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 O LIVER GOLD SMITH . M.B. 
 
HISTORY OF THE EARTH, 
 
 AND 
 
 ANIMATED NATURE. 
 
 BY OLIVER GOLDSMITH. 
 
 TO WHICH ARE ADDED, 
 
 THE LIFE OF THE AUTHOR, HIS DESERTED VILLAGE, 
 
 TRAVELLER, MISCELLANIES, S/-c. fyc. 
 
 Adieu, sweet lurd ! to each fine feeling true, 
 Tby virtues many, and thy foibles few j 
 Those form VI to charm e'en vicious minds and these 
 With harmless mirth the social soul to please. 
 Another's woe thy heart could always melt; 
 None gave more free for none more deeply felt. 
 Sweet bard, adieu ! thy own harmonious lays 
 
 Have sculptur'd out thy monument of praise > 
 Yes, these survive to time's remotest day ; 
 While drops the bust, and boastful tombs decay. 
 Reader, if number'd in the muse's train, 
 Go, tune the lyre, and imitate his strain : 
 But, if no poet thou, reverse the plan j 
 Depart in peace, and imitate the man. 
 
 IN ONE VOLUME. 
 
 EMBELLISHED WITH A SERIES OF BEAUTIFUL AND APPROPRIATE 
 
 DESIGNED AND EXECUTED BY THE FIRST ARTISTS. 
 
 NEW-YORK: 
 PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY THOMAS KINNERSLEY, 
 
 OPPOSITE THE MANHATTAN BANK, BROADWAY. 
 
 1825. 
 

 <tx*t~,i -ftfff 
 
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PREFACE. 
 
 JN ATURAL History, considered in its utmost extent, comprehends two objects. First, that 
 of discovering, ascertaining, and naming, all the various productions of Nature. Secondly, 
 that of describing the properties, manners, and relations, which they bear to us, and to each 
 other. The first, which is the most difficult part of this science, is systematical, dry, mechan- 
 ical and incomplete. The second is more amusing, exhibits new pictures to the imagination, 
 and improves our relish for existence, by widening the prospect of nature around us. 
 
 Both, however, are necessary to those who would understand this pleasing science in its 
 utmost extent. The first care of every inquirer, no doubt, should be, to see, to visit, and ex- 
 amine, every object, before he pretends to inspect its habitudes or its history. From seeing 
 and observing the thing itself, he is most naturally led to speculate upon its uses, its delights, 
 or its inconveniences. 
 
 Numberless obstructions, however, are found in this part of his pursuit, that frustrate his 
 diligence and retard his curiosity. The objects in nature are so many, and even those of 
 the same kind are exhibited in such a variety of forms, that the inquirer finds himself lost in 
 the exuberance before him, and, like a man who attempts to count the stars, unassisted by 
 art, his powers are all distracted in barren superfluity. 
 
 To remedy this embarrassment, artificial systems have been devised, which grouping into 
 masses those parts of nature more nearly resembling each other, refer the inquirer for the name 
 of the single object he desires to know, to some one of those general distributions, where it is 
 to be found by further examination. 
 
 If, for instance, a man should in his walks meet with an animal, the name, and consequently 
 the history, of which he desires to know, he is taught by systematic writers of natural history 
 to examine its most obvious qualities, whether a quadruped, a bird, a fish, or an insect. Hav- 
 ing determined it, for explanation sake, to be an insect, he examines whether it has wings; if 
 he finds it possessed of these, he is taught to examine whether it has two or four; if possessed 
 of four, he is taught to observe whether the two upper wings are of a shelly hardness, and 
 serve as cases to those under them; if he finds the wings composed in this manner, he is then 
 taught to pronounce that this insect is one of the beetle kind: of the beetle kind, there are 
 three different classes distinguished from each other by their feelers ; he examines the insect 
 before him, and finds that the feelers are clavated or knobbed at the ends ; of beetles, with 
 feelers thus formed, there are ten kinds ; and among those he is taught to look for the precise 
 name of that which is before him. If, for instance, the knob be divided at the ends, and the 
 
iv PREFACE 
 
 belly be streaked with white, it is no other than the Dor, or the May-bug; an animal, tht 
 noxious qualities of which give it a very distinguished rank in the history of the insect crea- 
 tion. In this manner a system of natural history may, in some measure, be compared to a 
 dictionary of words. Both are solely intended to explain the names of things; but wilh 
 this difference, that in the dictionary of words we are led from the name of the thing to 
 its definition ; whereas in the system of natural history, we are led from the definition to 
 find out the name. 
 
 Such are the efforts of writers, who have composed their works with great labour and in- 
 genuity, to direct the learner in his progress through nature, and to inform him of the name of 
 every animal, plant, or fossil substance, that he happens to meet with: but it would be only 
 deceiving the reader to conceal the truth, which is, that books alone can never teach him 
 this art in perfection ; and the solitary student can never succeed. Without a master, and a 
 previous knowledge of many of the objects of nature, his book will only serve to confound 
 and disgust him. Few of the individual plants or animals, that he may happen to meet with, 
 are in that precise state of health, or that exact period of vegetation, from whence their de- 
 scriptions were taken. Perhaps he meets the plant only with leaves, but the systematic wri- 
 ter has described it in flower. Perhaps he meets the bird before it has moulted its first feathers, 
 while the systematic description was made in its state of full perfection. He thus ranges 
 without an instructor, confused, and with sickening curiosity, from subject to subject, till at 
 last he gives up the pursuit, in the multiplicity of his disappointments. 
 
 Some practice, therefore, much instruction, and diligent reading, are requisite to make a 
 ready and expert naturalist, who shall be able, even by the help of a system, to find out the 
 name of every object he meets with. But when this tedious, though requisite, part of study 
 is attained, nothing but delight and variety attend the rest of his journey. Wherever he tra- 
 vels, like a man, in a country where he has many friends, he meets with nothing but ac- 
 quaintances and allurements in all the stages of his way. The mere uninformed spectator 
 passes on in gloomy solitude; but the naturalist, in every plant, in every insect, and every peb- 
 ble, finds something to entertain his curiosity, and excite his speculation. 
 
 From hence it appears, that a system may be considered as a dictionary in the study of 
 nature. The ancients, however, who have written most delightfully on this subject, seem en- 
 tirely to have rejected those humble and mechanical helps to science. They contented 
 themselves with seizing upon the great outlines of history, and passing over what was com- 
 mon, as not worth the detail ; they only dwelt upon what was new, great, and surprising, and 
 sometimes even warmed the imagination at the expense of truth. Such of the moderns as re- 
 vived this science in Europe, undertook the task more methodically, though not in a manner 
 so pleasing. Aldrovandus, Gesner, and Johnson, seemed desirous of uniting the entertaining 
 and rich descriptions of the ancients with the dry and systematic arrangement, of which they 
 were the first projectors. This attempt, however, was extremely imperfect, as the great variety 
 of nature was, as yet, but very inadequately known. Nevertheless, by attempting to carry on 
 both objects at once, first directing us to the name of the thing, and then giving the detail of 
 its history, they drew out their works into a tedious and unreasonable length; and thus mixing 
 incompatible aims, they have left their labours rather to be occasionally consulted, than read 
 with delight, by posterity 
 
PREFACE. v 
 
 The later moderns, with that good sense which they have carried into every other part of 
 science, have taken a different method in cultivating natural history. They have been con- 
 tent to give, not only the brevity, but also the dry and disgusting air of a dictionary, to their 
 systems. Ray, Klein, Brisson, and Linnaeus, have had only one aim, that of pointing out the 
 object in nature, of discovering its name, and where it was to be found in those authors that 
 treated of it in a more prolix and satisfactory manner. Thus natural history, at present, is 
 carried on in two distinct and separate channels ; the one serving to lead us to the thing, the 
 other conveying the history of the thing, as supposing it already known. 
 
 The following Natural History is written with only such an attention to system as serves to 
 remove the reader's embarrassments, and allure him to proceed. It can make no pretensions 
 in directing him to the name of every object he meets with ; that belongs to works of a dif- 
 ferent kind, and written with very different aims. It will fully answer my design, if the reader, 
 being already possessed of the name of any animal, shall find here a short, though satisfactory, 
 history of its habitudes, its subsistence, its manners, its friendships, and hostilities. My aim has 
 been to carry on just as much method as was sufficient to shorten my descriptions by general- 
 izing them, and never to follow order where the art of writing, which is but another name for 
 good sense, informed me that it would only contribute to the reader's embarrassment. 
 
 Still, however, the reader will perceive that I have formed a kind of system in the history of 
 every part of animated nature, directing myself by the great obvious distinctions that she her- 
 self seems to have made ; which, though too few to point exactly to the name, are yet sufficient 
 to illuminate the subject, and remove the reader's perplexity. Mr. Buffon, indeed, who has 
 brought greater talents to this part of learning than any other man, has almost entirely reject- 
 ed method in classing quadrupeds. This, with great deference to such a character, appears 
 to me running into the opposite extreme ; and, as some moderns have of late spent much time, 
 great pains, and some learning, all to very little purpose, in systematic arrangement, he seems 
 so much disgusted by their trifling, but ostentatious efforts, that he describes his animals, al- 
 most in the order they happen to come before him. This want of method seems to be a fault; 
 but he can lose little by a criticism which every dull man can make, or by an error in arrange- 
 ment, from which the dullest are most usually free. 
 
 In other respects, as far as this able philosopher has gone, I have taken him for my guide. 
 The warmth of hi i style, and the brilliancy of his imagination, are inimitable. Leaving him, 
 therefore, without a rival in these, and only availing myself of his information, I have been 
 content to describe things in my own way; and though many of the materials are taken from 
 him. yet I have added, retrenched, and altered, as 1 thought proper. It was my intention at 
 one time, whenever I differed from him, to have mentioned it at the bottom of the page ; but 
 this occurred so often, that I soon found it would look like envy, and might perhaps convict 
 me of those very errors which I was wanting to lay upon him. I have, therefore, as being eve- 
 ry way his debtor, concealed my dissent, where my opinion was different ; but wherever I bor- 
 row from him, I take care at the bottom of the page to express my obligations. But though my 
 obligations to this writer are many, they extend to but the smallest part of the work, as he has 
 hitherto completed only the history of quadrupeds. I was, therefore, left to my own reading 
 alone, to make out the history of birds, fishes, and insects, of which the arrangement was so diffi- 
 
 NO. l. B 
 
vi . PREFACE. 
 
 cult, and the necessary information so widely diffused, and so obscurely related when found, 
 that it proved by much the most laborious part of the undertaking. Thus having made use 
 of Mr. Burton's lights in the first part of the work, I may with some share of confidence re- 
 commend it to the public. But what shall I say to that part, where I have been entirely left 
 without his assistance ? As I would affect neither modesty nor confidence, it will be sufficient 
 to say, that rny reading upon this part of the subject has been very extensive ; and that I have 
 taxed my scanty circumstances in procuring books, which are on this subject, of all others, 
 the most expensive. In consequence of this industry, I here offer a work to the public, of a 
 kind which has never been attempted in ours, or any other modern language, that I know 
 of. The ancients, indeed, and Pliny in particular, have anticipated me in the present manner 
 of treating natural history. Like those historians who describe the events of a campaign, they 
 have not condescended to give the private particulars of every individual that formed the 
 army ; they were content with characterizing the generals, and describing their operations, 
 while they left it to meaner hands to carry the muster-roll. I have followed their manner, 
 rejecting' the numerous fables which they adopted, and adding the improvements of the 
 moderns, which are so numerous, that they actually make up the bulk of natural history. 
 
 The delight which I found in reading Pliny, first inspired me with the idea of a work of this 
 nature. Having a taste rather classical than scientific, and having but little employed myself 
 in turning over the dry labours of modern system-makers, my earliest intention was to trans- 
 late this agreeable writer, and by the help of a commentary to make my work as amusing as 
 I could. Let us dignify natural history never so much with the grave appellation of an useful 
 science, yet still we must confess, that it is the occupation of the idle and the speculative, more 
 than of the busy and the ambitious part of mankind. My intention, therefore, was to treat 
 what I then conceived to be an idle subject, in an idle manner ; and not to hedge round plain 
 and simple narratives with hard words, accumulated distinctions, ostentatious learning, and 
 disquisitions that produced no conviction. Upon the appearance, however, of Mr. Buffbn's 
 work, I dropped my former plan, and adopted the present, being convinced, by his manner, 
 that the best imitation of the ancients was to write from our own feelings, and to imitate nature. 
 
 It will be my chief pride, therefore, if this work may be found an innocent amusement for 
 those who have nothing else to employ them, or who require a relaxation from labour. Pro- 
 fessed naturalists will, no doubt, find it superficial; and yet I should hope that even these will 
 discover hints and remarks, gleaned from various reading, not wholly trite or elementary, 
 would wish for their approbation. But my chief ambition is to drag up the obscure and 
 gloomy learning of the cell to open inspection, to strip it from its garb of austerity, and to show 
 the beauties of that form, which only the industrious and the inquisitive have been hitherto 
 permitted to approach. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page. 
 
 Life of Goldsmith i xvi 
 
 GHAP. I. A Sketch of the Universe . 2 
 
 II. A short survey of the Globe, 
 
 from the light of Astro- 
 nomy, ami Geography . 3 
 
 III. A view of the surface of 
 
 the Earth 5 
 
 IV. A review of the different 
 
 Theories of the Earth . 7 
 
 V. Fossil-shells and other ex- 
 
 traneous Fossils ... 12 
 
 VI. The internal Structure of 
 
 the Earth 15 
 
 VII. Caves and Subterrane- 
 ous Passages that sink, 
 but not perpendicularly, 
 
 into the Earth .... 19 
 
 VIII. Mines, Damps, and Mi- 
 neral Vapours .... 22 
 
 IX. Volcanoes and Earth- 
 quakes 26 
 
 X. Earthquakes 30 
 
 XI. The appearance of Islands 
 
 and Tracts ; and of the 
 disappearing of others . 36 
 
 XII. Mountains 40 
 
 XIII. Water 48 
 
 XIV. The origin of Rivers . 57 
 
 XV. The Ocean in general ; 
 
 and of its Saltness . . 67 
 
 XVI. The Tides, Motion, and 
 Currents, of the Sea; 
 with their effects ... 73 
 
 XVII. The changes produced 
 
 by the Sea upon the Earth 79 
 
 XVIII. A summary account of 
 the mechanical proper- 
 ties of Air 87 
 
 XIX. An Essay towards a natural 
 history of the Air . , . 91 
 
 XX. Winds regular and irregu- 
 
 lar 99 
 
 XXI. Meteors, and such ap- 
 pearances as result from 
 a combination of the 
 Elements 107 
 
 XXII. The Conclusion ... 117 
 
 ANIMALS. 
 
 0HAP. XXIII. A comparison of Ani- 
 mals with the inferior 
 ranks of Creation . . . 119 
 
 XXIV. The generation of Ani- 
 mals 123 
 
 XXV. The Infancy of Man . 133 
 
 XXVI. Puberty 138 
 
 XXVII. The Age of Manhood 140 
 
 XXVIII. Sleep and Hunger . 153 
 
 XXIX. Seeing 159 
 
 XXX. Hearing 164 
 
 XXXI. Smelling, Peeling, and 
 Tasting 168 
 
 XXXII. Old Age and Death . 172 
 
 XXXIII. The Varieties in the 
 Human Race .... 177 
 
 XXXIV. Monsters . , . . 186 
 
 XXXV. Mummies, Wax- 
 works, &c 193 
 
 XXXVI. Animals 198 
 
 XXXVII. Quadrupeds in gene- 
 ral, compared to Man . 204 
 
 ANIMALS Of THE HORSE KIND. 
 
 CHAP. XXXVIII. The Horse . 814 
 
 CHAP. XXXIX. The Ass 
 
 XL. The Zebra , 
 
 Page. 
 . 223 
 . 227 
 
 RUMINATING ANIMALS. 
 
 CHAP. XLI. Introduction .... 231 
 
 XLJI. The Cow Kind . . . 233 
 
 The Buffalo 238 
 
 XLIII. Animals of the Sheep 
 
 and Goat Kind .... 240 
 
 The Sheep 241 
 
 The Goat and its ... 
 
 numerous Varieties . . 245 
 
 The Gazelles 250 
 
 XLIV. The Musk Animal . 255 
 XLV. Animals of the Deer 
 
 Kind 257 
 
 The Fallow-Deer ... 265 
 
 The Roe-buck 2G7 
 
 The Elk 269 
 
 The Rein-Deer .... 272 
 
 QUADRUPEDS OF THE HOG KIND. 
 
 CHAP. XLVI. Introduction ... 279 
 
 The Wild Boar .... ib. 
 
 The Hog 280 
 
 XLVII. The Peccary, or Taiacu 282 
 XLV1II. The Capibara, or Ca- 
 
 biai 284 
 
 XLIX. The Babyrouessa, or 
 
 Indian Hog 285 
 
 CARNIVOROUS ANIMALS. 
 
 CHAP. L. Animals of the Cat Kind . 288 
 
 The Lion 292 
 
 The Tiger 297 
 
 The Panther and the Leo- 
 pard 302 
 
 LI. Animals of the Dog Kind 307 
 
 The Wolf 317 
 
 The Fox 322 
 
 The Jackal 325 
 
 Thelsatis 326 
 
 The Hyaena 327 
 
 LII. Animals of the Weasel 
 
 Kind 328 
 
 The Ermine, or Stoat . . 330 
 
 The Ferret 332 
 
 The Pole-cat 333 
 
 The Martin 334 
 
 The Sable 336 
 
 The Ichneumon .... 337 
 
 The Stinkards 338 
 
 The Genet 340 
 
 The Civet ib. 
 
 The Glutton 342 
 
 ANIMALS OF THE HARE KIND. 
 
 Introduction 345 
 
 The Hare ib. 
 
 The Rabbit 349 
 
 The Squirrel 351 
 
 The Flying Squirrel . . . 3M 
 
 The Marmout 355 
 
 The Agouti 358 
 
 The Paca 359 
 
 The Guinea-pig .... 360 
 
 ASIMAL! OF THE RAT AND HEDGEHOG KINDS. 
 
 CHAP. LIII. The Rat Kind 
 The Great Rat 
 The Mouse 
 
 303 
 
 it. 
 
 365 
 
 CHAP. LIII. The Dormouse . $>6 
 
 The Musk-Rat .... 367 
 
 The C'ricetus 368 
 
 The Leming . . . . 369 
 
 The Mole ...... 370 
 
 L1V. The Hedgehog, or Prick- 
 ly Kind 373 
 
 The Tanrcc and Tendrac . 374 
 
 The Porcupine .... 375 
 
 LV. Quadrupeds covered with 
 scales or shells instead 
 
 of hair 377 
 
 The Pangolin 378 
 
 The Armadillo, or Tatou . 380 
 
 LV1. Animals of the Rat Kind 382 
 
 LVII. Amphibious Quadrupeds 386 
 
 The Otter ib. 
 
 The Beaver 389 
 
 The Seal 392 
 
 The Morse 395 
 
 The Manati 396 
 
 THE MONKEY KIND, THE ELEPHANT, RHINOCE- 
 ROS, &G. 
 
 CHAP. LVIII. Animals of the Monkey 
 
 Kind 398 
 
 The Ouran Outang ... 399 
 
 The Baboon 404 
 
 The Monkey 406 
 
 The Maki 4)2 
 
 The Oppossum and its Kinds 4 J 3 
 
 LIX. The Elephant .... 416 
 
 LX. The Rhinoceros ... 425 
 
 LXI. The Hippopotamus . . 427 
 
 LXII. The Camelopard ... 429 
 LXIII. The Camel and the 
 
 Dromedary 430 
 
 LXIV. The Lama .... 4:!3 
 
 LXV. The Nyl-ghau ... 435 
 
 LXVI. The Bear ..... 436 
 
 LXV1I. The Badger . . . . 438 
 
 LXVIII. The Tapir .... 439 
 
 LXIX. The Racoon .... ,'*: 
 
 LXX. The Coatimondi . . . 440 
 
 LXXI. The Ant-Bear ... 441 
 
 LXXII. The Sloth .... 442 
 
 LXXIII. The Jerboa . . 444 
 
 BIRDS. 
 
 OF BIRDS IN GENF.RAL. 
 
 CHAP. LXXIV. Introduction ... 448 
 LXXV. The generation, nest- 
 ling, and incubation of Birds 454 
 LXXVI. The division of Birds 459 
 LXX VII. The Ostrich . . . 4(i2 
 LXXVIII. The Emu ... 466 
 LXXIX. The Cassowary . , 4(57 
 LXXX. The Dodo 469 
 
 RAPACIOUS BIRDS. 
 
 CHAP. LXXXI. Rapacious Birds . . 471 
 
 LXXXn. Tiie Ea<rle, &c. . . 473 
 LXXXIII. The Condor of 
 
 America . . . 477 
 
 LXX XIV. The Vulture. &c. . 479 
 
 LXXXV. The Falcon Kind . 482 
 
 LXX XVI. The Butcher- Bird 486 
 LXXXVII. Rapacious Birds of 
 
 the Owl Kind 488 
 
 BIRDS OF THE POULTRY KIND. 
 
 CHAP. LXXXVIII. Birds of the Poul- 
 try Kind , 4fl^ 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page. ' 
 
 CHAP. LXXXIX. Tho Cock . . . 4U4 
 XC. The Peacock .... 497 
 XCI. The Turkey .... 499 
 XCII. The Pheasant .... 501 
 XC11I. The Pintada,or Gui- 
 nea Hen 503 
 
 XC1V. The Bustard .... 504 
 
 XCV. The Grous .... 505 
 
 XCVI. The Partridge . . . 507 
 
 XCVII. The Quail .... 509 
 
 BIRDS OF THE PIE KIND. 
 
 CHAP. XCVIJ1. Birds of the Pie Kind 511 
 XCIX. The Raven and the Crow 512 
 
 C. The Magpie 516 
 
 CI. The Woodpecker ... 519 
 
 CII. The Bird of Paradise . . 522 
 
 CHI. The Cuckoo .... 593 
 
 CIV. The Parrot 535 
 
 CV. The Pigeon 529 
 
 BIRDS OF THE SPARROW KIND. 
 
 CHAP. C VI. Birds of the Sparrow Kind 533 
 
 CVII. The Thrush, &c . . 539 
 
 CVIII. The Nightingale, &c. . 540 
 
 CIX. The Canary-Bird, &c. . 544 
 
 CX. The Swallow .... 546 
 
 CXI. The Humming-Bird . . 548 
 
 BIRDS OF THE CRANE KIND. 
 
 CHAP. CXII. Birds of the Crane Kind 
 
 in general 551 
 
 CXI11. The Crane .... 552 
 
 CXIV. The Stork .... 556 
 CXV. The Balearic and other 
 
 Foreign Cranes .... 557 
 
 CXVI. The Heron, &c. . . 559 
 
 CXVII. The Bittern . . . . 5ti2 
 
 CXVIII. The Spoonbill ... 563 
 
 CXIX. The Flamingo ... 564 
 CXX. The Avosetta and the 
 
 Corrira 567 
 
 CXXI. Small Birds of the 
 
 Crane Kind ...... 568 
 
 CXXII. The Water Hen and 
 
 the Coot '572 
 
 WATER-FOWL. 
 
 CHAP. CXXIII. Water-Fowl in ge- 
 nera! 574 
 
 CXXIV. The Pelican ... 576 
 
 CXX V. The Albatross ... 579 
 
 CXXVI. The Cormorant . . 580 
 
 CXXVII. The Gannet ... 582 
 CXXVIII. Smaller Gulls and . 
 
 Petrels 583 
 
 CXXIX. The Penguin Kind . 587 
 
 CXXX. The Auk, Puffin, &c. 589 
 CXXXI. Birds of the Goose 
 
 Kind 592 
 
 CXXX II. The Swan ... 593 
 
 CXXXI1I. The Goose, &c. . 596 
 
 CXXXIV. The Duck, &c. . . 597 
 
 CXXXV. The King-Fisher . 602 
 
 FISHKS IN GENERAL. 
 
 CHAP. CXXXVI. Introduction . . 605 
 CXXX VII. Cetaceous Fishes in 
 
 general 614 
 
 CXXXVIII. The Whale . . 616 
 
 Page. 
 
 CHAP. CXXXIX. The Nsrwhale . . 621 
 CXL. The Cachalot, &c. . . W3 
 CXLI. The Dolphin, the 
 Grampus, and the porpoise, 
 &c 624 
 
 CARTILAGINOUS FISHES. 
 
 CHAP. CXLII. Cartilaginous Fishes 
 
 in general 627 
 
 CXLI1I. Cartilaginous Fishes 
 
 of the Shark Kind ... 629 
 CXLIV. Cartilaginous Flat- 
 fish of the Ray Kind . . 632 
 CXLV. The Lamprey, &c . . 638 
 CXLVI. The Sturgeon, &c. . 640 
 CXLV1I. Anomalous Cartila- 
 ginous Fishes 642 
 
 SP1SOUS FISHES. 
 
 CHAP. CXLVIII. The Division of Spi- 
 
 nous Fishes 646 
 
 SECT. I. Prickly-finned Fishes . . 647 
 
 SKCT. II. Soft-finned Fishes ... 649 
 
 CXL1X. Spinous Fishes . . 651 
 
 CRUSTACEOUS AND TESTACEOUS FISHES. 
 
 CHAP. CL. TheDivisionof Shell-Fish 662 
 CLI. Crustaceous Animals of 
 
 the Lobster Kind ... 663 
 CLII. The Tortoise and its Kinds Go'9 
 CLIII. The Shell of Testace- 
 ous Fishes 676 
 
 CLIV. Turbinated Shell-fish 
 
 of the Snail Kind ... 681 
 CLV. Bivalved Shell-fish, or 
 
 Shells of the Oyster Kind 687 
 CLVI. Multivalve Shell-fish 693 
 
 FROGS, LIZARDS, AND SERPENTS. 
 
 FROGS AND TOADS. 
 
 CHAP. CLVII. Frogs and Toads in 
 
 general 697 
 
 CLVIII. The Frog and its Va- 
 rieties ti. 
 
 CLIX. The Toad and its Varieties 702 
 
 THE LIZARD KIND. 
 
 CHAP. CLX. Lizards in general . . 709 
 CLXI. The Crocodile, and its 
 
 Affinities 711 
 
 CLXII. The Salamander . . 717 
 CLXIII. The Chamelion, the 
 Iguana, and Lizards of 
 different Kinds ... 719 
 
 SERPENTS, &C. 
 
 CLXIV. Serpents in general ... 723 
 CLXV. Venomous Serpents in 
 
 genera] 732 
 
 CLXV1. Serpents withont venom 739 
 
 INSECTS. 
 
 INSECTS OF THE FIRST ORDER. 
 
 CHAP. CLXVII. Insects in general 743 
 CLXVIII. Insects without wings 746 
 CLXIX. The Spider and its 
 
 Varieties 747 
 
 CHAP. CLXX. The Flea . . . "f& 
 CLXXI. The Louse and its 
 
 Varieties 753 
 
 CLXXII. The Bug and its 
 
 Varieties 756 
 
 CLXX11I. The Woodlouse and 
 
 its Varieties .... 758 
 CLXXIV. The Moncculus, or 
 
 Arborescent Water-flea . ti. 
 CLXXV. The Scorpion and 
 
 its Varieties .... 759 
 CLXXV1. The Scolopendra 
 
 and Gally-worm . . . 7G2 
 CLXXVII. The Leech . . 76;i 
 
 INSECTS OF THE SECOND ORDER. 
 
 CHAP. CLXXVIII. The Second Or- 
 der of Insects in general 76t> 
 CLXXIX. The Libella.or Dra- 
 
 f on-fly il>. 
 X. The Formica Leo, 
 or Lion-Ant .... 768 
 
 CLXXXI. The Grasshopper, 
 the Locust, the Cicada, 
 the Cricket, and the Mole- 
 Cricket 771 
 
 CLXXXII. The Earwig, the 
 Froth Insect, and some 
 others belonging to the 
 Second Order of Insects 778 
 
 CLXXX1II. The Ephemera 780 
 
 INSECTS OF THE THIRD ORDER. 
 
 CHAP. CLXXXIV. Caterpillars in 
 
 general 783 
 
 CLXXXV. The Transforma- 
 tion of the Caterpillar in- 
 to its corresponding But- 
 terfly or Moth .... 784 
 
 CLXXXVI. Butterflies and 
 
 Moths 791 
 
 CLXXXVII. The Enemies of 
 
 the Caterpillar ... 794 
 
 CLXXXVIII. The Silkworm 796 
 
 INSECTS OF THE FOURTH ORDER. 
 
 CHAP. CLXXXIX. The Fourth Or- 
 der of Insects in general 800 
 CLXL. The Bee . . . . il>. 
 CLXLI. The Wasp .... 809 
 CLXLU. The Ichneumon Fly 813 
 CLXLIII. The Ant ... 814 
 CLXLIV. The Beetle and its 
 
 Varieties 818 
 
 CLXLV. The Gnat and Tipula 825 
 
 THE ZOOPHYTES. 
 
 CHAP. CLXLVI. Zoophytes in ge- 
 neral 828 
 
 CLXLVII. Worms .... 829 
 CLXLVIII. The Star-fish . 832 
 CLXLIX The Polypus . . 833 
 CC. Lythophytes and Sponges 837 
 
 POETRY. 
 
 Traveller 843 
 
 Deserted Village 850 
 
 Hermit 858 
 
 Logicians Refuted . . . 858 
 Essavs 859 # 
 
THE LIFE 
 
 r f* 
 L HE life of a Scholar," Dr. Goldsmith has remarked, "seldom abounds with adventure: 
 
 " his fame is acquired in solitude ; and the historian, who only views him at a distance, must 
 " be content with a dry detail of actions by which he is scarce distinguished from the rest of 
 " mankind : but we are fond of talking of those who have given us pleasure ; not that we have 
 * any thing important to say, but because the subject is pleasing." 
 
 Oliver Goldsmith, son of the Reverend Charles Goldsmith, was born at Elphin, in the coun- 
 ty of Roscommon, in Ireland, in the year 1729. His father had four sons, of whom Oliver 
 was the third. After being well instructed in the classics, at the school of Mr. Hughes, he 
 was admitted a sizer in Trinity College, Dublin, on the llth of June, 1744. While he re- 
 sided there, he exhibited no specimens of that genius, which, in maturer years, raised his 
 character so high. On the 27th of February, 1749, O. S. (two years after the regular time,) 
 he obtained the degree of Bachelor of Arts. Soon after he turned his thoughts to the pro- 
 fession of physic ; and, after attending some courses of anatomy in Dublin, proceeded to 
 Edinburgh, in the year 1751, where he studied the several branches of medicine under the 
 different professors in that university. His beneficent disposition soon involved him in unex- 
 pected difficulties ; and he was obliged precipitately to leave Scotland, in consequence of 
 having engaged himself to pay a considerable sum of money for a fellow student. 
 
 The beginning of the year 1754, he arrived at Sunderlaud, near Newcastle, where he was 
 arrested at the suit of one Barclay, a taylor in Edinburgh, to whom he had given security for 
 his friend. By the good offices of Laughlin Maclane, Esq. and Dr. Sleigh, who were then in 
 
ii LIFE OF GOLDSMITH. 
 
 the college, he was soon delivered out of the hands of the bailiff, and took his passage on board 
 a Dutch ship to Rotterdam, where, after a short stay, he proceeded to Brussels. He then 
 visited great part of Flanders ; and, after passing some time at Strasbourg and Louvain, where 
 he obtained a degree of Bachelor in Physic, he accompanied an English gentleman to Geneva. 
 
 It is undoubtedly a fact, that this ingenious unfortunate man made most part of his tour on 
 foot. He had left England with very little money; and being of a philosophic turn, and at 
 that time possessing a body capable ol sustaining every fatigue, and a heart not easily terrifi- 
 ed by danger, he became an enthusiast to the design he had formed of seeing the manners of 
 different-countries. He had some knowledge of the French language, and of music: heplav- 
 ed tolerably well on the German flute ; which, from amusement, became, at some times, the 
 means of subsistence. His learning produced him an hospitable reception at most of the re- 
 ligious houses he visited ; and his music made him welcome to the peasants of Flanders and 
 Germany. " Whenever I approached a peasant's house towards night-fall," he used to say, 
 "I played one of my most merry tune?, and that generally procured me not only a lodging 
 but subsistence for the next day: but, in truth" (his constant expression,) "I must own, when- 
 ever I attempted to entertain persons of a higher rank, they always thought my perfor- 
 mance odious, and never made me any return for my endeavours to please them." 
 
 On his arrival at Geneva, he was recommended as a proper person for a travelling tutor to 
 a young man, who had been unexpectedly left a considerable sum of money by his uncle 
 Mr. S. ******. This youth, who was articled to an attorney, on the receipt of his fortune de- 
 termined to see the world. 
 
 During Goldsmith's continuance in Switzerland, he assiduously cultivated his poetical talent, 
 of which he had given some striking proofs at the college of Edinburgh. It was from hence 
 he sent the first sketch of his delightful epistle, called the Traveller, to his brother Henry, a 
 clergyman in Ireland, who, giving up fame and fortune, had retired with an amiable wife to 
 happiness and obscurity, on an income of only forty pounds a year. The great affection 
 Goldsmith bore for this brother, is expressed in the poem before mentioned, and gives a 
 striking picture of his situation. 
 
 From Geneva Mr. Goldsmith and his pupil proceeded to the south of France, where the 
 young man, upon some disagreement with his preceptor, paid him the small part of his salary 
 which was due, and embarked at Marseilles for England. Our wanderer was left once more 
 upon the world at large, and passed through a number of difficulties in traversing the greatest 
 part of France. At length his curiosity being gratified, he bent his course towards England, 
 and arrived at Dover, the beginning of the winter, in the year 1758. 
 
 His finances were so low on his return to England, that he with difficulty got to the metro- 
 polis, his whole stock of cash amounting to no more than a few half-pence. An entire stranger 
 'n London, his mind was filled with the most gloomy reflections in consequence of his embar- 
 
LIFE OF GOLDSMITH. iiv 
 
 rassed situation. He applied to several apothecaries, in hopes of being received in the capa- 
 city of a journeyman ; but his broad Irish accent, and the uncouthness of his appearance, 
 occasioned him to meet with insult from most of the medical tribe. The next day, however, 
 a chymist, near Fish-street, struck with his forlorn condition, arid the simplicity of his manner, 
 took him into his laboratory, where he continued till he discovered that his old friend Dr. 
 Sleigh was in London. " It was Sunday," said Goldsmith, " when I paid him a visit ; and it is 
 to be supposed, in my best clothes. Sleigh scarcely knew me: such is the tax the unfortu- 
 nate pay to p >veity. However, when he did recollect me, I found his heart as warm as ever; 
 and he shared his purse and his friendship with me during his continuance in London." Gold- 
 smith, unwilling to be a burden to his friend, a short time after, eagerly embraced an offer 
 which was made him to assist the late Rev. Dr. Milner, in instructing the young gentlemen 
 at the Academy at Peckham ; and acquitted himself greatly to the Doctor's satisfaction for a 
 short time; but, having obtained some reputation by the criticisms he had written in the 
 Monthly Review, Mr. Griffith, the principal proprietor, engaged him in the compilation of it; 
 and resolving to pursue the profession of writing, he returned to London, as the mart where 
 abilities of every kind were sure of meeting distinction and reward. Here he determined to 
 adopt a plan of the strictest economy, and, at the close of the year 1759, took lodgings in 
 Green-Arbour-Court, in the Okl Baily, where he wrote several ingenious pieces. His first 
 works were The Bee, a weekly pamphlet; and Jin Inquiry into the present State of Polite Learning 
 in Europe. The late Mr. Newberry, who, at that time, gave great encouragement to men of 
 literary abilities, became a kind of patron to Goldsmith, and introduced him as one of the 
 writers in the Public Ledger," in which his Citizen of the World originally appeared, under 
 title of "Chinese Letters." 
 
 Through the generosi y of Mr. Newberry, for whom he had written and compiled a variety 
 of pieces, or, in other terms, had held the "pen of a ready writer," our Author was enabled 
 to shift his quarters from Green-Arbour-Court to Wine-Olfice-Court, in Fleet-street, where 
 he put the finishing stroke to his Vicar of Wakficll. Having conciliated the esteem of Dr. 
 Johnson by that passport to the human heart, flattery, the Colossus of Literature gave so strong 
 a recommendation of Goldsmith's Novel, that the Author obtained sixty pounds for the copy; 
 a sum far beyond his expectation, as he candidly acknowledged to a literary friend. It was, 
 however, a very seasonable relief, as it extricated our Author from many embarrassments un- 
 
 (a) During this time (according to another account) he wrote for the British Magazine, of which Dr. Smollett was then 
 editor, most of those Essays and Tales, which he afterwards collected and published in a separate volume- He also 
 wrote occasionally for the Critical Review; and it was the merit which he discovered in criticising a despicable transla- 
 tion of Ovid's Fasti, by a pedantic schoolmaster, and his Inquiry into the pmtent State of Learning in Europe, \vhicli 
 first introduced him to the acquaintance of Dr. Smollett, who recommended him to several literati, and to most of the 
 
 booksellers by whom he was afterwards patronized. 
 
 a* 
 
iv LIFE OF GOLDSMITH. 
 
 der which he then laboured. But as Goldsmith's reputation as a writer was not yet establish- 
 ed, the bookseller was doubtful of the success of the Novel, and he kept the manuscript by 
 him till the Traveller appeared, when he published it with great advantage. 
 
 Among many other persons of distinction who were desirous to know him, was the Duke of 
 Northumberland, and the circumstance that attended his introduction to that nobleman, is 
 worthy of being related, in order to show a striking trait of his character. " I was invited," 
 said the Doctor, " by my friend Percy, to wait upon the Duke, in consequence of the satisfac- 
 tion he had received from the perusal of one of my productions. I dressed myself in the best 
 manner I could, and, after studying some compliments I thought necessary on such an occa- 
 sion, proceeded to Northumberland house, and acquainted the servants that I had particular 
 business with his Grace. They showed me into an anti-chamber, where, after waiting some 
 time, a gentleman, very elegantly dressed, made his appearance. Taking him for the Duke, 
 I delivered all the fine things I had composed, in order to compliment him on the honour he 
 had done me; when, to my great astonishment, he told me I had mistaken him for his master, 
 *ho would see me immediately. At that instant the Duke came into the apartment; and I 
 vas so confounded on the occasion, that I wanted words barely sufficient to express the sense 
 f, entertained of the Duke's politeness, and went away exceedingly chagrined at the blunder 
 I had committed." 
 
 The Doctor, at the time of this visit, was much embarrassed in his circumstances ; but, 
 vain of the honour done him, was continually mentioning it. One of those ingenious executors 
 of the law, a bailiff, who had a writ against him, determined to turn this circumstance to hi? 
 own advantage. He wrote him a letter, that he was steward to a nobleman who was charm- 
 ed with reading his last production, and had ordered him to desire the Doctor to appoint a 
 place where he might have the honour of meeting him, to conduct him to his Lordship. The 
 vanity of poor Goldsmith immediately swallowed the bait: he appointed the British Coffee- 
 house, to which he was accompanied by his friend Mr. Hamilton, the printer of the Critical 
 [le'view, who in vain remonstrated on the singularity of the application. On entering the 
 coffee-room, the bailiff paid his respects to the Doctor, and desired that he might have the 
 honour of immediately attending him. They had scarce entered Pall-Mall, in their way to 
 kis Lordship, when the bailiff produced his writ. Mr. Hamilton generously paid the money, 
 and redeemed the Doctor from captivity. 
 
 Dr. Goldsmith, in 1765, produced his poem of the Traveller, which obtained the commenda- 
 lion of Dr. Johnson, who candidly acknowledged, "that there had not been so fine a Poem 
 since the time of Pope." But such was his diffidence, that he kept the manuscript by him 
 pome years; nor could he be prevailed on to publish it, till persuaded by Dr. Johnson, who 
 furnished him with some ideas for its enlargement. 
 
 This Poem, in consequence of the reception it met with from the public, enhanced his 
 
LIFE OF GOLDSMITH. v 
 
 literary character with the booksellers, and introduced him to the notice of several persons 
 eminent for their rank and superior talents, as Lord Nugent, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Dr. Nugent, 
 Beauclerc, Mr. Dyer, &c. These distinguished characters were entertained with his conver- 
 sation, and highly pleased with his blunders : at the same time they admired the elegance of 
 his poems and simplicity of the man. He published, the same year, a Collection of Essays, 
 which had previously appeared in the newspapers, magazines, and other periodical publica- 
 tions. But The Vicar of Wakefield, published in 1766, established his reputation as a Novelist. 
 
 Goldsmith's finances augmented with his fame, and enabled him to live in a superior style; 
 for, soon after the publication of his Traveller, he changed his lodgings in Wine-Office-Court 
 for a set of chambers in the Inner Temple ; and at the same time, in conjunction with Mr. 
 Bolt, a literary friend, took a country house on the Edgware Road, for the benefit of the air, 
 and the convenience of retirement. He gave this little mansion the jocular appellation of the 
 Shoemaker's Paradise, being built in a fantastic style by its original possessor, who was one of 
 the craft. 
 
 In this rural retirement he wrote his History of England, in a Series of Letters from a Noble* 
 man to his Son ; and, as an incontestible proof of the merit of this production, it was generally 
 supposed to have come from the pen of Lord Lyttleton, one of the most elegant writers of his 
 time: and it may be further observed, to enhance the reputation of the work, that it was never 
 disavowed by that Noble Lord to any of his most intimate friends. It had a very extensive 
 sale, and was introduced into many seminaries of learning as a most useful guide to the study 
 of English history. 
 
 It was a true observation with the Doctor, that "of all his compilations, his Selection of . 
 ll'igliiih Poetry showed most the heart of the profession." To furnish copy for this work, it re- 
 quired no invention, and but little thought: he had only to mark with a pencil the particular 
 passages for the printer, so that he easily acquired two hundred pounds ; but then he observ- 
 ed, lest the premium should be deemed more than a compensation for the labour, "that a man 
 shows his judgment in these selections; and he may be often twenty years of his life in cul 
 tivating that judgment." 
 
 His Comedy of the Good-natured Man was produced at Covent-Garden Theatre in 1768, 
 which, though it exhibited strong marks of genius, and keen observations on men and manner?, 
 did not at first meet with that applause which was due to its merit. The baiiiff scene was 
 generally reprobated, though the characters were well drawn ; but, to comply, however, with 
 the taste of the town, the scene was afterwards greatly abridged. Many parts were highly 
 applauded, as possessing great comic genius, and particularly that of Croaker, a character 
 truly original, excellently conceived by the Author, and highly supported by Shuter, the most 
 popular comedian of his day. The manner of his reading the incendiary letter in the fourth 
 pet, and the expression of the different passions by which he was agitated, produced shouts 
 
vd LIFE OF GOLDSMITH. 
 
 of applause. Goldsmith himself was so transported with the acting of Shuter, that he ex- 
 pressed his gratitude to him before the whole company, assuring him, " he had exceeded his 
 own idea of the character, and that the fine comic richness of his colouring made it almost 
 appear as new to him as to any other person in the house." Dr. Johnson, as a token of his 
 friendship for the Author, wrote the prologue. 
 
 The production of this comedy added considerably to his purse, as, from the profits of his 
 three nights, and the sale of the copy, lie acquired the sum of five hundred pounds, which, 
 with an additional sum he had reserved out of the product of a Roman History, in 2 vols. 8vo. 
 and an History of England, 4 vols. 8vo. he was enabled to descend fromtheattic story.heoccu- 
 pied in the Inner Temple, and take possession of a spacious suit of chambers in Brook-Court, 
 Middle Temple, which he purchased at no less a sum than four hundred pounds. He was at 
 the further charge of furnishing his chambers in an elegant manner, fitting up a handsome 
 library, and procuring every article, convenient and ornamental, that was proper for the ac- 
 commodation of a man who stood high in the republic of letters, and whose talents were re- 
 warded in a degree proportionate to their merit. 
 
 But this improvement in his circumstances, and manner of living, by no means compensated for 
 the mortification he underwent from the very-severe strictures of some rigid critics on his comedy. 
 Sentimental writing was the prevailing taste of the town, with which a comedy, called False 
 Delicacy, written by Kelly, abounded ; arid being got up at the Theatre in Drury Lane, under 
 the superintendance of Mr. Garrick, it met with such general approbation, that it was per- 
 formed for several successive nights with unbounded applause, and bore away the palm from 
 "Goldsmith's comedy, which came out much at the same time at the other theatre. False 
 Delicacy became so popular a piece, that ten thousand copies were sold in the course of only 
 one season; and the booksellers concerned in the property, as a token of their acknowledg- 
 ment of the merit of the comedy, apparent from its extraordinary sale, presented Kelly with 
 a piece of plate of considerable value, and gave an elegant entertainment to him and his 
 friends. These circumstances irritated the feelings of Goldsmith to so violent a degree, as to 
 dissolve the bands of friendship between Kelly and him; for though, in every other instance, 
 he bore a near resemblance to his own character of the Good Natured Man, yet, in literary 
 fame, he " could bear no rival near his throne." Had not his countryman and lellow bard aspired 
 at rivalship, had he been modestly content to move in an humbler sphere, he might not only 
 have retained his friendship, but commanded his purse; but, as emphatically expressed by 
 the same author from .whom we cited the last quotation; "To contend for the bow of Ulysses; 
 this was a fault ; that way envy lay." 
 
 There is a humorous anecdote related of Goldsmith concerning a periodical publication in 
 which he was jointly concerned with Dr. Kenrick, BickorstafK and others. The publication 
 dropped; upon which a friend remarked that it was a very short-lived production, and 
 
LIFE OF GOLDSMITH. v& 
 
 had died a very extraordinary sudden death. "Not at all, Sir," said Goldsmith; "a very 
 common case; it died of too many Doctors." 
 
 But Goldsmith, soon disgusted with such trivial pursuits, applied himself to nobler subjects, 
 and produced a highly finished Poem, called The Deserted Village. The bookseller gave 
 him a note of a hundred guineas for the copy, which Goldsmith returned, saying to a friend, 
 " It is too much ; it is more than the honest bookseller can afford, or the piece is worth." 
 He estimated the value according to the following computation; " That it was near five shil- 
 lings a couplet, which was more than any bookseller could afford, or, indeed, anv modern poe- 
 try was worth :" but the sale was so rapid, that the bookseller, with the greatest pleasure, soon 
 paid him the hundred guineas, with acknowledgment for the generosity he had evinced upon 
 the occasion. . 
 
 The author addresses this Poem to his friend Sir Joshua Reynolds. He writes in the cha- 
 racter of a native of a country village, to which he gives the name of Auburn, and which he 
 pathetically addresses. He then proceeds to contrast the innocence and happiness of a sim- 
 ple and a natural state with the miseries and vices that have been introduced by polished life, 
 and gives the following beautiful apostrophe to retirement: 
 
 O blest retirement ! friend to life's decline, 
 Retreats from care, that never must be mine ; 
 How blest is he who crowns, in shades like these, 
 A youth of labour with an age of ease ; 
 Who quits a world where strong temptations try, 
 And, since 'tis hard to combat, learns to fly ! 
 For him no wretches, born to work and weep, 
 Explore the mine, or tempt the dangerous deep ; 
 
 No surly porter stands in guilty state, 
 To spurn imploring famine from the gaie ; 
 But on he moves to meet his latter end, 
 Angels around befriending virtue's friend ; 
 Sinks to the grave with unperceiv'd decay, 
 While resignation gently slopes the way ; 
 And all his prospects brightening to the last, 
 His heaven commences ere the world be past !' 
 
 The description of the parish priest (probably intended for a character of his brother 
 Henry) would have done honour to any poet of any age. In this description the simile of the 
 bird teaching her young to fly, and of the mountain that rises above the storm, are not easily 
 to be paralleled. The rest of the poem consists of the character of the village school-master, 
 and a description of the village ale-house; both drawn with admirable propriety and force; 
 a descant on the mischiefs of luxury and wealth; the variety of artificial pleasures; the mise- 
 ries of those who, for want of employment at home, are driven to settle new colonies abroad ; 
 and concludes with the following beautiful apostrophe to poetry: 
 
 '.nd thou, sweet poetry ! thou loveliest maid, 
 (till first to fly where sensual jnys invade ; 
 Jnfit, in these degenerate times of shame, 
 To catch the heart, or strike for honest fame ; 
 Dear charming nymph ! neglected and decried, 
 
 My shame in crowds, my solitary pride ; 
 Thou source of all my bliss, and all my woe, 
 That found'st me poor at first, and keep'st me so; 
 Thou guide, by which the nobler arts excel, 
 Thou nurse of every virtue, fare thee well, 
 
 The Doctor did not reap a profit from his poetical labours equal to those of his prose. The 
 
viii LIFE OF GOLDSMfTH. 
 
 Earl of Lisburne, whose classical taste is well known, one day at a dinner of the Royal Acade- 
 micians, lamented to the Doctor his neglecting the muses, and inquired of him why he forsook 
 poetry, in which he was sure of charming his readers, to compile histories and write novels? 
 The Doctor replied, 'My Lord, by courting the muses I shall starve; but by my other labours, 
 I eat, drink, have good clothes, and enjoy the luxuries of life.' 
 
 This finished Poem was by no means a hasty production ; it occupied two years in com- 
 posing; and was the effect of the most minute observation, during an excursion of between 
 four and five years. Soon after the appearance of this work, he paid a tribute to the merit 
 of Dr. Parnell, in a Life prefixed to a new Edition of that elegant writer's " Poems on several 
 occasions ;" a work that does honour to the head and heart of the author. 
 
 The next Comedy the Doctor produced was in the year 1772: it was called, She Stoops to 
 Conquer, and proved more successful than the Good-natured Man. Colman, who was then 
 manager of Covent-Garden Theatre, and had given incontestible proofs of dramatic genius in 
 the production of various excellent pieces, was greatly mistaken in his judgment of this comedy, 
 which he thought too farcical, and had consigned to condemnation at the time of its last re- 
 hearsal. Indeed, the performers, in general, coincided with the manager in opinion. The 
 piece, however, notwithstanding the sentence pronounced by that acknowledged critic, was 
 received with great applause, to his mortification, and the exultation of the author, who was 
 not a little piqued at the critic from the following circumstance. 
 
 The first night of the performance of his comedy, Goldsmith did not come to the house till 
 it approached the close, having been ruminating in St. James's Park on the very important 
 decision of the fate of his piece then pending; and such were his anxiety, and apprehension 
 of its failure, that he was with great difficulty prevailed on to repair to the theatre, on the sugges- 
 tion of a friend, who pointed out the necessity of his presence, in order to take cognizance of 
 any passages that might appear objectionable, for the purpose of omission, or alteration in the 
 repetition of the performance. Our Author, with an expectation suspended between hope 
 and fear, had scarcely entered the passage that leads to the stage, than his ears were shock 
 ed at a hiss, which proceeded from the audience, as a token of their disapprobation of the 
 farcical supposition of Mrs. Hardcastle's being so palpably deluded, as to conceive herself at 
 the distance of fifty miles from her house, when she was not at the distance of fifty yards. 
 Such was the tremor and agitation of the Doctor on this unwelcome salute, that, running up 
 to the manager, he exclaimed, "What's that?" Pshaw! Doctor,'' replied Colman, in a sar- 
 castic tone, " don't be terrified at squibs, when we have been sitting these two hours upon a 
 barrel of gunpowder." 1 Goldsmith's pride was so hurt by the poignancy of this remark, that the 
 friendship which had before subsisted between the Manager and the Author was dissolved 
 for life. 
 
 The success of the comedy of She Stoops to Conquer produced a most illiberal personal at- 
 
LIFE OF GOLDSMITH. ix 
 
 tack on the author in one of the public prints. Enraged at this abusive publication, Dr. Gold- 
 smith repaired to the house of the publisher, and, after remonstrating on the malignity of this 
 attack on his character, began to apply his cane to the shoulders of the publisher, who, 
 making a powerful resistance, from being the defensive soon became the offensive combatant. 
 Dr. Kenrick, who was sitting in a private room of the publisher's, hearing a noise in the shop, 
 came in, put an end to the fight, and conveyed the Doctor to a coach. The papers instantly 
 teemed with fresh abuse on the impropriety of the Doctor's attempting to beat a person in 
 his own house, on which, in the Daily Advertiser of Wednesday, March 31, 1773, he inserted 
 the following address. 
 
 ' TO THE PUBLIC. 
 
 ' Lest it may be supposed that I have been willing to correct in others an abuse of which I 
 have been guilty myself, I beg leave to declare, that, in all my life, I never wrote, or dictated, 
 a single paragraph, letter, or essay, in a newspaper, except a few moral essays, under the 
 character of a Chinese, about ten years ago, in the Ledger; and a letter, to which I signed 
 my name, in the St. James's Chronicle. If the liberty of the press therefore has been abused, 
 I have had no hand in it. 
 
 ' I have always considered the press as the protector of our freedom, as a watchful guar- 
 dian, capable of uniting the weak against the encroachments of power. What concerns the 
 public, most properly admits of a public discussion. But of late, the press has turned from 
 defending public interest, to making inroads upon private life; from combating the strong, to 
 overwhelming the feeble. No condition is now too obscure for its abuse, and the protector is 
 become the tyrant of the people. In this manner the freedom of the press is beginning to sow 
 the seeds of its own dissolution; the great must oppose it from principle, and the weak from 
 fear; till, at last, every rank of mankind shall be found to give up its benefits, content with se- 
 curity from its insults. 
 
 ' How to put a stop to this licentiousness, by which all are indiscriminately abused, and by 
 which vice consequently escapes in the general censure, I am unable to tell ; all I could wish 
 is, that, as the law gives us no protection against the injury, so it should give calumniators no 
 shelter after having provoked correction. The insults which we receive before the public. 
 by being more open, are the more distressing; by treating them with silent contempt, we do 
 not pay a sufficient deference to the opinion of the world. By recurring to leg:il redress, we 
 too often expose the weakness of the law, which only serves to increase our mortification by 
 failing to relieve us. In short, every man should singly consider himself as a guardian of the 
 liberty of the press, and, as far as his influence can extend, should endeavour to prevent its 
 licentiousness becoming at last the grave of its freedom. 
 
 6 'OLIVER GOLDSMITH.' 
 
x LIFE OF GOLDSMITH. 
 
 The profits arising from his two comedies were estimated at 1300, rating the Good-natured 
 Man at 500, and She Stoops to Conquer at 800, which, with the product of other works, 
 amounted, as is asserted upon a good authority, to 1800; but, through a profuse liberality to 
 indigent authors, and particularly those of his own country, who played on his credulity, to- 
 gether with the effects of a habit he had contracted for gaming, he found himself, at the close 
 of that very year, not in a state of enjoyment of a pleasing prospect before him, but enveloped 
 in the gloom of despondency, and all the perplexities of deht, accumulated by his own 
 indiscretion. 
 
 It is remarkable, that, about this time, our Author altered his mode of address; he rejected 
 the title of Doctor, and assumed that of plain Mr. Goldsmith. This innovation has been at- 
 tributed to various causes. Some supposed he then formed a resolution never to engage as 
 a practical professor in the healing art; others imagined that he conceived the important ap- 
 pellation of Doctor, and the grave deportment attached to the character, incompatible with 
 the man of fashion, to which he had the vanity to aspire ; but, whatever might be his motive, 
 he could not throw off the title, which the world imposed on him to the day of his death, and 
 which is annexed to his memory at the present day; though he never obtained a degree su- 
 perior to that of Bachelor of Physic. 
 
 Though Goldsmith was indiscreet, he was, at the same time, industrious ; and, though his 
 genius was lively and fertile, he frequently submitted to the dull task of compilation. He had 
 previously written Histories of England, Greece, and Rome; and afterwards undertook, and 
 finished, a work, entitled, An History of the Earth and Animated Nature, 
 
 His last production, Retaliation, though not intended for public view, but merely his own 
 private amusement, and that of a few particular friends, exhibits strong marks of 
 genuine humour. It originated from some jokes of festive merriment on the Author's 
 person and dialect, in a club of literary friends, where good nature was sometimes sacrificed 
 at the shrine of wit and sarcasm; and as Goldsmith could not disguise h^s feelings upon 
 the occasion he, was called upon for retaliation, which he produced the very next club 
 meeting. 
 
 It may not be so accurate as his other poetical productions, as he did not revise it, or live 
 to finish it in the manner he intended; yet high eulogiums have been passed on it by some of 
 the first characters in the learned world, and it has obtained a place in most o.f the editions 
 of the English Poets. 
 
 Our Author no\v approached the period of his dissolution. He had been frequently attack- 
 ed for some years with a strangury, and the embarrassed state of his affairs aggravated the 
 violence of the disorder, which, with the agitation of his mind, brought on a nervous fever, 
 
LIFE OF GOLDSMITH. xi 
 
 that operated in so great a degree, that he exhibited signs of despair, and even a disgust 
 with life itself. 
 
 Finding his disorder rapidly increase, he sent for Mr. Halves, his apothecary, as well as in- 
 timate friend, to whom he related the symptoms of his malady. He told him he had taken 
 two ounces of ipecacuanha wine as an emetic; and expressed a great desire of making trial 
 of Dr. James's fever powders, which lie desired him to send him. The apothecary represent- 
 ed to his patient the impropriety of taking this medicine at that time ; but no argument could 
 prevail with him to relinquish his intention; so that Mr. Hawes, apprehensive of the fatal 
 consequences of his putting this rash resolve into execution, in order to divert him from it, 
 requested permission to send for Doctor Fordyce, who attended immediately, on receiving 
 the message. 
 
 Doctor Fordyce, of whose medical abilities Goldsmith always expressed the highest sense, 
 corroborated the opinion of the apothecary, and used every argument to dissuade 
 him from taking the powders ; but, deaf to all the remonstrances of his physician and 
 friend, he fatally persisted in his resolution; and when the apothecary visited him the follow- 
 ing day, and inquired of him how he did, he fetched a deep sigh, and said, in a dejected tone, 
 " He wished he had taken his friendly advice last night." Doctor Fordyce, alarmed at the 
 dangerous symptoms which the disorder indicated, thought it necessary to call in the advice 
 of another physician ; and accordingly proposed sending for Doctor Turton, of whom he knew 
 Goldsmith had a great opinion. The proposal was acceded to; a servant was immediately 
 despatched with a message ; and, on his arrival, the two doctors assisted at a consultation, 
 which they continued regularly every day till the disorder put a period to the existence of 
 their patient, on the fourth day of April, 1774, in the 45th year of his age. 
 
 His friends, who were very numerous and respectable, had determined to bury him in 
 Westminster-abbey : his pall was to have been supported by Lord Shelburne, Lord Louth, 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds, the Honourable Mr. Beauclerc, Mr. Edmund Burke, and Mr. Garrick ; 
 but, from some unaccountable circumstances, this design was dropped; and his remains were 
 privately deposited in the Temple burial-ground, on Saturday, the 9th of April ; when Mr. 
 Hugh Kelly, Messrs. John and Robert Day, Mr. Palmer, Mr. Etherington, and Mr. Hawes, 
 gentlemen who had been his friends in life, attended his corpse as mourners, and paid the last 
 tribute to his memory. 
 
 A subscription, however, was afterwards raised by his friends, to defray the expense of a 
 marble monument, which was placed in Westminster-abbey, between Gay's monument -and 
 the Duke of Argyle's, in the Poet's corner, with the following Latin inscription, written by his 
 friend Dr. Samuel Johnson : 
 
Xll 
 
 LIFE OF GOLDSMITH. 
 
 OLIVARI GOLDSMITH, 
 
 Poetae, Physici, Historic!, 
 qui nullum fere scribendi genus 
 
 non tetigit, 
 
 nullum quod tetigit non ornavit; 
 sive risus cssent movendi, 
 
 sive lacrymae, 
 
 affectuum potens, at lenis dominator ; 
 
 ingeoio sublimis, vividus, versatilis ; 
 
 oratione grandis, p.itidus, venustus j 
 
 hoc monumento memoriain coluit 
 
 sodalium amor, 
 
 amicorum fides, 
 
 lectorum veneratio. 
 
 Natus Hibernia, Forniae Lonfordiensis, 
 
 in loco cui nomen Pallas, 
 
 Nov. xxix. MDCCXXXI. 
 
 Eblanre liter is insti tutus, 
 
 obiit Londini, 
 April iv. MbCCLXXIV. 
 
 Trantlation. 
 This monument is raised to the memory of 
 
 OLIVER GOLDSMITH, 
 
 Poet, Natural Philosopher, and Historian, 
 
 who left no species of writing untouched, or 
 
 unadorned by his pen, 
 
 whether to move laughter, or draw tears : 
 
 he was a powerful master over the affections, 
 
 though at the same time, a gentle tyrant ; 
 
 of a genius 
 at once sublime, lively, and equal to every subject : 
 
 in expression at once noble, pure, and delicate. 
 His memory will last as long as society retains affection, 
 
 friendship is not void of honour, 
 
 and reading wants not her admirers. 
 
 He was born in the kingdom of Ireland, at Femes, 
 
 in the province of Leinster, 
 Where Pallas had set her name, 
 
 Nov. 29, 1731. 
 
 He was educated at Dublin, and died in London, 
 April 4, 1774. 
 
 We insert the following lines, in verse and prose, written by a friend immediately after his 
 death, as they were deemed faithful transcripts of his character. 
 
 Here rests, from the cares of the world and his pen, 
 A poet, whose like we shall scarce meet again ; 
 Who, though form'd in an age when corruption ran 
 
 high, 
 
 And folly alone seem'd with folly to vie ; 
 When genius, with traffic too commonly train'd, 
 Recounted her merits by what she hacPgain'd ; 
 Yet spurn'd at those walks of debasement and pelf, 
 And in poverty's spite dar'd to think for himself. 
 Thus free'd from those fetters the muses oft bind, 
 He wrote from the heart to the hearts of mankind ; 
 And such was the prevalent force of his song, 
 Sex, ages, and parties, he drew in a throng. 
 
 The lovers 'twas theirs to esteem and commend, 
 /for his Hermit had prov'd him their tutor and friend : 
 > The statesmen, his politic passions on fire, 
 Acknowledg'd repose from the charms of his lyre. 
 The moralist too had a feel for his rhymes, 
 For his Essays were curbs on the rage of the times ; 
 Nay, the critic, all school'd in grammatical sense, 
 Who look'd in the glow of description for sense ; 
 
 Reform'd as he read, fell a dupe to his art, 
 
 And confess'd by his eyes what he felt at his heart. 
 
 Yet, blest with original powers like these, 
 
 His principal force was on paper to please ; 
 
 Like a fleet-footed hunter, though first in the chace, 
 
 On the road of plain sense he oit slacken'd his pace ; 
 
 Whilst dullness and cunning, by whipping and goring, 
 
 Tlieir hard-footed hackneys paraded before him ; 
 
 Compounded likewise of sucli primitive parts, 
 
 That his manners alone would have gain'd him our hearts. 
 
 So simple in truth, so ingenuously kind, 
 So ready to feel for the wants of mankind ; 
 Yet praise but an author of popular quill, 
 His flux of philanthropy quickly stood still; 
 Transform'd from himself, he grew meanly severe, 
 And rail'd at those talents he ought not to fear. 
 
 Such then were his foibles ; but though they were such 
 As shadow'd the picture a little too much, 
 The style was all graceful, expressive ind grand, 
 And the whole the result of a masterly hand. 
 
LIFE OF GOLDSMITH. xiii 
 
 The prosaic eulogium which follows, does the highest honour to his character, both literary 
 and personal. 
 
 " In an age when genius and learning are too generally sacrificed to the purposes of ambi- 
 tion and avarice, it is the consolation of virtue, as well as its friends, that they can commemo- 
 rate the name of Goldsmith as a shining example to the contrary. 
 
 " Early compelled (like many of the greatest men) into the service of the muses, he never 
 once permitted his necessities to have the least improper influence on his conduct; but, know- 
 ing and respecting the honourable line of his profession, he made no farther use of fiction, than 
 to set off the dignity of truth; and in this he succeeded so happily, that his writings stamp 
 him no less the man of genius, than the universal friend of mankind. 
 
 " Such is the outline of his poetical character, which, perhaps, will be remembered, whilst 
 the first rate poets of this country have any monuments left them. But, alas ! his noble and 
 immortal part, the good man, is only consigned to the short-lived memory of those who are 
 left to lament his death. 
 
 " Having naturally a powerful bias on his mind to the cause of virtue, he was cheerful and 
 indefatigable in every pursuit of it; warm in his friendship, gentle in his manners, and in 
 every act of charity and benevolence, " the very milk of human nature." Nay, even his foi- 
 bles, and little weaknesses of temper, may be said rather to simplify than degrade his under- 
 standing; for, though there may be many instances adduced, to prove he was no man of the 
 ivorld, most of those instances would attest the unadulterated purity of his heart. One who 
 esteemed the kindness and friendship of such a man, as forming a principal part of the happi- 
 ness of his life, pays this last sincere and grateful tribute to his memory," 
 
 The esteem in which our Author was held by Dr. Johnson, is evident from the following 
 passage, extracted from a letter of the Doctor to Mr. Boswell, soon after his demise. " Of 
 poor dear Dr. Goldsmith there is little to be told, more than the papers have made public. 
 He died of a fever, made, I am afraid, more violent by uneasiness of mind. His debts be- 
 gan to be heavy, and all his resources were exhausted. Sir Joshua Reynolds is of opinion, 
 that he owed no less than two thousand pounds. Was ever poet so trusted before ?" 
 
 To so high a degree of literary fame did Goldsmith arrive, that the product of his writings 
 in general is said to have amounted, in the course of fourteen years, to more than 8000, but 
 this sm WHS dissipated by an improvident liberality without discrimination of objects, and 
 other foibles incidental to mankind, which our Author could not see in himself; or, if he could 
 see, wanted resolution to correct. But with these foibles he possessed many virtues, and 
 those particularly of humanity and benevolence, which disposed him to do all the good within 
 his power ; so that he lived respected, and died lamented. 
 
 "Thepersr. of Goldsmith," (says Mr. Boswell, in his Life of Dr. Johnson,) "was short; 
 his countenance coarse and vulgar ; his deportment that of a scholar, awkwardly affecting the 
 
LIFE OF GOLDSMITH. 
 
 complete gentleman. No man had the art of displaying, with more advantage as a writer, 
 whatever literary acquisitions he made. His mind resembled a fertile but thin soil ; there 
 was a quick but not a strong vegetation of whatever chanced to be thrown upon it. No deep 
 root could be struck. The oak of the forest did not grow there ; but the elegant shrubbery, 
 and the fragrant parterre, appeared in gay succession. It has been generally circulated, and 
 believed, that he was a mere fool in conversation. In allusion to this, Mr. Horatio Walpole, 
 who admired his writings, said, he was "an inspired idiot;" andGarrick describes him as one: 
 
 -for shortness call'd Noll, 
 
 Who wrote like an angel, and talk'd like poor P"M. 
 
 t 
 
 But, in reality, these descriptions are greatly exaggerated. He had, no doubt, a more than 
 common share of that hurry of ideas, which we often find in his countrymen, and which some- 
 times introduces a laughable confusion in expressing them. He was very much what the 
 French call un et vurdie ; and from vanity, and an eager desire of being conspicuous wherever 
 he was, he frequently talked carelessly, without any knowledge of the subject, or even with- 
 out thought. Those who were any ways distinguished, excited envy in him to so ridiculous 
 an excess, that the instances of it are hardly credible. He, I am told, had no settled system 
 of any sort, so that his conduct must not be too strictly criticised; but his affections were 
 social and generous ; and when he had money, he bestowed it liberally. His desires of ima- 
 ginary consequence frequently predominated over his attention to truth. 
 
 In the opinion of many of the literati, Goldsmith rivalled in prose writing, and even sur- 
 passed, Dr. Johnson. His prose has been admitted as the model of perfection, and the stan- 
 dard of the English language. Dr. Johnson says, "Goldsmith was a man of such variety of 
 powers, and such felicity of performance, that he seemed to excel in whatever he attempted; 
 a man who had the art of being minute without tediousness, and general without confusion ; 
 whose language was capacious without exuberance; exact without restraint; and easy with- 
 out weakness." 
 
 The most admired of his prosaic writings are the Vicar of Wakefield, Essays, Letters from a 
 Nobleman to his Son, and Life of Parnetl. 
 
 With respect to the Vicar of Wakefield, it is certainly a composition which has justly merit- 
 ed the applause of all discerning persons as one of the best novels in the English language. 
 The diction is chaste, correct, and elegant. The characters are drawn to the life ; and the 
 scenes it exhibits are ingeniously variegated with humour and sentiment. The hero of the 
 piece displays the most shining virtues that can adorn relative and social life ; sincere in his 
 professions, humane and generous in his disposition, he is himself a pattern of the character 
 he represents, enforcing that excellent maxim, that example is more powerful than precept. 
 
LIFE OF GOLDSMITH. xv 
 
 His wife is drawn as possessing many laudable qualifications; and her prevailing passion for 
 external parade is an inoffensive foible, calculated rather to excite our mirth than incur our 
 censure. The character of Olivia, the Vicar's eldest daughter, is contrasted with that of So- 
 phia, the younger; the one being represented as of a disposition gay and volatile, the other 
 as rather grave and steady; though neither of them seems to have indulged their peculiar 
 propensity beyond the bounds of moderation. 
 
 Upon a review of this excellent production, it may be truly said, that it inculcates the purest 
 lessons of morality and virtue, free from the rigid laws of stoicism, and adapted to attract the 
 esteem and observation of every ingenious mind. It excites not a thought that can be injuri- 
 ous in its tendency, nor breaths an idea that can offend the chastest ear; or, as it has been 
 expressed, the language is such as "angels might have heard, and virgins told." The writer, 
 who suggested this pleasing idea, observes further, that, " if we do not always admire his 
 knowledge or extensive philosophy, we feel the benevolence of his heart, and are charmed 
 with the purity of its principles. If we do not follow, with awful reverence, the majesty of his 
 reason, or the dignity of the long-extended period, we at least catch a pleasing sentiment in 
 a natural and unaffected style." 
 
 Goldsmith's merit, as a poet, is universally acknowledged. His writings partake rather of 
 the elegance and harmony of Pope, than the grandeur and sublimity of Milton; and, as we ob- 
 served before, from the authority of Dr. Johnson, he rivals every writer of verse since the 
 death of Pope; and it is to be lamented that his poetical productions are not more numerous; 
 for though his ideas flowed rapiJly, he arranged them with great caution, and occupied much 
 time in polishing his periods, and harmonizing his numbers. 
 
 His most favourite Poems are the Traveller, Deserted Village, Hermit, and Retaliation. These 
 productions may justly be ranked with the most admired works in English Poetry. 
 
 The Traveller delights us with a display of charming imagery, refined ideas, and happy ex- 
 pression. The characteristics of the different natiqns are strongly marked, and the predilec- 
 tion of each inhabitant in favour of his own ingeniously described. 
 
 The Deserted Village is generally admired : the characters are drawn from the life. The 
 descriptions are lively and picturesque ; and the whole appears so easy and natural, as to 
 bear the semblance of historical truth more than poetical fiction. 
 
 The Hermit holds equal estimation with the rest of his poetical productions; and its beau- 
 ties did not fail to attract the notice of the artist. The subject is delineated in a masterly 
 manner by the pencil of Mr. Kirk, to which ample justice is done by the engraving of Mr. 
 Anker Smith ; and, through the united skill of those ingenious artists, produces a very chaste 
 and elegant vignette. 
 
 His last poem of Retaliation, to which we have before adverted, is replete with humour, free 
 
LIFE OF GOLDSMITH. 
 
 from spleen, and forcibly exhibits the prominent features of the several characters to which 
 it alludes. Dr. Johnson, as reported by Mr. Boswell, sums up his literary character in the 
 following concise manner. " Take him [Goldsmith] as a Poet, his Traveller is a very fine per- 
 formance, and so is his DeSerted Village, were it not sometimes too much the echo of his Tro- 
 veller. Whether we take him as a poet, as a comic writer, or as an historian, he stands in the 
 first class." 
 
HISTORY OF THE EARTH. 
 
 CHAPTER 1. 
 
 A SKETCH OF THE UNIVERSE. 
 
 HHHE world may be considered as one vast 
 mansion, where man has been admitted 
 to enjoy, to admire, and to be grateful. The 
 first desires of savage nature are merely to 
 gratify the importunities of sensual appetite, 
 and to neglect the contemplation of things, 
 barely satisfied with their enjoyment : the 
 beauties of nature, and all the wonders of 
 creation, have but little charms for a being 
 taken up in obviating the wants of the day, 
 and anxious for precarious subsistence. 
 
 Philosophers, therefore, who have testified 
 such surprise at the want of curiosity in the 
 ignorant, seem not to consider that they are 
 usually employed in making provisions of a 
 more important nature ; in providing rather 
 for the necessities than the amusements of 
 life. It is not till our more pressing wants are 
 sufficiently supplied, that we can attend to the 
 calls of curiosity; so that in every age scien- 
 tific refinement has been the latest effort of 
 human industry. 
 
 But human curiosity, though at first slowly 
 excited, being at last possessed of leisure for 
 indulging its propensity, becomes one of the 
 greatest amusements of life, and gives higher 
 satisfactions than what even the senses can 
 afford. A man of this disposition turns all 
 nature into a magnificent theatre, replete with 
 objects of wonder and surprise, and fitted up 
 chiefly for his happiness and entertainment : 
 he industriously examines all things, from the 
 
 minutest insect to the most finished animal; 
 and, when his limited organs can no longer 
 make the disquisition, he sends out his imagi- 
 nation upon new inquiries. 
 
 Nothing, therefore, can be more august and 
 striking than the idea which his reason, aided 
 by his imagination, furnishes of the universe 
 around him. Astronomers tell us, that this 
 earth which we inhabit forms but a very mi- 
 nute part in that great assemblage of bodies 
 of which the world is composed. It is a mil- 
 lion of times less than the sun, by which it is 
 enlightened. The planets also, which, like 
 it, are subordinate to the sun's influence, ex- 
 ceed the earth a thousand times in magni- 
 tude. These, which were at first supposed 
 to wander in the heavens without any fixed 
 pathj and that took their name from their ap- 
 parent deviations, have long been found to 
 perform their circuits with great exactness 
 ancl strict regularity. They have been dis- 
 covered as forming, with our earth, a system 
 of bodies circulating round the sun, all obe- 
 dient to one law, and impelled by one com- 
 mon influence. 
 
 Modern philosophy has taught us to be- 
 lieve, that, when the great Author of nature 
 began the work of creation, he chose to 
 operate by second causes; and that, suspend- 
 ing the constant exertion of his power, he 
 endued matter with a quality, by which the 
 universal economy of nature might be con- 
 
A HISTORY OF 
 
 tinued without his immediate assistance. 
 This quality is called attraction ; a sort of 
 approximating influence, which all bodies, 
 whether terrestrial or celestial, are found to 
 possess; and which in all increases as the 
 quantity of matter in each increases. The 
 sun, by far the greatest body in our system, is, 
 of consequence, possessed of much the great- 
 est share of this attracting power ; and all the 
 planets, of which our earth is one, are, of j 
 course, entirely subject to its superior in- 
 fluence. Were this power, therefore, left 
 uncontrolled by any other, the sun must 
 quickly have attracted all the bodies of our 
 celestial system to itself; but it is equally 
 counteracted by another power of equal ef- 
 ficacy; namely, a progressive force, which 
 each planet received when it was impelled 
 forward by the divine Architect, upon its first 
 formation. The heavenly bodies of our sys- 
 tem being thus acted upon by two opposing 
 powers ; namely, by that of attraction, which 
 draws them towards the sun; and that of 
 impulsion, which drives them straight forward 
 into the great void of space ; they pursue a 
 track between these contrary directions ; and 
 each, like a stone whirled about in a sling, 
 obeying two opposite forces, circulates round 
 its great centre of heat and motion. 
 
 In this manner, therefore, is the harmony 
 of our planetary system preserved. The sun, 
 in the midst, gives heat, and light, and cir- 
 cular motion, to the planets which surround 
 it : Mercury, Venus, the Earth, Mars. Jupiter, 
 Saturn, and Herschel, or the Georgium Sidus, 
 perform their constant circuits at different 
 distances, each taking up a time to complete 
 its revolutions proportioned to the greatness 
 of the circle which it is to describe. The 
 lesser planets also, which are attendants upon 
 some of the greater, are subject to the same 
 laws ; they circulate with the same exactness ; 
 and are, in the same manner, influenced by 
 their respective centres of motion. 
 
 Besides those bodies which make a part 
 of our peculiar system, and which may be 
 said to reside within its great circumference, 
 there are others that frequently come among us, 
 from the most distant tracts of space, and that 
 seem like dangerous intruders upon the beau- 
 tiful simplicity of nature. These are Comets, 
 whose appearance was once so terrible to 
 
 mankind ; and the theory of which is so little 
 understood at present : all we know is, that 
 their number is much greater than that of the 
 planets; and that, like these, they roll in 
 orbits, in some measure obedient to solar in- 
 fluence. Astronomers have endeavoured to 
 calculate the returning periods of many of 
 them; but experience has not, as yet, con- 
 firmed the veracity of their investigations. 
 Indeed, who can tell, when those wanderers 
 have made their excursions into other worlds 
 and distant systems, what obstacles may be 
 found to oppose their progress, to accelerate 
 their motions, or retard their return ? 
 
 But what we have hitherto attempted to 
 sketch, is but a small part of that great fabric 
 in which the Deity has thought proper to 
 manifest his wisdom and omnipotence. There 
 are multitudes of other bodies, dispersed over 
 the face of the heavens, that lie too remote for 
 examination: these have no motion, such as the 
 planets are found to possess, and are there- 
 fore called fixed stars; and from their extreme 
 brilliancy, and their immense distance, philo- 
 sophers have been induced to suppose them 
 to be suns, resembling that which enlivens 
 our system. As the imagination also, once 
 excited, is seldom content to stop, it has fur- 
 nished each with an attendant system of pla- 
 nets belonging to itself; and has even induced 
 some to deplore the fate of those systems, 
 whose imagined suns, which sometimes hap- 
 pens, have become no longer visible. 
 
 But conjectures of this kind, which no rea- 
 soning can ascertain, nor experiment reach, 
 are rather amusing than useful. Though we 
 see the greatness and wisdom of the Deity in 
 all the seeming worlds that surround us, it is 
 our chief concern to trace him in that which 
 we inhabit. The examination of the earth, 
 the wonders of its contrivance, the history of 
 its advantages, or of the seeming defects in 
 its formation, are the proper business of the 
 natural historian. A description of this earth, 
 its animals, vegetables, and minerals, is the most 
 delightful entertainment the mind can be fur- 
 nished with, as it is the most interesting and 
 useful. I would beg leave, therefore, to con- 
 clude these common-place specula' it ns. with 
 an observation which,! hope,is not entirely so. 
 
 An use, hitherto not much insist vd upon, 
 that may result from the contemplation of ce- 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 lestial magnificence, is, that it will teach us to 
 make an allowance for the apparent irregu- 
 larities we find below. Whenever we can 
 examine the works of the Deity at a proper 
 point of distance, so as to take in the whole 
 of his design, we see nothing but uniformity, 
 beauty, and precision. The heavens present 
 us with a plan, which, though inexpressibly 
 magnificent, is yet regular beyond the power 
 of invention. Whenever, therefore, we find 
 
 any apparent defects in the earth, which we 
 are about to consider, instead of attempting 
 to reason ourselves into an opinion that they 
 are beautiful, it will be wiser to say, that we 
 do not behold them at the proper point of dis- 
 tance, and that our eye is laid too close to the 
 objects, to take in the regularity of their con- 
 nexion. In short, we may conclude, that God, 
 who is regular in his GREAT productions, acts 
 with equal uniformity in the LITTLE. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A SHORT SURVEY OF THE GLOBE, FROM THE LIGHT OF ASTRONOMY AND 
 
 GEOGRAPHY. 
 
 ALL the sciences are in some measure 
 linked with each other, and before the one is 
 ended, the other begins. In a natural histo- 
 ry, therefore, of the earth, we must begin with 
 a short account of its situation and form, as 
 given us by astronomers and geographers : it 
 will be sufficient, however, upon this occa- 
 sion, just to hint to the imagination, what they, 
 by the most abstract reasonings, have forced 
 upon the understanding. The earth which 
 we inhabit is, as has been said before, one of 
 those bodies which circulate in our solar sys- 
 tem; it is placed at a happy middle distance 
 from the centre ; and even seems, in this re- 
 spect, privileged beyond all other planets 
 that depend upon our great luminary for their 
 support. Less distant from the sun than Her- 
 schel, or the Georgium Sidus, Saturn, Jupiter, 
 and Mars, and yet less parched up than Ve- 
 nus and Mercury, that are situate too near 
 the violence of its power, the earth seems in 
 a peculiar manner to share the bounty of the 
 Creator : it is not, therefore, without reason, 
 that mankind consider themselves as the pe- 
 culiar objects of his providence and regard. 
 
 Besides that motion which the earth has 
 round the sun, the circuit of which is per- 
 formed in a year, it has another upon its own 
 axle, which it performs in twenty-four hours. 
 Thus, like a chariot-wheel, it has a compound 
 motion; for while it goes forward on its jour- 
 ney, it is all the while turning upon itself. 
 From the first of these two arise the grateful 
 
 vicissitude of the seasons; from the second, 
 that of day and night. 
 
 It may be also readily conceived, that a 
 body thus wheeling in circles will most pro- 
 bably be itself a sphere. The earth, beyond 
 all possibility of doubt, is found to be so. 
 Whenever its shadow happens to fall upon 
 the moon, in an eclipse, it appears to be al- 
 ways circular, in whatever position it is pro- 
 jected : and it is easy to prove, that a body 
 which in every position makes a circular sha- 
 dow, must itself be round. The rotundity of 
 the earth may be also proved from the meeting 
 of two ships at sea: the topmasts of each are 
 the first parts that are discovered by both, 
 the under parts being hidden by the convexi- 
 ty of the globe which rises between them. 
 The ships, in this instance, may be resembled 
 to two men who approach each other on the 
 opposite sides of a hill: their heads will first 
 be seen, and gradually as they come nearer 
 they will come entirely into view. 
 
 However, though the earth's figure is said 
 to be spherical, we ought only to conceive it as 
 being nearly so. It has been found in the last 
 age to be rather flatted at both poles, so that its 
 form is commonly resembled to that of a turnip. 
 The cause of this swelling of the equator is 
 ascribed to the greater rapidity of the motion 
 with which the parts of the earth are there 
 carried round ; and which, consequently, en- 
 deavouring to fly off, act in opposition to cen- 
 tral attraction. The twirling of a mop may 
 
A HISTORY OF 
 
 serve as an homely illustration; which, as 
 every one has seen, spreads and grows broad- 
 er in the middle as it continues to be turned 
 round. 
 
 As the earth receives light and motion from 
 the sun, so it derives much of its warmth and 
 power of vegetation from the same beneficent 
 source. However, the different parts of the 
 globe participate of these advantages in very 
 different proportions, and accordingly put on 
 very different appearances ; a polar prospect, 
 and a landscape at the equator, are as oppo- 
 site in their appearances as in their situation. 
 The polar regions, that receive the solar 
 beams in a very oblique direction, and conti- 
 nue for one half of the year in night, receive 
 but few of the genial comforts which other 
 parts of the world enjoy. Nothing can be more 
 mournful or hideous than the picture which 
 travellers present of those wretched regions. 
 The ground, "which is rocky and barren, rears 
 itself in every place in lofty mountains and in- 
 accessible cliffs, and meets the mariner's eye 
 at even forty leagues from shore These pre- 
 cipices, frightful in themselves, receive an ad- 
 ditional horror from being constantly covered 
 with ice and snow, which daily seem to accu- 
 mulate, and fill all the valleys with increasing 
 desolation. The few rocks and cliffs that are 
 bare of snow, look at a distance of a dark 
 brown colour, and quite naked. Upon a near- 
 er approach, however, they are found replete 
 with many different veins of coloured stone, 
 here and there spread over with a little earth, 
 and a scanty portion of grass and heath. The 
 internal parts of the country are still more de- 
 solate and deterring. In wandering through 
 these solitudes, some plains appear covered 
 with ice, that, at first glance, seem to promise 
 the traveller an easy journey. 6 But these are 
 even more formidable and more unpassable 
 than the mountains themselves, being cleft 
 with dreadful chasms, and every where 
 abounding with pits that threaten certain de- 
 struction. The seas that surround these in- 
 hospitable coasts are still more astonishing, 
 being covered with flakes of floating ice, that 
 spread like extensive fields, or that rise out of 
 the water like enormous mountains. These, 
 
 * Crantz's History of Greenland, p. 3. 
 "Ibid. p. 22. 'Ibid. p. 27. 
 
 which are composed of materials as clear and 
 transparent as glass, c assume many strange and 
 fantastic appearances. Some of them look 
 like churches or castles, with pointed turrets ; 
 some like ships in full sail ; and people have 
 often given themselves the fruitless toil to at- 
 tempt piloting the imaginary vessels into har- 
 bour. There are still others that appear like 
 large islands, with plains, valleys, and hills, 
 which often rear their heads two hundred 
 yards above the level of the sea ; and although 
 the height of these be amazing, yet their depth 
 beneath is still more so; some of them being 
 found to sink three hundred fathom under 
 water. 
 
 The earth presents a very different appear- 
 ance at the equator, where the sun-beams, 
 darting directly downwards, burn up the light- 
 er soils into extensive sandy deserts, or quick- 
 en all the moister tracts with incredible vege- 
 tation. In these regions, almost all the same 
 inconveniences are felt from the proximity of 
 the sun, that in the former were endured from 
 its absence The deserts are entirely barren, 
 except where they are found to produce ser- 
 pents, and that in such quantities, that some 
 extensive plains seem almost entirely covered 
 with them. u 
 
 It not unfrequently happens also, that this 
 dry soil, which is so parched and comminu- 
 ted by the force of the sun, rises with the 
 smallest breeze of wind ; and the sands being 
 composed of parts almost as small as those of 
 water, they assume a similar appearance, roll- 
 ing onward in waves like those of a troubled 
 sea, and overwhelming all they meet with in- 
 evitable destruction. On the other hand, 
 those tracts which are fertile, teem with ve- 
 getation even to a noxious degree. The grass 
 rises to such a height as often to require burn- 
 ing ; the forests are impassable from under- 
 woods, and so matted above, that even the 
 sun, fierce as it is, can seldom penetrate.* 
 These are so thick as scarcely to be extirpa- 
 ted ; for the tops being so bound together by 
 the climbing plants that grow round them, 
 though an hundred should be cut at the bot- 
 tom, yet no one would fall, as they mutually 
 support each other. In these dark and tan- 
 
 d Adanson's Description of Senegal. 
 e Limuri Amienit. vol. vi. p. 67- 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 gled forests, beasts of various kinds, insects in 
 astonishing abundance, and serpents of sur- 
 prising magnitude, find a quiet retreat from 
 man, and are seldom disturbed except by each 
 other. 
 
 In this manner the extremes of our globe 
 seem equally unfitted for the comforts and con- 
 veniences of life : and although the imagina- 
 tion may find an awful pleasure in contempla- 
 ting the frightful precipices of Greenland, or 
 the luxurious verdure of Africa, yet true hap- 
 piness can only be found in the more moder- 
 ate climates, where the gifts of nature may 
 be enjoyed, without incurring danger in ob- 
 taining them. 
 
 It is in the temperate zone, therefore, that 
 
 all the arts of improving nature, and refining 
 upon happiness, have been invented : and this 
 part of the earth is, more properly speaking, 
 the theatre of natural history. Although there 
 be millions of animals and vegetables in the 
 unexplored forests under the line, yet most of 
 these may for ever continue unknown, as cu- 
 riosity is there repressed by surrounding dan- 
 ger. But it is otherwise in these delightful 
 regions which we inhabit, and where this art 
 has had its beginning. Among us there is 
 scarce a shrub, a flower, or an insect, without 
 its particular history; scarce a plant that could 
 be useful, which has not been propagated; 
 nor a weed that could be noxious, which has 
 not been pointed out. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A VIEW OF THE SURFACE OF THE EARTH. 
 
 WHEN we take a slight survey of the sur- 
 face of our globe, a thousand objects offer 
 themselves, which, though long known, yet 
 still demand our curiosity. The most obvious 
 beauty that every where strikes the eye is the 
 verdant covering of the earth, which is form- 
 ed by an happy mixture of herbs and trees of 
 various magnitudes and uses. It has been of- 
 ten remarked, that no colour refreshes the 
 sight so much as green : and it may be added, 
 as a further proof of the assertion, that the in- 
 habitants of those places where the fields are 
 continually white with snow, generally be- 
 come blind long before the usual course of 
 nature. 
 
 This advantage, which arises from the ver- 
 dure of the fields, is not a little improved by 
 their agreeable inequalities. There are 
 scarcely two natural landscapes that offer 
 prospects entirely resembling each other; 
 their risings and depressions, their hills and 
 valleys, are never entirely the same, but al- 
 ways offer something new to entertain and 
 refresh the imagination. 
 
 But to increase the beauties of the face of 
 
 nature, the landscape is enlivened by springs 
 and lakes, and intersected by rivulets. These 
 lend a brightness to the prospect ; give mo- 
 tion and coolness to the air ; and, what is 
 much more important, furnish health and sub- 
 sistence to animated nature. 
 
 Such are the most obvious and tranquil ob- 
 jects that every where offer : but there are 
 objects of a more awful and magnificent kind ; 
 the Mountain rising above the clouds, and 
 topt with snow; the River pouring down its 
 sides, increasing as it runs, and losing itself, 
 at last, in the ocean ; the Ocean spreading its 
 immense sheet of waters over one half of the 
 globe, swelling and subsiding at well known 
 intervals, and forming a communication be- 
 tween the most distant parts of the earth. 
 
 If we leave those objects that seem to be 
 natural to our earth, and keep the same con- 
 stant tenor, we are presented with the great 
 irregularities of nature: the burning moun- 
 tain; the abrupt precipice; the unfathoma- 
 ble cavern ; the headlong cataract ; and the 
 rapid whirlpool. 
 
 If we carry our curiosity a little further, 
 
6 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 and descend to the objects immediately be- 
 low the surface of the globe, we shall there 
 find wonders still as amazing. We first per- 
 ceive the earth for the most part lying in re- 
 gular beds or layers, every bed growing thick- 
 er in proportion as it lies deeper, and its con- 
 tents more compact and heavy. We shall 
 find, almost wherever we make our subterra- 
 nean inquiry, an amazing number of shells 
 that once belonged to aquatic animals. Here 
 and there, at a distance from the sea, beds of 
 oyster-shells, several yards thick, and many 
 miles over; sometimes testaceous substances 
 of various kinds on the tops of mountains, and 
 often in the heart of the hardest marble. 
 These, which are dug up by the peasants in 
 every country, are regarded with little curi- 
 osity ; for being so very common, they are 
 considered as substances entirely terrene. 
 But it is otherwise with the inquirer after na- 
 ture, who finds them, not only in shape but 
 in substance, every way resembling those that 
 are found in the sea; and he, therefore, is at 
 a loss to account for their removal. 
 
 Yet not one part of nature alone, but all 
 her productions and varieties, become the ob- 
 ject of the speculative man's inquiry : he takes 
 different views of nature from the inattentive 
 spectator; and scarcely an appearance, how 
 common soever, but affords matter for his 
 contemplation : he inquires how and why the 
 surface of the earth has those risings and de- 
 pressions which most men call natural ; he 
 demands in what manner the mountains were 
 formed, and in what consists their uses ; he 
 asks from whence springs arise, and how ri- 
 vers flow round the convexity of the globe ; he 
 enters into an examination of the ebbings and 
 flowings, and the other wonders, of the deep ; 
 he acquaints himself with the irregularities of 
 nature, and endeavours to investigate their 
 causes ; by which, at least, he will become 
 better versed in their history. The internal 
 structure of the globe becomes an object of 
 his curiosity ; and, although his inquiries can 
 fathom but a very little way, yet, if possessed 
 with a spirit of theory, his imagination will 
 supply the rest. He will endeavour to ac- 
 count for the situation of the marine fossils 
 
 Buffon, Woodward. Burnet, Whiston, Kircher, Bour- 
 quat, Leibnitz, Steno, Ray, &c. 
 
 that are found in the earth, and for the ap- 
 pearance of the different beds of which it is 
 composed. These have been the inquiries 
 that have splendidly employed many of the 
 philosophers of the last and present age, and, 
 to a certain degree, they must be serviceable. 
 But the worst of it is, that, as speculations 
 amuse the writer more than facts, they may 
 be often carried to an extravagant length ; 
 and that time may be spent in reasoning upon 
 nature, which might be more usefully em- 
 ployed in writing her history. 
 
 Too much speculation in natural history is 
 certainly wrong; but there is a defect of an 
 opposite nature that does much more preju- 
 dice ; namely, that of silencing all inquiry, by 
 alleging the benefits we receive from a thing, 
 instead of investigating the cause of its pro- 
 duction. If I inquire how a mountain came to 
 be formed ; such a reasoner, enumerating its 
 benefits, answers, because God knew it would 
 be useful. If I demand the cause of an earth- 
 quake, he finds some good produced by it, 
 and alleges that as the cause of its explosion. 
 Thus such an inquirer has constantly some 
 ready reason for every appearance in nature, 
 which serves to swell his periods, and give 
 splendour to his declamation ; every thing 
 about him is, on some account or other, decla- 
 red to be good ; and he thinks it presumption 
 to scrutinize into its defects, or to endeavour 
 to imagine how it might be better. Such wri- 
 ters, and there are many such, add very little 
 to the advancement of knowledge. It is finely 
 remarked by Bacon, that the investigation of 
 final causes" is a barren study ; and, like a 
 virgin dedicated to the Deity, brings forth 
 nothing. In fact, those men who want to com- 
 pel every appearance and every irregularity 
 m nature into our service, and expatiate on 
 their benefits, combat that very moralitj 
 which they would seem to promote. God 
 has permitted thousands of natural evils to 
 exist in the world, because it is by their inter- 
 vention that man is capable of moral evil; 
 and he has permitted that we should be sub- 
 ject to moral evil, that we might do something 
 to deserve eternal happiness, by showing that 
 we had rectitude to avoid it. 
 
 b Investigatio causarum finalium sterifis est, et veluti 
 virgo Deo dedicata, nil parit. 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A REVIEW OF THE DIFFERENT THEORIES OF THE EARTH. 
 
 HUMAN invention has been exercised for 
 several ages to account for the various irre- 
 gularities of the earth. While those philo- 
 sophers, mentioned in the last chapter, see 
 nothing but beauty, symmetry, and order; 
 there are others, who look upon the gloomy 
 side of nature, enlarge on its defects, and 
 seem to consider the earth, on which they 
 tread, as one scene of extensive desolation." 
 Beneath its surface they observe minerals 
 and waters confusedly jumbled together; its 
 different beds of earth irregularly lying upon 
 each other; mountains rising from places that 
 once were level; b and hills sinking into val- 
 leys; whole regions swallowed by the sea, 
 and others again rising out of its bosom. All 
 these they suppose to be but a few of the 
 changes that have been wrought in our globe; 
 and they send out the imagination to describe 
 its primeval state of beauty. 
 
 Of those who have written theories de- 
 scribing the manner of the original formation 
 of the earth, or accounting for its present ap- 
 pearances, the most celebrated are Burnet, 
 Whiston, Woodward, and Buffbn. As specu- 
 lation is endless, so it is not to be wondered 
 that all these differ from each other, and give 
 opposite accounts of the several changes, 
 which they suppose our earth to have under- 
 gone. As the systems of each have had their 
 admirers, it is, in some measure, incumbent 
 upon the natural historian to be acquainted, 
 at least, with their outlines ; and, indeed, to 
 know what others have even dreamed in mat- 
 ters of science, is very useful, as it may often 
 prevent us from indulging similar delusions 
 ourselves, which we should never have adopt- 
 ed, but because we take them to be wholly 
 our own. However, as entering into a detail 
 of these theories is rather furnishing a history 
 of opinions than things, I will endeavour to 
 be as concise as I can. 
 
 The first who formed this amusement of 
 earth-making into system, was the celebrated 
 
 Buffon's Second Discourse. 
 NO. 2. 
 
 Thomas Burnet, a man of polite learning and 
 rapid imagination. His Sacred Theory, as he 
 calls it, describing the changes which the 
 earth has undergone, or shall hereafter un- 
 dergo, is well known for the warmth with 
 which it is imagined, and the weakness with 
 which it is reasoned; for the elegance of its- 
 style, and the meanness of its philosophy. 
 " The earth," says he, " before the deluge, 
 was very differently formed from what it is at 
 present : it was at first a fluid mass ; a chaos 
 composed of various substances, differing both 
 in density and figure : those which were most 
 heavy sunk to the centre, and formed in the 
 middle of our globe a hard solid body ; those 
 of a lighter nature remained next ; and the 
 waters, which were lighter still, swam upon 
 its surface, and covered the earth on every 
 side. The air, and all those fluids which were 
 lighter than water, floated upon this also ; and 
 in the same manner encompassed the globe ; 
 so that between the surrounding body of wa- 
 ters, and the circumambient air, there was 
 formed a coat of oil, and other unctuous sub- 
 stances, lighter than water. However, as the 
 air was still extremely impure, and must have 
 carried up with it many of those earthy parti- 
 cles with which itoncewas intimately blended, 
 it soon began to defecate, and to depose these 
 particles upon the oily surface already men- 
 tioned, which soon uniting, the earth and oil 
 formed that crust, which soon became an ha- 
 bitable surface, giving life to vegetation, and 
 dwelling to animals. 
 
 " This imaginary antediluvian abode was 
 very different from what we see it at present. 
 The earth was light and rich ; and formed of 
 a substance entirely adapted to the feeble 
 state of incipient vegetation ; it was an uni- 
 form plain, every where covered with ver- 
 dure ; without mountains, without seas, or 
 the smallest inequalities. It had no difference 
 of seasons, for its equator was in the plane of 
 the ecliptic, or,in other words, it turned d : .rect- 
 
 b Senec. Qua;st. lib. vi. cap. 21 
 D 
 
8 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 ly opposite to the sun, so that it enjoyed one 
 perpetual and luxuriant spring. However, this 
 delightful face of nature did not long continue 
 in the same state ; for, after a time, it began 
 to crack and open in fissures; a circumstance 
 which always succeeds when the sun exhales 
 the moisture from rich or marshy situations. 
 The crimes of mankind had been for some 
 time preparing to draw down the wrath of 
 Heaven; and they, at length, induced the 
 Deity to defer repairing these breaches in na- 
 ture. Thus the chasms of the earth every 
 day became wider, and, at length, they pene- 
 trated to the great abyss of waters ; and the 
 whole earth, in a manner, fell in. Then en- 
 sued a total disorder in the uniform beauty 
 of the first creation, the terrene surface of the 
 globe being broken down: as it sunk the wa- 
 ters gushed out in its place ; the deluge be- 
 came universal; all mankind, except eight 
 persons, were destroyed, and their posterity 
 condemned to toil upon the ruins of desolated 
 nature." 
 
 It only remains to mention the manner in 
 which he relieves the earth from this univer- 
 sal wreck, which would seem to be as difficult 
 as even its first formation: "These great mas- 
 ses of earth falling into the abj'ss, drew down 
 with them vast quantities also of air ; and, by 
 dashing against each other, and breaking into 
 small parts by the repeated violence of the 
 shock, they, at length, left between them large 
 cavities, filled with nothing but air. These 
 cavities naturally offered a bed to receive 
 the influent waters; and in proportion as they 
 filled, the face of the earth became once more 
 visible. The higher parts of its broken sur- 
 face, now become the tops of mountains, were 
 the first that appeared ; the plains soon after 
 came forward, and, at length, the whole globe 
 was delivered from the waters, except the pla- 
 ces in the lowest situations ; so that the ocean 
 and the seas are still a part of the ancient 
 abyss, that have not had a place to return. 
 Islands and rocks are fragments of the earth's 
 former crust ; kingdoms and continents are 
 larger masses of its broken substance; and all 
 the^ inequalities that are to be found on the 
 surface of the present earth, are owing to the 
 accidental confusion into which both earth 
 and waters were then thrown.'' 
 
 The next theorist was Woodward, who, in 
 
 his Essay towards a Natural History of the 
 Earth, which was only designed to precede a 
 greater work, has endeavoured to give a more 
 rational account of its appearances ; and was, 
 in fact, much better furnished for such an un- 
 dertaking than any of his predecessors, being 
 one of the most assiduous naturalists of his 
 time. His little book, therefore, contains many 
 important facts, relative to natural history, 
 although his system may be weak and ground- 
 less. 
 
 He begins by asserting that all terrene sub- 
 stances are disposed in beds of various na- 
 tures, lying horizontally one over the other, 
 somewhat like the coats of an onion ; that 
 they are replete with shells, and other produc- 
 tions of the sea ; these shells being found in 
 the deepest cavities, and on the tops of the 
 highest mountains. From these observations, 
 which are warranted by experience, he pro- 
 ceeds to observe, that these shells and extra- 
 neous fossils are not productions of the earth, 
 but are all actual remains of those animals 
 which they are known to resemble ; that all 
 the beds of the earth lie under each other, in 
 the order of their specific gravity ; and that 
 they are disposed as if they had been left there 
 by subsiding waters. All these assertions he 
 affirms with much earnestness, although daily 
 experience contradicts him in some of them; 
 particularly we find layers of stone often over 
 the lightest soils, and the softest earth under 
 the hardest bodies. However, having taken 
 it for granted, that all the layers of the earth 
 are found in the order of their specific gravi- 
 ty, the lightest at the top, and the heaviest 
 next the centre, he consequently asserts, and 
 it will not improbably follow, that all the sub- 
 stances of which the earth is composed were 
 once in an actual state of dissolution. This 
 universal dissolution he takes to have hap- 
 pened at the time of the flood. He supposes, 
 that at that time a body of water, which was 
 then in the centre of the earth, uniting with 
 that which was found on the surface, so far 
 separated the terrene parts as to mix all to- 
 gether in one fluid mass; the contents of 
 which afterwards sinking according to their 
 respective gravities, produced the present ap- 
 pearances of the earth. Being aware, how- 
 ever, of an objection, that fossil substances are 
 not found dissolved, he exempts ihein from 
 
THE EARTH 
 
 this universal dissolution, and, for that pur- 
 pose, endeavours to show that the parts of 
 animals have a stronger cohesion than those 
 o( minerals ; and that, while even the hardest 
 rocks may be dissolved, bones and shells 
 may still continue entire. 
 
 So much for Woodward: but of all the sys- 
 tems which were published respecting the 
 earth's formation, that of Whiston was most 
 applauded, and most opposed. Nor need we 
 wonder: for being supported with all the pa- 
 rade of deep calculation, it awed the igno- 
 rant, 'and produced the approbation of such 
 as would be thought otherwise ; as it implied 
 a knowledge of abstruse learning, to be even 
 thought capable of comprehending what the 
 writer aimed at. In fact, it is not easy to 
 divest this theory of its mathematical garb : 
 but those who have had leisure, have found 
 the result of our philosopher's reasoning to be 
 thus: He supposes the earth to have been ori- 
 ginally a comet; and he considers the history 
 of the creation, as given us in scripture, to have 
 its commencement just when it was, by the 
 hand of the Creator, more regularly placed as 
 a planet in our solar system. Before that time 
 he supposes it to have been a globe without 
 beauty or proportion ; a world in disorder ; 
 subject to all the vicissitudes which comets 
 endure ; some of which have been found, at 
 different times, a thousand times hotter than 
 melted iron; at others, a thousand times 
 colder than ice. These alterations of heat and 
 cold, continually melting and freezing the 
 surface of the earth, he supposes to have pro- 
 duced, to a certain depth, a chaos entirely 
 resembling that described by the poets, sur- 
 rounding the solid contents of the earth, which 
 still continued unchanged in the midst, making 
 a great burning globe of more than two thou- 
 sand leagues in diameter. This surrounding 
 chaos, however, was far from being solid : he 
 resembles it to a dense though fluid atmos- 
 phere, composed of substances mingled, agi- 
 tated, and shocked against each other; and 
 in this disorder he describes the earth to have 
 been just at the eve of creation. 
 
 But upon its orbit being then changed, when 
 it was more regularly wheeled round the sun, 
 every thing took its proper place ; every part 
 of the surrounding fluid then fell into a situa- 
 tion, in proportion as it was light or heavy. 
 
 The middle, or central part, which always re- 
 mained unchanged, still continued so, retain- 
 ing a part of that heat which it received in its 
 primeval approaches towards the sun ; which 
 neat, he calculates, may continue for about 
 six thousand years. Next to this fell the hea- 
 vier parts of the chaotic atmosphere, which 
 serve to sustain the lighter: but as in descend- 
 ing they could not entirely be separated from 
 many watery parts, with which they were 
 intimately mixed, they drew down a part of 
 these also with them; and these could not 
 mount again after the surface of the earth was 
 consolidated : they, therefore, surrounded the 
 heavy first-descending parts in the same man- 
 ner as these surround the central globe. Thus 
 the entire body of the earth is composed in- 
 ternally of a great burning globe : next which 
 is placed a heavy terrene substance, that 
 encompasses it ; round which also is circum- 
 fused a body of water. Upon this body of water, 
 the crust of earth, which we inhabit, is placed: 
 so that, according to him, the globe is compo- 
 sed of a number of coats, or shells, one within 
 the other, all of different densities. The body 
 of the earth being thus formed, the air, which 
 is the lightest substance of all, surrounded its 
 surface ; and the beams of the sun, darting 
 through, produced that light which, we are 
 told, hrst obeyed the Creator's command. 
 
 The whole economy of the creation being 
 thus adjusted, it only remained to account for 
 the risings and depressions on the surface of 
 the earth, with the other seeming irregulari- 
 ties of its present appearance. The hills and 
 valleys are considered by him as formed by 
 their pressing upon the internal fluid, which 
 sustains the outward shell of earth, with great- 
 er or less weight : those parts of the earth 
 which are heaviest sink into the subjacent 
 fluid more deeply, and become valleys; those 
 that are lightest, rise higher upon the earth's 
 surface, and are called mountains. 
 
 Such was the face of nature before the de- 
 luge : the earth was then more fertile and po- 
 pulous than it is at present ; the life of man 
 and animals was extended to ten times its pre- 
 sent duration; and all these advantages arose 
 from the superior heat of the central globe, 
 which ever since has been cooling. As its 
 heat was then in full power, the genial prin- 
 ciple was also much greater than at present ; 
 
10 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 vegetation and animal increase were carried 
 on with more vigour ; and all nature seemed 
 teeming with the seeds of life. But these phy- 
 sical advantages were only productive of mo- 
 ral evil; the warmth which invigorated the 
 body increased the passions and appetites of 
 the mind ; and, as man became more power- 
 ful, he grew less innocent. It was found 
 necessary to punish this depravity ; and all 
 living creatures were overwhelmed by the 
 deluge in universal destruction. 
 
 This deluge, which simple believers are 
 willing to ascribe to a miracle, philosophers 
 have long been desirous to account for by na- 
 tural causes ; they have proved that the earth 
 could never supply from any reservoir towards 
 its centre, nor the atmosphere by any dis- 
 charge from above, such a quantity of water 
 as would cover the surface of the globe to a 
 certain depth over the tops of our highest 
 mountains. Where, therefore, was all this wa- 
 ter to be found ? Whiston has found enough, 
 and more than a sufficiency, in the tail of a 
 comet ; for he seems to allot comets a very 
 active part in the great operations of nature. 
 
 He calculates, with great seeming preci- 
 sion, the year, the month, and the day of the 
 week, on which this comet (which has paid 
 the earth some visits since, though at a kind- 
 er distance) involved our globe in its tail. 
 The tail he supposed to be a vaporous fluid 
 substance, exhaled from the body of the comet 
 by the extreme heat of the sun, and increasing 
 in proportion at it approached that great lu- 
 minary. It was in this that our globe was in- 
 volved at the time of the deluge ; and, as the 
 earth still acted by its natural attraction, it 
 drew to itself all the watery vapours which 
 were in the comet's tail; and the internal wa- 
 ters being also at the same time let loose, in 
 a very short space the tops of the highest 
 mountains were laid under the deep. 
 
 The punishment of the deluge being thus 
 completed, and all the guilty destroyed, the 
 earth, which had been broken by the eruption 
 of the internal waters, was also enlarged by 
 it ; so that, upon the comet's recess, there was 
 found room sufficient in the internal abyss for 
 the recess of the superfluous waters ; whither 
 they all retired, and left the earth uncovered, 
 but in some respects changed, particularly in 
 its figure, which, from being round, was now 
 
 become oblate. In this universal wreck of na- 
 ture, Noah survived, by a variety of happy 
 causes, to re-people the earth, and to give 
 birth to a race of men slow in believing ill- 
 imagined theories of the earth. 
 
 After so many theories of th-i earth which 
 have been published, applauded, answered, 
 and forgotten, Mr. Buffbn ventured to add one 
 more to the number. This philosopher was, 
 in every respect, better qualified than any of 
 his predecessors for such an attempt, being 
 furnished with more materials, having abright- 
 er imagination to find new proofs, and a=better 
 style to clothe them in. However, if one so 
 ill qualified as I am may judge, this seems the 
 weakest part of his admirable work ; and I 
 could wish that he had been content with 
 giving us facts instead of systems; that, in- 
 stead of being a reasoner, he had contented 
 himself with being merely an historian 
 
 He begins his system by making a distinc- 
 tion between the first part of it and the last ; 
 the one being founded only on conjecture, the 
 other depending entirely upon actual obser- 
 vation. The latter part of his theory may, 
 therefore, be true, though the former should 
 be found erroneous. 
 
 " The planets," says he, " and the earth 
 among the number, might have been formerly 
 (he only offers this as conjecture) a part of 
 the body of the sun, and adherent to its sub- 
 stance. In this situation, a comet falling in 
 upon that great body, might have given it 
 such a shock, and so shaken its whole frame, 
 that some of its particles might have been 
 driven off like streaming sparkles from red- 
 hot iron ; and each of these streams of fire, 
 small as they were in comparison of the sun, 
 might have been large enough to have made 
 an earth as great, nay, many times greater, 
 than ours. So that in this manner the planets, 
 together with the globe which we inhabit, 
 might have been driven off from the body of 
 the sun by an impulsive force : in this man- 
 ner also they would continue to recede from 
 it for ever, were they not drawn back by its 
 superior power of attraction ; and thus, by the 
 combination of the two motions, they are 
 wheeled round in circles. 
 
 " Being in this manner detached at a dis- 
 tance from the body of the sun, the planets, 
 from having been at first globes of liquid fire, 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 gradually became cool. The earth also, hav- 
 ing been impelled obliquely forward, received 
 a rotatory motion upon its axis at the very in- 
 stant of its formation ; and this motion being 
 greatest at the equator, the parts there acting 
 against the force of gravity, they must have 
 swollen out, and given the earth an oblate or 
 flatted figure. 
 
 " As to its internal substance, our globe, 
 having once belonged to the sun, it continues 
 to be an uniform mass of melted matter, very 
 probably vitrified in its primeval fusion. But 
 its surface is very differently composed. Hav- 
 ing been in the beginning heated to a degree 
 equal to, if not greater, than what comets are 
 found to sustain ; like them it had an atmos- 
 phere of vapours floating round it, and which, 
 cooling by degrees, condensed and subsided 
 upon its surface. These vapours formed, ac- 
 cording to their different densities, the earth, 
 the water, and the air ; the heavier parts fall- 
 ing first, and the lighter remaining still sus- 
 pended." 
 
 Thus far our philosopher is, at least, as 
 much a system-maker as Whiston or Burnet ; 
 and, indeed, he fights his way with great per- 
 severance and ingenuity, through a thousand 
 objections that naturally arise. Having, at 
 last, got upon the earth, he supposes himself 
 on firmer ground, and goes forward with great- 
 er security. Turning his attention to the pre- 
 sent appearance of things upon this globe, he 
 pronounces from the view, that the whole 
 earth was at first under water. This water 
 he supposes to have been the lighter parts 
 of its former evaporation, which, while the 
 earthy particles sunk downwards by their na- 
 tural gravity, floated on the surface, and co- 
 vered it for a considerable space of time. 
 
 " The surface of the earth," says he," "must 
 have been in the beginning much less solid 
 than it is at present ; and, consequently, the 
 same causes which at this day produce but 
 very slight changes, must then, upon so com- 
 plying a substance, have had very considera- 
 ble effects. We have no reason to doubt but 
 that it was then covered with the waters of 
 the sea; and that those waters were above the 
 tops of our highest mountains: since, even in 
 such elevated situations, we find shells and 
 
 Theorie de la Terre, vol. i. p. 111. 
 
 other marine productions in very great abun- 
 dance. It appears also that the sea continued 
 for a considerable time upon the face of the 
 earth : for as these layers of shells are found 
 so very frequent at such great depths, and in 
 such prodigious quantities, it seems impossible 
 for such numbers to have been supported all 
 alive at one time; so that they must have 
 been brought there by successive depositions. 
 These shells also are found in the bodies of 
 the hardest rocks, where they could not have 
 been deposited, all at once, at the time of the 
 deluge, or at any such instant revolution ; 
 since that would be to suppose, that all the 
 rocks in which they are found, were, at that 
 instant, in a state of dissolution, which would 
 be absurd to assert. The sea, therefore, de- 
 posited them wheresoever they are now to be 
 found, and that by slow and successive de- 
 grees. 
 
 " It will appear also, that the sea covered 
 the whole earth, from the appearance of its 
 layers, which lying regularly one above the 
 other, seem all to resemble the sediment form- 
 ed at different times by the ocean. Hence, 
 by the irregular force of its waves, and its 
 currents driving the bottom into sand- 
 banks, mountains must have been gradually 
 formed within this universal covering of 
 waters; and these successively raising their 
 heads above its surface, must, in time, have 
 formed the highest ridges of mountains upon 
 land, together with continents, islands, and 
 low grounds, all in their turns. This opinion 
 will receive additional weight by considering, 
 that in those parts of the earth where the pow- 
 er of the ocean is greatest, the inequalities on 
 the surface of the earth are highest. The 
 ocean's power is greatest at the equator, 
 where its winds and tides are most constant ; 
 and, in fact, the mountains at the equator are 
 found to be higher than in any other part of the 
 world. The sea, therefore, has produced the 
 principal changes in our earth : rivers, volca- 
 noes, earthquakes, storms, and rain, having 
 made but slight alterations, and only such as 
 have affected the globe to very inconsidera- 
 ble depths." 
 
 This is but a very slight sketch of Mr. 
 
 Buffon's theory of the earth ; a theory which 
 
 he has much more powerfully supported, than 
 
 happily invented ; and it would be needless to 
 
 E 
 
12 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 take up the reader's time from the pursuit of | most compact and ponderous substances 
 
 truth in the discussion of plausibilities. In 
 fact, a thousand questions might be asked this 
 most ingenious philosopher, which he would 
 not find it easy to answer ; but such is the lot 
 of humanity, that a single Goth can in one 
 day destroy the fabric which Ctesars were em- 
 ployed an age in erecting. We might ask, 
 How mountains, which are composed of the 
 
 should be the first whose parts the sea began 
 to remove ? We might ask, How fossil-wood 
 is found deeper even than shells ? which ar- 
 gues, that trees grew upon the places he sup- 
 poses once to have been covered with the ocean. 
 But we hope this excellent man is better em- 
 ployed than to think of gratifying the petulance 
 of incredulity, by answering endless objections. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 OF FOSSIL-SHELLS, AND OTHER EXTRANEOUS FOSSILS. 
 
 WE may affirm of Mr. Buffon, that which 
 has been said of the chymists of old ; though 
 he may have failed in attaining his principal 
 aim, of establishing a theory, yet he has 
 brought together such a multitude of facts 
 relative to the history of the earth, and the 
 nature of its fossil productions, that curiosity 
 finds ample compensation, even while it feels 
 the want of conviction. 
 
 Before, therefore, I enter upon the descrip- 
 tion of those parts of the earth which seem 
 more naturally to fall within the subject, it 
 will not be improper to give a short history 
 of those animal productions that are found in 
 such quantities, either upon its surface, or at 
 different depths below it. They demand our 
 curiosity; and, indeed, there is nothing in na- 
 tural history that has afforded more scope for 
 doubt, conjecture, and speculation. Whatever 
 depths of the earth we examine, or at what- 
 ever distance within land we seek, we most 
 commonly find a number of fossil-shells, which 
 being compared with others from the sea, of 
 known kinds, are found to be exactly of a 
 similar shape and nature." They are found at 
 the very bottom of quarries and mines, in the 
 retired and inmost parts of the most firm and 
 solid rocks, upon the tops of even the highest 
 hills and mountains, as well as in the valleys 
 and plains ; and this not in one country alone, 
 but in all places where there is any digging 
 for marble, chalk, or any other terrestrial mat- 
 
 " Woodward's Essay towards a Natural History, p 3,6. 
 
 ters, that are so compact as to fence off the 
 external injuries of the air, and thus preserve 
 these shells from decay. 
 
 These marine substances, so commonly dif- 
 fused, and so generally to be met with, were 
 for a long time considered by philosophers as 
 productions, not of the sea, but of the earth, 
 " As we find that spars," said they, " always 
 shoot into peculiar shapes, so these seeming 
 snails, cockles, and mussel-shells, are only 
 sportive forms that nature assumes amongst 
 others of its mineral varieties: they have the 
 shape of fish, indeed, but they have always 
 been terrestrial substances.'" 1 
 
 With this plausible solution mankind were 
 for a long time content : but upon closer in- 
 quiry, they were obliged to alter their opinion. 
 It was found that these shells had in every re- 
 spect the properties of animal, and not of mi- 
 neral nature. They were found exactly of 
 the same weight with their fellow shells upon 
 shore. They answered all the chymical trials 
 in the same manner as sea-shells do. Their 
 parts, when dissolved, had the same appearr 
 ance to view, the same smell and taste. They 
 had the same effects in medicine, when in- 
 wardly administered ; and, in a word, were 
 so exactly conformable to marine bodies, 
 that they had all the accidental concretions 
 growing to them, (such as pearls, corals, and 
 smaller shells,) which are found in shells just 
 gathered on the shore. They were, there- 
 
 b Lowthorp's Abridgment, Phil. Trans, vol. ii. p. 426. 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 13 
 
 fore, from these considerations, given back 
 to the sea; but the wonder was, how to ac- 
 count for their coining so far from their own 
 natural element upon land." 
 
 As this naturally gave rise to many conjec- 
 tures, it is not to be wondered that some 
 among them have been very extraordinary. 
 An Italian, quoted by Mr. Buffbn, supposes 
 them to have been deposited in the earth at 
 the time of the crusades, by the pilgrims who 
 returned from Jerusalem; who gathering them 
 upon the sea-shore, in their return carried 
 them to their different places of habitation. 
 But this conji-cturer seems to have but a very 
 inadequate idea of their numbers. At Tou- 
 raine, in France, more than a hundred miles 
 from the sea, there is a plain of about nine 
 leagues long, and as many broad, whence the 
 peasants of the country supply themselves 
 with marl for manuring their lands. They 
 seldom dig deeper than twenty feet ; and the 
 whole plain is composed of the same mate- 
 rials, which are shells of various kinds, with- 
 out the smallest portion of earth between 
 them. Here then is a large space, in which 
 are deposited millions of tons of shells, that 
 pilgrims could not have collected, though their 
 whole employment had been nothing else. 
 England is furnished with its beds, which, 
 though not quite so extensive, yet are equally 
 wonderful. " Near Reading, in Berkshire, for 
 many succeeding generations, a continued 
 body of oyster-shells has been found through 
 the whole circumference of five or six acres 
 of ground. The foundation of these shells is 
 a hard rocky chalk ; and above this chalk, 
 the oyster-shells lie in a bed of green sand, 
 upon a level,as nigh as can possibly be judged, 
 and about two feet thickness." b These shells 
 are in their natural state, but they were found 
 also petrified, and almost in equal abundance 8 
 in all the Alpine rocks, in the Pyrenees, on 
 the hills of France, England, and Flanders. 
 Even in all quarries from whence marble is 
 dug, if the rocks be split perpendicularly 
 downwards, petrified shells and other marine 
 substances will be plainly discerned. 
 
 " About a quarter of a mile from the river 
 Medway, in the county of Kent, after the 
 
 Woodward, p. 43. 
 
 * Phil. Trans, vol. ii. p. 427- 
 
 c Button, vol. i. p. 40". 
 
 taking off" the coping of a piece of ground 
 there, the workmen came to a blue marble, 
 which continued for three feet and a half 
 deep, or more, and then beneath appeared a 
 hard iloor, or pavement, composed of petrified 
 shells crowded closely together. This layer 
 was about an inch deep, and several yards 
 over; and it could be walked upon as upon a 
 beach. These stones, of which it was com- 
 posed, (the describer supposes them to have 
 always been stones,) were either wreathed 
 as snails, or bivalvular like cockles. The 
 wreathed kinds were about the size of a 
 hazel-nut, and were filled with a stony sub- 
 stance of the colour of marl ; and they them- 
 selves, also, till they were washed, were of 
 the same colour; but when cleaned, they ap- 
 peared of the colour of bezoar, and of the 
 same polish. After boiling in w ater they be- 
 came whitish, and left a chalkiness upon the 
 fingers."" 
 
 In several parts of Asia and Africa, travel- 
 lers have observed these shells in great abun- 
 dance. In the mountains of Castravan, which 
 lie above the city Barut, they quarry out a 
 white stone, every part of which contains pe- 
 trified fishes in great numbers, and of sur- 
 prising diversity. They also seem to continue 
 in such preservation, that their fins, scales, 
 and all the minutest distinctions of their make, 
 can be perfectly discerned." 
 
 From all these instances we may conclude, 
 that fossils are very numerous ; and, indeed, 
 independent of their situation, they afford no 
 small entertainment to observe them as pre- 
 served in the cabinets of the curious. The 
 varieties of their kinds are astonishing. Most 
 of the sea-shells which are known, and many 
 others to which we are entirely strangers, are 
 to be seen either in their natural state, or in 
 various degrees of petrifaction/ In the place 
 of some we have mere spar, or stone, exactly 
 expressing all the lineaments of animals, as 
 having been wholly formed from them. For 
 it has happened, that the shells dissolving by 
 very slow degrees, and the matter having 
 nicely and exactly filled all the cavities within, 
 this matter, after the shells have perished, has 
 preserved exactly and regularly the whole 
 
 rt Phil. Trans, p. 426. 
 e Buflbn, vol. i. p. 408. 
 
 Hill, p. 646. 
 
14 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 print of their internal surface. Of these there 
 are various kinds found in our pits; many of 
 them resembling those of our own shores; and 
 many others that are only to be found on the 
 coasts of other countries. There are some 
 shells resembling those that are never strand- 
 ed upon otir coasts;" but always remain in 
 the deep: b and many more there are which 
 we can assimulate with no shells that are 
 known amongst us. But we find not only 
 shells in our pits, but also fishes and corals 
 in great abundance; together with almost 
 every sort of marine production. 
 
 It is extraordinary enough, however, that 
 the common red coral, though so very fre- 
 quent at sea, is scarcely seen in the fossil 
 world; nor is there any account of its having 
 ever been met with. But to compensate for 
 this, there are all the kinds of the white coral 
 now known, and many other kinds of that 
 substance with which we are unacquainted. 
 Of animals there are various parts : the ver- 
 tebrae of whales, and the mouths of lesser 
 fishes; these, with teeth also of various kinds, 
 are found in the cabinets of the curious; 
 where they receive long Greek names, which 
 it is neither the intention nor the province of 
 this work to enumerate. Indeed, few readers 
 would think themselves much improved, 
 should I proceed with enumerating the va- 
 rious classes of the Conicthyodontes, Poly- 
 leptoginglimi, or the Orthoceratites. These 
 names, which mean no great matter when 
 they are explained, may serve to guide in the 
 furnishing a cabinet; but they are of very 
 little service in furnishing the page of instruc- 
 tive history. 
 
 From all these instances we see in what 
 abundance petrifactions are to be found; and, 
 indeed, Mr. Buffbn, to whose accounts we 
 have added some, has not been sparing in the 
 variety of his quotations, concerning the 
 places where they are mostly to be found. 
 However, I am surprised that he should have 
 omitted the mention of one, which, in some 
 measure, more than any of the rest, would 
 have served to strengthen his theory. We are 
 informed, by almost every traveller' that has 
 described the pyramids of Egypt, that one of 
 them is entirely built of a kind of free-stone, 
 
 * Littorales. 
 
 b Pelagii. 
 
 in which these petrified shells are found in 
 great abundance. This being the case, it 
 may be conjectured, as we have accounts of 
 these pyramids among the earliest records of 
 mankind, and of their being built so long 
 before the age of Herodotus, who lived but 
 fifteen hundred years after the flood, that even 
 the Egyptian priests could tell neither the 
 time nor the cause of their erection ; I say, it 
 may be conjectured that they were erected 
 but a short time after the flood. It is not very 
 likely, therefore, that the marine substances 
 found in one of them, had time to be formed 
 into a part of the solid stone, either during 
 the deluge, or immediately after it ; and, con- 
 sequently, their petrifaction must have been 
 before that period. And this is the opinion 
 Mr. Buffbn has so strenuously endeavoured to 
 maintain; having given specious reasons to 
 prove, that such shells were laid in the beds 
 where they are now found, not only before 
 the deluge, but even antecedent to the for- 
 mation oi' man, at the time when the whole 
 earth, as he supposes, was buried beneath a 
 covering of waters. 
 
 But while there are many reasons to per- 
 suade us that these extraneous fossils have 
 been deposited by the sea, there is one fact 
 that will abundantly serve to convince us, 
 that the earth was habitable, if not inhabited, 
 before these marine substances came to be 
 thus deposited. For we find fossil-trees, 
 which no doubt once grew upon the earth, 
 as deep, and as much in the body of solid 
 rocks, as these sheila are found to be. Some 
 of these fallen trees also have lain at least as 
 long, if not longer, in the earth, than the 
 shells, as they have been found sunk deep in 
 a marly substance, composed of decayed 
 shells, and other marine productions. Mr. 
 Buffbn has proved, that fossil-shells could not 
 have been deposited in such quantities all at 
 once by the flood; and I think, from the above 
 instance, it is pretty plain, that, howsoever 
 they were deposited, the earth was covered 
 with trees before their deposition ; and, con- 
 sequently, that the sea could not have made 
 a very permanent stay. How then shall we 
 account for these extraordinary appearances 
 in nature? A suspension of all assent is 
 
 c Hasselquist, Sandys. 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 15 
 
 certainly the first, although the most morti- 
 fying conduct. For my own part, were I to 
 offer a conjecture, (and all that has been said 
 upon this subject is but conjecture,) instead 
 of supposing them to be the remains of ani- 
 mals belonging to the sea, I would consider 
 them rather as bred in the numerous fresh- 
 water lakes, that in primeval times covered 
 the face of uncultivated nature. Some of 
 these shells we know to belong to fresh wa- 
 ters; some can be assimilated to none of the 
 marine shells now known ;" why, therefore, 
 may we not as well ascribe the production of 
 all to fresh waters, where we do not find 
 
 them, as we do that of the latter to the sea 
 only, where we never find them ? 
 
 We know that lakes, and lands also, have 
 produced animals that are now no longer ex- 
 isting ; why, therefore, might not these fossil 
 productions be among the number? I grant 
 that this is making a very harsh supposition ; 
 but I cannot avoid thinking, that it is not at- 
 tended with so many embarrassments as 
 some of the former, and that it is much 
 easier to believe that these shells were bred 
 in fresh water, than that the sea had for a 
 long time covered the tops of the highest 
 mountains. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 OF THE INTERNAL STRUCTURE OF THE EARTH. 
 
 HAVING, in some measure, got free from 
 the regions of conjecture, let us now proceed 
 to a description of the earth as we find it by 
 examination, and observe its internal compo- 
 sition, as far as it has been the subject of ex- 
 perience, or exposed to human inquiry. These 
 inquiries, indeed, have been carried but to a 
 very little depth below its surface, and even 
 in that disquisition men have been conducted 
 more by motives of avarice than of curiosity. 
 The deepest mine, which is that at Cotteberg 
 in Hungary, b reaches not more than three 
 thousand feet deep; but what proportion does 
 that bear to the depth of the terrestrial globe, 
 down to the centre, which is above four thou- 
 sand miles? All, therefore, that has been 
 said of the earth, to a deeper degree, is 
 merely fabulous or conjectural : we may sup- 
 pose with one, that it is a globe of glass ; c 
 with another, a sphere of heated iron; d with a 
 third, a great mass of waters ; e and with a 
 fourth, one dreadful volcano : f but let us at 
 the same time show our conciousness, that 
 all these are but suppositions. 
 
 Upon examining the earth, where it has 
 been opened to any depth, the first thing that 
 
 Hill's FossUs, p. 41. b Boyle, vol. iii. p. 240. 
 
 <= Buffon. Whiston. 
 
 occurs, is the different layers or beds of which 
 it is composed ; these all lying horizontally 
 one over the other, like the leaves of a book, 
 and each of them composed of materials that 
 increase in weight in proportion as they lie 
 deeper. This is, in general, the disposition 
 of the different materials, where the earth 
 seems to have remained unmolested ; but this 
 order is frequently inverted ; and we cannot 
 tell whether from its original formation, or 
 from accidental causes. Of different sub- 
 stances, thus disposed, the far greatest part 
 of our globe consists, from its surface down- 
 wards to the greatest depths we ever dig or 
 mine. 6 
 
 The first layer, most commonly found at 
 the surface, is that light coat of blackish 
 mould, which is called by some garden earth. 
 With this the earth is every where invested, 
 unless it be washed off by rains, or removed 
 by some other external violence. This seems 
 to have been formed from animal and vege- 
 table bodies decaying, and thus turning into 
 its substance. It also serves again as a store- 
 house, from whence animal and vegetable 
 nature are renewed ; and thus are all vital 
 
 e Burnet. f Kircher 
 
 e Woodward, p. 9 
 
A HISTORY OF 
 
 blessings continued with unceasing circula- 
 tion. This earth, however, is not to be sup- 
 posed entirely pure, but is mixed with much 
 stony and gravelly matter, from the layers 
 lying immediately beneath it. It generally 
 happens, that the soil is fertile in proportion 
 to the quantity that this putrefied mould bears 
 to the gravelly mixture ; and as the former 
 predominates, so far is the vegetation upon it 
 more luxuriant. It is this external covering 
 that supplies man with all the true riches he 
 enjoys. He may bring up gold and jewels 
 from greater depths ; but they are merely the 
 toys of a capricious being, things upon which 
 he has placed an imaginary value, and for 
 which fools alone part with the more substan- 
 tial blessings of life. " It is this earth," says 
 Pliny ," "that, like a kind mother, receives us 
 at our birth, and sustains us when born." It 
 is this alone, of all the elements around us, 
 that is never found an enemy to man. The 
 body of waters deluge him with rains, oppress 
 him with hail, and drown him with inunda- 
 tions. The air rushes in storms, prepares the 
 tempest, or lights up the volcano ; but the 
 earth,- gentle and indulgent, ever subservient 
 to the wants of man, spreads his walks with 
 flowers, and his table with plenty; returns 
 with interest every good committed to her 
 care ; and though she produces the poison, 
 she still supplies the antidote ; though con- 
 stantly teased more to furnish the luxuries of 
 man than his necessities, yet, even to the last, 
 she continues her kind indulgence, and, when 
 life is over, she piously covers his remains in 
 her bosom. 
 
 This external and fruitful layer which co- 
 vers the earth, is, as was said, in a state of 
 continual change. Vegetables, which are 
 naturally fixed and rooted to the same place, 
 receive their adventitious nourishment from 
 the surrounding earth and water; animals, 
 which change from place to place, are sup- 
 ported by these, or by each other. Both, 
 however, having for a time enjoyed a life 
 adapted to their nature, give back to the 
 earth those spoils, which they had borrowed 
 for a very short space, yet still to be quick- 
 ened again into fresh existence. But the de- 
 posits they make are of very dissimilar kinds, 
 
 * Plinii Historia Naturalis, lib. ii. cap. 63. 
 
 and the earth is very differently enriched by 
 their continuance; those countries, that have 
 for a long time supported men and other ani- 
 mals, having been observed to become every 
 day more barren ; while, on the contrary, 
 those desolate places, in which vegetables 
 only are abundantly produced, are known to 
 be possessed of amazing fertility. "In regions 
 which are uninhabited," 1 " says Mr. Buffbn, 
 " where the forests arc not cut down, and 
 where animals do not feed upon the plants, 
 the bed of vegetable earth is constantly in- 
 creasing. In all woods, and even in those 
 Avhich are often cut, there is a layer of earth, 
 of six or eight inches thick, which has been 
 formed by the leaves, branches, and bark, 
 which fall and rot upon the ground. I have 
 frequently observed on a Roman way, which 
 crosses Burgundy for a long extent, that there 
 is a bed of black earth, of more than a toot 
 thick, gathered over the stony pavement, on 
 which several trees, of a very considerable 
 size, are supported. This I have found to be 
 nothing else than an earth formed by decayed 
 leaves and branches, which have been con- 
 verted by time into a black soil. Now, as 
 vegetables draw much more of their nourish- 
 ment from the air and water than they do 
 from the earth, it must follow, that in rotting 
 upon the ground, they must give more to the 
 soil than they have taken from it. Hence, 
 therefore, in woods kept a long time without 
 cutting, the soil below increases to a con- 
 siderable depth ; and such we actually find 
 the soil in those American wilds, where the 
 forests have been undisturbed for ages. But 
 it is otherwise where men and animals have 
 long subsisted : for as they make a conside- 
 rable consumption of wood and plants, both 
 for firing and other uses, they take more from 
 the earth than they return to it ; it follows, 
 therefore, that the bed of vegetable earth, in 
 an inhabited country,must be always diminish- 
 ing; and must at length resemble the eoil of 
 Arabia Petrea, and other provinces of the 
 East, which having been long inhabited, 
 are now become plains of salt and sand ; the 
 fixed salt always remaining, while the other 
 volatile parts have flown away." 
 
 If from this external surface we descend 
 
 b Buifon, vol. i. p. 353. 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 17 
 
 deeper, and view the earth cut perpendicu- 
 larly downwards, either in the banks of great 
 rivers, or sleepy sea-shores, or, going still 
 deeper, if we observe it in quarries or mines, 
 we shill find its layers regularly disposed in 
 their proper order. We must not expect, 
 however, to find them of the same kind or 
 thickness in every place, as they diiler in dif- 
 ferent soils and situations. Sometimes marl 
 is seen to be over sand, and sometimes under 
 it. The most common disposition is, that 
 under the first earth is found gravel or sand, 
 then clay or marl, then chalk or coal, marbles, 
 ores, sands, gravels; and thus an alternation 
 of these substances, each growing more dense 
 as it sinks deeper. The clay, for instance, 
 found at the depth of a hundred feet, is usually 
 more heavy than that found not far from the 
 surface. In a well which was dug at Amster- 
 dam, to the depth of two hundred and thirty 
 feet, the following substances were found in 
 succession:" seven feet of vegetable earth, 
 nine of turf, nine of soft clay, eight of sand, 
 four of earth, ten of clay, four of earth, 
 ten of sand, two of clay, four of white sand, 
 one of soft earth, fourteen of sand, eight 
 of clay mixed with sand, four of sea-sand 
 mixed with shells, then a hundred and 
 two feet of soft clay, and then thirty-one feet 
 of sand. 
 
 In a well dug at Marly, to the depth of a 
 hundred feet, Mr. BufFon gives us a still more 
 exact enumeration of its layers of earth. 
 " Thirteen of a reddish gravel, two of gravel 
 mingled with a vitrifiable sand, three of mud 
 or slime, two of marl, four of marly stone, 
 five of marl in dust mixed with vitrifiable sand, 
 six of very fine vitrifiable sand, three of earthy 
 marl, three of hard marl, one of gravel, one of 
 eglantine, a stone of the hardness and grain of 
 marble, one of gravelly marl, one of stony 
 marl, one of a coarser kind of stony marl, two 
 of a coarser kind still, one of vitrifiable sand 
 mixed with fossil-shells, two of fine gravel, 
 three of stony marl, one of coarse powdered 
 marl, one of stone calcinable like marble, 
 three of gray sand, two of white sand, one of 
 red sand streaked with white, eight of gray 
 sand with shells, three of very fine sand, three 
 of a hard gray stone, four of red sand streaked 
 
 Varenius, as quoted by Mr. Buffon, p. 
 
 with white, three of white sand, and fifteen of 
 reddish vitrifiable sand. 
 
 In this manner the earth is every where 
 found in beds over beds; and, what is still re 
 markable, each of them, as far as it extends 
 always maintains exactly the same thickness 
 It is found also, that as we proceed to con- 
 siderable depths, every layer grows thicker. 
 Thus in the adduced instances we might have 
 observed, that the last layer was fifteen feet 
 thick, while most of the others were not above 
 eight ; and this might have gone much deeper, 
 for aught we can tell, as before they got 
 through it the workmen ceased digging 
 
 These layers are sometimes very extensive, 
 and often arc found to spread over a space of 
 some leagues in circumference. But it must not 
 be supposed that they are uniformly continued 
 over the whole globe without any interruption: 
 on the contrary, they are ever, at small intervals, 
 cracked through as it were by perpendicular 
 fissures ; the earth resembling, in this respect, 
 the muddy bottom of a pond, from whence the 
 water has been dried off by the sun, and thus 
 gaping in several chinks, which descend in a 
 direction perpendicular to its surface. These 
 fissures are many times found empty, but 
 oftener closed up with adventitious sub- 
 stances, that the rain, or some other acci- 
 dental causes, have conveyed to fill their 
 cavities. Their openings are not less different 
 than their contents, some being not above half 
 an inch wide, some a foot, and some several 
 hundred yards asunder ; which last form those 
 dreadful chasms that are to be found in the 
 Alps, at the edge of which the traveller stands 
 dreading to look down at the immeasurable 
 gulf below. These amazing clefts are well 
 known to such as havepassed thesemountains, 
 where a chasm frequently presents itself se- 
 veral hundred feet deep, and as many over, 
 at the edge of which the way lies. It often 
 happens also, that the road leads along the 
 bottom, and then the spectator observes on 
 each side frightful precipices several hundred 
 yards above him; the sides of which corres- 
 pond so exactly with each other, that they 
 evidently seem torn asunder. 
 
 But these chasms, to be found in the Alps, 
 are nothing to what Ovalle tells us are to be 
 seen in the Andes. These amazing moun- 
 tains, in comparison of which the former are 
 
18 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 but little hills, have their fissures in propor- 
 tion to their greatness. In some places they 
 are a mile wide, and deep in proportion ; and 
 there are some others, that, running under 
 ground, in extent resemble a province. 
 
 Of this kind also is that cavern called El- 
 denhole, in Derbyshire, which Dr. Plott tells us 
 was sounded by a line of eight and twenty 
 hundred feet, without finding the bottom, or 
 meeting with water: and yet the mouth at the 
 top is not above forty yards over." This im- 
 measurable cavern runs perpendicularly down- 
 ward ; and the sides of it seem to tally so 
 plainly as to show that they once were united. 
 Those who come to visit the place, generally 
 procure stones to be thrown into its mouth ; 
 and these are heard for several minutes, fall- 
 ing and striking against the sides of the ca- 
 vern, producing a sound that resembles distant 
 thunder, dying away as the stone goes deeper. 
 
 Of this kind also is that dreadful cavern 
 described by ^Elian ; his account of which the 
 reader may not have met with. b "In the 
 country of the Arrian Indians, is to be seen 
 an amazing chasm, which is called, The Gulf 
 of Pluto. The depth and the recesses of this 
 horrid place are as extensive as they are un- 
 known. Neither the natives, nor the curious 
 who visit it, are able to tell how it was first 
 made, or to what depths it descends. The 
 Indians continually drive thither great multi- 
 tudes of animals, more than three thousand at 
 a time, of different kinds, sheep, horses, and 
 goats : and, with an absurd superstition, force 
 them into the cavity, from whence they never 
 return. Their several sounds, however, are 
 heard as they descend ; the bleating of sheep, 
 the lowing of oxen, and the neighing of horses, 
 issuing up to the mouth of the cavern. Nor 
 do these sounds cease, as the place is con- 
 tinually furnished with a fresh supply." 
 
 Phil. Trans, vol. ii. p. 370 
 
 There are many more of these dreadful 
 perpendicular fissures in different parts oi 
 the earth ; with accounts of which Kircher, 
 GafFarellus, and others, who have given histo- 
 ries of the wonders of the subterranean world, 
 abundantly supply us. The generality of 
 readers, however, will consider them with less 
 astonishment when they are informed of their 
 being common all over the earth; that in 
 every field, in every quarry, these perpendi- 
 cular fissures are to be found, either still 
 gaping, or filled with matter that has acci- 
 dentally closed their interstices. The inat- 
 tentive spectator neglects the inquiry, but 
 their being common is partly the cause that 
 excites the philosopher's attention to them; 
 the irregularities of nature he is often content 
 to let pass unexamined ; but when a constant 
 and a common appearance presents itself, 
 every return of the object is a fresh call to 
 his curiosity ; and the chink in the next quarry 
 becomes as great a matter of wonder as the 
 chasm in Eldenhole. Philosophers have long, 
 therefore, endeavoured to find out the cause 
 of these perpendicular fissures, which our own 
 countrymen, Woodward and Ray, were the 
 first that found to be so common and univer- 
 sal. Mr. Buffbn supposes them to be cracks 
 made by the sun, in drying up the earth, 
 immediately after its emersion from the 
 deep. 
 
 The heat of the sun is very probably a prin- 
 cipal cause ; but it is not right to ascribe to 
 one only, what we find may be the result of 
 many. Earthquakes, severe frosts, bursting 
 waters, and storms tearing up the roots of 
 trees, have, in our own times, produced them ; 
 and to this variety of causes we must, at pre- 
 sent, be content to assign those that have 
 happened before we had opportunities for 
 observation. 
 
 b yEliani Var. Hist. lib. xvi. cap. 16. 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 19 
 
 CHAPTER VH. 
 
 OF CAVES AND SUBTERRANEOUS PASSAGES THAT SINK, BUT NOT PER- 
 PENDICULARLY, INTO THE EARTH. 
 
 IN surveying the subterranean wonders of 
 the globe, besides those fissures that descend 
 perpendicularly, we frequently find others 
 that descend but a little way, and then spread 
 themselves often to a great extent below the 
 surface. Many of these caverns, it must be 
 confessed, mny be the production of art and 
 human industry; retreats made to protect the 
 oppressed, or shelter the spoiler. The fa- 
 mous labyrinth of Candia, for instance, is 
 supposed to be entirely the work of art. Mr. 
 Tournefort assures us, that it bears the im- 
 pression of human industry, and that great 
 pains have been bestowed upon its formation. 
 The stone-quarry of Maastricht is evidently 
 made by labour: carts enter at its mouth, 
 and load within, then return, and discharge 
 their freight into boats that lie on the brink 
 of the river Maese. This quarry is so large, 
 that forty thousand people may take shelter 
 in it: and it in general serves for this purpose, 
 when armies march that way ; becoming then 
 an impregnable retreat to the people that live 
 thereabout. Nothing can be more beautiful 
 than this cavern, when lighted up with 
 torches : for there are thousands of square 
 pillars, in large level walks, about twenty feet 
 high ; and all wrought with much neatness 
 and regularity. In this vast grotto there is 
 very little rubbish; which shows both the 
 goodness of the stone and the carefulness of 
 the workmen. To add to its beauty, there 
 also are, in various parts of it, little pools of 
 water, for the convenience of the men and 
 cattle. It is remarkable also, that no drop- 
 pings are seen to fall from the roof, nor are 
 the walks any way wet under foot, except 
 in cases of great rains, where the water gets 
 in by the air-shafts. The salt-mines in Poland 
 are still more spacious than these. Some of 
 the catacombs, both in Egypt and Italy, are 
 said to be very extensive. But no part of the 
 world has a greater number of artificial ca- 
 
 a Phil. Trans, vol. ii. p. 368. 
 NO. 3. 
 
 verns that Spain, which were made to serve as 
 retreats to the Christians against the fury of 
 the Moors, when the latter conquered that 
 country. However, an account of the works 
 of art does not properly belong to a natural 
 history. It will be enough to observe, that 
 though caverns be found in every country, 
 far the greatest part of them have been 
 fashioned by the hand of nature only. Their 
 size is found beyond the power of man to 
 have effected, and their forms but ill adapted 
 to the conveniences of a human habitation. 
 In some places, indeed, we find mankind still 
 make use of them as houses; particularly in 
 those countries where the climate is very se- 
 vere;" but in general they are deserted by 
 every race of meaner animals, except the 
 bat : these nocttirnal solitary creatures are 
 usually the only inhabitants ; and these only 
 in such whose descent is sloping, or, at least, 
 not directly perpendicular. 
 
 There is scarcely a country in the world 
 without its natural caverns; and many new 
 ones are discovered every day. Of those in 
 England, Oakey-hole, the Devil's-hole, and 
 Penpark-hole, have been often described. 
 The former, which lies on the south side of 
 Mendip-hills, b within a mile of the town of 
 Wells, is much resorted to by travellers. To 
 conceive a just idea of this, we must imagine 
 a precipice of more than a hundred yards 
 high, on the side of a mountain which shelves 
 away a mile above it. In this is an opening 
 not very large, into which you enter, going 
 along upon a rocky uneven pavement, some- 
 times ascending, and sometimes descending. 
 The roof of it, as you advance, grows higher; 
 and, in some places, is fifty feet from the 
 floor. In some places, however, it is so low, 
 that a man must stoop to pass. It extends 
 itself, in length, about two hundred yards: 
 and from every part of the roof and the floor, 
 there are formed sparry concretions of various 
 
 b Phil. Traus. vol. ii. p. 368. 
 G 
 
A HISTORY OF 
 
 figures, that by strong imaginations have been 
 likened to men, lions, and organs. At the 
 farthest part of this cavern rises a stream of 
 water, well stored with fish, large enough to 
 turn a mill, and which discharges itself near 
 the entrance. 
 
 Penpark-hole, in Gloucestershire, is almost 
 as remarkable as the former. Captain Sturmy 
 descended into this by a rope, twenty-five 
 fathoms perpendicular, and at the bottom 
 found a very large vault in the shape of a 
 horse-shoe. The floors consisted of a kind 
 of white stone enamelled with lead ore, and 
 the pendant rocks were glazed with spar. 
 Walking forward on this stony pavement, 
 for some time, he came to a great river, twenty 
 fathoms broad, and eight fathoms deep ; and 
 having been informed that it ebbed and 
 flowed with the sea, he remained in this 
 gloomy abode for five hours, to make an ex- 
 act observation. He did not find, however, 
 any alteration whatsoever in its appearance. 
 But his curiosity was ill requited ; for it cost 
 this unfortunate gentleman his life : imme- 
 diately after his return he was seized with an 
 unusual and violent headach, which threw 
 him into a fever, of which he died soon after. 
 
 But of all the subterranean caverns now 
 known, the grotto of Antiparos is the most 
 remarkable, as well for its extent as for the 
 beauty of its sparry incrustations. This ce- 
 lebrated cavern was first discovered by one 
 Magni, an Italian traveller, about an hundred 
 years ago, at Antiparos, an inconsiderable 
 island of the Archipelago." The account he 
 gives of it is long and inflated, but upon the 
 whole amusing. " Having been informed," 
 says he, " by the natives of Paros, that in the 
 little island of Antiparos, which lies about two 
 miles from the former, of a gigantic statue 
 that was to be seen at the mouth of a cavern 
 in that place, it was resolved that we (the 
 French consul and himself) should pay it a 
 visit. In pursuance of this resolution, after 
 we had landed on the island, and walked 
 about four miles through the midst of beau- 
 tiful plains, and sloping woodlands, we at 
 length came to a little hill, on the side of 
 
 Kircher Mund. sub. 112. I have translated a part of 
 Kircher's description, rather than Tournefort's, as the 
 latter was written to support an hypothesis. 
 
 which yawned a most horrid cavern, that with 
 its gloom at first struck us with terror, and 
 almost repressed curiosity. Recovering the 
 first surprise, however, we entered boldly ; 
 and had not proceeded above twenty paces, 
 when the supposed statue of the giant pre- 
 sented itself to our view. We quickly per- 
 ceived, that what the ignorant natives had 
 been terrified at as a giant, was nothing more 
 than a sparry concretion, formed by the water 
 dropping from the roof of the cave, and by 
 degrees hardening into a figure that their 
 fears had formed into a monster. Incited by 
 this extraordinary appearance, we were in- 
 duced to proceed still farther, in quest of 
 new adventures in this subterranean abode. 
 As we proceeded, new wonders offered them- 
 selves; the spars formed into trees and 
 shrubs presented a kind of petrified grove; 
 some white, some green ; and all receding in 
 due perspective. They struck us with the 
 more amazement, as we knew them to be mere 
 productions of Nature, who, hitherto in soli- 
 tude, had, in her playful moments, dressed 
 the scene as if for her own amusement. 
 
 " But we had as yet seen but a few of the 
 wonders of the place; and were introduced 
 only into the portico of this amazing temple. 
 In one corner of this half-illuminated recess, 
 there appeared an opening of about three 
 feet wide, which seemed to lead to a place 
 totally dark, and that, one of the natives as- 
 sured us, contained nothing more than a reser- 
 voir of water. Upon this we tried, by throwing 
 down some stones, which rumbling along the 
 sides of the descent for some time, the sound 
 seemed at last quashed in a bed of water. In 
 order, however, to be more certain, we sent 
 in a Levantine mariner, who, by the promise 
 of a good reward, with a flambeaux in his 
 hand, ventured into this narrow aperture. 
 After continuing within it for about a quarter 
 of an hour, he returned, carrying some beau- 
 tiful pieces of white spar in his hand, which 
 art could neither imitate nor equal. Upon 
 being informed by him that the place was 
 full of these beautiful incrustations,! ventured 
 in once more with him for about fifty paces, 
 anxiously and cautiously descending by a 
 steep and dangerous way. Finding, however, 
 that we came to a precipice which led into 
 a spacious amphitheatre, if I may so call it. 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 -21 
 
 still deeper than any other part, we returned, 
 and being provided with a ladder, flambeaux, 
 and other things to expedite our descent, our 
 whole company, man by man, ventured into 
 the same opening, and descending one after 
 another, we at last saw ourselves alto- 
 gether in the most magnificent part of the 
 cavern. 
 
 " Our candles being now all lighted up, and 
 the whole place completely illuminated, never 
 could the eye be presented with a more glit- 
 tering, or a more magnificent scene. The 
 roof all hung with solid icicles, transparent 
 as glass, yet solid as marble. The eye could 
 scarcely reach the lofty and noble ceiling; 
 the sides were regularly formed with spars ; 
 and the whole presented the idea of a mag- 
 nificent theatre, illuminated with an immense 
 profusion of lights. The floor consisted of 
 solid marble ; and in several places magnifi- 
 cent columns, thrones, altars, and other ob- 
 jects, appeared, as if nature had designed to 
 mock the curiosities of art. Our voices, upon 
 speaking or singing, were redoubled to an 
 astonishing loudness ; and upon the firing of 
 a gun, the noise and reverberations were 
 almost deafening. In the midst of this grand 
 amphitheatre rose a concretion of about fif- 
 teen feet high, that, in some measure, resem- 
 bled an altar; from which, taking the hint, 
 we caused mass to be celebrated there. The 
 beautiful columns that shot up round the al- 
 tar, appeared like candlesticks; and many 
 other natural objects represented the custo- 
 mary ornaments of this sacrament. 
 
 " Below even this spacious grotto there 
 seemed another cavern ; down which I ven- 
 tured with my former mariner, and descended 
 about fifty paces by means of a rope. I at 
 last arrived at a small spot of level ground, 
 where the bottom appeared different from 
 that of the amphitheatre, being composed of 
 a soft clay, yielding to the pressure, and in 
 which I thrust a stick to about six feet deep. 
 In this, however, as above, numbers of the 
 most beautiful crystals were formed, one of 
 which particularly resembled a table. Upon 
 our egress from this amazing cavern, we per- 
 
 ceived a Greek inscription upon a rock at the 
 mouth, but so obliterated by time, that we 
 could not read it. It seemed to import, that 
 one Antipater, in the time of Alexander, had 
 come thither; but whether he had penetrated 
 into the depths of the cavern, he does not 
 think fit to inform us." 
 
 Such is the account of this beautiful scene, 
 as communicated in a letter to Kircher. We 
 have another, and a more copious description 
 of it, by Tournefort, which is in every body's 
 hands ; but I have given the above, both be- 
 cause it was communicated by the first dis- 
 coverer, and because it is a simple narrative 
 of facts, without any reasoning upon them. 
 According to Tournefort's account, indeed, 
 we might conclude, from the rapid growth of 
 the spars in this grotto, that it must every 
 year be growing narrower, and that it must in 
 time be choked up with them entirely ; but 
 no such thing has happened hitherto, and the 
 grotto at this day continues as spacious as 
 we ever knew it. 
 
 This is not a place for inquiry into the 
 seeming vegetation of those stony substances, 
 with which this and almost every cavern are 
 incrusted : it is enough to observe, in gene- 
 ral, that they are formed by an accumulation 
 of that little gritty matter which is carried 
 thither by the waters, and which in time ac- 
 quires the hardness of marble. What in this 
 place more imports us to know, is, how these 
 amazing hollows in the earth came to be 
 formed. And I think, in the three instances 
 above mentioned, it is pretty evident, that 
 their excavation has been owing to water. 
 These finding subterraneous passages under 
 the earth, and by long degrees hollowing the 
 beds in which they flowed, the ground above 
 them has slipped down closer to their surface, 
 leaving the upper layers of the earth or stone 
 still suspended ; the ground that sinks upon 
 the face of the waters forming the floor of the 
 cavern ; the ground or rock, that keeps sus- 
 pended, forming the roof: and, indeed, there 
 are but few of these caverns found without 
 water, either within them, or near enough to 
 point out their formation. 
 
 
22 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 OF MINES, DAMPS, AND MINERAL VAPOURS. 
 
 THE caverns, which we have been de- 
 scribing, generally carry us but a very little 
 way below the surface of the earth. Two 
 hundred feet, at the utmost, is as much as the 
 lowest of them is found to sink. The perpen- 
 dicular fissures run much deeper; but few 
 persons have been bold enough to venture 
 down to their deepest recesses; and some 
 few who have tried, have been able to bring 
 back no tidings of the place, for unfortunately 
 they left their lives below. The excavations 
 of art have conducted us much farther into 
 the bowels of the globe. Some mines in 
 Hungary are known to be a thousand yards 
 perpendicular downwards ; and I have been 
 informed, by good authority, of a coal-mine in 
 the north of England, an hundred yards deeper 
 still. 
 
 It is beside our present purpose to inquire 
 into the peculiar contrivance and construction 
 of these, which more properly belongs to the 
 history of fossils. It will be sufficient to ob- 
 serve in this place, that as we descend into the 
 mint v s, the various layers of earth are seen as 
 we have already described them; and in some 
 of these are always found the metals or mine- 
 rals for which the mine has been dug. Thus 
 frequently gold is found dispersed and mixed 
 with clay and gravel;" sometimes it is mingled 
 with other metallic bodies, stones, or bitu- 
 mens ; h and sometimes united with that most 
 obstinate of all substances, platina, from which 
 scarce any art can separate it. Silver is 
 sometimes found quite pure ; c sometimes 
 mixed with other substances and minerals. 
 Copper is found in beds mixed with various 
 substances, marbles, sulphurs, and pyrites. 
 Tin, the ore of which is heavier than that of 
 any other metal, is generally found mixed with 
 every kind of matter : lead is also equally 
 common ; and iron we well know can be ex- 
 tracted from all the substances upon earth. 
 
 a Ulloa. vol. ii. p. 470. b Ulloa, ibid. 
 
 c Macquer's Chymistry, vol. i. p. 316. 
 
 The variety of substances which are thus 
 found in the bowels of the earth, in their 
 native state, have a very different appearance 
 from what they are afterwards taught to as- 
 sume by human industry. The richest me- 
 tals are very often less glittering and splendid 
 than the most useless marcasites; and the 
 basest ores are generally the most beautiful 
 to the eye. 
 
 This variety of substances, which compose 
 the internal parts of our globe, is productive 
 of equal varieties, both above and below its 
 surface. The combination of the different 
 minerals with each other, the heats which 
 arise from their mixture, the vapours they 
 diffuse, the fires which they generate, or the 
 colds which they sometimes produce, are all 
 either noxious or salutary to man ; so that in 
 this great elaboratory of nature, a thousand 
 benefits and calamities are forging, of which 
 we are wholly unconscious ; and it is happy 
 for us that we are so. 
 
 Upon our descent into mines of consider- 
 able depth, the cold seems to increase from 
 the mouth as we descend ; e but after passing 
 very low down, we begin by degrees to come 
 into a warmer air, which sensibly grows hot- 
 ter as we go deeper, till, at last, the labourers 
 can scarcely bear any covering as they con- 
 tinue working. 
 
 This difference in the air was supposed by 
 Boyle to proceed from magazines of fire that 
 lay nearer the centre, and that diffused their 
 heat to the adjacent regions. But we now 
 know that it may be ascribed to more obvious 
 causes. In some mines, the composition ot 
 the earth all around is of such a nature, that, 
 upon the admission of water or air, it fre- 
 quently becomes hot, and often bursts out 
 into eruptions. Besides this, as the external 
 air cannot readily reach the bottom, or be 
 renewed there, an observable heat is per- 
 
 d Hill's Fossils, p. 628. 
 e Boyle, vol. iii. p. 232. 
 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 23 
 
 ceived below, without the necessity of recur- 
 ring to the central heat for an explanation. 
 
 Hence, therefore, there are two principal 
 causes of the warmth at the bottom of mines : 
 the heat of the substances of which the sides 
 are composed ; and the want of renovation in 
 the air below. Any sulphureous substance, 
 mixed with iron, produces a very great heat, 
 by the admission of water. If, for instance, a 
 quantity of sulphur be mixed Avith a propor- 
 tionable share of iron filings, and both kneaded 
 together into a soft paste, with water, they 
 will soon grow hot, and at last produce a 
 flame. This experiment, produced by art, 
 is very commonly effected within the bowels 
 of the earth by nature. Sulphurs and irons 
 are intimately blended together, and want 
 only the mixture of water or air to excite 
 their heat ; and this, when once raised, is 
 communicated to all bodies that lie within 
 the sphere of their operation. Those beau- 
 tiful minerals called marcasites and pyrites, are 
 often of this composition ; and wherever they 
 are found, either by imbibing the moisture of 
 the air, or having been by any means com- 
 bined with water, they render the mine con- 
 siderably hot. a 
 
 The want of fresh air also, at these depths, 
 is, as we have said, another reason for their 
 being found much hotter. Indeed, without 
 the assistance of art, the bottom of most mines 
 would, from this cause, be insupportable. To 
 remedy this inconvenience, the miners are 
 often obliged to sink, at some convenient dis- 
 tance from the mouth of the pit where they 
 are at work, another pit, which joins the for- 
 mer below, and which, in Derbyshire, is called 
 an air-shaft. Through this the air circulates ; 
 and thus the workmen are enabled to breathe 
 freely at the bottom of the place ; which be- 
 comes, as Mr. Boyle affirms, very commodious 
 for respiration, and also very temperate as to 
 heat and cold. b Mr. Locke, however, who has 
 left us an account of the Mendip mines, seems 
 to present a different picture. " The descent 
 into theseisexceedinglydifficult and dangerous; 
 for they are not sunk like wells, perpendicu- 
 larly, but as the crannies of the rocks happen 
 to run. The constant method is to swing down 
 
 Kircher Mund. Subt. vol. ii. p. 216. 
 k Boyle, vol. iii. p. 238. 
 
 by a rope placed under the arms, and clam- 
 ber along by applying both feet and hands to 
 the sides of the narrow passage. The air is 
 conveyed into them through a little passage 
 that runs along the sides from the top, where 
 they set up some turfs, on the lee-side of the 
 hole, to catch and force it down. These turfs 
 being removed to the windy side, or laid over 
 the mouth of the hole, the miners below pre- 
 sently want breath, and faint; and if sweet- 
 smelling flowers chance to be placed there, 
 they immediately lose their fragrancy, and 
 stink like carrion." An air so putrefying can 
 never be very commodious for respiration. 
 
 Indeed, if we examine the complexion of 
 most miners, we shall be very well able to 
 form a judgment of the unwholesomeness of 
 the place where they are confined. Their 
 pale and sallow looks show how much the 
 air is damaged by passing through those deep 
 and winding ways, that are rendered humid 
 by damps, or warmed with noxious exhala- 
 tions. But although every mine is unwhole- 
 some, all are not equally so. Coal-mines are 
 generally less noxious than those of tin ; tin 
 than those of copper ; but none are so dread- 
 fully destructive as those of quicksilver. At 
 the mines near the village of Idra, nothing 
 can adequately describe the deplorable in- 
 firmities of such as fill the hospital there; 
 emaciated and crippled ; every limb con- 
 tracted or convulsed, and some in a manner 
 transpiring quicksilver at every pore. There 
 was one man, says Dr. Pope, c who was not in 
 the mines above half a year, and yet whose 
 body was so impregnated with this mineral, 
 that putting a piece of brass money in his 
 mouth, or rubbing it between his fingers, it 
 immediately became as white as if it had 
 been washed over with quicksilver. In this 
 manner all the workmen are killed sooner or 
 later; first becoming paralytic, and (hen 
 dying consumptive : and all this they sustain 
 for the trifling reward of seven pence a day. 
 
 But these metallic mines are not so noxious 
 from their own vapours, as from those of the 
 substances with which the ores are usually 
 united, such as arsenic, cinnabar, bitumen, or 
 vitriol. From the fumes of these, variously 
 
 c Phil. Trans, vol. ii. p. 578. 
 H 
 
24 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 combined, and kept inclosed, are produced 
 those various damps, that put on so many 
 dreadful forms, and are usually so fatal. 
 Sometimes those noxious vapours are per- 
 ceived by the delightful fragrance of their 
 smell," somewhat resembling the pea-blossom 
 in bloom, from whence one kind of damp has 
 its name. The miners are not deceived, 
 however, by its flattering appearances ; but 
 as they have thus timely notice of its coming, 
 they avoid it while it continues, which is gene- 
 rally during the whole summer season. Ano- 
 ther shows its approach by the burning of the 
 candles, which seem to collect their flame into 
 a globe of light, and thus gradually lessen, 
 till they are quite extinguished. From this, 
 also, the miners frequently escape ; however, 
 such as have the misfortune to be caught in 
 it, either swoon away, and are suffocated, or 
 slowly recover in excessive agonies. Here also 
 is a third, called the fulminating damp, much 
 more dangerous than either of the former, 
 as it strikes down all before it like a flash of 
 gunpowder, without giving any warning of its 
 approach. But there is another, more deadly 
 than all the rest, which is found in those places 
 where the vapour has been long confined, and 
 has been, by some accident, set free. The air 
 rushing out from thence, always goes upon 
 deadly errands ; and scarce any escape to 
 describe the symptoms of its operations. 
 
 Some colliers in Scotland, working near an 
 old mine that had been long closed up, hap- 
 pened, inadvertently, to open a hole into it, 
 from the pit where they were then employed. 
 By great good fortune, they at that time, per- 
 ceived their error, and instantly fled for their 
 lives. The next day, however, they were re- 
 solved to renew their work in the same pit, 
 and eight of them ventured down, without any 
 great apprehensions ; but they had scarcely 
 got to the bottom of the stairs that led to the 
 pit, but, coming within the vapour, they all 
 instantly dropped down dead, as if they had 
 been shot. Amongst these unfortunate poor 
 men, there was one whose wife was informed 
 he was stifled in the mine ; and, as he hap- 
 pened to be next the entrance, she so far 
 ventured down as to see where he lay. As 
 ehe approached the place, the sight of her 
 
 Phil. Trans, vol. ii. p. 375. 
 
 husband inspired her with a drsire to rescue 
 him, if possible, from that dreadful situation; 
 though a little reflection might have shown 
 her it was then too late. But nothing could 
 deter her; she ventured forward, and had 
 scarce touched him with her hand, when the 
 damp prevailed, and the misguided, but faith- 
 ful creature, fell dead by his side. 
 
 Thus, the vapours found beneath the sur- 
 face of the earth are very various in their ef- 
 fects upon the constitution : and they are not 
 less in their appearances. There are many 
 kinds that seemingly are no way prejudicial 
 to health, but in which the workmen breathe 
 freely; and yet in these, if a lighted candle be 
 introduced, they immediately take fire, and 
 the whole cavern at once becomes one furnace 
 of flame. In mines, therefore, subject to damps 
 of this kind, they are obliged to have recourse 
 to a very peculiar contrivance to supply suffi- 
 cient light for their operations. This is by a 
 great wheel ; the circumference of which is 
 beset with flints, which striking against steels 
 placed for that purpose at the extremity, a 
 stream of fire is produced, which affords light 
 enough, and yet which does not set fire to the 
 mineral vapour. 
 
 Of this kind are the vapours of the mines 
 about Bristol : on the contrary, in other mines, 
 a single spark struck out from the collision of 
 flint and steel, would set the whole shaft in a 
 flame. In such, therefore, every precaution 
 is used to avoid a collision; the workmen 
 making use only of wooden instruments in 
 digging ; and being cautious, before they en- 
 ter the mine, to take out even the nails from 
 their shoes. Whence this strange difference 
 should arise, that the vapours of some mines 
 catch fire with a spark, and others only with 
 a flame, is a question that we must be content 
 to leave in obscurity, till we know more of 
 the nature both of mineral vapour and of fire 
 This only we may observe, that gunpowder 
 will readily fire with a spark, but not with the 
 flame of a candle ; on the other hand, spirits 
 of wine will flame with a candle, but not with 
 a spark : but even here the cause of this dif- 
 ference as yet remains a secret. 
 
 As from this account of mines, it appears 
 that the internal parts of the globe are filled 
 with vapours of various kinds, it is not sur- 
 prising that they should, at different times, 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 25 
 
 reach the surface, and there put on various 
 appearances. In (act, much of' the salubrity, 
 and much of the unwholesomeness, of climates 
 and soils, is to be ascribed to these vapours, 
 which make their way from the bowels of the 
 earth upwards, and refresh or taint the air 
 with their exhalations. Salt mines, being na- 
 turally cold," send forth a degree of coldness 
 to the external air, to comfort and refresh it : 
 on the contrary, metallic mines are known, 
 not only to warm it with their exhalations, 
 but often to destroy all kinds of vegetation by 
 their volatile corrosive fumes. In some mines, 
 dense vapours are plainly perceived issuing 
 from their mouths, and sensibly warm to the 
 touch. In some places, neither snow nor ice 
 will continue on the ground that covers a 
 mine ; and over others the fields are found 
 destitute of verdure. b The inhabitants, also, 
 are rendered dreadfully sensible of these sub- 
 terraneous exhalations, being affected with 
 such a variety of evils proceeding entirely 
 from this cause, that books have been pro- 
 fessedly written upon this class of disorders. 
 
 Nor are these vapours, which thus escape 
 to the surface of the earth, entirely uncon- 
 fined ; for they are frequently, in a manner, 
 circumscribed to a spot. The grotto Del 
 Cane, near Naples, is an instance of this; 
 the noxious effects of which have made that 
 cavern so very famous. This grotto, which 
 has so much employed the attention of tra- 
 vellers, lies within four miles of Naples, and 
 is situated near a large lake of clear whole- 
 some water. c Nothing can exceed the beauty 
 of the landscape which this lake affords; being 
 surrounded with hills covered with forests of 
 the most beautiful verdure, and the whole 
 bearing a kind of amphitheatrical appearance. 
 However, this region, beautiful as it appears, 
 is almost entirely uninhabited ; the few pea- 
 sants that necessity compels to reside there, 
 looking quite consumptive and ghastly, from 
 the poisonous exhalations that rise from the 
 earth. The famous grotto lies on the side of 
 a hill, near which place a peasant resides, 
 who keeps a number of dogs for the purpose 
 of showing the experiment to the curious. 
 These poor animals always seem perfectly sen- 
 sible of the approach of a stranger, and endea- 
 vour to get out of the way. However, their at- 
 
 Phil. Trans. voL ii. p. 523. b Boyle, vol. iii. p. 238. 
 
 tempts being perceived, they are taken and 
 brought to the grotto ; the noxious effects of 
 which they have so frequently experienced. 
 Upon entering this place, which is a little 
 cave, or hole rather, dug into the hill, about 
 eight feet high, and twelve feet long, the ob- 
 server can see no visible mark of its pestilen- 
 tial vapour; only to about a foot from the 
 bottom, the wall seems to be tinged with a 
 colour resembling that which is given by 
 stagnant waters. When the dog, this poor 
 philosophical martyr, as some have called 
 him, is held above this mark, he does not 
 seem to feel the smallest inconvenience ; but 
 when his head is thrust down lower, he strug- 
 gles to get free for a little ; but in the space 
 of four or five minutes he seems to lose all 
 sensation, and is taken out seemingly without 
 life. Being plunged in the neighbouring lake, 
 he quickly recovers, and is permitted to 
 run home, seemingly without the smallest in- 
 jury. 
 
 This vapour, which thus for a time suffo- 
 cates, is of the humid kind, as it extinguishes 
 a torch, and sullies a looking-glass ; but there 
 are other vapours perfectly inflammable, and 
 that only require the approach of a candle to 
 set them blazing. Of this kind was the burn- 
 ing well at Brosely, which is now stopped up ; 
 the vapour of which, when a candle was 
 brought within about a foot of the surface of 
 the water, caught flame like spirits of wine, 
 and continued blazing for several hours after. 
 Of this kind, also, are the perpetual fires in 
 the kingdom of Persia. In that province, 
 where the worshippers of fire hold their chief 
 mysteries, the whole surface of the earth, 
 for some extent, seems impregnated with in- 
 flammable vapours. A reed stuck into the 
 ground continues to burn like a flambeau; a 
 hole made beneath the surface of the earth, 
 instantly becomes a furnace, answering all 
 the purposes of a culinary fire. There they 
 make lime by merely burying the stones in 
 the earth; and watch with veneration the 
 appearances of a flame that has not been ex- 
 tinguished for times immemorial. How dif- 
 ferent are men in various climates ! This de- 
 luded people worship these vapours as a 
 deity, which in other parts of the world are 
 considered as one of the greatest evils. 
 
 c Kircher, Mund. Subt. vol. i. p. 191. 
 
26 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 OF VOLCANOES AND EARTHQUAKES. 
 
 MINES and caverns, as we have said, 
 reach but a very little way under the surface 
 of the earth, and we have hitherto had no 
 opportunities of exploring further. Without 
 all doubt, the wonders that are still unknown 
 surpass those that have been represented, as 
 there are depths of thousands of miles which 
 are hidden from our inquiry. The only 
 tidings we have from those unfathomable re- 
 gions are by means of volcanoes, those burn- 
 ing mountains that seem to discharge their 
 materials from the lowest abysses of the 
 earth. a A volcano may be considered as a 
 cannon of immense size, the mouth of which 
 is often near two miles in circumference. From 
 this dreadful aperture are discharged torrents 
 of dame and sulphur, and rivers of melted 
 metal. Whole clouds of smoke and ashes, 
 with rocks of enormous size, are discharged 
 to many miles distance; so that the force of 
 the most powerful artillery, is but as a breeze 
 agitating a feather in comparison. In the 
 deluge of fire and melted matter which runs 
 down the sides of the mountain, whole cities 
 are sometimes swallowed up and consumed. 
 Those rivers of liquid fire are sometimes two 
 hundred feet deep ; and, when they harden, 
 frequently form considerable hills. Nor is 
 the danger of these confined to the eruption 
 only : but the force of the internal fire strug- 
 gling for vent, frequently produces earth- 
 quakes through the whole region where the 
 volcano is situated. So dreadful have been 
 these appearances, that men's terrors have 
 added new horrors to the scene, and they 
 have regarded as prodigies, what we know 
 to be the result of natural causes. Some 
 philosophers have considered them as vents 
 communicating with the fires of the centre; 
 and the ignorant, as the mouths of hell itself. 
 Astonishment produces fear, and fear super- 
 stition : the inhabitants of Iceland believe the 
 bellowings of Hecla are nothing else but the 
 
 Buffon, vol. i. p. 291. 
 
 cries of the damned, and that its eruptions 
 are contrived to increase their tortures. 
 
 But if we regard this astonishing scene of 
 terror with a more tranquil and inquisitive 
 eye, we shall find that these conflagrations 
 are produced by very obvious and natural 
 causes. We have already been apprised of 
 the various mineral substances in the bosom 
 of the earth, and their aptness to burst out 
 into flames. Marcasites and pyrites, in par- 
 ticular, by being humified with water or air, 
 contract this heat, and often endeavour to 
 expand with irresistible explosion. These, 
 therefore, being lodged in the depths of the 
 earth, or in the bosom of mountains, and 
 being either washed by the accidental influx 
 of waters below, or fanned by air, insinuating 
 itself through perpendicular fissures from 
 above, take fire at first by only heaving in 
 earthquakes, but at length by bursting through 
 every obstacle, and making their dreadful 
 discharge in a volcano. 
 
 These volcanoes are found in all parts of 
 the earth: In Europe there are three that are 
 very remarkable; 2Etna in Sicily, Vesuvius in 
 Italy, and Hecla in Iceland. jEtna has been 
 a volcano for ages immemorial. Its eruptions 
 are very violent, and its discharge has been 
 known to cover the earth eighty-six feet deep. 
 In the year 1 537, an eruption of this mountain 
 produced an earthquake through the whole 
 island for twelve days, overturned many 
 houses, and at last formed a new aperture, 
 which overwhelmed all within five leagues 
 round. The cinders thrown up were driven 
 even into Italy, and its burnings were seen at 
 Malta, at the distance of sixty leagues. " There 
 is nothing more awful," says Kircher, " than 
 the eruptions of this mountain, nor nothing 
 more dangerous than attempting to examine 
 its appearances, even long after the eruption 
 has ceased. As we attempt to clamber up 
 its steepy sides, every step we take upward, 
 the feet sink back half way. Upon arriving 
 near the summit, ashes and snow, with an ill- 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 27 
 
 assorted conjunction, present nothing but ob- 
 jects of desolation. Nor is this the worst, 
 for, as all places are covered over, many 
 caverns are entirely hidden from the sight, 
 into which, if the inquirer happens to fall, he 
 sinks to the bottom, and meets inevitable de- 
 struction. Upon coming to the edge of the 
 great crater, nothing can sufficiently represent 
 the tremendous magnificence of the scene. 
 A gulf two miles over, and so deep that no 
 bottom can be seen; on the sides pyramidi- 
 cal rocks starting out between apertures that 
 emit smoke and flame; all this accompanied 
 with a sound that never ceases, louder than 
 thunder, strikes the bold with horror, and the 
 religious with veneration for HIM that has 
 power to control its burnings." 
 
 In the descriptions of Vesuvius or Hecla, 
 we shall find scarcely any thing but a repe- 
 tition of the same terrible objects, but rather 
 lessened, as these mountains are not so large 
 as the former. The crater of Vesuvius is but 
 a mile across, according to the same author; 
 whereas that of ^Etna is two. On this par- 
 ticular, however, we must place no depen- 
 dence, as these caverns every day alter; being 
 lessened by the mountain's sinking in at one 
 eruption, and enlarged by (he fury of another. 
 It is not one of the least remarkable particu- 
 lars respecting Vesuvius, that Pliny the na- 
 turalist was suffocated in one of its eruptions; 
 for his curiosity impelling him too near, he 
 found himself involved in smoke and cinders 
 when it was too late to retire; and his com- 
 panions hardly escaped to give an account of 
 the misfortune. It was in that dreadful erup- 
 tion that the city of Herculaneum was over- 
 whelmed; the ruins of which have lately been 
 discovered at sixty feet distance below the 
 surface, and, what is still more remarkable, 
 forty feet below the bed of the sea. One of 
 the most remarkable eruptions of this moun- 
 tain was in the year 1707, which is finely de- 
 scribed by Valetta: a part of whose descrip- 
 tion I shall beg leave to translate. 
 
 "Towards the latter end of summer, in the 
 year 1707, the mount Vesuvius, that had for a 
 long time been silent, now began to give some 
 signs of commotion. Little more than internal 
 murmurs at first were heard, that seemed to 
 contend within the lowest depths of the 
 mountain; no flame, nor even any smoke, was ! 
 
 as yet seen. Soon after some smoke appear- 
 ed by day, and a flame by night, which seem- 
 ed to brighten all the campania. At inter- 
 vals, also, it shot ofT substances with a sound 
 very like that of artillery, but which, even at 
 so great a distance as we were at, infinitely 
 exceeded them in greatness. Soon after it 
 began to throw up ashes, which becoming the 
 sport of the winds, fell at great distances, and 
 some many miles. To this succeeded showers 
 of stones, which killed many of the inhabitants 
 of the valley, but made a dreadful ravage 
 among the cattle. Soon after a torrent of 
 burning matter began to roll down the sides 
 of the mountain, at first with a slow and gen- 
 tle motion, but soon with increased celerity. 
 The matter thus poured out, when cold, seem- 
 ed upon inspection to be of vitrified earth, 
 the whole united into a mass of more than 
 stony hardness. But what was particularly 
 observable was, that upon the whole surface 
 of these melted materials, a light spongy stone 
 seemed to float, while the lower body was of 
 the hardest substance of which our roads are 
 usually made. Hitherto there were no ap- 
 pearances but what had been often remarked 
 before; but on the third or fourth day, seem- 
 ing flashes of lightning were shot forth from 
 the mouth of the mountain, with a noise far 
 exceeding the loudest thunder. These flashes, 
 in colour and brightness, resembled what we 
 usually see in tempests, but they assumed a 
 more twisted and serpentine form. After this 
 followed such clouds of smoke and ashes, that 
 the whole city of Naples, in the midst of the 
 day, was involved in nocturnal darkness, and 
 the nearest friends were unable to distinguish 
 each other in this frightful gloom. If any per- 
 son attempted to stir out without torch-light, 
 he was obliged to return, and every part of 
 the city was filled with supplications and ter- 
 ror. At length, after a continuance of some 
 hours, about one o'clock at midnight, the 
 wind blowing from the north, the stars began 
 to be seen; the heavens, though it was night, 
 began to grow brighter; and the eruptions, 
 after a continuance of fifteen days, to lessen. 
 The torrent of melted matter was seen to ex- 
 tend from the mountain down to the shore; 
 the people began to return to their former 
 dwellings, and the whole face of nature to 
 resume its former appearance." 
 I 
 
28 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 The famous Bishop Berkley gives an ac- 
 count of one of these eruptions in a manner 
 something different from the former." " In the 
 year 1717, and the middle of April, with much 
 dilficulty I reached the top of Mount Vesu- 
 vius, in which I saw a vast aperture full of 
 smoke, which hindered me from seeing its 
 depth and figure. I heard within that horrid 
 gulf certain extraordinary sounds, which 
 seemed to proceed from the bowels of the 
 mountain, u sort of murmuring, sighing, dash- 
 ing sound ; and, between whiles, a noise like 
 that of thunder or cannon, with a clattering 
 like that of tiles falling from the tops of houses 
 into the streets. Sometimes, as the wind 
 changed, the smoke grew thinner, discovering 
 a very ruddy flame, and the circumference of 
 the crater streaked with red and several 
 shades of yellow. After an hour's stay, the 
 smoke, being moved by the wind, gave us 
 short and partial prospects of the great hol- 
 low; in the flat bottom of which I could dis- 
 cern two furnaces almost contiguous; that on 
 the left seeming about three yards over, 
 glowing with ruddy flame, and throwing up 
 red-hot stones with a hideous noise, which, 
 as they fell back, caused the clattering al- 
 ready taken notice of. May 8, in the morning, 
 I ascended the top of Vesuvius a second time, 
 and found a different face of things. The 
 smoke ascending upright, gave a full prospect 
 of the crater, which, as I could judge, was 
 about a mile in circumference, and a hundred 
 yards deep. A conical mount had been 
 formed, since my last visit, in the middle of 
 the bottom, which I could see was made by 
 the stones, thrown up and fallen back again 
 into the crater. In this new hill remained the 
 two furnaces already mentioned. The one 
 was seen to throw up every three or four 
 minutes, with a dreadful sound, a vast number 
 of red-hot stones, at least three hundred feet 
 higher than my head, as I stood upon the 
 brink; but as there was no wind, they fell 
 perpendicularly back from whence they had 
 been discharged. The other was filled with 
 red-hot liquid matter, like that in the furnace 
 of a glass-house, raging and working like the 
 waves of the sea, with a short abrupt noise. 
 This matter would sometimes boil over, and 
 
 Phil. Trans. voL ii. p. 209. 
 
 run down the side of the conical hill, appear- 
 ing at first red hot, but changing colour as it 
 hardened and cooled. Had the wind driven 
 in our faces, we had been in no small danger 
 of stifling by the sulphureous smoke, or being 
 killed by the masses of melted minerals that 
 were shot from the bottom. But as the wind 
 was favourable, I had an opportunity of sur- 
 veying this amazing scene for above an hour 
 and a half together. On the fifth of June, 
 after a horrid noi*e, the mountain was seen 
 at Naples to work over; and, about three 
 days after, its thunders were renewed so, 
 that not only the windows in the city, but all 
 the houses, shook. From that time it con- 
 tinued to overflow, and sometimes at night 
 were seen columns of fire shooting upward 
 from its summit. On the tenth, when all was 
 thought to be over, the mountain again re- 
 newed its terrors, roaring and raging most 
 violently. One cannot form ajuster idea of 
 the noise, in the most violent fits of it, than 
 by imagining a mixed sound made up of the 
 raging of a tempest, the murmur of a troubled 
 sea, and the roaring of thunder and artillery, 
 confused all together. Though we heard this 
 at a distance of twelve miles, yet it was very 
 terrible. I therefore resolved to approach 
 nearer to the mountain; and, accordingly, 
 three or four of us got into a boat, and were 
 set ashore at a little town situated at the foot 
 of the mountain. From thence we rode about 
 four or five miles, before we came to the tor- 
 rent of fire that was descending from the side 
 of the volcano; and here the roaring grew 
 exceedingly loud and terrible as we ap- 
 proached. I observed a mixture of colours 
 in the cloud, above the crater, green, yellow, 
 red, and blue. There was likewise a ruddy 
 dismal light in the air, over that tract where 
 the burning river flowed. These circum- 
 stances, set off and augmented by the horror 
 of the night, made a scene the most uncom- 
 mon and astonishing I ever saw; which still 
 increased as we approached the burning 
 river. Imagine a vast torrent of liquid fire, 
 rolling from the top down the side of the 
 mountain, and with irresistible fury bear- 
 ing down and consuming vines, olives, and 
 houses ; and divided into different channels, 
 according to the inequalities of the mountain. 
 The largest stream seemed half a mile broad 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 at least, and five miles long. I walked so far 
 before my companions up the mountain, along 
 the side of the river of tire, that I was obliged 
 to retire in gre.it haste, the sulphureous stream 
 having surprised me, and almost taken away 
 my breath. During our return, which was 
 about three o'clock in the morning, the roar- 
 ing of the mountain was heard all the way, 
 while we observed it throwing up huge spouts 
 of fire and burning stones, which, falling, re- 
 sembled the stars in a rocket. Sometimes I 
 observed two or three distinct columns of 
 flame, and sometimes one only, that was large 
 enough to fill the whole crater. These burn- 
 ing columns, and fiery stones, seemed to be 
 shot a thousand feet perpendicular above the 
 summit of the volcano; and in this manner 
 the mountain continued raging for six or eight 
 days after. On the 18th of the same month, 
 the whole appearance ended, and the moun- 
 tain remained perfectly quiet, without any 
 visible smoke or flame. 
 
 The matter which is found to roll down 
 from the mouth of all volcanoes in general, 
 resembles the dross that is thrown from a 
 smith's forge. But it is different, perhaps, in 
 various parts of the globe ; for, as we have 
 already said, there is not a quarter of the 
 world that has not its volcanoes. In Asia, 
 particularly in the islands of the Indian Ocean, 
 there are many. One of the most famous is 
 that of Albouras, near Mount Taurus, the 
 (summit of which is continually on fire, and 
 covers the whole adjacent country with ashes. 
 In the island of Ternate there is a volcano, 
 which, some travellers assert, burns most fu- 
 riously in the times of the equinoxes, because 
 of the winds which then contribute to increase 
 the flames. In the Molucco islands there 
 are many burning mountains; they are also 
 seen in Japan, and the islands adjacent ; 
 and in Java and Sumatra, as well as in other 
 of the Philippine islands. In Africa there is 
 a cavern, near Fez, which continually sends 
 forth either smoke or flames. In the Cape 
 de Verde islands, one of them, called the 
 Island del Fuego, continually burns ; and the 
 Portuguese, who frequently attempted a set- 
 tlement there, have as often been obliged to 
 desist. The Peak of Teneriffe is, as every 
 one knows, a volcano, that seldom desists 
 from eruptions. But, of all parts of the earth, 
 
 America is the place where those dreadful 
 irregularities of nature are the most conspicu- 
 ous. Vesuvius, and YEtria itself, are but 
 mere fireworks in comparison to the burning- 
 mountains of the Andes ; which, as they are 
 the highest mountains of the world, so also 
 are they the most formidable for their erup- 
 tions. The mountain of Arequipa in Peru, is 
 one of the most celebrated ; Carassa, and 
 Malahallo, are very considerable ; but that 
 of Cotopaxi, in the province of Quito, exceeds 
 any thing we have hitherto read or heard of. 
 The mountain of Cotopaxi, as described by 
 Ulloa," is more than three miles perpendicular 
 from the sea ; and it became a volcano at the 
 time of the Spaniards' first arrival in that 
 country. A new eruption of it happened in the 
 year 1743,having been some days preceded by 
 a continual roaring in its bowels. The sound 
 of one of these mountains is not, like that of 
 the volcanoes in Europe, confined to a pro- 
 vince, but is heard at a hundred and fifty 
 miles distance. 1 * " An aperture was made in 
 the summit of this immense mountain ; and 
 three more about equal heights near the mid- 
 dle of its declivity, which was at that time 
 buried under prodigious masses of snow. The 
 ignited substances ejected on that occasion, 
 mixed with a prodigious quantity of ice and 
 snow, melting amidst the flames, were car- 
 ried down with such astonishing rapidity, that 
 in an instant the valley from Callo to Latu- 
 cunga was overflowed; and besides its ravages 
 in bearing down the houses of the Indians, 
 and other poor inhabitants, great numbers of 
 people lost their lives. The river of Latu- 
 cunga was the channel of this terrible flood ; 
 till being too small for receiving such a pro- 
 digious current, it overflowed the adjacent 
 country, like a vast lake, near the town, and 
 carried away all the buildings within its reach. 
 The inhabitants retired into a spot of higher 
 ground behind the town, of which those parts 
 which stood within the limits of the current 
 were totally destroyed. The dread of still 
 greater devastations did not subside for three 
 days; during which the volcano ejected cin- 
 ders, while torrents of melted ice and snow 
 poured down its sides. The eruption lasted 
 several days, and was accompanied with ter- 
 
 a Ulloa, vol. i. p. 442. 
 
 b Ulloa, vol. i. p. 442. 
 
30 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 rible roarings of the wind, rushing through 
 the volcano, still louder than the former 
 rumblings in its bowels. At last all was 
 quiet, neither fire nor smoke to be seen, nor 
 noise to be heard; till, in the ensuing year, 
 the flames again appeared with recruited vio- 
 lence, forcing their passage through several 
 other parts of the mountain, so that in clear 
 nights the flames being reflected by the trans- 
 parent ice, formed an awfully magnificent 
 illumination." 
 
 Such is the appearance and the effect of those 
 lires which proceed from the more inward 
 recesses of the earth : for that they generally 
 come from deeper regions than man has 
 hitherto explored, I cannot avoid thinking, 
 contrary to the opinion of Mr. Buffbn, who 
 supposes them rooted but a very little way be- 
 low the bed ofthe mountain. "We can never sup- 
 pose," says this great naturalist, "that these 
 substances are ejected from any great distance 
 below, if we only consider the great force 
 already required to fling them up to such 
 vast heights above the mouth ofthe mountain ; 
 if we consider the substances thrown up, 
 which we shall find upon inspection to be the 
 same with those of the mountain below ; if we 
 take into our consideration, that air is always 
 necessary to keep up the flame ; but, most of 
 all, if we attend to one circumstance, which 
 is, that if these substances were exploded 
 from a vast depth below, the same force re- 
 quired to shoot them up so high, would act 
 against the sides of the voJcano, and tear the 
 whole mountain in pieces." To all this spe- 
 
 cious reasoning, particular answers might be 
 easily given ; as, that the length of the funnel 
 increases the force of the explosion ; that the 
 sides of the funnel are actually often burst 
 with the great violence of the flame ; that air 
 may be supposed at depths at least as far as 
 the perpendicular fissures descend. But the 
 best answer is a well-known fact ; namely, 
 that the quantity of matter discharged from 
 ./Etna alone, is supposed, upon a moderate 
 computation, to exceed twenty times the 
 original bulk ofthe mountain." The greatest 
 part of Sicily seems covered with its erup- 
 tions. 
 
 The inhabitants of Catanea have found, 
 at the distance of several miles, streets and 
 houses sixty feet deep, overwhelmed by the 
 lava or matter it has discharged. But what 
 is still more remarkable, the walls of these 
 very houses have been built of materials evi- 
 dently thrown up by the mountain. The in- 
 ference from all this is very obvious ; that the 
 matter thus exploded cannot belong to the 
 mountain itself, otherwise it would have been 
 quickly consumed ; it cannot be derived from 
 moderate depths, since its amazing quantity 
 evinces, that all the places near the bottom 
 must have long since been exhausted; nor 
 can it have an extensive, and, if I may so call 
 it, a superficial spread, for then the country 
 round would be quickly undermined ; it must, 
 therefore, be supplied from the deeper regions 
 ofthe earth ; those undiscovered tracts where 
 the Deity performs his wonders in solitude, 
 satisfied with self-approbation ! 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 OF EARTHQUAKES. 
 
 HAVING given the theory of volcanoes, we 
 have in some measure given also that of 
 earthquakes. They both seem to proceed 
 from the same cause, only with this differ- 
 ence, that the fury of the volcano is spent in 
 the eruption; that of an earthquake spreads 
 
 Kircher, Mund. Subt. vol. i. p. 202. 
 
 wider, and acts more fatally by being confin- 
 ed. The volcano only affrights a province ; 
 earthquakes have laid whole kingdoms in 
 ruin. 
 
 Philosophers'* have taken some pains to dis- 
 tinguish between the various kinds of earth- 
 
 b Aristotle, Agricola, Buffon. 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 31 
 
 quakes, such as the tremulous, the pulsative, 
 the perpendicular, and the inclined ; but 
 these are rather the distinctions of art than 
 of nature, mere accidental differences arising 
 from the situation of the country or of the 
 cause. If, for instance, the confined h're acts 
 directly under a province or a town, it will 
 heave the earth perpendicularly upward, 
 and produce a perpendicular earthquake. If 
 it acts at a distance, it will raise that tract 
 obliquely, and thus the inhabitants will per- 
 ceive an inclined one. 
 
 Nor does it seem to me that there is much 
 greater reason for Mr. BufFon's distinction of 
 earthquakes ; one kind of which he supposes" 
 to be produced by fire in the manner of vol- 
 canoes, and confined but to a very narrow 
 circumference. The other kind he ascribes 
 to the struggles of confined air, expanded by 
 heat in the bowels of the earth, and endeavour- 
 ing to get free. For how do these two causes 
 differ? Fire is an agent of no power whatso- 
 ever without air. It is the air, which being at 
 first compressed, and (hen dilated in a cannon, 
 that drives the ball with such force. It is the 
 air struggling for vent in a volcano, that 
 throws up its contents to such vast heights. 
 In short, it is the air confined in the bonds 
 of the earth, and acquiring elasticity by heat. 
 that produces all those appearances which 
 are generally ascribed to the operation of 
 fire. When, therefore, we are told lh;tt there 
 are two causes of earthquakes, we only learn 
 that a greater or smaller quantity of heat pro- 
 duces those terrible effects ; for air is the only 
 active operator in either. 
 
 Some philosophers, however, have been 
 willing to give the air as great a share in pro- 
 ducing these terrible efforts as they could ; 
 and, magnifying its powers, have called in 
 but a very moderate degree of heat to put it 
 in action. Although experience tell us that 
 the earth is full of inflammable materials, and 
 tint fires are produced wherever we descend ; 
 although it tells us that those countries where 
 there are volcanoes, are most subject to earth- 
 quakes; yet they step out of their way, and 
 so find a new solution. These only allow but 
 just heat enough to produce the most dreadful 
 phenomena, and, backing their assertions with 
 
 * Buffbn, vol. ii. p. 328. 
 io. 4. 
 
 long calculations, give theory an air of de- 
 monstration. Mr. Amontons b has been par- 
 ticularly sparing of the internal heat in this 
 respect ; and has shown, perhaps accurately 
 enough, that a very moderate degree of heat 
 may suffice to give the air amazing powers of 
 expansion. 
 
 It is amazing enough, however, to trace the 
 progress of a philosophical fancy let loose in 
 imaginary speculations. They run thus: "A 
 very moderate degree of heat may bring the 
 air into a condition capable of producing 
 earthquakes ; for the air, at the depth of 
 forty-three thousand five hundred and twenty- 
 eight fathom below the surface of the earth, 
 becomes almost as heavy as quicksilver. 
 This, however, is but a very slight depth in 
 comparison of the distance to the centre, and 
 is scarcely a seventieth part of the way. The 
 air, therefore, at the centre, must be infinitely 
 heavier than mercury, or any body that we 
 know of. This granted, we shall take some- 
 thing more, and say, that it is very probable 
 there is nothing but air at the centre. Now 
 let us suppose this air heated, by some means, 
 even to the degree of boiling water, (as we 
 have proved that the density of the air is here 
 very great.) its elasticity must be in propor- 
 tion ; a heat, therefore, which at the surface 
 of the earth would have produced but a slight 
 expansive force, must, at the centre, produce 
 one very extraordinary, and, in short, be per- 
 fectly irresistible. Hence, this force may, 
 with great ease, produce earthquakes; and, 
 if increased, it may convulse the globe; it 
 may (by only adding figures enough to the 
 calculation) destroy the solar system, and 
 even the fixed stars themselves." These 
 reveries generally produce nothing; for, as I 
 have ever observed, increased calculations, 
 while they seem to tire the memory, give the 
 reasoning faculty perfect repose. 
 
 However, as earthquakes are the most 
 formidable ministers of nature, it is not to be 
 wondered that a multitude of writers have 
 been curiously employed in their considera- 
 tion. Woodward has ascribed the cause to 
 a stoppage of the waters below the earth's 
 surface by some accident. These being thus 
 accumulated, ami yet acted upon by fires. 
 
 b Memoires de 1'Academie de Sciences. An. 1703. 
 K 
 
32 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 which he supposes still deeper, both contri- 
 bute to heave up the earth upon their bosom. 
 This, he thinks, accounts for the lakes of water 
 produced in an earthquake, as well as for the 
 fires that sometimes burst from the earth's 
 surface upon those dreadful occasions. There 
 are others who have supposed that the earth 
 may be itself the cause of its own convulsions. 
 " When," say they, "the root or basis of some 
 large tract is worn away by a fluid under- 
 neath, the earth sinking therein, its weight 
 occasions a tremour of the adjacent parts, 
 sometimes producing a noise, and sometimes 
 an inundation of water." Not to tire the 
 reader with a history of opinions instead of 
 facts, some have ascribed them to electricity, 
 and some to the same causes that produce 
 thunder. 
 
 It would be tedious, therefore, to give all 
 the various opinions that have employed the 
 speculative on this subject. The activity of 
 the internal heat seems alone sufficient to 
 account for every appearance that attends 
 these tremendous irregularities of nature. To 
 conceive this distinctly, let us suppose, at 
 some vast distance under the earth, large 
 quantities of inflammable matter, pyrites, 
 bitumens, and marcasites, disposed, and only 
 waiting tor the aspersion of water, or the hu- 
 midity of the air, to put their fires in motion: 
 at last, this dreadful mixture arrives ; waters 
 find their way into those depths, through the 
 perpendicular fissures ; or air insinuates itself 
 through the same minute apertures: instantly 
 new appearances ensue ;_ those substances, 
 which for ages before lay dormant, now con- 
 ceive new apparent qualities ; they grow hot, 
 produce new air, and ouly want room for ex- 
 pansion. However, the narrow apertures by 
 which the air or water had at first admission, 
 are now closed up ; yet as new air is con- 
 tinually generated, and as the heat every mo- 
 ment gives this air new elasticity, it at length 
 bursts, and -dilates all round; and, in its 
 struggles to get free, throws all above it into 
 similar convulsions. Thus an earthquake is 
 produced, more or less extensive, according 
 to the depth or the greatness of the cause. 
 
 But before we proceed with the causes, let 
 us take a short view of the appearances which 
 
 Plin. lib. ii. cap. 86. 
 
 have attended the most remarkable earth- 
 quakes. By these we shall see how far the 
 theorist corresponds with the historian. The 
 greatest we find in antiquity is that mentioned 
 by Hiny, a in which twelve cities in Asia Mi- 
 nor were swallowed up in one night : lie tells 
 us also of another, near the lake Thrasymene, 
 which was not perceived by the armies of 
 the Carthaginians and Romans, that were 
 then engaged near that lake, although it shook 
 the greatest part of Italy. In another place b 
 he gives the following account of an earth- 
 quake of an extraordinary kind. " When 
 Lucius Marcus and Sextus Julius were con- 
 suls, there appeared a very strange prodigy 
 of the earth, (as I have read in the book of 
 ./Etruscan discipline,) which happened in the 
 province of Mutina. Two mountains shocked 
 against each other, approaching and retir- 
 ing with the most dreadful noise. They, at 
 the same time, and in the midst of the day, 
 appeared to cast forth fire and smoke, while 
 a vast number of Roman knights and travel- 
 lers from the jEmilian Way, stood and con- 
 tinued amazed spectators. Several towns 
 were destroyed by this shock; and all the 
 animals that were near them were killed." 
 In the times of Trajan, the city of Antioch, 
 and a great part of the adjacent country, was 
 buried by an earthquake. About three hun- 
 dred years after, in the times of Justinian, 
 it was once more destroyed, together with 
 forty thousand inhabitants ; and, after an 
 interval of sixty years, the same ill-fated city 
 was a third time overturned, with the loss of 
 not less than sixty thousand souls. In the 
 year 1182, most of the cities of Syria, and 
 the kingdom of Jerusalem, were destroyed 
 by the same accident. In the year 1594, the 
 Italian historians describe an earthquake at 
 Puteoli, which caused the sea to retire two 
 hundred yards from its former bed. 
 
 But one of those most particularly describ- 
 ed in history, is that of the year 1693; the 
 damages of which were chiefly felt in Sicily, 
 but its motion perceived in Germany, France, 
 and England. It extended to a circumfer- 
 ence of two thousand six hundred leagues; 
 chiefly affecting the sea-coast and great riv- 
 ers; more perceivable also upon the nioun- 
 
 b Plin. lib. iii. cap. 85. 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 33 
 
 tains than in the valleys. Its motions were 
 so rapid, that those who lay at their length 
 were tossed from side to side, as upon a roll- 
 ing billow.* The walls were dashed from 
 their foundations ; and no less than fifty-four 
 cities, with an incredible number of villages, 
 were either destroyed or greatly damaged. 
 The city of Catanca, in particular, was utterly 
 overthrown. A traveller, who was on his way 
 thither, at the distance of some miles, per- 
 ceived a black cloud, like night, hanging- 
 over the place. The sea, all of a sudden, 
 began to roar; Mount J^tna to send forth 
 great spires of flame; and soon after a shock 
 ensued, with a noise as if all the artillery in 
 the world had been at once discharged. Our 
 traveller, being obliged to alight instantly, 
 felt himself raised a foot from the ground ; 
 and turning his eyes to the city, he, with 
 amazement, saw nothing but a thick cloud of 
 dust in the air. The birds flew about asto- 
 nished; the sun was darkened ; the beasts ran 
 howling from the hills; and although the 
 shock did not continue above three minutes, 
 yet near nineteen thousand of the inhabitants 
 of Sicily perished in the ruins. Catanea, to 
 which city the describer was travelling, seem- 
 ed the principal scene of ruin; its place only 
 was to be found ; and not a footstep of its 
 former magnificence was to be seen remain- 
 ing. - 
 
 The earthquake which happened in Ja- 
 maica, in 1692, was very terrible, and its 
 description sufficiently minute. " In two 
 minutes' time it destroyed the town of Port 
 Royal, and sunk the houses in a gulf forty 
 fathoms deep. It was attended with a hollow 
 rumbling noise, like that of thunder; and," in 
 less than a minute, three parts of the houses, 
 and their inhabitants, were all sunkquite under 
 water. While they were thus swallowed up 
 on one side of the street, on the other the 
 houses were thrown into heaps; the sand 
 of the streets rising like the waves of the 
 eea, lifting up those that stood upon it, and 
 immediately overwhelming them in pits. All 
 the wells discharged their waters with the 
 most vehement agitation. The sea felt an 
 equal share of turbulence, and, bursting over 
 its mounds, deluged all that came in its way. 
 
 Phil. Trans, 
 
 The fissures of the earth were, in some places, 
 so great, that one of the streets appeared 
 twice as broad as formerly. In many places, 
 however, it opened and closed again, and 
 continued this agitation for some time. Of 
 these openings, two or three hundred might 
 be seen at a time ; in some whereof the peo- 
 ple were swallowed up ; in others, the earth 
 closing, caught them by the middle, and thus 
 crushed them instantly to death. Other 
 openings, still more dreadful than the rest, 
 swallowed up whole streets ; and others, 
 more formidable, spouted up whole cataracts 
 of water, drowning such as the earthquake 
 had spared. The whole was attended with 
 the most noisome stench ; while the thunder- 
 ing of the distant falling mountains, the whole 
 sky overcast with a dusky gloom, and the 
 crash of falling habitations, gave unspeaka- 
 ble horror to the scene. After this dreadful 
 calamity was over, the whole island seemed 
 converted into a scene of desolation ; scarcely 
 a planter's house was left standing ; almost 
 all were swallowed up; houses, people, trees, 
 shared one universal ruin; and in their places 
 appeared great pools of water, which, when 
 dried up by the sun, left only a plain of barren 
 sand, without any vestige of former inhabi- 
 tants. Most of the rivers, during the earth- 
 quake, were stopped up by the falling in of the 
 mountains ; and it was not till after some time 
 that they made themselves new channels. 
 The mountains seemed particularly attacked 
 by the force of the shock ; and it was sup- 
 posed that the principal seat of the concus- 
 sion was among them. Those who were 
 saved got on board ships in the harbour, where 
 many remained above two months; the shocks 
 continuing, during that interval, with more or 
 less violence every day." 
 
 As this description seems to exhibit all the 
 appearances that usually make up the cata- 
 logue of terrors belonging to an earthquake. 
 I will suppress the detail of that which hap- 
 pened at Lisbon in our own times, and which 
 is too recent to require a description. In fact, 
 there are few particulars in the accounts of 
 those who were present at that scene of deso- 
 lation, that we have not more minutely and 
 accurately transmitted to us by former wri- 
 ters, whose narratives I have for that reason 
 preferred, I will therefore close this descrip- 
 
34 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 tion of human calamities with the account of 
 the dreadful earthquake at Calabria, in 
 1638. It is related by the celebrated Fa- 
 ther Kircher, as it happened while he was 
 on his journey to visit Mount ^Etna. and 
 the rest of the wonders that lie towards 
 the south of Italy. I need scarcely inform 
 the reader, that Kircher is considered, by 
 scholars, as one of the greatest prodigies of 
 learning. 
 
 "Having hired a boat, in company with 
 four more, two friars of the order of St. Fran- 
 cis, and two seculars, we launched, on the 
 twenty-fourth of March, from the harbour of 
 Messina, in Sicily, and arrived the same day 
 at the promontory of Pelorus. Our destina- 
 tion was for the city of Euphaemia, in Calabria, 
 where we had some business to transact, and 
 where we designed to tarry for some time. 
 However, Providence seemed willing to cross 
 our design; for we were obliged to continue 
 for three days at Pelorus, upon account of 
 the weather ; and though we often put out to 
 sea, yet we were as often driven back. At 
 length, however, wearied with the delay, we 
 resolved to prosecute our voyage ; and, al- 
 though the sea seemed more than usually 
 agitated, yet we ventured forward. The 
 gulf of Charybdis, which we approached, 
 seemed whirled round in such a manner, as 
 to form a vast hollow, verging to a point in 
 the centre. Proceeding onward, and turning 
 my eyes to ^Etna, I saw it cast forth large 
 volumes of smoke, of mountainous sizes, which 
 entirely covered the whole island, and blotted 
 out the very shores from my view. This, to- 
 gether with the dreadful noise, and the sul- 
 phureous stench, which was strongly per- 
 ceived, filled me with apprehensions that 
 some more dreadful calamity was impending. 
 The sea itself seemed to wear a very unusual 
 appearance ; those who have seen a lake in 
 a violent shower of rain covered all over with 
 bubbles, will conceive some idea of its agita- 
 tions. My surprise was still increased by the 
 calmness and serenity of the weather; not a 
 breeze, not a cloud, which might be suppos- 
 ed to put all nature thus into motion. I 
 therefore warned my companions that an 
 earthquake was approaching ; and, after some 
 time, making for the shore with all possible 
 diligence, we landed at Tropae, happy and 
 
 thankful for having escaped the threatening 
 dangers of the sea. 
 
 " But our triumphs at land were of short 
 duration ; for we had scarcely arrived at the 
 Jesuits'College in thatcity, when our ears were 
 stunned with a horrid sound, resembling that 
 of an infinite number of chariots driven fierce- 
 ly forward, the wheels rattling, and the thongs 
 cracking. Soon after this, a most dreadful 
 earthquake ensued, so that the whole tract 
 upon which we stood seemed to vibrate, as 
 if we were in the scale of a balance that con- 
 tinued wavering. This motion, however, soon 
 grew more violent; and being no longer able 
 to keep my legs, I was thrown prostrate upon 
 the ground. In the mean time, the universal 
 ruin round me redoubled my amazement. 
 The crash of falling houses, the tottering of 
 towers, and the groans of the dying, all con- 
 tributed to raise my terror and despair. On 
 every side of me I saw nothing but a scene 
 of ruin, and danger threatening wherever I 
 should fly. I commended myself to God, as my 
 last great refuge. At that hour, Ohow vain was 
 every sublunary happiness ! wealth, honour, 
 empire? wisdom, all mere useless sounds, and 
 as empty as the bubbles in the deep. Just 
 standing on the threshold of eternity, nothing 
 but God was my pleasure; and the nearer I ap- 
 proached, I only loved him the more. After 
 some time, however, finding that I remained 
 unhurt amidst the general concussion, I re- 
 solved to venture for safety, and running as- 
 fast as I could, reached the shore, but al- 
 most terrified out of my reason. I did not 
 search long here till I found the boat in which 
 I had landed, and my companions also, whose 
 terrors were even greater than mine. Our 
 meeting was not of that kind where every one 
 is desirous of telling his own happy escape ; 
 it was all silence, and a gloomy dread of im- 
 pending terrors. 
 
 " Leaving this seat of desolation, we pro- 
 secuted our voyage along the coast, and the 
 next day came to Rochetta, where we landed, 
 although the earth still continued in violent 
 agitations. But we were scarcely arrived at 
 our inn, when we were once more obliged to 
 return to the boat, and i about half an hour 
 we saw the greatest part of the town, and the inn 
 at which we had set up, dashed to the ground, 
 and burying all i<e inhabitants beneath its ruins. 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 35 
 
 " In this manner, proceeding onward in our 
 little vessel, finding no safety at land, and 
 yet, from the smallness of our boat, having 
 but a very dangerous continuance at sea, we 
 at length landed at Lopizium, a castle mid- 
 way between Tropse and Eupha3mia, the city 
 to which, as 1 said before, we were bound. 
 Here, wherever I turned my eyes, nothing f>ut 
 scenes of ruin and horror appeared; towns 
 and castles levelled to the ground ; Strom- 
 balo, though at sixty miles distance, belching 
 forth tlaines in an unusual manner, and with 
 a noise which I could distinctly hear. But 
 my attention was quickly turned from more 
 remote to contiguous danger. The rumbling 
 sound of an approaching earthquake, which 
 we by this time were grown acquainted with. 
 alarmed us for the consequences ; it every 
 moment seemed to grow louder, and to ap- 
 proach more near. The place on which we 
 stood now began to shake most dreadfully, 
 so that being unable to stand, my compani- 
 ons and I caught hold of whatever shrub grew 
 next us, and supported ourselves in that man- 
 ner. 
 
 " After some time, this violent paroxysm 
 ceasing, we again stood up, in order to pro- 
 secute our voyage to Euphaemia, that lay 
 within sight. In the mean time, while we 
 were preparing for this purpose. I turned my 
 eyes towards the city, but could see only a 
 frightful dark cloud that seemed to rest upon 
 the place. This the more surprised i.b, as 
 the weather was so very serene. We waited, 
 therefore, till the cloud was passed away; 
 then turning to look for the city, it was to- 
 tally sunk. Wonderful to tell ! nothing but 
 a dismal and putrid lake was to be seen 
 where it stood. We looked about to find 
 some one that could tell us of its sad catas- 
 trophe, but could see none ! All was become 
 a melancholy solitude! a scene of hideous de- 
 solation ! Thus proceeding pensively along, 
 in quest of some human being that could give 
 us some little information, we at length saw 
 a boy sitting by the shore, and appearing 
 stupified with terror. Of him, therefore, we 
 inquired concerning the fate of the city, but 
 he could not be induced to give us an an- 
 swer. We entreated him with every ex- 
 pression of tenderness and pity to tell us : 
 but his senses were quite wrapt up in the 
 
 contemplation of the danger he had escaped. 
 We offered him some victuals, but he seemed 
 to loathe the sight. We still persisted in our 
 offices of kindness ; but he only pointed to the 
 place of the city, like one out of his senses ; 
 and then running up into the woods, was 
 never heard of after. Such was the fate of 
 the city of EuphaBmia! and as we continued 
 our melancholy course along the shore, the 
 whole coast, for the space of two hundred 
 miles, presented nothing but the remains of 
 cities, and men- scattered, without an habita- 
 tion, over the fields. Proceeding thus along, 
 we at length ended our distressful voyage by 
 arriving at Naples, after having escaped a 
 thousand dangers both at sea and land." 
 
 The reader, I hope, w ill excuse me for this 
 long translation from a favourite writer, and 
 that the sooner, as it contains some particulars 
 relative to earthquakes not to be found else- 
 where. From the whole of these accounts 
 we may gather, that the most concomitant 
 circumstances are these : 
 
 A rumbling sound before the earthquake. 
 This proceeds from the air or fire, or both, 
 forcing their way through the chasms of the 
 earth, and endeavouring to get free; which 
 is also heard in volcanoes. 
 
 A violent agitation or heaving of the sea, 
 sometimes before and sometimes after that at 
 land. This agitation is only a similar effect 
 produced on the waters with that at land, 
 and may be called, for the sake of perspicui- 
 ty, a sea-quake; and this also is produced by 
 volcanoes. 
 
 A spouting up of waters to great heights. 
 It is not easy to describe the manner in which 
 this is performed: but volcanoes also perform 
 the same ; Vesuvius being known frequently 
 to eject a vast body of water. 
 
 A rocking of the earth to and fro, and 
 sometimes a perpendicular bouncing, if it 
 may be so called, of the same. This differ- 
 rnce chiefly arises from the situation of the 
 place with respect to the suhferranean fire. 
 Directly under, it lifts; at a farther distance, 
 it rocks. 
 
 Some earthquakes seem to travel onward, 
 and are felt in different countries at different 
 hours the same day. This arises from the 
 great shock being given to the earth at one 
 place, and that being communicated onward 
 T, 
 
36 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 by an undulatory motion, successively affects 
 different regions in its progress ; as the blow 
 given by a stone falling in a lake, is not per- 
 ceived at the shores till some time after the 
 first concussion. 
 
 The shock is sometimes instantaneous, like 
 the explosion of gunpowder; and sometimes 
 tremulous, and continuing for several minutes. 
 The nearer the place where the shock is first 
 given, the more instantaneous and simple it 
 appears. At a greater distance, the earth 
 redoubles the first blow witli a sort of vibra- 
 tory continuation. 
 
 As waters have generally so great a share 
 in producing earthquakes, it is not to be 
 wondered that they should generally follow 
 those breaches made by the force of fire, and 
 appear in the great chasms which the earth- 
 quake has opened. 
 
 These are some of the most remarkable 
 phenomena of earthquakes, presenting a 
 frightful assemblage of the most terrible effects 
 of air, earth, fire, and water. 
 
 Th'> v.dley ofSolfatara, near Naples, seems 
 to exhibit, in a minuter degree, whatever is 
 seen of this horrible kind oa the great theatre 
 of nature. This plain, which is about twelve 
 hundred feet long, and a thousand broad, is 
 embosomed in mountains, and has in the mid- 
 dle of it a lake of noisome blackish water, 
 covered with a bitumen, that floats upon its 
 
 surface. In every part of this plain, caverns 
 appear smoking with sulphur, and often 
 emitting flames. The earth, wherever we 
 walk over it, trembles beneath the feet. 
 Noises of flames, and the hissing of waters, 
 are heard at the bottom. The water some- 
 times spouts up eight or ten feet high. The 
 most noisome fumes, fetid water, and sul- 
 phureous vapours, offend the smell. A stone 
 thrown into any of the caverns, is ejected 
 again with considerable violence. These ap- 
 pearances generally prevail when the sea is 
 any way disturbed ; and the whole seems" to 
 exhibit the appearance of an earthquake in 
 miniature. However, in this smaller scene 
 of wonders, as well as in the greater, there 
 are many appearances for which, perhaps, 
 we shall never account ; and many questions 
 may be asked, which no conjectures can 
 thoroughly resolve. It was the fault of the 
 philosophers of the last age, to be more in- 
 quisitive after the causes of things than 
 after the things themselves. They seemed 
 to think that a confession of ignorance can- 
 celled their claims to wisdom ; they, there- 
 fore, had a solution for every demand. 
 But the present age has grown, if not 
 more inquisitive, at least more modest; and 
 none are now ashamed of that ignorance 
 which labour can neither remedy nor re- 
 move. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 OF THE APPEARANCE OF NEW ISLANDS AND TRACTS; AND OF THE 
 
 DISAPPEARING OF OTHERS. 
 
 HITHERTO we have taken a survey only 
 of the evils which are produced by subter- 
 ranean fires, but we have mentioned nothing 
 of the benefits they may possibly produce. 
 They may be of use in warming and cherish- 
 ing the ground, in promoting vegetation, and 
 giving a more exquisite flavour to the pro- 
 ductions of the earth. The imagination of a 
 person who has never been out of our v ovvn 
 mild region, can scarcely reach to that luxu- 
 riant beauty with which all nature appears 
 
 clothed in those very countries that we hare 
 but just now described as desolated by earth- 
 quakes, and undermined by subterranean 
 fires. It must be granted, therefore, that 
 though in those regions they have a greater 
 share in the dangers, they have also a larger 
 proportion in the benefits of nature. 
 
 But there is another advantage arising from 
 subterranean fires, which, though hitherto 
 disregarded by man, yet may one day be- 
 come serviceable to him; I mean, that while 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 they are found to swallow up cities and plains 
 in one place, they are also known to produce 
 promontories and islands in another. We 
 have many instances of islands being thus 
 formed in the midst of the sea, which, though 
 for a long time barren, have afterwards be- 
 come fruitful seats of happiness and industry. 
 
 New islands are formed in two ways ; ei- 
 ther suddenly, by the action of subterraneous 
 fires; or more slowly, by the deposition of 
 mud, carried down by rivers, and stopped by 
 some accident." With respect particularly 
 to the first, ancient historians, and modern 
 travellers, give us such accounts as we can 
 have no room to doubt of. Seneca assures us, 
 that in his time the island of Therasia ap- 
 peared unexpectedly to some mariners, as 
 they were employed in another pursuit. Pliny 
 assures us, that thirteen islands in the Medi- 
 terranean appeared at once emerging from 
 the water; the cause of which he ascribes 
 rather to the retiring of the sea in those parts, 
 than to any subterraneous elevation. How- 
 ever, he mentions the island of Hiera, near 
 that of Therasia, as formed by subterraneous 
 explosions ; and adds to his list several others 
 formed in the same manner. In one of which 
 he relates that fish in great abundance were 
 found, and that all those who ate of them 
 died shortly after. 
 
 " On the twenty-fourth of May, b in the 
 year 1707, a slight earthquake was perceived 
 at Santorin; and the day following, at sun- 
 rising, an object was seen by the inhabitants 
 of that island, at two or three miles distance 
 at sea, which appeared like a floating rock. 
 Some persons, desirous either of gain, or in- 
 cited by curiosity, went there, and found, 
 even while they stood upon this rock, that it 
 seemed to rise beneath their feet. They per- 
 ceived also, that its surface was covered with 
 pumice-stones and oysters, which it had rais- 
 ed from the bottom. Every day after, until 
 the fourteenth of June, this rock seemed con- 
 siderably to increase; and then was found to 
 be half a mile round, and about thirty feet 
 above the sea. The earth of which it was 
 composed seemed whitish, with a small pro- 
 portion of clay. Soon after this the sea again 
 
 a Buffon, vol. ii. p. 343. 
 
 " Hist, de 1'Acad. an. 1708, p. 23- 
 
 Justin, lib. xxx. cap. 4. 
 
 appeared troubled, and steams arose which 
 were very offensive to the inhabitants of San- 
 torin. But on the sixteenth of the succeeding 
 month, seventeen or eighteen rocks more 
 were seen to rise out of the sea, and at length 
 to join together. All this was accompanied 
 with the most terrible noise, and fires which 
 proceeded from the island that was newly 
 formed. The whole mass, however, of all 
 this new-formed earth, uniting, increased 
 every day, both in height and breadth, and, 
 by the force of explosions, cast forth rocks 
 to seven miles distance. This continued to 
 bear the same dreadful appearances till the 
 month of November in the same year; and it 
 is at present a volcano, which sometimes re- 
 news its explosions. It is about three miles in 
 circumference ; and more than from thirty-five 
 to forty feet high." 
 
 It seems extraordinary, that, about this 
 place in particular, islands have appeared at 
 different times, particularly that of Hiera, 
 mentioned above, which has received con- 
 siderable additions in succeeding ages. Justin 
 tells us, c that at the time the Macedonians 
 were at war with the Romans, a new island 
 appeared between those of Theramenes and 
 Therasia, by means of an earthquake. We 
 are told that this became half as large again 
 about a thousand years after, another island 
 rising up by its side, and joining to it, so as 
 scarcely at present to be distinguished from 
 the former. 
 
 A new island was formed in the year 1720, 
 near that of Tercera, near the continent of 
 Africa, by the same causes. In the begin- 
 ning of December, at night, there was a ter- 
 rible earthquake at that place, and the top 
 of a new island appeared, which cast forth 
 smoke in vast quantities. The pilot of a ship, 
 who approached it, sounded on one side of this 
 island, and could not find ground at sixty 
 fathom : at tlie other side the sea was totally 
 tinged of a different colour, exhibiting a mix- 
 ture of white, blue, and green; and was very 
 shallow. This island, on its first appearance, 
 larger than it is at present; for it has 
 since that time sunk in such a manner, as to 
 be scarcely above water/ 1 
 
 a In the spring of 1783, a volcanic island was formed 
 
 about 30 miles from the south-west point of Iceland. The 
 
 I discoverer, Captain Von Lowenhorn, in the Danish service 
 
38 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 A traveller, whom these appearances could 
 not avoid affecting, speaks of them in this 
 manner : a "What can be more surprising 
 than to see fire not only break out of the bow- 
 els of the earth, but also to make itself a pas- 
 sage through the waters of the sea! What 
 can be more extraordinary, or foreign to our 
 common notions of things, than to see the bot- 
 tom of the sea rise up into a mountain above 
 the water, and become so firm an island as to 
 be able to resist the violence of the greatest 
 storms ! I know that subterraneous fires, when 
 pent in a narrow passage, are able to raise 
 up a mass of earth as large as an island : but 
 that this should be done in so regular and ex- 
 act a manner that the water of the sea should 
 not be able to penetrate and extinguish those 
 fires; that after having made so many passa- 
 ges, they should retain force enough to raise 
 the earth ; and, in fine, after having been ex- 
 tinguished, that the mass of earth should not 
 fall down, or sink again with its own weight, 
 but still remain in a manner suspended over 
 the great arch below ! This is what to me 
 seems more surprising than any thing that 
 has been related of Mount J^tna, Vesuvius, 
 or any other volcano." 
 
 Such are his sentiments : however, there 
 are few of these appearances any way more 
 extraordinary thcin those attending volcanoes 
 arid earthquakes in general. We are not more 
 to be surprised that inflammable substances 
 should be found beneath the bottom of the 
 sea, than at similar depths at land. These 
 have all the force of fire, giving expansion to 
 air, and tending to raise the earth at the bot- 
 tom of the sea, till it at length heaves above 
 water. These marine volcanoes are not so 
 frequent; for, if we may judge of the usual 
 procedure of nature, it must very often hap- 
 pen, that before the bottom of the sea is ele- 
 vated above the surface, a chasm is opened 
 in it, and then the water pressing in, extin- 
 guishes the volcano before it has time to pro- 
 
 who arrived just at the time of the first eruption, when 
 smoke and flames ascended out of the sea, relates that no 
 island or any land could be seen, from which these flames 
 could originate. No wonder, then, that he fell into the 
 greatest consternation, when, as he expresses himself, he 
 saw the waves on fire. The following year the Danish 
 government directed, that all ships bound to Iceland 
 should examine the new-formed island ; but so entirely 
 
 duce its effects. This extinction, however, 
 is not effected without very great resistance 
 from the fire beneath. The water, upon dash- 
 ing into the cavern, is very probably at first 
 ejected back with great violence ; and thus 
 some of those amazing water-spouts are seen, 
 which have so often astonished the mariner. 
 j and excited curiosity. But of these in their 
 place. 
 
 Besides the production of those islands by 
 the action of fire, there are others, as was said, 
 produced by rivers or seas carrying mud, 
 earth, and such like substances, along with 
 their currents; and at last depositing them in 
 some particular place. At the mouths of 
 most great rivers, there are to be seen banks, 
 thus formed by the sand and mud carried 
 down with the stream, which have rested at 
 that place, where the force of the current is 
 diminished by its junction with the sea. These 
 banks, by slow degrees, increase at the bot 
 torn of the deep : the water in those places, 
 is at first found by mariners to grow more 
 shallow ; the bank soon heaves up above the 
 surface ; it is considered, for a while, as a 
 tract of useless and barren sand ; but the 
 seeds of some of the more hardy vegetables 
 are driven thither by the wind, take root, and 
 thus binding the sandy surface, the whole 
 spot is clothed in time with a beautiful ver- 
 dure. In this manner there are delightful 
 and inhabited islands at the mouths of many 
 rivers, particularly the Nile, the Po, the Mis- 
 sissippi, the Ganges, and the Senegal. There 
 has been, in the memory of man, a beautiful 
 and large island formed in this manner at the 
 mouth of the river Nanquin, in China, made 
 from depositions of mud at its opening : it is 
 not less than sixty miles long, and about 
 twenty broad. La Loubere informs us, 1 * in 
 his voyage to Siam, that these sand-banks in- 
 crease every day, at the mouths of all the 
 great rivers in Asia : and hence, he asserts, 
 that the navigation up these rivers becomes 
 
 had it vanished, that none of them either saw or could 
 discover the smallest trace of it. However, towards the 
 end of the next year, a Danish ship of war, of 64 guns, was 
 wrecked on this rock ; which is now no longer visible, but 
 remains a most dangerous rock, nearly level with the sur- 
 face of the water. 
 
 a Phil. Trans, vol. v. p. 197- 
 
 b Lettres Curieuses et Edifiantes, sec. xi. p. 234. 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 39 
 
 every day more difficult, and will, at one time 
 or other, be totally obstructed. The same 
 may be remarked with regard to the Wolga, 
 which has at present seventy openings into 
 the Caspian sea; and of the Danube, which 
 has seven into the Euxine. We have had an 
 instance of the formation of a new island not 
 very long since at the mouth of the Humber, 
 in England. " It is yet within the memory of 
 man,' r says the relater,* " since it began to 
 raise its head above the ocean. It began its 
 appearance at low water, for the space of a 
 few hours, and was buried again till the next 
 tide's retreat. Thus successively it lived and 
 died, until the year 1666, when it began to 
 maintain its ground against the insult of the 
 waves, and then first invited the aid of human 
 industry. A bank was thrown about its rising 
 grounds, and being thus defended from the 
 incursions of the sea, it became firm and so- 
 lid, and, in a short time, afforded good pas- 
 turage for cattle. It is about nine miles in 
 circumference, and is worth to the proprietor 
 about eight hundred pounds a year. 1 " It would 
 be endless to mention all the islands that have 
 been thus formed, and the advantages that 
 have been derived from them. However, it 
 is frequently found, that new islands may of- 
 ten be considered as only turning the ri- 
 vers from their former beds ; so that in pro- 
 portion as land is gained at one part, it is lost 
 by the overflowing of some other. 
 
 Little, therefore, is gained by such acces- 
 sion; nor is there much more by the new is- 
 lands which are sometimes formed from the 
 spoils of the continent. Mariners assure us. 
 that there are sometimes whole plains unroot- 
 ed from the main lands, by floods and tem- 
 pests. These being carried out to sea, with 
 all their trees and animals upon them, are 
 frequently seen floating in the ocean, and ex- 
 hibiting a surprising appearance of rural tran- 
 quillity in the midst of danger. The greatest 
 part, however, having the earth at their roots 
 at length washed away, are dispersed, and their 
 animals drowned; but now and then some 
 arc (bund to brave the fury of the ocean, till 
 being stuck either among rocks or sands, 
 'hoy again take firm footing, and become per- 
 manent islands. 
 
 8 Phil Trans, vol. iv. p. 251. 
 
 As different causes have thus concurred to 
 produce new islands, so we have accounts of 
 others, that the same causes have contributed 
 to destroy. We have already seen the power 
 of earthquakes exerted in sinking whole ci- 
 ties, and leaving lakes in their room. Them 
 have been islands, and regions also, that have 
 shared the same fate ; and have sunk with 
 their inhabitants never more to be heard of 
 Thus Pausanias b tells us of an island called 
 Chryses, that was sunk near Lemnos. Plin; 
 mentions several ; among others, the island 
 of Cea, for thirty miles, having been washed 
 away, with several thousands of its inhabi- 
 tants. But of all the noted devastations of 
 this kind, the total submersion of the island 
 of Atalantis, as mentioned by Plato, has been 
 most the subject of speculation. Mankind, in 
 general, now consider the whole of his de- 
 scription as an ingenious fable ; but when fa- 
 bles are grown famous by time and authority, 
 they become an agreeable, if not a necessary, 
 part of literary information. 
 
 " About nine thousand years are passed," 
 says Plato, " since the island of Atalantis was 
 in being. The priests of Egypt were well 
 acquainted with it; and the first heroes of 
 Athens gained much glory in their wars with 
 the inhabitants. This island was as large as 
 Asia Minor and Syria united; and was situa- 
 ted beyond the Pillars of Hercules, in the At- 
 lantic ocean. The beauty of the buildings, 
 and the fertility of the soil, were far beyond 
 any thing a modern imagination can conceive: 
 gold and ivory were every where common ; 
 and the fruits of the earth offered themselves 
 without cultivation. The arts and the courage 
 of the inhabitants, were not interior to the 
 happiness of their situation; and they were 
 frequently known to make conquests, and 
 overrun the continents of Europe and Asia.'' 
 The imagination of the poetical philosopher 
 riots in the description of the natural and ac- 
 quired advantages, which they long enjoyed 
 in this charming region. " If," says he, " we 
 compare that country to our own, ours will 
 appear a mere wasted skeleton, when oppo- 
 sed to it. Their mountains, to the very tops, 
 were clothed with fertility, and poured down 
 rivers to enrich the plains below/' 
 
 b Pausanias, 1. 8. in Arcad. p. 509- ' Plato in Critia. 
 M 
 
40 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 However, all these beauties and benefits 
 were destroyed in one day by an earthquake 
 sinking the earth, and the sea overwhelming 
 it. At present not the smallest vestiges of such 
 an island are to be found ; Plato remains as 
 the only authority for its existence ; and phi- 
 losophers dispute about its situation. It is 
 not for me to enter into the controversy, when 
 there appears but little probability to support 
 the fact; and, indeed, it would be useless to 
 run back nine thousand years in search of 
 difficulties, as we are surrounded with objects 
 
 that more closely affect us, and that de- 
 mand admiration at our very doors. When 
 I consider, as Lactantius suggests, the va- 
 rious vicissitudes of nature ; lands swal- 
 lowed by yawning earthquakes, or over- 
 whelmed in the deep; rivers and lakes 
 disappearing, or dried away; mountains le- 
 velled into plains ; and plains swelling up 
 into mountains; I cannot help regarding this 
 earth as a place of every little stability; as 
 a transient abode of still more transitory 
 beings. 
 
 CHAPTER XH. 
 
 OF MOUNTAINS. 
 
 HAVING at last, in some measure, emerg- 
 ed from the deeps of the earth, we come to a 
 scene of greater splendour; the contempla- 
 tion of its external appearance. In this sur- 
 vey, its mountains are the first objects that 
 strike the imagination, and excite our curio- 
 sity. There is not, perhaps, any thing in all 
 nature that impresses an unaccustomed spec- 
 tator with such ideas of awful solemnity, as 
 these immense piles of Nature's erecting, that 
 seem to mock the minuteness of human mag- 
 nificence. 
 
 In countries where there are nothing but 
 plains, the smallest elevations are apt to ex- 
 cite wonder. In Holland, which is all a fiat, 
 they show a little ridge of hills, near the sea- 
 side, which Boerhaave generally marked out 
 to his pupils, as being mountains of no small 
 consideration. What would be the sensations 
 of such an auditory, could they at once be 
 presented with a view of the heights and pre- 
 cipices of the Alps or the Andes ! Even 
 among us in England, we have no adequate' 
 ideas of a mountain prospect; our hills are 
 generally sloping from the plain, and clothed 
 to the very top with verdure : we can scarce- 
 ly, therefore, lift our iin-.ginations to those 
 immense piles, whose tops peep up behind 
 intervening clouds, sharp and precipitate, and 
 reach to heights thit human avarice or curio- 
 sity have never been able to ascend. 
 
 We, in this part of the world, are not, for 
 that reason, so immediately interested in the 
 question which has so long been agitated 
 among philosophers, concerning what gave 
 rise to these inequalities on the surface of the 
 globe. In our own happy region, we gene- 
 rally see no inequalities but such as contri- 
 bute to use and beauty; and we therefore 
 are amazed at a question, inquiring how such 
 necessary inequalities came to be formed, 
 and seeming to express a wonder how the 
 globe comes to be so beautiful as we find it 
 But though with us there may be no great 
 cause for such a demand, yet in those places 
 where mountains deform the face of nature, 
 where they pour down cataracts, or give fury 
 to tempests, there seems to be good reason 
 for inquiry either into their causes or their uses. 
 It has been, therefore, asked by many, in what 
 manner mountains have come to be formed ; 
 or for what uses they are designed ? 
 
 To satisfy curiosity in these respects, much 
 reasoning has been employed, and very little 
 knowledge propagated. With regard to the 
 first part of the demand, the manner in which 
 mountains were formed, we have already 
 seen the conjectures of different philosophers 
 on that head. One supposing that they were 
 formed from the earth 1 ? iiroken shell at the 
 time of the deluge ; another, that they exist- 
 ed from the creation, and only acquired their 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 41 
 
 deformities in process of time ; a third, that 
 they owed their original to earthquakes ; and 
 still a fourth, with much more plausibility than 
 the rest, ascribing them entirely to the fluc- 
 tuations of the deep, which he supposes in 
 the beginning to have covered the whole 
 earth. Such as are pleased with disquisitions 
 of this kind, may consult Burnet, Winston, 
 Woodward, or Buffon. Nor would I be 
 thought to decry any mental amusements, that 
 at worst keep us innocently employed ; but, 
 for my own part, I cannot help wondering 
 how the opposite demand has never come to 
 be made ; and why philosophers have never 
 asked how we come to have plains? Plains 
 are sometimes more prejudicial to man than 
 mountains. Upon plains, an inundation has 
 greater power; the beams of the sun are often 
 collected there with suffocating fierceness; 
 they are sometimes found desert for several 
 hundred miles together, as in the country east 
 of the Caspian sea, although otherwise fruit- 
 ful, merely because there are no risings or 
 depressions to form reservoirs, or collect the 
 smallest rivulet of water. The most rational 
 answer, therefore, why either mountains or 
 plains were formed, seems to be that they 
 were thus fashioned by the hand of Wisdom, 
 in order that pain and pleasure should be so 
 contiguous, as that morality might be exer- 
 cised either in bearing the one, or communi- 
 cating the other. 
 
 Indeed, the more I consider this dispute 
 respecting the formation of mountains, the 
 more I am struck with the futility of the ques- 
 tion. There is neither a straight line, nor an 
 exact superficies, in all nature. If we con- 
 sider a circle, even with mathematical pre- 
 cision, we shall find it formed of a number of 
 small right lines, joining at angles together. 
 These angles, therefore, may be considered 
 in a circle as mountains are upon our globe ; 
 and to demand the reason for the one being 
 mountainous, or the other angular, is only to 
 ask, why a circle is a circle, or a globe is a 
 globe. In short, if there be no surface with- 
 out inequality in nature, why should we be 
 surprised that the earth has such ? It has often 
 been said, that the inequalities of its surface 
 are scarce distinguishable, if compared to its 
 magnitude; and ! think we have every reason 
 to be content with the answer. 
 
 Some, however, have avoided the difficulty 
 by urging the final cause. They allege, that 
 mountains have been formed merely because 
 they are useful to man. This carries the in- 
 quirer but a part of the way ; for no one 
 can affirm, that in all places they are useful. 
 The contrary is known, by horrid experience, 
 in those valleys that are subject to their in- 
 fluence. However, as the utility of any part 
 of our earthly habitation is a very pleasing 
 and flattering speculation to every philoso- 
 pher, it is not to be wondered that much has 
 been said to prove the usefulness of these. 
 For this purpose many conjectures have been 
 made, that have received a degree of assent 
 even beyond their evidence; for men were 
 unwilling to become more miserably wise. 
 
 It has been alleged, as one principal ad- 
 vantage that we derive from them, that they 
 serve, like hoops or ribs, to strengthen our 
 earth, and to bind it together. In conse- 
 quence of this theory, Kircher has given us a 
 map of the earth, in this manner hooped with 
 its mountains ; which might have a much 
 more solid foundation, did it entirely corres- 
 pond with truth. 
 
 Others haVe found a different use for them. 
 ! especially when they run surrounding our 
 globe ; which is, that they stop the vapours 
 which are continually travelling from the 
 equator to the poles ; for these being urged 
 by the heat of the sun, from the warm regions 
 of the line, must all be accumulated at the 
 poles, if they were not stopped in their way 
 by those high ridges of mountains which cross 
 their direction. But an answer to this may 
 be, that all the great mountains in America 
 lie lengthwise, and therefore do not cross 
 their direction. 
 
 But to leave these remote advantages, 
 others assert, that not only the animal but 
 vegetable part of the creation would perish 
 for want of convenient humidity, were it not 
 for their friendly assistance. Their summits 
 are, by these, supposed to arrest, as it were, 
 the vapours which float in the regions of the 
 'heir large inflections and channels are 
 
 air. 
 
 considered as so many basons prepared for 
 the reception of those thick vapours, and im- 
 petuous rains, which descend into them. The 
 huge caverns beneath are so many magazines 
 or conservatories of water for the peculiar 
 
42 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 e of man ; and those orifices by which 
 Ihe water is discharged upon the plain, are 
 so situated as to enrich and render them 
 fruitful, instead of returning through subter- 
 raneous channels to the sea, after the perform- 
 ance of a tedious and fruitless circulation. 3 
 
 However this be, certain it is, that almost 
 all our great rivers find their source among 
 mountains ; and, in general, the more exten- 
 sive the mountain, the greater the river: thus 
 the river Amazon, the greatest in the world, 
 has its source among the Andes, which are 
 the highest mountains on the globe ; the ri- 
 ver Niger travels a long course of several 
 hundred miles from the mountains of the 
 Moon, the highest in all Africa; and the Da- 
 nube and the Rhine proceed from the Alps, 
 which are probably the highest mountains of 
 Europe. 
 
 It needs scarcely be said, that, with respect 
 to height, there are many sizes of mountains, 
 from the gently rising upland, to the tall crag- 
 
 y precipice. The appearance is in general 
 ifferent in those of different magnitudes. The 
 first are clothed with verdure to the very tops, 
 and only seem to ascend to improve our pros- 
 pects, or supply us with a purer air : but the 
 lofty mountains of the oilier class have a very 
 different aspect. At a distance their tops are 
 seen, in wavy ridges, of the very colour of the 
 clouds, and only to be distinguished from 
 them by their figure; which, as I have said, 
 resembles the billows of the sea. b As we ap- 
 proach, the mountain assumes a deeper co- 
 lour ; it gathers upon the sky, and seems to 
 hide half the horizon behind it. Its summits 
 also are become more distinct, and appear 
 with a broken and perpendicular line. What 
 at first seemed a single hill, is now found to 
 be a chain of continued mountains, whose 
 tops running along in ridges, are embosomed 
 in each other; so that the curvatures of one 
 are fitted to the prominences of the opposite 
 side, and form a winding valley between, of- 
 ten of several miles in extent ; and all the 
 way continuing nearly of the same breadth. 
 
 Nothing can be finer, or more exact, than 
 Mr. Pope's description of a traveller stniining 
 tip the Alps. Every mountain he comes to 
 
 a Nature Displayed, vol. iii. p. 88. 
 
 h Lettres 1'hiloFophiques sur la Formation, & r r. p. IOC. 
 
 he thinks will be the last; he finds, however, 
 an unexpected hill rise before him ; and thaf 
 being scaled, he finds the highest summit al- 
 most at as great a distance as before. Upon 
 quitting the plain, he might have left a green 
 and fertile soil, and a climate warm and pleas- 
 ing. As he ascends, the ground assumes a 
 more russet colour; the grass becomes more 
 mossy, and the weather more moderate. Still 
 as he ascends, the weather becomes more 
 cold, and the earth more barren. In this dreary 
 passage he is often entertained with a little 
 valley of surprising verdure, caused by the 
 reflected heat of the sun collected into a nar- 
 row spot on the surrounding heights. But it 
 much more frequently happens that he sees 
 only frightful precipices beneath, and lakes of 
 amazing depths; from whence rivers are 
 formed, and fountains derive their original. 
 On those places next the highest summits, 
 vegetation is scarcely carried on ; here and 
 there a few plants of the most hardy kind ap- 
 pear. The air is intolerably cold ; either 
 continually refrigerated with frosts, or dis- 
 turbed with tempests. All the ground here 
 wears an eternal covering of ice, and snows 
 that seem constantly accumulating. Upon 
 emerging from this war of the elements, he 
 ascends into a purer and serener region, 
 where vegetation is entirely ceased ; where 
 the precipices, composed entirely of rocks, 
 rise perpendicularly above him ; while he 
 views beneath him all the combat of the ele- 
 ments; clouds at his feet, and thunders dart- 
 ing upwards from their bosoms below." A 
 thousand meteors, which are never seen on 
 the plain, present themselves. Circular rain- 
 bows;* 1 mock suns; the shadow of the moun- 
 tain projected upon the body of the air : e and 
 the traveller's own image, reflected as in a 
 looking-glass, upon the opposite cloud/ 
 
 Such are, in general, the wonders that pre- 
 sent themselves to a traveller in bis journey 
 either over the Alps or the Andes. But we 
 must not suppose that this picture exhibits 
 either a constant or an invariable likeness of 
 those stupendous heights. Indeed, nothing 
 can be more capricious or irregular than the 
 forms of many of them. The tops of some 
 
 Ulloa. vol. i. d Ibid. 
 
 Phil. Trans, vol. v. p. 152. f Ulloa, vol. i. 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 43 
 
 run in ridges for a considerable length, 
 without interruption ; in others, the line seems 
 indented by great valleys to an amazing 
 depth. Sometimes a solitary and a single 
 mountain rises from the bosom of the plain ; 
 and sometimes extensive plains, and even 
 provinces, as those of Savoy and Quito, are 
 found embosomed near tops of mountains. 
 In general, however, those countricsthat are 
 most mountainous, are the most barren and 
 uninhabitable. 
 
 If we compare the heights of mountains 
 with each other, we shall lind that the great- 
 est and highest are found under the line." It 
 is thought by some, that the rapidity of the 
 earth's motion in these parts, together with 
 the greatness of the tides there, may have 
 thrown >up those stupendous masses of earth. 
 But, be the cause as it may, it is a remarka- 
 ble fact, that the inequalities of the earth's 
 surface are greatest there. Near the poles, 
 the earth, indeed, is craggy and uneven 
 enough; but the heights of the mountains 
 there are very inconsiderable. On the con- 
 trary, at the equator, where nature seems to 
 sport in the amazing size of all her produc- 
 tions, the plains are extensive, and the moun- 
 tains remarkably lofty. Some of them are 
 known to rise three miles perpendicular above 
 the bed of the ocean. 
 
 To enumerate the most remarkable of these, 
 according to their size, we shall begin with 
 the Andes, of which we have an excellent de- 
 scription by Ulloa, who wont thither by com- 
 mand of the king of Spain, in company with 
 the French Academicians, to measure a de- 
 gree of the meridian. His journey up these 
 mountains is too curious not to give an ex- 
 tract from it. 
 
 After many incommodious days sailing up 
 the river Guayaquil, he arrived at Caracol, a 
 town situated at the foot of the Andes. No- 
 thing could exceed the inconveniences which 
 ho experienced in this voyage, from the flies 
 and moschotoes, (an animal resembling our 
 gnat.) " We were the whole day," says he, 
 " in continual motion to keep them off; but 
 at night our torments were excessive. Our 
 gloves, indeed, were some defence to our 
 hands; but our faces were entirely exposed; 
 
 Kuftbn, passim. 
 NO. 5. 
 
 nor were our clothes a sufficient defence for 
 the rest of our bodies ; for their stings pene- 
 trating through the cloth, caused a very pain- 
 ful and fiery itching. One night, in coming 
 to an anchor near a large and handsome house 
 that was uninhabited, we had no sooner seat- 
 ed ourselves in it, than we were attacked on 
 all sides by swarms of moschetoes, so that it 
 was impossible to have one moment's quiet. 
 Those who had covered themselves with 
 clothes made for this purpose, found not the 
 smallest defence ; wherefore, hoping to find 
 some relief in the open fields, we ventured 
 out, though in danger of suffering in a more 
 terrible manner from the serpents. But both 
 places were equally obnoxious. On quitting 
 this inhospitable retreat, we the next night 
 took up our quarters in a house that was in- 
 habited ; the host of which being informed of 
 the terrible manner we had past the night bc- 
 fore, gravely told us, that the house we so 
 greatly complained of, had been forsaken on 
 account of its being the purgatory of a soul. 
 But we had more reason to believe that it 
 was quitted on account of its being the pur- 
 gatory of the body. After having journeyed 
 for upwards of three days, through boggy 
 roads, in which the mules at every step sunk 
 up to their bellies, we began at length to per- 
 ceive an alteration in the climate; and hav- 
 ing been long accustomed to heat, we now 
 began to feel it grow sensibly colder. 
 
 " It is remarkable, that at Tariguagua we 
 often see instances of the effects of two op- 
 posite temperatures, in two persons happen- 
 ing to meet; one of them leaving the plains 
 below, and the other descending from the 
 mountain. The former thinks the cold so se- 
 vere, that he wraps himself up in all the gar- 
 ments he can procure ; while the latter finds 
 the heat so great, that he is scarce able to 
 bear any clothes whatsoever. The one thinks 
 the water so cold, that he avoids being sprink- 
 led by it; the ofher is so delighted with its 
 warmth, that he uses it as a bath. Nor is the 
 ease very different in the same person, who 
 experiences the same diversity of sensation 
 upon his journey up, and upon his return. 
 This difference only proceeds from the change 
 naturally felt at leaving a climate to which 
 one has been accustomed, and coming into 
 another of an opposite tempeniture. 
 
 N 
 
44 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 ; The ruggedness of the road from Tarigu- 
 agua, leading up the mountain, is not easily 
 described. In some parts, the declivity is so 
 great, that the mules can scarcely keep their 
 tooting; and in others, the acclivity is equally 
 difficult. The trouble of having people going 
 before to mend the road, the pains arising 
 from the many falls and bruises, and the being 
 constantly wet to the skin, might be support- 
 ed, were not these inconveniences augmented 
 by the sight of such frightful precipices, and 
 deep abysses, as must fill the mind with 
 ceaseless terror. There are some places 
 where the road is so steep, and yet so nar- 
 roAV, that the mules are obliged to slide down, 
 without making any use of their feet whatso- 
 ever. On one side of the rider, in this situa- 
 tion, rises an eminence of several hundred 
 yards ; and on the other, an abyss of equal 
 depth ; so that if he in the least checks his 
 mule, so as to destroy the equilibrium, they 
 both must unavoidably perish. 
 
 " After having travelled about nine days in 
 this manner, slowly winding along the side of 
 the mountain, we began to find the whole 
 country covered with an hoar frost; and an 
 hut, in which we lay, had ice on it. Having 
 escaped many perils, we at length, after a 
 journey of fifteen days, arrived upon the plain, 
 on the extremity of which stand* the city of 
 Quito, the capital of one of the most charming 
 regions upon earth. Here, in the centre of 
 the torrid zone, the heat is not only very 
 tolerable, but in some places the cold also is 
 painful. Here they enjoy all the temperature 
 and advantages of perpetual spring; their 
 fields being always covered with verdure, and 
 enamelled with flowers of the most lively co- 
 lours. However, although this beautiful re- 
 gion be higher than any other country in the 
 world, and although it took up so many days 
 of painful journey in the ascent, it is still 
 overlooked by tremendous mountains ; their 
 sides covered with snow, and yet flaming 
 with volcanoes at the top. These seemed 
 piled one upon the other, and rise to a most 
 astonishing height, with great coldness. How- 
 ever, at a determined point above the surface 
 of the sea, the congelation is found at the 
 same height in all the mountains. Those 
 parts which are not subject to a continual 
 frost, have here and there growing upon them 
 
 a rush, resembling the genista, but much more 
 soft and flexible. Towards the extremity of 
 the part where the rush grows, and the cold 
 begins to increase, is found a vegetable, with 
 a round bulbous head, which, when dried, 
 becomes of amazing elasticity. Higher up, 
 the earth is entirely bare of vegetation, and 
 seems covered with eternal snow. The 
 most remarkable mountains are, that of Co- 
 topaxi, (already described as a volcano,) 
 Chimborazo, and Pinchincha. Colopaxi is 
 more than three geographical miles above 
 the surface of the sea: the rest are not much 
 inferior. On the top of the latter was my 
 station for measuring a degree of the meri- 
 dian; where I suffered particular hardships, 
 from the intenseness of the cold, and the vio- 
 lence of the storms. The sky round was, in 
 general, involved in thick fogs, which, when 
 they cleared away, and the clouds, by their 
 gravity, moved nearer to the suriace of the 
 earth, they appeared surrounding the loot of 
 the mountain, at a vast distance below, like a 
 sea, encompassing an island in the midst of 
 it. When this happened, the horrid noises of 
 tempests were heard from beneath, then dis- 
 charging themselves on Quito, and the neigh- 
 bouring country. I saw the lightnings issue 
 from the clouds, and heard the thunders roll 
 far beneath me. All this time, vshile the tem- 
 pest was raging below, the mountain top, 
 where I was placed, enjoyed a delightful se- 
 renity; the wind was abated; the sky clear; 
 and the enlivening rays of the sun moderated 
 the severity of the cold. However, this was 
 of no very long duration, for the wind returned 
 with all its violence, and with such velocity 
 as to dazzle the sight; whilst my fears were 
 increased by the dreadful concussions of the 
 precipice, and the fall of enormous rocks ; 
 the only sounds that were heard in this fright- 
 ful situation." 
 
 Such is the animated picture of those moun 
 tains, as given us by this ingenious Spaniard : 
 and I believe the reader will wish that 1 had 
 made the quotation still longer. A passage 
 over the Alps, or a journey across the Pyre- 
 nees, appear petty trips or excursions in the 
 comparison; and yet these are the most lofty 
 mountains we know of in Europe. 
 
 If we compare the Alps with the mountains 
 already described, we shall find them but lit- 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 tie more than one half of the height of the 
 former. The Andes, upon being measured 
 by the barometer, are found above three 
 thousand one hundred and thirty-six toises 
 or fathoms above the surface of the sea." 
 Whereas the highest point of the Alps is 
 not above sixteen hundred. The one, in 
 other words, is above three miles high ; the 
 other about a mile and a half. The highest 
 mountains in Asia are Mount Taurus, Mount 
 Immaus, Mount Caucasus, and the mountains 
 of Japan. Of these, none equals the Andes 
 in height ; although Mount Caucasus, which 
 is the highest of them, makes very near ap- 
 proaches. Father Verbiest tells of a moun- 
 tain in China, which he measured, and found 
 a mile and a half high. b In Africa, the moun- 
 tains of the Moon, famous for giving source 
 to the Niger and the Nile, are rather more 
 noted than known. Of the Peak of Teneriffe, 
 one of the Canary Islands that lie off this 
 coast, we have more certain information. In 
 the year 1727, it was visited by a company 
 of English merchants, who travelled up to the 
 top, where they observed its height, and the 
 volcano on its very summit. They found it 
 a heap of mountains, the highest of which ri- 
 ses over the rest like a sugar-loaf, and gives 
 a name to the whole mass. It is computed to 
 be a mile and a half perpendicular from the 
 surface of the sea. Kircher gives us an esti- 
 mate of the heights of most of the other great 
 mountains in the world; but as he has taken 
 his calculations in general from the ancients, 
 or from modern travellers, who had not the 
 art of measuring them, they are quite incredi- 
 ble. The art of taking the heights of places 
 by the barometer, is a new and ingenious in- 
 vention. As the air grows lighter as we as- 
 cend, the fluid in the tube rises in due pro- 
 portion : thus the instrument being properly 
 marked, gives the height with a tolerable de- 
 gree of exactness ; at least enough to satisfy 
 curiosity. 
 
 Few of our great mountains have been es- 
 timated in this manner; travellers having, 
 perhaps, been deterred, by a supposed im- 
 possibility of breathing at the top. However, 
 it has been invariably found, that the air in 
 the highest that our modern travellers have 
 
 Ulloa, vol. i. p. 442 
 
 ascended, is not at all too fine for respiration. 
 At the top of the Peak of Teneriffe, there was 
 found no other inconvenience from the air, 
 except its coldness ; at the top of the Andes, 
 there was no difficulty of brea tiling perceived. 
 The accounts, therefore, of those w^ho have 
 asserted that they were unable to breathe, 
 although at much less heights, are greatly to 
 be suspected. In fact, it is very natural for 
 mankind to paint those obstacles as insur- 
 mountable, which they themselves have not 
 had the fortitude or perseverance to sur- 
 mount. 
 
 The difficulty and danger of ascending to 
 the tops of mountains, proceeds from other 
 causes, not the thinness of the air. For in- 
 stance, some of the summits of the Alps have 
 never yet been visited by man. But the rea- 
 son is, that they rise with such a rugged and 
 precipitate ascent, that they are utterly inac- 
 cessible. In some places they appear like 
 a great wall of six or seven hundred feel 
 high ; in others, there stick out enormous 
 rocks, that hang upon the brow of the steep, 
 and every moment threaten destruction to the 
 traveller below. 
 
 In this manner almost all the tops of the 
 highest mountains are bare and pointed. And 
 this naturally proceeds from their being so 
 continually assaulted by thunders and tem- 
 pests. All the earthy substances with which 
 they might have been once covered, have for 
 ages been washed away from their summits ; 
 and nothing is left remaining but immense 
 rocks, which no tempest has hitherto been 
 able to destroy. 
 
 Nevertheless, time is every day, and every 
 hour, making depredations; and huge frag- 
 ments are seen tumbling down the precipice, 
 either loosened from the summit by frost or 
 rains, or struck down by lightning. Nothing 
 can exhibit a more terrible picture than one 
 of these enormous rocks, commonly larger 
 than a house, falling from its height, with a 
 noise louder than thunder, and rolling down 
 the side of the mountain. Doctor Plot tells 
 us of one in particular, which being loosened 
 from its bed, tumbled down the precipice, and 
 was partly shattered into a thousand pieces. 
 Notwithstanding, one of the largest frag- 
 
 b Verbiest, a la Chine. c Phil. Trans, vol. \. 
 
46 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 ments of the same, still preserving its motion, 
 'travelled over the plain below, crossed a ri- 
 vulet in the midst, and at last stopped on the 
 other side of the bank ! These fragments, as 
 was said, arc often struck offby lightning, and 
 sometimes undermined by rains ; but the most 
 usual manner in which they are disunited from 
 the mountain, is by frost : the rains insinua- 
 ting between the interstices of the mountain, 
 continue there until there comes a frost, and 
 then, when converted into ice, the water swells 
 with an irresistible force, and produces the 
 same effect as gunpowder, splitting the most 
 solid rocks, and thus shattering the summits 
 of the mountain. 
 
 But not rocks alone, but whole mountains 
 are, by various causes, disunited from each 
 other. We see in many parts of the Alps, 
 amazing clefts, the sides of which so exactly 
 correspond with the opposite, that no doubt 
 can be made of their having been once joined 
 together. At Cajeta," in Italy, a mountain was 
 split in this manner by an earthquake ; and 
 there is a passage opened through it, that ap- 
 pears as if elaborately done by the industry 
 of man. In the Andes these breaches are 
 frequently seen. That at Thermopyle, in 
 Greece, has been long famous. The mountain 
 of the Troglodytes, in Arabia, .has thus a pas- 
 sage through it : and that in Savoy, which na- 
 ture began, and which Victor Amadeus com- 
 pleted, is an instance of the same kind. 
 
 We have accounts of some of these disrup- 
 tions, immediately after their happening. " In 
 the month of June, b in the year 1714, a part 
 of the mountain of Diableret, in the district of 
 Valais, in France, suddenly fell down between 
 two and three o'clock in the afternoon, the 
 Aveather being very calm and serene. It 
 was of a conical figure, and destroyed fifty- 
 five cottages in the fall. Fifteen persons, to- 
 gether with about a hundred beasts, were 
 also crushed beneath its ruins, which cover- 
 ed an extent of a good league square. The 
 dust it occasioned instantly covered all the 
 neighbourhood in darkness. The heaps of 
 rubbish were more than three hundred feet 
 high. They stopped the current of a river 
 that ran along the plain, which is now form- 
 ed into several new and deep lakes. There 
 
 " Burton, vol. ii. p. 364. 
 
 appeared, through the whole of this rubbish, 
 none of those substances that seemed to indi- 
 cate that this disruption had been by means 
 of subterraneous fires. Most probably, the 
 base of this rocky mountain was rotted and 
 decayed ; and thus fell, without any extrane- 
 ous violence." In the same manner, in the 
 year 1018, the town ofPleurs, in France, v>as 
 buried beneath a rocky mountain, at the ion) 
 of which it was situated. 
 
 These accidents, and many more that might 
 be enumerated of the same kind, have been 
 produced by various causes; by earthquakes, 
 as in the mountain at Cajeta; or by being de- 
 cayed at the bottom, as at Diableret. But 
 the most general way is, by the foundation of 
 one part of the mountain being hollowed by 
 waters, and thus wanting a support, breaking 
 from the other. Thus it generally has been 
 found in the great chasms in the Alps; and 
 thus it almost always is known in those dis- 
 ruptions of hills, which are known by the 
 name of land-slips. These are nothing more 
 than the slidings down of a higher piece- of 
 ground, disrooted from its situation by sub- 
 terraneous inundations, and settling itself 
 upon the plain below. 
 
 There is not an appearance in all nature 
 that so much astonished our ancestors, as 
 these land-slips. In fact, to behold a large 
 upland with its houses, its corn, and cattle,"at 
 once loosened from its place, and iloating, as 
 it were, upon the subjacent water ; to behold 
 it quitting its ancient situation, and travelling 
 forward like a ship in quest of new adven- 
 tures; this is certainly one of the most extra- 
 ordinary appearances that can be imagined; 
 and (o a people, ignorant of the powers of na- 
 ture, might well be considered as a prodigy. 
 Accordingly, we find all our old historians 
 mentioning it as an omen of approaching ca- 
 lamities. In this more enlightened age. how- 
 ever, its cause is very well known; and, in- 
 stead of exciting ominous apprehensions in 
 the populace, it only gives rise to some very 
 ridiculous law-suits among them, about whose 
 the property shall be; whether the land 
 which has thus slipt shall belong to the origi- 
 nal possessor, or to him upon whose grounds 
 it has encroached and settled. What has 
 
 b Hist, de 1'Academie dcs Sciences, p. 4. an. 1715. 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 ',7 
 
 been the determination of the judges, is not 
 so well known, but the circumstances of the 
 slips have been minutely and: exactly de- 
 scribed. 
 
 In the lands of Slatberg, a in the kingdom of 
 Iceland, there stood a declivity, gradually 
 ascending for near half a mile. In the year 
 ,1713, and on the 10th of March, the inhabi- 
 tants perceived a crack on its side, somewhat 
 like a furrow made with a plough, which they 
 imputed to the effects of lightning, as there 
 had been thunder the night before. How- 
 e\er, on the evening of the same day, they 
 were surprised to hear an hideous confused 
 noise issuing all round from the side of the 
 hill; and their curiosity being raised, they 
 resorted to the place. There, to their amaze- 
 ment, they found the earth, for near five acres, 
 all in gentle motion, and sliding down the hill 
 upon the subjacent plain. This motion con- 
 tinued the remaining part of the day, and the 
 whole night Aor did the noise cease, during 
 the whole time ; proceeding, probably, from 
 the attrition of the ground beneath. The day 
 following, however, this stras-ge journey down 
 the hill ceased entirely; and above an acre 
 of the meadow below was found covered 
 whut before composed a part of the de- 
 clivity. 
 
 i lowevcr, these slips, when a whole moun- 
 tain's side seems to descend, happen but very 
 rar.-ly. There are some of another kind, 
 ever, much more co;n;:ion; and, as they 
 are always sudden, much more dangerous. 
 These are snow-slips, well known, and great- 
 ly dreaded by travellers. It often happens, 
 that when snow has long been accumulated 
 on the tops and on the sides of mountains, it 
 is borne down the precipice, either by means 
 of tempests, or its own m-'-Hing. At first, when 
 loosened, the volume in motion is but small ; 
 but gathers as it continues to roll ; and, by 
 the time it has reached the habitabfc parts of 
 the mountain, is generally grown of enormous 
 bulk. Wherever it rolls, it levels all things 
 
 Phil. TYaus. vol. iv. p. U30. 
 
 in its way; or buries them in unavoidable 
 destruction. Instead of rolling, it someti;ne> 
 is found to slide along from the top; yet e\e i 
 thus it is generally as fatal as before. Never- 
 theless, we have had an instance, a few years 
 ago, of a small family in Germany, that lived 
 for above a fortnight beneath one of these 
 snow-slips. Although they were buried, du- 
 ring that whole time, in utter darkness, and 
 under a bed of some hundred feet deep, yet 
 they were luckily taken out alive; the weight 
 of the snow being supported by a beam that 
 kept up the roof; and nourishment being sup- 
 plied them by the milk of an ass, if I remem- 
 ber right, that was buried under the same 
 ruin. 
 
 But it is not the parts alone that are^ thus 
 found to subside, whole mountains have been 
 known totally to disappear. Pliny tells us, b 
 that in his own time the lofty mountain of 
 Cybotus, together with the city of Eurites, 
 were swallowed by aa earthquake. The same 
 fate, he says, attended Phlegium, one of the 
 highest mountains in Ethiopia; which, after 
 one night's concussion, was never seen more. 
 In more modern times, a very noted moun- 
 tain in the Molucca islands, known by the 
 name of the Peak, and remarkable for being 
 seen at a very great distance from sea, was 
 swallowed by an earthquake; and nothing 
 but a lake was left in the place where it stood. 
 Thus, while storms arid tempests are levelled 
 against mountains above, earthquakes and 
 waters are undermining them below. All our 
 histories talk of their destruction ; and very 
 few new ones (if we except mount Cenere. and 
 one or two such heaps of cinders,) arc produ- 
 ced. If mountains, therefore, were of such great 
 utility, as some philosophers make them, to 
 mankind, it would be. a very melancholy con- 
 sideration that such benefits were diminishing 
 every day. But the truth is, the valleys are 
 fertilized by that earth which is washed from 
 their sides; and (he plains become richer, in 
 proportion as the mountains decay. 
 
 b Plin. lib. ii. cap. P. : J. 
 
48 
 
 A HISTORY OP 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 OF WATER. 
 
 IN contemplating nature, we shall often find 
 the same substances possessed of contrary 
 qualities, and producing opposite effects. Air, 
 which liquefies one substance, dries up ano- 
 ther. That fire which is seen to burn up the 
 desert, is often found, in other places, to assist 
 the luxuriance of vegetation; and water, 
 which, next to fire, is the most fluid substance 
 upon earth, nevertheless gives all other bo- 
 dies their firmness and durability ; so that 
 every element seems to be a powerful servant, 
 capable either of good or ill, and only await- 
 ing external direction, to become the friend 
 or the enemy of mankind. These opposite 
 qualities, in this substance in particular, 
 have not failed to excite the admiration and 
 inquiry of the curious. 
 
 That water is the most fluid penetrating 
 body, next to fire, and the most difficult to 
 confine, is incontestably proved by a vari- 
 ety of experiments. A vessel through which 
 water cannot pass, may be said to retain any 
 thing. It may be objected, indeed, that syrups, 
 oils, and honey, leak through some vessels 
 that water cannot pass through ; but this is 
 far from facing the result of the greater tenuity 
 and fineness of their parts ; it is owing to 
 the rosin wherewith the wood of such vessels 
 abounds, which oils and syrups have a power 
 of dissolving; so that these fluids, instead of 
 finding their way, may more properly be said 
 to eat their way through the vessels that con- 
 tain them. However, water will at last find its 
 way even through these ; for it is known to 
 ascape through vessels of every substance, 
 glass only excepted. Other bodies may be 
 ifound to make their way out more readily in- 
 deed ; as air, when it finds a vent, will escape 
 at once; and quicksilver, because of its weight, 
 quickly penetrates through whatever chinky 
 vessel confines it : but water, though it oper- 
 ates more slowly, yet always finds a more cer- 
 tain issue. As, for instance, it. is well known 
 that air will not pass through leather ; which 
 water will very readily penetrate. Air also 
 
 may be retained in a bladder; but water will 
 quickly ooze through. And those who drive 
 this to the greatest degree of precision, pre- 
 tend to say, that it will pass through pores 
 ten times smaller than air can do. Be this as 
 it may, we are very certain that its parts are 
 so small that they have been actually driven 
 through the pores of gold. This has been 
 proved by the famous Florentine experiment, 
 in which a quantity of water was shut up in a 
 hollow ball of gold, and then pressed with a 
 huge force by screws, during which the fluid 
 was seen to ooze out through the pores of the 
 metal, and to stand, like a dew, upon its sur- 
 face. 
 
 As water is thus penetrating, and its parts 
 thus minute, it may easily be supposed that 
 they enter into the composition of all bodies, 
 vegetable, animal, and fossil. This every chy- 
 mist's experience convinces him of; and the 
 mixture is the more obvious, as it can always 
 be separated, by a gentle heat, from those 
 substances with which it had been united. 
 Fire, as was said, will penetrate where water 
 cannot pass ; but then it is not so easily to be 
 separated. But there is scarce any substance 
 from which its water cannot be divorced. 
 The parings or filings of lead, tin, and antimo- 
 ny, by distillation, yield water plentifully : the 
 hardest stones, sea-salt, nitre, vitriol, and sul- 
 phur, are found to consist chiefly of water; 
 into which they resolve by force of fire. "All 
 birds, beasts, and fishes," says Newton, " in- 
 sects, trees, and vegetables, with their parts, 
 grow from water ; and, by putrefaction, return 
 to water again." In short, almost every sub- 
 stance that we see, owes its texture and firm- 
 ness to the parts of water that mix with its 
 earth ; and, deprived of this fluid, it becomes 
 a mass of shapeless dust and ashes. 
 
 From hence we see, as was above hinted, 
 that this most fluid body, when mixed with 
 others, gives them consistence and form. Wa- 
 ter, by being mixed with earth or ashes, and 
 formed into a vessel, when baked before the 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 49 
 
 fire, becomes a coppel, remarkable for this, 
 that it will bear the utmost force of the hot- 
 test furnace that art can contrive. So the 
 Chinese earth, of which porcelain is made, is 
 nothing more than an artificial composition of 
 earth and water, united by heat; and which 
 a greater degree of heat could easily separate. 
 Tli us we see a body, extremely fluid of it- 
 self, in some measure assuming a new nature, 
 l>y being united with others : we see a body, 
 whose fluid and dissolving qualities are so ob- 
 * ious, giving consistence and hardness to all 
 ihe substances of the earth. 
 
 From considerations of this kind, Thales, 
 and many of the ancient philosophers, held 
 that all things were made of water. In order 
 to confirm this opinion, Helmont made an ex- 
 periment, by divesting a quantity of earth of 
 all its oils and salts, and then putting this 
 earth, so prepared, into an earthen pot, which 
 nothing but rain-water could enter, and plant- 
 ing a willow therein ; this vegetable, so plant- 
 ed, grew up to a considerable height and 
 bulk, merely from the accidental aspersion 
 of rain-water; while the earth, in which it 
 v/as planted, received no sensible diminution. 
 From this experiment, he concluded, that 
 water was the only nourishment of the vege- 
 table tribe; and that vegetables, being the 
 nourishment of animals, all organized sub- 
 stances, therefore, owed their support and 
 being only to water. But this has been said 
 by Woodward to be a mistake: for he shows, 
 that water being impregnated with earthy 
 particles, is only the conveyer of such substan- 
 ces into the pores of vegetables, rather than 
 an increaser of them by its own bulk : and 
 likewise, that water is ever found to afford 
 so much less nourishment, in proportion as it 
 is purified by distillation. A plant in distil- 
 led water will not grow so fast as in water not 
 dis'.illed: and if the same be distilled three 
 or four times over, the plant will scarcely grow 
 ut all, or receive any nourishment 1'rom it. So 
 that water, as such, does not seem the proper 
 nourishment of vegetables, but only the vehi- 
 cle thereof, which contains the nutritious par- 
 ticles, and carries them through all parts of 
 
 Hill's History of Fossils. 
 
 '' Hermetically sealing a glass vessel, means no more 
 tlian beating the mouth of the phial red hot ; and thus, 
 
 the plant. Water, in its pure state, may suf- 
 fice to extend or swell the parts of a plant, 
 but affords vegetable matter in a moderate 
 proportion. 
 
 However this be, it is agreed on all sides, 
 that water, such as we find it, is far from being 
 a pure simple substance. The most genuine 
 we know is mixed with exhalations and disso- 
 lutions of various kinds ; and no expedient 
 that has been hitherto discovered, is capable 
 of purifying it entirely. If we filter and distil 
 it a thousand times, according to Boerhaave, 
 it will still depose a sediment : and by repeat- 
 ing the process we may evaporate it entirely 
 away, but can never totally remove its impu- 
 rities. Some, however, assert, that water, 
 properly distilled, will have no sediment ; a and 
 that the little white speck which is found at 
 the bottom of the still, is a substance that en- 
 ters from without. Kircher used to show in 
 his Museum, a phiai of water, that had been 
 kept for fifty years, hermetically sealed ; b du- 
 ring which it had deposed no sediment, but 
 continued as transparent as when first it was 
 put in. How far, therefore, it may be brought 
 to a state of purity by distillation, is unknown; 
 but we very well know, that all such water 
 as we every where see, is a bed in which 
 plants, minerals, and animals, are all found 
 confusedly floating together. 
 
 Rain-water, which is a fluid of Nature's own 
 distilling, and which has been raised so high 
 by evaporation, is nevertheless a very mixed 
 and impure substance. Exhalations of all 
 kinds, whether salts, sulphurs, or metals, make 
 a part of its substance, and tend to increase 
 its weight. If we gather the water that falls, 
 after a thunder-clap, in a sultry summers day, 
 and let it settle, we shall find a real salt stick- 
 ing at the bottom. In winter, however, its 
 impure mixtures are fewer, but still may be 
 separated by distillation. But as to that which 
 is generally caught pouring from the tops of 
 houses, it is particularly foul, being impreg- 
 nated with the smoke ol the chimneys, the va- 
 pour of the slates or tiles, and with other im- 
 purities that birds and animals may have de- 
 posited there. Besides, though it should be 
 
 when the glass is become pliant, squeezing the mouth to- 
 gether with a pair of pincers, and then twisting it six or 
 seven times round, 'vhich effectually closes it up. 
 
A HISTORY OF 
 
 supposed live iVoin all these, it is mixed with 
 u quantityof air, which, after being kept for 
 some time, will be seen to separate. 
 
 Spring-water is next in point of purity. This, 
 according to Dr. Halley, is collected from the 
 air itself; which being sated with ^yater, and 
 coming to be condensed by the evening's cold, 
 is driven against the tops of the mountains, 
 where being condensed and collected, it 
 trickles down by the sides, into the cavities 
 of the earth ; and running for a while under- 
 ground,bubbles up in fountains upon the plain. 
 This having made but a short circulation, has 
 generally had no long time to dissolve or im- 
 bibe any foreign substances by the way. 
 
 River-water is generally more foul than the 
 former. Wherever the stream flows, it re- 
 ceives a tincture from its channel. Plants, 
 minerals, and animals, all contribute to add 
 to its impurities : so that such as live at the 
 mouths of great rivers, are generally subject 
 to all those disorders which contaminated and 
 unwholesome waters are known to produce. 
 Of all the river-water in the world, that of the 
 Indus and the Thames is said to be the most 
 light and wholesome. 
 
 The most impure fresh water that we know, 
 is that of stagnating pools and lakes, * Inch, 
 in summer, may be more properly considered 
 as a jelly of floating insects, than a collection 
 of water. In this, millions of little reptiles, 
 undisturbed by any current, which might crush 
 their frames to pieces, breed and engender. 
 The whole teems with shapeless life, and 
 only grows more fruitful by increasing putre- 
 faction. 
 
 Of the purity of all these waters, the light- 
 ness, and not the transparency, ought f o be 
 the test. Water may be extremely ck a.r and 
 beautiful to the eye, and yet very much im- 
 pregnated with mineral particles. In fact, 
 sea-water is the most transparent of any, and 
 yet it is well known to contain a large mix- 
 ture of salt and bitumen. On the contrary, 
 those waters which are lightest, have the few- 
 est dissolutions floating in them ; and may, 
 therefore, be the most useful for all the pur- 
 poses of life. But, after all, though much has 
 been said upon this subject, and although wa- 
 ters have been weighed with great assiduity, 
 to determine their degree of salubrity, yet 
 neither this, nor their curdling with soap, nor 
 
 any other philosophical standard whatsoever, 
 will answer the purposes of true information. 
 Experience alone ought to determine the use- 
 ful or noxious qualities of every spring ; and 
 | experience assures us, that different kinds of 
 1 water are adopted to different constitutions. 
 I An incontestable proof of this, are the many 
 i medicinal springs throughout the world, whose 
 i peculiar benefits are known to the natives of 
 their respective countries. These are of va- 
 rious kinds, according to the different miner- 
 als with which they are impregnated ; hot, 
 saline, sulphureous, bituminous, and oily. But 
 the account of these will come most properly 
 under that of the several minerals by which 
 they are produced. 
 
 After all, therefore, we must be contented 
 with but an impure mixture for our daily be- 
 verage. And yet, perhaps, this very mixture 
 may often be more serviceable to our health 
 than that of a purer kind. We know that it 
 is so with regard to vegetables : and why not, 
 also, in general, to man ? Be this as it will, if 
 we are desirous of having water in its greatest 
 purity, we are ordered, by the curious in this 
 particular, to distil it from snow, gathered 
 upon the tops of the highest mountains, and 
 to take none but the outer and superficial 
 part thereof. This we must be satisfied to call 
 pure water; but even this is far short of the 
 pure unmixed philosophical element ; which, 
 in reality, is no where to be found. 
 
 As water is thus mixed with foreign matter, 
 and often the repository of minute animals, or 
 vegetable seeds, we need not be surprised 
 that, when carried to sea, it is always found 
 to putrefy. But we must not suppose that it 
 is the element itself which thus grows putrid 
 and offensive, but the substances with which 
 it is impregnated. It is true, the utmost pre- 
 cautions are taken to destroy all vegetable 
 and animal substances that may have previ- 
 ously been lodged in it, by boiling ; but, not- 
 withstanding this, there are some that will 
 still survive the operation, and others that find 
 their way during the time of its stowage. Sea- 
 men, therefore, assure us, that their water is 
 generally found to putrefy twice, at least, and 
 sometimes three times, in a long voyage. In 
 about a month after it has been at sea, when 
 the bung is taken out of the cask, it sends up 
 o noisonie and dangerous vapour, which 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 51 
 
 woulct take fire upon the application of a can- 
 dle." The whole body of the water then is 
 found replete with little worm-like insects, 
 that float, with great briskness, through all its 
 parts. These generally live for about a cou- 
 ple of days ; and then dying, by depositing 
 their spoils, for awhile increase the putrefac- 
 tion. After a time, the heavier parts of these 
 sinking to the bottom, the lighter float in a 
 scum, at the top ; and this is what mariners 
 call, the water's purging itself. There is still, 
 however, another race of insects, which are 
 bred, very probably, from the spoils of the 
 former ; and produce, after some time, similar 
 appearances : these dying, the water is then 
 thought to change no more. However, it ve- 
 ry often happens, especially in hot climates, 
 that nothing can drive these nauseous insects 
 from the ship's store of water. They often 
 increase to a very disagreeable and frightful 
 size, so as to deter the mariner, though parch- 
 ing with thirst, from tasting that cup which 
 they have contaminated. 
 
 This water, as thus described, therefore, is 
 a very different fluid from that simple element- 
 ary substance upon which philosophical the- 
 ories have been founded ; and concerning the 
 nature of which there have been so many dis- 
 putes. Elementary water is no way com- 
 pounded ; but is without taste, smell, or 
 colour; and incapable of being discerned by 
 any of the senses, except the touch. This is 
 the famous dissolvent of the chymists, into 
 which, as they have boasted, they can reduce 
 all bodies; and which makes up all other 
 substances, only by putting on a different dis- 
 guise. In some forms, it is fluid, transparent, 
 and evasive of the touch; in others, hard, 
 firm, and elastic. In some, it is stiffened by 
 cold ; in others, dissolved by fire. Accord- 
 ing to them, it only assumes external shapes 
 from accidental causes ; but the mountain is 
 as much a body of water, as the cake of ice 
 that melts on its brow ; and even the philoso- 
 pher himself is composed of the same materi- 
 als with the cloud or meteor which he con- 
 templates. 
 
 Speculation seldom rests when it begins. 
 Others, disallowing the universality of this 
 substance, will not allow that in a state ofna- 
 
 " Phil. Trans, vol. v. part ii. p. 71.' 
 
 ture there is any such thing as Avater at all. 
 " What assumes the appearance," say they, 
 " is nothing more than melted ice. Ice is the 
 real element of Nature's making ; and when 
 found in a state of fluidity, it is then in a state 
 of violence. All substances are naturally hard; 
 but some more readily melt with heat than 
 others. It requires a great heat to melt iron; 
 a smaller heat will melt copper; silver, gold, 
 tin, and lead, melt with smaller still ; ice. 
 which is a body like the rest, melts with a 
 very moderate warmth; and quicksilver melts 
 with the smallest warmth of all. Water, there- 
 fore, is but ice kept in continual fusion ; and 
 still returning to its former state, when the 
 heat is taken away." Between these oppo- 
 site opinions, the controversy has been car- 
 ried on with great ardour, and much has been 
 written on both sides ; and yet, when we conn- 
 to examine the debate, it will probably ter- 
 minate in this question, whether cold or heat 
 first began their operations upon water ? This 
 is a fact of very little importance, if known : 
 and, what is more, it is a fact we can never 
 know. 
 
 Indeed, if we examine into the operation? 
 of cold and heat upon water, we shall find 
 that they produce somewhat similar effects. 
 Water dilates in its bulk, by heat, to a very 
 considerable degree ; and, what is more ex- 
 traordinary, it is likewise dilated by cold in 
 the same manner. 
 
 If water be placed over a fire, it grows gra- 
 dually larger in bulk, as it becomes hot, until 
 it begins to boil ; after which no art can either 
 increase its bulk or its heat. By increasing 
 the fire, indeed, it may be more quickly eva- 
 porated away ; but its heat and its bulk still 
 continue the same. By the expanding of this 
 fluid, by heat, philosophers have found a way 
 to determine the warmth or the coldness of 
 other bodies ; for if put into a glass tube, by 
 its swelling and rising, it shows the quantity 
 of heat in the body to which it is applied ; and 
 by its contracting and sinking, it shows the 
 absence of the same. Instead of using water 
 in this instrument, which is called a thermo- 
 meter, they now make use of spirit of wine, 
 which is not apt to freeze, and which is en- 
 dued even with a greater expansion, by heat, 
 than water. The instrument consists of no- 
 thing more than a hollow ball of glass, with a 
 P 
 
52 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 long tube growing out of it. This being part- 
 ly filled with spirits of wine tinctured red, so 
 as to be seen when it rises, the ball is plunged 
 into boiling water, which making the spirit 
 within expand and rise in the tube, the water 
 marks the greatest height to which it ascends; 
 at this point the tube is to be broken off, and 
 then herrnetrically sealed, by melting the 
 glass with a blow-pipe; a scale being placed 
 by the side, completes the thermometer. Now 
 as the fluid expands or condenses with heat 
 or cold, it will rise and fall in the tube in pro- 
 portion; and the degree or quantity of ascent 
 or descent will be seen in the scale. 
 
 No lire, as was said, can make water hotter, 
 after it begins to boil. We can, therefore, at 
 any time be sure of an equable certain heat ; 
 which is that of boiling water, which is in- 
 variably the same. The certainty of such a 
 heat is not less useful than the instrument that 
 measures it. It affords a standard, fixed de- 
 gree of heat over the whole world ; boiling 
 water being as hot in Greenland as upon the 
 coast of Guinea. One fire is more intense 
 than another; of heat there are various de- 
 grees; but boiling water is a heat every where 
 the same, and easily procurable. 
 
 As heat thus expands water, so cold, when 
 it is violent enough to freeze the same, pro- 
 duces exactly the same effect, and expands it 
 likewise. Thus water is acted upon in the 
 same manner by two opposite qualities; being 
 dilated by both. As a proof that it is dilated 
 by cold, we have only to observe the ice 
 floating on the surface of a pond, which it 
 would not do were it not dilated, and grown 
 more bulky, by freezing, than the water which 
 remains unfroze. Mr. Boyle, however, put 
 the matter past a doubt, by a variety of ex- 
 periments." Having poured a proper quan- 
 tity of water into a strong earthen vessel, he 
 exposed it, uncovered, to the open air, in 
 frosty nights ; and observed, that continually 
 the ice reached higher than the water before 
 it was frozen. He filled also a tube with 
 water, and stopped both ends with wax: the 
 water, when frozen, was found to push out the 
 stopples from both ends ; and a rod of ice ap- 
 peared at each end of the tube, which showed 
 how much it was swollen by the cold within. 
 
 Boyle, voL i. p. 610. 
 
 From hence, therefore, we may be very 
 certain of the cold dilating of the water; and 
 experience also shows that the force of this 
 expansion has been found as great as any 
 which heat has been found to produce. The 
 touch-hole of a strong gun-barrel being stop- 
 ped, and a plug of iron forcibly driven into 
 the muzzle, after the barrel had been filled 
 with water, it was placed in a mixture of ice 
 and salt; the plug, though soldered to the 
 barrel, at first gave way, but being fixed in 
 more firmly, within a quarter of an hour the 
 gun-barrel burst with a loud noise, and blew 
 up the cover of the box wherein it lay. Such 
 is its force in an ordinary experiment. But 
 it has been known to burst cannons, filled 
 with water, and then left to freeze ; for the 
 cold congealing the water, and the ice swell- 
 ing, it became irresistible. The bursting of 
 rocks by frost, which is frequent in the north- 
 ern climates, and is sometimes seen in our 
 own, is an equal proof of the expansion of 
 congealed water. For having by some means 
 insinuated itself into the body of the rock, it 
 has remained there till the cold w as sufficient 
 to affect it by congelation. But when once 
 frozen, no obstacle is able to confine it from 
 dilating ; and, if it cannot otherwise find room, 
 the rock must burst asunder. 
 
 This alteration in the bulk of water might 
 have served as a proof that it was capable of 
 being compressed into a narrower space than 
 it occupied before ; but, till of late, water was 
 held to be incompressible. The general opi- 
 nion was, that no art whatsoever could 
 squeeze it into a narrower compass ; that no 
 power on earth, for instance, could force a 
 pint of water into a vessel that held an hair's- 
 breadth less than a pint And this, said they, 
 appears from the famous Florentine experi- 
 ment ; where the water, rather than suffer a 
 compressure, was seen to ooze through the 
 pores of the solid metal ; and, at length, mak- 
 ing a cleft in the side, spun out with great 
 vehemence. But later trials have proved that 
 water is very compressible, and partakes of 
 that elasticity which every other body pos- 
 sesses in some degree. Indeed, had not man- 
 kind been dazzled by the brilliancy of one in- 
 conclusive experiment, there were numerous 
 reasons to convince them of its having the 
 same properties with other substances. Ice, 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 which is water in another state, is very elastic. 
 A stone, flung slantingly along the surface of 
 a pond, bounds from the water several times; 
 which shows it to be elastic also. But the 
 trials of Mr. Canton have put this past all 
 doubt ; which being somewhat similar to those 
 of the great Boyle, who pressed it with weights 
 properly applied, carry sufficient conviction. 
 
 What has been hitherto related, is chiefly 
 applicable to the element of water alone ; but 
 its fluidity is a property that it possesses in 
 common with several other substances, in 
 other respects greatly differing from it. That 
 quality which gives rise to the definition of 
 the fluid, namely, that its parts are in a con- 
 tinual intestine motion, seems extremely ap- 
 plicable to water. What the shapes of those 
 parts are, it would be vain to attempt to dis- 
 cover. Every trial only shows the futility of 
 the attempt; all we find is, that they are ex- 
 tremely minute ; and that they roll over each 
 other with the greatest ease. Some, indeed, 
 from this property alone, have not hesitated 
 to pronounce them globular; and we have, 
 in all our hydrostatical books, pictures of 
 these little globes in a state of sliding and 
 rolling over each other. But all this is merely 
 the work of imagination; we know that sub- 
 stances of any kind, reduced very small, as- 
 sume a fluid appearance, somewhat resem- 
 bling that of water. Mr. Boyle, after finely 
 powdering and sifting a little dry powder of 
 plaister of Paris, put it in a vessel over the 
 fire, where it soon began to boil like water, 
 exhibiting all the motions and appearances of 
 a boiling liquor. Although but a powder, the 
 parts of which we know are very different 
 from each other, and just as accident has 
 formed them, yet it heaved in great waves 
 like water. Upon agitation, a heavy body will 
 sink to the bottom, and a light one emerge to 
 the top. There is no reason, then, to suppose 
 the figure of the parts of water round, since 
 we see their fluidity very well imitated by a 
 composition, the parts of which are of various 
 forms and sizes. The shape of the parts of 
 water, therefore, we must be content to con- 
 tinue ignorant of. All we know is, that earth, 
 air, and fire, conduce to separate the parts 
 from each other. 
 
 Earthy substances divide the parts from 
 each other, and keep them asunder. This 
 
 division may be so great, that the water will 
 entirely lose its fluidity thereby. Mud, pot- 
 ter's clay, and dried bricks, are but so many 
 different combinations of earth and water: 
 each substance in which the parts of water 
 are most separated from each other, appear- 
 ing to be the most dry. In some substances, 
 indeed, where the parts of water are greatly 
 divided, as in porcelain, for instance, it is no 
 easy matter to recover and bring them to- 
 gether again; but they continue in a manner 
 fixed and united to the manufactured clay. 
 This circumstance led Doctor Cheney into a 
 very peculiar train of thinking. He sus- 
 pected that the quantity of water, on the 
 surface of the earth, was daily decreasing. 
 For, says he, some parts of it are continually 
 joined to vegetable, animal, and mineral sub- 
 stances, which no art can again recover. 
 United with these, the water loses its fluidity; 
 for if, continues he, we separate a few parti- 
 cles of any fluid, and fasten them to a solid 
 body, 6r keep them asunder, they will be 
 fluid no longer. To produce fluidity, a con- 
 siderable number of such particles are re- 
 quired ; but here they are close, and destitute 
 of their natural properties. Thus, according 
 to him, the world is growing every day harder 
 and harder, and the earth firmer and firmer; 
 and there may come a time when every ob- 
 ject around us may be stiffened in universal 
 frigidity ! However, we have causes enough 
 of anxiety in this world already, not to add 
 this preposterous concern to the number. 
 
 That air also contributes to divide the parts 
 of water, we can have no manner of doubt ; 
 some have even disputed whether water be 
 not capable of being turned into air. How- 
 ever, though this cannot be allowed, it must 
 be granted, that it may be turned into a sub- 
 stance which greatly resembles air (as we 
 have seen in the experiment of the aeolipile) 
 with all its properties ; except that, by cold, 
 this new-made air may be condensed again 
 into water. 
 
 But of all the substances which tend to 
 divide the parts of water, fire is the most 
 powerful. Water, when heated into steam, 
 acquires such force, and the parts of it tend 
 to fly off from each other with such violence, 
 that no earthly substance we know of is strong 
 to confine them. A single drop of 
 
 enough 
 
A HISTORY OF 
 
 water, converted into steam, has been found 
 capable of raising a weight of twenty tons ; 
 and would have raised twenty thousand, were 
 the vessel confining it sufficiently strong, and 
 the fire below increased in proportion. 
 
 From this easy yielding of its parts to ex- 
 ternal pressure, arises the art of determining 
 the specific gravity of bodies by plunging 
 them in water ; with many other useful dis- 
 coveries in that part of natural philosophy, 
 called hydrostatics. The laws of this science, 
 which Archimedes began, and Pascal, Avith 
 some other of the moderns, have much im- 
 proved, rather belongs to experimental than 
 to natural history. However, I will take leave 
 to mention some of the most striking paradox- 
 es in this branch of science, which are as well 
 confirmed by experiment, as rendered uni- 
 versal by theory. It would, indeed, be un- 
 pardonable, while discoursing on the proper- 
 ties of water, to omitgiving some account of the 
 manner in which it sustains such immense 
 bulks as we see floating upon its soft and 
 yielding surface : how some bodies, that are 
 known to sink at one time, swim with ease, if 
 their surface be enlarged: how the heaviest 
 body, even gold itself, may be made to swim 
 upon water; and how the lightest, such as 
 cork, shall remain sunk at the bottom : how 
 the pouring in of a single quart of water, will 
 burst a hogshead hooped with iron : and how 
 it ascends, in pipes, from the valley, to travel 
 over the mountain : these are circumstances 
 that are at first surprising ; but, upon a slight 
 consideration, lose their wonder. 
 
 " In order to conceive the manner in which 
 all these wonders are effected, we must be- 
 gin by observing that water is possessed of 
 an invariable property, which has not hither- 
 to been mentioned ; that of always keeping 
 its surface level and even. Winds, indeed, may 
 raise it into waves, or art spurt it up in foun- 
 tains ; but ever, when left to itself, it sinks in- 
 to a smooth even surface, of which no one 
 part is higher than another. If I should pour 
 vrater, for instance, into the arm of a pipe of 
 the shape of the letter U, the fluid would rise 
 in the other arm just to the same height; be- 
 
 In the above sketch, the manner of demonstrating 
 used by Monsieur D'Alembert is made use of, as the most 
 obvious, and the most satisfactory. Vide Essai sur, &c. 
 
 cause, otherwise, it would not find its level, 
 which it invariably maintains. A pipe bend- 
 ing from one hill down into the valley, and 
 rising by another, may be considered as a 
 tube of this kind, in which the water, sinking 
 in one arm, rises" to maintain its level in the 
 other. Upon this principle all water-pipes 
 depend; which can never raise the water 
 higher than the fountain from which they 
 proceed. 
 
 Again, let us suppose for a moment, that 
 the arms of the pipe already mentioned, may 
 be made long or short at pleasure ; and let 
 us still further suppose, that there is some ob- 
 stacle at the bottom of it, which prevents the 
 water poured into one arm, from rising in the 
 other. Now it is evident, that this obstacle 
 at the bottom will sustain a pressure from the 
 water in one arm, equal to what would make 
 it rise in the other; and this pressure will be 
 great, in proportion as the arm filled with wa- 
 ter is tall. We may, therefore, generally con- 
 clude, that the bottom of every vessel is pres- 
 sed by a force, in proportion to the height of 
 the water in that vessel. For instance, if the 
 vessel filled with water be forty feet high, the 
 bottom of that vessel will sustain such a pres- 
 sure as would raise the same water forty feet 
 high, which is very great. From hence we 
 see how extremely apt our pipes, that con- 
 vey water to the city, are to burst ; for de- 
 scending from a hill of more than forty feet 
 high, they are pressed by the water contained 
 in them, with a force equal to what would 
 raise it to more than forty feet high ; and that 
 this is sometimes able to burst a \vooden pipe, 
 we can have no room to doubt of. 
 
 Still recurring to our pipe, let us suppose 
 one of its arms ten times as thick as the other; 
 this will produce no effect whatsoever upon 
 the obstacle below, w r hich we supposed hin- 
 dering its rise in the other arm ; because, how 
 thick soever the pipe may be, its contents 
 would only rise to its own level; and it will, 
 therefore, press the obstacle with a force 
 equal thereto. We may, therefore, univer- 
 sally conclude, that the bottom of any vessel 
 is pressed by its water, not as it is broad or 
 narrow, but in proportion as it is high. Thus 
 the water contained in a vessel not thicker 
 than my finger, presses its bottom as forcibly 
 as the water contained in an hogshead of an 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 55 
 
 equal height ; and, if we made holes in the 
 bottoms of both, the water would burst out as 
 forceful from the one as the other. Hence we 
 may, with great ease, burst an hogshead with 
 a single quart of water; and it has been often 
 done. W e have only," for this, to place an 
 hogshead on one end, filled with water : we 
 then bore a hole in its top, into which we 
 
 Elant a narrow tin pipe, of about thirty feet 
 igh : by pouring a quart of water into this, 
 at the top, as it continues to rise higher in 
 the pipe, it will press more forcibly on the 
 bottom and sides of the hogshead below, and 
 at last burst it. 
 
 Still returning to our simple instrument of 
 demonstration. If we suppose the obstacle 
 at the bottom of the pipe to be moveable, so 
 as that the force of the water can push it up 
 into the other arm ; such a body as quick- 
 silver, for instance. Now, it is evident, that 
 the weight of water weighing down upon this 
 quicksilver in one arm, will at last press it up 
 in the other arm ; and will continue to press 
 it upwards, until the fluid in both arms be up- 
 on a par. So that here we actually see quick- 
 silver, the heaviest substance in the world, 
 except gold and platina, floating upon a wa- 
 ter, which is but a very light subsbince. 
 
 When we see water thus capable of sus- 
 taining quicksilver, we need not be surprised 
 that it is capable of floating much lighter sub- 
 stances, ships, animals, or timber. When any 
 thing floats upon water, we always see that a 
 part of it sinks in the same. A cork, a ship, 
 a buoy,each buries itself in a bed on the sur- 
 face of the water; this bed may be considered 
 as so much water displaced; the water Will, 
 therefore, lose so much of its own weight, as 
 is equal to the weight of that bed of water 
 which it displaces. If the body be heavier 
 than a similar bulk of water, it will sink; if 
 lighter, it '.vill swim. Universally, therefore, 
 a body plunged in water, loses as much of 
 its weight as is equal to the weight of a body 
 of water of its own bulk. Some light bodies, 
 therefore, such as cork, lose much of their 
 weight, and therefore swim; other more pon- 
 derous bodies sink, because they are heavier 
 than their bulk of water. 
 
 Upon this simple theorem entirely depends 
 
 a IN 7 ollet:'s Lectures. 
 NO. 6. 
 
 the art of weighing metals hydrostatically. I 
 have a guinea, for instance, and desire to 
 know whether it be pure gold ; I have weigh- 
 ed it in the usual way with another guinea, 
 and find it exactly of the same weight, but 
 still I have some suspicion, from its greater 
 bulk, that it is not pure^ In order to deter- 
 mine this, I have nothing more to do than to 
 weigh it in water with that same guinea that 
 I know to be good, and of the same weight : 
 and this will instantly show the difference ; 
 for the true ponderous metal will sink, and 
 the false bulky one will be sustained in pro- 
 portion to the greatness of its surface. Those 
 whose business it is to examine the purity of 
 metals, have a balance made for this purpose, 
 by which they can precisely determine which 
 is most ponderous, or, as it is expressed, 
 which has the greatest specific gravity. Se- 
 venty-one pound and a half of quicksilver, 
 is found to be equal in bulk to a hundred 
 pound weight of gold. In the same propor- 
 tion sixty of lead, fifty-four of silver, forty- 
 seven of copper, forty-five of brass, forty-two 
 of iron, and thirty-nine of tin, are each equal 
 to an hundred pound of the same mosi pon- 
 derous of all metals. 
 
 This method of precisely determining the 
 parity of gold, by weighing in water, was first 
 discovered by Archimedes, to whom mankind 
 have been indebted for many useful discove- 
 ries. Hiero, king of Sicily, having sent a cer- 
 tain quantity of gold to be made into a crown, 
 the workman, it seems, kept a part for his 
 own use, and supplied the deficiency with a 
 baser metal. His fraud was suspected by 
 the king, but could not be detected; lill he 
 applied to Archimedes, who weighed the 
 crown in water; and, by this method, inform- 
 ed the king of the quantity of gold which was 
 taken away. \. 
 
 It has been said, that all fluids endeavour 
 to preserve their level ; and, likewise, that a 
 body pressing on the surface, tended to de- 
 stroy that level. From hence, therefore, it 
 will ensily be inferred, that the deeper any 
 body sinks, the greater will be the resistance 
 of the depressed fluid beneath. It will be 
 asked, therefore, as the resistance increases 
 in proportion' as the body descends, how 
 comes the body, after it has got a certain 
 way, to sink at all ? The answer is obvious : 
 Q 
 
A HISTORY OF 
 
 From the fluid above pressing it down with 
 almost as great a force as the fluid beneath 
 presses it up. Take away, by any art, the 
 pressure of the fluid from above, and let only 
 the resistance of the fluid from below be suf- 
 fered to act, and after the body is gone down 
 very deep, the resistance will be insuperable. 
 To give an instance : A small hole opens in 
 the bottom of a ship at sea, forty feet we will 
 suppose below the surface of the water; 
 through this the water bursts up with great 
 violence ; I attempt to stop it with my hand, 
 but it pushes the hand violently away. Here 
 the hand is, in fact, a body attempting to sink 
 upon water, at a depth of forty feet, with the 
 pressure from above taken away. The wa- 
 ter, therefore, will overcome my strength; and 
 Avill continue to burst in till it has got to its 
 level : if I should then dive into the hold, and 
 clap my hand upon the opening, as before, 
 I should perceive no force acting against my 
 hand at all ; for the water above presses the 
 hand as much down against the hole, as the 
 water without presses it upward. For this 
 reason, also, when we dive to the bottom of 
 the water, we sustain a very great pressure 
 from above, it is true, but it is counteracted 
 by the pressure from below ; and the whole 
 acting uniformly on the surface of the body, 
 wraps us close round without injury. 
 
 As I have deviated thus far, I will just men- 
 tion one or two properties more, which water, 
 and all such like fluids, is found to possess. 
 
 " This phenomenon, which has so long embarrassed 
 philosophers, is easily soluble upon the principle, that the 
 attraction between the particles of glass and water is 
 greater than the attraction between the particles of water 
 themselves : for, if a glass tube be held parallel to the 
 horizon, and a drop of water be applied to the under side 
 of the tube, it will adhere to it : nor will it fall from the 
 
 And, first, their ascending in vessels which 
 are emptied of air, as in our common pumps 
 for instance. The air, however, being the 
 agent in this case, we must previously ex- 
 amine its properties, before we undertake 
 the explanation. The other property to be 
 mentioned is, that of their ascending in small 
 capillary tubes. This is one of the most ex- 
 traordinary and inscrutable appearances in 
 nature. Glass tubes may be drawn, by means 
 of a lamp, as fine as a hair ; still preserving 
 their hollow within. If one of these be plant- 
 ed in a vessel of water, or spirit of wine, the 
 liquor will immediately be seen to ascend ; 
 and it will rise higher, in proportion as the 
 tube is smaller ; a foot, two feet, and more. 
 How does this come to pass ? Is the air the 
 cause? No: the liquor rises, although the 
 air be taken away. Is attraction the cause ? 
 No : for quicksilver does not ascend, which 
 it otherwise would. Many have been the 
 theories of experimental philosophers to ex- 
 plain this property. Such as are fond of 
 travelling in the regions of conjecture, may 
 consult Hawksbee, Morgan, Jurin, or Watson, 
 who have examined the subject with great 
 minuteness. Hitherto, however, nothing but 
 doubts, instead of knowledge, have been the 
 result of their inquiries. It will not, there- 
 fore, become us to enter into the minute- 
 ness of the inquiry, when we have so 
 many greater wonders to call our attention 
 away. 8 
 
 glass, till its bulk and gravity are so far increased as to 
 overbalance the attraction of the glass. Hence it is easy 
 to conceive, how sensibly such a power must act on the 
 surface of a fluid not viscid, as water, contained within the 
 cavity of a small glass tube ; as also that the quantity of 
 the fluid raised, will be as the surface of the bore which it 
 fills, that is, as the diameter of the tube. 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 OF THE ORIGIN OF RIVERS. 
 
 " THE sun ariseth, and the sun goeth down, 
 and pants for the place from whence he 
 arose. All things are filled with labour, and 
 man cannot utter it. All rivers run into the sea, 
 yet the sea is not full. Unto the place whence 
 the rivers come, thither they return again. 
 The eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the 
 ear with hearing.'" Thus speaks the wisest 
 of the Jews. And at so early a period was 
 the curiosity of man employed in observing 
 these great circulations of nature. Every eye 
 attempted to explain those appearances; and 
 every philosopher who has long thought up- 
 on the subject, seems to give a peculiar solu- 
 tion. The inquiry whence rivers are produ- 
 ced ; whence they derive those unceasing 
 stores of water, which continually enrich the 
 world with fertility and verdure ; has been 
 variously considered, and divided the opin- 
 ions of mankind more than any other topic 
 in natural history. 
 
 In this contest the various champions may 
 be classed under two leaders ; Mr. De la 
 Hire, who contends that rivers must be sup- 
 plied from the sea, strained through the pores 
 of the earth ; and Dr. Halley, who has endea- 
 voured to demonstrate that the clouds alone 
 are sufficient for the supply. Both sides 
 have brought in mathematics to their aid ; 
 and have shown that long and laborious cal- 
 culations can at any time be made to obscure 
 both sides of a question. 
 
 De la Hire b begins his proofs, that rain- 
 water, evaporated from the sea, is insufficient 
 for the production of rivers; by showing that 
 rain never penetrates the surface of the earth 
 above sixteen inches. From thence he infers, 
 that it is impossible for it, in many cases, to 
 sink so as to be found at such considerable 
 depths below. Rain-water, he grants, is often 
 Been to mix with rivers, and to swell their 
 currents ; but a much greater part of it eva- 
 
 a Ecclesiastes, chap. i. ver. 5, J, 8. 
 b Hist, de 1'Acad. 1713, p. 56. 
 
 porates. " In fact," continues he, " if we sup- 
 pose the earth every where covered with 
 water, evaporation alone would be sufficient 
 to carry off two feet nine inches of it in a 
 year: and yet we very well know, that 
 scarcely nineteen inches of rain-water falls 
 in that time ; so that evaporation would car- 
 ry off a much greater quantity than is ever 
 known to descend. The small quantity of 
 rain-water that falls is, therefore, but barely 
 sufficient for the purposes of vegetation. Two 
 leaves of a fig-tree have been found, by ex- 
 periment, to imbibe from the earth, in five 
 hours and a half, two ounces of water. This 
 implies the great quantity of fluid that must 
 be exhausted in the maintenance of one sin- 
 gle plant. Add to this, that the waters of 
 the river Rungis will, by calculation, rise to 
 fifty inches; and the whole country from 
 whence they are supplied!!, ever receives fif- 
 ty inches in the year by rain. Besides this, 
 there are many salt springs, which are known 
 to proceed immediately from the sea, and are 
 subject to its flux and reflux. In short, 
 wherever we dig beneath the surface of the 
 earth, except in a very few instances, water 
 is to be found : and it is by this subterraneous 
 water that springs and rivers, nay, a great 
 part of vegetation itself, is supported. It is 
 this subterraneous water which is raised into 
 steam, by the internal heat of the earth, that 
 feeds plants. It is this subterraneous water 
 that distils through interstices; and there, 
 cooling, forms fountains. It is this, that by 
 the addition of rains, is increased into rivers, 
 and pours plenty over the whole earth." 
 
 On the other side of the question/ it is as- 
 serted, that the vapours which are exhaled 
 from the sea, and driven by the winds upon 
 land, are more than sufficient to supply not 
 only plants with moisture, but also to furnish 
 a sufficiency of water to the greatest rivers. 
 
 c Phil. Trans. voL ii. p. 128. 
 
A HISTORY OF 
 
 For this purpose, an estimate has been made 
 of the quantity of water emptied at the 
 mouths of the greatest rivers; and of the 
 quantity also raised from the sea by evapo- 
 ration ; arid it has been found, that the latter 
 by far exceeds the former. This calculation 
 was made by Mr. Marriotte. By him it was 
 found, upon receiving such rain as fell in a 
 year, in a proper vessel fitted for that pur- 
 pose, that, one year with another, there 
 might fall about twenty inches of water upon 
 the surface of the earth, throughout Europe. 
 It was also computed that the river Seine, 
 from its source to the city of Paris, might 
 cover an extent of ground, that would supply 
 it annually with above seven millions of cubic 
 feet of this water, formed by evaporation. 
 But upon computing the quantity which pass- 
 ed through the arches of one of its bridges 
 in a year, it was found to amount only to two 
 hundred and eighty millions of cubic feet, 
 which is not above the sixth part of the for- 
 mer number. Hence it appears, that this ri- 
 ver may receive a supply, brought to it by 
 the evaporated waters of the sea, six times 
 greater than what it gives back to the sea by 
 its current ; and, therefore, evaporation is 
 more than sufficient for maintaining the great- 
 est rivers, and supplying the purposes also 
 of vegetation. 
 
 In this manner, the sea supplies sufficient 
 humidity to the air, for furnishing the earth 
 with all necessary moisture. One part of its 
 vapours fall upon its own bosom, before they 
 arrive upon land. Another part is arrested 
 by the sides of mountains, and is compelled, 
 by the rising stream of air, to mount upward 
 towards the summits. Here it is presently 
 precipitated, dripping down by the crannies 
 of the stone. In some places, entering into 
 the caverns of the mountain, it gathers in 
 those receptacles, which being once filled, 
 all the rest overflows; and breaking out by 
 the sides of the hills, forms single springs. 
 Many of these run down by the valleys or guts 
 between the ridges of the mountain, and, 
 coming to unite, form little rivulets or brooks ; 
 many of these meeting in one common valley, 
 and gaining the plain ground, being grown 
 less rapid, become a river; and many of 
 
 Phil. Trans. vol. ii. p. 128. 
 
 these uniting, make such vast bodies of water, 
 as the Rhine, the Rhone, and the Danube. 
 
 There is still a third part, which falls upon 
 the lower grounds, and furnishes plants with 
 their wonted supply. But the circulation 
 does not rest even here ; for it is again exha- 
 led into vapour hy the action of the sun ; and 
 afterwards returned to that great mass of wa- 
 ters whence it first arose. "This," adds Dr. 
 Halley, "seems the most reasonable hypo- 
 thesis ; and much more likely to be true, than 
 that of those who derive all springs from the 
 filtering of the sea-waters, through certain 
 imaginary tubes or passages within the 
 earth ; since it is well known that the great- 
 est rivers have their most copious fountains 
 the most remote from the sea." a 
 
 This seems the most general opinion ; and 
 yet, after all, it is still pressed with great 
 difficulties ; and there is still room to look 
 out for a better theory. The perpetuity of 
 many springs, which always yield the same 
 quantity when the least rain or vapour is af- 
 forded, as well as when the greatest, is a 
 strong objection. Derham u mentions a spring 
 at Upminster, which he could never perceive 
 by his eye to be diminished, in the greatest 
 droughts, even when all the ponds in the 
 country, as well as an adjoining brook, have 
 been dry for several months together. In the 
 rainy seasons, also, it was never overflowed ; 
 except sometimes, perhaps, for an hour or so, 
 upon the immission of the external rains. He, 
 therefore, justly enough concludes, that had 
 this spring its origin from rain or vapour, 
 there would be found an increase or decrease 
 of its water, corresponding to the causes of 
 its production. 
 
 Thus the reader, after having been tossed 
 from one hypothesis to another, must at last be 
 content to settle in conscious ignorance. All 
 that has been written upon this subject, af- 
 fords him rather something to say, than some- 
 thing to think ; something rather for others 
 than for himself. Varenius, indeed, although 
 he is at a loss for the origin of rivers, is by no 
 means so as to their formation. He is pretty 
 positive that all rivers are artificial. He 
 boldly asserts, that their channels have been 
 originally formed by the industry of man. 
 
 b Derham Physico-Theol. 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 f>9 
 
 His reasons arc, that when a new spring 
 breaks forth, the water does not make itself 
 a new channel, but spreads over the adjacent 
 land. " Thus," says he, " men are obliged 
 to direct its course ; or, otherwise, Nature 
 would never have found one." He enume- 
 rates many rivers that are certainly known, 
 from history, to have been dug by men. 
 He alleges, that no salt-water rivers are 
 found, because men did not want salt-water ; 
 and as for salt, that was procurable at less 
 expense than digging a river for it. How- 
 ever, it costs a speculative man but a small 
 expense of thinking to form such an hypothe- 
 sis. It may, perhaps, engross the reader's 
 patience to detain him longer upon it. 
 
 Nevertheless, though Philosophy be thus 
 ignorant, as to the production of rivers, yet 
 the laws of their motion, and the nature of 
 their currents, have been very well explain- 
 ed. The Italians have particularly distin- 
 guished themselves in this respect; and it is 
 chiefly to them that we are indebted for the 
 improvement." 
 
 All rivers have their source either in moun- 
 tains, or elevated lakes; and it is in their 
 descent from these that they acquire that ve- 
 locity which maintains their future current. 
 At first their course is generally rapid and 
 headlong ; but it is retarded in its journey, 
 by the continual friction against its banks, by 
 the many obstacles it meets to divert its 
 stream, and by the plains generally becoming 
 more level as it approaches towards the sea. 
 
 If this acquired velocity be quite spent, 
 and the plain through which the river passes 
 is entirely level; it will, notwithstanding, 
 still continue to run, from the perpendicular 
 pressure of the water, which is always in ex- 
 act proportion to the depth. This perpen- 
 dicular pressure is nothing more than the 
 weight of the upper waters pressing the low- 
 er out of their places ; and, consequently, 
 driving them forward, as they cannot recede 
 against the stream. As this pressure is great- 
 est in the deepest parts of the river, so we 
 generally find the middle of the stream most 
 rapid ; both because it has the greatest mo- 
 tion thus communicated by the pressure, and 
 
 S. Guglielmiui della Natui-a de Fiumi, passim. 
 " Ibid. 
 
 the fewest obstructions from the banks on 
 either side. 
 
 Rivers thus set into motion are almost al- 
 ways found to make their own beds. Where 
 they find the bed elevated, they wear its sub- 
 stance away, and deposit the sediment in the 
 next hollow, so as in time to make the bot- 
 tom of their channels even. On the other 
 hand, the water is continually gnawing and 
 eating away the banks on each side ; and 
 this with more force as the current happens 
 to strike more directly against them. By 
 these means it always has a tendency to ren- 
 der them more straight and parallel to its 
 own course. Thus it continues to rectify its 
 banks, and enlarge its bed ; and, consequent- 
 ly, to diminish the force of its stream, till 
 there becomes an equilibrium between the 
 force of the water, and the resistance of its 
 banks, upon which both will remain without 
 any further mutation. And it is happy for 
 man that bounds are thus put to the erosion 
 of the earth by water; and that we find all 
 rivers only dig and widen themselves but to 
 a certain degree. 1 " 
 
 In those plains" and large valleys where 
 great rivers flow, the bed of the river is usu- 
 ally lower than any part of the valley. But it 
 often happens, that the surface of the water 
 is higher than many of the grounds that are 
 adjacent to the banks of the stream. If, after 
 inundations, we take a view of some rivers, 
 we shall find their banks appear above wa- 
 ter, at a time that all the adjacent valley is 
 overflowed. This proceeds from the frequent 
 deposition of mud, and such like substances, 
 upon the banks, by the rivers frequently 
 overflowing; and thus, by degrees, they be- 
 come elevated above the plain ; and the wa- 
 ter is often seen higher also. 
 
 Rivers, as every one has seen, are always 
 broadest at the mouth, and grow narrower 
 towards their source. But what is less known, 
 and probably more deserving curiosity, is, 
 that they run in a more direct channel as they 
 immediately leave their sources; and that 
 their sinuosities and turnings become more 
 numerous as they proceed. It is a certain 
 sign among the savages of North America, 
 
 c Buflbn, de Fleuves, passim, vol. ii. 
 
 R 
 
CO 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 that they are near the sea, when they find 
 the rivers winding, and every now and then 
 changing their direction. And this is even 
 now become an indication to the Europeans 
 themselves, in their journeys through those 
 trackless forests. As those sinuosities, there- 
 fore, increase as the river approaches the 
 sea, it is not to be wondered at that they 
 sometimes divide, and thus disembogue by 
 different channels. The Danube disem- 
 bogues into the Euxine by seven mouths ; the 
 Nile by the same number ; and the Wolga 
 by seventy. 
 
 The currents" of rivers are to be estimated 
 very differently from the manner in which 
 those writers, who have given us mathemati- 
 cal theories on this subject, represent them. 
 They found their calculations upon the sur- 
 face being a perfect plain from one bank to 
 the other : but this is not the actual state of 
 nature; for rivers, in general, rise in the 
 middle ; and this convexity is greatest in 
 proportion as the rapidity of the stream is 
 greater. Any person, to be convinced of 
 this, need only lay his eye, as nearly as he 
 can, on a level with the stream, and looking 
 across to the opposite bank, he will perceive 
 the river in the midst to be elevated consi- 
 derably above what it is at the edges. This 
 rising, in some rivers, is often found to be 
 three feet high; and is ever increased in pro- 
 portion to the rapidity of the stream. In this 
 case, the water in the midst of the current, 
 loses a part of its weight, from the velocity 
 of its motion; while that at the sides, for the 
 contrary reason, sinks lower. It sometimes, 
 however, happens, that this appearance is 
 reversed ; for when tides are found to flow 
 up with violence against the natural current 
 of the water, the greatest rapidity is then 
 found at the sides of the river, as the water 
 there least resists the influx from the sea. 
 On those occasions, therefore, the river pre- 
 sents a concave rather than a convex surface ; 
 and, as in the former case, the middle waters 
 rose in a ridge, in this case they sink in a 
 i arrow. 
 
 The stream of all rivers is more rapid in 
 proportion as its channel is diminished. For 
 instance, it will be much swifter where it is 
 
 a Button, de Fleuves, passim, vol. ii. 
 
 ten yards broad, than where it is twenty , 
 for the force behind still pushing the water 
 forward, when it comes to the narrow part, 
 it must make up by velocity what it wants in 
 room. 
 
 It often happens that the stream of a river 
 is opposed by one of its jutting banks, by an 
 island in the midst, the arches of a bridge, 
 or some such obstacle. This produces not 
 unfrequently a back current ; and the water 
 having passed the arch with great velocity, 
 pushes the water on each side of its direct 
 current. This produces a side current, tend- 
 ing to the bank ; and not unfrequently a 
 whirlpool ; in which a large body of waters 
 are circulated in a kind of cavity, sinking 
 down in the middle. The central point of 
 the whirlpool is always lowest, because it 
 has the least motion ; the other parts are 
 supported, in some measure, by the violence 
 of theirs, and consequently rise higher as 
 their motion is greater ; so that towards the 
 extremity of the whirlpool, must be higher 
 than towards the centre. 
 
 If the stream of a river be stopped at the 
 surface, and yet be free below ; for instance, 
 if it be laid over by a bridge of boats, there 
 will then be a double current ; the water at 
 the surface will flow back, while that at the 
 bottom will proceed with increased velocity. 
 It often happens that the current at the bot- 
 tom is swifter than at the top, when, upon 
 violent land-floods, the weight of waters to- 
 wards the source presses the waters at the 
 bottom, before it has had time to communi- 
 cate its motion to the surface. However, in 
 all other cases, the surface of the stream is 
 swifter than the bottom, as it is not retarded 
 by rubbing over the bed of the river. 
 
 It might be supposed that bridges, dams, 
 and other obstacles in the current of a river, 
 would retard its velocity. But the difference 
 they make is very inconsiderable. The wa- 
 ter, by these stoppages, gets an elevation 
 above the object; which, when it has sur- 
 mounted, it gives a velocity that recom- 
 penses the former delay. Islands and turn- 
 ings also retard the course of the stream but 
 very inconsiderably ; any cause which di- 
 minishes the quantity of the water, most 
 sensibly diminishes the force and the velo- 
 city of the stream. 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 An increase* of water in the bed of the 
 river always increases its rapidity; except in 
 cases of inundation. The instant the river 
 has overflowed its banks, the velocity of its 
 current is always turned that way, and the 
 inundation is perceived to continue for some 
 days ; which it would not otherwise do, if, as 
 soon as the cause was discontinued, it ac- 
 quired its former rapidity. 
 
 A violent storm, that sets directly up against 
 the course of the stream, will always retard, 
 and sometimes entirely stop its course. I have 
 seen an instance of this, when the bed of a 
 large river was left entirely dry for some 
 hours, and lish were caught among the stones 
 at the bottom. 
 
 Inundations are generally greater towards 
 the source of rivers than farther down ; be- 
 cause the current is generally swifter below j 
 than above ; and that for the reasons already 
 assigned. 
 
 A little river b may be received into a large I 
 one, without augmenting either its width or | 
 depth. This, which at first view seems a 
 paradox, is yet very easily accounted for. 
 The little river, in this case, only goes towards 
 increasing th-3 swiftness of the larger, and put- 
 ting its dormant waters into motion. In this 
 manner the Venetian branch of the Po was 
 pushed on by the Ferrarese branch and that 
 of Penaro, without any enlargement of its 
 breadth or depth from these accessions. 
 
 A river tending to enter another, either j 
 perpendicularly, or in an opposite direction, j 
 will be diverted by degrees from that direc- j 
 tion ; arid be obliged to make itself a more ; 
 favourable entrance downward, and more 
 conspiring with the stream of the former. 
 
 The union of two rivers into one, makes it 
 flow the swifter ; since the same quantity of 
 water, instead of rubbing against four shores, 
 now only rubs against two. And, besides, i 
 the current being deeper, becomes, of con- | 
 sequence, more fitted for motion. 
 
 With respect to the places from whence 
 rivers proceed, it may be taken for a general 
 rule, that the largest" and highest mountains ' 
 supply the greatest and most extensive rivers. 
 It may also be remarked, in whatever direc- 
 tion the ridge of the mountain runs, the river 
 
 Buffon, vol. ii. p. 62. b Guglielmini. 
 
 takes an opposite course. If the mountain, 
 for instance, stretches from north to south, 
 the river runs from east to west; and so con- 
 trariwise. These are some of the most ge- 
 nerally received opinions with regard to the 
 course of rivers ; however, they are liable to 
 many exceptions; and nothing but an actual 
 knowledge of each particular river can fur- 
 nish us with an exact theory of its current. 
 
 The largest rivers of Europe are, first, the 
 Wolga, which is about six hundred and fifty 
 leagues in length, extending from Rcschow to 
 Astrachan. It is remarkable of this river, 
 that it abounds with water during the sum- 
 mer months of May and June ; but all the rest 
 of the year is so shallow as scarce to cover 
 its bottom, or allow a passage for loaded ves- 
 sels that trade up its stream. It was up this 
 river that the English attempted to trade into 
 Persia, in which they were so unhappily dis- 
 appointed, in the year 1741. The next in 
 order is the Danube. The course of this is 
 about four hundred and fifty leagues, from the 
 mountains of Switzerland to the Black Sea. 
 It is so deep between Buda and Belgrade, 
 that the Turks and Christians have fleets of 
 men of war upon it ; which frequently en- 
 gaged during the last war between the Otto- 
 mans and the Austrians : however, it is un- 
 navigable further down, by reason of its cata- 
 racts, which prevent its commerce into the 
 Black Sea. The Don, or Tanais, which is 
 four hundred leagues from the source of that 
 branch of it called the Softna, to its mouth in 
 the Euxine Sea. In one. part of its course, it 
 approaches near the Wolga ; and Peter the 
 Great had actually begun a canal, by which 
 he intended joining those two rivers ; but 
 this he did not live to finish. The Nieper, or 
 Boristhenes, which rises in the middle of Mus- 
 covy, and runs a course of three hundred and 
 fifty leagues, to empty itself into the Black 
 Sea. The Old Cossacks inhabit the banks 
 and islands of this river; and frequently cross 
 the Black Sea, to plunder the maritime places 
 on the coasts of Turkey. The Dwina, which 
 takes its rise in a province of the same name 
 in Russia, that runs a course of three hundred 
 leagues, and disembogues into the White Sea, 
 a little below Archangel. 
 
 c Doctor Halley. 
 
A HISTORY OF 
 
 The largest rivers of Asia are, the Hohanho, 
 in China, which is eight hundred and fifty 
 leagues in length, computing from its source 
 at Raja Ribron, to its mouth in the gulf of 
 Changi. The Jenisca of Tartary, about eight 
 hundred leagues in length, from the lake Se- 
 linga, to the Icy Sea. This river is, by some, 
 supposed to supply most of that great quan- 
 tity of drift wood which is seen floating in the 
 seas near the Arctic circle. The Oby, of 
 five hundred leagues, running from the lake 
 of Kila into the Northern Sea. The Amour, 
 in Eastern Tartary, whose course is about 
 five hundred and seventy-five leagues, from 
 its source to its entrance into the sea of 
 Kamtschatka. The Kiam, in China, five hun- 
 dred and fifty leagues in length. The Ganges, 
 one of the most noted rivers in the world, 
 and about as long as the former. It rises in 
 the mountains which separate India from 
 Tartary ; and running through the dominions 
 of the Great Mogul, discharges itself by se- 
 veral mouths into the bay of Bengal. It is 
 not only esteemed by the Indians for the 
 depth and pureness of its stream, but for a 
 supposed sanctity which they believe to be 
 in its waters. It is visited annually by several 
 hundred thousand pilgrims, who pay their 
 devotions to the river as to a god : lor savage 
 simplicity is always known to mistake the 
 blessings of the Deity, for the Deity himself. 
 They carry their dying friends from distant 
 countries, to expire on its banks; and to be 
 buried in its stream. The water is lowest in 
 April or May ; but the rains beginning to fall 
 soon after, the flat country is overflowed for 
 several miles, till about the end of September; 
 the waters then begin to retire, leaving a pro- 
 lific sediment behind, that enriches the soil, 
 and, in a few days time, gives a luxuriance to 
 vegetation, beyond what can be conceived by 
 an European. Next to this may be reckoned 
 the still more celebrated river Euphrates. 
 This rises from two sources, northward of the 
 city Erzerum, in Turcomania, and unites 
 about three days' journey below the same ; 
 from whence, after performing a course of 
 five hundred leagues, it falls into the gulf of 
 Persia, fifty miles below the city of Bassora 
 in Arabia. The river Indus is extended, from 
 its source to its discharge into the Arabian 
 Sea, four hundred leagues. 
 
 The largest rivers of Africa are, the Senegal, 
 which runs a course of not less than eleven 
 hundred leagues, comprehending the Niger, 
 which some have supposed to fall into it. 
 However, later accounts seem to affirm that 
 the Niger is lost in the sands, about three 
 hundred miles up from the western coasts of 
 Africa. Be this as it may, the Senegal is 
 well known to be navigable for more than 
 three hundred leagues up the country ; and 
 how much higher it may reach is not yet dis- 
 covered, as the dreadful fatality of the inland 
 parts of Africa, not only deters curiosity, but 
 even avarice, which is a much stronger pas- 
 sion. At the end of last war, of fifty English- 
 men that were sent to the factory at Galam, 
 a place taken from the French, and nine 
 hundred miles up the river, only one returned 
 to tell the fate of his companions, who were 
 destroyed by the climate. The celebrated 
 river Nile is said to be nine hundred aud 
 seventy leagues, from its source among the 
 Mountains of the Moon, in Upper ^Ethiopia, 
 to its opening into the Mediterranean Sea. 
 The sources of this river were considered as 
 inscrutable by the ancients; and the causes 
 of its periodical inundation wero equally un- 
 known. They have both been ascertained 
 by the missionaries who have travelled into 
 the interior parts of ^Ethiopia. The Nile 
 takes its rise in the kingdom of Gojam," from 
 a small aperture on the top of a mountain, 
 which, though not above a foot and a half 
 over, yet was unfathomable. This fountain, 
 when arrived at the foot of the mountain, ex- 
 pands into a river; and being joined by others, 
 forms a lake thirty leagues long, and as many 
 broad; from this, its channel, in some mea- 
 sure, winds back to the country where it first 
 began ; from thence, precipitating by fright- 
 ful cataracts, it travels through a variety of 
 desert regions, equally formidable, such as 
 Amhara, Olaca, Damot, and Xaoa. Upon its 
 arrival in the kingdom of Upper Egypt, it 
 runs through a rocky channel, which some 
 late travellers have mistaken for its cataracts. 
 In the beginning of its course, it receives 
 many lesser rivers into it; and Pliny was 
 mistaken in saying that it received none. In 
 the beginning also of its course, it has many 
 
 Kircher, Mund. Subt. vol. ii. p. 72. 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 windings; but,forabove three hundred leagues 
 from the sea, runs in a direct line. Its an- 
 nual overflowings arise from a very obvious 
 cause, which is almost universal with the 
 great rivers that take their source near the 
 line. The rainy season, which- is periodical 
 in those climates, floods the rivers ; and as 
 this always happens in our summer, so the 
 Nile is at that time overflown. From these 
 inundations, the inhabitants of Egypt derive 
 happiness and plenty; and, when the river 
 does not arise to its accustomed heights, they 
 prepare for an indifferent harvest. It begins 
 to overflow about the seventeenth of June; 
 it generally continues to augment for forty 
 days, and decreases in about as many more. 
 The time of increase and decrease, however, 
 is much more inconsiderable now than it was 
 among the ancients. Herodotus informs us, 
 that it was a hundred days rising, and as 
 many falling ; which shows that the inunda- 
 tion was much greater at that time than at 
 present. Mr. BufTon" has ascribed the pre- 
 sent diminution, as well to the lessening of the 
 Mountains of the Moon, by their substance 
 having so long been washed down with the 
 stream, as to the rising of the earth in Egypt, 
 that has for so many ages received this ex- 
 traneous supply. But we do not find, by the 
 buildings that have remained since the times 
 of the ancients, that the earth is much raised 
 since then. Besides the Nile in Africa, we 
 may reckon the Zara, and the Coanza, from 
 the greatness of whose openings into the sea, 
 and the rapidity of whose streams, we form 
 an estimate of the great distance from whence 
 they come. Their courses, however, are 
 spent in watering deserts and savage coun- 
 tries, whose poverty or fierceness have kept 
 strangers away. 
 
 But of all parts of the world, America, as 
 its exhibits the most lofty mountains, so also 
 it supplies the largest rivers. The foremost 
 of these is the great river Amazon, which, 
 from its source in the lake of Lauricocha, to 
 its discharge into the Western Ocean, per- 
 forms a course of more than twelve hundred 
 leagues. 11 The breadth and depth of this 
 river are answerable to its vast length ; and, 
 where its width is most contracted, its depth 
 
 Buffon, vol. ii. p. 82. 
 
 is augmented in proportion. So great is the 
 body of its waters, that other rivers, though 
 before the objects of admiration, are lost in 
 its bosom. It proceeds, after their junction, 
 with its usual appearance, without any visible 
 change in its breadth or rapidity ; and, if we 
 may so express it, remains great without os- 
 tentation. In some places it displays its whole 
 magnificence, dividing into several large 
 branches, and encompassing a multitude of 
 islands ; and, at length, discharging itself into 
 the ocean, by a channel of a hundred and 
 fifty miles broad. Another river, that may 
 almost rival the former, is the St. Lawrence, 
 in Canada, which rising in the lake Assini- 
 boils, passes from one lake to another, from 
 Christinaux to Alempigo; from thence to 
 lake Superior; thence to the lake Hurons; 
 to lake Erie; to lake Ontario; and, at last, 
 after a course of nine hundred leagues, pours 
 their collected waters into the Atlantic Ocean. 
 The river Mississippi is of more than seven 
 hundred leagues in length, beginning at its 
 source near the lake Assiniboils, and ending 
 at its opening into the gulf of Mexico. The 
 river Plate runs a length of more than eight 
 hundred leagues from its source in the river 
 Parana, to its mouth. The river Oroonoko 
 is seven hundred and fifty leagues in length, 
 from its source near Pasto, to its discharge 
 into the Atlantic Ocean. 
 
 Such is the amazing length of the greatest 
 rivers ; and even in some of these, the most 
 remote sources very probably yet continue 
 unknown. In fact, if we consider the num- 
 ber of rivers which they receive, and the little 
 acquaintance we have with the regions through 
 which they run, it is not to be wondered at 
 that geographers are divided concerning the 
 sources of most of them. As among a num- 
 ber of roots by which nourishment is con- 
 veyed to a stately tree, it is difficult to de- 
 termine precisely that by which the tree 
 is chiefly supplied ; so among the many 
 branches of a great river, it is equally difficult 
 to tell which is the original. Hence it may 
 easily happen, that a similar branch is taken 
 for the capital stream ; and its runnings are 
 pursued, and delineated, in prejudice of some 
 other branch that better deserved the name 
 
 b Ulloa, vol. i. p. 388. 
 
(54 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 and the description. In this manner,* in Eu- 
 rope, the Danube is known to receive thirty 
 lesser rivers ; the Wolga, thirty-two or thirty- 
 three. In Asia, the Hohanho receives thirty- 
 five; the Jenisca above sixty; the Oby as 
 many ; the Amour about forty ; the Nanquin 
 receives thirty rivers,; the Ganges twenty; 
 and the Euphrates about eleven. In Africa, 
 the Senegal receives more than twenty rivers; 
 the Nile receives not one for five hundred 
 leagues upwards, and then only twelve or 
 thirteen. In America, the river Amazon 
 receives above sixty, and those very consi- 
 derable ; the river St. Lawrence about forty, 
 counting those which fall into its lakes ; the 
 Mississippi receives forty; and the river Plate 
 above fifty. 
 
 I mentioned the inundations of the Ganges 
 and the Nile ; but almost every other great 
 river, whose source lies within the tropics, 
 have their stated inundations also. The river 
 Pegu has been called, by travellers, the In- 
 dian Nile, because of the similar overflowings 
 of its stream : this it does to an extent of 
 thirty leagues on each side ; and so fertilizes 
 the soil, that the inhabitants send great quan- 
 tities of rice into other countries, and have 
 still abundance for their own consumption. 
 The river Senegal has likewise its inunda- 
 tions, which cover the whole flat country of 
 Negroland, beginning and ending much about 
 the same time with those of the Nile ; as, in 
 fact, both rivers rise from the same mountains. 
 But the difference between the effects of the 
 inundations in each river is remarkable : in 
 the one, it distributes health and plenty; in 
 the other, diseases, famine, and death. The 
 inhabitants along the torrid coasts of the 
 Senegal, can receive no benefit from any ad- 
 ditional manure the river may carry down to 
 their soil, which is by nature more than suf- 
 ficiently luxuriant ; or, even if they could, 
 they have not industry to turn it to any ad- 
 vantage. The banks, therefore, of the rivers, 
 tie uncultivated, overgrown with rank and 
 noxious herbage, and infested with thousands 
 of animals of various malignity. Every new 
 flood only tends to increase the rankness of 
 the soil, and to provide fresh shelter for the 
 creatures that infest it. If the flood continues 
 
 8 Buffon. vol. ii. p. 74. 
 
 but a few days longer than usual, the impro- 
 vident inhabitants, who are driven up in the 
 higher grounds, want provisions, and a famine 
 ensues. When the river begins to return 
 into its channel, the humidity and heat of the 
 air are equally fatal ; and the carcases of in- 
 finite numbers of animals, swept away by the 
 inundation, putrefying in the sun, produce a 
 stench that is almost insupportable. But 
 even the luxuriance of the vegetation becomes 
 a nuisance. I have been assured, by persons 
 of veracity who have been up the river Sene- 
 gal, that there are some plants growing along 
 the coast, the smell of which is so powerful, 
 that it is hardly to be endured. It is certain, 
 that all the sailors and soldiers who have 
 been at any of our factories there, ascribe the 
 unwholesomeness of the voyage up the stream, 
 to the vegetable vapour. However this be, 
 the inundations of the rivers in this wretched 
 part of the globe, contribute scarcely any 
 advantage, if we except the beauty of the 
 prospects which they afford. These, indeed, 
 are finished beyond the utmost reach of art : 
 a spacious glassy river, with its banks here 
 and there fringed to the very surface by the 
 mangrove-tree that grows down into the wa- 
 ter, presents itself to view. Lofty forests of 
 various colours, with openings between, car- 
 peted with green plants, and the most gaudy 
 flowers ; beasts and animals of various kinds, 
 that stand upon the banks of the river, and, 
 with a sort of wild curiosity, survey the mari- 
 ners as they pass, contribute to heighten the 
 scene. This is the sketch of an African pros- 
 pect; which delights the eye, even while it 
 destroys the constitution. 
 
 Besides these annually periodical inunda- 
 tions, there are many rivers that overflow at 
 much shorter intervals. Thus most of those 
 in Peru and Chili have scarcely any motion 
 by night; but upon the appearance of the 
 morning sun, they resume their former ra- 
 pidity : this proceeds from the mountain 
 snows, which, melting with the heat, increase 
 the stream, and continue to drive on the cur- 
 rent while the sun continues to dissolve them. 
 Some rivers also flow with an even, steady 
 current, from their source to the sea ; others 
 flow with greater rapidity, their stream being 
 poured down in a cataract, or swallowed by 
 the sands, before they reach the sea. 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 65 
 
 The rivers of those countries that have 
 been least inhabited, are usually more rocky, 
 uneven, and broken into waterfalls or cata- 
 racts, than those where the industry of man 
 has "been more prevalent. Wherever man 
 comes, nature puts on a milder appearance : 
 the terrible and the sublime are exchanged 
 for the gentle and the useful ; the cataract is 
 sloped away into a placid stream; and the 
 banks become more smooth and even. a It 
 mast have required ages to render the Rhone 
 or the Loire navigable ; their beds must have 
 been cleaned and directed ; their inequalities 
 removed ; and, by a long course of industry, 
 nature must have been taught to conspire 
 with the desires of her controller. Every 
 one's experience must have supplied instances 
 of rivers thus being made to How more evenly, 
 and more beneficially to mankind ; but there 
 are some whose currents are so rapid, and 
 falls so precipitate, that no art can obviate , 
 and that must for ever remain as amazing in- 
 stances of incorrigible nature. 
 
 Of this kind are the cataracts of the Rhine; 
 one of which I have seen exhibit a very 
 strange appearance; it was that at Schaff- 
 hausen, which was frozen quite across, and 
 the water stood in columns where the cata- 
 ract had formerly fallen. The Nile, as was 
 said, has its cataracts. The river Vologda, 
 in Russia, has two. The river Zara, in 
 Africa, has one near its source. The river 
 Velino, in Italy, has a cataract of above a 
 hundred and fifty feet perpendicular. Near 
 the city of Gottenburgh, 1 ' in Sweden, the river 
 rushes down from a prodigious high precipice 
 into a deep pit, with a terrible noise, and 
 such dreadful force, that those trees designed 
 for the masts of ships, which are floated down 
 the river, are usually turned upside down in 
 their fall, and often are shattered to pieces, 
 by being dashed against the surface of the 
 water in the pit ; this occurs if the masts fall 
 sideways upon the water; but if they fall 
 endways, they dive so far under water that 
 they disappear for a quarter of an hour, or 
 more : the pit into which they are thus plung- 
 ed has been often sounded with a line of some 
 hundred fathoms long, but no ground has 
 been found hitherto. There is also a cata- 
 
 * Bufibn vol. ii. p. 90. 
 
 I ract at Powerscourt, in Ireland, in which, if I 
 am rightly informed, the water falls three 
 hundred feet perpendicular; which is a 
 greater descent than that of any other cata- 
 ract in any part of the world. There is a 
 cataract at Albany, in the province of New 
 York, which pours its stream fifty feet per- 
 pendicular But of all the cataracts in the 
 world, that of Niagara, in Canada, if we con- 
 sider the great body of water that falls, must 
 be allowed to be the greatest, and the most 
 astonishing 
 
 This amazing fall of water is made by the 
 river St. Lawrence, in its passage from the 
 lake Erie into the lake Ontario. We have 
 already said that St. Lawrence was one of 
 the largest rivers in the world ; and yet the 
 whole of its waters are here poured down by 
 a fall of a hundred and fifty feet perpendicu- 
 lar. It is not easy to bring the imagination 
 to correspond with the greatness of the scene; 
 a river extremely deep and rapid, and that 
 serves to drain the waters of almost all North 
 America into the Atlantic ocean, is here 
 poured precipitately down a ledge of rocks, 
 that rise like a wall, across the whole bed of 
 its stream. The width of the river, a little 
 above, is near three quarters of a mile broad, 
 and the rocks, where it grows narrower, are 
 four hundred yards over. Their direction is 
 not straight across, but hollowing inwards 
 like a horse-shoe ; so that the cataract, which 
 bends to the shape of the obstacle, rounding 
 inwards, presents a kind of theatre the most 
 tremendous in nature. Just in the middle 
 of this circular wall of waters, a little island, 
 that has braved the fury of the current, pre- 
 sents one of its points, and divides the stream 
 at top into two ; but it unites again long be- 
 fore it has got to the bottom. The noise of 
 the fall is heard at several leagues distance : 
 and the fury of the waters at the bottom of 
 their fall is inconceivable. The dashing pro- 
 duces a mist that rises to the very clouds ; 
 and that produces a most beautiful rainbow, 
 when the sun shines. It may easily be con- 
 ceived, that such a cataract quite destroys 
 the navigation of the stream ; and yet some 
 Indian canoes, as it is said, have been known 
 to venture down it with safety. 
 
 b Phil. Trans, vol. ii. p. 325. 
 
66 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 Of those rivers that lose themselves in the 
 sands, or are swallowed up by chasms in the 
 earth, we have various information. What 
 we are told by the ancients, of the river Al- 
 pheus, in Arcadia, that sinks into the ground, 
 and rises again near Syracuse, in Sicily, 
 where it takes the name of Arethusa, is ra- 
 ther more known than credited. But we 
 have better information with respect to the 
 river Tigris being lost in this manner under 
 Mount Taurus ; of the Guadilquiver in Spain, 
 being buried in the sands ; of the river 
 Greatah, in Yorkshire, running underground, 
 and rising again; and even of the great 
 Rhine itself, a part of which is no doubt lost 
 in the sands, a little above Leyden. But it 
 ought to be observed of this river, that by 
 much the greatest part arrives at the ocean : 
 for, although the ancient channel which fell 
 into the sea a little to the west of that city, 
 be now entirely choked up, yet there are 
 still a number of small canals, that carry a 
 great body of waters to the sea : and besides, 
 it has also two very large openings, the Lech, 
 and the Waal, below Rotterdam, by which it 
 empties itself abundantly. 
 
 Be this as it will, nothing is more common 
 in sultry and sandy deserts, than rivers being 
 thus either lost in the sands, or entirely dried 
 up by the sun. And hence we see, that un- 
 der the Line, the small rivers are but few ; 
 for such little streams as are common in Eu- 
 rope, and which with us receive the name 
 of rivers, would quickly evaporate, in those 
 parching and extensive deserts. It is even 
 confidently asserted, that the great river 
 Niger is thus lost before it reaches the ocean; 
 
 Krantz's History of Greenland, vol. i. p. 41. 
 
 and that its supposed mouths, the Gambia, 
 and the Senegal, are distinct rivers, that 
 come a vast way from the interior parts of 
 the country. It appears that the rivers un- 
 der the Line are large ; but it is otherwise at 
 the Poles, 8 where they must necessarily be 
 small. In that desolate region, as the moun- 
 tains are covered with perpetual ice, which 
 melts but little, or not at all, the springs and 
 rivulets are furnished with a very small sup- 
 ply. Here, therefore, man and beast would 
 perish, and die for thirst, if Providence had 
 not ordered, that in the hardest winter, thaws 
 should intervene, which deposit a small quan- 
 tity of snow-water in pools under the ice ; 
 and from this source the wretched inhabi- 
 tants drain a scanty beverage. 
 
 Thus, whatever quarter of the globe we 
 turn to, we shall find new reasons to be satis- 
 fied with that part of it in which we reside. 
 Our rivers furnish all the plenty of the Afri- 
 can stream, without its inundation; they have 
 all the coolness of the Polar rivulet, with a 
 more constant supply ; they may want the ter- 
 rible magnificence of huge cataracts, or ex- 
 tensive lakes, but they are more navigable, 
 and more transparent ; though less deep and 
 rapid than the rivers of the torrid zone, they 
 are more manageable, and only wait the will 
 of man to take their direction. The rivers 
 of the torrid zone, like the monarchs of the 
 country, rule with despotic tyranny, profuse 
 in their bounties, and ungovernable in their 
 rage. The rivers of Europe, like their kings, 
 are the friends, and not the oppressors of the 
 people ; bounded by known limits,and abridg- 
 ed in the power of doing ill, directed by hu- 
 man sagacity, and only at freedom to distri- 
 bute happiness and plenty. 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 67 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 OF THE OCEAN IN GENERAL; AND OF ITS SALTNESS. 
 
 IF we look upon a map of the world, we 
 shall find that the ocean occupies considera- 
 bly more of the globe, than the land is found 
 to do. This immense body of waters is dif- 
 fused round both the Old and New Conti- 
 nent, to the south ; and may surround them 
 also to the north, for what we know, but the 
 ice in those regions has stopped our inqui- 
 ries. Although the ocean, properly speak- 
 ing, is but one extensive sheet of waters, con- 
 tinued over every part of the globe, without 
 interruption, and although no part of it is di- 
 vided from the rest, yet geographers have 
 distinguished it by different names ; as the 
 Atlantic or Western Ocean, the Northern 
 Ocean, the Southern Ocean, the Pacific 
 Ocean, and the Indian Ocean. Others have 
 divided it differently, and given other names ; 
 as the Frozen Ocean, the Inferior Ocean, or 
 the American Ocean. But all these being 
 arbitrary distinctions, and not of Nature's 
 making, the naturalist may consider them 
 with indifference. 
 
 In this vast receptacle, almost all the rivers 
 of the earth ultimately terminate; nor do 
 such great supplies seem to increase its 
 stores ; for it is neither apparently swollen 
 by their tribute, nor diminished by their fai- 
 lure ; it still continues the same. Indeed, 
 what is the quantity of water of all the rivers 
 and lakes in the world, compared to that con- 
 tained in this great receptacle ? B If we 
 should offer to make a rude estimate, we shall 
 find that all the rivers in the world, flowing 
 into the bed of the sea, with a continuance 
 of their present stores, would take up at least 
 eight hundred years to till it to its present 
 height. For, supposing the sea to be eighty- 
 five millions of square miles in extent, and a 
 quarter of a mile upon an average in depth, 
 this, upon calculation, will give above twen- 
 ty-one millions of cubic miles of water, as the 
 contents of the whole ocean. Now, to esti- 
 
 Buffon, vol. ii. p. ~Q. 
 KO. 7- 
 
 mate the quantity of water which all the ri- 
 vers supply, take any one of them ; the Po, 
 for instance, the quantity of whose discharge 
 into the sea, is known to be one cubic mile 
 of water in twenty-six days. Now it will be 
 found, upon a rude computation, from the 
 quantity of ground the Po, Avith its influent 
 streams, covers, that all the the rivers of the 
 world furnish about two thousand times that 
 quantity of water. In the space of a year, 
 therefore, they will have discharged into the 
 sea about twenty-six thousand cubic miles of 
 water ; and not till eight hundred years, will 
 they have discharged as much water as is 
 contained in the sea at present. I have no<. 
 troubled the reader with the odd num- 
 bers, lest he should imagine I was giving 
 precision to a subject that is incapable of 
 it. 
 
 Thus great is the assemblage of waters dif- 
 fused round our habitable globe ; and yet. 
 immeasurable as they seem, they are mostly 
 rendered subservient to the necessities and 
 the conveniences of so little a being as man. 
 Nevertheless, if it should be asked whe- 
 ther they be made for him alone, the ques- 
 tion is not easily resolved. Some philoso- 
 phers have perceived so much analogy to 
 man in the formation of the ocean, that they 
 have not hesitated to assert its being made 
 for him alone. The distribution of land and 
 water, 1 " say they, is admirable ; the one being 
 laid against the other so skilfully, that there 
 is a just equipoise of the whole globe. Thus 
 the Northern Ocean balances against the 
 Southern ; and the New Continent is an ex- 
 act counterweight to the Old, As to any ob 
 jection from the ocean's occupying too large 
 a share of the globe, they contend, that there 
 could not have been a smaller surface em- 
 ployed to supply the earth with a due share 
 of evaporation. On the other hand, some 
 take the gloomy side of the question; they 
 
 b Derham's Physico-Theol. 
 T 
 
68 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 cither magnify 1 its apparent defects ; or as- 
 sert, that b what seems defects to us, may be 
 real beauties to some wiser order of beings. 
 They observe, that multitudes of animals are 
 concealed in the ocean, and but a small part 
 of them are known ; the rest, therefore, they 
 fail not to say, were certainly made for their 
 own benefit, and not for ours. How far ei- 
 ther of these opinions be just, I will not pre- 
 sume to determine; but of this we are cer- 
 tain, that God has endowed us with abilities 
 to turn this great extent of waters to our own 
 advantage. He has made these things, per- 
 haps, for other uses ; but he has given us fa- 
 culties to convert them to our own. This 
 much agitated question, therefore, seems to 
 terminate here. We shall never know whe- 
 ther the things of this world have been 
 made for our use; but we very well know 
 that we have been made to enjoy them. Let 
 us then boldly affirm, that the earth, and 
 all its wonders, are ours; since we are fur- 
 nished with powers to force them into our 
 service. Man is the lord of all the sublunary 
 creation ; the howling savage, the winding 
 serpent, with all the untameable and rebel- 
 lious offspring of nature, are destroyed in the 
 contest, or driven to a distance from his ha- 
 bitations. The extensive and tempestuous 
 ocean, instead of limiting or dividing his 
 power, only serves to assist his industry, and 
 enlarge the sphere of his enjoyments. Its 
 billows, and its monsters, instead of present- 
 ing a scene of terror, only call up the cou- 
 rage of this little intrepid being ; and the 
 greatest danger that man now fears on the 
 deep, is from his fellow-creatures. Indeed, 
 when I consider the human race as Nature 
 has formed them, there is but very little of 
 the habitable globe that seems made for 
 them. But when I consider them as accumu- 
 lating the experience of ages, in commanding 
 the earth, there is nothing so great, or so ter- 
 rible. What a poor contemptible being is the 
 naked savage, standing on the beach of the 
 ocean, and trembling at its tumults ! How 
 little capable is he of converting its terrors 
 into benefits; or of saying, behold an ele- 
 ment made wholly for my enjoyment ! He 
 considers it as an angry deity, and pays it 
 
 " Burner's Theory, passim. 
 
 the homage of submission. But it is very 
 different when he has exercised his mental 
 powers ; when he has learnt to find his own 
 superiority, and to make it subservient to his 
 commands. It is then that his dignity begins 
 to appear, and that the true Deity is justly- 
 praised for having been mindful of man ; for 
 having given him the earth for his habitation, 
 and the sea for an inheritance. 
 
 This power which man has obtained over 
 the ocean, was at first enjoyed in common , 
 and none pretended to a right in Liat ele- 
 ment where all seemed intruders. The sea, 
 therefore, was open to all till the time of the 
 emperor Justinian. His successor Leo grant- 
 ed such as were in possession of the shore 
 the sole right of fishing before their respec- 
 tive territories. The Thracian Bosphorus 
 was the first that was thus appropriated ; and 
 from that time it has been the struggle of 
 most of the powers of Europe to obtain an 
 exclusive right in this element. The repub- 
 lic of Venice claims the Adriatic. The Danes 
 are in possession of the Baltic. But the Eng- 
 lish have a more extensive claim to the em- 
 pire of all the seas encompassing the king- 
 doms of England, Scotland, and Ireland ; and 
 although these have been long contested, yet 
 they are now considered as their indisputa- 
 ble property. Every one knows that the 
 great power of the nation is exerted on this 
 element ; and that the instant England ceases 
 to be superior upon the ocean, its safety be- 
 gins to be precarious. 
 
 It is in some measure owing to our de- 
 pendance upon the sea, and to our commerce 
 there, that we are so well acquainted with its 
 extent and figure. The bays, gulfs, currents, 
 and shallows of the ocean, are much better 
 known and examined than the provinces and 
 kingdoms of the earth itself. The hopes of 
 acquiring wealth by commerce, has carried 
 man to much greater length than the desire 
 of gaining information could have done. In 
 consequence of this, there is scarcely a strait 
 or a harbour, scarcely a rock or a quicksand, 
 scarcely an inflexion of the shore, or the jut- 
 ting of a promontory, that has not been mi- 
 nutely described. But as these present very 
 little entertainment to the imagination, or de- 
 
 b Pope's Ethic Epistle, passim. 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 light to any but those whose pursuits are 
 lucrative, they need not be dwelt upon here. 
 While the merchant and the mariner are soli- 
 citous in describing currents and soundings, 
 the naturalist is employed in observing won- 
 ders, though not so beneficial, yet to him of a 
 much more important nature. The saltness 
 of the sea seems to be foremost. 
 
 Whence the sea has derived that peculiar 
 bitterish saltness which we find in it, appears, 
 by Aristotle, to have exercised the curiosity 
 of naturalists in all ages. He supposed (and 
 mankind were for ages content with the solu- 
 tion) that the sun continually raised dry sa- 
 line exhalations from the earth, and deposit- 
 ed them upon the sea ; and hence, say his 
 followers, the waters of the sea are more salt 
 at top than at bottom. But, unfortunately for 
 this opinion, neither of the facts is true. Sea- 
 salt is not to be raised by the vapours of the 
 sun ; and sea-water is not salter at the top 
 than at the bottom. Father Bohours is of 
 opinion that the Creator gave the waters of 
 the ocean their saltness at the beginning ; 
 not only to prevent their corruption, but to 
 enable them to bear greater burthens. But 
 their saltness does not prevent their corrup- 
 tion ; for stagnant sea-writer, like fresh, soon 
 grows putrid: and, as for their bearing great- 
 er burthens, fresh waters answer all the pur- 
 poses of navigation quite as well. The esta- 
 blished opinion, therefore, is that of Boyle," 
 who supposes, " that the sea's saltness is sup- 
 plied not only from rocks or masses of salt at 
 the bottom of the sea, but also from the salt 
 which the rains and rivers, and other waters, 
 dissolve in their passage through many parts 
 of the earth, and at length carry with them 
 to the sea." But as there is a difference in 
 the taste of rock-salt found at land, and that 
 dissolved in the waters of the ocean, this may 
 be produced by the plenty of nitrous and bitu- 
 minous bodies that, with the salts, are like- 
 wise washed into that great receptacle. These 
 substances being thus once carried to the 
 sea, must for ever remain there ; for they do 
 not rise by evaporation, so as to be returned 
 back from whence they came. Nothing but 
 the fresh waters of the sea rise in vapours ; 
 and all the saltness remains behind. Hence 
 
 Boyle, vol. iii. p. 221. 
 
 it follows, that every year the sea must be- 
 come more and more salt ; and this specula- 
 tion Doctor Halley carries so far as to lay 
 down a method of finding out the age of the 
 world by the saltness of its waters. " For if 
 it be observed," 1 " says he, " what quantity of 
 salt is at present contained in a certain weight 
 of water, taken up from the Caspian Sea, for 
 example, and, after some centuries, what great- 
 er quantity of salt is contained in the sanif 
 weight of water taken from the same place ; 
 we may conclude, that in proportion as the 
 saltness has increased in a certain time, 
 so much must it have increased before that 
 time ; and we may thus, by the rule of pro- 
 portion, make an estimate of the whole time 
 wherein the water would acquire the degree 
 of saltness it should be then possessed of." 
 All this may be fine ; however, an experi- 
 ment, begun in this century, which is not to 
 be completed till some centuries hence, is 
 rather a little mortifying to modern curiosity : 
 and, I am induced to think, the inhabitants 
 round the Caspian Sea will not be apt to un- 
 dertake the inquiry. t 
 
 This saltness is found to prevail in every 
 part of the ocean ; and as much at the sur- 
 lace as at the bottom. It is also found in all 
 those seas that communicate with the ocean; 
 but rather in a less degree. 
 
 The great lakes, likewise, that have no 
 outlets nor communication with the ocean, 
 are found to be salt: but some of them in 
 less proportion. On the contrary, all those 
 lakes through which rivers run into the sea, 
 however extensive they be, are, notwithstand- 
 ing very fresh: for the rivers do not deposite 
 their salts in the bed of the lake, but carry 
 them, with their currents, intotheocean. Thus 
 the lakes Ontario and Erie,in North America, 
 although for magnitude they may be consi- 
 dered as inland seas, are, nevertheless, fresh- 
 water lakes ; and kept so by the river St. 
 Lawrence, which passes through them. But 
 those lakes that have no communication with 
 the sea, nor any rivers going out, although 
 they be less than the former, are, however, 
 always salt. Thus, that which goes by the 
 name of the Dead Sea, though very small, 
 when compared to those already mentioned, 
 
 b Phil. Trans, vol. v. p. 218, 
 
70 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 is so exceedingly salt, that its waters seem 
 scarcely capable of dissolving any more. 
 The lakes of Mexico, and of Titicaca, in 
 Peru, though of no great extent, are, ne- 
 vertheless, salt; and botli for the same 
 reason. 
 
 Those who are willing to turn all things to 
 the best, have not failed to consider this salt- 
 ness of the sea as a peculiar blessing from 
 Providence, in order to keep so great an ele- 
 ment sweet and wholesome. What founda- 
 tion there may be in the remark, I will not 
 pretend to determine ; but we shall shortly 
 find a much better cause for its being kept 
 sweet, namely, its motion. 
 
 On the other hand, there have been many 
 who have considered the subject in a differ- 
 ent light, and have tried every endeavour to 
 make salt-water fresh, so as to supply the 
 wants of mariners in long voyages, or when 
 exhausted of their ordinary stores. At first 
 it was supposed simple distillation would do; 
 but it was soon found that the bitter part of 
 the water still kept mixed. It was then tried 
 by uniting salt of tartar with sea-water, and 
 distilling both; but here the expense was 
 greater than the advantage. Calcined bones 
 were next thought of; but a hogshead of cal- 
 cined bones, carried to sea, would take up 
 as much room as a hogshead of water, and 
 was more hard to be obtained. In this state, 
 therefore, have the attempts to sweeten sea- 
 water rested ; the chymist satisfied with the 
 reality of his invention ; and the mariner con- 
 vinced of its being useless. I cannot, there- 
 fore, avoid mentioning a kind of succeda- 
 neum which has been lately conceived to an- 
 swer the purposes of fresh water, when ma- 
 riners are quite exhausted. It is well known, 
 the persons who go into a warm bath, come 
 out several ounces heavier than they went 
 in; their bodies having imbibed a corres- 
 pondent quantity of water. This more par- 
 ticularly happens, if they have been previous- 
 ly debarred from drinking, or go in with a 
 violent thirst; which they quickly find 
 quenched, and their spirits restored. It was 
 supposed, that in case of a total failure of 
 fresh-water at sea, a warm bath might be 
 made of sea-water, for the use of mariners ; 
 and that their pores would thus imbibe the 
 fluid, without any of its salts, which would be 
 
 I seen to crystallize on the surface of their bo- 
 I dies. In this manner, it is supposed, a suffi- 
 cient quantity of moisture may be procured 
 to sustain life, till time or accident furnish 
 a more copious supply. 
 
 But, however this be, the saltness of the 
 sea can by no means be considered as a prin- 
 cipal cause in preserving its waters from pu- 
 trefaction. The ocean has its currents, like 
 rivers, which circulate its contents round the 
 globe ; and these may be said to be the great 
 agents that keep it sweet and wholesome. 
 Its saltness alone would, by no means, answer 
 this purpose : and some have even imagined 
 that the various substances with which it is 
 mixed, rather tend to promote putrescence 
 than impede it. Sir Robert Hawkins, one of 
 our most enlightened navigators, gives the 
 following account of a calm, in which the sea 
 continuing for some time without motion, be- 
 gan to assume a very formidable appearance. 
 " Were it not," says he, " for the moving of 
 the sea, by the force of winds, tides, and cur- 
 rents, it would corrupt all the world. The 
 experiment of this I saw in the year 1590, 
 lying with a fleet about the islands of Azores, 
 almost six months; the greatest part of which 
 time we were becalmed. Upon which all the 
 sea became so replenished with several sorts 
 of jellies, and forms of serpents, adders, and 
 snakes, as seemed wonderful : some green, 
 some black, some yellow, some white, some 
 of divers colours, and many of them had life ; 
 and some there were a yard and a half, and 
 two yards long ; which had I not seen, I could 
 hardly have believed. And hereof are wit- 
 nesses all the company of the ships which 
 were then present : so that hardly a man 
 could draw a bucket of water clear of some 
 corruption. In which voyage, towards the 
 end thereof, many of every ship fell sick, and 
 began to die apace. But the speedy passage 
 into our country was a remedy to the crazed, 
 and a preservative for those that were not 
 touched." 
 
 This shows, abundantly, how little the sea's 
 saltness was capable of preserving it from 
 putrefaction : but, to put the matter beyond 
 all doubt, Mr. Boyle kept a quantity of sea- 
 water, taken up in the English Channel, for 
 some time barrelled up ; and, in the space 
 of a few weeks, it began to acquire a fetid 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 smell :' he was also assured, by one of his ac- 
 quaintance, who was becalmed for twelve or 
 fourteen days in the Indian sea, that the 
 water, for want of motion, began to stink; 
 and that had it continued much longer, the 
 stench would probably have poisoned him. 
 It is the motion, therefore, and not the salt- 
 ness of the sea, that preserves it in its present 
 state of salubrity; and this, very probably, 
 by dashing and breaking in pieces the rudi- 
 ments, if I may so call them, of the various 
 animals that would otherwise breed there, 
 and putrefy. 
 
 There are some advantages, however, which 
 are derii ed from the saltness of the sea. Its 
 waters be t ng evaporated, furnish that salt 
 which is use ; *or domestic purposes; and, 
 although In some places it is made from 
 springs, and, ii otners, dug out of mines, yet 
 the greatest quantity is made only from the 
 sea. That which is called bay-salt, (from 
 its coming to us by the Bay of Biscay,) is a 
 stronger kind, made by evaporation in the 
 sun : that called common salt, is evaporated 
 in pans over the fire, and is of a much inferior 
 quality to the former. 
 
 Another benefit arising from the quantity 
 of salt dissolved in the sea, is, that it thus 
 becomes heavier, and, consequently, more 
 buoyant. Mr. Boyle, who examined the dif- 
 ference between sea-water and fresh, found 
 that the former appeared to be about a forty- 
 fifth part heavier than the latter. Those, 
 also, who have had opportunities of bathing 
 in the sea, pretend to have experienced a 
 much greater ease in swimming there, than 
 in fresh-water. However, as we see they 
 have only a forty-fifth part more of their 
 weight s-ustained by it, I am apt to doubt 
 whether so minute a difference can be prac- 
 tically perceivable. Be this as it may, as 
 sea-water alters in its weight from fresh, so 
 it is found also to differ from itself in different 
 parts of the ocean. In general, it is per- 
 ceived to be heavier, and consequently salter, 
 the nearer we approach the Line. b 
 
 But there is an advantage arising from the 
 saltness of the waters of the sea, much greater 
 than what has been yet mentioned ; which is, 
 
 a Boyle, vol. iii. p. 222. 
 
 Phil. Trans, vol. ii. p. 297- Macrobius. 
 
 that their congelation is thus retarded. Some, 
 indeed, have gone so far as to say, that c sea- 
 water never freezes : but this is an assertion 
 contradicted by experience. However, it is 
 certain that it requires a much greater degree 
 of cold to freeze it than fresh-water ; so that, 
 while rivers and springs are seen converted 
 into one solid body of ice, the sea is always 
 fit for navigation, and no way affected by the 
 coldness of the severest winter. It is, there- 
 fore, one of the greatest blessings we derive 
 from this element, that when at land all the 
 stores of Nature arc locked up from us, we 
 find the sea ever open to our necessities, and 
 patient of the hand of industry. 
 
 But it must not be supposed, because in 
 our temperate climate we never see the sea 
 frozen, that it is in the same manner open in 
 every part of it. A very little acquaintance 
 with the accounts of mariners, must have in- 
 formed us, that at the polar regions it is em- 
 barrassed with mountains, and moving sheets 
 of ice, that often render it impassable. These 
 tremendous floats are of different magnitudes; 
 sometimes rising more than a thousand fee- 
 above the surface of the water;' 1 sometimes 
 diffused into plains of above two hundred 
 leagues in length ; and, in many parts, sixty 
 or eighty broad. They are usually divided 
 by fissures ; one piece following another so 
 close, that a person may step from one to the 
 other. Sometimes mountains are seen rising 
 amidst these plains, and presenting the ap- 
 pearance of a variegated landscape, with hills 
 and valleys, houses, churches, and towers. 
 These are appearances in which all natu- 
 ralists are agreed ; but the great contest is 
 respecting their formation. Mr. Buffon as- 
 serts," that they are formed from fresh-water 
 alone ; which congealing at the mouths of 
 great rivers, accumulate those huge masses 
 that disturb navigation. However, this great 
 naturalist seems not to have been aware that 
 there are two sorts of ice floating in these 
 seas; the flat ice, and the mountain ice : the 
 one formed of sea-water only, the other of 
 fresh/ 
 
 The flat, or driving ice, is entirely com- 
 posed of sea-water; which, upon dissolution, 
 
 d Krantz's History of Greenland, vol. i. p. 31. 
 ' Buffon, vol. ii. p. 91. * Krantz. 
 
72 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 is found to be salt; and is readilydistinguished 
 from the mountain or fresh-water ice, by its 
 whiteness, and want of transparency. This 
 ice is much more terrible to mariners than 
 that which rises up in lumps : a ship can 
 avoid the one, as it is seen at a distance ; but 
 it often gets in among the other, which some- 
 times closing, crushes it to pieces. This, 
 which manifestly has a different origin from 
 the fresh-water ice, may perhaps have been 
 produced in the Icy Sea, beneath the Pole ; or 
 along the coasts of Spitzberg, or Nova Zembla. 
 The mountain-ice, as was said, is different 
 in every respect, being formed of fresh-water, 
 and appearing hard and transparent; it is 
 generally of a pale green colour, though some 
 pieces are of a beautiful sky blue; many large 
 masses, also, appear gray; and some black. 
 If e::r.mined more nearly, they are found to 
 be incorporated with earth, stones, and brush- 
 wood, w r ashed from the shore. On these 
 also are sometimes found, not only earth, but 
 nests with birds' eggs, at several hundred 
 miles from land. The generality of these, 
 though almost totally fresh, have, neverthe- 
 less, a thick crust of salt-water frozen upon 
 them, probably from the power that ice has 
 sometimes to produce ice. Such mountains 
 as are here described, are most usually 
 seen at spring-time, and after a violent storm, 
 driving out to sea, where they at first terrify 
 the mariner, and are soon after dashed to 
 pieces by the continual washing of the waves; 
 or driven into the warmer regions of the 
 south, there to be melted away. They some- 
 times, however, strike back upon their native 
 shores, where they seem to take root at the 
 feet of mountains ; and, as Martius tells- us, 
 are sometimes higher than the mountains 
 themselves. Those seen by him were blue, 
 full of clefts and cavities made by the rain, 
 and crowned with snow, which alternately 
 thawing and freezing every year, augmented 
 their size. These, composed of materials 
 more solid than that driving at sea, presented 
 a variety of agreeable figures to the eye, that, 
 with a little help from fancy, assumed the 
 appearance of trees in blossom ; the inside 
 of churches, with arches, pillars, and win- 
 dows; and the blue coloured rays,darting from 
 within, presented the resemblance of a glory. 
 If we inquire into the origin and formation 
 
 of these, which, as we see, are very different 
 from the former, I think we have a very satis- 
 factory account of them in Krantz's History 
 of Greenland; and I will take leave to give 
 the passage, with a very few alterations. 
 " These mountains of ice," says he, " are not 
 salt, like the sea-water, but sweet; and, 
 therefore, can be formed no where except 
 on the mountains, in rivers, in caverns, and 
 against the hills near the sea-shore. The 
 mountains of Greenland are so high, that the 
 snow which falls upon them, particularly on 
 the north side, is, in one night's time, wholly- 
 converted into ice : they also contain clefts 
 and cavities, where the sun seldom or never 
 injects his rays : besides these, are projec- 
 tions, or landing places, on the declivities of 
 the steepest hills, where the rain and snow- 
 water lodge, and quickly congeal. When 
 now the accumulated Hakes of snow slide 
 down, or fall with the rain from the eminences 
 above on these prominences; or, when here 
 and there a mountain-spring comes rolling 
 down to such a lodging place, where the ice 
 has already seated itself, they all freeze, and 
 add their tribute to it. This, by degrees, 
 waxes to a body of ice, that can no more be 
 overpowered by the sun ; and which, though 
 it may indeed, at certain seasons, diminish 
 by a thaw, yet, upon the whole, through an- 
 nual acquisitions, it assumes an annual 
 growth. Such a body of ice is often promi- 
 nent far over the rocks. It does not melt on 
 the upper surface, but underneath ; and often 
 cracks into many larger or smaller clefts, 
 from whence the thawed water trickles out. 
 By this it becomes, at last, so weak, that be- 
 ing overloaded with its own ponderous bulk 
 it breaks loose and tumbles down the rocks 
 with a terrible crash. Where it happens to 
 overhang a precipice on the shore, it plung- 
 es into the deep with a shock like thunder : 
 and with such an agitation of the water, as 
 will overset a boat at some distance, as many 
 a poor Greenlander has fatally experienced." 
 Thus are these amazingice mountains launch- 
 ed forth to sea, and found floating in the wa- 
 ters round both the Poles. It is these that have 
 hindered mariners from discovering the ex- 
 tensive countries that lie round the South 
 Pole : and that probably block up the pas 
 sage to China bv the North. 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 73 
 
 I will conclude this chapter with one effect 
 more, produced by the saltness of the sea ; 
 which is, the luminous appearance of its 
 waves in the night. All who have been spec- 
 tators of a sea by night, a little ruffled with 
 winds, seldom fail of observing its fiery 
 brightness. In "some places it shines as far 
 as the eye can reach ; at other times, only 
 "when the waves boom against the side of the 
 vessel, or the oar dashes into the water. 
 Some seas shine often ; others more seldom ; 
 some, ever when particular winds blow ; and 
 others, within a narrow compass ; a long 
 tract of light being seen along the surface, 
 whilst all the rest is hid in total darkness. 
 It is not easy to account for these extraordi- 
 
 nary appearances : some have supposed that 
 a number of luminous insects produced the 
 effect, and this is in reality sometimes the 
 case ; in general, however, they have every 
 resemblance to that light produced by elec- 
 tricity ; and, probably, arise from the agita- 
 tion and dashing of the saline particles of the 
 fluid against each other. But the manner in 
 which this is done, (for we can produce no- 
 thing similar by any experiments hitherto 
 made,) remains for some happier accident to 
 discover. Our progress in the knowledge 
 of Nature is slow ; and it is a mortifying 
 consideration, that we are hitherto more 
 indebted for success to chance than 
 d us try. 
 
 in- 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 OF THE TIDES, MOTION, AND CURRENTS OF THE SEA; WITH THEIR 
 
 EFFECTS. 
 
 IT was said, in the former chapter, that the i 
 waters of the sea were kept sweet by their 
 motion, without which they would soon pu- 
 trefy, and spread universal infection. If we 
 look for final causes, here, indeed, we have 
 a great and an obvious one that presents itself 
 before us. Had the sea been made without 
 motion, and resembling a pool of stagnant 
 water, the nobler races of animated nature 
 would shortly be at an end. Nothing would 
 then be left alive but swarms of ill-formed 
 creatures, with scarcely more than vegetable 
 life ; and subsisting by putrefaction. Were 
 this extensive bed of waters entirely quies- 
 cent, millions of the smaller reptile kinds 
 would there find a proper retreat to breed 
 and multiply in ; they would find there no 
 agitation, no concussion in the parts of the 
 fluid to crush their feeble frames, or to force 
 them from the places where they were bred ; 
 there they would multiply in security and 
 ease, enjoy a short life, and putrefying, thus 
 again give nourishment to numberless other, 
 as little worthy of existence as themselves. 
 
 Boyle, vol. i. p. 294. 
 
 But the motion of this great element effectu- 
 ally destroys the number of these viler crea- 
 tures ; its currents and its tides produce con- 
 tinual agitations, the shock of which they 
 are not able to endure; the parts of the fluid 
 rub against each other, destroy all viscidi- 
 ties ; and the ocean, if I may so express it, 
 acquires health by exercise. 
 
 The most obvious motion of the sea, and 
 the most generally acknowledged, is that of 
 its tides. This element is observed to flow 
 for certain hours, from south towards the 
 north ; in which motion or flux, which lasts 
 about six hours, the sea gradually swells; so 
 that entering the mouths of rivers, it drives 
 back the river waters to their heads. After 
 a continual flux of six hours, the sea seems 
 to rest for a quarter of an hour; and then 
 begins to ebb, or retire back again, from 
 north to south, for six hours more ; in which 
 time the waters sinking, the rivers resume 
 their natural course. After a seeming pause 
 of a quarter of an hour, the sea again begins 
 to flow as before : and thus it has alternate- 
 ly risen and fallen, twice a day, since the 
 creation. 
 
74 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 This amazing appearance did not fail to 
 excite the curiosity, as it did the wonder of 
 the ancients. After some wild conjectures 
 of the earliest philosophers, it became well 
 known, in the time of Pliny, that the tides 
 were entirely under the influence, in a small 
 degree, of the sun ; but in a much greater, 
 of the moon. It was found that there was a 
 flux and reflux of the sea, in the space of 
 twelve hours fifty minutes, which is exactly 
 the time of a lunar day. It was observed, 
 that whenever the moon was in the meridian, 
 or, in other words, as nearly as possible over 
 any part of the sea, that the sea flowed to 
 that part, and made a tide there ; on the con- 
 trary, it was found, that when the moon left 
 the meridian, the sea began to flow back 
 again from whence it came ; and there might 
 be said to ebb. Thus far the waters of the 
 sea seemed very regularly to attend the mo- 
 tions of the moon. But it appeared, likewise, 
 that when the moon was in the opposite me- 
 ridian, as far off on the other side of the 
 globe, that there was a tide on this side also ; 
 so that the moon produced two tides, one by 
 her greatest approach to us ; and another by 
 her greatest distance from us : in other words, 
 the moon, in once going round the earth, 
 produced two tides, always at the same 
 time ; one on the part of the globe directly 
 under her ; and the other, on the part of the 
 globe directly opposite. 
 
 Mankind continued for several ages con- 
 tent with knowing the general cause of these 
 wonders, hopeless of discovering the parti- 
 cular manner of the moon's operation. Kep- 
 ler was the first who conjectured that attrac- 
 tion was the principal cause ; asserting, that 
 the sphere of the moon's operation extended 
 to the earth, and drew up its waters. The 
 precise manner in which this is done, was 
 discovered by Newton. 
 
 The moon has been found, like all the rest 
 of the planets, to attract, and to be attracted 
 by the earth. This attraction prevails 
 throughout our whole planetary system. The 
 more matter there is contained in any body, 
 the more it attracts : and its influence de- 
 creases in proportion as the distance, when 
 squared, increases. This being premised, 
 Jet us see what must ensue upon supposing 
 tl le moon in the meridian of any tract of the j 
 
 sea. The surface of the water immediately 
 under the moon is nearer the moon than any 
 other part of the globe is ; and, therefore, 
 must be more subject to its attraction than 
 the waters any where else. The waters will, 
 therefore, be attracted by the moon, and rise 
 in a heap ; whose eminence will be the high- 
 est where the attraction is greatest. In or- 
 der to form this eminence, it is obvious that 
 the surface, as well as the depths, will be 
 agitated ; and that wherever the water runs 
 from one part, succeeding waters must run 
 to fill up the space it has left. Thus the 
 waters of the sea, running from all parts, to 
 attend the motion of the moon, produce the 
 flowing of the tide ; and it is high tide at that 
 part wherever the moon comes over it, or to 
 its meridian. 
 
 But when the moon travels onward, and 
 ceases to point over the place where the wa- 
 ters were just risen, the cause here of their 
 rising ceasing to operate, they will flow back 
 by their natural gravity, into the lower parts 
 from whence they had travelled; and this 
 retiring of the waters will form the ebbing of 
 the sea. 
 
 Thus the first part of the demonstration is 
 obvious ; since, in general, it requires no 
 great sagacity to conceive that the waters 
 nearest the moon are most attracted, or rais- 
 ed highest by the moon. But the other part 
 of the demonstration, namely, how there 
 come to be high tides at the same time, on 
 the opposite side of the globe, and where 
 the waters are farthest from the moon, is not 
 so easy to conceive. To comprehend this, 
 it must be observed, that the part of the 
 earth and its waters that are farthest from 
 the moon are the parts of all others that are 
 least attracted by the moon : it must also be 
 observed, that all the waters, when the moon 
 is on the opposite side of the earth, must be 
 attracted by it in the same direction that the 
 earth itself attracts them ; that is, if I may 
 so say, quite through the body of the earth, 
 towards the moon itself. This, therefore, 
 being conceived, it is plain that those waters 
 which are farthest from the moon, will have 
 less weight than those of any other part, on 
 the same side of Ihe globe; because the 
 moon's attraction, which conspires with the 
 earth's attraction, is there least. Now. there- 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 75 
 
 fore, the waters farthest from the moon, hav- 
 ing less weight, and being lightest, will be 
 pressed on all sides, by those that, having 
 more attraction, are heavier; they will be 
 pressed, I say, on all sides ; and the heavier 
 waters (lowing in, will make them swell and 
 rise in an eminence directly opposite to 
 that on the other side of the globe, caused 
 by the more immediate influence of the 
 moon. 
 
 In this manner the moon, in one diurnal re- 
 volution, produces two tides; one raised im- 
 mediately under the sphere of its influence, 
 and the other directly opposite to it. As 
 the moon travels, this vast body of waters 
 rears upward, as if to watch its motions ; and 
 pursues the same constant rotation. How- 
 ever, in this great work of raising the tides, 
 the sun has no small share ; it produces its 
 own tides constantly every day, just as the 
 moon does, but in much less degree, because 
 the eun is at an immensely greater distance. 
 Thus there are solar tides, and lunar tides. 
 When the forces of these two great lumina- 
 ries concur, which they always do when they 
 are either in the same, or in opposite parts 
 of the heavens, they jointly produce a much 
 greater tide, than when they are so situated 
 in the heavens, as each to make peculiar 
 tides of their own. To express the very 
 same thing technically ; in the conjunctions 
 and oppositions of the sun and moon, the attrac- 
 tion of the sun conspires with the attraction of 
 the moon ; by which means the high spring 
 tides are formed. But in the quadratures of 
 the sun and moon, the water raised by the 
 one is depressed by the other ; and hence 
 the lower neap-tides have their production. 
 In a word, the tides are greatest in the syzi- 
 gies, and least in the quadratures. 
 
 This theory well understood, and the as- 
 tronomical terms previously known, it may 
 readily be brought to explain the various ap- 
 pearances of the tides, if the earth were co- 
 vered with a deep sea, and the waters unin- 
 fluenced by shoals, currents, straits, or tem- 
 pests. But in every part of the sea, near the 
 shores, the geographer must come in to cor- 
 rect the calculations of the astronomer. For, 
 by reason of the shallowness of some places, 
 and the narrowness of the straits in others, 
 there arises a great diversity in the effect. 
 
 U 
 
 not to be accounted for without an exact 
 knowledge of all the circumstances of the 
 place. In the great depths of the ocean, for 
 instance, a very slow and imperceptible mo- 
 tion of the whole body of water will suffice 
 to raise its surface several feet high ; but if 
 the same increase of water is to be conveyed 
 through a narrow channel, it must rush 
 through it with the most impetuous rapidity. 
 Tims, in the English Channel, and the Ger- 
 man Ocean, the tide is found to flow strong- 
 est in those places that are narrowest ; the 
 same quantity of water being, in this case, 
 driven through a smaller passage. It is of- 
 ten seen, therefore, pouring through a strait 
 with great force ; and, by its rapidity, consi- 
 derably raised above the surface of that par! 
 of the ocean into which it runs. 
 
 This shallowness and narrowness in many 
 parts of the sea, give also rise to a peculiari- 
 ty in the tides of some parts of the world. 
 For in many places, and in our own seas in 
 particular, the greatest swell of the tide i? 
 not while the moon is in its meridian height, 
 and directly over the place, but some time 
 after it has declined from thence. The sea, 
 in this case, being obstructed, pursues the 
 moon with what despatch it can, but does not 
 arrive with all its waters till long after the 
 moon has ceased to operate. Lastly, from 
 this shallowness of the sea, and from its be- 
 ing obstructed by shoals and straits, we may 
 account for the Mediterranean, the Baltic, 
 and the Black Sea, having no sensible tides. 
 These, though to us they seem very exten- 
 sive, are not however large enough to be af- 
 fected by the influence of the moon ; and as 
 to their communication with the ocean, 
 through such narrow inlets, it is impossible 
 in a few hours they should receive and re- 
 turn water enough to raise or depress them 
 in any considerable degree. 
 
 In general we may observe, that all tides 
 are much higher, and more considerable in 
 the torrid zone, than in the rest of the ocean ; 
 the sea in those parts being generally deep- 
 er, and less affected by changeable winds, or 
 winding shores." The greatest tide we know 
 of, is that at the mouth of the river Indus, 
 where the water rises thirty feet in height. 
 
 Bufibn, vol. ii. p. 1 87- 
 
76 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 How great, therefore, must have been the 
 amazement of Alexander's soldiers at so 
 strange an appearance ! They who always 
 before had been accustomed only to the 
 scarcely perceptible risings of the Mediter- 
 ranean, or the minute intumescence of the 
 Black Sea, when made at once spectators of 
 a river rising and falling thirty feet in a few 
 hours, must no doubt have felt the most ex- 
 treme awe, and, as we are told, a a mixture of 
 curiosity and apprehension. The tides are 
 also remarkably high on the coast of Malay, 
 in the straits of Sunda, in the Red Sea, at 
 the mouth of the river St. Lawrence, along 
 the coasts of China and Japan, at Panama, and 
 in the gulf of Bengal. The tides of Ton- 
 quin, however, are the most remarkable in 
 the world. In this part there is but one tide, 
 and one ebb, in twenty-four hours ; whereas, 
 as we have said before, in other places there 
 are two. Besides, there, twice in each month 
 there is no tide at all, when the moon is near 
 the equinoctial, the water being for some 
 time quite stagnant. These, with some other 
 odd appearances attending the same phasno- 
 mena, were considered by many as inscruta- 
 ble ; but Sir Isaac Newton, with peculiar sa- 
 gacity, adjudged them to arise from the con- 
 currence of two tides, one from the South 
 Sea, and the other from the Indian Ocean. 
 Of each of these tides there come successive- 
 ly two every day ; two at one time greater, 
 and two at another that are less. The time 
 between the arrival of the two greater, is 
 considered by him as high tide ; the time 
 between the two lesser, as ebb. In short, 
 with this clue, that great mathematician solv- 
 ed every appearance, and so established 
 his theory, as to silence every opposer. 
 
 This fluctuation of the sea from the tides, 
 produces another, and more constant rota- 
 tion of its waters, from the east to the west, 
 in this respect following the course of the 
 moon. This may be considered as one great 
 and general current of the waters of the sea; 
 and although it be not every where distin- 
 guishable, it is nevertheless every where ex- 
 istent, except when opposed by some parti- 
 cular current or eddy, produced by partial 
 and local causes. This tendency of the sea 
 
 * Quintus Curtius. 
 
 towards the west is plainly perceivable in 
 all the great straits of the ocean ; as, for in- 
 stance, in those of Magellan, where the tide 
 running in from the east., rises twenty feei 
 high, and continues flowing six hours; where- 
 as the ebb continues but two hours, and the 
 current is directed to the west This proves 
 that the flux is not equal to the reflux ; and 
 that from both results a motion of the sea 
 westward, which is more powerful during the 
 time of the flux than the reflux. 
 
 But this motion westward has been sensi- 
 bly observed by navigators, in their passage 
 back from India to Madagascar, and so on 
 to Africa. In the great Pacific Ocean also it 
 is very perceivable : but the places where it 
 is most obvious, are, as was said, in those 
 straits which join one ocean to another. In 
 the straits between the Maldivia islands, in 
 the gulf of Mexico, between Cuba and Ju- 
 catan. In the straits of the gulf of Paria, 
 the motion is so violent, that it hath received 
 the appellation of the Dragon's Mouth. North- 
 ward in the sea of Canada, in Waigat's straits, 
 in the straits of Java, and, in short, in every 
 strait where the ocean on one part pours in- 
 to the ocean on the other. In this manner, 
 therefore, is the sea carried with an unceas- 
 ing circulation round the globe; and, at the 
 same time that its waters are pushed back 
 and forward with the tide, they have thus a 
 progressive current to the west, which though 
 less observa>\e, is not the less real. 
 
 Besides these two general motions of the 
 sea, there are others which are particular to 
 many parts of it, and are called currents. 
 These are found to run in all directions, east, 
 west, north, and south ; being formed, as was 
 said above, by various causes; the promi- 
 nence of the shores, the narrowness of the 
 straits, the variations of the wind, and the in- 
 equalities at the bottom. These, though no 
 great object to the philosopher, as their 
 causes are generally local and obvious, are 
 nevertheless of the most material conse- 
 quence to the mariner ; and, without a know- 
 ledge of which, he could never succeed. It 
 often has happened, that when a ship has 
 unknowingly got into one of these, every 
 thing seems to go forward with success, the 
 mariners suppose themselves every hour ap- 
 proaching their wished-for port, the wind fills 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 77 
 
 their sails, and the ship's prow seems to di- 
 vide the water ; but, at last, by miserable 
 experience they find, that instead of going 
 forward, they have been all the time reced- 
 ing. The business of currents, therefore, 
 makes a considerable article in navigation; 
 and the direction of (heir stream, and their 
 rapidity has been carefully set down. This 
 some do by the observation of the surface of 
 the current ; or by the driving of the froth 
 along the shore ; or by throwing out what is 
 called the log-line, with a buoy made for 
 that purpose ; and by the direction and mo- 
 tion of this, they judge of the setting, and the 
 rapidity of the current. 
 
 These currents are generally found to be 
 most violent under the equator, where in- 
 deed all the motions of the ocean are most 
 perceivable. Along the coasts of Guinea, if 
 a ship happens to overshoot the mouth of any 
 river it is bound to, the current prevents its 
 return ; so that it is obliged to steer out to 
 sea, and take a very large compass, in order 
 to correct the former mistake. These set in 
 a contrary direction to the general motion of 
 the sea westward ; and that so strongly, that 
 a passage which with the current is made in 
 two days, is with difficulty performed in six 
 weeks against it. However, they do not ex- 
 tend above twenty leagues from the coast : 
 and ships going to the East Indies, take care 
 not to come within the sphere of their action. 
 At Sumatra, the currents, which are extreme- 
 ly rapid, run from south to north ; there are 
 also strong currents between Madagascar 
 and the Cape of Good Hope. On the west- 
 ern coasts of America, the current always 
 runs from the south to the north, where a 
 south wind, continually blowing, most proba- 
 bly occasions this phaenomenon. But the 
 currents that are most remarkable, and those 
 continually flowing, into the Mediterranean 
 sea, both from the ocean by the straits of 
 Gibralter, and at its other extremity, from 
 the Euxine sea by the Archipelago. This 
 is one of the most extraordinary appear- 
 ances in nature, this large sea receiving not 
 only the numerous rivers that fall into it, such 
 as the Nile, the Rhone, and the Po, but also 
 a very great influx from the Euxine sea on 
 one part, and the Ocean on the other. At 
 the same time, it is seen to return none of 
 
 those waters it is thus known to receive : 
 outlets running from it there are none ; no 
 rivers but such as bring it fresh supplies; no 
 straits but what are constantly pouring their 
 waters into it. It has therefore been the 
 wonder of mankind in every age, how and 
 by what means this vast concourse of waters 
 are disposed of; or how this sea, which is 
 always receiving, and never returning, is no 
 way fuller than before. In order to account 
 for this, some have said, that the water was 
 re-conveyed by subterraneous passages into 
 the Red Sea.* There is a story told of an 
 Arabian caliph, who caught a dolphin in this 
 sea, admiring the beauty of which, he let it 
 go again, having previously marked it by a 
 ring of iron. Some time after a dolphin was 
 caught in the Red Sea, and quickly known 
 by the ring to be the same that had been ta- 
 ken in the Mediterranean before. Such, how- 
 ever, as have not been willing to found their 
 opinions upon a story, have attempted to ac- 
 count for the disposal of the waters of the 
 Mediterranean by evaporation. For this 
 purpose they have entered into long calcula- 
 tions upon the extent of its surface, and the 
 quantity of water that would be raised from 
 such a surface in a year. They then com- 
 pute how much water runs in by its rivers 
 and straits in that time ; and find, that the 
 quantity exhausted by evaporation greatly ex- 
 ceeds the quantity supplied by rivers and seas. 
 This solution, no doubt, would be satisfactory, 
 did not the Ocean, and the Euxine, evapo- 
 rate as well as the Mediterranean : and as 
 these are subject to the same drain, it must 
 follow, that all the seas will in this respect 
 be upon a par; and, therefore, there must 
 be some other cause for this unperceived 
 drain, and continual supply. This seems to 
 be satisfactorily enough accounted for by 
 Dr. Smith, who supposes an under current 
 running through the straits of Gibraltar to 
 carry out as much water into the Ocean, as 
 the upper current continually carries in from 
 it. To confirm this, he observes, that nearer 
 home, between the north and south Ireland, 
 the tide is known to run one way at top, and 
 the ebb another way at bottom. This dou- 
 ble current he also confirms by an expen- 
 
 . - - -.-_!--_ iPl ... 
 
 Kircher Mund. Subt. vol. i. 
 
78 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 ment communicated to him by an able sea- 
 man, who being with one of the king's fri- 
 gates in the Baltic, found he went with his 
 boat into the mid-stream, and was carried 
 violently by the current ; upon which a bas- 
 ket was sunk, with a large cannon ball, to a 
 certain depth of water, which gave a check 
 to the boat's motion ; as the basket sunk still 
 lower, the boat was driven by the force of 
 the water below against the upper current ; 
 and the lower the basket was let down, the 
 stronger the under current was fotfrid, and the 
 quicker was the boat's motion against the 
 upper stream, which seemed not to be above 
 four fathom deep. Hence we may readily 
 infer, that the same cause may operate at the 
 straits of Gibraltar ; and that while the Me- 
 diterranean seems replenishing at top, it may 
 be emptying at bottom. 
 
 The number of the currents at sea are im- 
 possible to be recounted, nor, indeed, are 
 they always known ; new ones are daily pro- 
 duced by a variety of causes, and as quickly 
 disappear. When a regular current is oppo- 
 sed by another in a narrow strait, or where 
 the bottom of the sea is very uneven, a 
 whirlpool is often formed. These were for- 
 merly considered as the most formidable ob- 
 structions to navigation, and the ancient po- 
 ets and historians speak of them vvitli terror; 
 they are described as swallowing up ships, 
 and dashing them against the rocks at the 
 bottom : apprehension did no fail to add 
 imaginary terrors to the description, ancl pla- 
 ced at the centre of the whirlpool a dreadful 
 den, fraught with monsters, whose howlings 
 served to add new horrors to the dashings of 
 the deep. Mankind at present, however, 
 view these eddies of the sea with very little 
 apprehension ; and some have wondered 
 how the ancients could have so much over- 
 charged their descriptions. But all this is 
 very naturally accounted for. In those times 
 when navigation was in its infancy, and the 
 slightest concussion of the waves generally 
 sent the poor adventurer to the bottom, it is 
 not to be wondered at that he was terrified 
 at the violent agitations in one of these. 
 When his little ship, but ill fitted for oppos- 
 ing the fury of the sea, was got within the 
 vortex, there was then no possibility of ever 
 returning. To add to the fatality, they were 
 
 always near the shore ; and along the shore 
 was the only place where this ill-provided 
 mariner durst venture to sail. These were 
 therefore dreadful impediments to his navi- 
 gation ; for if he attempted to pass between 
 I hem and the shore, he was sometimes suck- 
 ed in by the eddy; and if he attempted to 
 avoid them out at sea, he was often sunk by 
 the storm. But in our time, and in our pre- 
 sent improved state of navigation, Charybdis, 
 and the Euripus, with all the other irregular 
 currents of the Mediterranean, are no long- 
 er formidable. Mr. Addison, not attending 
 to this train of thinking, upon passing through 
 the straits of Sicily, was surprised at the lit- 
 tle there was of terror in the present appear- 
 ance of Scylla and Charybdis; and seems to 
 be of opinion, that their agitations are much 
 diminished since the times of antiquity. In 
 fact, from the reasons above, all the wonders 
 of the Mediterranean Sea are described in 
 much higher colours than they merit, to us 
 who are acquainted with the more magnifi- 
 cent terrors of the Ocean. The Mediterra- 
 nean is one of the smoothest and most gentle 
 seas in the world ; its tides are scarcely per- 
 ceivable, except in the gulf of Venice, and 
 shipwrecks are less known there than in any 
 other part of the world. 
 
 It is in the Ocean, therefore, that these 
 whirlpools are particularly dangerous, where 
 the tides are violent, and the tempests fierce. 
 To mention only one, that called the Maels- 
 troom, upon the coasts of Norway, which is 
 considered as the most dreadful and vora- 
 cious in the world. - The name it has receiv- 
 ed from the natives, signifies the navel of the 
 sea, since they suppose that a great share of 
 the water of the sea is sucked up and dis- 
 charged by its vortex. A minute descrip- 
 tion of the internal parts is not to be expect- 
 ed, since none who were there ever returned 
 to bring back information. The body of the 
 waters 'that form this whirlpool, are extended 
 in a circle above thirteen miles in circumfer- 
 ence." In the midst of this stands a rock, 
 against which the tide in its ebb is dashed 
 with inconceivable fury. At this time it in- 
 stantly swallows up all tilings that come with- 
 in the sphere of its violence, trees, timber, 
 
 Kircher Mund. Subt. vol. i. p. 15G. 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 79 
 
 and shipping. No skill in the mariner, nor 
 strength of rowing, can work an escape : the 
 sailor at the helm finds the ship at first go in 
 a current opposite to his intentions ; his ves- 
 sel's motion, though slow in the beginning, 
 becomes every moment more rapid ; it goes 
 round in circles still narrower and narrower, 
 till at last it is dashed against the rocks, and 
 instantly disappears ; nor is it seen again for 
 
 six hours : till the tide flowing, it is vomited 
 forth with the same violence with which it 
 was drawn in. The noise of this dreadful 
 vortex still farther contributes to increase 
 its terror, which, with the dashing of the 
 waters, and the dreadful valley, if it may 
 be so called, caused by their circulation, 
 makes one of the most tremendous objects in 
 nature. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 OF THE CHANGES PRODUCED BY THE SEA UPON THE EARTH. 
 
 FROM what has been said, as well of the 
 earth as of the sea, they both appear to be 
 in continual fluctuation. The earth, the 
 common promptuary that supplies subsist- 
 ence to men, animals, and vegetables, is con- 
 tinually furnishing its stores to their support. 
 
 But the matter which is thus derived from 
 it, is soon restored and laid down again to 
 be prepared for fresh mutations. The trans- 
 migration of souls is no doubt false and whim- 
 sical ; but nothing can be more certain than 
 the transmigration of bodies : the spoils of 
 the meanest reptile may go to the formation 
 of a prince ; and, on the contrary, as the po- 
 et has it, the body of Caesar may be employ- 
 ed in stopping a beer-barrel. From this, and 
 other causes, therefore, the earth is in con- 
 tinual change. Its internal fires, the devia- 
 tion of its rivers, and the falling of its moun- 
 tains, are daily altering its surface ; and geo- 
 graphy can scarcely recollect the lakes and 
 the valleys that history once described. 
 
 But these changes are nothing to the in- 
 stability of the ocean. It would seem that 
 inquietude was as natural to it as its fluidity. 
 It is first seen with a constant and equable 
 motion going towards the west; the tides 
 then interrupt this progression, and for a 
 time drive the waters in a contrary direction ; 
 beside these agitations, the currents act their 
 part in a smaller sphere, being generally 
 greatest where the other motions of the sea 
 are least ; namely, nearest the shore : the 
 winds also contribute their share in this uni- 
 
 versal fluctuation : so that scarcely any part 
 of the sea is wholly seen to stagnate. 
 
 Nil enim quiescii, widis impellitur undo, 
 Et spiritua et calor toto se corpore miscent. 
 
 As this great element is thus changed, and 
 continually labouring internally, it may be 
 readily supposed that it produces correspond- 
 ent changes upon its shores, and those parts 
 of the earth subject to its influence. In fact, 
 it is every day making considerable altera- 
 tions, either by overflowing its shores in one 
 place, or deserting them in others : by cover- 
 ing over whole tracts of country, that were 
 cultivated and peopled, at one time ; or by 
 leaving its bed to be appropriated to the 
 purposes of vegetation, and to supply a new 
 theatre for human industry at another. 
 
 In this struggle between the earth and the 
 sea for dominion, the greatest number of our 
 shores seem to defy the whole rage of the 
 waves, both by their height, and the rocky 
 materials of which they are composed. The 
 coasts of Italy, for instance, a are bordered 
 with rocks of marble of different kinds, the 
 quarries of which may easily be distinguished 
 at a distance from sea, and appear like per- 
 pendicular columnsof the most beautiful kinds 
 of marble, ranged along the shore. In gene- 
 ral, the coasts of France, from Brest to 
 Bordeaux, are composed of rocks; as are 
 also those of Spain and England, which de- 
 
 Buffon, vol. ii. p. 199- 
 
80 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 fend the land, and only are interrupted here 
 and there to give an egress to rivers, and to 
 grant the conveniences of bays and harbours 
 to our shipping. It may be in general re- 
 marked, that wherever the sea is most vio- 
 lent and furious, there the boldest shores, 
 and of the most compact materials, are found 
 to oppose it. There are many shores several 
 hundred feet perpendicular, against which 
 the sea, when swollen with tides, or storms, 
 rises and beats with inconceivable fury. In 
 "the Orkneys, where the shores are thus form- 
 ed, it sometimes, when agitated by a storm, 
 rises two hundred feet perpendicular, and 
 dashes up its spray, together with sand, and 
 other substances that compose its bottom, 
 upon land, like showers of rain. 
 
 Hence, therefore, we may conceive how 
 the violence of the sea, and the boldness of 
 the shore, may be said to have made each 
 other. Where the sea meets no obstacles, 
 it spreads its waters with a gentle intume- 
 scence, till all its power is destroyed, by 
 wanting depth to aid the motion. But when 
 its progress is checked in the midst, by the 
 prominence of rocks, or the abrupt elevation 
 of the land, it dashes with all the force of its 
 depth against the obstacle, and forms, by its 
 repeated violence, that abruptness of the 
 shore which confines its impetuosity. Where 
 the sea is extremely deep, or very much vex- 
 ed by tempests, it is no small obstacle that 
 can confine its rage ; and for this reason we 
 see the boldest shores projected against the 
 deepest waters; all less impediments having 
 long before been surmounted and washed 
 away. Perhaps of all the shores in the world, 
 there is not one so high as that on the west 
 of St. Kilda, which, upon a late admeasure- 
 ment, 1 ' was found to be six hundred fathom 
 perpendicular above the surface of the sea. 
 Here, also, the sea is deep, turbulent, and 
 stormy ; so that it requires great force in the 
 shore to oppose its violence. In many parts 
 of the world, and particularly upon the coasts 
 of the East Indies, the shores, though not 
 high above water, are generally very deep, 
 and consequently the waves roll against the 
 land with great weight and irregularity. 
 This rising of the waves against the shore, is 
 
 * BufTon, vol. ii. p. 191. b Description of St. Kilda. 
 
 called by mariners the surf of the sea; 
 and in shipwrecks is generally fatal to such 
 as attempt to swim on shore. In this case, 
 no dexterity in the swimmer, no float he can 
 use, neither swimming girdle nor cork jacket 
 will save him; the weight of the superincum- 
 bent waves breaks upon him at once, and 
 crushes him with certain ruin. Some few of 
 the natives, however, have the art of swim- 
 ming and of navigating their little boats near 
 those shores, where an European is sure of 
 instant destruction. 
 
 In places where the force of the sea is less 
 violent, or its tides less rapid, the shores are 
 generally seen to descend with a more gra- 
 dual declivity. Over these, the waters of the 
 tide steal by almost imperceptible degrees, 
 covering them for a large extent, and leav- 
 ing them bare on its recess. Upon these 
 shores, as was said, the sea seldom beats 
 with any great violence, as a large wave has 
 not depth sufficient to float it onwards; so 
 that here only are to be seen gentle surges 
 making calmly towards land, and lessening 
 as they approach. As the sea, in the former 
 description, is generally seen to present pros- 
 pects of tumult and uproar, here it more usu- 
 ally exhibits a scene of repose and tranquil 
 beauty. Its waters, which when surveyed 
 from the precipice, afforded a muddy greenish 
 hue, arising from their depth and position to 
 the eye, when regarded from a shelving 
 shore, wear the colour of the sky, and seem 
 rising to meet it. The deafening noise of the 
 deep sea is here converted into gentle mur- 
 murs ; instead of the water's dashing against 
 the face of the rock, it advances and recedes, 
 still going forward, but with just force enough 
 
 i to push its weeds and shells, by insensible 
 
 | approaches, to the shore. 
 
 There are other shores, beside those al- 
 ready described, which either have been 
 raised by art to oppose the sea's approaches, 
 or, from the sea's gaining ground, are threat- 
 ened with imminent destruction. The sea's 
 being thus seen to give and take away lands 
 at pleasure, is, without question, one of the 
 most extraordinary considerations in all na- 
 tural history. In some places it is seen to 
 obtain the superiority by slow and certain 
 
 Newton's Optics, p. 163 167- 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 approaches ; or to burst in at once, and over- 
 whelm all things in undistinguished destruc- 
 tion; in other places it departs from its 
 shores, and where its waters have been 
 known to rage, it leaves fields covered with 
 the most beautiful verdure. 
 
 The formation of new lands, by the sea's 
 continually bringing its sediment to one place, 
 and by the accumulation of its sands in ano- 
 ther, is easily conceived. We have had ma- 
 ny instances of this in England. The island 
 of Oxney, which is adjacent to Romney 
 marsh, was produced in this manner. This 
 had for a long time been a low level, conti- 
 nually in danger of being overflown by the ri- 
 ver Rother ; but the sea, by its depositions, 
 has gradually raised the bottom of the river, 
 while it has hollowed the mouth ; so that the 
 one is sufficiently secured from inundations, 
 and the other is deep enough to admit ships 
 of considerable burthen. The like also may 
 be seen at that bank called the Dogger-sands, 
 where two tides meet, and which thus re- 
 ceives new increase every day, so that in 
 time the place seems to promise fair for be- 
 ing habitable earth. On many parts of the 
 coasts of France, England, Holland, Germa- 
 ny, and Prussia, the sea has been sensibly 
 known to retire. 8 Hubert Thomas asserts, 
 in his Description of the country of Liege, 
 that the sea formerly encompassed the city 
 of Tongres, which, however, is at present 
 thirty-five leagues distant from it : this asser- 
 tion he supports by many strong reasons ; 
 and among others, by the iron rings fixed in 
 the walls of the town, for fastening the ships 
 that came into the port. In Italy there is a 
 considerable piece of ground gained at the 
 mouth of the river Arno; and Ravenna, that 
 once stood by the sea side, is now consider- 
 ably removed from it. But we need scarce- 
 ly mention these, when we find that the whole 
 republic of Holland seems to be a conquest 
 upon the sea, and in a manner rescued from 
 its bosom. The surface of the earth, in this 
 country, is below the level of the bed of the 
 sea : and I remember, upon approaching the 
 coast, to have looked down upon it from the 
 sea, as into a valley ; however, it is every 
 day rising higher by the depositions made 
 
 * BufTon, vol. vi. p. 424. 
 
 upon il by the sea, the Rhine, and the Meuse ; 
 and those parts which formerly admitted 
 large men of war, are now known to be too 
 shallow to receive ships of very moderate 
 burthen. b The province of Jucatan, a penin- 
 sula in the gulf of Mexico, was formerly a 
 part of the sea ; this tract, which stretches 
 out into the ocean, a hundred leagues, and 
 which is above thirty broad, is every where, 
 at a moderate depth below the surface, com- 
 posed of shells, which evince that its land 
 once formed the bed of the sea. In France, 
 the town of Aigues Mortes was a port in the 
 times of St. Louis, which is now removed 
 more than four miles from the sea. Psalmodi, 
 in the same kingdom, was an island in the 
 year 815, but is now more than six miles 
 from the shore. All along the coasts of Nor- 
 folk, I am very well assured, that in the mr- 
 mory of man, the sea has gained fifty yards 
 in some places, and has lost as much in 
 others. 
 
 Thus numerous, therefore, are the instan- 
 ces of new lands having been produced from 
 the sea, which, as we see, is brought about 
 two different ways : first, by the waters rais- 
 ing banks of sand and mud where their sedi- 
 ment is deposited : and secondly, by their 
 relinquishing the shore entirely, and leaving 
 it unoccupied to the industry of man. 
 
 But as the sea has been thus known to re- 
 cede from some lands, so has it, by fatal ex- 
 perience,been found to encroach upon others; 
 and, probably, these depredations on one 
 part of the shore, may account for their de- 
 reliction from another ; for the current which 
 rested upon some certain bank, having got 
 an egress in some other place, it no longer 
 presses upon its former bed, but pours all its 
 stream into the new entrance, so that every 
 inundation of the sea may be attended with 
 some correspondent dereliction of another 
 shore. 
 
 However this be, we have numerous his- 
 tories of the sea's inundations, and its bury- 
 ing whole provinces in its bosom. Many 
 countries that have been thus destroyed bear 
 melancholy witness to the truth of history ; 
 and show the tops of their houses, and the 
 spires of their steeples, still standing at the 
 
 b Burton, vol. vi. p. 424 
 
82 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 bottom of the water. One of the most con- 
 siderable inundations we have in history, is 
 that which happened in the reign of Henry I. 
 which overflowed the estates of the Earl 
 Godwin, and forms now that bank called the 
 Goodwin Sands. In the year 1546, a similar 
 irruption of the sea destroyed a hundred thou- 
 sand persons in the territory of Dort; and yet 
 a greater number round Dullart. In Friez- 
 land, and Zealand, there were more than 
 three hundred villages overwhelmed ; and 
 their remains continue still visible at the bot- 
 tom of the water in a clear day. The Baltic 
 Sea has, by slow degrees, covered a large 
 part of Pomerania ; and, among others, de- 
 stroyed and overwhelmed the famous port of 
 Vineta. In the same manner, the Norwegian 
 Sea has formed several little islands from the 
 main land, and still daily advances upon the 
 continent. The German Sea has advanced 
 upon the shores of Holland, nearCatt; so 
 that the ruins of an ancient citadel of the 
 Romans, which was formerly built upon this 
 coast, are now actually under water. To 
 these accidents several more might be added ; 
 our own historians, and those of other coun- 
 tries, abound with them; almost every flat 
 shore of any extent being able to show some- 
 thing that it has lost, or something that it has 
 gained from the sea. 
 
 There are some shores on which the sea 
 has made temporary depredations ; where it 
 has overflowed, and after remaining perhaps 
 some ages, it has again retired of its own 
 accord, or been driven back by the industry 
 of man." There are many lands in Norway, 
 Scotland, and the Maldivia islands, that are 
 at one time covered with water, and at ano- 
 ther free. The country round the Isle of 
 Ely, in the times of Bedc, about a thousand 
 years ago, was one of the most delightful 
 spots in the whole kingdom. It was not only 
 richly cultivated, and produced all the neces- 
 saries of life, but grapes also that afforded 
 excellent wine. The accounts of that time 
 are copious in the description of its verdure 
 and fertility ; its rich pastures, covered with 
 flowers and herbage; its beautiful shades, 
 and wholesome air. But the sea breaking in 
 upon the land, overwhelmed the whole coun- 
 
 1 Buffon, vol. ii. p. 425. 
 
 try, took possession of the soil, and totally 
 destroyed one of the most fertile valleys in 
 the world. Its air, from being dry and health- 
 ful, from that time became most unwhole- 
 some, and clogged with vapours; and the 
 small part of the country that, by being 
 higher than the rest, escaped the deluge, 
 was soon rendered uninhabitable, from its 
 noxious vapours. Thus this country con- 
 tinued under water for some centuries; till, 
 at last, the sea, by the same caprice which 
 had prompted its invasions, began to aban- 
 don the earth in like manner. It has con- 
 tinued for some ages to relinquish its former 
 conquests; and although the inhabitants can 
 neither boast the longevity, nor the luxuries 
 of their former preoccupants, yet they find 
 ample means of subsistence ; and if they hap- 
 pen to survive the first years of their resi- 
 dence there, they are often known to arrive 
 at a good old age. 
 
 But although history be silent as vo many 
 other inundations of the like kind, where the 
 sea has overflowed the country, and after- 
 wards retired, yet we have numberless testi- 
 monies of another nature, that prove it be- 
 yond the possibility of a doubt : I mean those 
 numerous trees that are found buried at 
 considerable depths in places where either 
 rivers or the sea has accidentally overflown. 1 ' 
 At the mouth of the river Ness, near Bruges, 
 in Flanders, at the depth of fifty feet, are 
 found great quantities of trees lying as close 
 to each other as they do in a wood : the 
 trunks, the branches, and the leaves, are in 
 such perfect preservation, that the particular 
 kind of each tree may instantly be known. 
 About five hundred years ago, this very 
 ground was known to have been covered by 
 the sea; nor is there any history or tradition 
 of its having been dry ground, which we can 
 have no doubt must have been the case. 
 Thus we see a country flourishing in verdure, 
 producing large forests, and trees of various 
 kinds, overwhelmed by the sea. We see this 
 element depositing its sediment to a height 
 of fifty feet; and its waters must, therefore, 
 have risen much higher. We see the same, 
 after it hathus overwhelmed and sunk the 
 land so deep beneath its slime, capriciously 
 
 b Buffon, vol. ii. p. 403. 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 retiring from the same coasts, and leaving 
 that habitable once more, which it had for- 
 merly destroyed. All this is wonderful; and, 
 perhups, instead of attempting to inquire after 
 the cause, which has hitherto been inscru- 
 table, it will best become us to rest satisfied 
 with admiration. 
 
 At the city of Modena in Italy, and about 
 four miles round it, wherever it is dug, when 
 the workmen arrive at the depth of sixty-three 
 feet, they come to a bed of chalk, which they 
 bore with an augre five feet deep : they then 
 withdraw from the pit, before the augre is 
 removed, and upon its extraction, the water 
 bursts up through the aperture with great 
 violence, and quickly fills this new-made well, 
 which continues full, and is affected neither 
 by rains nor droughts. But that which is 
 most remarkable in this operation, is the 
 layers of earth as we descend. At the depth 
 of fourteen feet, are found the ruins of an 
 ancient city, paved streetf, houses, floors, and 
 different pieces of Mosaic. Under this is 
 found a solid earth, that would induce one to 
 think had never been removed ; however, 
 under it is found a soft oozy earth, made up 
 of vegetables ; and at twenty-six feet depth, 
 large trees entire, such as walnut-trees, with 
 the walnuts still sticking on the stem, and 
 their leaves and branches in exact preserva- 
 tion. At twenty-eight feet deep, a soft chalk 
 is found, mixed with a vast quantity of shells; 
 and this bed is eleven feet thick. Under this, 
 vegetables are found again, with leaves and 
 branches of trees as before ; and thus alter- 
 nately chalk and vegetable earth to the depth 
 of sixty-three feet. These are the layers 
 wherever theworkmen attempt to bore; while 
 in many of them, they also find pieces of 
 charcoal, bones, and bits of iron. From this 
 description, therefore, it appears, that this 
 country has been alternately overflowed and 
 deserted by the sea, one age after another : 
 nor were these overflowings and retirings of 
 trifling depth, or of short continuance. When 
 the sea burst in, it must have been a long 
 time in overwhelming the branches of the 
 fallen forest with its sediments ; and still 
 longer in forming a regular bed of shells ele- 
 ven feet over them. It must have, therefore, 
 taken an age, at least, to make any one of 
 these layers; and we may conclude, that it 
 
 must have been many ages employed in the 
 production of them all. The land, also, upon 
 being deserted, must have had time to grow 
 compact, to gather fresh fertility, arid to bo 
 drained of its waters before it could be dis- 
 posed to vegetation ; or before its trees could 
 have shot forth again to maturity. 
 
 We have instances nearer home of thr 
 same kind, given us in the Philosophical 
 Transactions ; one of them by Mr. Derham. 
 An inundation of the sea at Dagenham, in 
 Essex, laying bare a part of the adjacent 
 pasture, for above two hundred feet wide, 
 and, in some places, twenty deep, it discover- 
 ed a number of trees that had lain there for 
 many ages before; these trees, by laying 
 long under ground, were become black and 
 hard, and their fibres so tough, that one might 
 as easily break a wire, as any of them : they 
 lay so thick in the place where they were 
 found, that in many parts he could step from 
 one to another : he conceived, also, that not 
 only all the adjacent marshes, for several 
 hundred acres, were covered underneath 
 with such timber, but also the marshes along 
 the mouth of the Thames, for several miles, 
 The meeting with these trees, at such depths, 
 he ascribes to the sediment of the river, and 
 the tides, which constantly washing over 
 them, have always left some part of their sub- 
 stance behind, so as, by repeated alluvions, 
 to work a bed of vegetable earth over them, 
 to the height at which he found it. 
 
 The levels of Hatfield-Chace, in Yorkshire, 
 a tract of above eighteen thousand acres, 
 which was yearly overflown, was reduced to 
 arable and pasture land, by one Sir Cornelius 
 Vermusden, a Dutchman. At the bottom of 
 this wide extent, are found millions of the 
 roots and bodies of trees, of such as this isltyid 
 either formerly did, or does at present pro- 
 duce. The roots of all stand in their proper 
 postures ; and by them, as thick as ever they 
 could grow, the respective trunks of each, 
 some above thirty' yards long. The oaks, 
 some of which have been sold for fifteen 
 pounds apiece, are as black as ebony, very 
 lasting, and close grained. The ash-trees 
 are as soft as earth, and are commonly cut 
 in pieces by the workmen's spades, and as 
 soon as flung up into the open air, turn to 
 dust. But all the rest, even the willows 
 
A HISTORY OF 
 
 themselves, which are softer than the ash, 
 preserve their substance and texture to this 
 very day. Some of the firs appear to have 
 vegetated, even after they were fallen, and 
 to have, from their branches, struck up large 
 trees, as great as the parent trunk. It is ob- 
 servable, that many of these trees have been 
 burnt, some quite through, some on one side, 
 Borne have been found chopped and squared, 
 others riven with great wooden wedges, all 
 sufficiently manifesting, that the country which 
 was deluged, had formerly been inhabited. 
 Near a great root of one tree were found 
 eight coins of the Roman emperors; and in 
 some places, the marks of the ridge and fur- 
 row were plainly perceivable, which testified 
 that the ground had formerly been patient 
 of cultivation. 
 
 The learned naturalist who has given this 
 description," has pretty plainly evinced, that 
 this forest, in particular, must have been thus 
 levelled by the Romans ; and that the falling 
 of the trees must have contributed to the ac- 
 cumulation of the waters. " The Romans," 
 says he, " when the Britons fled, always pur- 
 sued them into the fortresses of low woods, 
 and miry forests : in these the wild natives 
 found shelter; and, when opportunity offered, 
 issued out, and fell upon their invaders with- 
 out mercy. In this manner, the Romans were 
 at length so harassed, that orders were issued 
 out for cutting down all the woods and forests 
 in Britain. In order to effect this, and destroy 
 the enemy the easier, they set fire to the 
 woods composed of pines, and other inflam- 
 mable timber, which spreading, the conflagra- 
 tion destroyed not only the forest, but infinite 
 numbers of the wretched inhabitants who had 
 taken shelter therein. When the pine-trees 
 had thus done what mischief they could, the 
 Romans then brought their army nearer, and, 
 with whole legions of the captive Britons, cut 
 down most of the trees that were yet left 
 standing ; leaving only here and there some 
 great trees untouched, as monuments of their 
 fury. These, unneedful of their labour, being 
 destitute of the support of the underwood, 
 and of their neighbouring trees, were easily 
 overthrown by the winds, and, without inter- 
 ruption, remained on the places where they 
 
 Phil. Trans, vol. iv. part ii. p. 214. 
 
 happened to fall. The forest thus fallen, must 
 necessarily have stopped up the currents, 
 both from land and sea; and turned into 
 great lakes, what were before but temporary 
 streams. The working of the waters here, 
 the consumption and decay of rotten boughs 
 and branches, and the vast increase of water- 
 moss which flourishes upon mars-hy grounds, 
 soon formed a covering over the trunks of the 
 fallen trees, and raised the earth several feet 
 above its former level. The earth thus every 
 day swelling, by a continual increase from 
 the sediment of the waters, and by the light- 
 ness of the vegetable substances of which it 
 was composed, soon overtopt the waters by 
 which this intumescence was at first effected ; 
 so that it entirely got rid of its inundations, 
 or only demanded a slight assistance from 
 man for that purpose." This may be the 
 origin of all bogs, which are formed by the 
 putrefaction of vegetable substances, mixed 
 with the mud and slime deposited by waters, 
 and at length acquiring a sufficient con- 
 sistency. 
 
 From this we see what powerful effects the 
 sea is capable of producing upon its shores, 
 either by overflowing some or deserting 
 others; by altering the direction of these, 
 and rendering those craggy and precipitate, 
 which before were shelving. But the influence 
 it has upon these is nothing to that which it 
 has upon that great body of earth which forms 
 its bottom. lit is at the bottom of the sea 
 that the greatest wonders are performed, and 
 the most rapid changes are produced ; it is 
 there that the motion of the tides and the 
 currents have their whole force, and agitate 
 the substances of which their bed is com- 
 posed. But all these are almost wholly hid 
 from human curiosity : the miracles of the 
 deep are performed in secret; and we have 
 but little information from its abysses, except 
 what we receive by inspection at very shal- 
 low depths, or by the plummet, or from divers, 
 who are known to descend from twenty to 
 thirty fathom. 11 
 
 The eye can reach but a very short way 
 into the depths of the sea; and that only 
 when its surface is glassy and serene. In 
 many seas it perceives nothing but a bright 
 
 11 fhil. Trans, vol. iv. part ii. p. lP r ., 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 85 
 
 sandy plain at bottom, extending for several 
 hundred miles, without an intervening object. 
 But in others, particularly in the Red Sea, 
 it is very different : the whole bottom of this 
 extensive hed of waters is, literally speaking, 
 a forest of sub-marine plants, and corals form- 
 ed by insects for their habitation, sometimes 
 branching out to a great extent. Here are 
 seen the madrepores, the sponges, mosses, sea- 
 mushrooms, and other marine productions, 
 covering every part of the bottom ; so that 
 some have even supposed the sea to have 
 taken its name from the colour of its plants 
 below. However, these plants are by no 
 means peculiar to this sea, as they are found 
 in great quantities in the Persian gulf, along 
 the coast of Africa, and those of Provence 
 and Catalonia. 
 
 The bottom of many parts of the sea near 
 America presents a very different, though a 
 very beautiful appearance. This is covered 
 with vegetables, which make it look as green 
 as a meadow, and beneath are seen thousands 
 of turtles, and other sea-animals, feeding 
 thereon. 
 
 In order to extend our knowledge of the 
 sea to greater depths, recourse has been had 
 to the plummet ; which is generally made of 
 a lump of lead of about forty pounds weight, 
 fastened to a cord." This, however, only an- 
 swers in moderate depths; for when a deep 
 sea is to be sounded, the matter of which the 
 cord is composed, being lighter than the 
 water, floats upon it, and when let down to a 
 considerable depth, its length so increases 
 its surface, that it is often sufficient to prevent 
 the lead from sinking; so that this may be 
 the reason why some parts of the sea are said 
 to have no bottom. 
 
 In general, we learn from the plummet, that 
 the bottom of the sea is tolerably even where 
 it has been examined ; and that the farther 
 from the shore, the sea is in general the 
 deeper. Notwithstanding, in the midst of 
 a great and unfathomable ocean, we often 
 find an island raising its head, and singly 
 braving its fury. Such islands may be con- 
 sidered as the mountains of the deep ; and, 
 could we for a moment imagine the waters 
 of the ocean removed, or dried away, we 
 
 Boyle, vol. ii. p 5. 
 
 should probably find the inequalities of its 
 bed resembling those that are found at land. 
 Here extensive plains ; there valleys ; and, in 
 many places, mountains of amazing height. 
 M. Buache has actually given us a map of that 
 part of its bottom, which lies between Africa 
 and America, taken from the several sound- 
 ings of mariners : in it we find the same un- 
 even surface that we do upon land, the same 
 eminences,and the same depressions. In such 
 an imaginary prospect, however, there would 
 be this difference, that as the tops of land- 
 mountains appear the most barren and rocky, 
 the tops of sea-mountains would be found the 
 most verdant and fruitful. 
 
 The plummet, which thus gives us some idea 
 of the inequalities of the bottom,leaves us total- 
 ly in the dark as to every other particular; 
 recourse, therefore, has been had to divers : 
 these, either being bred up in this dangerous 
 way of life, and accustomed to remain some 
 time under water without breathing, or assist- 
 ed by means of a diving-bell, have been able 
 to return some confused and uncertain ac- 
 counts of the places below. In the great diving- 
 bell improved by Dr. Halley, which was large 
 enough to contain five men, and was sup- 
 plied with fresh air by buckets, that alternate- 
 ly rose and fell, they descended fifty fathom. 
 In this huge machine, which was let down- 
 from the mast of the ship, the doctor himself 
 went down to the bottom, where, when the 
 sea was clear, and especially when the sun 
 shone, he could see perfectly well to write or 
 read, and much more to take up any thing 
 that was underneath : at other times, when 
 the water was troubled and thick, it was as 
 dark as night below, so that he was obliged 
 to keep a candle lighted at the bottom. But 
 there is one thing very remarkable ; that the 
 water, which from above was usually seen of 
 a green colour, when looked at from below, 
 appeared to him of a very different one, cast- 
 ing a redness upon one of his hands, like that 
 of damask roses b a proof of the sea's taking 
 its colour not from any thing floating in it, but 
 from the different reflexion* of the rays of 
 light. Upon the whole, the accounts we have 
 received from the bottom, by this contrivance, 
 are but few. We learn from it, and from 
 
 b Newton's Optics, p. 56. 
 
 X* 
 
86 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 divers in general, that while the surface of 
 the sea may be deformed by tempests, it is 
 usually calm and temperate below ;" that some 
 divers who have gone down when the wea- 
 ther was calm, and came up when it was tem- 
 pestuous, were surprised at their not per- 
 ceiving the change at the bottom. This, how- 
 ever, must not be supposed to obtain with 
 regard to the tides and the currents, as they 
 are seen constantly shifting their bottom ; 
 taking their bed with great violence from one 
 place, and depositing it upon another. We 
 are informed, also, by divers, that the sea 
 grows colder in proportion as they descend 
 to the bottom ; that as far as the sun's rays 
 pierce, it is influenced by their warmth ; but 
 lower, the cold becomes almost intolerable. 
 A person of quality, who had been himself a 
 diver, as Mr. Boyle informs us, declared, that 
 though he seldom descended above three or 
 four fathoms, yet he found it so much colder 
 than near the top, that he could not well en- 
 dure it; and that being let down in a great 
 diving-bell, although the water could not im- 
 mediately touch him, he found the air ex- 
 tremely cold upon his first arrival at the 
 bottom. 
 
 From divers also we learn, that the sea, in 
 many places, is filled with rocks at bottom ; 
 and that, among their clefts, and upon their 
 sides, various substances sprout forward, 
 which are either really vegetable, or the nests 
 of insects, increased to some magnitude. Some 
 of these assume the shape of beautiful flowers; 
 and though soft, when taken up, soon harden, 
 and are kept in the cabinets of the curious. 
 
 But of all those divers who have brought 
 us information from the bottom of the deep, 
 the famous Nicola Pesce, whose performances 
 are told us by Kircher, is the most celebrated. 
 I will not so much as pretend to vouch for the 
 veracity of Kircher's account, which he as- 
 sures us he had from the archives of the 
 kings of Sicily ; but it may serve to enliven a 
 heavy chapter. " In the times of Frederic, 
 king of Sicily, there lived a celebrated diver, 
 whoso name was Nicolas, and who, from his 
 amazing skill in swimming, and his persever- 
 ance under water, was surnamed the Fish. 
 This man had, from his infancy, been used to 
 
 Boyle, vol. iii. p. 242. 
 
 the sea ; and earned his scanty subsistence by 
 diving for corals and oysters ; which he sold 
 to the villagers on shore. His long acquaint- 
 ance with the sea, at last, brought it to be 
 almost his natural element. He frequently 
 was known to spend five days in the midst 
 of the waves, without any other provisions 
 than the fish which he caught there, and ate 
 raw. He often swain over from Sicily to Ca- 
 labria, a tempestuous and dangerous passage, 
 carrying letters from the king. He was fre- 
 quently known to swim among the gulfs of 
 the Lipari islands, no way apprehensive of 
 danger. 
 
 " Some mariners out at sea, one day ob- 
 served something at some distance from them, 
 which they regarded as a sea-monster; but, 
 upon its approach, it was known to be Ni- 
 colas, whom they took into their ship. When 
 they asked him whither he was going in so 
 stormy and rough a sea, and at such a dis- 
 tance from land, he showed them a packet 
 of letters, which he was carrying to one of the 
 towns of Italy, exactly done up in a leather 
 bag, in such a manner as that they could not 
 be wetted by the sea. He kept them thus 
 company for some time on their voyage, con- 
 versing and asking questions; and after eat- 
 ing a hearty meal with thein^ he took his 
 leave, and jumping into the sea, pursued his 
 voyage alone. 
 
 " In order to aid these powers of enduring 
 in the deep, nature seemed to have assisted 
 him in a very extraordinary manner ; for the 
 spaces between his fingers and toes were 
 webbed, as in a. goose; and his chest became 
 so very capacious, that he could take in, at 
 one inspiration, as much breath as would 
 serve him for a whole day. 
 
 " The account of so extraordinary a per- 
 son did not fail to reach the king himself; 
 who, actuated by the general curiosity, or- 
 dered that Nicolas should be brought be- 
 fore him. It was no easy matter to find Ni- 
 colas, who generally spent his time in the 
 solitudes of the deep; but at last, however, 
 after much searching, he was found, and 
 brought before his majesty. The curiosity 
 of this monarch had been -long excited by 
 the accounts he had heard of the bottom of 
 the gulf of Ch-uybdis; he therefore con- 
 ceived that it would be a proper opportunity 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 87 
 
 to have more certain information; and com- 
 manded our poor diver to examine the bot- 
 tom of this dreadful whirlpool : as an incite- 
 ment to his obedience, he ordered a golden 
 cup to be flung into it. Nicolas was not in- 
 sensible of the danger to which he was ex- 
 posed ; dangers best known only to himself; 
 and he therefore presumed to remonstrate : 
 but the hopes of the reward, the desire of 
 pleasing the king, and the pleasure of show- 
 ing his skill, at last prevailed. He instantly 
 jumped into the gulf, and was swallowed as 
 instantly up in its bosom. He continued 
 for three quarters of an hour below ; during 
 which time the king and his attendants re- 
 mained upon shore anxious for his fate ; but 
 he at last appeared, buffeting upon the sur- 
 face, holding the cup in triumph in one hand, 
 and making his way good among the waves 
 with the other. It may be supposed he was 
 received with applause, upon his arrival on 
 shore ; the cup was made the reward of his 
 adventure ; the king ordered him to be taken 
 proper care of; and, as he was somewhat 
 fatigued and debilitated by his labour, after 
 a hearty meal he was put to bed, and permit- 
 ted to refresh himself by sleeping. 
 
 " When his spirits were thus restored, he 
 was again brought to satisfy the king's curi- 
 osity with a narrative of the wonders he had 
 seen; and his account was to the following 
 effect : He would never, he said, have obey- 
 
 ed the king's commands, had he been ap- 
 prized of half the dangers that were before 
 him. There were four things, he said, that 
 rendered the gulf dreadful, not only to men, 
 but even to the fishes themselves : first, the 
 force of the water bursting up from the bot- 
 tom, which requires great strength to resist ; 
 secondly, the abruptness of the rocks, that on 
 everyside threatened destruction; thirdly, the 
 force of the whirlpool, dashing against those 
 rocks ; and fourthly, the number and magni- 
 tude of the polypous fish, some of which ap- 
 peared as large as a man, and which, every 
 where sticking against the rocks, projected 
 their fibrous arms to entangle him. Being 
 asked how he was able so readily to find the 
 cup that had been thrown in, he replied, that 
 it happened to be flung by the waves into the 
 cavity of a rock, against which he liimself 
 was urged in his descent. This account, 
 however, did not satisfy the king's curiosity : 
 being requested to venture once more inte 
 the gulf for further discoveries, he at first re- 
 fused ; but the king, desirous of having the 
 most exact information possible of all things 
 to be found in the gulf, repeated his solicita- 
 tions; and, to give them still greater weight, 
 produced a larger cup than the former, and 
 added also a purse of gold. Upon these 
 considerations, the unfortunate Pessacola 
 once again plunged into the whirlpool, and 
 was never heard of more." 
 
 CHAPTER XVHI. 
 
 A SUMMARY ACCOUNT OF THE MECHANICAL PROPERTIES OF AIR, 
 
 HAVING described the earth and the sea, 
 we now ascend into that fluid which surrounds 
 them both ; and which, in some measure, sup- 
 ports and supplies all animated nature. As, 
 upon viewing the bottom of the ocean from 
 its surface, we see an infinity of animals 
 moving therein, and seeking food ; so, were 
 some su perior being to regard the earth at a pro- 
 per distance, he might consider us in the same 
 light : he might, from his superior station, be- 
 hold a number of busy little beings, immersed 
 
 in the aerial fluid, that every where surrounds 
 them, and sedulously employed in procuring 
 the means of subsistence. This fluid, though 
 too fine for the gross perception of its in- 
 habitants, might, to his nicer organs of sight, 
 be very visible; and, while he at once saw 
 into its operations, he might smile at the va- 
 rieties of human conjecture concerning it : he 
 might readily discern, perhaps, the height 
 above the surface of the earth to which this 
 fluid atmosphere reaches : he might exactly 
 
A HISTORY OF 
 
 determine the peculiar form of its parts which fl 
 gives it the spring or elasticity with which it 
 is endued : he might distinguish which of its ; 
 parts were pure incorruptible air, and which 
 only made for a little time to assume the ap- 
 pearance, so as to be quickly returned back 
 to the element from whence it came. But as 
 for us, who are immersed at the bottom of this 
 gulf, we must be contented with a more con- 
 fined knowledge; and. wanting a proper point 
 of prospect, remain satisfied with a combina- 
 tion of the effects. 
 
 One of the first things that our senses in- 
 form us of is, that although the air is too fine ' 
 for our sight, it is very obvious to our touch. 
 Although we cannot see the wind contained 
 in a bladder, we can very readily feel its re- 
 sistance ; and though the hurricane may want j 
 colour, we often fatally experience that it 
 does not want force. We have equal expe- 
 rience of the air's spring or elasticity : the [ 
 bladder, when pressed, returns again, upon 
 the pressure being taken away; a bottle, 
 when filled, often bursts, from the spring of 
 air which is included. 
 
 So far the slightest experience reaches; 
 but, by carrying experiment a little farther, 
 we learn that air also is heavy : a round glass 
 vessel being emptied of its air, and accurate- 
 ly weighed, has been found lighter than when 
 it was weighed with the air in it. Upon com- 
 puting the superior weight of the full vessel, 
 a cubic foot of air is found to weigh some- 
 thing more than an ounce. 
 
 From this experiment, therefore, we learn, 
 that the earth, and all things upon its surface, 
 are every where covered with a ponderous 
 fluid, which rising very high over our heads, 
 must be proportionably heavy. For instance, 
 as in the sea, a man at the depth of twenty 
 feet sustains a greater weight of water, than 
 a man at the depth of but ten feet ; so will a 
 man at the bottom of a valley have a greater 
 weight of air over him, than a man on the 
 top of a mountain. 
 
 From hence we may conclude, that we 
 sustain a very great weight of air; and al- 
 though, like men walking at the bottom of 
 the sea, we cannot feel the weight which 
 presses equally round us, yet the pressure is 
 not the less real. As in morals, we seldom 
 know the blessings that surround us till we 
 
 are deprived of them 5 so here we do not per- 
 ceive the weight of the ambient fluid till a 
 a part of it is taken away. If, by any means, 
 we contrive to take away the pressure of the 
 air from any one part of our bodies, we are 
 soon made sensible of the weight upon the 
 other parts. Thus, if we clap our hand upon 
 the mouth of a vessel from whence the air 
 lias been taken away, there will thus be air 
 on one side, and none on the other; upon 
 which we shall instantly find the hand vio- 
 lently sucked inwards ; which is nothing more 
 than the weight of the air upon the back of 
 the hand that forces it into the space which, 
 is empty below. 
 
 As, by this experiment, we perceive that 
 the air presses with great weight upon every 
 thing on the surface of the earth, so by other 
 experiments we learn the exact weight with 
 which it presses. First, if the air be exhaust- 
 ed out of any vessel, a drinking vessel for 
 instance," arid tliis vessel be set with the 
 mouth downwards in water, the water will 
 rise up into the empty space, and fill the in- 
 verted glass; for the external air will, in this 
 case, press up the water where there is no 
 weight to resist ; as, one part of a bed being 
 pressed, makes the other parts, that have no 
 weight upon them, rise. In this case, as was 
 said, the water being pressed without, will 
 rise in the glass; and would continue to rise 
 (if the empty glass were tall enough) thirty- 
 two feet high. In fact, there have been pipes 
 made purposely for this experiment of above 
 thirty-two feet high; in which, upon being 
 exhausted, the water has always risen to the 
 height of thirty-two feet : there it has always 
 rested, and never ascended higher. From 
 this, therefore, we learn, that the weight of 
 the air which presses up the water, is equal 
 to a pillar or column of water which is thirty- 
 two feet high; as it is just able to raise such 
 a column, and no more. In other words, the 
 surface of the earth is every where covered 
 with a weight of air, which is equivalent to 
 a covering of thirty-two feet deep of water; 
 or to a weight of twenty-nine inches and a 
 half of quicksilver, which is known to be just 
 as heavy as the former. 
 
 This may be done by burning a bit of paper in the 
 same, and then quickly turning it down upon the water. 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 89 
 
 Thus we see that the air at the surface of 
 the earth is just as heavy as thirty-two feet 
 of water, or twenty-nine inches and a half of 
 quicksilver ; and it is easily found, by com- 
 putation, that to raise water thirty-two feet 
 will require a weight of fifteen pounds upon 
 every square inch. Now, if we are fond of 
 computations, we have only to calculate how 
 many square inches are in the surface of an 
 ordinary human body, and allowing every 
 inch to sustain fifteen pounds, we may amaze 
 ourselves at the weight of air we sustain. It 
 has been computed, and found, that our or- 
 dinary load of air amounts to within a little 
 of forty thousand pounds : this is wonderful ! 
 but wondering is not the way to grow wise. 
 
 Notwithstanding this be our ordinary load, 
 and our usual supply, there are at different 
 times very great variations. The air is not, 
 like water, equally heavy at all seasons ; but 
 sometimes is lighter and sometimes more 
 heavy. It is sometimes more compressed, and 
 sometimes more elastic or springy, which 
 produces the same effects as an increase of 
 its weight. The air which at one time raises 
 water thirty-two feet in the tube, and quick- 
 silver twenty-nine inches, will not at another 
 raise the one to thirty feet, or the other to 
 twenty-six inches. This makes, therefore, 
 a very great difference in the weight we sus- 
 tain ; and we are actually known, by compu- 
 tation, to carry at one time four thousand 
 pounds of air more than at another. 
 
 The reason of this surprising difference in 
 the weight of air, is either owing to its pres- 
 sure from above, or to an increase of vapour 
 floating in it. Its increased pressure is the 
 consequence of its spring or elasticity, which 
 cold and heat sensibly affect, and are con- 
 tinually changing. 
 
 This elasticity of the air is one of its most 
 amazing properties ; and to which it should 
 seem nothing can set bounds. A body of air 
 that may be contained in a nut-shell, may 
 easily, with heat, be dilated into a sphere of 
 unknown dimensions. On the contrary, the 
 air contained in a house, may be compressed 
 into a cavity not larger than the eye of a 
 needle. In short, no bounds can be set to 
 its confinement or expansion ; at least, expe- 
 riment has hitherto found its attempts in- 
 definite. In every situation, it retains its 
 
 elasticity ; and the more closely we compress 
 it, the more strongly does it resist the pres- 
 sure. If to the increasing the elasticity on 
 one side by compression, we increase it on 
 the other side by heat, the force of both soon 
 becomes irresistible ; and a certain French 
 philosopher" supposed, that air thus confined, 
 and expanding, was sufficient for the explo- 
 sion of a world. 
 
 Many instruments have been formed to 
 measure and determine these different pro- 
 perties of the air; and which serve several 
 useful purposes. The barometer serves to 
 measure its weight; to tell us when it is hea- 
 vier, and when lighter. It is composed of a 
 glass tube or pipe, of about thirty inches in 
 length, closed up at one end : this tube is 
 then filled with quicksilver; this done, the 
 maker, clapping his finger upon the open end, 
 inverts the tube, and plunges the open end. 
 finger and all, into a bason of quicksilver, 
 and then takes his finger away : now the 
 quicksilver in the tube will, by its own 
 weight, endeavour to descend into that in the 
 bason; but the external air, pressing on the 
 surface of the quicksilver in the bason with- 
 out, and no air being in the tube at top, 
 the quicksilver will continue in the tube, be- 
 ing pressed up, as was said, by the air, on the 
 surface of the bason below. The height at 
 which it is known to stand in the tube, is 
 usually about twenty-nine inches, when the 
 air is heavy; but not above twenty-six, when 
 the air is very light. Thus, by this instru- 
 ment we can, with some exactness, determine 
 the weight of the air; and, of consequence, 
 tell before-hand the changes of the weather. 
 Before fine dry weather, the air is charged 
 with a variety of vapours, which float in it 
 unseen, and render it extremely heavy, so 
 that it presses up the quicksilver ; or, in other 
 words, the barometer rises. In moist, rainy 
 weather, the vapours are washed down, or 
 there is not heat sufficient for them to rise, 
 so that the air is then sensibly lighter, and 
 presses up the quicksilver with less force ; 
 or, in other words, the barometer is seen to 
 fall. Our constitutions seem also to corres^ 
 pond with the changes of the weather-glass ; 
 they are braced, strong, and vigorous, with 
 
 a Monsieur Amontous. 
 
Or) 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 a large body of air upon them ; they are lan- 
 guid, relaxed, and feeble, when the air is 
 light, and refuses to give our fibres their pro- 
 per tone. 
 
 But although the barometer thus measures 
 the weight of the air with exactness enough 
 for the general purposes of life, yet it is often 
 affected with a thousand irregularities, that 
 no exactness in the instrument can remedy, 
 nor no theory account for. When high winds 
 blow, the quicksilver generally is low ; it ri- 
 ses higher in cold weather than in warm ; 
 and is usually higher at morning and evening 
 than at mid-day : it generally descends low- 
 er after rain than it was before it. There 
 are also frequent changes in the air, without 
 any sensible alteration in the barometer. 
 
 As the barometer is thus used in predict- 
 ing the changes of the weather, so it is also 
 serviceable in measuring the heights of moun- 
 tains, which mathematicians cannot so readi- 
 ly do : for as, the higher we ascend from the 
 surface of the earth, the air becomes lighter, 
 so the quicksilver in the barometer will de- 
 scend in proportion. It is found to sink at the 
 rate of the tenth part of an inch for every ninety 
 feet we ascend ; so that in going up a moun- 
 tain, if I find the quicksilver fallen an inch, I 
 conclude that I am got upon an ascent of 
 near nine hundred feet high. In this there 
 has been found some variation ; into a detail 
 of which, it is not the business of a natural 
 historian to enter. 
 
 In order to determine the elasticity of air, 
 the wind-gun has been invented, which is an 
 instrument variously made ; but in all upon 
 the principle of compressing a large quanti- 
 ty of air into a tube, in which there is an ivo- 
 ry ball, and then giving the compressed elas- 
 tic air free power to act, and drive the ball 
 as directed. The ball thus driven, will 
 pierce a thick board ; and will be as fatal, at 
 small distances, as if driven with gunpowder. 
 I do not know whether ever th" force of this 
 instrument has been assisted by means of 
 heat ; certain I am, that this, which could be 
 very easily contrived by means of phospho- 
 rus, or any other hot substance applied to 
 the barrel, would give such a force as I doubt 
 whether gunpowder itself could produce. 
 
 The air-pump is an instrument contrived 
 to exhaust the air from round a vessel adapt- 
 
 ed to that purpose, called a receiver. This 
 method of exhausting, is contrived in the 
 simple instrument, by a piston, like that of a 
 syringe, going down into the vessel, and thus 
 pushing out its air ; which, by means of a 
 valve, is prevented from returning into the 
 vessel again. But this, like all other compli- 
 cated instruments, will be better understood 
 by a minute inspection, than an hour's de- 
 scription : it may suffice here to observe, that 
 by depriving animals, and other substances, 
 of all air, it shows us what the benefits and 
 effects of air are in sustaining life, or promo- 
 ting vegetation. 
 
 The digester is an instrument of still more 
 extraordinary effects than any of the former; 
 and sufficiently discovers the amazing force 
 of air, when its elasticity is augmented by 
 fire. A common tea-kettle, if the spout were 
 closed up, and the lid put firmly down, would 
 serve to become a digester, if strong enough. 
 But the instrument used for this purpose is a 
 strong metal pot, with a lid to screw close 
 on, so that, when down, no air can get in or 
 return : into this pot meat and bones are put, 
 with a small quantity of water, and then the 
 lid screwed close ; a lighted lamp is put un- 
 derneath, and, what is very extraordinary, 
 (yet equally true,) in six or eight minutes the 
 whole mass, bones and all, are dissolved into 
 a jelly; so great is the force and elasticity of 
 the air contained within, struggling to escape, 
 and breaking in pieces all the substances 
 with which it is mixed. Care, however, must 
 be taken not to heat this instrument too vio- 
 lently ; for then the inclosed air would be- 
 come irresistible, and burst the whole, with 
 perhaps a fatal explosion. 
 
 There are numberless other useful instru- 
 ments made to depend on the weight, the 
 elasticity, or the fluidity, of the air, which do 
 not come within the plan of the present 
 work; the design of which is not to give an 
 account of the inventions that have been 
 made for determining the nature and proper- 
 ties of air, but a mere narrative of its effects. 
 The description of the pump, the forcing- 
 pump, the fire-engine, the steam-engine, the 
 syphon, and many others, belong not to the 
 naturalist, but the experimental pnilosopher: 
 the one gives a history of Nature, as he finds 
 she presents herself to him ; and he draws 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 91 
 
 the obvious picture : the other pursues her 
 with close investigation, tortures her by ex- 
 periment to give up her Secrets, and mea- 
 sures her latent qualities with laborious pre- 
 cision. Much more, therefore, might be said 
 of the mechanical effects of air, and of the 
 conjectures that have been made respecting 
 the form of its parts ; how some have suppo- 
 sed them to resemble little hoops coiled up 
 a spring; others, like fleeces of wool; 
 
 in 
 
 others, that the parts are endued with a re- 
 pulsive quality, by which, when squeezed 
 together, they endeavour to fly off, and re- 
 cede from each other. We might have given 
 the disputes relative to the height to which 
 this body of air extends above us, and con- 
 
 cerning which there is no agreement. We 
 might have inquired how much of the air we 
 breathe is .elementary,, and not reducible to 
 any other substance ; and of what density it 
 would become, if it were supposed to be con- 
 tinued down to the centre of the earth. At that 
 place we might, with the help of figures, and 
 a bold imagination, have shown it twenty 
 thousand times heavier than its bulk of gold. 
 We might also prove it millions of times 
 purer than upon earth, when raised to the 
 surface of the atmosphere. But these specu- 
 lations do not belong to natural history ; and 
 they have hitherto produced no great advan- 
 tages in that branch of science to which they 
 more properly appertain. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 AN ESSAY TOWARDS A NATURAL HISTORY OF THE AIR. 
 
 A LATE eminent philosopher has consi- 
 dered our atmosphere as one large chymical 
 vessel, in which an infinite number of various 
 operations are constantly performing. In it 
 all the bodies of the earth are continually 
 sending up a part of their substance by 
 evaporation, to mix in this great alembic, and 
 to float a while in common. Here minerals, 
 from their lowest depths, ascend in noxious, 
 or in warm vapours, to make a part of the 
 general mass ; seas, rivers, and subterranean 
 springs, furnish their copious supplies ; plants 
 receive and return their share ; and animals, 
 that by living upon, consume this generalstore, 
 are found to give it back in greater quanti- 
 ties when they die." The air, therefore, that 
 we breathe, and upon which we subsist, 
 bears very little resemblance to that pure 
 elementary body which was described in the 
 last chapter; and which is rather a sub- 
 stance that may be conceived, than experi- 
 enced to exist. Air, such as we find it, is 
 one of the most compounded bodies in all 
 nature. Water may be reduced to a fluid 
 every way resembling air, by heat ; which, 
 
 a Boyle, vol. ii. p. 593. 
 wo. 9 & 10. 
 
 by cold, becomes water again. Every thing 
 we see gives off its parts to the air, and has 
 a little floating atmosphere of its own round 
 it. The rose is encompassed with a sphere 
 of its own odorous particles; while the night- 
 shade infects the air with a scent of a more 
 ungrateful nature. The perfume of musk 
 flies off in such abundance, that the quantity 
 remaining becomes sensibly lighter by the 
 loss. A thousand substances that escape all 
 our senses we know to be there ; the power- 
 ful emanations of the load-stone, the effluvia 
 of electricity, the rays of light, and the insi- 
 nuations of fire. Such are the various substan- 
 ces through which we move, and which 
 we are constantly taking in at every pore, 
 and returning again with imperceptible dis- 
 charge ! 
 
 This great solution, or mixture of all earth- 
 ly bodies, is continually operating upon it- 
 self; which, perhaps, may be the cause of 
 its unceasing motion: but it operates still 
 more visibly upon such grosser substances 
 as are exposed to its influence; for scarcely 
 any substance is found capable of resisting the 
 corrodingqualities of the air. The air, say the 
 chymists, is a chaos furnished with all kinds 
 Y 
 
92 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 of salts and menstruums ; and, therefore, it is 
 capable of dissolving all kinds of bodies. It 
 is well known, that copper and iron are 
 quickly covered, and eaten with rust; and 
 that, in the climates near the equator, no art 
 can keep them clean. In those dreary coun- 
 tries, the instruments, knives and keys, that 
 are kept in the pocket, are nevertheless 
 quickly incrusted ; and the great guns, with 
 every precaution, after some years, become 
 useless. Stones, as being less hard, may be 
 readily supposed to be more easily soluble. 
 The marble of which the noble monuments 
 of Italian antiquity are composed, although 
 in one of the finest climates in the world, 
 show the impressions which have been made 
 upon them by the air. In many places they 
 seem worm-eaten by time; and, in others, 
 they appear crumbling into dust. Gold alone 
 seems to be exempted from this general state 
 of dissolution ; it is never found to contract 
 rust, though exposed never so long : the rea- 
 son of this seems to be, that sea-salt, which 
 is the only menstruum capable of acting up- 
 on, and dissolving gold, is but very little mix- 
 ed with the air ; for salt being a very fixed 
 body, and not apt to volatilize, and rise with 
 heat, there is but a small proportion of it in 
 the atmosphere. In the elaboratories, and 
 shops, however, where salt is much used, and 
 the air is impregnated with it, gold is found 
 to rust as well as other metals. 
 
 Bodies of a softer nature are obviously de- 
 stroyed by the air.* Mr. Boyle says, that 
 silks brought to Jamaica, will, if there expo- 
 sed to the air, rot, even while they preserve 
 their colour ; but if kept therefrom, they both 
 retain their strength and gloss. The same 
 happens in Brazil, where their clothes, which 
 are black, soon turn of an iron colour; 
 though, in the shops, they preserve their 
 proper hue. b In these tropical climates also, 
 such are the putrescent qualities of the air, 
 that white sugar will sometimes be full of 
 maggots. Drugs and plaisters lose their vir- 
 tue, and become verminous. In some places 
 they are obliged to expose their sweetmeats 
 by day in the sun, otherwise the night air 
 would quickly cause them to putrefy. On 
 the contrary, in the cold arctic regions, ani- 
 
 a Button, vol. iii. p. 62. 
 
 mal substances, during their winter, are ne- 
 ver known to putrefy ; and meat may be kept 
 for months without any salt whatsoever. This 
 experiment happily succeeded with the eight 
 Englishmen that were accidentally left upon 
 the inhospitable coasts of Greenland, at a 
 place where seven Dutchmen had perished 
 but a few years before ; for killing some rein- 
 deer for their subsistence, and having no salt 
 to preserve the flesh, to their great surprise 
 they soon found it did not want any, as it re- 
 mained sweet during their eight months con- 
 tinuance upon that shore. 
 
 These powers, with which air is endued 
 over unorganized substances, are exerted in 
 a still stronger manner over plants, animals 
 of an inferior nature, and, lastly, over man 
 himself. Most of the beauty, and the luxuri- 
 ance of vegetation, is well known to be de- 
 rived from the benign influence of the air; 
 and every plant seems to have its favourite 
 climate, not less than its proper soil. The 
 lower ranks of animals, also, seem formed for 
 their respective climates, in which only they 
 can live. Man alone seems the child of every 
 climate, and capable of existing in all. How- 
 ever, this peculiar privilege does not exempt 
 him from the influences of the air; he is as 
 much subject to its malignity as the meanest 
 insect or vegetable. 
 
 With regard to plants, air is so absolutely 
 necessary for their life and preservation, that 
 they will not vegetate in an exhausted re- 
 ceiver. All plants have within them a quan- 
 tity of air, which supports and agitates their 
 juices. They are continually imbibing fresh 
 nutriment from the air, to increase this store, 
 and to supply the wants which they sustain 
 from evaporation. When, therefore, the ex- 
 ternal air is drawn from them, they are no 
 longer able to subsist. Even that quantity 
 of air which they before were possessed of, 
 escapes through their pores, into the ex- 
 hausted receiver; and as this continues to be 
 pumped away, they become languid, grow 
 flaccid, and die. However, the plant or flow- 
 er thus ceasing to vegetate, is kept, by being 
 secured from the external air, a much longer 
 time sweet than it would have continued, had 
 it been openly exposed. 
 
 b Buffon, vol. iii. p. 68, 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 93 
 
 That air which is so necessary to the life 
 of vegetables, is still more so to that of ani- 
 mals ; there are none found, how seemingly 
 torpid soever, that do not require their need- 
 ful supply. Fishes themselves will not live 
 in water from whence the air is exhausted ; 
 and it is generally supposed that they die in 
 frozen ponds, from the want of this necessary 
 to animal existence. Many have been the 
 animals that idle curiosity has tortured in the 
 prison of a receiver, merely to observe the 
 manner of their dying. We shall, from a 
 thousand instances, produce that of the viper, 
 as it is known to be one of the most vivacious 
 reptiles in the world ; and as we shall feel 
 but little compassion for its tortures. Mr. 
 Boyle took a new-caught viper, and shutting 
 it up into a small receiver, began to pump 
 away the air." " At first, upon the air's being 
 drawn away, it began to swell ; some time af- 
 ter he had done pumping, it began to gape, 
 and open its jaws ; being thus compelled to 
 open its jaws, it once more resumed its for- 
 mer lankness ; it then began to move up and 
 down within, as if to seek for air, and after a 
 while foamed a little, leaving the foam stick- 
 ing to the inside of the glass ; soon after, the 
 body and neck grew prodigiously tumid, and 
 a blister appeared upon its back; an hour 
 and a half after the receiver was exhausted, 
 the distended viper moved, and gave manifest 
 signs of life ; the jaws remained quite distend- 
 ed ; as it were from beneath the epiglottis, 
 came the black tongue, and reached beyond 
 it; but the animal seemed, by its posture, 
 not to have any life ; the mouth also was 
 grown blackish within ; and in this situation 
 it continued for twenty-three hours. But upon 
 the air's being re-admitted, the viper's mouth 
 was presently closed, and soon after opened 
 again ; and for some time those motions con- 
 tinued, which argued the remains of life." 
 Such is the fate of the most insignificant or 
 minute reptile that can be thus included. 
 Mites, fleas, and even the little eels that are 
 found swimming in vinegar, die for want of 
 air. Not only these, but the eggs of these ani- 
 mals, will not produce in vacuo, but require 
 air to bring them to perfection. 
 
 As in this manner air is necessary to their 
 
 Boyle'* Physico-Mechan. Exper. passim. 
 
 subsistence, so also it must be of a proper 
 kind, and not impregnated with foreign mix- 
 tures. That factitious air which is pumped 
 from plants or fluids, is generally, in a short 
 time, fatal to them. Mr. Boyle has given us 
 many experiments to this purpose. After 
 having shown that all vegetable, and most 
 mineral substances, properly prepared, may 
 afford air, by being placed in an exhausted 
 receiver, and this in such quantities, that 
 some have thought it a new substance, made 
 by the alteration which the mineral or plant 
 has undergone by the texture of its parts 
 being loosened in the operation having 
 shown, I say, that this air may be drawn in 
 great quantities from vegetable, animal, or 
 mineral substances, such as apples, cherries, 
 amber burnt, or hartshorn b he included a 
 frog in artificial air, produced from paste ; in 
 seven minutes space it suffered convulsions v 
 and at last lay still, and being taken out, re- 
 covered no motion at all, but was dead. A 
 bird, inclosed in artificial air, from raisins, 
 died in a quarter of a minute, and never stir- 
 red more. A snail was put into the re- 
 ceiver, with air of paste ; in four minutes it 
 ceased to move, and was dead, although it had 
 survived in vacuo for several hours : so that 
 factitious air proved a greater enemy to ani- 
 mals than even a vacuum itself. 
 
 Air also may be impregnated with fumes 
 that are instantly fatal to animals. The 
 fumes of hot iron, copper, or any other heated 
 metal, blown into the place where an animal 
 is confined, instantly destroy it. We have al- 
 ready mentioned the vapours in the grotto 
 Del Cane suffocating a dog. The ancients 
 even supposed, that these animals, as they al- 
 ways ran with their noses to the gr.ound, were 
 the first that felt any infection. In short, it 
 should seem that the predominance of any 
 one vapour, from any body, how wholesome 
 soever in itself, becomes infectious ; and that 
 we owe the salubrity of the air to the variety 
 of its mixture. 
 
 But there is no animal whose frame is 
 more sensibly affected by the changes of the 
 air than man. It is true, he can endure a 
 greater variety of climates than the lower 
 orders generally are able to do; but it is 
 
 . b Boyle's Physico-Mechan, vol. ii. p. 598. 
 Y* 
 
94 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 rather by the means which he has discovered 
 pf obviating their effects, than by the ap- 
 parent strength of his constitution. Most 
 other animals can bear cold or hunger better, 
 endure greater fatigues in proportion, and 
 are satisfied with shorter repose. The varia- 
 tions of the climate, therefore, would pro- 
 bably affect them the less, if they had the 
 same means or skill in providing against the 
 severities of the change. However this be, 
 the body of man is an instrument much more 
 nicely sensible of the variations of the air, 
 than any of those which his own art has pro- 
 duced ; for his frame alone seems to unite all 
 their properties, being invigorated by the 
 weight of the air, relaxed by its moisture, 
 enfeebled by its heat, and stiffened by its 
 frigidity. 
 
 But it is chiefly by the predominance of 
 some peculiar vapour, that the air becomes 
 unfit for human support. It is often found, 
 by dreadful experience, to enter into the 
 constitution, to mix with its juices, and to 
 putrefy the whole mass of blood. The ner- 
 vous system is not less affected by its opera- 
 tions; palsies and vertigoes are caused by 
 its damps ; and a still more fatal train of dis- 
 tempers by its exhalations. In order that 
 the air should be wholesome, it is necessary, 
 as we have seen, that it should not be of one 
 kind, but the compound of several sub- 
 stances; and the more various the compo- 
 sition, to all appearance the more salubrious. 
 A man, therefore, who continues in one place, 
 is not so likely to enjoy this wholesome va- 
 riety, as he who changes his situation ; and, 
 if I may so express it, instead of waiting for 
 a renovation of air, walks forward to meet 
 its arrival. This mere motion, independent 
 even of the benefits of exercise, becomes 
 wholesome, by thus supplying a great variety 
 of that healthful fluid by which we are sus- 
 tained. 
 
 A thousand accidents are found to increase 
 these bodies of vapour, that make one place 
 more or less wholesome than another. Heat 
 may raise them in too great quantities ; and 
 cold may stagnate them. Minerals may give 
 off tHeir effluvia in such proportion as to 
 keep away all other kind of air; vegetables 
 may render the air unwholesome by their 
 supply ; and animal putrefaction seems to 
 
 furnish a quantity of vapour, at least as 
 noxious as any of the former. All these 
 united, generally make up the mass of respi- 
 ration, and are, when mixed together, harm- 
 less ; but any one of them, for a long time 
 singly predominant, becomes at length fa- 
 tal. 
 
 The effects of heat in producing a noxious 
 quality in the air, are well known. Those 
 torrid regions under the Line are always un- 
 wholesome. At Senegal, I am told, the na- 
 tives consider forty as a very advanced time 
 of life, and generally die of old age at fifty. 
 At Carthagena," in America, where the heat 
 of the hottest day ever known in Europe is 
 continual, where, during their winter season, 
 thesedreadful heats are united with a continual 
 succession of thunder, rain, and tempests, 
 arising from their intenseness, the wan and li- 
 vid complexions of the inhabitants might make 
 strangers suspect that they were just recover- 
 ed from some dreadful distemper; the ac- 
 tions of the natives are conformable to their 
 colour; in all their motions there is some- 
 what relaxed and languid ; the heat of the 
 climate even affects their speech, which is 
 soft and slow, and their words generally 
 broken. Travellers from Europe retain their 
 strength and ruddy colour in that climate, 
 possibly for three or four months ; but after- 
 wards suffer such decays in both, that they 
 are no longer to be distinguished from the 
 inhabitants by their complexion. However, 
 this languid and spiritless existence is fre- 
 quently drawled on sometimes even to eighty. 
 Young persons are generally most affected 
 by the heat of climate, which spares the 
 more aged ; but all, upon their arrival on the 
 coasts, are subject to the same train of fatal 
 disorders. Few nations have experienced 
 the mortality of these coasts, so much as our 
 own ; in our unsuccessful attack upon Car- 
 thagena, more than three parts of our army 
 were destroyed by the climate alone ; and 
 those that returned from that fatal expedition, 
 found their former vigour irretriev;>l ty gone. 
 In our more fortunate expedition, which gave 
 us the Havannah, we had little reason to 
 boast of our success; instead of a third, not 
 a fifth part of the army were left survivors of 
 
 Ullo, vol. i. p. 42. 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 95 
 
 their victory, the climate being an enemy 
 that even heroes cannot conquer. 
 
 The distempers that thus proceed from 
 the cruel malignity of those climates are 
 many ; that, for instance, called the Chapo- 
 tonadas, carries off' a multitude of people; 
 and extremely thins the crews of European 
 ships, whom gain tempts into those inhos- 
 pitable regions. The nature of this distem- 
 per is but little known, being caused in some 
 persons by cold, in others by indigestion. 
 But its effects are far from being obscure ; 
 it is generally fatal in three or four days: 
 upon its seizing the patient, it brings on 
 what is there called the black vomit, which 
 is the sad symptom after which none are 
 ever found to recover. Some, when the 
 vomit attacks them, are seized with a de- 
 lirium, that, were they not tied down, they 
 would tear themselves to pieces, and thus 
 expire in the midst of this furious paroxysm. 
 This disorder, in milder climates, takes the 
 name of the bilious fever, and is attended 
 with milder symptoms, but very dangerous 
 in all. 
 
 There are many other disorders incident 
 to the human body, that seem the offspring 
 of heat ; but to mention no other, that very 
 lassitude which prevails in all the tropical 
 climates, may be considered as a disease. 
 The inhabitants of India," says a modern phi- 
 losopher, sustain an unceasing languor, from 
 the heats of their climate; and are torpid in 
 the midst of profusion. For this reason, the 
 great Disposer of Nature has clothed their 
 country with trees of an amazing height, 
 whose shade might defend them from the 
 beams of the sun ; and whose continual fresh- 
 ness might, in some measure, temperate their 
 fierceness. From these shades, therefore, 
 the air receives refreshing moisture, and ani- 
 mals a cooling protection. The whole race 
 ef savage animals retire, in the midst of the 
 day, to the very centre of the forests, not so 
 much to avoid their enemy man, as to find a 
 defence against the raging heats of the sea- 
 son. This advantage, which arises from 
 shades in torrid climates, may probably af- 
 ford a solution for that extraordinary circum- 
 stance related by Boyle, which he imputes to 
 
 Lirmaei Amceuitates, vol. v. p. 444. 
 
 a different cause. In the island of Ternate, 
 belonging to the Dutch, a place that had been 
 long celebrated for its beauty and healthful- 
 ness, the clove-trees grew in such plenty, 
 that they in some measure lessened their 
 own value : for this reason, the Dutch re 
 solved to cut down the forests, and thus to 
 raise the price of the commodity; but they 
 had soon reason to repent of their avarice ; 
 for such a change ensued, by cutting down 
 the trees, that the whole island, from being 
 healthy and delightful, having lost its charm- 
 ing shades, became extremely sickly, and 
 has actually continued so to this day. Boer- 
 haave considered heat so prejudicial to 
 health, that he was never seen to go near 
 a fire. 
 
 An opposite set of calamities are the con- 
 sequence, in climates where the air is con- 
 densed by cold. In such places, all that 
 train of distempers which are known to arise 
 from obstructed perspiration, are very com- 
 mon ; b eruptions, boils, scurvy, and a loath- 
 some leprosy, that covers the whole body 
 with a scurf, and white putrid ulcers. These 
 disorders also are infectious ; and, while they 
 thus banish the patient from society, they 
 generally accompany him to the grave. The 
 men of those climates seldom attain to the 
 age of fifty ; but the women, who do not lead 
 such laborious lives, are found to live longer. 
 
 The antumnal complaints which attend a 
 wet summer, indicate the dangers of a moist 
 air. The long continuance of an east wind 
 also, shows the prejudice of a dry one. 
 Mineral exhalations, when copious, are every 
 where known to be fatal ; and although we 
 probably owe the increase and luxuriance 
 of vegetation to a moderate degree of their 
 warmth, yet the natives of those countries 
 where there are mines in plenty, but too often 
 experience the noxious effects of their vici- 
 nity. Those trades also that deal in the pre- 
 parations of metals of all kinds, are always 
 unwholesome ; and the workmen, after some 
 time, are generally seen to labour under 
 palsies, and other nervous complaints. The 
 vapours from some vegetable substances, are 
 well known to be attended with dangerous 
 effects. The shade of the machinel tree, in 
 
 b Krantz's History of Greenland, vol. i. p. 235. 
 
A HISTORY OF 
 
 America, is said to be fatal ; as was that of the 
 juniper, if we may credit the ancients. Those 
 who walk through fields of poppies, or in any 
 manner prepare those flowers for making 
 opium, are very sensibly affected with the 
 drowsiness they occasion. A physician of 
 Mr. Boyle's acquaintance, causing a large 
 quantity of black hellebore to be pounded in 
 a mortar, most of the persons who were in 
 the room, and especially the person who 
 pounded it, were purged by it, and some of 
 them strongly. He also gathered a certain 
 plant in Ireland, which the person who beat 
 it in a mortar, and the physician who was 
 standing near, were eo strongly affected by, 
 that their hands and faces swelled to an enor- 
 mous size, and continued tumid for a long 
 time after. 
 
 But neither mineral nor vegetable steams 
 are so dangerous to the constitution, as those 
 proceeding from animal substances, putrefying 
 either by disease or death. The effluvia that 
 come from diseased bodies, propagate that 
 frightful catalogue of disorders which are 
 called infectious. The parts which compose 
 vegetable vapours, and mineral exhalations, 
 seem gross and heavy, in comparison of these 
 volatile vapours, that go to great distances, 
 and have been described as spreading deso- 
 lation over the whole earth. They fly every 
 where ; penetrate every where ; and the va- 
 pours that fly from a single disease, soon ren- 
 der it epidemic. 
 
 The plague is the first upon the list in this 
 class of human calamities. From whence 
 this scourge of man's presumption may have 
 its beginning, is not well known ; but we well 
 know that it is propagated by infection. What- 
 ever be the general state of the atmosphere, 
 we learn, from experience, that the noxious 
 vapours, though but singly introduced at first, 
 taint the air by degrees : every person in- 
 fected, tends to add to the growing malignity; 
 and, as the disorder becomes more general, 
 the putrescence of the air becomes more 
 noxious, so that the symptoms are aggravated 
 by continuance. When it is said that the 
 origin of this disorder is unknown, it implies, 
 that the air seems to be but little employed 
 in first producing it. There are some coun- 
 tries, even in the midst of Africa, that we 
 learn have never been infected with it ; but 
 
 continue, for centuries, unmolested. On the 
 contrary, there are others, that are generally 
 visited once a year, as in Egypt, which, never- 
 theless, seems peculiarly blessed with the 
 serenity and temperature of its climate. In 
 the former countries, which are of vast extent, 
 and many of them very populous, every thing 
 should seem to dispose the air to make the 
 plague continual among them. The great 
 heats of the climate, the unwholesomeness 
 of the food, the sloth and dirt of the inhabi- 
 tants, but, above all, the bloody battles which 
 are continually fought among them, after 
 which heaps of dead bodies are left unburied, 
 and exposed to putrefaction. All these one 
 might think would be apt to bring the plague 
 among them ; and yet, nevertheless, we are 
 assured, by Leo Africanus, that in Numidia 
 the plague is not known once in a hundred 
 years ; and that in Negroland, it is not known 
 at all. This dreadful disorder, therefore, 
 must have its rise, not from any previous dis- 
 position of the air, but from some particular 
 cause, beginning with one individual, and 
 extending the malignity, by communication, 
 till at last the air becomes actually tainted 
 by the generality of the infection. 
 
 The plague which spread itself over the 
 whole world, in the year 1346, as we are told 
 by Mezeray, was so contagious, that scarcely 
 a village, or even a house, escaped being in- 
 fected by it. Before it had reached Europe, 
 it had been for two years travelling from the 
 great kingdom of Cathay, where it began by 
 a vapour most horridly fetid ; this broke out 
 of the earth like a subterranean fire, and 
 upon the first instant of its eruption, consumed 
 and desolated above two hundred leagues of 
 that country, even to the trees and stones. 
 
 In that great plague which desolated the 
 city of London, in the year 1665, a pious and 
 learned schoolmaster of Mr. Boyle's acquain- 
 tance, who ventured to stay in the city, and 
 took upon him the humane office of visiting 
 the sick and the dying, who had been de- 
 serted by better physicians, averred, that 
 being once called to a poor woman who had 
 buried her children of the plague, he found 
 the room where she lay so little that it 
 scarcely could hold any more than the bed 
 whereon she was stretched. However, in 
 this wretched abode, beside her, in an open 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 97 
 
 coffin, her husband lay, who had some time 
 before died of the same disease ; and whom 
 she, poor creature, soon followed. But what 
 showed the peculiar malignity of the air, thus 
 suffering from animal putrefaction, was, that 
 the contagious steams had produced spots on 
 the very wall of their wretched apartment : 
 and Mr. Boyle's own study, which was con- 
 tiguous to a pest-house, was also spotted in 
 the same frightful manner. Happily for man- 
 kind, this disorder, for more than a century, 
 has not been known in our island ; and, for 
 this last age, has abated much of its violence, 
 even in those countries where it is most com- 
 mon. Diseases, like empires, have their re- 
 volutions ; and those which for a while were 
 the scourge of mankind, sink unheard of, to 
 give place to new ones, more dreadful, as 
 being less understood. 
 
 For this revolution in disorders, which has 
 employed the speculation of many, Mr. Boyle 
 accounts in the following manner: " Since," 
 says he, " there want not causes in the bowels 
 of the earth to make considerable changes 
 amongst the materials that nature has plenti- 
 fully treasured up in those magazines, md as 
 those noxious steams are abundantly supplied 
 to the surface, it may not seem improbable, 
 that in this great variety some may be found 
 capable of affecting the human frame in a 
 particular manner, and thus of producing new 
 diseases. The duration of these may be 
 greater or less, according to the lastingness 
 of those subterraneous causes that produced 
 them. On which account, it need be no won- 
 der that some diseases have but a short du- 
 ration, and vanish not long after they appear; 
 whilst others may continue longer, as having 
 under ground more settled and durable cau- 
 ses to maintain them." 
 
 From the recital of this train of mischiefs 
 produced by the air upon minerals, plants, 
 animals, and man himself, a gloomy mind may 
 be apt to dread this indulgent nurse of na- 
 ture as a cruel and an inexorable stepmother : 
 but it is far otherwise ; and, although we are 
 sometimes injured, yet almost all the com- 
 forts and blessings of life spring from its pro- 
 pitious influence. It would be needless to 
 observe, that it is absolutely necessary for 
 
 a Keil, Robinson. 
 
 the support of our lives ; for of this, every mo- 
 ment's experience assures us. But how it. 
 contributes to this support, is not so readily 
 comprehended. All allow it to be a friend, to 
 whose benefits we are constantly obliged : 
 and yet, to this hour, philosophers are divi- 
 ded as to the nature of the obligation. The 
 dispute is, whether the air is only useful by 
 its weight to force our juices into circulation ;" 
 or, whether, by containing a peculiar spirit, it 
 mixes with the blood in our vessels, and acts 
 like a spur to their industry. 1 * Perhaps it 
 may exert both these useful offices at the 
 same time. Its weight may give the blood 
 its progressive motion, through the larger 
 vessels of the body ; and its admixture with 
 it cause those contractions of all the vessels, 
 which serve to force it still more strongly for- 
 ward, through the minutest channels of the 
 circulation. Be this as it may, it is well 
 known, that that part of our blood which has 
 just received the influx of the air in our bo- 
 dies, is of a very different colour from that 
 which has almost performed its circuit. It 
 has been found, that the arterial blood, which 
 has been immediately mixed with the air in 
 the lungs, and, if I may so express it, is just 
 beginning its journey through the body, is of 
 a fine florid scarlet colour ; while, on the con- 
 trary, the blood of the veins, that is returning 
 from having performed its duty, is of a black- 
 ish crimson hue. Whence this difference of 
 colour should proceed, is not well under- 
 stood ; we only know the fact, that this florid 
 colour is communicated by the air; and we 
 are well convinced, that this air has been ad- 
 mitted into the blood for very useful purposes. 
 Besides this vital principal in animals, the 
 air also gives life and body to flame. A can- 
 dle quickly goes out in at exhausted receiver; 
 for having soon consumed the quantity of air, 
 it then expires for want of a fresh supply. 
 There has been a flame contrived that will 
 burn under water ; but none has yet been 
 found that will continue to burn without air. 
 Gunpowder, which is the most catching and 
 powerful fire we know, will not go oft in an 
 exhausted receiver ; nay, if a train of gunpow- 
 der be laid, so as that one part may be fired 
 in the open air, yet the other part in vacuo 
 
 b Whytt upon Vital and Involuntary Motions. 
 
98 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 will remain untouched, and unconsumed. 
 Wood also set on fire, immediately goes out, 
 and its flame ceases, upon removing the air ; 
 for something is then wanting to press the 
 body of the fire against that of the fuel, and 
 to prevent the too speedy diffusion of the 
 flame. We frequently see cooks, and others, 
 whose business it is to keep up strong fires, 
 take proper precautions to exclude the beams 
 of the sun from shining upon them, which 
 effectually puts them out. This they are apt 
 to ascribe to a wrong cause; namely, the 
 operation of the light ; but the real fact is, 
 that the warmth of the sun-beams lessens and 
 dissipates the body of the air that goes to feed 
 the flame ; and the fire, of consequence, lan- 
 guishes for want of a necessary supply. 
 
 The air, while it thus kindles fire into 
 flame, is notwithstanding found to moderate 
 the rays of light, to dissipate their violence, 
 and to spread an uniform lustre over every 
 object. Were the beams of the sun to dart 
 directly upon us, without passing through 
 this protecting medium, they would either 
 burn us up at once, or blind us with their 
 effulgence. But by going through the air, 
 they are reflected, refracted, and turned from 
 their direct course, a thousand different ways; 
 and thus are more evenly diffused over the 
 face of nature. 
 
 Among the other necessary benefits the 
 air is of to us, one of the principal is its con- 
 veyance of sound. Even the vibrations of a 
 bell, which have the loudest effect that we 
 know of, cease to be heard, when under the 
 receiver of an air-pump. Thus all the plea- 
 sures we receive from conversation with each 
 other, or from music, depend entirely upon 
 the air. 
 
 Odours likewise are diffused only by the 
 means of air; without this fluid to swim in, 
 they would for ever remain torpid in their 
 
 respective substances; and the rose would 
 affect us with as little sensations of pleasure, 
 as the thorn on which it grew. 
 
 Those who are willing to augment the 
 catalogue of the benefits we receive from 
 this element, assert also, that tastes them- 
 selves would be insipid, were it not that the 
 air presses their parts upon the nerves of the 
 tongue and palate, so as to produce their 
 grateful effects. Thus, continue they, upon 
 the tops of high mountains, as on the Peak 
 of Teneriffe, the most poignant bodies, as 
 pepper, ginger, salt, and spice, have no sen- 
 sible taste, for want of their particles being 
 thus sent home to the sensory. But we owe 
 the air sufficient obligations, not to be stu- 
 dious of admitting this among the number : in 
 fact, all substances have their taste, as well*' 
 on the tops of mountains, as in the bottom of 
 the valley ; and I have been one of many, who 
 have ate a very savoury dinner on the Alps. 
 
 It is sufficient, therefore, that we regard 
 the air as the parent of health and vegetation ; 
 as a kind dispenser of light and warmth ; and 
 as the conveyer of sounds and odours. This 
 is an element of which avarice will not de- 
 prive us; and which power cannot monopo- 
 lize. The treasures of the earth, the verdure 
 of the fields, and even the refreshments of the 
 stream, are too often seen going only to assist 
 the luxuries of the great ; while the less for- 
 tunate part of mankind stand humble spec- 
 tators of their encroachments. But the air 
 no limitations can bound, nor any land-marks 
 restrain. In this benign element, all mankind 
 can boast an equal possession ; and for this 
 we all have equal obligations to Heaven. 
 We consume a part of it, for our own sus- 
 tenance, while we live; and, when we die, our 
 putrefyingbodies give back the supply, which, 
 during life, we had accumulated from the ge- 
 neral mass. 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 99' 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 OF WINDS, IRREGULAR AND REGULAR. 
 
 WIND is a current of air. Experimental 
 philosophers produce an artificial wind, by 
 an instrument called an eolipile. This is 
 nothing more than a hollow copper ball, with 
 a long pipe ; a tea-kettle might be readily 
 made into one, if it were entirely closed at 
 the lid, and the spout left open ; through this 
 spout it is to be filled with water, and then 
 set upon the fire, by which means it produces 
 a violent blast, like wind, which continues 
 while there is any water remaining in the 
 instrument. In this manner water is con- 
 verted into a rushing air; which, if caught 
 as it goes out, and left to cool, is again quick- 
 ly converted into its former element. Besides 
 this, as was mentioned in the former chapter, 
 almost every substance contains some por- 
 tions of air. Vegetables, or the bodies of 
 animals left to putrefy, produce it in a very 
 copious manner. But it is not only seen thus 
 escaping from bodies, but it may be very 
 easily made to enter into them. A quantity 
 of air may be compressed into water, so as 
 to be intimately blended with it. It finds a 
 much easier admission into wine, or any fer- 
 mented liquor; and an easier still, into spirits 
 of wine. Some salts suck up the air in such 
 quantities, that they are made sensibly hea- 
 vier thereby, and often are melted by its 
 moisture. In this manner, most bodies, being 
 found either capable of receiving or affording 
 it, we are not to be surprised at those streams 
 of air that are continually fleeting round the 
 globe. Minerals, vegetables, and animals, 
 contribute to increase the current; and are 
 sending ofF their constant supplies. These, 
 as they are differently affected by cold or 
 hoat, by mixture or putrefaction, all yield 
 different quantities of air at different times ; 
 and the loudest tempests, and most rapid 
 whirlwinds, are formed from their united 
 contributions. 
 
 The sun is the principal instrument in 
 rarefying the juices of plants, so as to give 
 an escape to their imprisoned air ; it is also 
 
 equally operative in promoting the putrefac- 
 tion of animals. Mineral exhalations are 
 more frequently raised by subterranean heat. 
 The moon, the other planets, the seasons, 
 are all combined in producing these effects 
 in a smaller degree. Mountains give a direc- 
 tion to the courses of the air. Fires carry 
 a current of air along their body. Night and 
 day alternately chill and warm the earth, and 
 produce an alternate current of its vapours. 
 These, and many other causes, may be as- 
 signed for the variety and the activity of the 
 winds, their continual change, and uncertain 
 duration. 
 
 With us on land, as the wind proceeds from 
 so many causes, and meets such a variety of 
 obstacles, there can be but little hopes of 
 everbringing its motions to conform to theory; 
 or of foretelling how it may blow a minute to 
 come. The great Bacon, indeed, was of 
 opinion, that by a close and regular history 
 of the winds, continued for a number of ages 
 together, and the particulars of each observa- 
 tion reduced to general maxims, we might at 
 last come to understand the variations of this 
 capricious element; and that we could fore- 
 tell the certainty of a wind, with as much 
 ease as we now foretell the return of an 
 eclipse. Indeed, his own beginnings in this 
 arduous undertaking, seem to speak the pos- 
 sibility of its success ; but, unhappily for man- 
 kind, this investigation is the work of ages, 
 and we want a Bacon to direct the process. 
 
 To be able, therefore, with any plausibility, 
 to account for the variations of the wind upon 
 land, is not to be at present expected ; and 
 to understand any thing of their nature, we 
 must have recourse to those places where 
 they are more permanent and steady. This 
 uniformity and steadiness we are chiefly to 
 expect upon the ocean. There, where there 
 is no variety of substances to furnish the air 
 with various and inconstant supplies ; where 
 there are no mountains to direct the course 
 of its current, but where all is extensively 
 
100 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 uniform and even; in such a place, the wind 
 arising from a simple cause, must have but 
 one simple motion. In fact, we find it so. 
 There are many parts of the world where 
 the winds, that with us are so uncertain, pay 
 their stated visits. In some places they are 
 found to hlow one way by day, and another 
 by night ; in others, for one half of the year, 
 they go in a direction contrary to their former 
 course: but, what is more extraordinary still, 
 there are some places where the winds never 
 change, but for ever blow the same way. 
 This is particularly found to obtain between 
 the tropics in the Atlantic and ^Ethiopic 
 oceans ; as well as in the great Pacific sea. 
 
 Few things can appear more extraordinary 
 to a person who has never been out of our 
 variable latitudes, than this steady wind, that 
 for ever sits in the sail, sending the vessel 
 forward ; and as effectually preventing its re- 
 turn. He who has been taught to consider 
 that nothing in the world is so variable as the 
 winds, must certainly be surprised to find a 
 place where there is nothing more uniform. 
 With us their inconstancy has become a pro- 
 verb ; with the natives of those distant cli- 
 mates they may talk of a friend or a mistress 
 as fixed arid unchangeable as the winds, and 
 mean a compliment by the comparison. When 
 our ships are once arrived into the proper 
 latitudes of the great Pacific ocean, the ma- 
 riner forgets the helm, and his skill becomes 
 almost useless : neither storms nor tempests 
 are known to deform the glassy bosom of 
 that immense sheet of waters; a gentle breeze, 
 that for ever blows in the same direction, 
 rests upon the canvass, and speeds the na- 
 vigator. In the space of six weeks, ships are 
 thus known to cross an immense ocean, that 
 takes more than so many months to return. 
 Upon returning, the trade-wind, which has 
 been propitious, is then avoided : the mari- 
 ner is generally obliged to steer into the nor- 
 thern latitudes, and to take the advantage 
 of every casual wind that offers, to assist him 
 into port. This wind, which blows with such 
 constancy one way, is known to prevail riot 
 only in the Pacific ocean, but also in the 
 Atlantic, between the coasts of Guinea and 
 Brazil ; and, likewise, in the vEthiopic ocean. 
 This seems to be the great universal wind, 
 blowing from the east to the west, that pre- 
 
 vails in all the extensive oceans, where the 
 land does not frequently break the general 
 current. Were the whole surface of the 
 globe an ocean, there would probably be but 
 this one wind, for ever blowing from the east, 
 and pursuing the motions of the sun west- 
 ward. All the other winds seem subordinate 
 to this ; and m.vny of them are made from the 
 deviations of its current. To form, therefore, 
 any conception relative to the variations of 
 the wind in general, it is proper to begin with 
 that which never varies. 
 
 There have been many theories to explain 
 this invariable motion of the winds ; among 
 the rest, we cannot omit that of Dr. Lyster, 
 for its strangeness. " The sea," says he, " in 
 those latitudes, is generally covered over with 
 green weeds, for a great extent ; and the air 
 produced from the vegetable perspiration of 
 these, produces the trade-wind." The theory 
 ofCartesius was not quite so absurd. He al- 
 leged, that the earth went round faster than 
 its atmosphere at the equator ; so that its mo- 
 tion, from west to east, gave the atmosphere 
 an imaginary one from east to west ; and thus 
 an east wind was eternally seen to prevail. 
 Rejecting those arbitrary opinions, conceived 
 without force, and asserted without proof, Dr. 
 Halley has given one more plausible; which 
 seems to be the reigning system of the day. 
 
 To conceive his opinion clearly, let us for 
 a moment suppose the whole surface of the 
 earth to be an ocean, and the air encompas- 
 sing it on every side, without motion. Now 
 it is evident, that that part of the air which 
 lies directly under the beams of the sun, will 
 be rarefied ; and if the sun remained for ever 
 in the same place, there would be a great 
 vacuity in the air, if I may so express it, be- 
 neath the place where the sun stood. The 
 sun moving forward from east to west, this va- 
 cuity will follow too, and still be made under 
 it. But while it goes on to make new vacui- 
 ties, the air will rush in to fill up those the sun 
 has already made ; in other words, as it is still 
 travelling forward, the air will continually be 
 rushing in behind, and pursue its motions from 
 east to west. In this manner the air is put 
 into motion by day; and by night the parts 
 continue to impel each other, till the next re- 
 turn of the sun, that gives a new force to the 
 circulation. 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 101 
 
 In this manner is explained the constant 
 east wind that is found blowing round the 
 globe, near the equator. But it is also known, 
 that as we recede from the equator on either 
 side, we come into a trade-wind, that con- 
 tinually blows from the poles, from the north 
 on one side, or the south on the other, both 
 directing towards the equator. This also pro- 
 ceeds from a similar cause with the former; 
 for the air being more rarefied in those places 
 over which the sun more directly darts its 
 rays, the currents will come both from the 
 north and the south, to fill up the interme- 
 diate vacuity. 
 
 These two motions, namely, the general 
 one from east to west, and the more parti- 
 cular one from both the poles, will account 
 for all the phaenomena of trade-winds; which, 
 if the whole surface of the globe were sea, 
 would undoubtedly be constant, and for ever 
 continue to blow in one direction. But there 
 are a thousand circumstances to break these 
 air-currents into smaller ones ; to drive them 
 back against their general course ; to raise 
 or depress them ; to condense them into 
 storms; or to whirl them in eddies. In con- 
 sequence of this, regard must be often had 
 to the nature of the soil, the position of the 
 high mountains, the course of the rivers, and 
 even to the luxuriance of vegetation. 
 : If a country, lying directly under the sun, be 
 very flat and sandy, and if the land be low and 
 extensive, the heats occasioned by the re- 
 flection of the sun-beams, produces a very 
 great rarefaction of the air. The deserts of 
 Africa, which are conformable to this descrip- 
 tion, are scarcely ever fanned by a breath 
 of wind by day; but the burning sun is con- 
 tinually seen blazing in intolerable splendour 
 above them. For this reason, all along the 
 coasts of Guinea, the wind is always per- 
 ceived blowing in upon land, in order to fill 
 up the vacuity caused by the sun's operation. 
 In those shores, therefore, the wind blows 
 in a contrary direction to that of its general 
 current; and is constantly found setting in 
 from the west. 
 
 From the same cause it happens, that those 
 constant calms, attended with deluges of rain, 
 are found in the same part of the ocean. For 
 this tract being placed in the middle, be- 
 tween the westerly winds blowing on the 
 
 coast of Guinea, and the easterly trade-winds 
 that move at some distance from shore, in a 
 contrary direction, the tendency of that part 
 of the air that lies between these two oppo- 
 site currents, is indifferent to either, and so 
 rests between both in torpid serenity ; and 
 the weight of the incumbent atmosphere, 
 being diminished by the continual contrary 
 winds blowing from hence, it is unable to 
 keep the vapours suspended that are copi- 
 ously borne thither ; so that they fall in con- 
 tinual ruins. 
 
 But it is not to be supposed, that any 
 theory can account for all the phaenomena of 
 even those winds that are known to be most 
 regular. Instead of a complete system of the 
 trade-winds, we must rather be content with 
 an imperfect history. These," as was said, 
 being the result of a combination of effects, 
 assume as great a variety as the causes pro- 
 ducing them are various. 
 
 Besides the great general wind above men- 
 tioned, in those parts of the Atlantic that lie 
 under the temperate zone, a north wind pre- 
 vails constantly during the months of Octo- 
 ber, November, December, and January. 
 These, therefore, are the most favourable 
 months for embarking for the East Indies, in 
 order to take the benefit of these winds, for 
 crossing the Line: and it has been often found, 
 by experience, that those who had set sail 
 five months before, were not in the least far- 
 ther advanced in their voyage, than those 
 who waited for the favourable wind. During 
 the winter of Nova Zembla, and the other 
 arctic countries, a north wind reigns almost 
 continually. In the Cape de Verde islands, 
 a south wind prevails during the month of 
 July. At the Cape of Good Hope, a north- 
 west wind blows during the month of Sep- 
 tember. There are also regular winds, pro- 
 duced by various causes, upon land. The 
 ancient Greeks were the first who observed 
 a constant breeze, produced by the melting 
 of the snows, in some high neighbouring 
 countries. This was perceived in Greece, 
 Thrace, Macedonia, and the jEgean sea. 
 The same kind of winds are now remarked 
 in the kingdom of Congo, and the most south- 
 ern parts of Africa. The flux and reflux of 
 
 Buftbn, vol. ii. p. 230. 
 
102 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 the sea also produces some regular winds, 
 that serve the purposes of trade ; and, in 
 general, it may be observed, that wherever 
 there is a strong current of water, there is a 
 current of air that seems to attend it. 
 
 Besides these winds that are Ibund to blow 
 in one direction, there are, as was said be- 
 fore, others that blow for certain months of 
 the year, one way, and the rest of the year 
 the contrary way : these are called the mon- 
 soons, from a famous pilot of that name, who 
 first used them in navigation with success." 
 In all that part of the ocean that lies between 
 Africa and India, the east winds begin at 
 the month of January, and continue till about 
 the commencement of June. In the month 
 of August or September, the contrary direc- 
 tion takes place ; and the west winds pre- 
 vail for three or four months. The interval 
 between these winds, that is to say, from the 
 end of June to the beginning of August, there 
 is no fixed wind , but the sea is usually tossed 
 by violent tempests, proceeding from the 
 north. These winds are always subject to 
 their greatest variations as they approach 
 the land ; so that, on one side of the great 
 peninsula of India, the coasts are, for near 
 half the year, harassed by violent hurricanes, 
 and northern tempests ; while, on the oppo- 
 site side, and all along the coasts of Coro- 
 mandel, these dreadful tempests are wholly 
 unknown. At Java and Ceylon, a west wind 
 begins to reign in the month of September; 
 but, at fifteen degrees of south latitude, this 
 wind is found to be lost, and the great ge- 
 neral trade-wind from the east is perceived 
 to prevail. On the contrary, at Cochin, in 
 China, the west wind begins at March; so 
 that these monsoons prevail, at different 
 seasons, throughout the Indies. So that the 
 mariner takes one part of the year to go from 
 Java to the Moluccas ; another from Cochin 
 to Molucca: another from Molucca to China; 
 and still another to direct him from China 
 to Japan. 
 
 There are winds also that may be con- 
 sidered as peculiar to certain coasts; for 
 example, the south wind is almost constant 
 upon the coasts of Chili and Peru ; western 
 winds almost constantly prevail on the coast 
 
 * Varenii Geographia Generalis, cap. 20. 
 
 of Terra Magellanica ; and in the environs 
 of the Straits Le Maire. On the coasts of 
 Malabar, north and north-west winds prevail 
 continually; alorg the coast of Guinea, the 
 north-west wind is also very frequent ; and, 
 at a distance from the coasts, the north-east 
 is always found prevailing. From the begin- 
 ning of November to the end of December, a 
 west wind prevails on the coasts of Japan $ 
 and, during the whole winter, no ships can 
 leave the port of Cochin, on account of the 
 impetuosity of the winds that set upon the 
 coast. These blow with such vehemence, 
 that the ports are entirely choked up with 
 sand, and even boats are not able to enter. 
 However, the east winds that prevail for the 
 other half of the year, clear the mouths of 
 their harbours from the accumulations of the 
 preceding winter, and set the confined ships 
 at liberty. At the Straits of Babelmandel 
 there is a south wind that periodically re- 
 turns, and which is always followed by a 
 north-east. 
 
 Besides winds thus peculiar to certain 
 coasts, there are others found to prevail on 
 all the coasts, in warm climates, which, during 
 one part of the day, blow from the shore, 
 and, during another part of it, blow from the 
 sea. The sea-breeze, in those countries, as 
 Dampier observes, commonly rises in the 
 morning, about nine, proceeding slowly, in a 
 tine small black curl, upon the surface of the 
 water, and making its way to refresh the 
 shore. It is gentle at first, but increases gra- 
 dually till twelve, then insensibly sinks away, 
 and is totally hushed at five. Upon its ceas- 
 ing, the land-breeze begins to take its turn, 
 which increases till twelve at night, and is 
 succeeded, in the morning, by the sea-breeze 
 again. Without all doubt, nothing could 
 have been more fortunate for the inhabitants 
 of the warm countries, where those breezes 
 blow, than this alternate refreshment, which 
 they feel at those seasons when it is most 
 wanted. The heat, on some coasts, would 
 be insupportable, were it not for such a sup- 
 ply of air, when the sun has rarefied all that 
 which lay more immediately under the coast. 
 The sea-breeze temperates the heat of the 
 sun by day ; and the land-breeze corrects 
 the malignity of the dews and vapours by 
 night. Where these breezes, therefore, pre- 
 
THE EARTH 
 
 103 
 
 vail, (and they are very common,) the in- 
 habitants enjoy a share of health and hap- 
 piness, unknown to those that live much far- 
 ther up the country, or such as live in similar j 
 latitudes without this advantage. The cause | 
 of these obviously seems to arise from the . 
 rarefaction of the air by the sun, as their ! 
 duration continues with its appearance, and I 
 alters when it goes down. The sun, it is ob- 
 served, equally diffusing his beams upon land 
 and sea, the land, being a more solid body 
 than the water, receives a greater quantity 
 of heat, and reflects it more strongly. Being 
 thus, therefore, heated to a greater degree 
 than the waters, it, of consequence, drives 
 the air from land out to sea: but, its influence 
 being removed, the air returns to fill up the 
 former vacuity. Such is the usual method 
 of accounting for this phenomenon; but, un- 
 r ortunately, these sea and land-breezes are 
 visitants that come at all hours. On the 
 coasts of Malabar," the land-breezes begin 
 at midnight, and continue till noon; then the 
 sea-breezes take their turn, and continue till 
 midnight. While, again, at Congo, the land- 
 breezes begin at five, and continue till nine 
 the next day. 
 
 But, if the cause of these be so inscrutable, 
 that are, as we see, tolerably regular in their 
 visitations, what shall we say to the winds 
 of our own climate, that are continually shift- 
 ing, and incapable of rest? Some general 
 causes may be assigned, which nothing but 
 particular experience can apply. And, in 
 the first place, it may be observed, that 
 clouds and heat, and, in short,whatever either 
 increases the density or the elasticity of the 
 air, in any one place, will produce a wind 
 there : for the increased activity of the air 
 thus pressing more powerfully on the parts 
 of it that are adjacent, will drive them for- 
 ward ; and thus go on, in a current, till the 
 whole comes to an equality. 
 
 In this manner, as a denser air produces a 
 wind, on the one hand ; so will any accident, 
 that contributes to lighten the air, produce it 
 on the other : for, a lighter air may be con- 
 sidered as a vacuity into which the neigh- 
 bouring air will rush : and hence it happens, 
 that when the barometer marks a peculiar 
 
 Buffon, vol. ii. p. 252. 
 
 lightness in the air, it is no wonder that it 
 foretells a storm. 
 
 The winds, upon large waters, are gene- 
 rally more regular than those upon land. 
 The wind at sea generally blows with an even 
 steady gale; the wind, at land, puff's by inter- 
 vals, increasing its strength, and remitting it, 
 without any apparent cause. This, in a great 
 measure, may be owing to the many moun 
 tains, towers, or trees, that it meets in its 
 way, all contributing either to turn it from 
 its course, or interrupt its passage. 
 
 The east wind blows more constantly than 
 any other, arid for an obvious reason : all 
 other winds are, in some measure, deviations 
 from it, and partly may owe their origin 
 thereto. It is generally, likewise, the most 
 powerful, and for the same reason. 
 
 There are often double currents of the air. 
 While the wind blows one way, we frequent- 
 ly see the clouds move another. This is ge- 
 nerally the case before thunder; for it is well 
 known that the thunder cloud always moves 
 against the wind: the cause of this surprising 
 appearance has hitherto remained a secret. 
 From hence we may conclude, that weather- 
 cocks only inform us of that current of the 
 air, which is near the surface of the earth ; 
 but are often erroneous with regard to the 
 upper regions ; and, in fact, Derham has 
 often found them erroneous. 
 
 Winds are generally more powerful on 
 elevated situations than on the plain, because 
 their progress is interrupted by fewer ob- 
 stacles. In proportion as we ascend the 
 heights of a mountain, the violence of the 
 weather seems to increase, until we have got 
 above the region of storms, where all is 
 usually calm and serene. Sometimes, how- 
 ever, the storms rise even to the tops of the 
 highest mountains; as we learn from those 
 who have been on the Andes, and as we are 
 convinced by the deep snows that crown 
 even the highest. 
 
 Winds blowing from the sea are generally 
 moister, and more attended with rains, than 
 those which blow over extensive tracts of 
 land: for the sea gives off more vapours to 
 the air, and these are rolled forward upon 
 land, by the winds blowing from thence. b Foi 
 
 b Derham's Physico-Theol. 
 
104 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 this reason, our easterly winds that blow 
 from the continent, are dry, compared with 
 those that blow from the surface of the ocean, 
 with which we are surrounded on every 
 other quarter. 
 
 In general the winds are more boisterous 
 in spring and autumn than at other seasons : 
 for that being the time of high tides, the sea 
 may communicate a part of its motions to the 
 winds. The sun and moon, also, which then 
 have a greater effect upon the waters, may 
 also have some influence upon the winds : for, 
 there being a great body of air surrounding 
 the globe, which, if condensed into water, 
 would cover it to the depth of thirty-two feet, 
 it is evident that the sun and moon will, to a 
 proportionable degree, affect the atmosphere, 
 and make a tide of air. This tide will be 
 scarcely perceivable, indeed ; but, without 
 doubt, it actually exists; and may contribute 
 to increase the vernal and autumnal storms, 
 which are then known to prevail. 
 
 Upon narrowing the passage through which 
 the air is driven, both the density and the 
 swiftness of the wind is increased. For, as 
 currents of water flow with greater force and 
 rapidity by narrowing their channels ; so also 
 will a current of air, driven through a con- 
 tracted space, grow more violent and irresis- 
 tible. Hence we find those dreadful storms 
 that prevail in the defiles of mountains, 
 where the wind, pushing from behind through 
 a narrow channel, at once increases in speed 
 and density, levelling, or tearing up, every 
 obstacle that rises to obstruct its passage. 
 
 Winds reflected from the sides of moun- 
 tains and towers, are often found to be more 
 forceful than those in direct progression. 
 This we frequently perceive near lofty build- 
 ings, such as churches or steeples, where 
 winds are generally known to prevail, and 
 that much more powerfully than at some 
 distance. The air, in this case, by striking 
 against the side of the building, acquires ad- 
 ditional density, and, therefore, blows with 
 more force. 
 
 These differing degrees of density, which 
 the air is found to possess, sufficiently show 
 that the force of the winds do not depend 
 upon their velocity alone ; so that those in- 
 struments called anemometers, which are made 
 to measure the velocity of the wind, will by 
 
 ! no means give us certain information of the 
 j force of the storm. In order to estimate this 
 with exactness, we ought to know its density ; 
 I which also these are not calculated to dis- 
 : cover. For this reason we often see storms, 
 ! with very powerful effects, that do not seem to 
 I show any great speed; and, on the contrary, we 
 j see these wind-measurers go round with great 
 ! swiftness, when scarcely any damage has fol- 
 i lowed from the storm. 
 
 Such is the nature and the inconstancy of 
 the irregular winds, with which we are best 
 acquainted. But their effects are much more 
 formidable in those climates near the tropics, 
 where they are often found to break in upon 
 the steady course of the trade-winds, and to 
 mark their passage with destruction. With 
 us the tempest is but rarely known, and its 
 ravages are registered as an uncommon cala- 
 mity ; but in the countries that lie between 
 the tropics, and for a good space beyond them, 
 its visits are frequent, and its effects are an- 
 ticipated. In these regions the winds vary 
 their terrors ; sometimes involving all things 
 in a suffocating heat ; sometimes mixing all 
 the elements of fire, air, earth, and water, to- 
 gether ; sometimes, with a momentary swift- 
 ness, passing over the face of the country, and 
 destroying all things in their passage; and 
 sometimes raising whole sandy deserts in one 
 country, to deposite them upon some other. 
 We have little reason, therefore, to envy 
 these climates the luxuriance of their soil, or 
 the brightness of their skies. Our own muddy 
 atmosphere, that wraps us round in obscurity, 
 though it fails to gild our prospects with sun- 
 shine, or our groves with fruitage, neverthe- 
 less answers the call of industry. They may 
 boast of a plentiful, but precarious, harvest ; 
 while, with us, the labourer toils in a certain 
 expectation of a moderate, but a happy re- 
 turn. 
 
 In Egypt, a a kingdom so noted for its fer- 
 tility and the brightness of its atmosphere, 
 during summer, the south winds are so hot, 
 that they almost stop respiration; besides 
 which, they are charged with such quantities 
 of sand, that they sometimes darken the air, 
 as with a thick cloud. These sands are so 
 fine, and driven with such violence, that they 
 
 Buflfon, vol. ii. p. 258. 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 J05 
 
 penetrate every where, even into chests, be 
 they shut never so closely. If these winds 
 happen to continue for any length of time, 
 they produce epidemic diseases, and are of- 
 ten followed by a great mortality. It is also 
 found to rain but very seldom in that country : 
 however, the want of showers is richly com- 
 pensated by the copiousness of their dews, 
 which greatly tend to promote vegetation. 
 
 In Persia, the winter begins in November, 
 and continues till March. The cold at that 
 time is intense enough to congeal the water ; 
 and snow falls in abundance upon their moun- 
 tains. During the months of March and 
 April, winds arise, that blow with great force, 
 and seem to usher in the heats of summer. 
 These return again in autumn, with some vio- 
 lence; without, however, producing any 
 dreadful effects. But, during their summer, 
 all along the coasts of the Persian Gulf, a 
 very dangerous wind prevails, which the na- 
 tives call the Sameyel, still more dreadful and 
 burning than that of Egypt, and attended 
 with instant and fatal effects. This terrible 
 blast, which was, perhaps, the pestilence of 
 the ancients, instantly kills all those that it 
 involves in its passage. What its malignity 
 consists in, none can tell, as none have ever 
 survived its effects, to give information. It 
 frequently, as I am told, assumes a visible 
 form, and darts, in a kind of bluish vapour, 
 along the surface of the country. The na- 
 tives, not only of Persia, but of Arabia, talk 
 of its effects with terror ; and their poets have 
 not failed to heighten them with the assis- 
 tance of imagination. They have described 
 it as under the conduct of a minister of ven- 
 geance, who governs its terrors, and raises, 
 or depresses it, as he thinks proper. 3 These 
 deadly winds are also known along the coasts 
 of India, at Negapatam, Masulipatam, and 
 Petapoli. But, luckily for mankind, the short- 
 ness of their duration diminishes the injuries 
 that might ensue from their malignity. 
 
 The Cape of Good Hope, as well as many 
 islands in the West-Indies, are famous for 
 their hurricanes, and that extraordinary kind 
 of cloud which is said to produce them. 
 This cloud, which is the forerunner of an ap- 
 proaching hurricane, appears, when first seen, 
 
 Herbelot, Bibliotheque Oriental. 
 
 like a small black spot, on the verge of the 
 horizon ; and is called, by sailors, the bull's 
 eye, from being seen so minute at a vast dis- 
 tance. All this time a perfect calm reigns 
 over the sea and land, while the cloud grows 
 gradually broader as it approaches. At 
 length, coming to the place where its fury is 
 to fall, it invests the whole horizon with dark- 
 ness. During all the time of its approach, an 
 hollow murmur is heard in the cavities of the 
 mountains ; and beasts and animals, sensible 
 of its approach, are seen running over the 
 fields, to seek for shelter. Nothing can be 
 more terrible than its violence when it begins. 
 The houses in those countries, which are 
 made of timber, the better to resist its fury, 
 bend to the blast like osiers, and again re- 
 cover their rectitude. The sun, which but 
 a moment before blazed with meridian splen- 
 dour, is totally shut out; and a midnight 
 darkness prevails, except that the air is in- 
 cessantly illuminated with gleams of lightning, 
 by which one can easily see to read. The 
 rain falls, at the same time, in torrents ; and 
 its descent has been resembled to what pours 
 from the spouts of our houses after a violent 
 shower. These hurricanes are not less offen- 
 sive to the sense of smelling also, and never 
 come without leaving the most noisome stench 
 behind them. If the seamen also lay by 
 their wet clothes, for twenty-four hours, they 
 are all found swarming with little white rnag- 
 
 S)ts, that were brought with the hurricane, 
 ur first mariners, when they visited these 
 regions, were ignorant of its effects, and the 
 signs of its approach; their ships, therefore, 
 were dashed to the bottom at the first onset ; 
 and numberless were the wrecks which the 
 hurricane occasioned. But, at present, being 
 forewarned of its approach, they strip their 
 masts of all their sails, and thus patiently 
 abide its fury. These hurricanes are com- 
 mon in all the tropical climates. On the 
 coasts of Guinea they have frequently three 
 or four in a day, that thus shut out the hea- 
 vens for a liltle space ; and, when past, leave 
 all again in former splendour. They chiefly 
 prevail, on that coast, in the intervals of the 
 trade winds ; the approach of which clears 
 the air of its meteors, and gives these mortal 
 showers that little degree of wholesomeness 
 which they possess. They chiefly obtain 
 
106 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 there during the months of April and May ; 
 they are known at Loango from January to 
 April; on the opposite coast of Africa, the 
 hurricane season begins in May; and, in ge- 
 neral, whenever a trade-wind begins to cease, 
 these irregular tempests are found to exert 
 their fury. 
 
 All this is terrible : but there is a tempest, 
 known in those climates, more formidable than 
 any we have hitherto been describing, which 
 is called, by the Spaniards, a Tornado. As 
 the former was seen arriving from one part 
 of the heavens, and making a line of destruc- 
 tion ; so the winds in this seem to blow from 
 every quarter, and settle upon one destined 
 place, with such fury, that nothing can resist 
 their vehemence. When they have all met 
 in their central spot, then the whirlwind be- 
 gins with circular rapidity. The sphere every 
 moment widens, as it continues to turn, and 
 catches every object that lies within its attrac- 
 tion. This also, like the former, is preceded 
 by a flattering calm; the air is every where 
 hushed ; and the sea is as smooth as polished 
 glass : however, as its effects are more dread- 
 ful than those of the ordinary hurricane, the 
 mariner tries all the power of his skill to 
 avoid it; which, if he fails of doing, there is 
 the greatest danger of his going to the bot- 
 tom. All along the coasts of Guinea, begin- 
 ning about two degrees north of the line, and 
 so downward, lengthwise, for about a thou- 
 sand miles, and as many broad, the ocean is 
 unnavigable on account of these tornadoes. 
 In this torrid region there reign unceasing 
 tornadoes, or continual calms ; among which, 
 whatever ship is so unhappy as to fall, is to- 
 tally deprived of all power of escaping. In 
 this dreadful repose of all the elements, the 
 solitary vessel is obliged to continue, without 
 a single breeze to assist the mariner's wishes, 
 except those whirlwinds, which only serve to 
 increase his calamity. At present, therefore, 
 this part of the ocean is totally avoided ; and, 
 although there may be much gold along the 
 coasts of that part of Africa, to tempt avarice, 
 yet there is something much more dreadful 
 than the fabled dragon of antiquity, to guard 
 the treasure. Asthe internal parts of that coun- 
 try are totally unknown to travellers, from 
 their burning sands and extensive deserts, 
 so here we find a vast tract of ocean, lying 
 
 oiF its shores, equally unvisited by the ma- 
 riner. 
 
 But of all these terrible tempests that de- 
 form the face of Nature, and repress human 
 presumption, the sandy tempests of Arabia 
 and Africa are the most terrible, and strike 
 the imagination most strongly. To conceive 
 a proper idea of these, we are by no means 
 to suppose them resembling those whirlwinds 
 of dust that we sometimes see scattering in 
 in our air, and sprinkling their contents upon 
 our roads or meadows. The sand-storm of 
 Africa exhibits a very different appearance. 
 As the sand of which the whirlwind is com- 
 posed is excessively fine, and almost resem- 
 bles the parts of water, its motion entirely re- 
 sembles that of a fluid ; and the whole plain 
 seems to float onward, like a slow inundation. 
 The body of sand thus rolling, is deep enough 
 to bury nouses and palaces in its bosom : tra- 
 vellers, who are crossing those extensive de- 
 serts, perceive its approach at a distance ; 
 and, in genera 1 have time to avoid it, or turn 
 out of its way, as it generally extends but to 
 a moderate breadth. However, when it is 
 extremely rapid, or very extensive, as some- 
 times is the case, no swiftness, no art, can 
 avail; nothing then remains, but to meet 
 death with fortitude, and submit to be buried 
 alive with resignation. 
 
 It is happy for us of Britain, that we have 
 no such calamity to fear; for, from this, even 
 some parts of Europe are not entirely free. 
 We have an account given us, in the History 
 of the French Academy, of a miserable town 
 in France, that is constantly in danger of be- 
 ing buried under a similar inundation; with 
 which I will take leave to close this chapter. 
 " In the neighbourhood of St. Paul de Leon, 
 in Lower Brittany, there lies a tract of coun- 
 try along the sea-side, which before the year 
 1666 was inhabited, but now lies deserted, 
 by reason of the sands which cover it, to the 
 height of twenty feet ; and which every year 
 advance more and more inland, and gain 
 ground continually. From the time men- 
 tioned above, the sand has buried more than 
 six leagues of the country inward : and it is 
 now but half a league from the town of St. 
 Paul ; so that, in all appearance, the inha- 
 
 " Histoire de 1'Academie des Sciences, an. 1722. 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 107 
 
 bitants must be obliged to abandon it en- 
 tirely. 
 
 In the country that has been overwhelm- 
 ed, there are still to be seen the tops of some 
 steeples peeping through the sand, and many 
 chimneys that still remain above the sandy 
 ocean. The inhabitants, however, had suffi- 
 cient time to escape ; but being deprived of 
 their little all, they had no other resource 
 but begging for their subsistence. This ca- 
 lamity chiefly owes its advancement to a 
 north, or an east wind, raising the sand, which 
 is extremely fine, in such great quantities, 
 and with such velocity, that M. Deslandes, 
 who gave the account, says, that while he 
 was walking near the place, during a mode- 
 rate breeze of wind, he was obliged, from 
 time to time, to shake the sand from his 
 clothes and his hat, on which it was lodged 
 in great quantities, and made them too heavy 
 to be easily borne. Still further, when the 
 wind was violent, it drove the sand across a 
 little arm of the sea, into the town of Roscoff, 
 and covered the streets of that place two 
 feet deep ; so that they have been obliged 
 
 to carry it off in carts. It may also be ob- 
 served, that there are several particles of 
 iron mixed with the sand, which are readily 
 affected by the loadstone. The part of the 
 coast that furnishes these sands, is a tract of 
 about four leagues in length ; and is upon a 
 level with the sea at high-water. The shore 
 lies in such a manner as to leave its sands 
 subject only to the north and east winds, 
 that bear them farther up the shore. It is 
 easy to conceive how the same sand that has 
 at one time been borne a short way inland, 
 may, by some succeeding and stronger blast, 
 be carried up much higher; and thus the 
 whole may continue advancing forward, de- 
 luging the plain, and totally destroying its 
 fertility. At the same time, the sea, from 
 whence this deluge of sand proceeds, may 
 furnish it in inexhaustible quantities. This 
 unhappy country, thus so overwhelmed in so 
 singular a manner, may well justify what the 
 ancients and the moderns have reported con- 
 cerning those tempests of sand in Africa, that 
 are said to destroy villages, and even armies 
 in their bosom." 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 OF METEORS, AND SUCH APPEARANCES AS RESULT FROM A COMBINATION 
 
 OF THE ELEMENTS. 
 
 IN proportion as the substances of nature 
 are more compounded and combined, their 
 appearances become more inexplicable and 
 amazing. The properties of water have been 
 very nearly ascertained. Many of the quali- 
 ties of air, earth, and fire, have been disco- 
 vered and estimated ; but when these come 
 to be united by nature, they often produce 
 a result which no artificial combinations can 
 imitate: and we stand surprised, that although 
 we are possessed of all those substances 
 which nature makes use of, she shows her- 
 self a much more various operator than the 
 most .skilful chemist ever appeared to be. 
 Every cloud that moves, and every shower 
 that falls, serves to mortify the philosopher's 
 pride, and to show him hidden qualities in 
 
 air and water, that he finds it difficult to ex- 
 plain. Dews, hail, snow, and thunder, are 
 not less difficult for being more common. In- 
 deed, when we reflect on the manner in 
 which nature performs any one of these ope- 
 rations, our wonder increases. To see water, 
 which is heavier than air, rising in air, and 
 then falling in a form so very different from 
 that in which it rose ; to see the same fluid 
 at one time descending in the form of hail, 
 at another in that of snow ; to see two clouds, 
 by dashing against each other, producing an 
 electrical fire, which no watery composition 
 that we know of can effect ; these, I say, 
 serve sufficiently to excite our wonder; and 
 still the more, in proportion as the objects 
 are ever pressing on our curiosity. Much. 
 2 A 
 
100 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 however, has been written concerning the 
 manner in which nature operates in these 
 productions ; as nothing is so ungrateful to 
 mankind as hopeless ignorance. 
 
 And first, with regard to the manner in 
 which water evaporates, and rises to form 
 clouds, much has been advanced, and many 
 theories devised. All water," say some, has 
 a quantity of air mixed with it ; and the heat 
 of the sun darting down, disengages the par- 
 ticles of this air from the grosser fluid ; the 
 sun's rays being reflected back from the 
 water, carry back with them those bubbles 
 of air and water, which, being lighter than 
 the condensed air, will ascend till they meet 
 with a more rarefied air; and they will then 
 stand suspended. Experience, however, 
 proves nothing of all this. Particles of air 
 or fire, are not thus known to ascend with a 
 thin coat of water; and, in fact, we know 
 that the little particles of steam are solid 
 drops of water. But, besides this, water is 
 known to evaporate more powerfully in the 
 severest frost, than when the air is moderately 
 warm. b Dr. Hamilton, therefore, of the uni- 
 versity of Dublin, rejecting this theory, has 
 endeavoured to establish another. According 
 to him, as aqua-fortis is a menstruum that dis- 
 solves iron, and keeps it mixed in the fluid ; 
 as aqua-regia is a menstruum that dissolves 
 gold ; or as water dissolves salts to a certain 
 quantity, so air is a menstruum that corrodes 
 and dissolves a certain quantity of water, and 
 keeps it suspended above. But however in- 
 genious this may be, it can hardly be admit- 
 ted : as we know by Mariotte's experiment," 
 that if water and air be inclosed together, in- 
 stead of the air's acting as a menstruum upon 
 the water, the water will act as a menstruum 
 upon the air, and take it all up. We know 
 also, that of two bodies, that which is most 
 fluid and penetrating, is most likely to be 
 the menstruum of the other; but water is 
 more fluid and penetrating than air, and 
 therefore the most likely of the two to be the 
 menstruum. We know that all bodies are 
 more speedily acted upon, the more their 
 parts are brought into contact with the men- 
 struum that dissolves them ; but water, in- 
 
 a Spectacle de la Nature, vol. iii. 
 
 b Memoires de 1' Academic des Sciences, an. 1705. 
 
 closed with compressed air, is not the mdre 
 diminished thereby.* 1 In short, we know that 
 cold, which diminishes the force of other men- 
 struuras, is often found to promote evapora- 
 tion. In this variety of opinion and uncer- 
 tainty of conjecture, I cannot avoid thinking 
 that a theory of evaporation may be formed 
 upon very simple and obvious principles, and 
 embarrassed, as far as I can conceive, with 
 very few objections. 
 
 We know that a repelling power prevails 
 in nature, not less than an attractive one. 
 This repulsion prevails strongly between the 
 body of fire and that of water. If I plunge 
 the end of a red-hot bar of iron into a vessel 
 of water, the fluid rises, and large drops of it 
 fly up in all manner of directions, every part 
 bubbling and steaming until the iron be cold. 
 Why may we not ibr a moment compare the 
 rays of the sun, darted directly upon the sur- 
 face of the water, to so many bars of red-hot 
 iron, each bar indeed infinitely small, but 
 not the less powerful ? In this case, wher- 
 ever a ray of fire darts, the water, from its re- 
 pulsive quality, will be driven on all sides; 
 and, of consequence, as in the case of the 
 bar of iron, a part of it will rise. The parts 
 thus rising, however, will be extreau-ly small ; 
 as the ray that darts is extremely so. The 
 assemblage of the rays darting upon the water 
 is this manner, will cause it to rise in a light 
 thin steam above the surface ; and as the 
 parts of this steam are extremely minute, they 
 will be lighter than air, and consequently 
 float upon it. There is no need for supposing 
 them bubbles of water filled with fire ; for 
 any substance, even gold itself, will float on 
 air, if its parts be made small enough ; or, in 
 other words, if its surface be sufficiently in- 
 creased. This water, thus disengaged from 
 the general mass, will be still farther atten- 
 uated and broken by the reflected rays, and 
 consequently more adapted for ascending. 
 
 From this plain account, every appearance 
 in evaporation may be easily deduced. The 
 quantity of heat increases evaporation, be- 
 cause it raises a greater quantity of steam. 
 The quantity of wind increases evaporation ; 
 for, by waving the surface of the wateryjt thus 
 
 c Mariotte, de la Nature de 1'Air, p. 97, 106. 
 * See Boyle'* Works, vol. ii. p. 6l9. 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 109 
 
 exposes a greater surface to the vaporating 
 rays. A dry frost, in some measure, assists 
 the quantity of evaporation ; as the quantity 
 of rtys are found to be no way diminished 
 th<> 'by. Moist weather alone prevents eva- 
 poration; for the rays being absorbed, re- 
 fracted, and broken, by the intervening mois- 
 ture, before they arrive at the surface, cannot 
 produce the effect; and the vapour will rise 
 in a small proportion. 
 
 Thus far we have accounted for the ascent 
 of vapours; but to accountfor their fallingagain 
 is attetided with rather more difficulty. We 
 have already observed, that the particles of 
 vapour, disengaged from the surface iof the 
 water, will be broken and attenuated in their 
 ascent, by the reflected, and even the direct 
 rays, that happen to strike upon their minute 
 surfaces. They will, therefore, continue to 
 ascend, till they rise above the 'operation of 
 the reflected rays, which reaches but to a 
 certain height above the surface of the earth. 
 Being arrived at tin's region, which is cold 
 for want of reflected heat, they will be con- 
 densed, and suspended in the form of clouds. 
 Some vapours, that ascend to great heights, 
 will be frozen into snow : others, that are con- 
 densed lower down, will put on the appear- 
 ance of a mist, which we find the clouds to 
 be when we ascend among them, as they hang 
 along the sides of a mountain. These clouds 
 of snow and rain, being blown about by winds, 
 are either entirely scattered and dispersed 
 above, or they are still more condensed by ; 
 motion, like a snow-ball, that grows more 
 large and solid as it continues to roll. At last, 
 therefore, they will become too weighty for 
 the air which first raised them to sustain ; and 
 they will descend with their excess of weight, 
 either in snow or rain. But, as they will fall 
 precipitately, when they begin to descend,the 
 air, in some measure, will resist the falling: 
 for, as the descending fluid gathers velocity 
 in its precipitation, the air will increase its 
 resistance to it, and the water will, therefore, 
 be thus broken into rain ; as we see that wa- 
 ter which falls from the tops of houses, though 
 it begins in a spout, separates into drops 
 before it has got to the bottom. Were it not 
 for this happy interposition of the air, be- 
 tween us and the water falling from a consi- 
 derable height above us, a drop of rain might 
 
 fall with dangerous force, and a hailstone 
 might strike us with fatal rapidity. 
 
 In this mariner, evaporation is produced 
 by day ; hut when the sun goes down, a part 
 of that vapour which his rays had excited, 
 being no longer broken, and attenu ted by 
 the reflecting rays, it will become heavier 
 than the air, even before it has reached the 
 clouds; and it will, therefore, fall back in 
 dews, which differ only from rain in descend- 
 ing before they have had time to condense 
 into a visible form. 
 
 Hail, the Cartesians say, is a frozen cloud, 
 half melted, and frozen again in its descent. 
 A hoar frost is but a frozen dew. Lightning 
 we know to be an electrical flash, produced 
 by the opposition of two clouds : and thun- 
 der to be the sound proceeding from the 
 same, continued by an echo reverberated 
 among them. It would be to very little pur- 
 pose to attempt explaining exactly how 
 these wonders are effected ; we have as yet 
 but little insight into the manner in which 
 these meteors are found to operate upon each 
 other; and, therefore, we must be contented 
 with a detail rather of their effects than their 
 causes. 
 
 In our own gentle climate, where nature 
 wears the mildest and kindest aspect, every 
 meteor seems to befriend us. With us, rains 
 fall in refreshing showers, to enliven our fields, 
 and to paint the landscape with a more vivid 
 beauty. Snows cover the earth, to preserve 
 its tender vegetables from the inclemency of 
 the departing winter. The dews descend 
 with such an imperceptible fall as no way in- 
 jures the constitution. Even thunder is sel- 
 dom injurious ; and it is often wished lor by 
 the husbandman, to clear the air, and to kill 
 numberless insects that are noxious to vege- 
 tation. Hail is the most injurious meteor 
 that is known in our climate ; but it seldom 
 visits us with violence, and then its fury is 
 but transient. 
 
 One of the most dreadful storms we hear 
 of," was that of Hertfordshire, in the year 
 1697. It began by thunder and lightning, 
 which continued for some hours, when sud- 
 denly a black cloud came forward, against 
 the wind, and marked its passage with de- 
 
 Phil. Trans, vol. ii. p. 147. 
 
 2A 
 
110 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 vastation. The hailstones which it poured 
 down, being measured, were found to be 
 many of them fourteen inches round, and, con- 
 sequently, as large as a bowling-green ball. 
 Wherever it came, every plantation fell be- 
 fore it ; it tore up the ground, split great oaks, 
 and other trees, without number ; the fields 
 of rye were cut down, as if levelled with a 
 scythe; wheat, oats, and barley, suffered the 
 same damage. The inhabitants found but a 
 precarious shelter, even in their houses, their 
 tiles and windows being broke by the violence 
 of the hailstones, which, by the force with 
 which they came, seemed to have descended 
 from a great height. The birds, in this uni- 
 versal wreck, vainly tried to escape by flight ; 
 pigeons, crows, rooks, and many more of the 
 smaller and feebler kinds,were brought down. 
 An unhappy young man, who had not time to 
 take shelter, was killed; one of his eyes was 
 struck out of his head, and Ins body was all 
 over black with the bruises; another had just 
 time to escape, but not without the most im- 
 minent danger, his body being bruised all 
 over. But what is most extraordinary, all 
 this fell within the compass of a mile. 
 
 Mezeray, in his history of France, tells us 
 of a shower of hail much more terrible, which 
 happened in the year 1510, when the French 
 monarch invaded Italy. There was, for a 
 time, a horrid darkness, thicker than that of 
 midnight, which continued till the terrors of 
 mankind were changed to still more terrible 
 objects, by thunder and lightning breaking 
 the gloom, and bringing on such a shower of 
 hail, as no history of human calamities could 
 equal. These hailstones were of a bluish 
 colour, and some of them weighed not less 
 than a hundred pounds. A noisome vapour 
 of sulphur attended the storm. All the birds 
 and beasts of the country were entirely de- 
 stroyed. Numbers of the human race suffer- 
 ed the same fate. But what is still more ex- 
 traordinary, the fishes found no protection 
 from their native element ; but were equal 
 sufferers in the general calamity. 
 
 These, however, are terrors that are seldom 
 exerted in our mild cliimtes. They only 
 serve to mark the page of history with won- 
 der; and stand as admonitions to man- 
 kind of the various stores of punishment 
 in the hands of the Deity, which his power 
 
 can treasure up, and his mercy can suspend. 
 
 In the temperate zones, therefore, meteors 
 I are rarely found thus terrible; but between 
 the tropics, and near the poles, they assume 
 very dreadful and various appearances. In 
 those inclement regions, where cold and heat 
 exert their chief power, meteors seem pecu- 
 liarly to have fixed their residence. They 
 are seen there in a thousand terrifying forms, 
 astonishing to Europeans, yet disregarded by 
 the natives, from their frequency. The won- 
 ders of air, fire, and water, are there com- 
 bined, to produce the most tremendous ef- 
 fects ; and to sport with the labours and ap- 
 prehensions of mankind. Lightnings, that 
 flash without noise ; hurricanes, that tear up 
 the earth ; clouds, that all at once pour down 
 their contents, and produce an instant deluge; 
 mock suns; northern lights, that illuminate 
 half the hemisphere ; circular rainbows ; 
 halos; fleeting balls of fire ; clouds, reflecting 
 back the images of things on earth, like mir- 
 rors ; and water-spouts, that burst from the 
 sea, to join with the mists that hang imme- 
 diately above them. These are but a part 
 of the phenomena that are common in those 
 countries ; and from many of which our own 
 climate is, in a great measure, exempted. 
 
 The meteors of the torrid zone are different 
 from those that are found near the polar cir- 
 cles ; and it may readily be supposed, that 
 in those countries where the sun exerts the 
 greatest force in raising vapours of all kinds, 
 there should be the greatest quantity of me- 
 teors. Upon the approach of the winter 
 months, as they are called, under the Line, 
 which usually begin about May, the sky, from 
 a fiery brightness, begins to be overcast, and 
 the whole horizon seems wrapt in a muddy 
 cloud. Mists and vapours still continue to 
 rise ; and the air, which so lately before was 
 clear and elastic, now becomes humid, ob- 
 scure, and stifling : the fogs become so thick, 
 that the light of the sun seems, in a manner, 
 excluded; nor would its presence be known, 
 but for the intense and suffocating heat of its 
 beams, which dart through the gloom, and, 
 instead of dissipating, only serve to incr^"e 
 the mist. 
 
 After this preparation, there follcws r*,j al 
 most continual succession of thunder, rain, 
 and tempests. During this dreadful season, 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 Ill 
 
 the streets of cities flow like rivers ; and the 
 whole country wears the appearance of an 
 ocean. The inhabitants often make use of 
 this opportunity to lay in a stock of fresh 
 water, for the rest of the year; as the same 
 cause which pours down the deluge at one 
 season, denies the kindly shower at another. 
 The thunder which attends the fall of these 
 rains, is much more terrible than that we are 
 generally acquainted with. With us the flash 
 is seen at some distance, and the noise short- 
 ly after ensues ; our thunder generally rolls 
 on one quarter of the sky, and one stroke 
 pursues another. But here it is otherwise; 
 the whole sky seems illuminated with unrc- 
 mitted ilishes of lightning; every part of the 
 air stains productive of its own thunders; 
 and every cloud produces its own shock. 
 The strokes come so thick, that the inhabi- 
 tants can scarcely mark the intervals; butall is 
 one unremitted roar of elementary confusion. 
 It should seem, however, that the lightning 
 of those countries is not so fatal, or so dan- 
 gerous, as with us ; since, in this case, the 
 torrid zone would be uninhabitable. 
 
 When these terrors have ceased, with 
 which, however, the natives are familiar, me- 
 teors of another kind begin to make their ap- 
 pearance. The intense beams of the sun, 
 darting upon stagnant waters, that generally 
 cover the surface of the country, raise va- 
 pours of various kinds. Floating bodies of 
 fire, which assume different names, rather 
 from their accidental forms, than from any 
 real difference between them, are seen with- 
 out surprise. The draco volans, or flying 
 dragon, as it is called ; the ignis fatuus, or 
 wandering fire; the fires of St. Helmo, or the 
 
 ariner's light, are every where frequent ; 
 and of these we have numberless descriptions. 
 " As I was riding in Jamaica," says Mr. Barb- 
 ham, " one morning from my habitation, situ- 
 ated about three miles north-west from Jago 
 de la Vega, I saw a ball of tire, appearing to 
 me of the bigness of a bomb, swiftly falling 
 down with a great blaze. At first I thought 
 it fell into the town ; but when I came nearer, 
 I saw many people gathered together, a little 
 to the southward, in the savanna, to whom 
 I rode up, to inquire the cause of their meet- 
 ing: they were admiring, as I found, the 
 ground's being strangely broke up and plough- 
 
 ed by a ball of fire ; which, as they said, fell 
 down there. I observed there were many 
 holes in the ground ; one in the middle, of 
 the bigness of a man's head, and five or six 
 smaller roundabout it, ol the bigness of one's 
 fist, and so deep as not to be fathomed by 
 such implements as were at hand. It was 
 observed also, that all the green herbage was 
 burnt up, near the holes; and there conti- 
 nued a strong smell of sulphur near the place, 
 for some time after." 
 
 Ulloa gives an account of one of a similar 
 kind, at Quito.* " About nine at night," says 
 he, " a globe of fire appeared to rise from the 
 side of the mountain Pichinca, and so large, 
 that it spread a light over all the part of the 
 city facing that mountain. The house where 
 I lodged looking that way, I was surprised 
 with an extraordinary light, darting through 
 the crevices of the window-shutters. On 
 this appearance, and the bustle of the people 
 in the street, I hastened to the window, and 
 came time enough to see it, in the middle of 
 its career; which continued from west to 
 south, till I lost sight of it, being intercepted 
 by a mountain, that lay between me and it. 
 It was round ; and its apparent diameter 
 about a foot. I observed it to rise from the 
 sides of Pichinca ; although, to judge from its 
 course, it was behind that mountain where 
 this congeries of inflammable matter was 
 kindled. In the first half of its visible course, 
 it emitted a prodigious effulgence, then it be- 
 gan gradually to grow dim ; so that, upon its 
 disappearing behind the intervening moun- 
 tain, its light was very faint." 
 
 Meteors of this kind are very frequently 
 seen between the tropics; but they some- 
 times, also, visit the more temperate regions 
 of Europe. We have the description of a 
 very extraordinary one, given us by Monta- 
 nari, that serves to show to what great 
 heights, in our atmosphere, these vapours are 
 found to ascend. In the year 1676, a great 
 globe of fire was seen at Bononia, in Italy, 
 about three quarters of an hour after sun-set. 
 It passed westward, with a most rapid course, 
 and at the rate of not less than a hundred 
 and sixty miles in a minute, which is much 
 swifter than the force of a cannon-ball, and, 
 
 Ulloa, vol. i. p. 41. 
 
112 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 at last, stood over the Adriatic sea. In its 
 course it crossed over all Italy ; and, by com- 
 putation, it could not have been less than 
 thirty-eight miles above the surface of the 
 earth. In the whole line of its course, wher- 
 ever it approached, the inhabitants below 
 could distinctly hear it, with a hissing noise, 
 resembling that of a fire-work. Having pass- 
 ed away to sea, towards Corsica, it was heard, 
 at last, to go off with a most violent explosion, 
 much louder than that of a cannon : and, im- 
 mediately after, another noise was heard, like 
 the rattling of a great cart upon a stony pave- 
 ment ; which was, probably, nothing more 
 than the echo of the former sound. Its mag- 
 nitude, when at Bononia, appeared twice as 
 long as the moon, one way, and as broad the 
 other; so that, considering its height, it could 
 not have been less than a mile long, and half 
 a mile broad. From the height at which this 
 was seen, and there being no volcano on that 
 quarter of the world from whence it came, it 
 is more than probable that this terrible globe 
 was kindled on some part of the contrary side 
 of the globe, in those regions of vapours which 
 we have been just describing; and thus, rising 
 above the air, and passing in a course oppo- 
 site to that of the earth's motion, in this man- 
 ner it acquired its amazing rapidity. 
 
 To these meteors, common enough south- 
 ward, we will add one more of a very uncom- 
 mon kind, which was seen byUlloa, at Quito, 
 in Peru; the beauty of which will, in some 
 measure, serve to relieve us, after the descrip- 
 tion of those hideous ones preceding. " At 
 day break," says he, " the whole mountain 
 of Pambamarca, where we then resided, was 
 encompassed with very thick clouds ; which 
 the rising of the sun dispersed so far, as to 
 leave only some vapours, too fine to be seen. 
 On the side opposite to the rising sun, and 
 about ten fathoms distant from the place 
 where we were standing, we saw, as in a 
 looking-glass, each his own image ; the head 
 being as it were, the centre of three circular 
 rainbows, one without the other, and just 
 near enough to each other as that the colours 
 of the internal verged upon those more ex- 
 ternal ; while round all was a circle of white, 
 but with a greater space between. In this 
 manner these circles were erected, like a mir- 
 ror, before us ; and as we moved, they moved, 
 in disposition and order. But what is most 
 
 remarkable, though we were six in number, 
 every one saw the phenomenon with regard 
 to himself, and not that relating to others. 
 The diameter of the arches gradually altered, 
 as the sun rose above the horizon ; and the 
 whole, after continuing a long time, insensibly 
 faded away. In the beginning, the diameter 
 of the inward iris, taken from its last colour, 
 was about five degrees and a half; and that 
 of the white arch, which surrounded the rest, 
 was not less than sixty-seven degrees. At the 
 beginning of the phenomenon, the arches 
 seemed of an oval, or elliptical figure, like the 
 disk of the sun ; and afterwards became per- 
 fectly circular. Each of these was of a red 
 colour, bordered with an orange ; and the 
 last bordered by a bright yellow, which altered 
 into a straw colour, and this turned to a green ; 
 but, in all, the external colour remained red." 
 Such is the description of one of the most 
 beautiful illusions that has ever been seen in 
 nature. This alone seems to have combined 
 all the splendours of optics in one view. To 
 understand the manner, therefore, how this 
 phsenomenon was produced, would require a 
 perfect knowledge of optics ; which it is not 
 our present province to enter upon. It will 
 be sufficient, therefore, only to observe, that 
 all these appearances arise from the density 
 of the cloud, together with its uncommon and 
 peculiar situation, with respect to the specta- 
 tor and the sun. It may be observed, that 
 but one of these three rainbows was real, the 
 rest being only reflections thereof. It may 
 also be observed, that whenever the spectator 
 stands between the sun and a cloud of fulling 
 rain, a rainbow is seen, which is nothing more 
 than the reflection of the different coloured 
 rays of light from the bosom of the cloud. If, 
 for instance, we take a glass globe, filled wit 
 water, and hang it up before us opposite th 
 sun, in many situations it will appear trans- 
 parent ; but if it is raised higher, or sidewnys, 
 to an angle of forty-five degrees, it will ot lirst 
 appear red ; altered a very little higher, yellow ; 
 then green, then blue, then violet colour: in 
 short, it will assume surrossively all the colours 
 of the rainbow ; but, if raisi d higher still, it 
 will become transparent again. A falling 
 shower may be considered as an infinite Dum- 
 ber of these little transparent globes, assuming 
 different colours, by being placed at their 
 proper heights. The rest of the shower will 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 113 
 
 appear transparent, and no part of it will 
 seem coloured ; but such as are at angles of 
 forty-five degrees from the eye, forty-rive de- 
 grees upward, forty-five degrees on each side, 
 and forty-five degrees downward, did not the 
 plane of the earth prevent us. We therefore 
 see only an arch of the rainbow, the lower 
 part being cut ofFfrom our sight by the earth's 
 interposition. However, upon the tops of 
 very high mountains, circular rainbows are 
 Been, because we can see to an angle of forty- 
 five degrees downward, as well as upward, 
 or sideways, and therefore we take in the 
 rainbow's complete circle. 
 
 In those forlorn regions round the poles, 
 the meteors, though of another kind, are not 
 less numerous and alarming. When the win- 
 ter begins, and the cold prepares to set in, 
 the same misty appearance which is pro- 
 duced in the southern climates by the heat, 
 is there produced by the contrary extreme." 
 The sea smokes like an oven, and a fog 
 arises, which mariners call the frost smoke. 
 This cutting mist commonly raises blisters 
 on several parts of the body ; and, as soon as 
 it is wafted to some colder part of the atmos- 
 phere, it freezes to little icy particles, which 
 are driven by the wind, and creates such an 
 intense cold on land, that the limbs of the 
 inhabitants are sometimes frozen, and drop 
 off 
 
 There, also, halos, or luminous circles 
 round the moon, are oftener seen than in any 
 other part of the earth, being formed by the 
 frost smoke ; although the air otherwise 
 seems to be clear. A lunar rainbow also is 
 often seen there, though somewhat different 
 from that which is common with us ; as it ap- 
 
 irs of a pale white, striped with gray. In 
 se countries also, the aurora borealis 
 streams with peculiar lustre, and variety of 
 colours. In Greenland it generally arises in 
 the east, and darts its sportive fires, with va- 
 riegated beauty, over the whole horizon. 
 Its appearance is almost constant in winter; 
 and at those seasons when the sun departs, 
 to return no more for half a year, this meteor | 
 kindly rises to supply its beams, and affords 
 sufficient light for all the purposes of exis- 
 tence. However, in the very midst of their 
 
 Paul Egede's History of Greenland. 
 
 tedious night, the inhabitants are not entirely 
 forsaken. The tops of the mountains are of- 
 ten seen painted with the red rays of the sun ; 
 and the poor Greenlander from thence begins 
 to date his chronology. It would appear 
 whimsical to read a Greenland calendar, in 
 which we might be told, That one of their 
 chiefs, having lived forty days, died, at last, 
 of a good old age ; and that his widow con- 
 tinued for half a day to deplore his loss, with 
 great fidelity, before she admitted a second 
 husband. 
 
 The meteors of the day, in these countries, 
 are not less extaordinary than those of the 
 night : mock suns are often reflected upon 
 an opposite cloud ; and the ignorant spec- 
 tator fancies that there are often three or 
 four real suns in the firmament at the same 
 time. In this splendid appearance the real 
 sun is always readily known by its superior 
 brightness, every reflection being seen with 
 diminished splendour. The solar rainbow 
 there, is often seen different from ours. In- 
 stead of a pleasing variety of colours, it ap- 
 pears of a pale white, edged with a stripe of 
 dusky yellow; the whole being reflected 
 from the bosom of a frozen cloud. 
 
 But, of all the meteors which mock the 
 imagination with an appearance of reality, 
 those strange illusions that are seen there, m 
 fine serene weather, are the most extraor- 
 dinary and entertaining. " Nothing," says 
 Krantz, " ever surprised me more, than on a 
 fine warm summer,s day, to perceive the islands 
 that lie four leagues west of our shore, putting 
 on a form quite different from what they are 
 known to have. As I stood gazing upon 
 them, they appeared at first infinitely greater 
 than what they naturally are ; and seemed 
 as if I viewed them through a large mag- 
 nifying glass. They were not thus only made 
 larger, but brought nearer to me. I plainly 
 descried every stone upon the land, and all 
 the furrows filled with ice, as if I stood close 
 by. When this illusion had lasted for a 
 while, the prospect seemed to break up, and 
 a new scene of wonder to present itself. The 
 island seemed to travel to the shore, and re- 
 presented a wood, or a tall cut hedge. The 
 scene then shifted, and showed the ap- 
 pearance of all sorts of curious figures ; as 
 ships with sails, streamers, and flags ; antique 
 
J14 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 elevated castles, with decayed turrets ; and 
 a thousand forms, for which fancy, .found a 
 resemblance in nature. When the eye had 
 been satisfied with gazing, the whole group 
 of riches seemed to rise in air, and at length 
 vanish into nothing. At such times the wea- 
 ther is quite serene and clear; but compressed 
 with such subtle vapours, as it is in very hot 
 weather ; and these appearing between the 
 eye and the object, give it all that variety of 
 appearances which glasses of different re- 
 frangibilities would have done." Mr. Krantz 
 observes, that commonly a couple of hours 
 afterwards, a gentle west wind and a visible 
 mist follow, which put an end to this lusus 
 natures. 
 
 It were easy to swell this catalogue of me- 
 teors with the names of many others, both in 
 our own climate and in other parts of the 
 world. Such as falling stars, which are 
 thought to be no more than unctuous vapours, 
 raised from the earth to small heights, and 
 continuing to shine till that matter which first 
 raised and supported them, being burnt out, 
 they fall back again to the earth, with ex- 
 tinguished flame. Burning spears, which are 
 a peculiar kind of aurora borealis; bloody 
 rains, which are said to be the excrements of 
 an insect, that at that time has been raised 
 into the air. Showers of stones, fishes, and 
 ivy-berries, at first, no doubt, raised into the 
 air by tempests in one country, and falling at 
 some considerable distance, in the manner of 
 rain, to astonish another. But omitting these, 
 of which we know little more than what is 
 thus briefly mentioned, I will conclude this 
 chapter with the description of a water-spout; 
 a most surprising phenomenon ; not less 
 dreadful to mariners, than astonishing to the 
 observer of nature. 
 
 These spouts are seen very commonly in 
 the tropical seas, and sometimes in our own. 
 Those seen by Tournefort, in the Mediterra- 
 nean, he has described as follows : " The 
 first of these," says this great botanist, " that 
 we saw, was about a musket-shot from our 
 ship. There we perceived the water began 
 to boil, and to rise about a foot above its 
 level. The water was agitated and whitish ; 
 and, above its surface, there seemed to stand 
 a smoke, such as might be imagined to come 
 from wet straw before it begins to blaze. It 
 
 made a sort of a murmuring sound, like that 
 of a torrent heart at a distance, mixed, at the 
 same time, with a hissing noise, like that of 
 a serpent: shortly after, we perceived a co- 
 lumn of this smoke rise up to the clouds, at 
 the same time whirling about with great rapi- 
 dity. It appeared to be as thick as one's fin- 
 ger; and the former sound still continued. 
 When this disappeared, after lasting forabout 
 eight minutes, upon turning to the opposite 
 quarter of the sky, we perceived another, 
 which began in the manner of the former ; 
 presently after, a third appeared in the west ; 
 and instantly beside it still another arose. 
 The most distant of these three could not be 
 above a musket-shot from the ship. They 
 all continued like so many heaps of wet straw 
 set on fire, that continued to smoke, and to 
 make the same noise as before. We soon 
 after perceived each, with its respective canal, 
 mounting up in the clouds, and spreading 
 where it touched ; the cloud, like the mouth 
 of a trumpet, making a figure, to express it 
 intelligibly, as if the tail of an animal were 
 pulled at one end by a weight. These canals 
 were of a whitish colour, and so tinged, as I 
 suppose, by the water which was contained 
 in them; for, previous to this, they were ap- 
 parently empty, and of the colour of transpa- 
 rent glass. These canals were not straight, 
 but bent in some parts, and far from being 
 perpendicular, but rising in their clouds with 
 a very inclined ascent. But what is very par- 
 ticular, the cloud to which one of them was 
 pointed happening to be driven by the wind, 
 the spout still continued to follow its motion, 
 without being broken ; and passing behind 
 one of the others, the spouts crossed each 
 other, in the form of a St. Andrew's cross. Iji 
 the beginning they were all about as thick aP 
 one's finger, except at the top, where they 
 were broader, and two of them disappeared ; 
 but shortly after, the last of the three increased 
 considerably; and its canal, which was at 
 first so small, soon became as thick as a man's 
 arm, then as his leg, and, at last, thicker than 
 his whole body. We saw distinctly, through 
 this transparent body, the water, which rose 
 up with a kind of spiral motion; and it some- 
 times diminished a little of its thickness, and 
 again resumed the same ; sometimes widen- 
 ing at top, and sometimes at bottom ; exactly 
 
THE EARTH 
 
 115 
 
 resembling a gut filled with water, pressed 
 with the fingers, to make the fluid rise, or fall ; 
 and I am well convinced that this alteration 
 in the spout w is caused by the wind, which 
 pressed the cloud, and impelled it to give up 
 its contents. After some time its bulk was 
 so diminished as to be no thicker than a man's 
 arm again ; and thus, swelling and diminishing, 
 it at last became very small. In the end, I 
 observed the sea which was raised about it 
 to resume its level by degrees, and the end 
 of the canal that touched it to become as 
 small as if it had been tied round with a cord ; 
 and this continued till the light, striking 
 through the cloud, took away the view. I 
 still, however, continued to look, expecting 
 that its parts would join again, as I had be- 
 fore seen in one of the others, in which the 
 spout was more than once broken, and yet 
 again came together ; but I was disappointed, 
 for the spout appeared no more." 
 
 Many have been the solutions offered for 
 this surprising appearance. Mr. Buffbn sup- 
 poses the spout, here described, to proceed 
 irorn the operation of fire, beneath the bed 
 of the sea ; as the waters at the surface are 
 thus seen agitated. However, the solution of 
 Dr. Stuart is not divested of probability ; who 
 thinks it may be accounted for by suction, as 
 in the application of a cupping-glass to the 
 skin. 
 
 Wherever spouts of this kind are seen, they 
 are extremely dreaded by mariners; for if 
 they happen to fall upon a ship, they most 
 commonly dash it to the bottom. But, if the 
 ship be large enough to sustain the deluge, 
 they are at least sure to destroy its sails and 
 rigging, and render it unfit for sailing. It i< 
 aid that vessels of any force usually fire their 
 guns at them, loaden with a bar of iron ; and 
 if so happy as to strike them, the water is 
 instantly seen to fall from them, with a dread- 
 ful noise, though without any farther mischief. 
 
 I am at a loss whether we ought to reckon 
 these spouts called typhous, winch are some- 
 times seen at land, of the same kind with those 
 so often described by mariners at sea, as they 
 seem to differ in several respects. That, for 
 instance, observed at Hatfield, in Yorkshire, 
 in 1687, as it is described by the person who 
 aw it, seems rather to have been a whirl- 
 wind than a water-spout The season in 
 
 MO. 11 & 12. 
 
 which it appeared was very dry, the weather 
 extremely hot, and the air very cloudy. After 
 the wind had blown for some time with con- 
 siderable force, and condensed the black 
 clouds one upon another, a great whirling of 
 the air ensued ; upon which the centre of the 
 clouds, every now and then, darted down in 
 the shape of a thick long black pipe; in 
 which the relator could distinctly view a mo- 
 tion, like that of a screw, continually screw- 
 ing up to itself, as it were, whatever it hap- 
 pened to touch. In its progress it moved 
 slowly over a grove of young trees, which it 
 violently bent in a circular motion. Going 
 forward to a barn, it in a minute stript it of 
 all the thatch, and filled the whole air with 
 the same. As it came near the relator, he 
 perceived that its blackness proceeded from 
 a gyration of the clouds, by contrary winds 
 meeting in a point, or a centre ; and where 
 the greatest force was exerted, there darting 
 down, like an Archimedes' screw, to suck 
 up all that came in its way. Another which 
 he saw, some time after, was attended with 
 still more terrible effects ; levelling or tear- 
 ing up great oak-trees, catching up the birds 
 in its vortex, and dashing them against the 
 ground. In this manner it proceeded with 
 an audible whirling noise, like that of a mill ; 
 and at length dissolved, after having done 
 much mischief. 
 
 But we must still continue to suspend our 
 assent as to the nature even of these land 
 spouts, since they have been sometimes found 
 to drop, in a great column of water, at once 
 upon the earth, and produce an instant inun- 
 dation," which could not readily have hap- 
 pened had they been caused by the gyration 
 of a whirlwind only. Indeed, every conjec- 
 ture regarding these meteors, seems to me 
 entirely unsatisfactory. They sometimes ap- 
 pear in the calmest weather at sea, of which 
 I have been an eye-witness ; and, therefore, 
 these are not caused by a whirlwind. They 
 are always capped bya cloud; and, therefore, 
 are not likely to proceed from fires at the 
 bottom. They change place ; and, therefore, 
 suction seems impracticable. In short, we 
 still want facts, upon which to build a ra- 
 tional theory ; and, instead of knowledge, we 
 
 Phil. Trans, vol. iv. p. 108. 
 2B 
 
116 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 must be contented with admiration. To be 
 well acquainted with the appearances of na- 
 ture, even though we are ignorant of their 
 causes, often constitutes the most useful 
 wisdom.* 
 
 [But among all the wonders that have late- 
 ly engaged the attention of the philosopher 
 and the chemist, is the circumstance, that 
 after the explosion of these luminous meteors, 
 heavy stones, varying in bulk and number, 
 have almost constantly fallen from them to 
 the earth. Credibility in a fact, for which 
 not even a conjectural cause in the remotest 
 degree probable could be assigned, was for 
 some time suspended : but the proofs are 
 now so numerous, and of such respectable 
 authority, that it can no longer be doubted. 
 
 In the year 1794, Dr. Chaldni published 
 a dissertation on this subject; and two years 
 afterwards Mr. King produced a still more 
 complete collection of examples, both ancient 
 and modern, many of them supported by 
 such evidence, that even scepticism could 
 no longer refuse its consent. Mr. Howard, 
 in the Philosophical Transactions for 1802, 
 published an admirable treatise, endeavour- 
 ing to throw all possible light upon a subject 
 BO singular and interesting. He not only col- 
 lected all the recent and well-authenticated 
 accounts of the fall of the stony bodies, and 
 examined the evidence of their truth, but pro- 
 cured specimens of the stones which were 
 said to have fallen in different places, com- 
 pared them together, and subjected them to 
 
 [ a Dr. Franklin supposes a water-spout and a whirlwind 
 to proceed from the same cause : a fluid moving from 
 all points horizontally towards a centre, must at that 
 centre either mount or descend. If a hole be opened in 
 the middle of the bottom of a tub filled with water, the 
 water will flow from all sides to the centre, and then de- 
 scend in a whirl : but the air flowing on or near the sur- 
 face of land or water, from all sides towards a centre, 
 must at that centre ascend, because the land or water will 
 hinder descent. 
 
 The lower region of the air is often more heated, and 
 o more rarefied, than the upper, and consequently spe- 
 cifically lighter : if therefore a large tract of land or sea, 
 unsheltered by clouds, and unrufiled by wind, become 
 violently heated and rarefied, so that the lower region 
 become lighter than the superincumbent upper one, the 
 heated lighter air will ascend like smoke up a chimney; 
 and as this rising cannot operate through the whole tract 
 at once, because that would leave too extensive a vacuum, 
 the rising will begin in that column which happens to be 
 most rarefied ; and the warm air will flow horizontally 
 
 chemical analysis. It may here be proper 
 to give a few of the more recent instances, 
 with the testimonies upon which they rest. 
 
 In July, 1794, about twelve stones fell near 
 Sienna in Tuscany, as related by the Earl of 
 Bristol. December 13, 1795, a large stone 
 of fifty-six pounds weight, fell at W old cot- 
 tage in Yorkshire, and is described by cap- 
 tain Topham. February 19, 1796, a stone of 
 ten pounds weight fell in Portugal, an account 
 of which is given by Mr. Southey. December 
 19, 1798, showers of stones fell at Benares in 
 the East Indies, upon the testimony of J.Lloyd 
 Williams, Esq. April 26, 1803, according toM. 
 Fourcroy, several stones, from ten to fourteen 
 pounds weight, fell near L'Aigle in Normandy. 
 
 In corrohoration of these facts, it appears, 
 that whether they have fallen in England, 
 France, Italy, Germany, or India, they are 
 all composed of the same ingredients, all re- 
 semble each other, and completely differ 
 from any other known stone. Sometimes the 
 stones continue luminous till they sink into 
 the earth, but most commonly their luminous- 
 ness disappears at the time of explosion: but 
 they are always found hot. Their size differs 
 from a few ounces to several tons ; they are 
 usually of a roundish form, and always co- 
 vered with a black crust. When broken they 
 appear of an ashy-gray colour, and of a gran- 
 ular texture, like a coarse sand-stone, and 
 have an earthy srnell. 
 
 A stone which fell in Yorkshire, deprived 
 as much as possible of its metallic particles, 
 
 from all parts of this column, where the several currents 
 meeting, a whirl or eddy is naturally formed, ascending 
 by a spiral motion, in the same manner as water descends 
 spirally through the hole in the tub. 
 
 If the vacuum passes over water, the water may rise 
 in a body or column to the height of about 32 feet ; and 
 this whirl of air may be as invisible as air itself. As the 
 whirl weakens, the tube may apparently separate in the 
 middle ; the column of water subsiding, the superior con- 
 densed part drawing up to the cloud. The tube or whirl 
 of air may nevertheless remain entire, the middle only 
 becoming invisible, as not containing any visible matter. 
 
 The author has, frequently, in a fine calm summer's 
 day, when the sun has been very hot, and the atmosphere 
 unrufiled by winds, seen sheaves of corn, hay-cocks, and 
 other moveable substances, suddenly lifted up with a cir- 
 cular motion, and carried to a considerable distance : and 
 in a blazing fire, where the (!ame and smoke are carried 
 up through a small chimney, if a piece of paper or other 
 very light substance be put into the flame, it will be lifted 
 up the chimney with a spiral motion.] 
 
THE EARTH. 
 
 117 
 
 according to Mr. Howard, produced from 
 one hundred and fifty grains, seventy-five of 
 siliceous earth, thirty-seven of magnesia, 
 forty-eight of oxyde, or calx of iron, and two 
 of oxyde, or calx of nickell ; leaving an ex- 
 cess from its original weight of twelve grains, 
 owing to the oxydation of the metallic bodies. 
 Various conjectures have been made, to 
 account for their appearance ; but such is the 
 obscurity of the subject, that no opinion in 
 the slightestdegree probable has yet been ad- 
 vanced. It was at first supposed, that they 
 had been thrown out of volcanoes, but the 
 immense distance from all volcanoes renders 
 this opinion of little value. Chaldni endea- 
 voured to prove, that the meteors from which 
 they fell, were bodies floating in space, un- 
 connected with any planetary system, at- 
 tracted by the earth in their progress, and 
 kindled by their rapid motion in the atmos- 
 phere. Laplace suggests the probability of 
 their having been thrown off by the volcanoes 
 
 of the moon ; but the meteors which almost 
 always accompany them, and the swiftness 
 of their horizontal motion, persuade us to re- 
 ject this opinion. Sir William Hamilton, 
 and Mr. King, with greater probability con- 
 sider them as concretions actually formed in 
 the atmosphere. 
 
 In addition to these, the showers of sulphur 
 which are related to have occasionally fallen, 
 and the vast masses of iron found in South 
 America, and Siberia, are supposed to have 
 their origin from the same causes : for it is a 
 singular coincidence, that these pieces of 
 iron contain nickell, which has never been 
 known to be present in real native iron. 
 
 Upon the whole, we can only look with 
 ignorant astonishment, and at present con- 
 sider these stony and metallic masses as frag- 
 ments of meteoric fire-balls, which have burst 
 in the atmosphere, the origin and causes of 
 which must be left to the accumulated wis- 
 dom and inquiry of future ages.] 
 
 CHAPTER XXn. 
 
 THE CONCLUSION. 
 
 HAVING thus gone through a particular 
 description of the earth, let us now pause for 
 a moment, to contemplate the great picture 
 before us. The universe may be considered 
 as the palace in which the Deity resides ; and 
 this earth as one of its apartments. In this, 
 all the meaner races of animated nature 
 mechanically obey him ; and stand ready to 
 execute his commands without hesitation. 
 Man alone is found refractory ; he is the only 
 being endued with a power of contradicting 
 these mandates. The Deity was pleased to 
 exert superior power in creating him a su- 
 perior being ; a being endued with a choice 
 of good and evil ; and capable, in some mea- 
 sure, of co-operating with his own intentions. 
 Man, therefore, may be considered as a 
 limited creature, endued with powers imita- 
 tive of those residing in the Deity. He is 
 thrown into a world that stands in need 
 of his help ; and has been granted a power 
 
 of producing harmony from partial confu- 
 
 sion. 
 
 If, therefore, we consider the earth as al- 
 lotted for our habitation, we shall find that 
 much has been given us to enjoy, and much 
 to amend ; that we have ample reasons for 
 our gratitude, and still more for our industry. 
 In those great outlines of nature, to which art 
 cannot reach, and where our greatest efforts 
 must have been ineffectual, God himself has 
 finished these with amazing grandeur and 
 beauty. Our beneficent Father has consi- 
 dered these parts of nature as peculiarly his 
 own ; as parts which no creature could have 
 skill or strength to amend: and, therefore, 
 made them incapable of alteration, or of more 
 perfect regularity. The heavens and the fir- 
 mament show the wisdom and the glory of 
 the Workman. Astronomers, who are best 
 skilled in the symmetry of systems, can find 
 nothing there that they can alter for the bet- 
 2 B* 
 
118 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 ter. God made these perfect, because no 
 subordinate being could correct their de- 
 fects. 
 
 When, therefore, we survey nature on this 
 .side, nothing can be more splendid, more cor- 
 rect, or amazing. We there behold a Deity 
 residing in the midst of an universe, infinitely 
 extended every way, animating all, and cheer- 
 ing the vacuity with his presence ! We behold 
 an immense and shapeless mass of matter, 
 formed into worlds by his power, and dis- 
 persed at intervals, to which even the imagi- 
 nation cannot travel ! In this great theatre of 
 his glory, a thousand suns, like our own, ani- 
 mate their respective systems, appearing and 
 vanishing at divine command. We behold 
 our own bright luminary, fixed in the centre 
 of its system, wheeling its planets in times 
 proportioned to their distances, and at once 
 dispensing light, heat, and action. The earth 
 also is seen with its twofold motion; pro- 
 ducing, by the one, the change of seasons; 
 and, by the other, the grateful vicissitudes 
 of day and night. With what silent mag- 
 nificence is all this performed ! with what 
 Beeming ease ! The works of art are exerted 
 with interrupted force ; and their noisy pro- 
 gress discovers the obstructions they receive: 
 but the earth, with a silent steady rotation, 
 successively presents every part of its bosom 
 to the sun; at once imbibing nourishment 
 and light from that parent of vegetation and 
 fertility. 
 
 But not only provisions of heat and light 
 are thus supplied, but its whole surface is 
 covered with a transparent atmosphere, that 
 turns with its motion, and guards it from ex- 
 ternal injury. The rays of the sun are thus 
 broken into a genial warmth ; and, while the 
 surface is assisted, a gentle heat is produced 
 in the bowels of the earth, which contributes 
 to cover it with verdure. Waters also are 
 supplied in healthful abundance, to support 
 life, and assist vegetation. Mountains arise, 
 to diversify the prospect, and give a current 
 to the stream. Seas extend from one conti- 
 nent to the other, replenished with animals 
 that may be turned to human support; and 
 also serving to enrich the earth with a suf- 
 
 ficiency of vapour. Breezes fly along the 
 surface of the nVlds, to promote health and 
 vegetation. The coolness of the evening in- 
 vites to rest; and the freshness of the morn- 
 ing renews for labour. 
 
 Such are the delights of the habitation that 
 has been assigned to man ; without any one 
 of these, he must have been wretched ; and 
 none of these could his own industry have 
 supplied. But while many of his wants are 
 thus kindly furnished on the one hand, there 
 are numberless inconveniences to excite his 
 industry on the other. This habitation, 
 though provided with all the conveniences 
 of air, pasturage, and water, is but a desert 
 place, without human cultivation. The lowest 
 animal finds more conveniences in the wilds 
 of nature than he who boasts himself their 
 lord. The whirlwind, the inundation, and 
 all the asperities of the air, are peculiarly 
 terrible to man, who knows their conse- 
 quences, and, at a distance, dreads their ap- 
 proach. The earth itself, where human art 
 has not pervaded, puts on a frightful gloomy 
 appearance. The forests are dark and tang- 
 led; the meadows overgrown with rank weeds; 
 and the brooks stray without a determined 
 channel. Nature, that has been kind to every 
 lower order of beings, has been quite neg- 
 lectful with regard to him ; to the savage 
 uncontriving man the earth is an abode of 
 desolation, where his shelter is insufficient, 
 and his food precarious. 
 
 A world thus furnished with advantages ou 
 one side, and inconveniences on the other, is 
 the proper abode of reason, is the fittest to 
 exercise the industry of a free and a thinking 
 creature. These evils, which art can re- 
 medy, and prescience guard against, are a 
 proper call for the exertion of his faculties; 
 and they tend still more to assimilate him to 
 his Creator. God beholds with pleasure that 
 being which he has made, converting the 
 wretchedness of his natural situation into a 
 theatre of triumph ; bringing all the headlong 
 tribes of nature into subjection to his will; 
 and producing that order and uniformity upon 
 earth, of which his own heavenly fabric is BO 
 bright an example. 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 119 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 A COMPARISON OF ANIMALS WITH THE INFERIOR RANKS OF CREATION. 
 
 HAVING given an account of the earth 
 in general, and the advantages and incon- 
 veniences with which it abounds, we now 
 come to consider it more minutely. Having 
 described the habitation, we are naturally 
 led to i '.quire alter the inhabitants. Amidst 
 the infinitely different productions which the 
 earth offers, and with which it is every where 
 covered, animals hold the first rank ; as well 
 because of the liner formation of their parts, 
 as of their superior power. The vegetable, 
 which is fixed to one spot, and obliged to wait 
 for its accidental supplies of nourishment, 
 may be considered as the prisoner of nature. 
 Unable to correct the disadvantages of its si- 
 tuation, or to shield itself from the dangers 
 that surround it, every object that has motion 
 may be its destroyer. 
 
 But animals are endowed with powers of 
 motion and defence. The greatest part are 
 capable, by changing place, of commanding 
 nature; and of thus obliging her to furnish 
 that nourishment which is most agreeable to 
 their state. Those few that are fixed to one 
 spot, even in this seemingly helpless situation, 
 are, nevertheless, protected from external in- 
 jury by a hard shelly covering ; which they 
 often can close at pleasure, and thus defend 
 themselves from every assault. And here, 
 I think, we may draw the line between the 
 animal and vegetable kingdoms. Every ani- 
 mal, by some means or other, finds protec- 
 tion from injury; either from its force, or cou- 
 rage, its swiftness, or cunning. Some are pro- 
 tected by hiding in convenient plac-s ; and 
 others by taking refuge in a hard resisting 
 shell. But vegetables are totally unprotect- 
 ed ; they are exposed to every assailant, and 
 
 patiently submissive in every attack. In a 
 word, an animal is an organized being, thai 
 is in some measure provided for its own secu- 
 rity ; a vegetable is destitute of every protec- 
 tion. 
 
 But though it is very easy, without the 
 help of definitions, to distinguish a plant from 
 an animal, yet both possess many properties 
 so much alike, that the two kingdoms, as they 
 are called, seemed mixed with each other. 
 Hence, it frequently puzzles the naturalist to 
 tell exactly where animal life begins, and vege- 
 tative terminates; nor, indeed, is it easy to re- 
 solve, whether some objects offered to view be 
 of the lowest of the animal, or the highest of the 
 vegetable races. The sensitive plant, that 
 moves at the touch, seems to have as much 
 perception as the fresh-water polypus, that is 
 possessed of a still slower share of motion. 
 Besides, the sensitive plant will not repro- 
 duce upon cutting in pieces, which the poly- 
 pus is known to do; so that the vegetable 
 production seems to have the superiority. 
 But, notwithstanding this, the polypus hunts 
 for its food, as most other animals do. It 
 changes its situation ; and, therefore, pos- 
 sesses a power of choosing its food, or retreat- 
 ing from danger. Still, therefore, the animal 
 kingdom is far removed above the vegetable; 
 and its lowest denizen is possessed of very 
 great privileges, when compared with the 
 plants with which it is often surrounded. 
 
 However, both classes have many resem- 
 blances, by which they are raised above the 
 unorganized and inert masses of nature. Mi- 
 nerals are mere inactive, insensible bodies, 
 entirely motionless of themselves, and wait- 
 ing some external force to alter their forms, 
 
120 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 or their properties. But it is otherwise with 
 animals and vegetables ; these are endued 
 with life and vigour : they have their state of 
 improvement and decay ; they are capable 
 of reproducing their kinds ; they grow from 
 seeds in some, and from cuttings in others ; 
 they seem all possessed of sensation, in a 
 greater or less degree ; they both have their 
 enmities and affections ; and, as some animals 
 are, by nature, impelled to violence, so some 
 plants are found to exterminate all others, 
 and make a wilderness of the places round 
 them. As the lion makes a desert of the 
 forest where it resides, thus no other plant 
 will grow under the shade of the manchineel- 
 tree. Thus, also, that plant, in the West 
 Indies, called caraguata, clings round what- 
 ever tree it happens to approach : there it 
 quickly gains the ascendant; and, loading 
 the tree with a verdure not its own, keeps 
 away that nourishment designed to feed the 
 trunk; and, at last, entirely destroys its sup- 
 porter. As all animals are ultimately sup- 
 ported upon vegetables, so vegetables are 
 greatly propagated, by being made a part of 
 animal food. Birds distribute the seeds wher- 
 ever they fly, and quadrupeds prune them 
 into greater luxuriance. By these means the 
 quantity of food, in a state of nature, is kept 
 equal to the number of the consumers ; and, 
 lest some of the weaker ranks of animals 
 should find nothing for their support, but all 
 the provisions be devoured by the strong, 
 different vegetables are appropriated to dif- 
 ferent appetites. If, transgressing this rule, 
 the stronger ranks should invade the rights 
 of the weak, and, breaking through all regard 
 to appetite, should make an indiscriminate 
 use of every vegetable, nature then punishes 
 the transgression, and poison marks the crime 
 as capital. 
 
 If, again, we compare vegetables and ani- 
 mals, with respect to the places where they 
 are found, we shall find them bearing a still 
 stronger similitude. The vegetables that grow 
 in a dry and sunny soil, are strong and vigo- 
 rous, though not luxuriant ; so, also, are the 
 animals of such a climate. Those, on the 
 contrary, that are the joint product of heat 
 and moisture, are luxuriant and tender ; and 
 the animals assimilating to the vegetable food, 
 on which they ultimately subsist, are much 
 
 larger in such places than in others. Thus, 
 in the internal parts of South America and 
 Africa, where the sun usually scorches all 
 above, while inundations cover all below, the 
 insects, reptiles, and other animals, grow to 
 a prodigious size: the earth-worm of America 
 is often a yard in length, and as thick as a 
 walking cane; the boiguacu, which is the 
 largest of the serpent kind, is sometimes forty 
 feet in length; the bats, in those countries, 
 are as big as a rabbit ; the toads are bigger 
 than a duck ; and their spiders are as large 
 as a sparrow. On the contrary, in the cold 
 frozen regions of the north, where vegetable 
 nature is stinted of its growth, the few ani- 
 mals in those climates partake of the diminu- 
 tion ; all the wild animals, except the bear, 
 are much smaller than in milder countries ; 
 and such of the domestic kinds as are car- 
 ried thither, quickly degenerate, and grow, 
 less. Their very insects are of the minute 
 kinds, their bees and spiders being not half 
 so large as those in the temperate zone. 
 
 The similitude between vegetables and 
 animals is no where more obvious than in 
 those that belong to the ocean, where the 
 nature of one is admirably adapted to 
 the necessities of the other. This element, 
 it is well known, has its vegetables, and its 
 insects that feed upon them in great abun- 
 dance. Over many tracts of the sea, a weed 
 is seen floating, which covers the surface, and 
 gives the resemblance of a green and exten- 
 sive meadow. On the under side of these 
 unstable plants, millions of little animals are 
 found, adapted to their situation. For, aa 
 their ground, if I may so express it, lies over 
 their heads, their feet are placed upon their 
 backs; and, as land animals have their legs 
 below their bodies, these have them above. 
 At land also, most animals are furnished with 
 eyes to see their food ; but at sea, almost all 
 the reptile kinds are without eyes, which 
 might only give them prospects of danger at 
 a time when unprovided with the means of 
 escaping it." 
 
 Thus, in all places, we perceive an ob- 
 vious similitude between the animals and the 
 vegetables of every region. In general, how- 
 ever, the most perfect races have the least 
 
 Linnrei Amccnitates, vol. v. p. 68. 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 121 
 
 similitude to the vegetable productions on 
 which they are ultimately fed; while, on the 
 contrary, the meaner the animal, the more 
 local it is found to be, and the more it is influ- 
 enced by the varieties of the soil where it 
 resides. Many of the more humble reptile 
 kinds are not only confined to one country, 
 but also to a plant ; nay, even to a leaf. Upon 
 that they subsist; increase with its vegeta- 
 tion, and seem to decay as it declines. They 
 are merely the circumscribed inhabitants of 
 a single vegetable : take them from that, and 
 they instantly die ; being entirely assimilat- 
 ed to the plant they feed on, assuming its co- 
 lour, and even its medicinal properties. For 
 this reason, there are infinite numbers of the 
 meaner animals that we have never an op- 
 portunity of seeing in this part of the world ; 
 they are incapable of living separate from 
 their kindred vegetables, which grow only in 
 a certain climate. 
 
 Such animals as are formed more perfect, 
 lead a life of less dependance; and some 
 kinds are found to subsist in many parts of 
 the world at the same time. But, of all the 
 races of animated nature, man is the least 
 affected by the soil where he resides, and 
 least influenced by the variations of vegeta- 
 ble sustenance : equally unaffected by the 
 luxuriance of the warm climates, or the steri- 
 lity of the poles, he has spread his habitations 
 over the whole earth ; and finds subsistence 
 as well amidst the ice of the north as the 
 burning deserts under the Line. All crea- 
 tures of an inferior nature, as has been said, 
 have peculiar propensities to peculiar cli- 
 mates ; they are circumscribed to zones, and 
 confined to territories, where their proper 
 food is found in the greatest abundance; but 
 man may be called the animal of every cli- 
 mate, and suffers but very gradual alterations 
 from the nature of any situation. 
 
 As to animals of a meaner rank, whom 
 man compels to attend him in his migrations, 
 these being obliged to live in a kind of con- 
 straint, and upon vegetable food, often differ- 
 ent from that of their native soil, they very 
 soon alter their natures with the nature of 
 their nourishment, assimilate to the vegeta- 
 bles upon which they are fed, and thus as- 
 sume very different habits as well as appear- 
 ances. Thus man, unaffected himself, alters 
 
 and directs the nature of other animals at his 
 pleasure ; increases their strength for his de- 
 light, or their patience for his necessities. 
 
 This power of altering the appearances of 
 things, seems to have been given him for very 
 wise purposes. The Deity, when he made 
 the earth, was willing to give his favoured 
 creature many opponents, that might at once 
 exercise his virtues, and call forth his latent 
 abilities. Hence we find, in those wide un- 
 cultivated wildernesses, where man, in his 
 savage state, owns inferior strength, and the 
 beasts claim divided dominion, that the 
 whole forest swarms with noxious animals 
 and vegetables ; animals, as yet undescri- 
 bed, and vegetables which want a name. 
 In those recesses, nature seems rather 
 lavish than magnificent in bestowing life. 
 The trees are usually of the largest kinds, 
 covered round with parasite plants, and 
 interwoven at the tops with each other. 
 The boughs, both above and below, are peo- 
 pled with various generations ; some of which 
 have never been upon the ground, and others 
 have neK.er stirred from the branches on 
 which they were produced. In this manner 
 millions of minute and loathsome creatures 
 pursue a round of uninterrupted existence,and 
 enjoy a life scarcely superior to vegetation. 
 At the same time, the vegetables in those 
 places are of the larger kinds, while the 
 animal race is of the smaller : but man has al- 
 tered this disposition of nature ; having, in a 
 great measure, levelled the extensive forests, 
 cultivated the softer and finer vegetables, de- 
 stroyed the numberless tribes of minute and 
 noxious animals, and taken every method to 
 increase a numerous breed of the larger 
 kinds. He thus has exercised a severe con- 
 trol ; unpeopled nature, to embellish it ; and 
 diminished the size of the vegetable, in or- 
 der to improve that of the animal kingdom. 
 
 To subdue the earth to his own use was, 
 and ought to be, the aim of man ; which was 
 only to be done by increasing the number of 
 plants, and diminishing that of animals : to 
 multiply existence, alone was that of the 
 Deity. For this reason, we find, in a state of 
 nature, that animal life is increased to the 
 greatest quantity possible; and, we can 
 scarcely form a system that could add to its 
 numbers. First, plants or trees are pro- 
 
122 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 vided by nature, of the largest kinds ; and, 
 consequently, the nourishing surface is thus 
 extended. In the second place, there are 
 animals peculiar to every part of the vegeta- 
 ble, so that no part of it is lost. But the 
 greatest possible increase of life would still 
 be deficient, were there not other animals 
 that lived upon animals; and these are, 
 themselves, in turn, food for some other 
 greater and stronger set of creatures. Were 
 all animals to live upon vegetables alone, 
 thousands would be extinct that now have 
 existence, as the quantity of their provision 
 would shortly fail. But, as things are wisely 
 constituted, one animal now supports ano- 
 ther ; and thus, all take up less room than 
 they would by living on the same food ; as, 
 to make use of a similar instance, a greater 
 number of people may be crowded into the 
 same space, if each is made to bear his fel- 
 low upon his shoulders. 
 
 To diminish the number of animals, and 
 increase that of vegetables, has been the ge- 
 neral scope of human industry ; and, if we 
 compare the utility of the kinds, with respect 
 to man, we shall find, that of the vast va- 
 riety in the animal kingdom, but very few are 
 serviceable to him ; and, in the vegetable, 
 but very few are entirely noxious. How small 
 a part of the insect tribes, for instance, are 
 beneficial to mankind, and what numbers 
 are injurious ! In some countries they almost 
 darken the air : a candle cannot be lighted 
 without their instantly flying upon it, and 
 putting out the flame." The closest recesses 
 are no safeguard from their annoyance ; and 
 the most beautiful landscapes of nature only 
 serve to invite their rapacity. As these are 
 injurious, from their multitudes, so most of 
 the larger kinds are equally dreadful to him, 
 from their courage and ferocity. In the most 
 uncultivated parts of the forest these main- 
 tain an undisputed empire ; and man invades 
 
 Ulloa's Description of Guayaquil. 
 
 their retreats with terror. These are dread- 
 ful; and there are still more which are utter- 
 ly useless to him, that serve to take up the 
 room which more beneficial creatures might 
 possess; and incommode him, rather with 
 their numbers than their enmities. Thus, in 
 a catalogue of land-animals, that amounts to 
 more than twenty thousand, we can scarcely 
 reckon up a hundred that are any way use- 
 ful to him ; the rest being either all his open 
 or his secret enemies, immediately attacking 
 him in person, or intruding upon that food he 
 has appropriated to himself. Vegetables, on 
 the contrary, though existing in greater vari- 
 ety, are but few of them noxious. The most 
 deadly poisons are often of great use in me- 
 dicine ; and even those plants that only seern 
 to cumber the ground, serve for food to that 
 race of animals which he has taken into 
 friendship or protection. The smaller tribes 
 of vegetables, in particular, are cultivated, 
 as contributing either to his necessities or 
 amusement ; so that vegetable life is as much 
 promoted by human industry, as animal life 
 is controlled and diminished. 
 
 Hence it was not without a long struggle, 
 and various combinations of experience and 
 art, that man acquired his present dominion. 
 Almost every good that he possesses was the 
 result of the contest ; for, every day, as he 
 was contending, he was growing more wise; 
 and patience and fortitude were the fruits of 
 his industry. 
 
 Hence, also, we see the necessity of some 
 animals living upon each other, to fill up the 
 plan of Providence ; and we may, conse- 
 quently, infer the expediency of man's living 
 upon all. Both animals and vegetables seem 
 equally fitted to his appetites ; and were any 
 religious or moral motives to restrain him 
 from taking away life, upon any account, he 
 would only thus give existence to a variety 
 of beings made to prey upon each other; 
 and, instead of preventing, multiply mutual 
 destruction. 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 123 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 OF THE GENERATION OF ANIMALS. 
 
 BEFORE we survey animals in their state 
 of maturity, and performing the functions 
 adapted 10 their respective natures, method 
 requires that we should consider them in the 
 more early periods of their existence. There 
 has been a time when the proudest and the 
 noblest animul was a partaker of the same 
 imbecility with the meanest reptile; and, 
 while yet a candidate for existence, equally 
 helpless and contemptible. In their inci- 
 pient state, all are upon a footing ; the insect 
 and the philosopher being equally insensible, 
 clogged with matter, and unconscious of ex- 
 istence. Where then are we to begin with 
 the history of those beings, that make such 
 a distinguished figure in the creation ? Or, 
 where lie those peculiar characters in the 
 parts that go to make up animated nature 
 that mark one animal as destined to creep in 
 the dust, and another to glitter on the throne ? 
 This has been a subject that has employ- 
 ed the curiosity of all ages, and the philoso- 
 phers of every age have attempted the so- 
 lution. In tracing nature to her most hidden 
 recesses, she becomes too minute or obscure 
 for our inspection ; so that we find it impos- 
 sible to mark her first differences, to discover 
 the point where animal life begins, or the 
 cause that conduces to set it in motion. We 
 know little more than that the greatest num- 
 ber of animals require the concurrence of a 
 male arid female to reproduce their kind ; 
 and that these, distinctly and invariably, are 
 found to beget creatures of their own species. 
 Curiosity has, therefore, been active in try- 
 ing to discover the immediate result of this 
 union ; how far either sex contributes to the 
 bestowing animal life, and whether it be to 
 the male or female that we are most indebt- 
 ed for the privilege of our existence. 
 
 Hippocrates has supposed that fecundity 
 proceeded from the mixture of the seminal 
 liquor of both sexes, each of which equally 
 contributes to the formation of the incipient 
 animal. Aristotle, on the other hand, would 
 
 have the seminal liquor in the male alone to 
 contribute to this purpose, while the female 
 supplied the proper nourishment for its sup- 
 port. Such were the opinions of these fa- 
 thers of philosophy ; and these continued to 
 be adopted by the naturalists and schoolmen 
 of succeeding ages, with blind veneration. 
 At length, Steno and Harvey, taking anatomy 
 for their guide, gave mankind a nearer view 
 of nature just advancing into animation. 
 These perceived, in all such animals as pro- 
 duced their young alive, two glandular bo- 
 dies, near the womb, resembling that ovary, 
 or cluster of small eggs, which is found in 
 fowls ; and from the analogy between both, 
 they gave these also the name of ovaria. 
 These, as they resembled eggs, they natural- 
 ly concluded had the same offices ; and, 
 therefore, they were induced to think that all 
 animals, of what kind soever, were produced 
 from eggs. At first, however, there was some 
 altercation raised against this system : for, 
 as these ovaria were separate from the womb, 
 it was objected that they could not be any 
 way instrumental in replenishing that organ, 
 with which they did not communicate. But, 
 upon more minute inspection, Fallopius, the 
 anatomist, perceived two tubular vessels 
 depending from the womb, which, liku the 
 horns of a snail, had a power of erecting 
 themselves, of embracing the ovaria, and of 
 receiving the eggs, in order to be fecundated 
 by the seminal liquor. This discovery seem- 
 ed, for a long time after, to fix the opinions 
 of philosophers. The doctrine of Hippocrates 
 was re-established, and the chief business of 
 generation was ascribed to the female. This 
 was for a long time the established opinion 
 of the schools; but Leuwenhoeck, once 
 more, shook the whole system, and produced 
 a new schism among the lovers of specula- 
 tion. Upon examining the seminal liquor of 
 a great variety of male animals with mi- 
 croscopes, which helped his sight more than 
 that of any of his successors, he perceived 
 2C 
 
121 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 therein infinite numbers of little living crea- 
 tures, like tadpoles, very brisk, and floating 
 in the fluid with a seeming voluntary motion. 
 Each of these, therefore, was thought to be 
 the rudiments of an animal, similar to that 
 from which it was produced ; and this only 
 required a reception from the female, toge- 
 ther with proper nourishment, to complete 
 its growth. The business of generation was 
 now, therefore, given back to the male a se- 
 cond time, by many; while others suspended 
 their assent, and chose rather to confess ig- 
 norance than to embrace error.* 
 
 In this manner has the dispute continued 
 for several ages, some accidental discovery 
 serving, at intervals, to renew the debate, 
 and revive curiosity. It was a subject where 
 speculation could find much room to display 
 itself; and Mr. Buffon, who loved to specu- 
 late, would not omit such an opportunity of 
 giving scope to his propensity. According to 
 this most pleasing of all naturalists, the mi- 
 croscope discovers that the seminal liquor, not 
 only ot males, but of females also, abounds 
 in these moving little animals, which have 
 been mentioned above, and that they appear 
 equally brisk in either fluid. These he takes 
 not to be real animals, but organical parti- 
 cles, which, being simple, cannot be said to 
 be organized themselves, but go to the com- 
 position of all organized bodies whatsoever; 
 in the same manner as a tooth, in the wheel 
 of a watch, cannot be called either the wheel 
 or the watch, and yet contributes to the sum 
 of the machine. These organical particles 
 are, according to him, diffused throughout all 
 nature, and to be found not only in the semi- 
 nal liquor, but in most other fluids in the 
 parts of vegetables, and all parts of animated 
 nature. As they happen, therefore, to be dif- 
 ferently applied, they serve to constitute a 
 part of the animal, or the vegetable, whose 
 growth they serve to increase, while the su- 
 perfluity is thrown off* in the seminal liquor 
 of both sexes, for the reproduction of other 
 animals or vegetables of the same species. 
 These particles assume different figures, ac- 
 cording to the receptacle into which they 
 enter ; falling into the womb, they unite into 
 a fostus ; beneath the bark of a tree they pul- 
 
 Bonnet Considerations sui les Corps Organises. 
 
 lulate into branches; and, in short, the same 
 particles that first formed the animal in the 
 womb, contribute to increase its growth when 
 brought forth.' 1 
 
 To this system it has been objected, that 
 it is impossible to conceive organical sub- 
 stances without being organized ; and that, 
 if divested of organization themselves, they 
 could never make an organized body, as an 
 infinity of circles could never make a trian- 
 gle. It has been objected, that it is more 
 difficult to conceive the transformation of 
 these organical particles, than even that of 
 the animal, whose growth we are inquiring 
 after ; and this system, therefore, attempts to 
 explain one obscure thing by another still 
 more obscure. 
 
 But an objection, still stronger than these t 
 has been advanced by an ingenious coun- 
 tryman of our own ; who asserts, that these 
 little animals, which thus appear swimming 
 and sporting in almost every fluid we exa- 
 mine with a microscope, are not real living 
 particles, but some of the more opaque parts 
 of the fluid, that are thus increased in size, 
 and seem to have a much greater motion 
 than they have in reality. For the motion 
 being magnified with the object, the smallest 
 degree of it will seem very considerable; 
 and a being almost at rest may, by these 
 means, be apparently put into violent action. 
 Thus, for instance, if we look upon the sails 
 of a windmill moving at a distance, they ap- 
 pear to go very slow ; but, if we approach 
 them, and thus magnify their bulk to our eye, 
 they go round with great rapidity. A micro- 
 scope, in the same manner, serves to bring 
 our eye close to the object, and thus to en- 
 large it; and not only increase the magni- 
 tude of its parts, but of its motion. Hence, 
 therefore, it would follow, that these organi- 
 cal particles, that are said to constitute the 
 bulk of living nature, are but mere optical 
 illusions ; and the system founded on them 
 must, like them, be illusive. 
 
 These, and many other objections, have 
 been made to this system ; which, instead of 
 enlightening the mind, serve only to show, 
 that too close a pursuit of nature very often 
 leads to uncertainty. Happily, however, for 
 
 b Mr. Buffon. 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 125 
 
 mankind, the most intricate inquiries are ge- 
 nerally the most useless. Instead, therefore, of 
 balancing accounts between the sexes, and at- 
 tempting to ascertain to which the business of 
 generation most properly belongs, it will be 
 more instructive, as well as amusing, to begin 
 with animal nature, from its earliest retire- 
 ments, and evanescent outlines, and pursue 
 the incipient creature through all its changes 
 in the womb, till it arrives into open day. 
 
 The usual distinction of animals, with re- 
 spect to their manner of generation, has been 
 into the oviparous and viviparous kinds; or, 
 in other words, into those that bring forth an 
 egg, which is afterwards hatched into life, 
 and those that bring forth their young alive 
 and perfect. In one of these two ways all 
 animals were supposed to have been pro- 
 duced, and all other kinds of generation were 
 supposed imaginary or erroneous. But later 
 discoveries have taught us to be more cau- 
 tious in making general conclusions, and 
 have even induced many to doubt whether 
 animal life may not be produced merely 
 from putrefaction.' 
 
 Indeed, the infinite number of creatures 
 that putrid substances seem to give birth to, 
 and the variety of little insects seen floating 
 in liquors, by the microscope, appear to fa- 
 vour this opinion. But, however this may be, 
 the former method of classing animals can 
 now by no means be admitted, as we find 
 many animals that are produced neither from 
 the womb, nor from the shell, but merely 
 from cuttings ; so that to multiply life in some 
 creatures, it is sufficient only to multiply the 
 dissection. This being the simplest method 
 of generation, and that in which life seems to 
 require the smallest preparation for its exist- 
 tence, I will begin with it, and so proceed to 
 the two other kinds, from the meanest to 
 the most elaborate. 
 
 The earth-worm, the millepedes, the sea- 
 worm, and many marine insects, may be mul- 
 tiplied by being cut in pieces ; but the poly- 
 pus is noted for its amazing fertility; and 
 from hence it will be proper to take the de- 
 scription. The structure of the polypus may 
 be compared to the finger of a glove, open 
 at one end, and closed at the other. The 
 
 Bonnet Consid. p. 100. 
 
 closed end represents the tail of the polypus, 
 with which it serves to fix itself to any sub- 
 stance it happens to be upon ; the open end 
 may be compared to the mouth ; and, if we 
 conceive six or eight small strings issuing 
 from this end, we shall have a proper idea 
 of its arms, which it can erect, lengthen, and 
 contract, at pleasure, like the horns of a snail. 
 This creature is very voracious, and makes 
 use of its arms as a fisherman does of his net, 
 to catch and entangle such little animals as 
 happen to come within its reach. It lengthens 
 these arms several inches, keeps them sepa- 
 rated from each other, and thus occupies a 
 large space in the water, in which it resides. 
 These arms, when extended, are as fine as 
 threads of silk, and have a most exquisite de- 
 gree of feeling. If a small worm happens to 
 get within the sphere of their activity, it is 
 quickly entangled by one of these arms, and, 
 soon after, the other arms come to its aid ; 
 these all together shortening, the worm is 
 drawn into the animal's mouth, and quickly 
 devoured, colouring the body as it is swal- 
 lowed. Thus much is necessary to be ob- 
 served of this animal's method of living, to 
 show that it is not of the vegetable tribe, but 
 a real animal, performing the functions which 
 other animals are found to perform, and en- 
 dued with powers that many of them are des- 
 titute of. But what is most extraordinary re- 
 mains yet to be told ; for, if examined with a 
 microscope, there are seen several little 
 specks, like buds, that seem to pullulate from 
 different parts of its body ; and these soon 
 after appear to be young polypi, and, like 
 the large polypus, begin to cast their little 
 arms about for prey, in the same manner. 
 Whatever they happen to ensnare is devour- 
 ed, and gives a colour not only to their own 
 bodies, but to that of the parent ; so that the 
 same food is digested, and serves for the 
 nourishment of both. The food of the little 
 one passes into the large polypus, and co- 
 lours its body ; and this, in its turn, digests, 
 and swallows its food to pass into theirs. In 
 this manner every polypus has a new colony 
 sprouting from its body ; and these new ones, 
 even while attached to the parent animal, 
 become parents themselves, having a smaller 
 colony also budding from them ; all, at the 
 same time, busily employed in seeking for 
 C* 
 
126 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 their prey, and the food of any one of them 
 serving for the nourishment, and circulating 
 through the bodies, of all the rest. This so- 
 ciety, however, is every hour dissolving; 
 those newly produced are seen at intervals 
 to leave the body of the large polypus, and 
 become, shortly after, the head of a begin- 
 ning colony themselves. 
 
 In this manner the polypus multiplies na- 
 turally; but one may take a much readier 
 and shorter way to increase them, and this 
 only by cutting them in pieces. Though cut 
 into thousands of parts, each part still retains 
 its vivacious qualities, and each shortly be- 
 comes a distinct and complete polypus; whe- 
 ther cut lengthways or crossways, it is all 
 the same : this extraordinary creature seems 
 a gainer by our endeavours, and multiplies 
 by apparent destruction. The experiment 
 haS been tried, times without number, and 
 still attended with the same success. Here, 
 therefore, naturalists, who have been blamed 
 for the cruelty of their experiments upon 
 living animals, maynow boast of their increas- 
 ing animal life, instead of destroying it. The 
 production of the polypus is a kind of philo- 
 sophical generation. The famous Sir Tho- 
 mas Brown hoped one day to be able to 
 produce children by the same method as 
 trees are produced : the polypus is multi- 
 plied in this manner; and every philosopher 
 may thus, if he please, boast of a very nume- 
 rous, though, I should suppose, a very useless 
 progeny. 
 
 This method of generation, from cuttings, 
 may be considered as the most simple kind, 
 and is a strong instance of the little pains 
 nature takes in the formation of her lower 
 and humbler productions. As the removal 
 of these from inanimate into animal existence 
 is but small, there are but few preparations 
 made for their journey. No organs of gene- 
 ration seem provided, no womb to receive, 
 no shell to protect them in their state of tran- 
 sition. The little reptile is quickly fitted for 
 all the offices of its humble sphere, and, in a 
 very short time, arrives at the height of its 
 contemptible perfection. 
 
 The next generation is of those animals 
 that we see produced from the egg. In this 
 manner all birds, most fishes, and many of the 
 insect tribes, are brought forth. An egg may 
 
 be considered as a womb, detached from the 
 body of the parent animal, in which the em- 
 bryo is but just beginning to be formed. It maj 
 be regarded as a kind of incomplete delivery, 
 in which the animal is disburdened of its 
 young before its perfect formation. Fishe* 
 and insects, indeed, most usually commit the 
 care of their eggs to hazard; but birds, 
 which are more perfectly formed, are found 
 to hatch them into maturity by the warmth 
 of their bodies. However, any other heat, 
 of the same temperature, would answer the 
 end as well; for either the warmth of the 
 sun, or of a stove, is equally efficacious in 
 bringing the animal in the egg to perfection. 
 In this respect, therefore, .we may consider 
 generation from the egg as inferior to that 
 in which the animal is brought forth alive. 
 Nature has taken care of the viviparous ani- 
 mal in every stage of its existence. That 
 force which separates it from the parent, se- 
 parates it from life ; and the embryo is shield- 
 ed with unceasing protection till it arrives 
 at exclusion. But it is different with the lit- 
 tle animal in the egg ; often totally neglected 
 by the parent, and always separable from it, 
 every accident may retard ita growth, or even 
 destroy its existence. Besides, art or acci- 
 dent, also, may bring this animal to a state 
 of perfection ; so that it can never be consi- 
 dered as a complete work of nature, in which 
 so much is left for accident to finish or de- 
 stroy. 
 
 But, however inferior this kind of genera- 
 tion may be, the observation of it will afford 
 great insight into that of nobler animals, as 
 we can here watch the progress of the grow- 
 ing embryo in every period of its existence, 
 and catch it in those very moments when it 
 first seems stealing into motion. Malpighi 
 and Haller have been particularly indus- 
 trious on this subject; and, with a patience 
 almost equalling that of the sitting hen, have 
 attended incubation in all its stages. From 
 them, therefore, we have an amazing history 
 of the chicken in the egg, and of its advances 
 into complete formation. 
 
 It would be methodically tedious to de- 
 scribe those parts of the egg which are well 
 known, and obvious ; such as its shell, its 
 white, and its yolk; but the disposition of , 
 these is not so apparent. Immediately under 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 127 
 
 the shell lies that common membrane, or 
 skin, which lines it on the inside, adhering 
 closely to it every where, except at the broad 
 end, where a little cavity is left, that is filled 
 with air, which increases as the animal with- 
 in grows larger. Under this membrane are 
 contained two whites, though seeming to us 
 to be only one, each wrapped up in a mem- 
 brane of its own, one white within the other. 
 In the midst of all is the yolk, wrapped round 
 likewise in its own membrane. At each end 
 of this are two ligaments, called chalazae, 
 which are, as it were, the poles of this micro- 
 cosm, being white dense substances, made 
 from the membranes, and serving to keep the 
 white and the yolk in their places. It was 
 the opinion of Mr. Derham, that they served 
 also for another purpose ; for a line being 
 drawn from one ligament to the other, would 
 not pass directly through the middle of the 
 yolk, but rather towards one side, and would 
 divide the yolk into two unequal parts, by 
 which means these ligaments served to keep 
 the smallest side of the yolk always upper- 
 most ; and in this part he supposed the cica- 
 tricula, or first speck of life, to reside ; which, 
 by being uppermost, and consequently next 
 the hen, would be thus in the warmest situ- 
 ation. But this is rather fanciful than true, 
 the incipient animal being found in all situa- 
 tions, and not particularly influenced by 
 any.* The cicatricula, which is the part 
 where the animal first begins to show signs 
 of life, is not unlike a vetch, or a lentil, lying 
 on one side of the yolk, and within its mem- 
 brane. All these contribute to the little ani- 
 mal's convenience or support; the outer 
 membranes and ligaments, preserve the fluids 
 in their proper places ; the white serves as 
 nourishment ; and the yolk, with its mem- 
 branes, after a time, becomes a part of the 
 animal's body. b This is the description of a 
 hen's egg, and answers to that of all others, 
 how large or how small soever. 
 
 Previous to putting the eggs to the hen, 
 our philosophers first examined the cicatri- 
 cula, or little spot, already mentioned ; and 
 which may be considered as the most im- 
 portant part of the egg. This was found, in 
 those that were impregnated by the cock, to 
 
 Mailer. 
 
 b Ibid. 
 
 be large ; but in those laid without the cock, 
 very small. It was found by the microscope, 
 to be a kind of bag, containing a transparent 
 liquor, in the midst of which the embryo was 
 seen to reside. The embryo resembled a 
 composition of little threads, which the 
 warmth of future incubation tended to en- 
 large, by varying and liquefying the other 
 fluids contained within the shell, and thus 
 pressing them either into the pores or tubes 
 of their substance. 
 
 Upon placing the eggs in a proper warmth, c 
 either under the sun, or in a stove, after six 
 hours the vital speck begins to dilate, like the 
 pupil of the eye. The head of the chicken 
 is distinctly seen, with the back-bone, some- 
 thing resembling a tadpole, floating in its am- 
 bient fluid, but as yet seeming to assume 
 none of the functions of animal life. In about 
 six hours more the little animal is seen more 
 distinctly ; the head becomes more plainly 
 visible, and the vertebrae of the back more 
 easily perceivable. All these signs of prepa- 
 ration for life are increased in six hours more : 
 and, at the end of twenty-four hours, the ribs 
 begin to take their places, the neck begins 
 to lengthen, and the head to turn to one side. 
 
 At this time, d also, the fluids in the egg 
 seem to have changed place ; the yolk, which 
 was before in the centre of the shell, ap- 
 proaches nearer to the broad end. The wa- 
 tery part of the white is, in some measure, 
 evaporated through the shell, and the grosser 
 part sinks to the small end. The little animal 
 appears to turn towards the part of the broad 
 end, in which a cavity has been described, 
 and with its yolk seems to adhere to the 
 membrane there. At the end of forty hours 
 the great work of life seems fairly begun, and 
 the animal plainly appears to move; the 
 back-bone, which is of a whitish colour, 
 thickens ; the head is turned still more on one 
 side ; the first rudiments of the eyes begin to 
 appear, the heart beats, and the blood begins 
 already to circulate. The parts, however, as 
 yet are fluid ; but, by degrees, become more 
 and more tenacious, and harden into a kind 
 of jelly. At the end of two days, the liquor, in 
 which the chicken swims, seems to increase ; 
 the head appears with two little bladders in 
 
 Malpighi. 
 
 Harvey. 
 
128 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 the place of eyes ; the heart beats in the man- 
 ner of every embryo where the blood does not 
 circulate through the lungs. In about four- 
 teen hours after this, the chicken is grown 
 more strong; its head, however, is still bent 
 downwards ; the veins and arteries begin to 
 branch, in order to form the brain ; and the 
 spinal marrow is seen stretching along the 
 back-bone. In three days, the whole body of 
 the chicken appears bent ; the head, with its 
 two eye-balls, with their different humours, 
 now distinctly appear ; and five other vesicles 
 are seen, which soon unite to form the rudi- 
 ments of the brain. The outlines also of the 
 thighs and wings begin to be seen, and the 
 body begins to gather flesh. At the end of the 
 fourth day, the vesicles that go to form the 
 brain approach each other; the wings and 
 thighs appear more solid ; the whole body is 
 covered with a jelly-like flesh; the heart, that 
 was hitherto exposed, is now covered up with- 
 in the body, by a very thin transparent mem- 
 brane ; and, at the same time, the umbilical 
 vessels, that unite the animal to the yolk, now 
 appear to come forth from the abdomen. 
 After the fifth and sixth days, the vessels of 
 the brain begin to be covered over; the wings 
 and thighs lengthen ; the belly is closed up, 
 and tumid ; the liver is seen within it, very 
 distinctly, not yet grown red, but of a very 
 dusky white ; both the ventricles of the heart 
 are discerned, as if they were two separate 
 hearts, beating distinctly ; the whole body of 
 the animal is covered over ; and the traces of 
 the incipient feathers are already to be seen. 
 The seventh day, the head appears very large; 
 the brain is covered entirely over ; the bill 
 begins to appear betwixt the eyes ; and the 
 wings, the thighs, and the legs, have acquired 
 their perfect figure.' Hitherto, however, the 
 animal appears as if it had two bodies ; the 
 yolk is joined to it by the umbilical vessels 
 that come from the belly ; and is furnished 
 with its vessels, through which the blood cir- 
 culates, as through the rest of the body of the 
 chicken, making a bulk greater than that of 
 the animal itself. But towards the end of in- 
 cubation, the umbilical vessels shorten the 
 yolk, and with it the intestines are thrust up 
 into the body of the chicken, by the action of 
 
 Halter. 
 
 the muscles of the belly ; and the two bodies 
 are thus formed into one. During this state, 
 all the organs are found to perform their se- 
 cretions ; the bile is ibund to be separated, 
 as in grown animals ; but it is fluid, transpa- 
 rent, and without bitterness : and the chicken 
 then also appears to have lungs. On the tenth, 
 the muscles of the wings appear, and the fea- 
 thers begin to push out. On the eleventh, 
 the heart, which hitherto had appeared di- 
 vided, begins to unite; the arteries which be- 
 long to it join into it, like the fingers into the 
 palm of the hand. All these appearances 
 only come more into view, because the fluids 
 the vessels had hitherto secreted were more 
 transparent; but as the colour of the fluids 
 deepen, their operations and circulations are 
 more distinctly seen. As the animal thus, by 
 the eleventh day completely formed, begins 
 to gather strength, it becomes more uneasy 
 in its situation, and exerts its animal powers 
 with increasing force. For some time before 
 it is able to break the shell in Avhich it is im- 
 prisoned, it is heard to chirrup, receiving a 
 sufficient quantity of air for this purpose, from 
 that cavity which lies between the membrane 
 and the shell, and which must contain air to 
 resist the external pressure. At length, upon 
 the twentieth day, in some birds sooner, and 
 later in others, the inclosed animal breaks the 
 shell within which it has been confined, with 
 its beak ; and, by repeated efforts, at last pro- 
 cures its enlargement. 
 
 From this little history we perceive, that 
 those parts which are most conducive to life, 
 are the first that are begun : the head, and 
 the back-bone, which no doubt inclose the 
 brain, and the spinal marrow, though both 
 are too limpid to be discerned, are the first 
 that are seen to exist: the beating of the 
 heart is perceived soon after : the less noble 
 parts seem to spring from these ; the wings, 
 the thighs, the feet, and, lastly, the bill. 
 Whatever, therefore, the animal has double, 
 or whatever it can live without the use of, 
 these are latest in production : Nature first 
 sedulously applying to the formation of the 
 nobler organs, without which life would be of 
 short continuance, and would be begun in vain. 
 
 The resemblance between the beginning 
 animal in the egg, and the embryo in the womb, 
 is very striking ; and this similitude has in- 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 129 
 
 <luced many to assert, that all animals are pro- 
 duced from eggs, in the same manner. They 
 consider an egg excluded from the body by 
 some, and separated into the womb by others, 
 to be actions merely of one kind ; with this 
 only d inference, that the nourishment of the 
 one is kept within the body of the parent, and 
 increases as the embryo happens to want the 
 supply ; the nourishment of the other is pre- 
 pared all at once, and sent out with the be- 
 ginning animal, as entirely sufficient for its 
 future support. But leaving this to the dis- 
 cussion of anatomists, let us proceed rather 
 with facts than dissertations ; and as we have 
 seen the progress of an oviparous animal, or 
 one produced from the shell, let us likewise 
 trace that of a viviparous animal, which is 
 brought forth alive. In this investigation, 
 Graaf has, with a degree of patience charac- 
 teristic of his nation, attended the progress 
 and increase of various animals in the womb, 
 and minutely marked the changes they un- 
 dergo. Having dissected a rabbit, half an 
 hour after impregnation, he perceived the 
 horns of the womb, that go to embrace and 
 communicate with the ovary, to be more red 
 than before ; but no other change in the rest 
 of the parts. Having dissected another, six 
 hours after, he perceived the follicules, or the 
 membrane covering the eggs contained in the 
 ovary, to become reddish. In a rabbit dis- 
 sected after twenty-four hours, he perceived, 
 in one of the ovaries, three follicules, and, in 
 the other, five, that were changed ; being be- 
 come, from transparent, dark and reddish. 
 In one dissected after three days, he per- 
 ceived the horns of the womb very strictly to 
 embrace the ovaries ; and he observed three 
 of the follicules in one of them, much longer 
 and harder than before : pursuing his inqui- 
 sition, he also found two of the eggs actually 
 separated into the horns of the womb, and 
 each about the size of a grain of mustard-seed; 
 these little eggs were each of them inclosed 
 in a double membrane, the inner parts being 
 filled with a very limpid liquor. After four 
 days, he found, in one of the ovaries, four, and 
 in the other, five fbllicules, emptied of their 
 eggs: and in the horns correspondent to these, 
 he found an equal number of eggs thus sepa- 
 rated: these eggs were now grown larger than 
 before, and somewhat of the size of sparrow- 
 
 shot. In five days, the eggs were grown to 
 the size of duck-shot, and could be blown 
 from the part of the womb where they were, 
 by the breath. In seven days, these eggs 
 were found of the size of a pistol-bullet, each 
 covered with its double membrane, and these 
 much more distinct than before. In nine days, 
 having examined the liquor contained in one 
 of these eggs, he found it, from a limpid colour, 
 less fluid, to have got a light cloud floating 
 upon it. In ten days, this cloud began to 
 thicken, and to form an oblong body, of the 
 figure of a little worm : and, in twelve days, 
 the figure of the embryo was distinctly to be 
 perceived, and even its parts came into view. 
 In the region of the breast he perceived two 
 bloody specks ; and two more, that appeared 
 whitish. Fourteen days after impregnation, 
 the head of the embryo was become large and 
 transparent, the eyes prominent, the mouth 
 open, and the rudiments of the ears begin- 
 ning to appear; the back-bone, of a whitish 
 colour, was bent towards the breast ; the two 
 bloody specks being now considerably increas- 
 ed, appeared to be nothing less than the out- 
 lines of the two ventricles of the heart; and 
 the two whitish specks on each side, now ap- 
 peared to be the rudiments of the lungs ; to- 
 wards the region of the belly, the liver began 
 to be seen, of a reddish colour: and a little 
 intricate mass, like ravelled thread, discerned, 
 which soon appeared to be the stomach and 
 the intestines : the legs soon after began to be 
 seen, and to assume their natural positions: 
 and from that time forth, all the parts being 
 formed, every day only served to deveJope 
 them still more, until the thirty-first day, when 
 the rabbit brought forth her young, complete- 
 ly fitted for the purposes of their humble 
 happiness. 
 
 Having thus seen the stages of generation 
 in the meaner animals, let us take a view of its 
 progress in man ; and trace the feeble begin- 
 nings of our own existence. An account of 
 the lowliness of our own origin, if it cannot 
 amuse, will at least serve to humble us; and 
 it may take from our pride, though it fails to 
 gratify our curiosity. We cannot here trace 
 the variations of the beginning animal, as in 
 the former instances; for the opportunities 
 of inspection are but few and accidental : for 
 this reason, we must be content often to fill 
 
130 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 up the blanks of our history with conjecture. 
 And, first, we are entirely ignorant of the state 
 of the infant in the womb, immediately after 
 conception ; but we have good reason to be- 
 lieve that it proceeds, as in most other animals, 
 from the egg. a Anatomists inform us, that 
 four days after conception, there is found in 
 the womb an oval substance, about the size of 
 a small pea, but longer one way than the 
 other ; this little body is formed by an extreme- 
 ly fine membrane, inclosing a liquor a good 
 deal resembling the white of an egg : in this 
 may, even then, be perceived, several small 
 fibres, united together, which form the first ru- 
 diments of the embryo. Beside these, are seen 
 another set of fibres, which soon after become 
 the placenta, or that body by which the ani- 
 mal is supplied with nourishment. 
 
 Seven days after conception, we can readily 
 distinguish, by the eye, the first lineaments of 
 the child in the womb. However, they are as 
 yet without form ; showing, at the end of seven 
 days, pretty much such an appearance as that 
 of the chicken after four and twenty hours, 
 being a small jelly-like mass, yet exhibiting 
 the rudiments of the head ; the trunk is barely 
 visible : there likewise is to be discerned a small 
 assemblage of fibres issuing from the body of 
 the infant, which afterwards become the blood- 
 vessels that convey nourishment from the pla- 
 centa to the child, while inclosed in the womb. 
 
 Fifteen days after conception, the head be- 
 comes distinctly visible, and even the most 
 prominent features of the visage begin to ap- 
 pear. The nose is a little elevated : there are 
 two black specks in the place of eyes ; and 
 two little holes, where the ears are afterwards 
 seen. The body of the embryo also is grown 
 larger ; and both above and below, are seen 
 two little protuberances, which mark the pla- 
 ces from whence the arms and thighs are to 
 proceed. The length of the whole body, at 
 this time, is less than half an inch. 
 
 At the end of three weeks, the body has re- 
 ceived very little increase ; but the legs and 
 feet, with the hands and arms, are become ap- 
 parent. The growth of the arms is more 
 speedy than that of the legs ; and the fingers 
 are sooner separated than the toes. About 
 this time the internal parts are found, upon 
 
 This history of the child in the womb is translated 
 from Mr. Bufibn, with some alterations. 
 
 dissection, to become distinguishable. The 
 places of the bones are marked by small thread- 
 like substances, that are yet more fluid even 
 than a jelly. Among them, the ribs are dis- 
 tinguishable, like threads also, disposed on 
 each side of the spine ; and even the fingers 
 and toes scarcely exceed hairs in thickness. 
 
 In a month, the embryo is an inch long ; 
 the body is bent forward, a situation which it 
 almost always assumes in the womb, either lie- 
 cause a posture of this kind is the most easy, 
 or because it takes up the least room. The 
 human figure is now no longer doubtful ; every 
 part of the face is distinguishable ; the body is 
 sketched out ; the bowels are to be distinguish- 
 ed as threads ; the bones are still quite soft, but 
 in some places beginning to assume a greater 
 rigidity ; the blood-vessels that go to the pla- 
 centa, which, as was said, contributes to the 
 child's nourishment, are plainly seen issuing 
 from the navel, (being therefore called the um- 
 bilical vessels,) and going to spread themselves 
 upon the placenta. According to Hippocrates, 
 the male e.rtbryo developes sooner than the fe- 
 male : he adds, that, at the end of thirty days, 
 the parts of the body of the male are distin- 
 guishable ; while those of the female are not 
 equally so till ten days after. 
 
 In six weeks, the embryo is grown two 
 inches long ; the human figure begins to grow 
 every day more perfect ; the head being still 
 much larger, in proportion to the rest of the 
 body ; and the motion of the heart is perceiv- 
 ed almost by the eye. It has been seen to 
 beat in an embryo of fifty days old, a long 
 time after it had been taken out of the womb. 
 
 In two months, the embryo is more than two 
 inches in length. The ossification is per- 
 ceivable in the arms and thighs, and in the 
 point of the chin, the under jaw being greatly 
 advanced before the upper. These parts, how- 
 ever, may as yet be considered as bony points, 
 rather than as bones. The umbilical vessels, 
 which before went side by side, are now be- 
 gun to be twisted, like a rope, one over the 
 other, and go to join with the placenta, which, 
 as yet, is but small. 
 
 In three months, the embryo is above three 
 inches long, and weighs about three ounces. 
 Hippocrates observes, that not till then the mo- 
 ther perceives the child's motion : and he adds, 
 that in female children, the motion is not ob- 
 servable till the end of four months. How- 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 131 
 
 ver, this is no general rule, as there are wo- 
 men who assert, that they perceived themselves 
 to be qaick with child, as their expression is, 
 at the end of two months; so that this quick- 
 ness seems rather to arise from the proportion 
 between the child's strength and the mother's 
 sensiYility, than from any determinate period 
 of time. At all times, however, the child is 
 equally alive ; and, consequently, those juries 
 of matrons, that are to determine upon the 
 pregnancy of criminals, should not inquire 
 whether the woman be quick, but whether she 
 be with chill ; if the latter be perceivable, the 
 former follows of course. 
 
 Four months and a half after conception, 
 the embryo is from six to seven inches long. 
 All the parts are so augmented, that even their 
 proportions are now distinguishable. The 
 very nails begin to appear upon the fingers 
 and toes : and the stomach and intestines al- 
 ready begin to perform their functions of re- 
 ceiving and digesting. In the stomach is found 
 a liquor similar to that in which the embryo 
 floats ; in one part of the intestines, a milky 
 substance ; and, in the other, an excrementi- 
 tious. There is found, also, a small quantity 
 of bile in the gall bladder ; and some urine in 
 its own proper receptacle. By this time, also, 
 the posture of the embryo seems to be deter- 
 mined. The head is bent forward, so that the 
 chin seems to rest upon its breast ; the knees 
 are raised up towards the head, and the legs 
 bent backward, somewhat resembling the pos- 
 ture of those who sit on their haunches. Some- 
 times the knees are raised so high as to touch 
 the cheeks, and the feet are crossed over each 
 other ; the arms are laid upon the breast, while 
 one of the hands, and often both, touch the vi- 
 sage ; sometimes the hands are shut, and some- 
 times also the arms are found hanging down 
 by the body. These are the most usual pos- 
 tures which the embryo assumes ; but these it 
 is frequently known to change ; and it is ow- 
 ing to these alterations that the mother so fre- 
 quently feels those twitches, which are usually 
 attended with pain. 
 
 The embryo, thus situated, is furnished by 
 nature with all things proper for its support ; 
 and, as it increases in size, its nourishment also 
 is found to increase with it. As soon as it first 
 begins to grow in the womb, that receptacle, 
 from being very small, grows larger ; and, 
 what is more surprising, thicker every day. 
 
 The sides of a bladder, as we know, the more 
 they are distended, the more they become thin. 
 But here, the larger the womb grows, the more 
 it appears to thicken. Within this the embryo 
 is still farther involved in two membranes, 
 called the chorion and amnios ; and floats in 
 a thin transparent fluid, upon which it seems, 
 in some measure, to subsist. However, the 
 great storehouse, from whence its chief nou- 
 rishment is supplied, is called the placenta ; a 
 red substance somewhat resembling a sponge, 
 that adheres to the inside of the womb, and 
 communicates, by the umbilical vessels, with 
 the embryo. These umbilical vessels, which 
 consist of a vein and two arteries, issue from 
 the navel of the child, and are branched out 
 upon the placenta ; where they, in fact, seem 
 to form its substance ; and, if I may so express 
 it, to suck up their nourishment from the womb, 
 and the fluids contained therein. The blood 
 thus received from the womb, by the placenta, 
 and communicated by the umbilical vein to 
 the body of the embryo, is conveyed to the heart ; 
 where, without ever passing into the lungs, as 
 in the born infant, it takes a shorter course ; 
 for, entering the right auricle of the heart, in- 
 stead of passing up into the pulmonary artery, 
 it seems to break this partition, and goes di- 
 rectly through the body of the heart, by an 
 opening called the foramen ovale, and from 
 thence to the aorta, or great artery ; by which 
 it is driven into all parts of the body. Thus 
 we see the placenta, in some measure, supply- 
 ing the place of lungs ; for, as the little animal 
 can receive no air by inspiration, the lungs are 
 therefore useless. But we see the placenta 
 converting the fluid of the womb into blood, 
 and sending it, by the umbilical vein, to the 
 heart ; from whence it is despatched by a quicker 
 and shorter circulation through the whole frame. 
 In this manner the embryo reposes in the 
 womb ; supplied with that nourishment which 
 is fitted to its necessities, and furnished with 
 those organs that are adapted to its situation. 
 As its sensations are but few, its wants are in 
 the same proportion ; and it is probable that 
 a sleep, with scarcely any intervals, marks the 
 earliest period of human life. 
 
 As the little creature, however, gathers 
 strength and size,it seems to become more wake- 
 ful and uneasy ; even in the womb it begins to 
 feel the want of something it does not possess ; 
 a sensation that seems coeval with man's nature, 
 
 2D 
 
132 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 and never leaves him till he dies. The em- 
 bryo even then begins to struggle for a state 
 more marked by pleasure and pain, and, from 
 about the sixth month, begins to give the 
 mother warning of the greater pain she is yet 
 to endure. The continuation of pregnancy, in 
 woman, is usually nine months ; but there 
 have been many instances when the.child has 
 lived that was born at seven ; and some are 
 found to continue pregnant a month above the 
 usual time. When the appointed time ap- 
 proaches, the infant, that has for some months 
 been giving painful proofs of its existence, now 
 begins to increase its efforts for liberty. The 
 head is applied downward, to the aperture of 
 the womb, and by reiterated efforts it endea- 
 vours to extend the same : these endeavours 
 produce the pain which all women in labour 
 feel in some degree ; those of strong constitu- 
 tions the least, those most weakly the most 
 severely ; since we learn, that the women of 
 Africa always deliver themselves, and are well 
 a few hours after ; while those of Europe re- 
 quire assistance, and recover more slowly. 
 Thus the infant, still continuing to push with 
 its head forward, by the repetition of its endea- 
 vours, at last succeeds, and issues into life. 
 The blood, which had hitherto passed through 
 the heart, now takes a wider circuit ; and the 
 foramen ovale closes ; the lungs, that had till 
 this time been inactive, now first begin their 
 functions ; the air rushes in to distend them ; 
 and this produces the first sensation of pain, 
 which the infant expresses by a shriek ; so 
 that the beginning of our lives, as well as the 
 end, is marked with anguish." 
 
 From comparing these accounts, we per- 
 ceive that the most laboured generation is the 
 most perfect ; and that the animal which, in 
 proportion to its bulk, takes the longest time 
 .for production, is always the most complete 
 when finished. Of all others, man seems the 
 slowest in coming into life, as he is the slowest 
 in coming to perfection ; other animals, of the 
 same bulk, seldom remain in the womb above 
 six months, while he continues nine ; and even 
 after his birth appears mdre than any other to 
 have his state of imbecility prolonged. 
 
 We may observe also, that that generation 
 is the most complete in whicli the fewest ani- 
 mals are produced : Nature, by attending to 
 
 " Bonnet Contemplate, de la Nature, vol. i. p. 212. 
 
 the production of one at a time, seems to exert 
 all her efforts in bringing it 10 perfection ; but, 
 where this attention is divided, the animals so 
 produced come into the world with partial ad- 
 vantages. In this manner twins are never, at 
 least while infants, so large or so strong as 
 those that come singly into the world ; 
 each having, in some measure, robbed the 
 other of its right ; as that support, which 
 Nature meant for one, has been prodigally 
 divided. 
 
 In this manner, as those animals are the best 
 that are produced singly, so we find that the 
 noblest animals are ever the least fruitful. 
 These are seen usually to bring forth but one 
 at a time, and to place all their attention upon 
 that alone. On the other hand, all the ovipa- 
 rous kinds produce in amazing plenty ; and 
 even the lower tribes of viviparous animals in- 
 crease in a seeming proportion to their mi- 
 nuteness and imperfection. Nature seems la- 
 vish of life in the lower orders of the creation ; 
 and, as if she meant them entirely for the use of 
 the nobler races, she appears to have bestowed 
 greater pains in multiplying the number than 
 in completing the kind. In this manner, 
 while the elephant and the horse bring forth 
 but one at a time, the spider and the beetle 
 are seen to produce a thousand : and even 
 among the smaller quadrupeds, all the inferior 
 kinds are extremely fertile ; any one of these 
 being found, in a very few months, to become 
 the parent of a numerous progeny. 
 
 In this manner, therefore, the smallest ani- 
 mals multiply in the greatest proportion ; and 
 we have reason to thank Providence, that the 
 most formidable animals are the least fruitful. 
 Had the lion and the tiger the same degree 
 of fecundity with the rabbit or the rat, all the 
 arts of man would be unable to oppose these 
 fierce invaders ; and we should soon perceive 
 them become the tyrants of those who claim 
 the lordship of the creation. But Heaven, in 
 this respect, has wisely consulted the advantage 
 of all. It has opposed to man only such ene- 
 mies as he has art and strength to conquer ; 
 and, as large animals require proportional sup- 
 plies, Nature was unwilling to give new life, 
 where it, in some measure, denied the neces- 
 sary means of subsistence. 
 
 In consequence of this pre-established order, 
 the animals that are endowed with the most 
 perfect methods of generation, and bring forth 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 133 
 
 but one at a time, seldom begin to procreate 
 till they have almost acquired their full growth. 
 On the other hand, those which bring forth 
 many, engender before they have arrived at 
 half their natural size. The horse and the bull, 
 come almost to perfection before they begin to 
 generate ; the hog and the rabbit, scarcely 
 leave the teat before they become parents 
 themselves. In whatever light, therefore, we 
 consider this subject, we shall find that all crea- 
 tures approach most to perfection, whose ge- 
 
 neration most nearly resembles that of man. 
 The reptile produced from cutting, is but one 
 degree above the vegetable. The animal pro- 
 duced from the egg, is a step higher in the scale 
 of existence : that class of animals which are 
 brought forth alive, are still more exalted. Of 
 these, such as bring forth one at a time are the 
 most complete ; and foremost of these stands 
 man, the great master of all, who seems to have 
 united the perfections of all the rest in his for- 
 mation. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 THE INFANCY OF MAN. 
 
 WHEN we take a survey of the various 
 classes of animals, and examine their strength, 
 their beauty, or their structure, we shall find 
 man to possess most of those ad vantages united, 
 which the rest enjoy partially. Infinitely su- 
 perior to all others in the powers of the under- 
 standing, he is also superior to them in the fit- 
 ness and proportions of his form. He would, 
 indeed, have been one of the most miserable 
 beings upon earth, if with a sentient mind he 
 was so formed as to be incapable of obeying its 
 impulse : but nature has otherwise provided ; 
 as with the most extensive intellects to com- 
 mand, she has furnished him with a body the 
 best fitted for obedience. 
 
 In infancy,* however, that mind, and this 
 body, form the most helpless union in all ani- 
 mated nature ; and, if any thing can give us a 
 picture of complete imbecility, it is a man when 
 just come into the world. The infant just 
 born, stands in need of all things, without the 
 power of procuring any. The lower races of 
 animals, upon being produced, are active, 
 vigorous, and capable of self-support ; but the 
 infant is obliged to wait in helpless expectation, 
 and its cries are its only aid to procure sub- 
 sistence. 
 
 An infant just born may be said to come 
 from one element into another ; for, from the 
 watery fluid in which it was surrounded, it 
 now immerges into air ; and its first cries seem 
 
 Buffon, vol. iv. p. 173. 
 
 to imply how greatly it regrets the change. 
 How much longer it could have continued in 
 a state of almost total insensibility, in the 
 womb, is impossible to tell ; but it is very pro- 
 bable that it could remain there some hours 
 more. In order to throw some light upon this 
 subject, Mr. Buffon so placed a pregnant bitch 
 as that her puppies were brought forth in 
 warm water, in which he kept them above 
 half an hour at a time. However, he saw no 
 change in the animals, thus newly brought 
 forth ; they continued the whole time vigorous ; 
 and, during the whole time, it is very probable 
 that the blood circulated through the same 
 channels through which it passed while they 
 continued in the womb. 
 
 Almost all animals have their eyes closed, b 
 for some days after being brought into the 
 world. The infant opens them the instant of 
 its birth. However, it seems to keep them 
 fixed and idle ; they want that lustre which 
 they acquire by degrees ; and if they happen 
 to move, it is rather an accidental gaze than 
 an exertion of the act of seeing. The light 
 alone seems to make the greatest impression 
 upon them. The eyes of infants are sometimes 
 found turned to the place where it is strongest ; 
 and the pupil is seen to dilate and diminish, 
 as in grown persons, in proportion to the quan- 
 tity it receives. But still, the infant is in- 
 capable of distinguishing objects ; the sense of 
 
 Buffon, vol. iv. p. 173. 
 
 2D 
 
134 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 seeing, like the rest of the senses, requires a 
 habit before it becomes any way serviceable. 
 All the senses must be compared with each 
 other, and must be made to correct the de- 
 fects of one another, before they can give just 
 information. It is probable, therefore, that if 
 the infant could express its own sensations, it 
 would give a very extaordinary description 
 of the illusions which it suffers from them. 
 The sight might, perhaps, be represented as 
 inverting objects, or multiplying them ; the 
 hearing, instead of conveying one uniform 
 tone, might be said to bring up an interrupted 
 succession of noises ; and the touch apparently 
 would divide one body into as many as there 
 are fingers that grasped it. But all these er- 
 rors are lost in one common confused idea of 
 existence ; and it is happy for the infant, that 
 it then can make but very little use of its sen- 
 ses, when they could serve only to bring it false 
 information. 
 
 If there be any distinct sensations, those of 
 pain seem to be much more frequent and 
 stronger than those of pleasure. The infant's 
 cries are sufficient indications of the uneasi- 
 nesses it must, at every interval, endure ; 
 while, in the beginning, it has got no exter- 
 nal marks to testify its satisfactions. It is not 
 till after forty days that it is seen to smile ; 
 and not till that time also the tears begin to ap- 
 pear, its former expressions of uneasiness be- 
 ing always without them. As to any other 
 marks of the passions, the infant being as yet 
 almost without them, it can express none of 
 them in its visage ; which, except in the act of 
 crying and laughing, is fixed in a settled se- 
 renity. All the other parts of the body seem 
 equally relaxed and feeble; its motions are 
 uncertain, and its postures without choice ; it 
 is unable to stand upright ; its hams are yet 
 bent, from the habit which it received from 
 its position in the womb ; it has not strength 
 enough in its arms to stretch them forward, 
 much less to grasp any thing with its hands; 
 it rests just in the posture it is laid ; and, if 
 abandoned, must continue in the same po- 
 sition. 
 
 Nevertheless, though this be the description 
 of infancy among mankind in general, there 
 are countries and races, among whom infancy 
 docs not seem marked with such utter imbe- 
 cility, but where the children, not long after 
 they are born, appear possessed of a greater 
 
 share of self support. The children of Ne- 
 groes have a surprising degree of this prema- 
 ture industry : they are able to walk at two 
 months ; or, at least, to move from one place 
 to another: they also hang to the mother's 
 back without any assistance, and seize the 
 breast over her shoulder, continuing in this 
 posture till she thinks proper to lay them 
 down. This is very different in the children 
 of our countries, that seldom are able to walk 
 under a twelvemonth. 
 
 The skin of children newly brought forth is 
 always red, proceeding from its transparency, 
 by which the blood beneath appears more 
 conspicuous. Some say that this redness is 
 greatest in those children that are afterwards 
 about to have the finest complexions ; and it 
 appears reasonable that it should be so, since 
 the thinnest skins are always the fairest. The 
 size of a new-born infant is generally about 
 twenty inches, and its weight about twelve 
 pounds. The head is large, and all the mem- 
 bers delicate, soft, and puffy. These appear- 
 ances alter with its age ; as it grows older, 
 the head becomes less in proportion to the rest 
 of the body ; the flesh hardens ; the bones 
 that befon 1 birth grew very thick in propor- 
 tion, now lengthen by degrees, and the human 
 figure more and more acquires its due dimen- 
 sions. In such children, however, as are but 
 feeble or sickly, the head always continues too 
 big for the body ; the heads of dwarfs being 
 extremely large in proportion. 
 
 Infants, when newly born, pass most of 
 their true in sleeping, and awake with crying, 
 excited either by sensations of pain, or of 
 hunger. Man, when come to maturity, but 
 rarely feels the want of food, as eating twice 
 or thrice in the four-and twenty hours, is 
 known to suffice the most voracious : but the 
 infant may be considered as a little glutton, 
 whose only pleasure consists in its appetite ; 
 and this, except when it sleeps, it is never 
 easy without satisfying. Thus nature has 
 adapted different desires to the different periods 
 of life ; each as it seems most necessary for 
 human support or succession. While the ani- 
 mal is yet forming, hunger excites it to that 
 supply which is necessary for its growth ; when 
 it is completely formed, a different appetite 
 takes place, that incites it to communicate 
 existence. Thuse two desires i .ke up the 
 whole attention at different periods, but are 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 135 
 
 very seldom found to prevail strongly toge- 
 gether in the same age ; one pleasure ever 
 serving to repress the other : and, if we find 
 a person of full age, placing a principal part 
 of his happiness in the nature and quantity 
 of his food, we have strong reasons to suspect, 
 that with respect to his other appetites, he 
 still retains a part of the imbecility of his 
 childhood. 
 
 It is extraordinary, however, that infants, 
 who are thus more voracious than grown 
 persons, are nevertheless more capable of 
 sustaining hunger. We haveseveral instances, 
 in accidental cases of famine, in which the 
 child has been known to survive the parent; 
 and seen clinging to the breast of its dead 
 mother. Their little bodies also are more 
 patient of cold; and we have similar instances 
 of the mother's perishing in the snow, while 
 the infant has been found alive beside her. 
 However, if we examine the internal struc- 
 ture of infants, we shall find an obvious rea- 
 son for both these advantages. Their blood- 
 vessels are known to be much larger than in 
 adults ; and their nerves much thicker and 
 softer : thus, being furnished with a more co- 
 pious quantity of juices, both of the nervous 
 and sanguinary kinds, the infant finds a tern 
 porary sustenance in this superfluity, and 
 does not expire till both are exhausted. The 
 circulation also being larger and quicker, 
 supplies it with proportionable warmth, so 
 that it is more capable of resisting the acci- 
 dental rigours of the weather. 
 
 The first nourishment of infants is well 
 known to be the mother's milk ; and, what 
 is remarkable, the infant has milk in its own 
 breasts, which may be squeezed out by 
 compression : this nourishment becomes less 
 grateful as the child gathers strength; and 
 perhaps, also, more unwholesome. However, 
 in cold countries, which are unfavourable to 
 
 Sropagation, and where the female has sel- 
 om above three or four children at the most, 
 during her life, she continues to suckle the 
 child for four or five years together. In this 
 manner the mothers of Canada and Green- 
 land are often seen suckling two or three 
 children, of different ages, at a time. 
 
 The life of infants is very precarious, till the 
 age of three or four, from which time it be- 
 comes more secure ; and when a child ar- 
 
 rives at its seventh year, it is then considered 
 as a more certain life, as Mr. Buflbn asserts, 
 than at any other age whatever. It appears, 
 from Simson's Tables, that of a certain num- 
 ber of children born at the same time, a 
 fourth part are found dead at the end of the 
 first year; more than one third at the end of 
 the second ; and, at least, half, at the end of 
 the third : so that those who live to be above 
 three years old, are indulged a longer term 
 than half the rest of their fellow creatures. 
 Nevertheless, life, at that period, may be con- 
 sidered as mere animal existence ; and rather 
 a preparation for, than an enjoyment of those 
 satisfactions, both of mind and body, that 
 make life of real value : and hence it is more 
 natural for mankind to deplore a fellow crea- 
 ture, cut off in the bloom of life, than one 
 dying in early infancy. The one, by living 
 up to youth, and thus wading through the 
 disadvantageous parts of existence, seems to 
 have earned a short continuance of its enjoy- 
 ments ; the infant, on the contrary, has ser- 
 ved but a short apprenticeship to pain ; and, 
 when taken away, may be considered as res- 
 cued from a long continuance of misery. 
 
 There is something very remarkable in the 
 growth of the human body." The embryo in 
 the womb continues to increase still more 
 and more, till it is born. On the other hand, 
 the child's growth is less every year till the 
 time of puberty, when it seems to start up of 
 a sudden. Thus, for instance, the embryo, 
 which is an inch long, in the first month, 
 grows but one inch and a quarter in the se- 
 cond ; it then grows one and a half in the 
 third ; two and a half in the fourth ; and in 
 this manner it keeps increasing, till, in the 
 last month of its continuance, it is actually 
 found to grow four inches ; and, in the whole, 
 about eighteen inches long. But it is other- 
 wise with the child when born : if we suppose 
 it eighteen inches at that time, it grows, in 
 the first year, six or seven inches; in the se- 
 cond year, it grows but four inches ; in the 
 third year about three ; and so on, at the 
 rate of about an inch and a half, or two inches, 
 each year, till the time of puberty, when na- 
 ture seems to make one great last effort to 
 complete her work, and unfold the whole 
 animal machine. 
 
 Buflbn, vol. i?. p. 173. 
 
136 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 The growth of the mind in children seems 
 to correspond with that of the body. The 
 comparative progress of the understanding 
 is greater in infants than in children of three 
 or four years old. If we only reflect a mo- 
 ment on the amazing acquisitions that an in- 
 fant makes in the first and second years of 
 life, we shall have much cause for wonder. 
 Being sent into a world where every thing 
 is new and unknown, the first months of life 
 are spent in a kind of torpid amazement ; an 
 attention distracted by the multiplicity of ob- 
 jects that press to be known. The first la- 
 bour, therefore, of the little learner is, to 
 correct the illusions of the senses, to distin- 
 guish one object from another, and to exert 
 the memory, so as to know them again. In 
 this manner a child of a year old has already 
 made a thousand experiments ; all which it 
 has properly ranged, and distinctly remem- 
 bers. Light, heat, fire, sweets, and bitters, 
 sounds soft or terrible, are all distinguished 
 at the end of a very few months. Besides 
 this, every person the child knows, every in- 
 dividual object it becomes fond of, its rattles, 
 or its bells, may be all considered as so many 
 new lessons to the young mind, with which 
 it has not become acquainted, without re- 
 peated exertions of the understanding. At 
 this period of life, the knowledge of every 
 individual object cannot be acquired without 
 the same effort which, when grown up, is em- 
 ployed upon the most abstract idea: every 
 thing the child hears or sees, all the marks 
 and characters of nature, are as much un- 
 known, and require the same attention to at- 
 tain, as if the reader were set to understand 
 the characters of an Ethiopic manuscript: 
 and yet, we see in how short a time the little 
 studept begins to understand them all, and 
 to give evident marks of early industry. 
 
 It is very amusing to pursue the young mind, 
 while employed in its first attainments. At 
 about a year old, the same necessities that 
 first engaged its faculties, increase, as its ac- 
 quaintance with nature enlarges. Its sudies, 
 therefore, if I may use the expression, are no 
 way relaxed ; for, having experienced what 
 gave pleasure at one time, it desires a repe- 
 tition of it from the same object ; and, in or- 
 der to obtain this, that object must be pointed 
 out ; here, therefore, a new necessity arises, 
 
 which, very often, neither its little arts nor 
 importunities can remove; so that the child 
 is at last obliged to set about naming the ob- 
 jects it desires to ppssess or avoid. In begin- 
 ning to speak, which is usually about a year 
 old, children find a thousand difficulties. It 
 is not without repeated trials that they come 
 to pronounce any one of the letters ; nor with- 
 out an effort of the memory, that they can re- 
 tain them. For this reason, we frequently see 
 them attempting a sound which they had 
 learned, but forgot ; and when they have fail- 
 ed, I have often seen their attempt attended 
 with apparent confusion. The letters soon- 
 est learned, are those which are most easily 
 formed ; thus A and B require an obvious dis- 
 position of the organs, arid their pronuncia- 
 tion is consequently soon attained. Z and R, 
 which require a more complicated position, 
 are learned with greater difficulty. And this 
 may, perhaps, be the reason why the children 
 in some countries speak sooner than in others; 
 for the letters mostly occurring in the lan- 
 guage of one country, being such as are of 
 easy pronunciation, that language is of course 
 more easily attained. In this manner the 
 children of the Italians are said to speak 
 sooner than those of the Germans ; the lan- 
 guage of the one being smooth and open ; 
 that of the other, crowded with consonants, 
 and extremely guttural. 
 
 But be this as it will, in all countries chil- 
 dren are found able to express the greatest 
 part of their wants by the time they arrive at 
 two years old ; and from the moment the ne- 
 cessity of learning new words ceases, they re- 
 lax their industry. It is then that the mind, 
 like the body, seems every year to make slow 
 advances; and, in order to spur up attention, 
 many systems of education have been con- 
 trived. 
 
 Almost every philosopher, who has written 
 on the education of children, has been wil- 
 ling to point out a method of his own, chiefly 
 professing to advance the health, and improve 
 the intellects at the same time. These are 
 usually found to begin with finding nothing 
 right in the common practice ; and by urging 
 a total reformation. In consequence of this, 
 nothing can be more wild or imaginary than 
 their various systems of improvement. Some 
 will have the children every day plunged in 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 137 
 
 cold water,in order tostrengthen their bodies; 
 they will have them converse with the servants 
 in nothing but the Latin language, in order to 
 strengthen their minds; every hour of the day 
 must be appointed for its own studies, and the 
 child must learn to make these very studies 
 an amusement ; till about the age of ten or 
 eleven it becomes a prodigy of premature im- 
 provement. Quite opposite to this, we have 
 others, whom the courtesy of mankind also 
 calls philosophers: and they will have the 
 child learn nothing till the age of ten or ele- 
 ven, at which the former has attained so much 
 perfection ; with them the mind is to be kept 
 empty, until it has a proper distinction of some 
 metaphysical ideas about truth; and the pro- 
 mising pupil is debarred the use of even his 
 own faculties, lest they should conduct him 
 into prejudice and error. In this manner, 
 some men, whom fashion has celebrated for 
 profound and fine thinkers, have given their 
 hazarded and untried conjectures, upon one 
 of the most important subjects in the world, 
 and the most interesting to humanity. When 
 men speculate at liberty upon innate ideas, 
 or the abstracted distinctions between will 
 and power, they may be permitted to enjoy 
 their systems at pleasure, as they are harm- 
 less, although they may be wrong ; but when 
 they allege that children are to be every day 
 plunged in cold water, and, whatever be their 
 constitutions, indiscriminately inured to cold 
 and moisture ; that they are to be kept wet in 
 the feet, to prevent their catching cold; and 
 never to be corrected when young, for fear 
 of breaking their spirits when old; these are 
 such noxious errors, that all reasonable men 
 should endeavour to oppose them. Many 
 have been the children whom these opinions, 
 begun in speculation, have injured or destroy- 
 ed in practice ; and I have seen many a little 
 philosophical martyr, whom I wished, but was 
 unable to relieve. 
 
 If any system be therefore necessary, it is 
 one that would serve to show a very plain 
 point ; that very little system is necessary. 
 The natural and common course of education 
 is in every respect the best ; I mean that in 
 which the child is permitted to play among 
 its little equals, from whose similar instruc- 
 tions it often gains the most useful stores of 
 knowledge. A child is not idle because it is 
 
 playing about the fields, or pursuing a but- 
 terfly ; it is all this time storing its mind with 
 objects, upon the nature, the properties, and 
 the relations of which future curiosity may 
 speculate. 
 
 I have ever found it a vain task to try to 
 make a child's learning its amusement ; nor 
 do I see what good end it would answer, were 
 it actually attained. The child, as was said, 
 ought to have its share of play, and it will be 
 benefited thereby ; and for every reason also 
 it ought tohave its share of labour. The mind, 
 by early labour, will be thus accustomed to 
 fatigues and subordination ; and whatever be 
 the person's future employment in life, he will 
 be better fitted to endure it : he will be thus 
 enabled to support the drudgeries of office 
 with content; or to fill up the vacancies of 
 life with variety. The child, therefore, should 
 by times be put to its duty; and be taught to 
 know, that the task is to be done, or the pu- 
 nishment to be endured. I do not object 
 against alluring it to duty by reward ; but we 
 well know, that the mind will be more strongly 
 stimulated by pain; and both may, upon some 
 occasions, take their turn to operate. In this 
 manner, a child, by playing with its equals 
 abroad, and labouring with them at school, 
 will acquire more health and knowledge, than 
 by being bred up under the wing of any spe- 
 culative system-maker; and will be thus qua- 
 lified for a life of activity and obedience. It 
 istrue,i:ideed,that when educated inthis man- 
 ner, the boy may not be so seemingly sensi- 
 ble and forward as one bred up under solita- 
 ry instruction ; and, perhaps, this early for- 
 wardness is more engaging than useful. It 
 is well known, that many of those children 
 who have been such prodigies of literature 
 before ten, have not made an adequate pro- 
 gress to twenty. It should seem, that they 
 only began learning manly things before their 
 time ; and, while others were busied in pick- 
 ing up that knowledge adapted to their age 
 andcuriosity,these were forced upon subjects 
 unsuited to their years; and, upon that ac- 
 count alone, appearing extraordinary. The 
 stock of knowledge in both may be equal ; 
 but with this difference, that each is yet to 
 learn what the other knows. 
 
 But whatever may have been the acquisi- 
 tions of children at ten or twelve, their great- 
 
138 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 est and most rapid progress, is made when 
 they arrive near the age of puberty. It is then 
 that all the powers of nature seem at work in 
 strengthening the mind, and completing the 
 body; the youth acquires courage, and the 
 virgin modesty; the mind, with new sensations, 
 assumes new powers ; it conceives with grea- 
 
 ter force, and remembers with greater tenacity. 
 About this time, therefore, which is vari- 
 ous in different countries, more is learned 
 in one year tha*n in any two of the pre- 
 ceding; and on this age, in particular, the 
 greatest weight of instruction ought to be 
 thrown. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 OF PUBERTY. 
 
 IT has been often said, that the season of 
 youth is the season of pleasures : but this can 
 only be true in savage countries, where but 
 little preparation is made for the perfection 
 of human nature; and where the mind has but 
 a very small part in the enjoyment. It is 
 otherwise in those places where nature is car- 
 ried to the highest pitch of refinement, in 
 which this season of the greatest sensual de- 
 light is wisely made subservient to the suc- 
 ceeding and more rational one of manhood. 
 Youth, with us, is but a scene of preparation ; 
 a drama, upon the right conduct of which all 
 future happiness is to depend. The youth 
 who follows his appetites, too soon seizes the 
 cup, before it has received its best ingredients; 
 and, by anticipating his pleasures, robs the 
 remaining parts of life of their share ; so that 
 his eagerness only produces a manhood of 
 imbecility, and an age of pain. 
 
 The time of puberty is different in various 
 countries, and always more late in men than 
 in women. In the warm countries of India, 
 the women are marriageable at nine or ten, 
 and the men at twelve or thirteen. It is also 
 different in cities, where the inhabitants lead 
 a more soft, luxurious life, from the country, 
 where they work harder, and fare less deli- 
 cately. Its symptoms are seldom alike in dif- 
 ferent persons ; but it is usually known by a 
 swelling of the breasts in one sex, and a rough- 
 ness of the voice in the other. At this season, 
 also, the women seem to acquire new beauty, 
 while the men lose all that delicate effeminacy 
 of countenance which they had when boys. 
 
 All countries, in proportion as they are ci- 
 
 vilized or barbarous, improve or degrade the 
 nuptial satisfaction. In those miserable re- 
 gions, where strength makes the only law, the 
 stronger sex exerts its power, and becomes 
 the tyrant over the weaker : while the inha- 
 bitant of Negroland is indolently taking his 
 pleasure in the fields, his wife is obliged to 
 till the grounds, thatserve for theirmutual sup- 
 port. It is thus in all barbarous countries, 
 where the men throw all the laborious duties 
 of life upon the women ; and, regardless of 
 beauty, put the softer sex to those employ- 
 ments that must effectually destroy it. 
 
 But, in countries that are half barbarous, 
 particularly wherever Mahometanism pre- 
 vails, the men run into the very opposite ex- 
 treme. Equally brutal with the former, they 
 exert their tyranny over the weaker sex, and 
 consider that half of the human creation as 
 merely made to be subservient to the depra- 
 ved desires of the other. The chief, and, in- 
 deed, the only aim of an Asiatic, is to be pos- 
 sessed of many women ; and to be able to fur- 
 nish a seraglio, is the only tendency of his am 
 bition. As the savage was totally regardless 
 of beauty, he, on the contrary, prizes it too 
 highly ; he excludes the person who is pos- 
 sessed of such personal attractions from any 
 share in the duties or employments of life; . 
 and, as if willing to engross all beauty to him- 
 self, increases the number of his captives in 
 proportion to the progress of his fortune. In 
 this manner he vainly expects to augment his 
 satisfactions, by seeking from many that hap- 
 piness which he ought to look for in the so- 
 ciety of one alone. He lives a gloomy tyrant, 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 139 
 
 amidst wretches of his own making; lie feels 
 none of those endearments which spring from 
 affection, none of those delicacies which arise 
 from knowledge. His mistresses, being shut 
 out from the world, and totally ignorant of all 
 that passes there, have no arts to entertain 
 his mind, or cr.lm his anxieties ; the day pas- 
 ses with them in sullen silence, or languid re- 
 pose ; appetite can furnish but few opportu- 
 nities of varying the scene ; and all that falls 
 beyond it must be irksome expectation. 
 
 From this avarice of women, if I may be 
 allowed to express it so, has proceeded that 
 jealousy and suspicion which ever attends the 
 miser : hence those low and barbarous me- 
 thods of keeping the women of those countries 
 guarded, and of making and procuring eu- 
 nuchs to attend them. These unhappy crea- 
 tures are of two kinds, the white and the 
 black. The white are generally made in the 
 country where they reside, being but partly 
 deprived of the marks of virility ; the black 
 are generally brought from the interior parts 
 of Africa, and are made entirely bare. These 
 are chiefly chosen for their deformity ; the 
 thicker the lips, the flatter the nose, and the 
 more black the teeth, the more valuable the 
 eunuch; so that the vile jealousy of mankind 
 here inverts the order of Nature; and the poor 
 wretch finds himself valued in proportion to 
 his deficiencies. In Italy, where this barba- 
 rous custom is still retained, and eunuchs are 
 made in order to improve the voice, the laws 
 are severely aimed against such practice ; so 
 that being entirely prohibited, none but the 
 poorest, and most abandoned of the people, 
 still secretly practise it upon their children. 
 Of those served in this manner, not one in ten 
 is found to become a singer; but such is the 
 luxurious folly of the times, that the success 
 of one amply compensates for the failure of 
 the rest. It is very difficult to account for 
 the alterations which castration makes in the 
 voice, and the other parts of the body. The 
 eunuch is shaped differently from others. 
 His legs are of an equal thickness above and 
 below ; his knees weak ; his shoulders nar- 
 row ; and his beard thin and downy. In this 
 manner his person is rendered more deform- 
 ed ; but his desires, as I am told, still con- 
 tinue the same ; and actually, in Asia, some 
 of them are found to have their seraglios, as 
 
 HO. 13 & 14. 
 
 well as their masters. Even in our country, 
 we have an instance of a very fine woman 
 being married to one of them, whose appear- 
 ance was the most unpromising; and, what 
 is more extraordinary still, I am told, that 
 this couple continue perfectly happy in each 
 other's society. 
 
 The mere necessities of life seem the only 
 aim of the savage ; the sensual pleasures are 
 the only study of the semi-barbarian ; but the 
 refinement of sensuality, by reason, is the boast 
 of real politeness. Among the merely barba- 
 rous nations, such as the natives of Madagas- 
 car, or the inhabitants of Congo, nothing is 
 desired so ardently as to prostitute their wives, 
 or daughters, to strangers, for the most trifling 
 advantages ; they will account it a dishonour 
 not to be among the foremost who are thus 
 received into favour: on the other hand, the 
 Mahometan keeps his wife faithful, by con- 
 fining her person ; and would instantly put 
 her to death, if he but suspected her chastity. 
 With the politer inhabitants of Europe both 
 these barbarous extremes are avoided ; the 
 woman's person is left free, and no constraint 
 is imposed but upon her affections. The pas- 
 sion of love, which may be considered as the 
 nice conduct of ruder desire, is only known, 
 and practised in this part of the world ; so 
 that what other nations guard as their right, 
 the more delicate European is contented to 
 ask as a favour. In this manner, the concur- 
 rence of mutual appetite contributes to in- 
 crease mutual satisfaction ; and the power 
 on one side of refusing, makes every blessing 
 more grateful when obtained by the other. 
 In barbarous countries, woman is considered 
 merely as an useful slav e ; in such as are 
 somewhat more refined, she is regarded as a 
 desirable toy ; in countries entirely polished,, 
 she enjoys juster privileges, the wife being 
 considered as an useful friend, and an agreea 
 ble mistress. Her mind is still more prized 
 than her person ; and without the improve- 
 ment of both, she can never expect to be- 
 come truly agreeable ; for her good sense 
 alone can preserve what she has gained by 
 her beauty. 
 
 Female beauty, as was said, is always seen 
 to improve about the age of puberty : but if 
 we should attempt to define in what this beau- 
 ty consists, or what constitutes its perfection, 
 2E 
 
140 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 \ve should find nothing more difficult to deter- 
 mine. Every country has its peculiar way of 
 thinking, in this respect; and even the same 
 country thinks differently at different times. 
 The ancients had a very different taste from 
 what prevails at present. The eye-brows 
 joining in the middle was considered as a very 
 peculiar grace by Tibullus, in the enumera- 
 tion of the charms of his mistress. Narrow 
 foreheads were approved of, and scarcely any 
 of the Roman ladies, that are celebrated for 
 their other perfections, but are also praised 
 for the redness of their hair. The nose also 
 of the Grecian Venus, was such as would ap- 
 pear at present an actual deformity ; as it fell 
 in a straight line from the forehead, without 
 the smallest sinking between the eyes; 
 without which we never see a face at 
 present. 
 
 Among the moderns, every country seems 
 to have peculiar ideas of beauty." The Per- 
 sians admire large eye-brows, joining in the 
 middle; the edges and corners of the eyes 
 are tinctured with black, and the size of the 
 head is increased by a great variety of ban- 
 dages, formed into a turban. In some parts 
 of India, black teeth and white hair are desi- 
 red with ardour; and one of the principal 
 employments of the women of Thibet, is to 
 redden the teeth with herbs, and to make 
 their hair white by a certain preparation. 
 The passion for coloured teeth obtains also 
 in China and Japan ; where, to complete their 
 idea of beauty, the object of desire must have 
 little eyes, nearly closed, feet extremely small, 
 and a waist far from being shapely. There 
 
 Buffon. 
 
 are some nations of the American Indians that 
 flatten the heads of their children, by keeping 
 them, while young, squeezed between two 
 boards, so as to make the visage much larger 
 than it would naturally be. Others flatten 
 the head at top ; and others make it as round 
 as they possibly can. The inhabitants along 
 the western coasts of Africa have a very ex- 
 traordinary taste for beauty. A flat nose, 
 thick lips, and a jet black complexion, are 
 there the most indulgent gifts of Nature. Such, 
 indeed, they are all, in some degree, found to 
 possess. However, they take care, by art, to 
 increase the natural deformities, as they 
 should seem to us ; and they have many ad- 
 ditional methods of rendering their persons 
 stillmorefrightfully pleasing. Thewholebody 
 and visage is often scarred with a variety of 
 monstrous figures ; which is not done without 
 great pain, and repeated incision ; and even 
 sometimes parts of the body are cut away. 
 But it would be endless to remark the vari- 
 ous arts which caprice, or custom, has em- 
 ployed to distort and disfigure the body, in 
 order to render it more pleasing : in fact, 
 every nation, how barbarous soever, seems 
 unsatisfied with the human figure, as Nature 
 has left it, and has its peculiar arts of heigh- 
 tening beauty. Painting, powdering, cutting, 
 boring the nose and the ears, lengthening the 
 one and depressing the other, are arts prac- 
 tised in many countries ; and, in some degree, 
 admired in all. These arts might have been 
 at first introduced to hide epidemic deformi- 
 ties : custom, by degrees, reconciles them to 
 the view ; till, from looking upon them with 
 indifference, the eye at length begins to gaze 
 with pleasure. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 OF THE AGE OF MANHOOD." 
 
 THE human body attains to its full height 
 during the age of puberty ; or, at least, a short 
 time after. Some young people are found to 
 cease growing at fourteen or fifteen ; others 
 continue their growth till two or three and 
 twenty. During this period they are all of 
 
 b This chapter is translated from Mr. Buffon, whose de- 
 scription is very excellent. Whatever I have ndded. is 
 
 a slender make ; their thighs and legs small, 
 and the muscular parts are yet unfilled. But, 
 by degrees, the fleshy fibres augment; the 
 muscles swell, and assume their figure ; the 
 limbs become proportioned, and rounder; 
 and before the age of thirty, the body in men 
 
 marked by inverted commas, " thus." And in whatever 
 trifling points I have differed, the notpi will >-v* .t-~ 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 141 
 
 has acquired the most perfect symmetry. In 
 women, the body arrives at perfection much 
 sooner, as they arrive at the age of maturity 
 more early ; the muscles, and all the other 
 parts being weaker, less compact and solid, 
 than those of man, they require less time in 
 coming to perfection ; and, as they are less 
 in size, that size is sooner completed. Hence 
 the persons of women are found to be as com- 
 plete at twenty, as those of men are found to 
 be at thirty. 
 
 The body of a well-shaped man ought to 
 be square ; the muscles should be expressed 
 with boldness, and the lines of the face 
 strongly marked. In the woman, all the mus- 
 cles should be rounder, the lines softer, and 
 the features more delicate. Strength and 
 majesty belong to the man, grace and softness 
 are the peculiar embellishments of the other 
 sex. In both, every part of their form de- 
 clares their sovereignty over other creatures. 
 Man supports his body erect; his attitude is 
 that of command ; and his face, which is 
 turned towards the heavens, displays the 
 dignity of his station. The image of his soul 
 is painted in his visage ; and the. excellence 
 of his nature penetrates through the material 
 form in which it is enclosed. His majestic 
 port, his sedate and resolute step, announce 
 the nobleness of his rank. He touches the 
 earth only with his extremity; and beholds 
 it as if at a disdainful distance. His arms 
 are not given him, as to other creatures, for 
 pillars 01 support ; nor does he lose, by ren- 
 dering them callous against the ground, that 
 delicacy of touch which furnishes him with 
 so many of his enjoyments. His hands are 
 made for very different purposes; to second 
 every intention of his will, and to perfect the 
 gifts of Nature. 
 
 When the soul is at rest, all the features 
 of the visage seem settled in a state of pro- 
 found tranquillity. Their proportion, their 
 union, and their harmony, seem to mark the 
 sweet serenity of the mind, and give a true 
 information of what passes within. But, when 
 the soul is excited, the human visage becomes 
 a living picture ; where the passions are 
 expressed with as much delicacy as energy, 
 where every motion is designed by some 
 correspondent feature, where every impres- 
 sion anticipates the will, and betrays those 
 
 hidden agitations, that he would often wish 
 to conceal. 
 
 It is particularly in the eyes that the pas- 
 sions are painted ; and in which we may 
 most readily discover their beginning. The 
 eye seems to belong to the soul more than 
 any other organ ; it seems to participate of 
 all its emotions ; as well the most soft and 
 tender, as the most tumultuous and forceful. 
 It not only receives, but transmits them by 
 sympathy : the observing eye of one catches 
 the secret fire from another ; and the passion 
 thus often becomes general. 
 
 Such persons as are short-sighted labour 
 under a particular disadvantage in this re- 
 spect. They are, in a manner, entirely cut 
 off from the language of the eyes ; and this 
 gives an air of stupidity to the face, which 
 often produces very unfavourable preposses- 
 sions. However intelligent we find such 
 persons to be, we can scarcely be brought 
 back from our first prejudice, and often con- 
 tinue in the first erroneous opinion. In this 
 manner we are too much induced to judge 
 of men by their physiognomy; and having, 
 perhaps, at first, caught up our judgments 
 prematurely, they mechanically influence us 
 all our lives after. This extends even to the 
 very colour, or the cut of people's clothes ; 
 and we should, for this reason, be careful, 
 even in such trifling particulars, since they 
 go to make up a part of the total judgment 
 which those we converse with may form to 
 our advantage. 
 
 The vivacity, or the languid motion of the 
 eyes, give the strongest marks to physiog- 
 nomy; and their colour contributes still more 
 to enforce the expression. The different 
 colours of the eye are the dark hazle, the 
 light hazle, the green, the blue, and gray, 
 the whitish gray, " and also the red." These 
 different colours arise from the different 
 colours of the little muscles that serve to 
 contract the pupil; " and they are very often 
 found to change colour with disorder and 
 with age." 
 
 The most ordinary colours are the hazle 
 and the blue, and very often both these co- 
 lours are found in the eyes of the same per- 
 son. Those eyes which are called black are 
 only of the dark hnzle, which may be easily 
 seen upon closer inspection; however, those 
 
 '2 C* 
 
! 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 eyes aro reckoned the most beautiful where 
 die shade is the deepest ; and either in these, 
 or the blue eyes, the lire, which gives its 
 finest expression to the eye, is more distin- 
 guishable in proportion to the darkness of 
 the tint. For this reason, the black eyes, as 
 they are called, have the greatest vivacity; 
 but, probably, the blue have the most power- 
 ful effect in beauty, as they reflect a greater 
 variety of lights, being composed <5f more 
 various colours. 
 
 This variety, which is found in the colour 
 of the eyes, is peculiar to man, and one or two 
 other kinds of animals ; but, in general, the 
 colour in any one individual is the same in 
 all the rest. The eyes of oxen are brown ; 
 those of sheep of a water-colour; those of 
 goats are gray : " and it may also be, in ge- 
 neral, remarked, that the eyes of most white 
 animals are red ; thus the rabbit, the ferret, 
 and, even in the human race, the white Moor, 
 all have their eyes of a red colour." 
 
 Although the eye, when put into motion, 
 seems to be drawn on one side, yet it only 
 moves round the centre ; by which its co- 
 loured part moves nearer or farther from the 
 angle of the eye-lids, or is elevated or depres- 
 sed. The distance between the eyes is less 
 in man than in any other animal : and in some 
 of them it is so great, that it is impossible 
 that they should ever view the same object 
 with both eyes at once, unless it be very far 
 off! " This, however, in them, is rather an 
 advantage than an inconvenience, as they are 
 thus able to watch round them, and guard 
 against the dangers of their precarious situa- 
 tion." 
 
 Next to the eyes, the features, which most 
 give a character to the face, are the eye-brows; 
 which being, in some measure, more appa- 
 rent than the other features, are most readi- 
 ly distinguished at a distance. " Le Brun, 
 in giving a painter directions, with regard to 
 the passions, places the principal expression 
 of the face in the eye-brows. From their ele 
 vation and depression, most of the furious pas- 
 sions are characterized; and such as have 
 this feature extremely moveable, are usually 
 known to have an expressive face. By means 
 of these w r e can imitate all the other passions, 
 as they are raised or depressed at command ; 
 the rest of the features are generally fixed ; 
 
 or, when put into motion, they do not obey 
 the will : the mouth and eyes, in an actor, for 
 instance, may, by being violently distorted, 
 give a very different expression from what he 
 would intend ; but the eye-brows can scarce- 
 ly be exerted improperly ; their being raised, 
 denotes all those passions which pride or 
 pleasure inspire ; and their depression marks 
 those which are the effects of contemplation 
 and pain ; and such who have this feature, 
 therefore, most at command, are often found 
 to excel as actors." 
 
 The eye-lashes have an effect, in giving ex- 
 pression to the eye, particularly when long 
 and close : they soften its glances, and im- 
 prove its sweetness. Man and apes are the 
 only animals that have eye-lashes both upon 
 the upper and lower lids ; all other animals 
 want them on the lid below. 
 
 The eye-lids serve to guard the ball of the 
 eye, and to furnish it with a proper moisture. 
 The upper lid rises and falls ; the lower has 
 scarcely any motion; and although JbjeLrJbeing 
 moved depends on the will, yet it often hap- 
 pens that the will is unable to keep them 
 open, when sleep or fatigue oppresses the 
 mind. In birds and amphibious quadrupeds, 
 the lower lid alone has motion ; fishes and 
 insects have no eye-lids whatsoever. 
 
 The forehead makes a large part of the 
 face, and a part which chiefly contributes to 
 its beauty. It ought to be justly proportioned; 
 neither too round nor too flat ; neither too nar- 
 row nor too low ; and the hair should come 
 thick upon its extremities. It is known to 
 every body how much the hair tends to im- 
 prove the face ; and how much the being bald 
 serves to take away from beauty. The high- 
 est part of the head is that which becomes 
 bald the soonest, as well as that part which 
 lies immediately above the temples. The 
 hair under the temples, and at the back of the 
 head, is very seldom known to fail, " and 
 women are much less apt to become bald 
 than men. Mr. Buffbn seems to think they 
 never become bald at all ; but we have too 
 many instances of the contrary among us, not 
 to contradict very easily the assertion. Of all 
 parts or appendages of the body, the hair is 
 that which is found most different, in different 
 climates; and often not only contributes to 
 mark the country, but also the disposition of 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 143 
 
 the man. It is, in general, thickest where the 
 constitution is strongest; and more glossy, 
 and beautiful, where the health is most per- 
 manent. The ancients held the hair to be a 
 sort of excrement, produced like the nails; 
 the part next the root pushing out that im- 
 mediately contiguous. But the moderns have 
 found that every hair may be truly said to live, 
 to receive nutriment, to fill and distend itself, 
 like the other parts of the body. The roots, 
 they observe, do not turn gray sooner than 
 the extremities, but the whole hair changes 
 colour at once ; and we have many instances 
 of persons who have grown gray in one night's 
 time.' Each hair, if viewed with a microscope, 
 is found to consist of five or six lesser ones, 
 all wrapped up in one common covering; it 
 appears knotted, like some sorts of grass, and 
 sends forth branches at the joints. It is bul- 
 bous at the root, by which it imbibes its mois- 
 ture from the body : and it is split at the 
 points ; so that a single hair, at its end, re- 
 sembles a brush. Whatever be the size or 
 the shape of the pore, through which the hair 
 issues, it accommodates itself to the same ; 
 being either thick, as they are large ; small, 
 as they are less ; round, triangular, and vari- 
 ously formed, as the pores happen to be va- 
 rious. The hair takes its colour from the 
 juices flowing through it; and it is found that 
 this colour differs in different tribes and ra- 
 ces of people. The' Americans and the Asia- 
 tics have their hair black, thick, straight, and 
 shining. The inhabitants of the torrid cli- 
 mates of Africa have it black, short, and wool- 
 ly. The people of Scandinavia have it red, 
 long, and curled ; and those of our own, and 
 the neighbouring countries, are found with 
 hair of various colours. However, it is sup- 
 posed by many, that every man resembles in 
 his disposition the inhabitants of those coun- 
 tries whom he resembles in the colour and the 
 nature of his hair ; so that the black are said, 
 like the Asiatics, to be grave and acute ; the 
 red, like the Gothic nations, to be choleric 
 and bold. However this may be, the length 
 and the strength of the hair is a general mark 
 of a good constitution ; and, as that hair which 
 is strongest is most commonly curled, so curl- 
 ed hair is generally regarded among us as a 
 
 Mr. BufTon says, that the hair begins to grow gray 
 at the points ; but the fact is otherwise. 
 
 b Mr. Bullun is of this opinion. Ho says, that the up- 
 
 beauty. The Greeks, however, had a very 
 different idea of beauty in this respect; and 
 seem to have taken one of their peculiar na- 
 tional distinctions from the length and the 
 straightness of the hair." 
 
 The nose is the most prominent feature in 
 the face ; but, as it has scarcely any motion, 
 and that only in the strongest passions, it ra- 
 ther adds to the beauty than to the expres- 
 sion of the countenance. " However, I am told, 
 by the skilful in this branch of knowledge, 
 that wide nostrils add a great deal to the bold 
 and resolute air of the countenance ; and 
 where they are narrow, though it may con- 
 stitute beauty, it seldom improves expression." 
 The form of the nose, and its advanced posi- 
 tion, are peculiar to the human visage alone. 
 Other animals, for the most part, have nos- 
 trils, with a partition between them ; but none 
 of them have an elevated nose. Apes them- 
 selves have scarcely any thing else of this fea- 
 ture but the nostrils ; the rest of the feature 
 lying flat upon the visage, and scarcely higher 
 than the cheek-bones. " Among all the tribes 
 of the savage wen also, the nose is very flat ; 
 and I have seen a Tartar who had scarcely 
 any thing else but two holes through which to 
 breathe." 
 
 The mouth and lips, next to the eyes, are 
 found to have the greatest expression. The 
 passions have great power over this part of 
 the face ; and the mouth marks its different 
 degrees by its different forms. The organ of 
 speech still more animates this part, and gives 
 it more life than any other feature in the coun- 
 tenance. The ruby colour of the lips, and the 
 white enamel of the teeth, give it such a su- 
 periority over every other feature, that it 
 seems to make the principal object of our re- 
 gards. In fact, the whole attention is fixed 
 upon the lips of the speaker: however rapid 
 his discourse, however various the subject, 
 the mouth takes correspondent situations ; 
 and deaf men have been often found to see 
 the force of those reasonings which they could 
 not hear, understanding every word as it was 
 spoken. 
 
 "The under jaw in man possesses a great 
 variety of motions ; while the upper has been 
 thought, by many, to be quite immoveable." 
 
 per jaw is imiTioveahlc in all animals. However, the pat- 
 rot is an obvious exception ; and so is man himself, as 
 shown above. 
 
144 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 However, that it moves in man, a very easy 
 experiment will suffice to convince us. If we 
 keep the head fixed, with any thing between 
 our teeth, the edge of a table for instance, 
 and then open our mouths, we shall find that 
 both jaws recede from it at the same time; 
 the upper jaw rises, the lower falls, and the 
 table remains untouched between them. The 
 upper jaw has motion as well as the under; 
 and, what is remarkable, it has its proper 
 muscles behind the head for thus raising and 
 depressing it. Whenever, therefore, we eat, 
 both jaws move at the same time, though very 
 unequally; for the whole head moving with 
 the upper jaw, of which it makes a part, its 
 motions are thus less observable." In the hu- 
 man embryo, the under jaw is very much ad- 
 vanced before the upper. " In the adult, it 
 hangs a good deal more backward ; and those 
 whose upper and under row of teeth are equal- 
 ly prominent, and strike directly against each 
 other, are what the painters call under-hung ; 
 and they consider this as a great defect in 
 beauty." The under jaw in a Chinese face 
 falls greatly more backward than with us ; 
 and, I am told, the difference is half an inch, 
 when the mouth is shut naturally." In instan- 
 ces of the most violent passion, the under jaw 
 has often an involuntary quivering motion ; 
 and often, also, a state of languor produces 
 another, which is that of yawning. "Every 
 one knows how very sympathetic this kind 
 of languid motion is ; and that for one person 
 to yawn, is sufficient to set all the rest of the 
 company a yawning. A ridiculous instance 
 of this was commonly practised upon the fa- 
 mous M'Laurin, one of the professors at Edin- 
 burgh. He was very subject to have his jaw 
 dislocated; so that when he opened his mouth 
 wider than ordinary, or when he yawned, he 
 could not shut it again. In the midst of his 
 harangues, therefore, if any of his pupils be- 
 gan to be tired of his lecture, he had only to 
 gape or yawn, and the professor instantly 
 caught the sympathetic affection ; so that he 
 thus continued to stand speechless, with his 
 mouth wide open, till his servant, from the 
 next room, was called in to set his jaw again."" 
 When the mind reflects with regret upon 
 
 a Mr. Buffon says, that both jaws, in a perfect face, 
 should be on a level : but this is denied by the best 
 painters. 
 
 some good unattained or lost, it feels an inter- 
 nal emotion, which acting upon the diaphragm, 
 and that upon the lungs, produces a sigh; 
 this, when the mind is strongly affected, is re- 
 peated ; sorrow succeeds these first emotions, 
 and tears are often seen to follow : sobbing is 
 the sigh still more invigorated ; and lamen- 
 tation, or crying, proceeds from the con- 
 tinuance of the plaintive tone of the voice, 
 which seems to implore pity. " There is yet 
 a silent agony, in which the mind appears to 
 disdain all external help, and broods over its 
 distresses with gloomy reserve. This is the 
 most dangerous state of mind : accidents or 
 friendship may lessen the louder kindsof grief; 
 but all remedies for this must be had from 
 within ; and there despair too often finds the 
 most deadly enemy." 
 
 Laughter is a sound of the voice, interrupt- 
 ed and pursued for some continuance. The 
 muscles of the belly, and the diaphragm, are 
 employed in the slightest exertions ; but those 
 of the ribs are strongly agitated in the louder; 
 and the head sometimes is thrown backward, 
 in order to raise them with greater ease. 
 The smile is often an indication of kindness 
 and good-will : it is also often used as a mark 
 of contempt and ridicule. 
 
 Blushing proceeds from different passions ; 
 being produced by shame, anger, pride, and 
 joy. Paleness is often also the effect of an- 
 ger ; and almost ever attendant on fright and 
 fear. These alterations in the colour of the 
 countenance are entirely involuntary; all the 
 other expressions of the passions are, in some 
 small degree, under control; but blushing and 
 paleness betray our secret purposes ; and we 
 might as well attempt to stop them, as the 
 circulation of the blood, by which they are 
 caused. 
 
 The whole head, as well as the features of 
 the face, takes peculiar attitudes from its pas 
 sions : it bends forward, to express humility, 
 shame, or sorrow; it is turned to one side in 
 languor or in pity; it is thrown with the chin 
 forward in arrogance and pride; erect in 
 self-conceit and obstinacy ; it is thrown back- 
 wards in astonishment ; and combines its mo- 
 tion to the one side and the other, to express 
 
 [ b Since the publication of this work, the editor has been 
 credibly informed, that the professor had not the defect 
 here mentioned.] 
 

 ANIMALS. 
 
 145 
 
 contempt, ridicule, anger, and resentment. 
 "Painters, whose study leads to the contem- 
 plation of external forms, are much more ade- 
 quate judges of these than any naturalist can 
 be; and it is with these a general remark, 
 that no one passion is regularly expressed on 
 different countenances in the same manner; 
 but that grief often sits upon the face like joy; 
 and pride assumes the air of passion. It 
 would be vain, therefore, in words, to express 
 their general effect, since they are often as 
 various as the countenances they sit upon ; 
 and in making this distinction nicely, lies all 
 the skill of the physiognomist. In being able 
 to distinguish what part of the face is marked 
 by nature, and what by the mind ; what part 
 had been originally formed, and what is made 
 by habit, constitutes this science, upon which 
 the ancients so much valued themselves, and 
 which we at present so little regard. Some, 
 however, of the most acute men among us, 
 have paid great attention to this art ; and, by 
 long practice, have been able to give some 
 character of every person whose face they ex- 
 amined. Montaigne is well known to have 
 disliked those men who shut one eye in look- 
 ing upon any object ; and Fielding asserts, 
 that he never knew a person with a steady 
 glavering smile, but he found him a rogue. 
 However, most of these observations, tending 
 to a discovery of the mind by the face, are 
 merely capricious ; and Nature has kindly hid 
 our hearts from each other, to keep us in good 
 humour with our fellow-creatures." 
 
 The parts of the head which give the least 
 expression to the face, are the ears ; and they 
 are generally found hidden under the hair. 
 These, which are immoveable, and make so 
 small an appearance in man, are very distin- 
 guishing features in quadrupeds. They serve 
 in them as the principal marks of the passions; 
 the ears discover their joys or their terrors, 
 with tolerable pecision ; and denote all their 
 internal agitations. The smallest ears, in men, 
 are said to be most beautiful ; but the largest 
 are found the best for hearing. There are 
 some savage nations who bore their ears, and 
 so draw that part down, that the tips of the 
 ears are seen to rest upon their shoulders. 
 
 The strange variety of the different customs 
 of men, appears still more extravagant in their 
 manner of wearing their beards. Some, and 
 
 among others the Turks, cut the hair off* their 
 heads, and let their beards grow. The Eu- 
 ropeans, on the contrary, shave their beards, 
 and wear their hair. The Negroes shave 
 their heads in figures at one time, in stars af 
 another, in the manner of friars ; and still 
 morecommonly in alternate stripes ; and their 
 little boys are shaved in the same manner. 
 The Talapoins, of Siam, shave the heads and 
 the eye-brows of such children as are com- 
 mitted to their care. Every nation seems to 
 have entertained different prejudices, at dif- 
 ferent times, in favour of one part or another 
 of the beard. Some have admired the hair 
 upon the cheeks on each side, as we see with 
 some low-bred men among ourselves, who 
 want to be fine. Some like the hair lower 
 down ; some choose it curled ; and others 
 like it straight. " Some have cut it into a 
 peak ; and others shave all but the whisker. 
 This particular part of the beard was highly 
 prized among the Spaniards ; till of late, a 
 man without whiskers was considered as un- 
 fit for company ; and where Nature had de- 
 nied them, Art took care to supply the defi- 
 ciency. We are told of a Spanish 'general 
 who, when he borrowed a large sura of money 
 from the Venetians, pawned his whisker, 
 which he afterwards took proper care to re- 
 lease. Kingson assures us, that a considera- 
 ble part of the religion of the Tartars con- 
 sists in the management of their whiskers; and 
 that they waged a long and bloody war with 
 the Persians, declaring them infidels, merely 
 because they would not give their whiskers 
 the orthodox cut. The kings of Persia car- 
 ried the care of their beards to a ridiculous 
 excess, when they chose to wear them mat- 
 ted with gold thread : and even the kings ol 
 France, of the first races, had them knotted 
 and buttoned with gold. But of all nations, 
 the Americans take the greatest pains in cut 
 ting their hair, and plucking their beards. 
 The under part of the beard, and all but the 
 whisker, they take care to pluck up by the 
 roots, so that many have supposed them to 
 have no hair naturally growing on that part : 
 and even Linnaeus has fallen into that mistake. 
 Their hair is also cut into bands; and no 
 small care employed in adjusting the whisker. 
 In fact, we have a very wrong idea of savage 
 finery ; and are apt to suppose that, like the 
 
146 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 beasts of the forest, they rise, and are dres- 
 sed with a shake : but the reverse is true ; 
 for no birth-night beauty takes more time or 
 pains in the adorning her person than they. 
 I remember, when the Cherokee kings were 
 over here, that I have waited for three hours 
 during the time they were dressing. They 
 never would venture to make their appear- 
 ance till they had gone through the tedious 
 ceremonies of the toilet : they had their boxes 
 of oil and ochre, their fat. and their perfumes, 
 like the most effeminate beau, and generally 
 took up four hours in dressing, before they 
 considered themselves as fit to he seen. We 
 must not, therefore, consider a delicacy in 
 point of dress, as a mark of refinement, since 
 savages are much more difficult in this par- 
 ticular, than the most fashionable or tawdry 
 European. The more barbarous the people, 
 the fonder of finery. In Europe, the lustre of 
 jewels, and the splendour of the most brilliant 
 colours, are generally given up to women, or 
 to the weakest part of the other sex, who are 
 willing to be contemptibly fine : but in Asia, 
 these trifling fineries are eagerly sought after 
 by every condition of men ; and, as the pro- 
 verb has it, we find the richest jewels in an 
 jEthiop's ear. The passion for glittering or- 
 naments, is still stronger among the absolute 
 barbarians, who often exchange their whole 
 stock of provisions, and whatever else they 
 happen to be possessed of, with our seamen, 
 for a glass-bead, or a looking-glass." 
 
 Although fashions have arisen in different 
 countries from fancy and caprice, these, when 
 they become general, deserve examination. 
 Mankind have always considered it as a mat- 
 ter of moment, and they will ever continue 
 desirous of drawing the attention of each 
 other, by such ornaments as mark the riches, 
 the power, or the courage of the wearer. 
 The value of those shining stones which have 
 at all times been considered as precious or- 
 naments,is entirely founded upon their scarce- 
 ness or their brilliancy. It is the same like- 
 wise with respect to those shining metals, the 
 weight of which is so little regarded, when 
 spread over our clothes. These ornaments 
 are rather designed to draw the attention of 
 others, than to add to any enjoyments of our 
 own ; and few there are that these ornaments 
 will not serve to dazzle, and who can coolly 
 
 distinguish between the metal and the man. 
 
 All things rare and brilliant will, therefore, 
 ever continue to be fashionable, while men 
 derive greater advantage from opulence than 
 virtue ; while the means of appearing con- 
 siderable are more easily acquired, than the 
 title to be considered. The first impression 
 we generally make, arises from our dress ; 
 and this varies, in conformity to our inclina- 
 tions, and the manner in which we desire to 
 be considered. The modest man, or he who 
 would wish to be thought so, desires to show 
 the simplicity of his mind by the plainness 
 of his dress ; the vain man, on the contrary, 
 takes a pleasure in displaying his superiority, 
 " and is willing to incur the spectator's dis- 
 like, so he does but excite his attention." 
 
 Another point of view which men have in 
 dressing, is to increase the size of their figure ; 
 and to take up more room in the world than 
 Nature seems to have allotted them. We de- 
 sire to swell out our clothes by the stiffness 
 of art, and raise our heels, while we add to 
 the largeness of our heads. How bulky so- 
 ever our dress may be, our vanities are still 
 more bulky. The largeness of the doctor's 
 wig arises from the same pride with the small- 
 ness of the beau's queue. Both want to have 
 the size of their understanding measured by 
 the size of their heads. 
 
 There are some modes that seem to have 
 a more reasonable origin, which is to hide or 
 to lessen the defects of Nature. To take men 
 altogether, there are many more deformed 
 and plain, than beautiful and shapely. The 
 former, as being the most numerous, give law 
 to fashion ; and their laws are generally such 
 as are made in their own favour. The wo- 
 men begin to colour their cheeks with red, 
 when the natural roses are faded; and the 
 younger are obliged to submit, though not 
 compelled by the same necessity. In all parts 
 of the world, this custom prevails more or less; 
 and powdering and frizzing the hair, though 
 not so general, seems to have arisen from a 
 similar control. 
 
 But leaving the draperies of the human pic- 
 ture, let us return to the figure, unadorned by 
 art. Man's head, whether considered exter- 
 nally or internally, is differently formed from 
 that of all other animals, the monkey-kind 
 only excepted, in which there is a striking 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 147 
 
 similitude. There fire some differences, how- 
 ever, which we shall take notice of in ano- 
 ther place. The bodies of all quadruped ani- 
 mals are covered with hair ; but the head of 
 man seems the part most adorned ; and that 
 more abundantly than in any other animal. 
 
 There is a very great variety in the teeth 
 of all animals ; some have them above and 
 below ; others have them in the under jaw 
 only ; in some they stand separate from each 
 other ; while in some they are continued and 
 united. The palate of some fishes is nothing 
 else but a bony plate studded with points, 
 which perform the offices of teeth. All these 
 substances, in every animal, derive their ori- 
 gin from the nerves ; the substance of the 
 nerves hardens by being exposed to the air; 
 and the nerves that terminate in the mouth, 
 being thus exposed, acquire a bony solidity. 
 In this manner, the teeth and nails are formed 
 in man ; and in this manner, also, the beak, 
 the hoofs, the horns, and the talons, of other 
 animals, are found to be produced. 
 
 The neck supports the head, and unites it 
 to the body. This part is much more con- 
 siderable in the generality of quadrupeds, 
 than in man. But fishes, and other animals 
 that want lungs similar to ours, have no neck 
 whatsoever. Birds, in general, have the neck 
 longer than any other kind of animals : those 
 of them, which have short claws, have also 
 short necks ; those, on the contrary, that have 
 them long, are found to have the neck in pro- 
 portion. " In men, there is a lump upon the 
 wind-pipe, formed by the thyroid cartilage, 
 which is not to be seen in women ; an Arabi- 
 an fable says, that this is a part of the origi- 
 nal apple, that has stuck in the man's throat 
 by the way, but that the woman swallowed 
 her part of it down." 
 
 The human breast is outwardly formed in 
 a very different manner from that of other 
 animals. It is larger in proportion to the size 
 of the body ; and none but man, and such ani- 
 mals as make use of their fore feet as hands, 
 such as monkeys, bats, and squirrels, and 
 such quadrupeds as climb trees, are found to 
 have those bones called the clavicles, or, as 
 we usually term them, the collar-bones." 
 
 * Mr. Buffon says, that none but monkeys have them ; 
 hut this is an oversight. 
 
 The breasts in women are larger than in men; 
 however, they seem formed in the same man- 
 ner; and, sometimes, milk is found in the 
 breasts of men, as well as in those of women. 
 Among animals, there is a great variety in 
 this part of the body. The teats of some, as 
 in the ape and the elephant, are like those of 
 men, being but two, and placed on each side 
 of the breast. The teats of the bear amount 
 to four. The sheep has but two, placed 
 between the hinder legs. Other animals, 
 such as the bitch and the sow, have them all 
 along the belly ; and, as they produce many 
 young, they have a great many teats for their 
 support. The form also of the teats varies 
 in different animals ; and, in the same animal, 
 at different ages. The bosom in females, 
 seems to unite all our ideas of beauty, where 
 the outline is continually changing, and the 
 gradations are soft and regular. 
 
 " The graceful fall of the shoulders, both 
 in man and woman, constitute no small part 
 of beauty. In apes, though otherwise made 
 like us, the shoulders are high, and drawn up 
 on each side towards the ears. In man they 
 fall by a gentle declivity ; and the more so, 
 in proportion to the beauty of his form. In 
 fact, being high-shouldered, is not without rea- 
 son considered as a deformity, for we find very 
 sickly persons are always so ; and people, 
 when dying, are ever seen with their shoul- 
 ders drawn up in a surprising manner. The 
 muscles that serve to raise the ribs, mostly 
 rise near the shoulders : and the higher we 
 raise the shoulders, we the more easily raise 
 the ribs likewise. It happens, therefore, in 
 the sickly and the dying, who do not breathe 
 without labour, that to raise the ribs, they are 
 obliged to call in the assistance of the shoul- 
 ders; and thus their bodies assume, from ha- 
 bit, that form which they are so frequently 
 obliged to assume. Women with child also, 
 are usually seen to be high-shouldered ; for 
 the weight of the inferior parts drawing down 
 the ribs, they are obliged to use every effort 
 to elevate them, and thus they raise the shoul- 
 ders of course. During pregnancy, also, the 
 shape, not only of the shoulders, but also of 
 the breast, and even the features of the face, 
 are greatly altered : for the whole upper fore- 
 part of the body is covered with a broad thin 
 skin, called the myoides; which being, at 
 
148 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 that time, drawn down, it also draws down 
 with it the skin, and, consequently, the fea- 
 tures of the face. By these means the visage 
 takes a particular form ; the lower eye-lids, 
 and the corners of the mouth, are drawn down- 
 wards ; so that the eyes are enlarged, and the 
 mouth lengthened ; and women, in these cir- 
 cumstances, are said, by the midwives, to be 
 all mouth and eyes." 
 
 The arms of men but very little resemble 
 the fore feet of quadrupeds, and much less 
 the wings of birds. The ape is the only ani- 
 mal that is possessed of hands and arms ; but 
 these are much more rudely fashioned, and 
 with less exact proportion, than in men ; " the 
 thumb not being so well opposed to the rest 
 of the lingers, in their hands, as in ours." 
 
 The form of the back is not much different 
 in mail from that of other quadruped animals, 
 only that the reins are more muscular in him, 
 and stronger. The buttock, however, in man, 
 is different from that of all other animals 
 whatsoever. What goes by that name, in 
 other creatures, is only the upper part of the 
 thigh ; man being the only animal that sup- 
 ports himself perfectly erect, the largeness 
 of this part is owing to the peculiarity of his 
 position. 
 
 Man's feet, also, are different from those of 
 all other animals, those even of apes not ex- 
 cepted. The foot of the ape is rather a kind 
 of awkward hand ; its toes, or rather fingers, 
 are long, and that of the middle longest of all. 
 This foot also wants the heel, as in man ; the 
 sole is narrower, and less adapted to main- 
 tain the equilibrium of the body in walking, 
 dancing, or running. 
 
 The nails are less in man than in any other 
 animal. If they were much longer than the 
 extremities of the fingers, they would rather 
 be prejudicial than serviceable, and obstruct 
 the management of the hand. Such savages 
 as let them grow long, make use of them in 
 flaying animals, in tearing their flesh, and such 
 like purposes ; however, though their nails 
 are considerably larger than ours, they are 
 |jy no means to be compared to the hoofs or 
 the claws of other animals. "They may 
 sometimes be seen longer, indeed, than the 
 claws of any animal whatsoever ; as we learn 
 that the nails of some of the learned men in 
 China are longer than their fingers. But 
 
 these want that solidity which might give 
 force to their exertions ; and could never, in 
 a state of nature, have served them for an- 
 noyance or defence." 
 
 There is little known exactly with regard 
 to the proportion of the human figure ; and 
 the beauty of the best statues is better con- 
 ceived by observing than by measuring them. 
 The statues of antiquity, which were at first 
 copied after the human form, are now become 
 the models of it; nor is there one man fouiid 
 whose person approaches to those inimitable 
 performances, that have thus, in one figure, 
 united the perfections of many. It is suffici- 
 ent to say that, from being at first models, 
 they are now become originals ; and are used 
 to correct the deviations in that form from 
 whence they were taken. I will not, how- 
 ever, pretend to give the proportions of the 
 human body, as taken from these, there being 
 nothing more arbitrary, and which good pain- 
 ters themselves so much contemn. Some, for 
 instance, who have studied after these, divide 
 the body into ten times the length of the face, 
 and others into eight. Some pretend to tell 
 us, that there is a similitude of proportion in 
 different parts of the body. Thus, that the 
 hand is the length of the face ; the thumb the 
 length of the nose ; the space between the 
 eyes is the breadth of an eye ; that the breadth 
 of the thigh, at thickest, is double that of the 
 thickest part of the leg, and treble the small- 
 est ; that the arms extended, are as long as 
 the figure is high ; that the legs and thighs 
 are half the length of the figure. All this, how- 
 ever, is extremely arbitrary; and the excel- 
 lence of a shape, or the beauty of a statue, 
 results from the attitude and position of the 
 whole, rather than any established measure- 
 ments, begun without experience, and adopt- 
 ed by caprice. In general, it may be re- 
 marked, that the proportions alter in every 
 age, and are obviously different in the two 
 sexes. In women, the shoulders are narrow- 
 er, and the neck proportionably longer, than 
 in men. The hips also are considerably lar- 
 ger, and the thighs much shorter, than in men. 
 These proportions, however, vary greatly at 
 different ages. In infancy, the upper parts of 
 the body are much larger than the lower ; the 
 legs and thighs do not constitute any thing 
 like half the height of the wkole figure : in 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 1-19 
 
 proportion as the child increases in age, the 
 inferior parts are found to lengthen; so that 
 the body is not equally divided until it has 
 acquired its full growth. 
 
 The size of men varies considerably. Men 
 are said to be tall who are from five feet eight 
 inches to six feet high. The middle stature 
 is from five feet five to five feet eight : and 
 those are said to be of small stature who fall 
 under these measures. " However, it ought 
 to be remarked, that the same person is al- 
 ways taller when he arises in the morning, 
 than upon going to bed at night ; and some- 
 times there is an inch difference; and I have 
 seen more. Few persons are sensible of this 
 remarkable variation; and I am told, it was 
 first perceived, in England, by a recruiting 
 officer. He often found that those men whom 
 he had enlisted for soldiers, and answered to 
 the appointed standard at one time, fell short 
 of it when they came to be measured before 
 the colonel, at the head-quarters. This di- 
 minution in their size proceeded from the dif- 
 ferent times of the day, and the different states 
 of the body, when they happened to be mea- 
 sured. If, as was said, they were measured 
 in the morning, after the night's refreshment, 
 they were found to be commonly half an inch, 
 and very often a whole inch, taller than if 
 measured after the fatigues of the day ; if they 
 were measured when fresh in the country, 
 and before a long fatiguing march to the re- 
 giment, they were found to be an inch taller 
 than when they arrived at their journey's end. 
 All this is now well known among those who 
 recruit for the army, and the reason of this 
 difference of stature is obvious. Between all 
 the joints of the back-bone, which is compo- 
 sed of several pieces, there is a glutinous li- 
 quor deposited, which serves, like oil in a 
 , machine, to give the parts an easy play upon 
 each other. This lubricating liquor, or sy- 
 novia, as the anatomists call it, is poured in 
 during the season of repose, and is consumed 
 by exercise and employment; so that in a 
 body, after hard labour, there is scarce any 
 of it remaining; but all the joints grow stiff, 
 and their motion becomes hard and painful. 
 It is from hence, therefore, that the body di- 
 minishes in stature. For this moisture being 
 drained away from between the numerous 
 joints of the back-bone, they lie closer upon ! 
 
 each other; and their whole length is thus 
 very sensibly diminished ; but sleep, by re- 
 storing the lluid again, swells the spaces be- 
 tween the joints, and the whole is extended 
 to its former dimensions. 
 
 " As the human body is thus often found to 
 differ from itself in size, so it is found to dif- 
 fer in its weight also; and the same person, 
 without any apparent cause, is found to be 
 heavier at one time than another. If, after 
 having eaten a hearty dinner, or having drunk 
 hard, the person should find himself thus hea- 
 vier, it would appear no way extraordinary ; 
 but the fact is, the body is very often Ibuud 
 heavier some hours after eating a hearty meal 
 than immediately succeeding it. If, for in- 
 stance, a person, fatigued by a day's hard la- 
 bour, should eat a plentiful supper, and then 
 get himself weighed upon going to bed; after 
 sleeping soundly, if he is again weighed, he 
 will find himself considerably .heavier than 
 before ; and this difference is often found to 
 amount to a pound, or sometimes to a pound 
 and a half. From whence his adventitious 
 weight is derived is not easy to conceive; 
 the body, during the whole night, appears ra- 
 ther plentifully perspiring than imbibing any 
 fluid, rather losing than gaining moisture : 
 however, we have no reason to doubt, but that 
 either by the lungs, or perhaps, by a pecu- 
 liar set of pores, it is all this time inhaling a 
 quantity of fluid, which thus increases, the 
 weight of the whole body, upon being weigh- 
 ed the next morning." 11 
 
 Although the human body is externally 
 more delicate than any of the quadruped kind, 
 it is, notwithstanding, extremely muscular; 
 and, perhaps, for its size, stronger than that 
 of any other animal. If we should offer to 
 compare the strength of the lion with that of 
 man, we should consider that the claws of 
 this animal, give us a false idea of its power ; 
 we ascribe to its force what is only the effects 
 of its arms. Those which man has received 
 from Nature are not offensive ; happy had Art 
 never furnished him with any more terrible 
 than those which arm the paws of the 
 lion ! 
 
 a From the experiment also, the learned may gather 
 upon what a weak foundation the whole doctrine of'Sanc- 
 torian perspiration is built: but this disquisition more pro- 
 perly belongs to medicine than natural history. 
 2F* 
 
A HISTORY OF 
 
 But there is another manner' 1 of comparing 
 the strength of man with that of other ani- 
 mals ; namely, by the weights which either can 
 carry. We are assured that the porters of 
 Constantinople carry burdens of nine hun- 
 dred pounds weight. Mr. Desaguliers tells us 
 of a man, who by distributing weights in such 
 a manner, as that every part of his body bore 
 its share, was thus able to raise a weight of two 
 thousand pounds. A horse, which is about 
 seven times our bulk, would be thus able to 
 raise a weight of fourteen thousand pounds, if 
 its strength were in the same proportion. 11 
 " But, the truth is, a horse will not carry upon 
 its back above a weight of two or three hun- 
 dred pounds ; while a man, of confessedly in- 
 ferior strength, is thus able to support two 
 thousand. Whence comes this seeming su- 
 periority ? The answer is obvious. Because 
 the load upon the man's shoulders is placed to 
 the greatest advantage ; while, upon the horse's 
 back, it is placed at the greatest disadvantage. 
 Let us suppose, for a moment, the man stand- 
 ing as upright as possible, under the great load 
 above mentioned. It is obvious .that all the 
 bones of his body may be compared to a pil- 
 lar supporting a building, and that his muscles 
 have scarce any share in this dangerous duty. 
 However, they are not entirely inactive; as 
 man, let him stand never so upright, will have 
 some bending in different parts of his body. 
 The muscles, therefore, give the bones some 
 assistance, and that with the greatest possible 
 advantage. In this manner, a man has been 
 found to support two thousand weight ; but 
 may be capable of supporting a still greater. 
 The manner in which this is done, is by strap- 
 ping the load round the shoulders of the per- 
 son who is to bear it, by a machine something 
 like that by which milk vessels or water- 
 buckets are carried. The load being thus 
 placed on a scaffold, on each side, contrived 
 for that purpose, and the man standing erect 
 in the midst, all parts of the scaffold, except 
 that where the man stands, arc made to sink ; 
 and thus the man maintaining his position, the 
 load, whatever it is, becomes suspended, and 
 the column of his bones may be fairly said to 
 support it. If, however, he should but ever 
 so little give way, he must inevitably drop ; 
 
 * 
 
 a Mr. Buflbn calls it a better manner; but this is not 
 the case. 
 
 and no power of his can raise the weights 
 again. But the case is very different with re- 
 gard to a load laid upon a horse. The 
 column of the bones there lies a different way ; 
 and a weight of five hundred pounds, as I am 
 told, would break the back of the strongest 
 horse that could be found. The great force 
 of a horse, and other quadrupeds, is exerted 
 when the load is in such a position as that the 
 column of the bones can be properly applied, 
 which is lengthwise. When, therefore, we are 
 to estimate the comparative strength of a horse, 
 we are not to try what he can carry, but 
 what he can draw ; and, in this case, his ama- 
 zing superiority over man is easily discerned ; 
 for one horse can draw a load that ten men 
 cannot move. And, in some cases, it happens 
 that a draft-horse draws the better for being 
 somewhat loaded ; for, as the peasants say, 
 the load upon the back keeps him the better 
 to the ground." 
 
 There is still another way of estimating hu- 
 man strength, by the perseverance and agility 
 of our motions. Men, who are exercised in 
 running, outstrip horses ; or, at least, hold 
 their speed for a longer continuance. In a 
 journey, also, a man will walk down a horse ; 
 and, after they have both continued to proceed 
 for several days, the horse will be quite tired, 
 and the man will be fresher than in the begin- 
 ning. The king's messengers of Ispahan, who 
 are runners by profession, go thirty-six leagues 
 in fourteen hours. Travellers assure us, that 
 the Hottentots outstrip lions in the chase ; and 
 that the savages, who hunt the elk, pursue 
 with such speed, that they at last tire down 
 and take it. We are told many very surprising 
 things of the great swiftness of the savages, 
 and of the long journeys they undertake, on 
 foot, through the most craggy mountains, 
 where there are no paths to direct, nor houses 
 to entertain them. They are said to perform a 
 journey of twelve hundred leagues in less than 
 six weeks. " But notwithstanding what tra- 
 vellers report of this matter, I have been as- 
 sured, from many of our officers and soldiers, 
 who compared their own swiftness with that 
 of the native Americans, during the last war, 
 that although the savages held out, and, as 
 the phrase is, had better bottoms, yet, for a 
 
 b Mr. Buflbn carries this subject no farther ; and thus 
 far, without explanation, it is erroneous. 
 
OF ANIMALS. 
 
 151 
 
 spurt, the Englishmen were more nimble and 
 speedy." 
 
 Nevertheless, in general, civilized man is 
 ignorant of his own powers : he is ignorant 
 how much he loses by effeminacy ; and what 
 might be acquired by habit and exercise. Here 
 and there, indeed, men are found among us 
 of extraordinary strength; but that strength, 
 for want of opportunity, is seldom called into 
 exertion. " Among the ancients it was a qua- 
 lity of nuch greater use than at present ; as in 
 wur, the same man that had strength sufficient 
 to carry the heaviest armour, had strength 
 sufficient also to strike the most fatal blow. 
 In this case, his strength was at once his pro- 
 tection and his power. We ought not to be 
 surprised, therefore, when we hear of one man 
 terrible to an army, and irresistible in his ca- 
 reer, as we find some generals represented in 
 ancient history. But we may be very certain 
 that this prowess was exaggerated by flattery, 
 and exalted by terror. An age of ignorance 
 is ever an age of wonder. At such times, 
 mankind, having no just ideas of the human 
 powers, are willing rather to represent what 
 they wish, than what they know ; and exalt 
 human strength, to fill up the whole sphere of 
 their limited conceptions. Great strength is 
 an accidental thing ; two or three in a coun- 
 try may possess it ; and these may have a 
 claim to heroism. But what may lead us to 
 doubt of the veracity of these accounts is, that 
 the heroes of antiquity are represented as the 
 sons of heroes ; their amazing strength is de- 
 livered down from father to son ; and this we 
 know to be contrary to the course of nature. 
 Strength is not hereditary, although titles are : 
 and I am very much induced to believe, that 
 this great tribe of heroes, who are all repre- 
 sented as the descendants of heroes, are more 
 obliged to their titles than to their strength, 
 for their characters. With regard to the 
 shining characters in Homer, they are all re- 
 presented as princes, and as the sons of princes ; 
 while we are told of scarce any share of 
 prowess in the meaner men of the army ; who 
 are only brought into the field for these to pro- 
 tect, or to slaughter. But nothing can be 
 more unlikely than that those men, who were 
 bred in the luxury of courts, should be strong ; 
 while the whole body of the people, who re- 
 ceived a plainer and simpler education, should 
 be comparatively weak. Nothing can be 
 
 more contrary to the general laws of nature, 
 than that all the sons of heroes should thus in- 
 herit not only the kingdoms, but the strength 
 of their forefathers; and we may conclude, 
 that they owe the greatest share of their im- 
 puted strength rather to the dignity of their sta- 
 tions than the force of their arms ; and, like 
 all fortunate princes, their flatterers happened 
 to be believed. In later ages, indeed, we have 
 some accounts of amazing strength, which we 
 can have no reason to doubt of. But in these, 
 nature is found to pursue her ordinary course ; 
 and we find their strength accidental. We 
 find these strong men among the lowest of the 
 people, and gradually rising into notice, as 
 this superiority had more opportunity of being 
 seen. Of this number was the Roman tribune, 
 who went by the name of the second Achilles : 
 who, with his own hand, is said to have killed, 
 at different times, three hundred of the enemy; 
 and when treacherously set upon, by twenty- 
 five of his own countrymen, although then 
 past his sixtieth year, killed fourteen of them 
 before he was slain. Of this number was 
 Milo, who, when he stood upright, could not 
 be forced out of his place. Pliny tells us of 
 one Athanatus, who walked across the stage 
 at Rome, loaded with a breastplate weighing 
 five hundred pounds, and buskins of the same 
 weight. But of all the prodigies of strength, 
 of whom we have any accounts in Roman 
 history, Maximin, the emperor, is to be reckon- 
 ed the foremost. Whatever we are told rela- 
 tive to him is well attested ; his character was 
 too exalted not to be thoroughly known ; and 
 that very strength, for which he was celebrated, 
 at last procured him no less a reward than the 
 empire of the world. Maximin was above 
 nine feet in height, and the best proportioned 
 man in the whole empire. He was by birth 
 a Thracian; and, from being a simple herds- 
 man, rose through the gradations of office, 
 until he came to be emperor of Rome. The 
 first opportunity he had of exerting hisstrength, 
 was in the presence of all the citizens, in the 
 theatre, where he overthrew twelve of the 
 strongest men in wrestling, and outstrip! two 
 of the fleetest horses in running, all in one day. 
 He could draw a chariot loaden, that two 
 strong hordes could not move : he could break 
 a horse's jaw with a blow of his fist, and its 
 thigh with a kick. In war he was always 
 foremost and invincible : happy had it been 
 
152 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 for him and his subjects if, from being formi- 
 dable to his enemies, he had not brconic still 
 more so to his subjects ; he reigned, for some 
 time, with all the world his enemy ; all man- 
 kind wishing him dead, yet none daring to 
 strike the blow. As if fortune had resolved 
 that through life he should continue uncon- 
 querable, he was killed at last by his own sol- 
 diers while he was sleeping. We have many 
 other instances, in later ages, of very great 
 strength, and not fewer of amazing swiftness : 
 but these, .merely corporeal perfections, are 
 now considered as of small advantage, either 
 in war or in peace. The invention of gun- 
 powder has, in some measure, levelled all 
 force to one standard ; and has wrought a 
 total change in martial education through all 
 parts of the world. In peace also the inven- 
 tion of new machines every day, and the ap- 
 plication of the strength of the lower animals 
 to the purposes of life, have rendered human 
 strength less valuable. The boast of corporeal 
 force is, therefore, consigned to savage nations, 
 where those arts not being introduced, it may 
 still be needful ; but, in more polite countries, 
 few will be proud of that strength which other 
 animals can be taught to exert to as useful 
 purposes as they. 
 
 " If we compare the largeness and thickness 
 of our muscles with those of any other animal, 
 we shall find that, in this respect, we have the 
 advantage ; and if strength, or swiftness, de- 
 pended upon the quantity of muscular flesh 
 nlonc, I believe that, in this respect, we should 
 be more active and powerful than any other. 
 But this is not the case ; a great deal more 
 than the size of the muscles goes to constitute 
 activity or force ; and it is not he who has the 
 thiekestlegs that can make the best use of them. 
 Those, therefore, who have written elaborate 
 treatises on muscular force, and have estimated 
 the strength of animals by the thickness of 
 their muscles, have been employed to very 
 little purpose. It is in general observed, that 
 thin and raw-boned men are always stronger 
 
 and more powerful, than such as are seem- 
 ingly more muscular ; as in the former all 
 the parts have better room for their ex- 
 ertions." 
 
 Women want much of the strength of men ; 
 and, in some countries, the stronger sex have 
 availed themselves of this superiority, in cruelly 
 and tyrannically enslaving those who were 
 made with equal pretensions to a share in all 
 the advantages life can bestow. Savage na- 
 tions oblige their women to a life of continual 
 labour ; upon them rest all the drudgeries of 
 domestic duty ; while the husband, indolently 
 reclined in his hammock, is first served from 
 the fruits of her industry. From this negli- 
 gent situation he is seldom roused, except by 
 the calls of appetite, when it is necessary, either 
 by fishing or hunting, to make a variety in his 
 entertainments. A savage has no idea of 
 taking pleasure in exercise ; he is surprised to 
 see an European walk forward for his amuse- 
 ment, and then return back again. As for his 
 part, he could be contented to remain for ever 
 in the same situation, perfectly satisfied with 
 sensual pleasures and undisturbed repose. The 
 women of these countries are the greatest 
 slaves upon earth : sensible of their weakness ; 
 and unable to resist, they are obliged to suffer 
 those hardships which are naturally inflicted 
 by such as have been taught that nothing but 
 corporeal force ought to give pre-eminence. 
 It is not, therefore, till after some degree of 
 refinement, that women are treated with 
 lenity ; and not till the highest degree of po- 
 liteness, that they are permitted to share in all 
 the privileges of man. The first impulse of 
 savage nature is to confirm their slavery ; the 
 next of half barbarous nations, is to appropriate 
 their beauty ; and that of the perfectly polite, 
 to engage their affections. In civilized coun- 
 tries, therefore, women have united the force 
 of modesty to the power of their natural 
 charms; and thus obtain that superiority over 
 the mind, which they are unable to extort by 
 their strength. 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 153 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 OF SLEEP AND HUNGER. 
 
 AS man, in all the privileges he enjoys, and 
 the powers he is invested with, has a superi- 
 ority over all other animals, so, in his necessities, 
 he seems inferior to the meanest of them all. 
 Nature has brought him into life with a greater 
 variety of wants and infir siities than the rest 
 of her creatures, unarmed in the midst of ene- 
 mies. The lion has natural arms; th:- l>< ar 
 natural clothing ; but man is destitute of all 
 such advantages ; and, from the superiority of 
 his mind alone, he is to supply the deficiency. 
 The number of his wants, however, were 
 merely given, in order to multiply the number 
 of his enjoyments ; since the possibility of be- 
 ing deprived of any good, teaches him the value 
 of its possession. Were .HMD born with those 
 advantages which he learns to possess by in- 
 clu*try, he would very probably enjoy them 
 with a blunter relish ; it is by being naked, 
 that he knows the value of a covering ; it is by 
 being exposed to the weather, that he learns 
 the comforts of an habitation. Every want 
 thus becomes a means of pleasure, in the re- 
 dressing; and the animal that has most desires, 
 may be said to be capable of the greatest 
 variety of happiness. 
 
 Beside the thousand imaginary wants pecu- 
 liar to man, there are two, which he has in 
 common with all other animals ; and which he 
 feels in a more necessary manner than they. 
 These are the wants of sleep and hunger. 
 Every animal that we are acquainted with, 
 seems to endure the want of these with much 
 less injury to health than man ; and some are j 
 most surprisingly patient in sustaining both. 
 The little domestic animals that we keep about 
 us, may often set a lesson of calm resignation, 
 in supporting want and watchfulness, to the 
 boasted philosopher. They receive their pit- 
 tance at uncertain intervals, and wait its coming j 
 with cheerful expectation. We have instances j 
 of the dog and the cat living in this manner, 
 without food, for several days ; and yet still ! 
 preserving their attachment to the tyrant that 
 oppresses them ; still ready to exert their little 
 
 services for his amusement or defence. But 
 the patience of these is nothing, to what the 
 animals of the forest endure. As these mostly 
 live upon accidental carnage, so they are often 
 known to remain without food for several 
 weeks together. Nature, kindly solicitous for 
 their support, has also contracted their sto- 
 machs, to suit them for their precarious way 
 of living: and kindly, while it abridges the 
 banquet, lessens the necessity of providing for 
 it. But the meaner tribes of animals are made 
 still more capable of sustaining life without food, 
 many of them remaining in a state of torpid 
 indifference, till their prey approaches, when 
 j they jump upon and seize it. In this manner 
 the snake, or the spider, continue, for several 
 months together, to subsist upon a single meal ; 
 and some of the butterfly kinds live upon little 
 or nothing. But it is very different with man : 
 his wants daily make their importunate de- 
 mands ; and it is known, that he cannot con- 
 tinue to live many days without eating, drink- 
 ing, and sleeping. 
 
 Hunger is a much more powerful enemy to 
 man than watchfulness, and kills him much 
 sooner. It may be considered as a disorder 
 that food removes ; and that would quickly be 
 fatal, without its proper antidote. In fact, it is 
 so terrible to man, that to avoid it he even en- 
 counters certain death ; and, rather than en- 
 dure its tortures, exchanges them for immediate 
 destruction. However, by what I have been 
 told, it is much more dreadful in its approaches, 
 than in its continuance ; and the pains of a 
 famishing wretch decrease, as his strength di- 
 minishes. In the beginning, the desire of food 
 ! is dreadful indeed, as we know by experience, 
 for there are few who have not in some degree, 
 felt its approaches. But, after the first or 
 second day, its tortures become less terrible, 
 and a total insensibility at length comes kindly 
 in to the poor wretch's assistance. I have 
 talked with the captain of a ship, who was one 
 of six that endured it in its extremities ; and 
 who was the only person that had not lost his 
 
154 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 senses, when they received accidental relief. 
 He assured me, his pains, at first, were so great, 
 as to be often tempted to eat a part of one of 
 the men who died ; and which the rest of his 
 crew actually for some time lived upon : he 
 said, that during the continuance of this pa- 
 roxysm, he found his pains insupportable ; and 
 was desirous, at one time, of anticipating that 
 death which he thought inevitable : but his 
 pains, he said, gradually decreased after the 
 sixth day, (for they had water in the ship, 
 which kept them alive so long,) and then he 
 was in a state rather of languor than desire ; 
 nor did he much wish for food, except when 
 he saw others eating ; and that for a while 
 revived his appetite, though with diminished 
 importunity. The latter part of the time, 
 when his health was almost destroyed, a thou- 
 sand strange images rose upon his mind ; and 
 every one of his senses began to bring him 
 wrong information. The most fragrant per- 
 fumes appeared to him to have a foetid smell; 
 and every thing he looked at took a greenish 
 hue, and sometimes a yellow. When he was 
 presented with food by the ship's company that 
 took him and his men up, four of whom died 
 shortly after, he could not help looking upon 
 it with loathing, instead of desire ; and it was 
 not till after four days, that his stomach was 
 brought to its natural tone, when the violence 
 of his appetite returned, with a sort of canine 
 eagerness. 
 
 Thus dreadful are the effects of hunger ; and 
 yet when we come to assign the cause that 
 produces them, we find the subject involved in 
 doubt and intricacy. This longing eagerness 
 is, no doubt, given for a very obvious purpose ; 
 that of replenishing the body, wasted by fatigue 
 and perspiration. Were not men stimulated 
 by such a pressing monitor, they might be apt 
 to pursue other amusements, with a persever- 
 ance beyond their power; and forget the useful 
 hours of refreshment, in those more tempting 
 ones of pleasure. But hunger makes a demand 
 that will not be refused ; and, indeed, the 
 generality of mankind seldom await the call. 
 
 Hunger has been supposed by some to arise 
 from the rubbing of the coats of the stomach 
 against each other, without having any inter- 
 vening substance to prevent their painful attri- 
 tion. Others have imagined, that its juices, 
 wanting their necessary supply, turn acrid, or, 
 as some say, pungent ; and thus fret its internal 
 
 coats, so as to produce a train of the most 
 uneasy sensations. Boerhaave, who establish- 
 ed his reputation in physic, by uniting the 
 conjectures of all thoae that preceded him, 
 ascribes hunger to the united effect of both 
 these causes; and asserts, that the pungency 
 of the gastric juices, and the attrition of its 
 coats against each other, cause those pains, 
 which nothing but food can remove. These 
 juices continuing still to be separated in the 
 stomach, and every moment becoming more 
 acrid, mix with the blood, and infect the cir- 
 culation : the circulation being thus contami- 
 nated, becomes weaker, and more contracted ; 
 and the whole nervous frame sympathizing, an 
 hectic fever, and sometimes madness, is pro- 
 duced ; in which state the faint wretch expires. 
 In this manner, the man who dies of hunger, 
 may be said to be poisoned by the juices of his 
 own body ; and is destroyed less by the want of 
 nourishment, than by the vitiated qualities of 
 that which he had already taken. 
 
 However this may be, we have but few in- 
 stances of men dying, except at sea, of abso- 
 lute hunger. The decline of those unhappy 
 creatures who are destitute of food, at land, 
 bt-ing more slow and unperceived. These, 
 from often being in need, and as often receiv- 
 ing an accidental supply, pass their lives be- 
 tween surfeiting and repining ; and UK ir con- 
 stitution is impaired by insensible degrees. 
 Man is unfit for a state of precarious expecta- 
 tion. That share of provident precaution 
 which incites him to lay up stores for a distant 
 day, becomes his torment, when totally unpro- 
 vided against an immediate call. The lower 
 race of animals, when satisfied, for the instant 
 moment, are perfectly happy : but it is other- 
 wise with man ; his mind anticipates distress, 
 and feels the pangs of want even before it ar- 
 rests him. Thus the mind being continually 
 harassed by the situation, it at length influen- 
 ces the constitution, and unfits it for all its func- 
 tions. Some cruel disorder, but no way like 
 hunger, seizes the unhappy sufferer ; so that 
 almost all those men who have thus long lived 
 by chance, and whose every day may be con- 
 sidered as an happy escape from famine, are 
 known at last to die in reality of a disorder 
 caused by hunger ; but which, in the common 
 language, is often called a broken heart. Some 
 of these I have known myself, when very lit- 
 tle able to relieve them : and I have been told, 
 
OF ANIMALS. 
 
 155 
 
 by a very active and worthy magistrate, that 
 the number of such as die in London for want, 
 is much greater than one would imagine I 
 think he talked of two thousand in a year! 
 
 But how numerous soever those who die of 
 hunger may be, many times greater, on the 
 other hand, are the number of those who die 
 by repletion. It is not the province of the pre- 
 sent page to speculate, with the physician, upon 
 the danger of surfeits ; or, with the moralist, 
 upon the nauseousness of gluttony : it will 
 only be proper to observe, that as nothing is so 
 prejudicial to health as hunger by constraint, 
 so nothing is more beneficial to the constitu- 
 tion than voluntary abstinence. It was not 
 without reason that religion enjoined this duty ; 
 since it answered the double purpose of re- 
 storing the health oppressed by luxury, and di- 
 minished the consumption of provisions, so 
 that a part might come to the poor. It should 
 be the business of the legislature, therefore, to 
 enforce this divine precept ; and thus, by re- 
 straining one part of mankind in the use of 
 their superfluities, to consult for the benefit of 
 those who want the necessaries of life. The 
 injunctions for abstinence are strict over the 
 whole Continent ; ajid where rigorously obser- 
 ved even among ourselves, for a long time af- 
 ter the Reformation. Queen Elizabeth, by 
 giving her commands upon this head the air of 
 a political injunction, lessened, in a great mea- 
 sure, and in my opinion very unwisely, the re- 
 ligious force of the obligation. She enjoined 
 that her subjects should fast from flesh on Fri- 
 days and Saturdays ; but at the same time de- 
 clared, that this was not commanded from mo- 
 tives of religion, as if there were any differences 
 in meats, but merely to favour the consumpti- 
 on offish, and thus to multiply the number of 
 mariners ; and also to spare the stock of sheep, 
 which might be more beneficial in another way. 
 In this manner the injunction defeated its own 
 force ; and this most salutary law became no 
 longer binding, when it was supposed to come 
 purely from man. How far it may be enjoin- 
 ed in the Scriptures, I will not take upon me 
 to say ; but this may be asserted, that if the 
 utmost benefit to the individual, and the most 
 extensive advantage to society, serve to mark 
 any institution as of Heaven, this of abstinence 
 may be reckoned among the foremost. 
 
 Were we to give an history of the various 
 benefits that have arisen from this command, 
 
 and how conducive it has been to long life, the 
 instances would fatigue with their multiplicity. 
 It is surprising to what a great age the primi- 
 tive Christians of the East, who retired from 
 persecution in the deserts of Arabia, continued 
 to live, in all the bloom of health, and yet all 
 the rigours of abstemious discipline. Their 
 common allowance, as we arc told, for four 
 and twenty hours, was twelve ounces of bread, 
 and nothing but water. On this simple beve- 
 rage, St. Anthony is said to have lived a hun- 
 dred and five years ; James, the hermit, an hun- 
 dred and four ; Arsenius, tutor to the emperor 
 Arcadius, an hundred and twenty ; St. Epipha- 
 nius, an hundred and fifteen ; Simeon, an 
 hundred and twelve ; and Rombald, an hun- 
 dred and twenty. In this manner did these 
 holy temperate men live to an extreme old age, 
 kept cheerful by strong hopes, and healthful by 
 moderate labour. 
 
 Abstinence, which is thus voluntary, may be 
 much more easily supported than constrained 
 hunger. Man is said to live without food for 
 seven days ; which is the usual limit assigned 
 him ; and, perhaps, in a state of constraint, this 
 is the longest time he can survive the want of 
 it. But in cases of voluntary abstinence, of 
 sickness, or sleeping, he has been known to 
 live much longer. 
 
 In the records of the Tower, there is an ac- 
 count of a Scotchman, imprisoned for felony, 
 who for the space of six weeks took not the 
 least sustenance, being exactly watched during 
 the whole time ; and for this he received the 
 king's pardon. 
 
 When the American Indians undertake long 
 journeys, and when, consequently, a stock of 
 provisions sufficient to support them the whole 
 way, would be more than they could carry ; 
 in order to obviate this inconvenience, instead 
 of carrying the necessary quantity, they con- 
 trive a method of palliating their hunger, by 
 swallowing pills, made of calcined shells and 
 tobacco. These pills take away all appetite, 
 by producing a temporary disorder in the sto- 
 mach ; and, no doubt, the frequent repetition 
 of this wretched expedient must at last be fa- 
 tal. By these means, however, they continue 
 several days without eating, cheerfully bearing 
 such extremes of fatigue and watching, as 
 would quickly destroy men bred up in a grea- 
 ter state of delicacy. For those arts by which 
 we learn to obviate our necessities, do not 
 
 2G 
 
156 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 fail to unfit us for their accidental encoun- 
 ter. 
 
 Upon the whole, therefore, man is less able 
 to support hunger than any'other animal ; and 
 he is not better qualified to support a state of 
 watchfulness. Indeed, sleep seems much 
 more necessary to him, than to any other crea- 
 ture : as, when awake, he may be said to ex- 
 haust a greater proportion of the nervous fluid ; 
 and, consequently, to stand in need of an ade- 
 quate supply. Other animals, when most 
 awake, are but little removed from a state of 
 slumber ; their feeble faculties, imprisoned in 
 matter, and rather exerted by impulse than de- 
 liberation, require sleep, rather as a cessation 
 from motion, than from thinking. But it is 
 otherwise with man ; his ideas, fatigued with 
 their various excursions, demand a cessation, 
 not less than the body, from toil : and he is 
 the only creature that seems to require sleep 
 from double motives ; not less for the refresh- 
 ment of the mental, than of the bodily frame. 
 
 There are some lower animals, indeed, that 
 seem to spend the greatest part of their lives 
 in sleep ; but, properly speaking, the sleep of 
 such may be considered as a kind of death ; 
 and their waking, a resurrection. Flies, and 
 insects, are said to be asleep, at a time that all 
 the vital motions have ceased, without res- 
 piration, without any circulation of their juices; 
 if cut in pieces, they do not awake, nor does 
 any fluid ooze out at the wound. These may 
 be considered rather as congealed than as 
 sleeping animals ; and their rest, during win- 
 ter, rather as a cessation from life, than a ne- 
 cessary refreshment ; but in the higher races of 
 animals, whose blood is not thus congealed, 
 and thawed by heat, these all bear the want 
 of sleep much better than man ; and some of 
 them continue a long time without seeming to 
 take any refreshment from it whatsoever. 
 
 But man is more feeble ; he requires its due 
 return ; and if it fails to pay the accustomed 
 visit, his whole frame is in a short time thrown 
 into disorder : his appetite ceases ; his spirits 
 are dejected ; his pulse becomes quicker and 
 harder ; and his mind, abridged of its slumber- 
 ing visions, begins to adopt waking dreams. 
 A thousand strange phantoms arise, which 
 come and go without his will ; these, which 
 are transient in the beginning, at last take firm 
 possession of the mind, which yields to their 
 dominion, and after a long struggle, runs into 
 
 confirmed madness. In that horrid slate, the 
 mind may be considered as a city without 
 walls, open to every insult, and paying ho- 
 mage to every invader ; every idea that then 
 starts with any force, becomes a reality ; and 
 the reason, over fatigued with its former im- 
 portunities, makes no head against the tyran- 
 nical invasion, but submits to it from mere 
 imbecility. 
 
 But it is happy for mankind, that this state 
 of inquietude is seldom driven to an extreme ; 
 and that there are medicines which seldom 
 fail to give relief. However, man finds it 
 more difficult than any other animal to pro- 
 cure sleep : and some are obliged to court 
 its approaches for several hours together, be- 
 fore they incline to rest. It is in vain that all 
 light is excluded ; that all sounds are re- 
 moved ; that warmth and softness conspire 
 to invite it ; the restless and busy mind still 
 retains its former activity; and Reason, that 
 wishes to lay down the reins, in spite of her- 
 self, is obliged to maintain them. In this dis- 
 agreeable state, the mind passes from thought 
 to thought, willing to lose the distinctness of 
 perception, by increasing the multitude of 
 the images. At last, when the approaches 
 of sleep are near, every object of the imagi- 
 nation begins to mix with that next it; their 
 outlines become, in a manner, rounder ; a 
 part of their distinctions fade away; and 
 sleep, that ensues, fashions out a dream from 
 the remainder. 
 
 If then it should be asked from what cause 
 this state of repose proceeds, or in what man- 
 ner sleep thus binds us for several hours to- 
 gether ? I must fairly confe'ss my ignorance ; 
 although it is easy to tell what philosophers 
 say upon the subject. Sleep, says one of 
 them," consists in a scarcity of spirits, by 
 which the orifices or pores of the nerves in 
 the brain, through which the spirits used to 
 flow into the nerves, being no longer kept 
 open by the frequency of the spirits, shut of 
 themselves ; thus the nerves, wanting a new 
 supply of spirits, become lax, and unfit to con- 
 vey any impression to the brain. All this, 
 however, is explaining a very great obscurity 
 by somewhat more obscure ; leaving, there- 
 fore, those spirits to open and shut the en- 
 
 Rohauh. 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 157 
 
 trances to the brain, let us be contented with 
 simply enumerating the effects of sleep upon 
 the human constitution. 
 
 In sleep, the whole nervous frame is re- 
 laxed, while the heart and the lungs seem 
 more forcibly exerted. This fuller circula- 
 tion produces also a swelling of the muscles, 
 as they always find who sleep with ligatures 
 on any part of their body. This increased 
 circulation also, may be considered as a kind 
 of exercise, which is continued through the 
 frame ; and by this, the perspiration becomes 
 more copious, although the appetite for food 
 is entirely taken away. Too much sleep 
 dulls the apprehension, weakens the memory, 
 and unfits the body for labour. On the con- 
 trary, sleep too much abridged, emaciates 
 the frame, produces melancholy, and con- 
 sumes the constitution. It requires some 
 care, therefore, to regulate the quantity of 
 sleep, and just to take as much as will com- 
 pletely restore nature, without oppressing it. 
 The poor, as Otway says, sleep little ; forced 
 by their situation, to lengthen out their labour 
 to their necessities, they have but a short inter- 
 val for this pleasing refreshment; and I have 
 ever been of opinion, that bodily labour de- 
 mands a less quantity of sleep than mental. 
 Labourers and artizans are generally satis- 
 fied with about seven hours; but I have 
 known some scholars who usually slept nine, 
 and perceived their faculties no way impaired 
 by oversleeping. 
 
 The famous Philip Barrettiere, who was 
 considered as a prodigy of learning at the 
 age of fourteen, was known to sleep regularly 
 twelve hours in the twenty-four ; the extreme 
 activity of his mind, when awake, in some 
 measure called for an adequate alternation of 
 repose : and, I am apt to think, that when 
 students stint themselves in this particular, 
 they lessen the waking powers of the imagi- 
 nation, and weaken its most strenuous exer- 
 tions. Animals that seldom think, as was 
 said, can very easily dispense with sleep ; 
 and of men, such as think least, will, very 
 probably, be satisfied with the smallest share. 
 A life of study, it is well known, unfits the 
 body for receiving tin's gentle refreshment ; 
 tho approaches of sleep are driven off by 
 thinking: when, therefore, it comes at last, 
 we should not be too ready to interrupt its 
 
 continuance. Sleep is, indeed, to some, a very 
 agreeable period of their existence: audit has 
 been a question in the schools, Which was most 
 happy, the man who was a beggar by night, 
 and a king by day ; or he who was a beggar 
 by day, and a king by night ? It is given in 
 favour of the nightly monarch, by him who 
 first started the question : " For the dream,*' 
 says he, " gives the full enjoyment of the dig- 
 nity, without its attendant inconveniences ; 
 while, on the other hand, the king, who sup- 
 poses himself degraded, feels all the misery 
 of his fallen fortune, without trying to find tho 
 comforts of his humble situation. Thus, by 
 day, both states have their peculiardistresses: 
 but, by night, the exalted beggar is perfectly 
 blessed, and the king completely miserable." 
 All this, however, is rather fanciful than just; 
 the pleasure dreams can give us, seldom 
 reaches to our waking pitch of happiness : 
 the mind often in the midst of its highest vi- 
 sionary satisfactions, demands of itself, whe- 
 ther it does not owe them to a dream ; and 
 frequently awakes with the reply. 
 
 But it is seldom, except in cases of the 
 highest delight, or the most extreme uneasi- 
 ness, that the mind has power thus to disen- 
 gage itself from the dominion of fancy. In 
 the ordinary course of its operations, it sub- 
 mits to those numberless fantastic images that 
 succeed each other, and which, like many of 
 our waking thoughts, arc generally forgotten. 
 Of these, however, if any, by their oddity, or 
 their continuance, affect us strongly, they 
 are then remembered ; and there have 
 been some who felt their impressions so 
 strongly, as to mistake them for realities, 
 and to rank them among the past actions of 
 their lives. 
 
 There are others upon whom dreams seem 
 to have a very different effect; and who, 
 without seeming to remember their impres- 
 sions the next morning, have yet shown, by 
 their actions during sleep, that they were 
 very powerfully impelled by their dominion. 
 We have numberless instances of such per- 
 sons who, while asleep, have performed many 
 of the ordinary duties to which they had 
 been accustomed when waking; and, with a 
 ridiculous industry, have completed by night, 
 what they failed doing by day. We are told, 
 in the German Ephcmcrides, of a young stu- 
 2Ci 
 
153 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 dent, who being enjoined a severe exercise 
 by his tutor, went to bed, despairing of accom- 
 plishing it. The next morning awaking, to 
 his great surprise, he found the task fairly 
 written out, and finished in his own hand- 
 writing. 
 
 He was at first, as the account has it, in- 
 duced to ascribe this strange production to 
 the operations of an infernal agent ; but his 
 tutor, willing to examine the affair to the bot- 
 tom, set him another exercise, still more 
 severe than the former, and took precautions 
 to observe his conduct the whole night. The 
 young gentleman, upon being so severely 
 tasked, felt the same inquietude that he had 
 done on the former occasion ; went to bed 
 gloomy and pensive, pondering on the next 
 day's duty, and, after some time, fell asleep. 
 But shortly after, his tutor, who continued to 
 observe him from a place that was concealed, 
 was surprised to see him get up, and very de- 
 liberately go to the table ; where he took out 
 pen, ink, and paper, drew himself a chair, 
 and sat very methodically to thinking: it 
 seems, that his being asleep, only served to 
 strengthen the powers of his imagination ; for 
 he very quickly and easily went through the 
 task assigned him ; put his chair aside, and 
 then returned to bed to take out the rest of 
 his nap. What credit we are to give to this 
 account, I will not pretend to determine ; but 
 this may be said, that the book from whence 
 it was taken, has some good marks of vera- 
 city; for it is very learned, and very dull; 
 and is written in a country noted, if not for 
 truth, at least for want of invention. 
 
 The ridiculous story of Arlotto is well 
 known, who has had a volume written, con- 
 taining a narrative of the actions of his life, 
 not one of which was performed while he was 
 awake. He was an Italian Franciscan friar, 
 extremely rigid in his manners, and remarka- 
 bly devout and learned in his daily conver- 
 sation. By night, however, and during his 
 sleep, he played a very different character 
 from what he did by day, and was often de- 
 tected in very atrocious crimes. He was at 
 one time detected in actually attempting a 
 rape, and did not awake till the next morning, 
 when he was surprised to find himself in the 
 hands of justice. His brothers of the convent 
 often watched him while he went very deli- 
 
 berately into the chapel, and there attempted 
 to commit sacrilege. They sometimes permit- 
 ted him to carry the chalice and the vest- 
 ments away into his own chamber, and the 
 next morning amused themselves at the poor 
 man's consternation for what he had done. 
 But of all his sleeping transgressions, thai 
 was the most ridiculous, in which he was 
 called to pray for the soul of a person de- 
 parted. Arlotto, after having devoutly per- 
 formed his duty, retired to a chamber which 
 was shown him, to rest; but there he had no 
 sooner fallen asleep, than he began to reflect 
 that the dead body had got a ring upon one 
 of the fingers, which might be useful to him : 
 accordingly, with a pious resolution of steal- 
 ing it, he went down, undressed as he was, 
 into a room full of women, and, with great 
 composure, endeavoured to seize the ring. 
 The consequence was, that he was taken be- 
 fore the inquisition for witchcraft; and the 
 poor creature had like to have been con- 
 demned, till his peculiar character acciden- 
 tally came to be known : however, he was 
 ordered to remain for the rest of life in his 
 own convent, and upon no account whatso- 
 ever to stir abroad. 
 
 What are we to say to such actions as 
 these ? or how account for this operation of 
 the mind in dreaming ? It should seem, that 
 the imagination, by day, as well as by night, 
 is always employed ; and that often, against 
 our wills, it intrudes, where it is least com- 
 manded or desired. While awake, and in 
 health, this busy principle cannot much de- 
 lude us : it may build castles in the air, and 
 raise a thousand phantoms before us ; but we 
 have every one of the senses alive to bear 
 testimony to its falsehood. Our eyes show 
 us that the prospect is not present ; our hear- 
 ing and our touch depose against its reality ; 
 and our taste and smelling are equally vigi- 
 lent in detecting the imposture. Reason, 
 therefore, at once gives judgment upon the 
 cause, and the vagrant intruder, Imagination, 
 is imprisoned, or banished from the mind. 
 But in sleep it is otherwise ; having, as much 
 as possible, put our senses from their duty, 
 having closed the eyes from seeing, and the 
 ears, taste, and smelling, from their peculiar 
 functions, and having diminished even the 
 touch itself, by all the arts of softness, the 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 imagination is then left to riot at large, and 
 to lead the understanding without an opposer. 
 Every incursive idea then becomes a reality; 
 and the mind, not having one power that can 
 prove the illusion, takes them for truths. As 
 in madness, the senses, from struggling with 
 the imagination, are at length forced to sub- 
 mit ; so, in sleep, they seem for a while sooth- 
 
 ed into the like submission : the smallest 
 violence exerted upon any one of them, how- 
 ever, rouses all the rest in their mutual de- 
 fence ; and the imagination, that had for a 
 while told its thousand falsehoods, is totally 
 driven away, or only permitted to pass under 
 the custody of such as are every moment 
 ready to detect its imposition. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 OF SEEING." 
 
 " HAVING mentioned the senses as cor- 
 recting the errors of the imagination, and as 
 forcing it, in some measure, to bring us just 
 information, it will naturally follow, that we 
 should examine the nature of those senses 
 themselves: we shall thus be enabled to see 
 how far they also impose on us, and how far 
 they contribute to correct each other. Let 
 it be observed, however, that in this we are 
 neither giving a treatise of optics or phonics, 
 but a history of our own perceptions : and 
 to those we chiefly confine ourselves." 
 
 The eyes very soon begin to be formed in 
 the human embryo, and in the chicken also. 
 
 Of all the parts which the animal has dou- 
 ble, the eyes are produced the soonest, and 
 appear the most prominent. It is true, indeed, 
 that in viviparous animals, and particularly in 
 man, they are not so large in proportion, at 
 first, as in the oviparous kinds; nevertheless, 
 they are more speedily developed, when they 
 begin to appear, than any other parts of the 
 body. It is the same with the organ of hear- 
 ing ; the little bones that compose the inter- 
 nal parts of the ear are entirely formed before 
 the other bones, though much larger, hare 
 acquired any part of their growth or solidity. 
 Hence it appears, that those parts of the body 
 which are furnished with the greatest quan- 
 
 This chapter is taken from Mr. Buffbn. I believe 
 the reader will readily excuse any apology ; and, perhaps, 
 may wish that I had taken this liberty much more fre- 
 quently. What I add is marked, as in a former instance, 
 with inverted commas. 
 
 tity of nerves, are the first in forming. Thus 
 the brain and the spinal-marrow, are the first 
 seen begun in the embryo ; and, in general, 
 it may be said, that wherever the nerves go, 
 or send their branches in great numbers, there 
 the parts are soonest begun, and the most com- 
 pletely finished. 
 
 If we examine the eyes of a child some 
 hours, or even some days, after its birth, it 
 will be easily discerned that it as yet makes 
 no use of them. The humours of the organ 
 not having acquired a sufficient consistence, 
 the rays of light strike but confusedly upon 
 the retina, or expansion of nerves at the back 
 of the eye. It is not till about a month after 
 they are born, that children fix them upon 
 objects ; for, before that time, they turn them 
 indiscriminately every where, without appear- 
 ing to be affected by any. At six or seven 
 weeks old, they plainly discover a choice in 
 the objects of their attention ; they fix their 
 eyes upon the most brilliant colours, and seem 
 peculiarly desirous of turning them towards 
 the light. Hitherto, however, they only seem 
 to fortify the organ for seeing distinctly ; but 
 they have still many illusions to correct. 
 
 The first great error in vision is, that the 
 eye inverts every object : and it in reality ap- 
 pears to the child, until the touch has served 
 to undeceive it, turned upside down. A se- 
 cond error in vision is, that every object ap- 
 pears double. The same object forms itself 
 distinctly upon each eye ; and is consequent- 
 ly seen twice. This error, also, can only be 
 
160 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 corrected by the touch ; and although, in re- 
 ality, every object we see appears inverted ! 
 and double, yet the judgment and habit have ' 
 so often corrected the sense, that we no lon- 
 ger submit to its imposition, but see every ' 
 object in its just position, the very instant it ' 
 appears. Were we, therefore, deprived of 
 feeling, our eyes would not only misrepresent 
 the situation, but also the number of all things ; 
 around us. 
 
 To convince us that we see objects invert- 
 ed, we have only to observe the manner in ! 
 which images are represented, coming through 
 a small hole, in a darkened room. If such a | 
 small hole be made in a dark room, so that | 
 no light can come in, but through it, all the \ 
 objects without will be painted on the wall 
 behind, but in an inverted position, their 
 heads downwards. For as all the rays which 
 pass from the different parts of the object 
 without, cannot enter the hole in the same ex- 
 tent which they had in leaving the object; 
 since, if so, they would require the aperture 
 to be as large as the object; and, as each 
 part, and every point of the object, sends forth 
 the image of itself on every side, and the rays, 
 which form these images, pass from all points 
 of the object as from so many centres, so such 
 only can pass through the small aperture as 
 come in opposite directions. Thus the little 
 aperture becomes a centre for the entire ob- j 
 ject ; through which the rays from the up- 
 per parts, as well as from the lower parts of 
 it, pass in converging directions; and, conse- 
 quently, they must cross each other, in the 
 central point, and thus paint the objects be- 
 hind, upon the wall, in an inverted position. 
 
 It is, in like manner, easy to conceive, that 
 we see all objects double, whatever our pre- 
 sent sensations may seem to tell us to the con- 
 trary. For to convince us of this, we have 
 only to compare the situation of any one ob- 
 ject on shutting one eye, and then compare 
 the same situation by shutting the other. If, 
 for instance, we hold up a finger, and shut the 
 right eye, we shall find it hide a certain part 
 of the room ; if again reshutting the other eye, 
 we shall find that part of the room visible, i 
 and the finger seeming to cover a part of the 
 room that had been visible before. If we | 
 open both eyes, however, the part covered j 
 -wiH appear to lie between the two extremes. 
 
 But the truth is, we see the object our finger 
 had covered, one image of it to the right, and 
 the other to the left ; but, from habit, suppose 
 that we see but one image placed between 
 both; our sense of feeling having corrected 
 the errors of sight. And thus, also, if instead 
 of two eyes we had two hundred, we should, 
 at first, fancy the objects increased in pro- 
 portion, until one sense had corrected the 
 errors of another. 
 
 44 The having two eyes might thus be said 
 to be rather an inconvenience than a benefit; 
 since one eye would answer the purposes of 
 sight as well, and be less liable to illusion. 
 But it is otherwise ; two eyes greatly contri- 
 bute, if not to distinct, at least to extensive 
 vision.* When an object is placed at a mo- 
 derate distance, by the means of both eyes 
 we see a larger share of it than we possibly 
 could with one ; the right eye seeing a grea- 
 ter portion of its right side, and the left eye of 
 its corresponding side. Thus both eyes, in 
 some measure, see round the object; and it 
 is this that gives it, in nature, that bold re- 
 lievo, or swelling, with which they appear ; 
 and which no painting, how exquisite soever, 
 can attain to. The painter must be content- 
 ed with shading on aflat surface; but the 
 eyes, in observing nature, do not behold the 
 shading only, but a part of the figure also, 
 that lies behind (hose very shadings, which 
 gives it that swelling, which painters so ar- 
 dently desire, but can never fully imitate. 
 
 " There is another defect, which either of 
 the eyes, taken singly, would have, but which 
 is corrected, by having the organ double. 
 In either eye there is a point, which ha^ no 
 vision whatsoever ; so that if one of them only 
 is employed in seeing, there is a part of the 
 object to which it is always totally blind. 
 This is that part of the optic, nerve where its 
 vein and artery run; which being insensible, 
 that point of the object that is painted there 
 must continue unseen. To be Convinced of 
 this we have only to try a very easy experi- 
 ment. If we take three black patches, and 
 stick them upon a white wall, about a foot 
 distant from each other, each about as high 
 as the eye that is to observe them ; then re- 
 tiring six or seven feet back, and shutting one 
 
 " Leonardo da Vinci. 
 
AXIMALS. 
 
 eye, by trying for some: time, we shall find, 
 that while we distinctly behold the black 
 spots that are to the ri>j;!jt and left, that which 
 is in the middle remains totally unseen. Or, 
 in other words, when we bring that part of the 
 eye, where the optic artery runs, to fall upon 
 the object, it will then become invisible. 
 This defect, however, in either eye, is always 
 corrected by both, since the part of the object 
 that is unseen by one, will be very distinctly 
 perorivrd by the other.'' 
 
 Beside the former defects, we can have no 
 idea of distances from the sight, without the 
 help of touch. Naturally every object we 
 see appears to be within our eyes ; and a 
 child, who has as yet made but little use of 
 the sense of feeling, must suppose that every 
 thing it sees makes a part of itself. Such ob- 
 jects are only seen more or less bulky as they 
 approach, or recede from its eyes ; so that 
 a lly that is near will appear larger than an 
 ox at a distance. It is experience alone that 
 can rectify this mistake ; and a long acquain- 
 tance with the real size of every object, quick- 
 ly assures us of the distance at which it is seen. 
 The last man in a file of soldiers appears in 
 reality much less, perhaps ten times more di- 
 minutive, than the man next to us ; however, 
 we do not perceive this difference, but con- 
 tinue to think him of equal stature ; for the 
 numbers we have seen thus lessened by dis- 
 tance, and have found, by repeated experi- 
 ence, to be of the natural size when we come 
 closer, instantly correct the sense, and every 
 object is perceived with nearly its natural 
 proportion. But it is otherwise, if we observe 
 objects in such situations as we have not had 
 sufficient experience to correct the errors of 
 the eye ; if, for instance, we look at men from 
 the top of a high steeple, they, in that case, 
 appear very much diminished, as we have not 
 had a habit of correctitig the sense in that po- 
 sition. 
 
 Although a small degree of reflection will 
 serve to convince us of the truth of these po- 
 sitions, it may not be amiss to strengthen 
 them by an authority which cannot be dispu- 
 ted. Mr. Cheselden having couched a boy 
 of thirteen for a cataract, who had hitherto 
 been blind, and thus at once having restored 
 him to sight, curiously marked the progress 
 of his mind upon that occasion. This youth, 
 
 though he had been till then incapable of see- 
 ing, yet was not totally blind, but could tell 
 day from night, as persons in his situation 
 always may. He could also, with a strong 
 light, distinguish black from white, and either 
 from the vivid colour of scarlet : however, he 
 saw nothing of the form of bodies ; and, with- 
 out a bright light, not even colours themselves. 
 He was, at first, couched only in one of his 
 eyes; and when he saw for the first time, he 
 was so far from judging of distances, that he 
 supposed his eye touched every object tiia- 
 he saw, in the same manner as his hands 
 might be said to feel them. The objects that 
 were most agreeable to him were such as were 
 of plain surfaces and regular figures : though 
 he could as yet make no judgment whatever 
 of their different forms, nor give a reason why 
 one pleased him more than another. Al- 
 though he could form some idea of colours 
 during his state of blindness, yet that was not 
 sufficient to direct him at present; and he 
 could scarcely be persuaded that the colours 
 he now saw were the same with those he had 
 formerly conceived such erroneous ideas of. 
 He delighted most in green ; but black ob- 
 jects, as if giving him an idea of his former 
 blindness, he regarded with horror. He had, 
 as was said, no idea of forms ; and was una- 
 ble to distinguish one object from another, 
 though never so different. When those things 
 were shown him, which he had been former- 
 ly familiarized to by his feeling, he beheld 
 them with earnestness, in order to remember 
 them a second time : but as he had too many 
 to recollect at once, he forgot the greatest 
 number ; and for one he could tell, after see- 
 ing, there was a thousand he was totally un- 
 acquainted with. He was very much sur- 
 prised to find, that those things and persons 
 he loved best, were not the most beautiful to 
 be seen; and even testified displeasure in 
 not finding his parents so handsome as he 
 conceived them to be. It was near two months 
 before he could find that a picture resembled 
 a solid body. Till then he only considered 
 it as a flat surface, variously shadowed ; but 
 when he began to perceive that these kind 
 of shadings actually represented human beings, 
 he then began to examine, by his touch, whe- 
 ther they had not the usual qualities of such 
 bodies, and was .oreatly surprised to find, what 
 
A HISTORY OF 
 
 he expected a very unequal surface, to be 
 smooth and even. He was then shown a mi- 
 niature-picture of his father, which was con- 
 tained in his mother's watch-case, and he rea- 
 dily perceived the resemblance; but asked, 
 with great astonishment, how so large a face 
 could be contained in so small a compass? 
 It seemed as strange to him as if a bushel was 
 contained in a pint vessel. At first he could 
 bear but a very small quantity of light, and 
 he saw erery object much greater than the 
 life ; but, in proportion as he saw objects that 
 were really large, he seemed to think the for- 
 mer were diminished ; and although he knew 
 the chamber where he was contained in the 
 house, yet, until he saw the latter, he could 
 not be brought to conceive how a house could 
 be larger than a chamber. Before the ope- 
 ration, he had no great expectations from the 
 pleasure he should receive from a new sense; 
 he was only excited by the hopes of being 
 able to read and write ; he said, for instance, 
 that he could hare no greater pleasure in 
 walking in the garden with his sight, than he 
 had without it, tor he walked there at his ease, 
 and was acquainted with all the walks. He 
 remarked also, with great justice, that his for- 
 mer blindness gave him one advantage over 
 the rest of mankind, which was that of being 
 able to walk in the night with confidence and 
 security. But when he began to make use 
 of his new sense, he seemed transported be- 
 yond measure. He said, that every new ob- 
 ject was a new source of delight, and that his 
 pleasure was so great as to be past expres- 
 sion. 
 
 About a year after, he was brought to Ep- 
 som, where there is a very fine prospect, with 
 which he seemed greatly charmed ; and he 
 called the landscape before him a new me- 
 thod of seeing. He was couched in the other 
 eye, a year after the former, and the opera- 
 tion succeeded equally well : when he saw 
 with both eyes, he said that objects appear- 
 ed to him twice as large as when he saw but 
 with one; however, he did not see them dou- 
 bled, or, at least, he showed no marks as if 
 he saw them so. Mr. Cheselden mentions in- 
 instances of many more that were restored to 
 sight in this manner ; they all seemed to con- 
 cur in their perceptions with this youth ; and 
 all seemed particularly embarrassed in 
 
 learning how to direct their eyes to the ob 
 jects they wished to observe. 
 
 In this manner it is that our feeling correct; 
 the sense of seeing, and that objects which 
 appear of very different sizes at different dis- 
 tances, are all reduced, by experience, to 
 their natural standard. " But not the feeling 
 only, but also the colour and brightness ot 
 the object, contributes, in some measure, to 
 assist us in forming an idea of the distance at 
 which it appears." Those which we see most 
 strongly marked with light and shade, we rea- 
 dily know to be nearer than those on which 
 the colours are more faintly spread, and that, 
 in some measure, take a part of their hue from 
 the air between us and them. Bright objects 
 also are seen at a greater distance than such 
 as are obscure, and, most probably, for this 
 reason, that being less similar in colour, to 
 the air which interposes, their impressions are 
 less effaced by it, and they continue more dis- 
 tinctly visible. Thus a black and distant ob- 
 ject is not seen so far off" as a bright and glit- 
 tering one, and a fire by night is seen much 
 farther off" than by day." 
 
 The power of seeing objects at a distance 
 is very rarely equal in both eyes. When this 
 inequality is in any great degree, the person 
 so circumstanced then makes use only of one 
 eye, shutting that which sees the least, and 
 employing the other with all its power. And 
 hence proceeds that awkward look which is 
 known by the name of strabism. 
 
 There are many reasons to induce us to 
 think that such as are near-sighted see objects 
 larger than other persons ; and yet the con- 
 trary is most certainly true, for they see them 
 less. Mr. Buffbn informs us that he himself 
 is short-sighted, and that hisleft eyeisstronger 
 than his right. He has very frequently expe- 
 rienced, upon looking at any object, such as 
 the letters of a book, that they appear less to 
 the weakest eye; and that when he places the 
 book, so as that the letters appear double, 
 the images of the left eye, which is strongest, 
 are greater than those of the right, which is 
 the most feeble. He has examined several 
 others, who were in similar circumstances, and 
 
 a Mr. Buffon gives a different theory, for which I must 
 refer the reader to the original. That I have given, I 
 take to be easy and satisfactory enough. 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 to;* 
 
 has always found that the best eye saw every 
 object the largest. This he ascribes to ha- 
 bit; for near-sighted people being accustom- 
 ed to come close to the object, and view but 
 a small part of it at a time, the habit ensues, 
 when the whole of an object is seen, and it 
 appears less to them than to others. 
 
 Infants, having their eyes less than those 
 of adults, must see objects also smaller in pro- 
 portion. For the image formed on the back 
 of the eye will be large, as the eye is capaci- 
 ous ; and infants, having it not so great, can- 
 not have so large a picture of the object. 
 This may be a reason also why they are un- 
 able to see so distinctly, or at such distances, 
 as persons arrived at maturity. 
 
 Old men, on the contrary, see bodies close 
 to them very indistinctly, but bodies at a great 
 distance from them with more precision; and 
 this may happen from an alteration in the 
 coats, or, perhaps, humours of the eye ; and 
 not, as is supposed, from their diminution. 
 The cornea, for instance, may become too ri- 
 gid to adapt itself, and take a proper convexi- 
 ty for seeing minute objects ; and its very 
 flatness will be sufficient tofit it fordistant vision. 
 
 When we cast our eyes upon an object ex- 
 tremely brilliant, or when we fix and detain 
 them too long upon the same object, the organ 
 is hurt and fatigued, its vision becomes indis- 
 tinct, and the image of the body which has 
 thus too violently, or too perseveringly em- 
 ployed us, is painted upon every thing we 
 look at, and mixes with every object that oc- 
 curs. " And this is an obvious consequence 
 of the eye taking in too much light, either im- 
 mediately, or by reflection. Every body ex- 
 posed to the light, for a time, drinks in a quan- 
 tity of its rays, which being brought into dark- 
 ness, it cannot instantly discharge. Thus the 
 hand, if it be exposed to broad day-light for 
 some time, and then immediately snatched 
 into a dark room, will appear still lumi- 
 nous : and it will be some time before it is to- 
 tally darkened. It is thus with the eye; 
 which, either by an instant gaze at the sun, 
 or a steady continuance upon some less bril- 
 liant object, has taken in too much light ; its 
 humours are, for a while, unfit for vision, until 
 that be discharged, and room made for rays 
 of a milder nature." How dangerous the look- 
 ing upon bright and luminous objects is to the 
 
 NO. 15 & 16 
 
 sight, may be easily seen, from such as live 
 in countries covered for most part of the year 
 with snow, who become generally blind beibre 
 their time. Travellers who cross these coun- 
 tries are obliged to wear a crape before their 
 faces, to save their eyes, which would other- 
 wise be rendered totally unserviceable ; and 
 it is equally dangerous in the sandy plains of 
 Africa. The reflection of the light is there so 
 strong, that it is impossible to sustain the effect 
 without incurring the danger of losing one's 
 sight entirely. Such persons, therefore, as 
 read or write for any continuance, should 
 choose a moderate light, in order to save their 
 eyes ; and although it may seem insufficient al 
 first, the eye will accustom itself to the shade, 
 by degrees, and be less hurt by the want of 
 light than the excess. 
 
 " It is, indeed, surprising how far the eye 
 can accommodate itself to darkness, and make 
 the best of a gloomy situation. When first 
 taken from the light, and brought into a dark 
 room, all things disappear; or, if any thing 
 is seen, it is only the remaining radiations that 
 still continue in the eye. But, after a very 
 little time, when these are spent, the eye 
 takes the advantage of the smallest ray that 
 happens to enter ; and this alone would, in time, 
 serve for many of the purposes of life. There 
 was a gentleman of great courage and under- 
 standing, who was a major under King 
 Charles I. ; this unfortunate man, sharing in 
 his master's misfortunes, and being forced 
 abroad, ventured at Madrid to do his king 
 a signal service ; but unluckily failed in the 
 attempt. In consequence of this, he was in- 
 stantly ordered to a dark and dismal dun- 
 geon, into which the light never entered, and 
 into which there was no opening but by a 
 hole at the top, down which the keeper put 
 his provisions, and presently closed it again 
 on the other side. In this manner the unfor- 
 tunate loyalist continued for some weeks, dis- 
 tressed and disconsolate ; but at last he be- 
 gan to think he saw some little glimmering of 
 light. This internal dawn seemed to in- 
 crease from time to time, so that he could not 
 only discover the parts of his bed, and such 
 other large objects, but, at length, he even 
 began to perceive the mice that frequented 
 his cell ; and saw them as they ran about the 
 floor, eating the crumbs of bread that happen- 
 
 2H 
 
164 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 ed to fall. After some months' confinement I] not, for some days, venture to leave his dun- 
 he was at last set free; but such was the ef- geori, but was obliged to accustom himself by 
 feet of the darkness upon him, that he could jj degrees to the light of the day. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 OF HEARING." 
 
 AS the sense of hearing, as well as of sight, 
 gives us notice of remote objects, so, like that, 
 it is subject to similar errors, being capable 
 of imposing on us upon all occasions, where 
 we cannot rectify it by the sense of feeling. 
 We can have from it no distinct intelligence 
 of the distance from whence a sounding body 
 is heard ; a great noise far ofT, and a small 
 one very near, produce the same sensation ; 
 and unless we receive information from some 
 other sense, we can never distinctly tell whe- 
 ther the sound be a great or a small one. It 
 is riot till we have learned, by experience, 
 that the particular sound which is heard, is of 
 a peculiar kind ; then we can judge of the 
 distance from whence we hear it. When we 
 know the tone of the bell, we can then judge 
 how far it is from us. 
 
 Every body that strikes against another pro- 
 duces a sound, which is simple, and but one 
 in bodies which are not elastic, but which is 
 often repeated in such as are. If we strike a 
 bell, or a stretched string, for instance, which 
 are both elastic, a single blow produces a 
 sound, which is repeated by the undulations 
 of the sonorous body, and which is multiplied 
 as often as it happens to undulate or vibrate. 
 These undulations each strike their own pe- 
 culiar blow; but they succeed so fast, one 
 behind the other, that the ear supposes them 
 one continued sound ; whereas, in reality, 
 they make many. A person who should, for 
 the first time, hear the toll of the bell, would 
 very probably be able to distinguish these 
 breaks of sound ; and, in fact, we can readily 
 ourselves perceive an intention and premis- 
 sion in the sound. 
 
 In this manner, sounding bodies are of two 
 
 1 This chapter is taken from Mr. Bullbn, except where 
 marked by inverted commas. 
 
 kinds; those unelastic ones, which, being 
 struck, return but a single sound ; and those 
 more elastic, returning a succession of sounds; 
 which uniting together, form a tone. This 
 tone may be considered as a great number 
 of sounds, all produced one alter the other, 
 by the same body, as we find in a bell, or the 
 string of a harpsichord, which continues to 
 sound for some time after it is struck. A con- 
 tinuing tone may also be produced from a 
 non-elastic body, by repeating the blow quick 
 and often, as when we beat a drum, or when 
 we draw a bow along the string of a fiddle. 
 Considering the subject in this light, if we 
 should multiply the number of blows, or re- 
 peat them at quicker intervals upon the 
 sounding body, as upon the drum, for in- 
 stance, it is evident that this will have no ef- 
 fect in altering the tone ; it will only make 
 it either more even, or more distinct. But it 
 is otherwise, if we increase the force of the 
 blow: if we strike the body with double 
 weight, this will produce a tone twice as loud 
 as the former. If, for instance, I strike a table 
 with a switch, this will be very-different from 
 the sound produced by striking it with a cud- 
 gel. Hence, therefore, we may infer, that all 
 bodies give a louder and a graver tone, not 
 in proportion to the number of times they are 
 struck, but in proportion to the force that 
 strikes them. And, if this be so, those philo- 
 sophers who make the tone of a sonorous 
 body, of a bell, or the string of a harpsichord, 
 for instance, to depend upon the number only 
 of its vibrations, and not the force, have mis- 
 taken what is only an effect for a cause. A 
 bell, or an elastic string, can only be consi- 
 dered as a drum beaten; and the frequency 
 of the blows can make no alteration whatever 
 in the tone. The largest bells, and the longest 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 16f, 
 
 and thickest strings, have the most forceful 
 vibrations ; and, therefore, their tones are the 
 most loud and the most grave. 
 
 To know the manner in which sounds thus 
 produced become pleasing, it must be observ- 
 ed, no one continuing tone, how loud and 
 swelling soever, can give us satisfaction ; we 
 must have a succession of them, and those in 
 the most pleasing proportion. The nature of 
 this proportion may be thus conceived. If 
 we strike a body incapable of vibration with 
 a double force, or, what amounts to the same 
 thing, with a double mass of matter, it will 
 produce a sound that will be doubly grave. 
 Music has been said, by the ancients, to have 
 been first invented from blows of different 
 hammers on an anvil. Suppose then we strike 
 an anvil with a hammer of one pound 
 weight, and again with a hammer of two 
 pounds, it is plain that the two-pound hammer 
 will produce a sound twice as grave as the 
 former. But if we strike with a two-po'ind 
 hammer, and then with a three-pound, it is 
 evident that the latter will produce a sound 
 one-third more grave than the former. If we 
 strike the anvil with a three-pound hammer, 
 and then with a four-pound, it will likewise 
 follow that the latter will be a quarter part 
 more grave than the former. Now, in the 
 comparing between all those sounds, it is ob- 
 vious that the difference between one and fwo 
 is more easily perceived, than between two 
 and three, three and four, or any numbers 
 succeeding in the same proportion. The suc- 
 cession of sounds will be, therefore, pleasing 
 in proportion to the ease with which they 
 may be distinguished. That sound which is 
 double the former, or, in other words, the oc- 
 tave to the preceding tone, will, of all others, 
 be the most pleasing harmony. The next to 
 that which is as two to three, or, in other 
 words, the thirl, will be most agreeable. And 
 thus, universally, those sounds whose differ- 
 ence may be most easily compared, are the 
 most agreeable. 
 
 " Musicians, therefore, have contented 
 themselves with seven different proportions 
 of sound, which are called notes, and which 
 sufficiently answer all the purposes of plea- 
 sure. Not but that they might adopt a grea- 
 ter diversity of proportions ; and some have 
 actually done so ; but, in these, the differences 
 
 of the proportion are so imperceptible, that 
 the ear is rather fatigued than pleased in 
 making the distinction. In order, however, 
 to give variety, they have admitted halftones: 
 but in all the countries where music is yet in 
 its infancy, they have rejected such ; and they 
 can find music in none but the obvious ones. 
 The Chinese, for instance, have neither flats 
 nor sharps in their music; but the intervals 
 between their other notes, are in the same 
 proportion with ours. 
 
 " Many more barbarous nations have their 
 peculiar instruments of music ; and, what is 
 remarkable,the proportion between their notes 
 is in all the same as in ours. This is not the 
 place for entering into the nature of these 
 sounds, their effects upon the air,or their con- 
 sonances with each other. We are not now giv- 
 ing a history of sound, but of human perception. 
 " All countries are pleased with music ; 
 and if they have not skill enough to produce 
 harmony, at least they seem willing to substi- 
 tute noise. Without all question, noise alone 
 is sufficient to operate powerfully on the 
 spirits ; and, if the mind be already predis- 
 posed to joy, I have seldom found noise fail 
 of increasing it into rapture. The mind feels 
 a kind of distracted pleasure in such power- 
 ful sounds, braces up every nerve, and riots 
 in the excess. But, as in the eye, an imme- 
 diate gaze upon the sun will disturb the or- 
 gans, so, in the ear, a loud unexpected noise- 
 disorders the whole frame, arid sometimes 
 disturbs the sense ever after. The mind 
 must have time to prepare for the expected 
 shock, and to give its organs the proper ten- 
 sion for its arrival. 
 
 " Musical sounds, however, seem of a differ- 
 ent kind. Those are generally most pleasing 
 which are most unexpected. It is not from 
 bracing up the nerves, but from the grateful 
 successionof the sounds, that these become so 
 charming. There /are few, how indifferent 
 soever, but have at times felt their pleasing im- 
 pressions; and, perhaps, even those who have 
 stood out against the powerful persuasion of 
 sounds, only wanted the proper tune, or the 
 proper instrument, to allure them. 
 
 " The ancients give us a thousand strange 
 
 instances of the effects of music upon men 
 
 and animals. The story of Arion's harp, that 
 
 gathered the dolphins to the ship's side, is well 
 
 211* 
 
166 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 known ; and what is remarkable, Scholteus 
 assures us," that he saw a similar instance of 
 fishes being allured by music. They tell us 
 of diseases that have been cured, unchastity 
 corrected, seditions quelled, passions re- 
 moved, and sometimes excited even to mad- 
 ness. Dr. Wallis has endeavoured to account 
 for these surprising effects, by ascribing them 
 to the novelty of the art. For my own part, 
 J can scarcely hesitate to impute them to the 
 exaggeration of the writers. They are as hy- 
 perbolical in the effects of their oratory ; and 
 yet, we well know, there is nothing in the ora- 
 tions which they have left us, capable of ex- 
 citing madness, or of raising the mind to that 
 ungovernable degree of fury which they de- 
 scribe. As they have exaggerated, therefore, 
 in one instance, we may naturally suppose 
 that they have done the same in the other; 
 and, indeed, from the few remains we have of 
 their music, collected by Meibornius, one 
 might be apt to suppose there was nothing 
 very powerful in what is lost. Nor does any 
 one of the ancient instruments, such as we 
 see them represented in statues, appear com- 
 parable to our fiddle. 
 
 " However this be, we have many odd ac- 
 counts, not only among them, but the mo- 
 derns, of the power of music ; and it must not 
 be denied, but that, on some particular oc- 
 casions, musical sounds may have a very pow- 
 erful effect. I have seen all the horses and 
 cows in a field, where there were above a 
 hundred, gathered round a person that was 
 blowing a French horn, and seeming to tes- 
 tify an awkward kind of satisfaction. Dogs 
 are well known to be very sensible of dif- 
 ferent tones in music ; and I have sometimes 
 heard them sustain a very ridiculous part in 
 a concert, where their assistance was neither 
 expected nor desired. 
 
 " We are told of Henry IV. of Denmark, 11 
 that being one day desirous of trying in 
 person whether a musician, who boasted that 
 he could excite men to madness, was not 
 an impostor, he submitted to the operation 
 of his skill : but the consequence was much 
 more terrible than he expected ; for, becom- 
 ing actually mad, he killed four of his atten- 
 
 a Quod oculis meis spectavi. Schotti Magic, univer- 
 aalis, pars. ii. lib. 1. p. 26. 
 
 dants in the midst of his transports. A con- 
 trary effect of music we have, c in the cure of 
 a madman of Alais, in France, by music. 
 This man, who was a dancing-master, after a 
 fever of five days, grew furious, and so un- 
 governable that his hands were obliged to be 
 tied to his sides : what at first was rage, in a 
 short time was converted into silent melan- 
 choly, which no arts could exhilarate, nor no 
 medicines remove. In this sullen and de- 
 jected state, an old acquaintance accidentally 
 came to inquire after his health ; he found 
 him sitting up in bed, tied, and totally regard- 
 less of every external object around him. 
 Happening, however, to take up a fiddle that 
 lay in the room, and touching a favourite air, 
 the poor madman instantly seemed to brighten 
 up at the sound ; from a recumbent posture, 
 he began to sit up ; and, as the musician con- 
 tinued playing, the patient seemed desirous 
 of dancing to the sound : but he was tied, 
 and incapable of leaving his bed, so that he 
 could only humour the tune with his head, 
 and those parts of his arms which were at 
 liberty. Thus the other continued playing, 
 and the dancing-master practised his own art, 
 as far as he^as able, for about a quarter of 
 an hour, when suddenly falling into a deep 
 sleep, in which his disorder came to a crisis, 
 he awaked perfectly recovered. 
 
 ""A. thousand other instances might be add- 
 ed, equally true : let it suffice to add one more, 
 which is not true ; I mean that of the taran- 
 tula. Every person who has been in Italy 
 now well knows, that the bite of this animal, 
 and its being cured by music, is all a decep- 
 tion. When strangers come into that part 
 of the country, the country people are ready 
 enough to take money for dancing to the 
 tarantula. A friend of mine had a servant 
 who suffered himself to be bit ; the wound, 
 which was little larger than the puncture of a 
 pin, was uneasy for a few hours, and then be- 
 came well without any farther assistance. 
 Some of the country people however, still 
 make tolerable livelihood of the credulity of 
 strangers, as the musician finds his account 
 in it not less than the dancer." 
 
 Sounds, like light, are not only extensively 
 
 b Olai Magni, 1. 15. hist. c. 28. c Hist, de 1'Acad. 
 1708. p. 22. 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 167 
 
 diffused, but are frequently reflected. The 
 laws of this reflection, it is true, are not as 
 well understood as those of light ; all we 
 know is, that sound is principally reflected 
 by hard bodies ; and their being hollow; also, 
 sometimes increases the reverberation. " No 
 art, however, can make an echo ; and some 
 who have bestowed great labour and expense 
 upon such a project, have only erected shape- 
 less buildings, whose silence was a mortifying 
 lecture upon their presumption." 
 
 The internal cavity of the ear seems to be 
 fitted up for the purpose of echoing sound 
 with the greatest precision. This part is fa- 
 shioned out in the temporal bone, like a ca- 
 vern cut into a rock. " In this the sound is 
 repeated and articulated ; and, as some ana- 
 tomists tell us, (for we have as yet but very 
 little knowledge on this subject,) is beaten 
 against the tympanum, or drum of the ear, 
 which moves four little bones joined thereto; 
 and these move and agitate the internal air 
 which lies on the other side; and lastly, this 
 air strikes and affects the auditory nerves, 
 which carry the sound to the brain." 
 
 One of the most common disorders in old 
 age is deafness ; which probably proceeds 
 from the rigidity of the nerves in the labyrinth 
 of the ear. This disorder, also, sometimes 
 proceeds from a stoppage of the wax, which 
 art may easily remedy. In order to know 
 whether the defect be an internal or an ex- 
 ternal one, let the deaf person put a repeat- 
 ing watch into his mouth, and if he hears it 
 strike, he may be assured that his disorder 
 proceeds from an external cause, and is, in 
 some measure, curable : " for there is a pas- 
 sage from the ears into the mouth, by what 
 anatomists call the eustachian tube ; and, by 
 this passage, people often hear sounds, when 
 they are utterly without hearing through the 
 larger channel : and this also is the reason 
 that we often see persons who listen with 
 great attention, hearken with their mouths 
 open, in order to catch all the sound at every 
 aperture." 
 
 It often happens, that persons hear diffe- 
 rently with one ear from the other ; and it is 
 generally found that these have what is call- 
 ed, by musicians, a bad ear. Mr. Buffon, 
 who has made many trials upon persons of 
 this kind, always found that their defect in 
 
 judging properly of sounds proceeded from 
 the inequality of their ears ; and receiving by 
 both, at the same time, unequal sensations, 
 they form an unjust idea. In this manner, as 
 those people hear false, they also, without 
 knowing it, sing false. Those persons also 
 frequently deceive themselves with regard to 
 the side from whence the sound comes, gene- 
 rally supposing the noise to come on the part 
 of the best ear. 
 
 Such as are hard of hearing, find the same 
 advantage in the trumpet made for this pur- 
 pose, that short-sighted persons do from 
 glasses. These trumpets might be easily im- 
 proved so as to increase sounds, in the same 
 manner that the telescope does objects ; how- 
 ever, they could be used to advantage only 
 in a place of solitude and stillness, as the 
 neighbouring sounds would mix with the more 
 distant, and the whole would produce in the 
 ear nothing but tumult and confusion. 
 
 Hearing is a much more necessary sense to 
 man than to animals. With these it is only 
 a warning against danger, or an encourage- 
 ment to mutual assistance. In man, it is the 
 source of most of his pleasure; and without 
 which the rest of his senses would be of little 
 benefit. A man born deaf, must necessarily 
 be dumb ; and his whole sphere of knowledge 
 must be bounded only by sensual objects. 
 We have an instance of a young man, who, 
 being born deaf, was restored at the age of 
 twenty-four to perfect hearing : the account 
 is given in the Memoirs of the Academy of 
 Sciences, 1703, page 18. 
 
 A young man, of the town of Chartres, be- 
 tween the age of twenty-three and twenty- 
 four, the son of a tradesman, and deaf and 
 dumb from his birth, began to speak all of a 
 sudden, to the great astonishment of the 
 whole town. He gave them to understand, 
 that about three or four months before, he had 
 heard the sound of the bells for the first time, 
 and was greatly surprised at this new and un- 
 known sensation. After some time, a kind of 
 water issued from his left ear, and he then 
 heard perfectly well with both. During these 
 three months, he was sedulously employed in 
 listening without saying a word, and accus- 
 toming himself to speak softly (so as not to 
 be heard) the words pronounced by others. 
 He laboured hard also in perfecting himself 
 
168 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 in the pronunciation, and in the ideas attached 
 to every sound. At length, having supposed 
 himself qualified to break silence, he declared, 
 that he could now speak, although as yet but 
 imperfectly. Soon after, some able divines 
 questioned him concerning his ideas of his past 
 state ; and principally with respect to God, 
 his soul, the morality or turpitude of actions. 
 The young man, however, had not driven his 
 solitary speculations into that channel. He 
 had gone to mass indeed with his parents, and 
 learned to sign himself with the cross, to kneel 
 down and assume all the grimaces of a man 
 that was praying ; but he did all this without 
 any manner of knowledge of the intention or 
 the cause ; he saw others do the like, and that 
 was enough for him ; he knew nothing even 
 of death, and it never entered into his head ; 
 he led a life of pure animal instinct ; entirely 
 taken up with sensible objects, and such as 
 were present, he did not seem even to make as 
 many reflections upon these, as might reason- 
 ably be expected from his improving situation; 
 and yet the young man was not in want of 
 understanding; but the understanding of a 
 man deprived of all commerce with others, is 
 so very confined, that the mind is in some 
 
 measure totally under the control of its imme- 
 diate sensations. 
 
 Notwithstanding, it is very possible to com- 
 municate ideas to deaf men, which they pre- 
 viously wanted, and even give them very pre- 
 cise notions of some abstract subjects, by means 
 of signs and of letters. A person born deaf, 
 may, by time, and sufficient pains, be taught 
 to write and read, to speak, and by the motions 
 of the lips, to understand what is said to him ; 
 however, it is probable that, as most of the 
 motions of speech are made within the mouth 
 by the tongue, the knowledge from the motion of 
 the lips is but very confined : " nevertheless, I 
 have conversed with a gentleman thus taught, 
 and in all the commonly occurring questions, 
 and the usual salutations, he was ready enough, 
 merely by attending to the motion of the lips 
 alone. When I ventured to speak for a short 
 continuance, he was totally at a loss, although 
 he understood the subject, when written, ex- 
 tremely well." Persons taught in this manner, 
 were at first considered as prodigies ; but there 
 have been so many instances of success of late, 
 and so many are skilful in the art of instruct- 
 ing in this way, that though still a matter of some 
 curiosity, it ceases to be an object of wonder. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 OF SMELLING, FEELING, AND TASTING. 
 
 AN animal may be said to fill up that sphere 
 which he can reach by his senses ; and is ac- 
 tually large in proportion to the sphere to which 
 its organ extends. By sight, man's enjoyments 
 are diffused into a wide circle ; that of hearing, 
 though less widely diffused, nevertheless ex- 
 tends his powers ; the sense of smelling is more 
 contracted still ; and the taste and touch are 
 the most confined of all. Thus man enjoys 
 very distant objects but with one sense only ; 
 more nearly he brings two senses at once to 
 bear upon them ; his sense of smelling assists 
 the other two, at its own distance ; and of such 
 objects, as a man, he may be said to be in per- 
 fect possession. 
 
 Each sense, however, the more it acts at a 
 distance, the more capable it is of making com- 
 
 binations; and is, consequently, the more im- 
 ! proveable. Refined imaginations, and men of 
 strong minds, take more pleasure, therefore, in 
 improving the delights of the distant senses, 
 than in enjoying such as are scarce capable of 
 I improvement. 
 
 By combining the objects of the extensive 
 senses, all the arts of poetry, painting, and 
 harmony, have been discovered ; but the closer 
 jj senses, if I may so call them, such as smelling, 
 tasting, and touching, are, in some measure, 
 as simple as they are limited, and admit of 
 | little variety. The man of imagination makes 
 i a great and artificial happiness by the pleasure 
 of altering and combining; the sensualist just 
 1 stops where he began, and cultivates only those 
 ! pleasures which he cannot improve. The sea 
 
ANIMALS 
 
 sualist is contented with those enjoyments that 
 are already made to his hand ; but the man of 
 pleasure is best pleased with growing happi- 
 ness. 
 
 Of all the senses, perhaps, there is not one 
 in which man is more inferior to other animals 
 than in that of smelling. With man, it is a 
 sense that acts in a narrow sphere, and disgusts 
 almost as frequently as it gives him pleasure. 
 With many other animals it is diffused to a 
 very great extent ; and never seems to offend 
 them. Dogs not only trace the steps of other 
 animals, but also discover them by the scent at 
 a very great distance ; and while they are 
 thus exquisitely ensible of all smells, they seem 
 no way disgusted by any. 
 
 But, although this sense is, in general, so 
 very inferior in man, it is much stronger in 
 those nations that abstain from animal food, 
 than among Europeans. The Bramins of India 
 have a power of smelling, as I am informed, 
 equal to what it is in most other creatures. 
 They can smell the water which they drink, 
 that to us seems quite inodorous ; and have a 
 word, in their language, which denotes a 
 country of fine water. We are told also, that 
 the negroes of the Antilles, by the smell alone, 
 can distinguish between the footsteps of a 
 Frenchman and a negro. It is possible, there- 
 fore, that we may dull this Tgan by our luxuri- 
 ous way of living ; and sacrifice to the pleasures 
 of taste, those which might be received from 
 perfume. 
 
 However, it is a sense that we can, in some 
 measure, dispense with ; and I have known 
 many that wanted it entirely, with but very 
 little inconvenience from its loss. In a state 
 of nature it is said to be useful in guiding us to 
 proper nourishment, and deterring us from that 
 which is unwholesome ; but, in our present 
 situation, such information is but little wanted ; 
 and, indeed, but little attended to. In fact, 
 the sense of smelling gives us very often false 
 intelligence. Many things that have a disagree- 
 able odour, are, nevertheless, wholesome and 
 pleasant to the taste ; and such as make eating 
 an art, seldom think a meal fit to please the appe- 
 titp, till it begins to offend the nose. On the 
 otlipr hand, there are many things that smell 
 mot gratefully, and yet are noxious, or fatal to 
 the constitution. Some physicians think that 
 perfunii-s ingeneralare unwholesome; thatthey 
 relax the nerves, produce head-aches, and even 
 
 retard digestion. The manchineel apple, which 
 is known to be deadly poison, is possessed of 
 the most grateful odour. Some of those mine- 
 ral vapours that are often found fatal in the 
 stomach, smell like the sweetest flowers, and 
 continue thus to flatter till they destroy. This 
 sense, therefore, as it should seem, was never 
 meant to direct us in the choice of food, but 
 appears rather as an attendant than a necessary 
 pleasure. 
 
 Indeed, if we examine the natives of different 
 countries, or even different natives of the same, 
 we shall find no pleasure in which they differ 
 so widely as that of smelling. Some persons 
 are pleased with the smell of a rose ; while I 
 have known others that could not abide to have 
 it approach them. The savage nations are 
 highly delighted with the smell of assafcetidn, 
 which is to us the most nauseous stink in nature. 
 It would in a manner seem that our delight in 
 perfumes was made by habit ; and that a very 
 little industry could bring us totally to invert 
 the perception of odours. 
 
 Thus much is certain, that many bodies 
 which at one distance are an agreeable perfume, 
 when nearer are a most ungrateful odour. 
 Musk and ambergrise, in small quantities, are 
 considered by most persons as highly fragrant; 
 and yet, when in larger masses, their scent is 
 insufferable. From a mixture of two bodies, 
 each whereof is, of itself, void of all smell, a 
 very powerful smell may be drawn. Thus, by 
 grinding quick-lime with sal-ammoniac, may 
 be produced a very fcetid mixture. On the 
 contrary, from a mixture of two bodies, that 
 are separately disagreeable, a very pleasant 
 aromatic odour may be gained. A mixture of 
 aqua-fortis with spirit of wine produces this 
 effect. But not only the alterations of bodies 
 by each other, but the smallest change in us, 
 makes a very great alteration in this sense, and 
 frequently deprives us of it totally. A slight 
 cold often hinders us from smelling ; and as 
 often changes the nature of odours. Some 
 persons, from disorder, retain an incurable 
 aversion to those smells which most pleased 
 them before : and many have been known to 
 have an antipathy to some animals, whose 
 presence they instantly perceived by the smell. 
 From all this, therefore, the sense of smelling 
 appears to be an uncertain monitor, easily dis- 
 ordered, and not much missed when totally 
 wanting. 
 
170 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 The sense most nearly allied to smelling is 
 that of tasting. This, some have been willing 
 to consider merely as a nicer kind of touch, 
 and have undertaken to account, in a very 
 mechanical manner, for the difference of sa- 
 vours. " Such bodies," said they, " as are 
 pointed, happening to be applied to the papillte 
 of the tongue, excite a very powerful sensation, 
 and give us the idea of saltness. Such, on the 
 contrary, as are of a rounder figure, slide 
 smoothly along the papillae, and are perceived 
 to be sweet." In this manner they have with 
 minute labour, gone through the variety of 
 imagined forms in bodies, and have given them 
 as imaginary effects. All we can precisely 
 determine upon the nature of tastes is, that the 
 bodies to be tasted must be either somewhat 
 moistened, or, in some measure, dissolved by 
 the saliva, before they can produce a proper 
 sensation : when both the tongue itself and the 
 body to be tasted are extremely dry, no taste 
 whatever ensues. The sensation is then chang- 
 ed ; and the tongue instead of tasting, can only 
 be said, like any other part of the body, to feel 
 the object. 
 
 It is for this reason that children have a 
 stronger relish of tastes than those who are 
 more advanced in life. This organ with them, 
 from the greater moisture of their bodies, is 
 kept in greater perfection ; and is, consequent- 
 ly, better adapted to perform its functions. 
 Every person remembers how great a pleasure 
 he found in sweets, while a child ; but his taste 
 growing more obtuse with age, he is obliged to 
 use artificial means to excite it. It is then that 
 he is found to call in the assistance of poignant 
 sauces, and strong relishes of salts and aroma- 
 tics ; all which the delicacy of his tender organ 
 in childhood was unable to endure. His taste 
 grows callous to the natural relishes, and is 
 artificially formed t others more unnatural ; 
 so that the highest epicure may be said to have 
 the most depraved taste ; as it is owing to the 
 bluntness of his organ, that he is obliged to have 
 recourse to such a variety of expedients to 
 gratify his appetite. 
 
 As smells are often rendered agreeable by 
 habit, so also tastes may be. Tobacco and 
 coffee, so pleasing to many, are yet, atfirst,very 
 disagreeable to all. It is not without perseve- 
 rance that we begin to have a relish for them ; we 
 force nature so long, that what was constraint 
 in the beginning, at last becomes inclination. 
 
 The grossest, and yet the most useful of all 
 the senses, is that of feeling. We are often 
 seen to survive under the loss of the rest ; but 
 of this we can never be totally deprived, but 
 with life. Although this sense is diffused over 
 all parts of the body, yet it most frequently 
 happens that those parts which are most exer- 
 cised in touching, acquire the greatest degree 
 of accuracy. Thus the fingers, by long habit, 
 become greater masters in the art than any 
 other, even where the sensation is more delicate 
 and fine." It is from this habit, therefore, and 
 their peculiar formation, and not as is suppos- 
 ed, from their being furnished with a greater 
 quantity of nerves, that the fingers are thus 
 perfectly qualified to judge of forms. Blind 
 men, who are obliged to use them much oftener, 
 have this sense much finer; so that the delicacy 
 of the touch arises rather from the habit of 
 constantly employing the fingers, than from 
 any fancied nervousness in their conformation. 
 
 All animals that are furnished with hands" 
 seem to have more understanding than others. 
 Monkeys have so many actions like those of 
 men, that they appear to have similar ideas of 
 the form of bodies. All other creatures, 
 deprived of hands, can have no distinct ideas 
 of the shape of the objects by which they are 
 surrounded, as they want this organ, which 
 serves to examine and measure their forms, 
 their risings, and depressions. A quadruped, 
 probably, conceives as erroneous an idea of 
 any thing near him, as a child would of a rock 
 or a mountain that it beheld at a distance. 
 
 It may be for this reason, that we often see 
 them frighted at things with which they ought 
 to be better acquainted. Fishes, whose bodies 
 are covered with scales, and who have no 
 organs for feeling, must be the most stupid of 
 all animals. Serpents, that are likewise desti- 
 tute, are yet, by winding round several bodies, 
 better capable of judging of their form. All 
 these, however, can have but very imperfect 
 ideas from feeling; and we have already seen, 
 when deprived of this sense, how little the rest 
 of the senses are to be relied on. 
 
 The feeling, therefore, is the guardian, the 
 judge, and the examiner of all the rest of the 
 senses. It establishes their information, and 
 detects their errors. All the other senses are 
 altered by time, and contradict their former 
 
 Buffon, vol. vi. p. 80. 
 
 b Ibid. vol. vi. p. 82. 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 171 
 
 evidence ; but the touch still continues the 
 same ; and, though extremely confined in its 
 operations, yet it is never found to deceive. 
 The universe, to a man who had only used the 
 rest of his senses, would be but a scene of 
 illusion ; every object misrepresented, and all 
 its properties unknown. Mr. Button has im- 
 agined a man justnewly brought into existence, 
 describing the illusion of his first sensations, 
 and pointing out the steps by which he arrived 
 at reality. He considers him as just created, 
 and awaking amidst the productions of nature ; 
 and, to animate the narrative still more strong- 
 ly, has made his philosophical man a speaker. 
 The reader will no doubt recollect Adam's 
 speech in Milton as being similar. All that I 
 can say to obviate the imputation of plagiarism 
 is, that the one treats the subject more as a 
 poet, the other more as a philosopher. The 
 philosopher's man describes his first sensations 
 in the following manner." 
 
 I well remember that joyful anxious moment 
 when I first became acquainted with my own 
 existence. I was quite ignorant of what I was, 
 bow I was produced, or from whence I came. 
 I opened my eyes ; what an addition to my 
 surprise ! the light of the day, the azure vault 
 of heaven, the verdure of the earth, the crystal 
 of the waters, all employed me at once, and 
 animated and filled me with inexpressible de- 
 light. I at first imagined that all those objects 
 were within me, and made a part of myself. 
 
 Impressed with this idea, I turned my eyes 
 to the sun ; its splendour dazzled and over- 
 powered me: I shut them once more; and, to 
 my great concern, I supposed that during this 
 short interval of darkness, I was again return- 
 ing to nothing. 
 
 Afflicted, seized with astonishment, I ponder- 
 ed a mo.nent on this great change, when I 
 heard a variety of unexpected sounds. The 
 whistling of the wind, and the melody of the 
 groves, formed a concert, the soft cadence of 
 which sunk upon my soul. I listened for 
 some time, and was persuaded that all this 
 music was within me. 
 
 Quite occupied with this new kind of ex- 
 istence, I had already forgotten the light, which 
 was my first inlet into life ; when I once more 
 opened my eyes, and found myself again in 
 possession of my former happiness. The gra- 
 
 Buffbn, vol. vi. p. 88. 
 
 tification of the two senses at once, was a 
 pleasure too great for utterance. 
 
 I turned my eyes upon a thousand various 
 objects; I soon found that I could lose them, 
 and restore them at will ; and amused myself 
 more at leisure with a repetition of this new- 
 made power. 
 
 I now began to gaze without emotion, and 
 to hearken with tranquillity, when a light 
 breeze, the freshness of which charmed me, 
 wafted its perfumes to my sense of smelling, 
 and gave me such satisfaction as even increas- 
 ed my self-love. 
 
 Agitated, roused by the various pleasures of 
 my new existence, I instantly arose, and per- 
 ceived myself moved along, as if by some un- 
 known and secret power. 
 
 I had scarcely proceeded forward, when 
 the novelty of my situation once more render- 
 ed me immoveable. My surprise returned ; 1 
 supposed that every object around me had been 
 in motion ; I gave to them that agitation which 
 I produced by changing place ; and the whole 
 creation seemed once more in disorder. 
 
 I lifted my hand to my head ; I touched my 
 forehead ; I felt my whole frame : I then sup- 
 posed that my hand was the principal organ 
 of my existence ; all its informations were 
 distinct and perfect, and so superior to the 
 senses I had yet experienced, that I employed 
 myself for some time in repeating its enjoy- 
 ments ; every part of my person I touched, 
 seemed to touch my hand in turn ; and gave 
 back sensation for sensation. 
 
 1 soon found that this faculty was expanded 
 over the whole surface of my body ; and I now 
 first began to perceive the limits of my existence, 
 which I had in the beginning supposed spread 
 over all the objects I saw. 
 
 Upon casting my eyes upon my body, and 
 surveying my own form, I thought it greater 
 than all the objects that surrounded me. I gaz- 
 ed upon rny person with pleasure ; I examined 
 the formation of my hand, and all its motions; 
 it seemed to me large or little in proportion as 
 I approached it to my eyes ; I brought it very 
 near, and it then hid almost every other object 
 from my sight. I began soon, however, to 
 find that my sight gave me uncertain informa- 
 tion, and resolved to depend upon my feeling 
 for redress. 
 
 This precaution was of the utmost service ; 
 I renewed my motions, and walked forward 
 
 21 
 
172 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 with my face turned towards the heavens. I 
 happened to strike lightly against a palm-tree, 
 and this renewed my surprise : I laid my hand 
 on this strange body ; it seemed replete with 
 new wonders, for it did not return me sensa- 
 tion for sensation, as my former feelings had 
 done. I perceived that there was something 
 external, and which did not make a part of my 
 own existence. 
 
 I now, therefore, resolved to touch whatever 
 I saw, and vainly attempted to touch the sun ; 
 I stretched forth my arm, and felt only yielding 
 air : at every effort, I fell from one surprise in- 
 to another, for every object appeared equally 
 near me ; and it was not till after an infinity 
 of trials, that I found some objects farther re- 
 moved than the rest. 
 
 Amazed with the illusions, and the uncer- 
 tainty of my state, I sat down beneath a tree ; 
 the most beautiful fruits hung upon it, within 
 my reach ; I stretched forth my hand, and they 
 instantly separated from the branch. I was 
 proud of being able to grasp a substance with- 
 out me ; I held them up, and their weight ap- 
 peared to me like an animated power that en- 
 deavoured to draw them to the earth. I found 
 a pleasure in conquering their resistance. 
 
 I held them near my eye ; I considered their 
 form and beauty ; their fragrance still more 
 allured me to bring them nearer ; I approach- 
 ed them to my lips, and drank in their odours ; 
 the perfume invited my sense of tasting, and 1 
 soon tried a new sense How new ! how ex- 
 quisite ! Hitherto I had tasted only of pleasure ; 
 
 but now it was luxury. The power of tasting 
 gave me the idea of possession. 
 
 Flattered with this new acquisition, I con- 
 tinued its excercise, till an agreeable languor 
 stealing upon my mind, I felt all my limbs be- 
 come heavy, and all my desires suspended. 
 My sensations were now no longer vivid and 
 distinct ; but seemed to lose every object, and 
 presented only feeble images, confusedly mark- 
 ed. At that instant I sunk upon the flowery 
 bank, and slumber seized me. All now seem- 
 ed once more lost to me. It was then as if I 
 was returning to my former nothing. How 
 long my sleep continued, I cannot tell ; as I 
 yet had no perception of time. My awaking 
 appeared like a second birth ; ami I then per- 
 ceived that I had ceased for a time to exist. 
 This produced a new sensation of fear ; and 
 from this interruption in life, I began to con- 
 clude that I was not formed to exist for 
 ever. 
 
 In this state of doubt and perplexity, I be- 
 gan to harbour new suspicions ; and to frar 
 that sleep had robbed me of some of my late 
 powers ; when turning on one side, to resolve 
 my doubts, what was my amazement, to be- 
 hold another being like myself, stretched by 
 my side ! New ideas now began to arise ; 
 new passions, as yet unperceived, with fears 
 and pleasures, all took possession of my mind, 
 and prompted my curiosity : love served to 
 complete that happiness which was begun in 
 the individual ; and every sense was gratified 
 in all its varieties. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 OF OLD AGE AND DEATH. 1 
 
 EVERY thing in nature has its improve- 
 ment and decay. The human form is no soon- 
 er arrived at its state of perfection, than it be- 
 gins to decline. The alteration is at first in- 
 sensible ; and often several years are elap- 
 sed before we find ourselves grown old. The 
 news of this disagreeable change too gene- 
 rally comes from without ; and we learn from 
 
 This chapter is taken from Mr. Buffon, except where 
 it is marked by inverted commas. 
 
 others that we grow old, before we are wil- 
 ling to believe the report. 
 
 When the body has come to its full height, 
 and is extended into its justdimensions; it then 
 also begins to receive an additional bulk, which 
 rather loads than assists it. This is formed 
 from fat; which generally at the age of thirty- 
 five, or forty, covers all the muscles, and inter- 
 rupts their activity. Every action is then per- 
 formed with greater labour, and the increase 
 of size only serves as a forerunner of decay. 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 173 
 
 The bones, also, become every day more 
 solid. In the embryo they are as soft almost 
 as the muscles of the flesh ; but by degrees 
 they harden, and acquire their natural vigour; 
 but still, however, the circulation is carried 
 on through them, and, how hard soever the 
 bones may seem, yet the blood holds its cur- 
 rent through them, as through all other parts 
 of the body. Of this we may he convinced, 
 by an experiment, which was first accidental- 
 ly discovered by our ingenious countryman 
 Mr. Belcher. Perceiving at a friend's house, 
 that the bones of hogs, which were fed upon 
 madder, were red, he tried it upon various 
 animals by mixing this root with their usual 
 food ; and he found that it tinctured the bones 
 in all ; an evident demonstration that the jui- 
 ces of the body had a circulation through the 
 bones. He fed some animals alternately 
 upon madder and their common food, for some 
 time, and he found their bones tinctured with 
 alternate layers, in conformity to their man- 
 ner of living. From all this he naturally con- 
 cluded, that the blood circulated through the 
 bones, as it does through every other part of 
 the body; and that, how solid soever they 
 seemed, yet, like the softest parts, they were 
 furnished through all their substance, with 
 their proper canals. Nevertheless, these ca- 
 nals are of very different capacities, during 
 the different stages of life. In infancy they 
 are capacious ; and the blood flows almost as 
 freely through the bones as through any 
 other part of the body : in manhood their size 
 is greatly diminished ;. their vessels are almost 
 imperceptible; and the circulation through 
 them is proportionably slow. But, in the de- 
 cline of life, the blood which flows through 
 the bones, no longer contributing to their 
 growth, must necessarily serve to increase 
 their hardness. The channels that every 
 where run through the human frame, may be 
 compared to those pipes that we every where 
 see crusted on the inside, by the water, for a 
 long continuance, running through them. 
 Both every day grow less and less, by the 
 small rigid particles which are deposited 
 within them. Thus as the vessels are by de- 
 grees diminished, the juices also, which were 
 necessary for the circulation through them, 
 are diminished in proportion ; till at length, 
 in old age, those props of the human 
 
 frame are not only more solid, but more 
 brittle. 
 
 The cartilages, or gristles, which may be 
 considered as bones beginning to be formed, 
 grow also more rigid. The juices circulating 
 through them, for there is a circulation through 
 all parts of the body, every day contribute to 
 render them harder ; so that these substances, 
 which, in youth, are elastic and pliant, in age 
 become hard and bony. As these cartilages 
 are generally placed near the joints, the mo- 
 tion of the joints also must, of consequence, be- 
 come more difficult. Thus, in old age, every 
 action of the body is performed with labour ; 
 and the cartilages, formerly so supple, will now 
 sooner break than bend. 
 
 " As the cartilages acquire hardness, and un- 
 fit the joints for motion, so also that mucous li- 
 quor, which is always separated between the 
 joints, and which serves, like oil to a hinge, to 
 give them an easy and ready play, is now 
 grown more scanty. It becomes thicker, and 
 more clammy, more unfit for answering the 
 purposes of motion ; and from thence, in old 
 age, every joint is not only stiff, but awkward. 
 At every motion this clammy liquor is heard 
 to crack ; and it is not without the greatest 
 effort of the muscles that its resistance is over- 
 come. I have seen an old person, who never 
 moved a single joint, that did not thus give no- 
 tice of the violence done to it." 
 
 The membranes that cover the bones, the 
 joints, and the rest of the body, become, as we 
 grow old, more dense and more dry. Those 
 which surround the bones, soon cease to be 
 ductile. The fibres, of which the muscles or 
 flesh is composed, become every day more ri- 
 gid ; and while to the touch the body seems, 
 as we advance in years, to grow softer, it is, 
 in reality increasing in hardness. It is the 
 skin, and not the flesh, that we feel upon'such 
 occasions. The fat, and the flabbiness of that, 
 seems to give an appearance of softness, which 
 the flesh itself is very far from having. There 
 are few can doubt this, after trying the differ- 
 ence between the flesh of young and old ani- 
 mals. The first is soft and tender, the last is 
 hard and dry. 
 
 The skin is the only part of the body that 
 age does not contribute to harden. That 
 stretches to every degree of tension ; and we 
 have horrid instances of its pliancy, in many 
 disorders incident to humanity. * In youth 
 
 21* 
 
174 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 therefore, while the body is vigorous and in- 
 creasing, it still gives way to its growth. But, 
 although it thus adapts itself to our increase, 
 it does not in the same manner conform to our 
 decay. The skin, which, in youth was filled 
 and glossy, when the body begins to decline 
 has not elasticity enough to shrink entirely 
 with its diminution. It hangs, therefore, in 
 wrinkles, which no art can remove. The 
 wrinkles of the body, in general, proceed 
 from this cause. But those of the face seem 
 to proceed from another; namely, from the 
 many varieties of positions into which it is put 
 by the speech, the food, or the passions. 
 Every grimace, and every passion, wrinkles 
 up the visage into different forms. These 
 are visible enough in young persons : but 
 what at first was accidental or transitory, be- 
 eomes unalterably fixed in the visage as it 
 grows older. " From hence we may conclude, 
 that a freedom from passions not only adds 
 to the happiness of the mind, but preserves 
 the beauty of the face; and the person that 
 has not felt their influence, is less strongly 
 marked by the decays of nature." 
 
 Hence, therefore, as we advance in age, 
 the bones, the cartilages, the membranes, the 
 flesh, the skin, and every fibre of the body, 
 become more solid, more brittle, and more 
 dry. Every part shrinks, every motion be- 
 comes more slow : the circulation of the fluids 
 is performed with less freedom ; perspiration 
 diminishes ; the secretions alter ; the diges- 
 tion becomes slow and laborious ; and the 
 juices no longer serving to convey their ac- 
 customed nourishment, those parts may be 
 said to live no longer when the circulation 
 ceases. Thus the body dies by little and lit- 
 tle ; all its functions are diminished by de- 
 grees ; life is driven from one part of the frame 
 to another; universal rigidity prevails; and 
 death at last seizes upon the little that is left. 
 
 As the bones, the cartilages, the muscles, 
 and all other parts of the body, are softer in 
 women than in men, these parts must, of con- 
 sequence, require a longer time to come to 
 that hardness which hastens death. Women, 
 therefore, ought to be a longer time in grow- 
 ing old than men; and this is actually the case. 
 If we consult the tables which have been 
 drawn up respecting human life, we shall find 
 that, after a certain age, they are more long- 
 
 lived than men, all other circumstances the 
 same. A woman of sixty has a better chance 
 than a man of the same age to live till eighty. 
 Upon the whole, we may infer, that such per- 
 sons as have been slow in coming up to ma- 
 turity, will also be slow in growing old ; and 
 this holds as well with regard to other ani- 
 mals as to man. 
 
 The whole duration of the life of either 
 vegetables or animals, may be, in some measure, 
 determined from their manner of coming to 
 maturity. The tree, or the animal, which 
 takes but a short time to increase to its utmost 
 pitch, perishes much sooner than such as are 
 less premature. In both the increase upwards 
 is first accomplished ; and not till they have 
 acquired their greatest degree of height do they 
 b<>gin to spread in bulk. Man grows in stature 
 till about the age of seventeen ; but his body is 
 not completely develovedtillabout thirty. Dogs, 
 on the other hand, are at their utmost size in 
 a year, and become as bulky as they usually 
 are in another. However, man, who is so long 
 in growing, continues to live fourscore, or a 
 hundred years; but the dog seldom above 
 twelve or thirteen. In general, also, it may be 
 said, that large animals live longer than little 
 ones, as they usually take a longer time to 
 grow. But in all animals, one thing is equally 
 certain, that they carry the cause of their own 
 decay about them ; and that their deaths are 
 necessary and inevitable. The prospects which 
 some visionaries have formed of perpetuating 
 life by remedies, have been often enough prov- 
 ed false by their own example. Such unac- 
 countable schemes would, therefore, have died 
 with them, had not the love of life always 
 augmented our credulity. 
 
 When the body is naturally well formed, it 
 is possible to lengthen out the period of life for 
 some years by management. Temperance in 
 diet is often found conducive to this end. The 
 famous Cornaro, who lived to above a hundred 
 years, although his constitution was naturally 
 feeble, is a strong instance of the benefit of an 
 abstemious life. Moderation in the passions 
 also may contribute to extend the term of our 
 existence. " Fontenelle, the celebrated writer, 
 was naturally of a very weak and delicate 
 habit of body. He was affected by the small- 
 est irregularities ; and had frequently suffered 
 severe fits of illness from the slightest causes. 
 But the remarkable equality of his temper, and 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 his seeming want of passion, lengthened out 
 his life to above a hundred. It was re- 
 markable of him, that nothing could vex or 
 make him uneasy ; every occurrence seemed 
 equally pleasing ; and no event, however un- 
 fortunate, seemed to come unexpected." How- 
 ever, the term of life can be prolonged but for 
 a very little time by any art we can use. We 
 are told of men who have lived beyond the 
 ordinary duration of human existence; such as 
 Parr, who lived to a hundred and forty-four ; 
 and Jenkins, to a hundred and sixty-five ; yet 
 these men used no peculiar arts to prolong life ; 
 on the contrary, it appears that these, as well 
 as others, remarkable for their longevity, were 
 peasants accustomed to the greatest fatigues, 
 who had no settled rules of diet, but who often 
 indulged in accidental excesses. Indeed, if we 
 consider that the European, the Negro, the 
 Chinese, and the American, the civilized man 
 and the savage, the rich and the poor, the in- 
 habitant of the city and of the country, though 
 all so different in other respects, are yet entirely 
 similar in the period allotted them for living ; 
 if we consider that neither the difference of 
 race, of climate, of nourishment, of conveni- 
 ence, or of soil, makes any difference in the 
 term of life ; if we consider that those men 
 who live upon raw flesh, or dried fishes, upon 
 sago, or rice, upon cassava, or upon roots, 
 nevertheless live as long as those who are fed 
 upon bread and meat ; we shall readily be 
 brought to acknowledge, that the duration of 
 life depends neither upon habit, customs, or the 
 quantity of food ; we shall confess, that no- 
 thing can change the laws of that mechanism 
 which regulates the number of our years, and 
 \vhich can chiefly be affected only by long fast- 
 ing, or great excess. 
 
 If there be any difference in the different 
 periods of man's existence, it ought principally 
 to be ascribed to the quality of the air. It has 
 been observed, that in elevated situations there 
 have been found more old people than in those 
 that were low. The mountains of Scotland, 
 Wales, Auvergne, and Switzerland, have fur- 
 nished more instances of extreme old age, than 
 the plains of Holland, Flanders, Germany, or 
 Poland. But, in general, the duration of life 
 is nearly the same in most countries. Man, if 
 not cut off by accidental diseases, is often found 
 to live to ninety or a hundred years. Our 
 ancestors did not live beyond that date : and, 
 
 since the times of David, this term has under- 
 gone little alteration. 
 
 If we be asked, how in the beginning men 
 lived so much longer than at present, and by 
 what means their lives were extended to nine 
 hundred and thirty, or even nine hundred and 
 sixty years ; it may be answered, that the pro- 
 ductions of the earth, upon which they fed, 
 might be of a different nature at that time 
 from what they are at present. " It may be 
 answered, that the term was abridged by Di- 
 vine command, in order to keep the earth 
 from being overstocked with human inhabi- 
 tants; since, if every person were now to live 
 and generate for nine hundred years, mankind 
 would be increased to such a degree, that 
 there would be no room for subsistence : so 
 that the plan of Providence would be altered ; 
 which is seen not to produce life without pro- 
 viding a proper supply." 
 
 But to whatever extent life may be prolong- 
 ed, or however some may have delayed the 
 effects of age, death is the certain goal to 
 Avhich all are hastening. All the causes of de- 
 cay which have been mentioned contribute 
 to bring on this dreaded dissolution. How- 
 ever, nature approaches to this awful period 
 by slow and imperceptible degrees; life is 
 consumed day after day; and some one of 
 our faculties, or vital principles, is every hour 
 dying before the rest ; so that death is only 
 the last shade in the picture ; and it is proba- 
 ble that man suffers a greater change in going 
 from youth to age, than from age into the 
 grave. When we first begin to live, our lives 
 may scarcely be said to be our own ; as the 
 child grows, life increases in the same propor- 
 tion ; and is at its height in the prime of man- 
 hood. But as soon as the body begins to de- 
 crease, life decreases also ; for as the human 
 frame diminishes, and its juices circulate in 
 smaller quantity, life diminishesand circulates 
 with less vigour ; so that as we begin to live 
 by degrees, we begin to die in the same man- 
 ner. 
 
 Why then should we fear death, if our lives 
 have been such as not to make eternity dread- 
 ful ? Why should we fear that moment, which 
 is prepared by a thousand other moments of 
 the same kind ? the first pangs of sickness be- 
 ing probably greater than the last struggles 
 of departure. Death, in most persons, is as 
 
170 
 
 A HISTORY OP 
 
 calmly endured as the disorder that brings it 
 on. If we inquire from those whose business 
 it is to attend the sick and the dying, we shall 
 find that, except in a very few acute cases, 
 where the patient dies in agonies, the greatest 
 number die quietly, and seemingly without 
 pain : and even the agonies of the former ra- 
 ther terrify the spectators than torment the 
 patient ; for how many have we not seen who 
 have been accidentally relieved from this ex- 
 tremity, and yet had no memory of what they 
 then endured ? In fact, they had ceased to 
 live during that time when they ceased to 
 have sensation ; and their pains were only 
 those of which they had an idea. 
 
 The greatest number of mankind die, there- 
 fore, without sensation ; arid of those few that 
 still preserve their faculties entire to the last 
 moment, there is scarcely one of them that 
 does not also preserve the hopes of still out- 
 living his disorder. Nature, for the happiness 
 of man, has rendered this sentiment stronger 
 than his reason. A person dying of an incu- 
 rable disorder, which he must know to be so, 
 by frequent examples of his case ; which he 
 perceives to be so by the inquietude of all 
 around him, by the tears of his friends, and 
 the departure or the face of the physician, is, 
 nevertheless, still in hopes of getting over it. 
 His interest is so great, that he only attends 
 to his own representations; the judgment of 
 others is considered as a hasty conclusion ; 
 and while death every moment makes new in- 
 roads upon his constitution, and destroys life 
 in some part, hope still seems to escape the 
 universal ruin, and is the last that submits to 
 the blow. 
 
 Cast your eyes upon a sick man, who has 
 a hundred times told you that he felt himself 
 dying, ; .that he was convinced he could not 
 recover, and that he was ready to expire; 
 examine what passes on his visage, when, 
 through zeal or indiscretion, any one comes 
 to tell him that his end is at hand. You will 
 see him change, like one who is told an un- 
 expected piece of news. He now appears 
 not to have thoroughly believed what he had 
 been telling you himself: he doubted much ; 
 and his fears were greater than his hopes ; 
 but he still had some feeble expectations of 
 living, and would not have seen the ap- 
 proaches of death, unless he had been alarm- 
 
 ed by the mistaken assiduity of his atten- 
 dants. 
 
 Death, therefore, is not that terrible thing 
 which we suppose it to be. It is a spectre 
 which frights us at a distance, but which dis- 
 appears when we come to approach it more 
 closely. Our ideas of its terrors are conceiv- 
 ed in prejudice, and dressed up by fancy : we 
 regard it not only as the greatest misfortune, 
 but as also an evil accompanied with the most 
 excruciating tortures ; we have even increas- 
 ed our apprehensions, by reasoning on the 
 extent of our sufferings. "It must be dread- 
 ful," say some, " since it is sufficient to sepa- 
 rate the soul from the body : it must be long, 
 since our sufferings are proportioned to the 
 succession of our ideas; and these being pain- 
 ful, must succeed each other with extreme ra- 
 pidity." In this manner has false philosophy 
 laboured to augment the miseries of our na- 
 ture ; and to aggravate that period which Na- 
 ture has kindly covered with insensibility. 
 Neither the mind nor the body can suffer these 
 calamities : the mind is, at that time, mostly 
 without ideas ; and the body too much enfee- 
 bled to be capable of perceiving its pain. 
 A very acute pain produces either death or 
 fainting, which is a state similar to death : the 
 body can suffer but to a certain degree ; if 
 the torture become excessive, it destroys it- 
 self; and the mind ceases to perceive, when 
 the body can no longer endure. 
 
 In this manner, excessive pain admits of no 
 reflection : and wherever there are any signs 
 of it, we may be sure that the sufferings of the 
 patient are no greater than what we ourselves 
 may have remembered to endure. 
 
 But, in the article of death, we have many 
 instances in which the dying person has shown 
 that very reflection which presupposes an ab- 
 sence of the greatest pain; and, consequently, 
 that pang which ends life cannot even be so 
 great as those which have preceded. Thus, 
 when Charles XII. was shot at the siege of 
 Frederickshall, he was seen to clap his hand 
 on the hilt of his sword; and although the 
 blow was great enough to terminate one of 
 the boldest and bravest lives in the world, 
 yet it was not painful enough to destroy re- 
 flection. He perceived himself attacked ; 
 he reflected that he ought to defend himself; 
 and his body obeyed the impulse of his mind, 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 177 
 
 even in the last extremity. Thus it is the 
 prejudice of persons in health, and not the 
 body in pain, that makes us suffer from the 
 approach of death; we have all our lives con- 
 tracted a habit of making out excessive plea- 
 sures and pains ; arid nothing but repeated ex- 
 perience shows us how seldom the one can be 
 suffered, or the other enjoyed to the utmost. 
 If there be any thing necessary to confirm 
 what we have said concerning the gradual 
 cessation of life, or the insensible approaches 
 of our end, nothing can more effectually prove 
 it than the uncertainty of the signs of death. 
 If we consult what Winslow or Bruhier have 
 said upon this subject, we shall be convinced, 
 that between life and death the shade is so 
 very undistinguishable, that even all the pow- 
 ers of art can scarcely determine where the 
 one ends, and the other begins. The colour 
 of the visage, the warmth of the body, the sup- 
 pleness of the joints, are but uncertain signs 
 of life still subsisting ; while, on the contrary, 
 the paleness of the complexion, the coldness 
 of the body, the stiffness of the extremities, 
 the cessation of all motion, and the total in- 
 sensibility of the parts, are but uncertain 
 
 marks of death begun. In the same manner, 
 also, with regard to the pulse and the breath- 
 ing, these motions are often so kept under, 
 that it is impossible to perceive them. By ap- 
 proaching a looking-glass to the mouth of the 
 person supposed to be dead, people often ex- 
 pect to find whether he breathes or not. But 
 this is a very uncertain experiment : the glass 
 is frequently sullied by the vapour of the dead 
 man's body ; and often the person is still 
 alive, although the glass is no way tarnished. 
 In the same manner, neither burning nor 
 scarifying, neither noises in the ears nor pun- 
 gent spirits applied to the nostrils, give certain 
 signs of the discontinuance of life ; and there 
 are many instances of persons who have en- 
 dured them all, and afterwards recovered 
 without any external assistance, to the asto- 
 nishment of the spectators. How careful, 
 therefore, should we be, before we commit 
 those w ho are dearest to us to the grave, to be 
 well assured of their departure: experience, 
 justice, humanity, all persuade us not to has- 
 ten the funerals of our friends, but to keep 
 their bodies unburied, until we have certain 
 signs of their real decease. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 OF THE VARIETIES IN THE HUMAN RACE. 
 
 HITHERTO we have compared man with 
 other animals; we now come to compare men 
 with each other. We have hitherto consider- 
 ed him as an individual, endowed with ex- 
 cellencies above the rest of the creation ; we 
 now come to consider the advantages which 
 men have over men, and the various kinds 
 with which our earth is inhabited. 
 
 If we compare the minute differences of 
 mankind, there is scarce one nation upon the 
 earth that entirely resembles another; and 
 there may be said to be as many different 
 kinds of men as there are countries inhabited. 
 One polished nation does not differ more from 
 another, than the merest savages do from 
 those savages that lie even contiguous to 
 them ; and it frequently happens that a river, 
 
 or a mountain, divides two barbarous tribes 
 that are unlike each other in manners, customs, 
 features, and complexion. But these differ- 
 ences,however perceivable, do not form such 
 distinctions as come within a general picture 
 of the varieties of mankind. Custom,accidcnt, 
 or fashion, may produce considerable altera- 
 tions in neighbouring nations ; their being 
 derived from ancestors of a different climate, 
 or complexion, may contribute to make acci- 
 dental distinctions, which every day grow less; 
 and it may be said, that two neighbouring 
 nations, how unlike soever at first, will assimi- 
 late by degrees ; and by long continuance, 
 the difference between them will at last be- 
 come almost imperceptible. It is not, there- 
 fore, between contiguous nations we are to 
 
178 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 look for any strong marked varieties in the 
 human species: it is by comparing the in- 
 habitants of opposite climates arid distant 
 countries; those who live within the polar 
 circles, with those beneath the equator; those 
 that live on one side of the globe, with those 
 that occupy the other. 
 
 Of all animals, the differences between 
 mankind are the smallest. Of the lower races 
 of creatures, the changes are so great as often 
 entirely to disguise the natural animal, and to 
 distort, or to disfigure, its shape. But the 
 chief differences in man are rather taken from 
 the tincture of his skin than the variety of his 
 figure : as in all climates he preserves his 
 erect deportment, and the marked superiority 
 of his form. If we look round the world, 
 there seem to be not above six" distinct varie- 
 ties in the human species, each of which is 
 strongly marked, and speaks the kind seldom 
 to have mixed with any other. But there is 
 nothing in the shape, nothing in the faculties, 
 that shows their coming from different origi- 
 nals ; and the varieties of climate, of nourish- 
 ment, and custom, are sufficient to produce 
 every change. 
 
 The first distinct race of men is found round 
 the polar regions. The Laplanders, the 
 Esquimaux Indians, the Samosid Tartars, the 
 inhabitants of Nova Zembla, the Borandians, 
 the Greenlanders, and the natives of Kamts- 
 chatka, may be considered as one peculiar race 
 of people, all greatly resembling each other 
 in their stature, their complexion, their cus- 
 toms, and their ignorance. These nations 
 being under a rigorous climate, where the 
 productions of nature are but few, and the 
 provisions coarse and unwholesome, their 
 bodies have shrunk to the nature of their food; 
 and their complexions have suffered, from 
 cold, almost a similar change to what heat is 
 known to produce ; their colour being a deep 
 brown, in some places inclining to actual 
 blackness. These, therefore, in general, are 
 found to be a race of short stature and odd 
 shape, with countenances as savage as their 
 manners are barbarous. The visage in these 
 countries, is large and broad, the nose flat and 
 short, the eyes of a yellowish brown, inclining 
 
 I have taken four of these varieties from Linnteus; 
 those of the Laplanders and Tartars from Mr. Buflbn. 
 
 to blackness, the eye-lids drawn towards the 
 temples, the cheek-bones extremely high, the 
 mouth very large, the lips thick and turned 
 outwards, the voice thin and squeaking, the 
 head large, the hair black and straight, the 
 colour of the skin of a dark grayish. b They are 
 short in stature, the generality not being above 
 four feet high, and the tallest not above five. 
 Among all these nations the women are as 
 deformed as the men, and resemble them so 
 nearly, that one cannot at first distinguish the 
 sexes among them. 
 
 These nations not only resemble each other 
 in their deformity, their dwarfishness, the 
 colour of their hair and eyes, but they have, 
 in a great measure, the same inclinations, and 
 the same manners, being all equally rude, 
 superstitious, and stupid. The Danish Lap- 
 landers have a large black cat, to which they 
 communicate their secrets, and consult in all 
 their affairs. Among the Swedish Laplanders 
 there is in every family a drum for consulting 
 the devil ; and although these nations are 
 robust and nimble, yet they are so cowardly 
 that they never can be brought into the field. 
 Gustavus Adolphus attempted to form a re- 
 giment of Laplanders, but he found it impos- 
 sible to accomplish his design; for it should 
 seem that they can live only in their own 
 country, and in their own manner. They 
 make use of skates, which are made of fir, of 
 near three feet long, and half a foot broad ; 
 these are pointed, and raised before, and tied 
 to the foot by straps of leather. With these 
 they skate on the icy snow, and with such 
 velocity, that they very easily overtake the 
 swiftest animals. They make use also of a 
 pole, pointed with iron at one end, and round- 
 ed at the other. This pole serves to push 
 them along, to direct their course, to support 
 them from falling, to stop the impetuosity of 
 their motion, and to kill that game which they 
 have overtaken. Upon these skates they de- 
 scend the steepest mountains, and scale the 
 most craggy precipices ; and, in these exer- 
 cises, the women are not less skilful than the 
 men. They have all the use of the bow and 
 arrow, which seems to be a contrivance com- 
 mon to all barbarous nations ; and which, 
 
 b Krantz. 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 179 
 
 however, at first, required no small skill to in- 
 vent. They launch a javelin, also, with great 
 force, and some say, that they can hit a mark, 
 no larger than a crown, at thirty yardsdistarice, 
 and with such force as would pierce a man 
 through. They are all hunters; and particu- 
 larly pursue the ermine, the fox, the ounce, 
 and the martin, for the sake of their skins. 
 These they barter, with their southern neigh- 
 bours, for brandy and tobacco ; both which 
 they are fond of to excess. Their food is prin- 
 cipally dried fish, the flesh of rein-deer and 
 bears. Their bread is composed of the bones 
 of fishes, pounded and mixed with the inside 
 tender bark of the pine-tree. Their drink is 
 train oil or brandy; and, when deprived of 
 these, water, in which juniper berries have 
 been infused. With regard to their morals, 
 they have all the virtues of simplicity, and all 
 the vices of ignorance. They offer their wives 
 and daughters to strangers; and seem to 
 think it a particular honour if their offer be 
 accepted. They have no idea of religion, or 
 a Supreme Being ; the greatest number of 
 them are idolaters ; and their superstition is 
 as profound as their worship is contemptible. 
 Wretched and ignorant as they are, yet they 
 do not want pride ; they set themselves far 
 above the rest of mankind ; and Krantz as- 
 sures us, that when the Greenlanders are got 
 together, nothing is so customary among them 
 as to turn the Europeans into ridicule. They 
 are obliged, indeed, to yield them the pre- 
 eminence in understanding and mechanic arts ; 
 but they do not know how to set any value 
 upon these. Th^y therefore count themselves 
 the only civilized and well-bred people in the 
 world ; and it is common with them, when 
 they see a quiet or a modest stranger, to say 
 that heisalmost as well bred asaGreenlander. 
 From this description, therefore, this whole 
 race of people may be considered as distinct 
 from any other. Their long continuance in a 
 climate the most inhospitable, their being ob- 
 liged to subsist on food the most coarse and 
 ill prepared, the savageness of their manners, 
 and their laborious lives, all have contributed 
 to shorten their stature, and to deform their 
 bodies. 3 In proportion as we approach to- 
 wards the north pole, the size of the natives 
 
 Ellis's Voyage, p. 256. 
 
 appears to diminish, growing less and less as 
 we advance higher, till we come to those lati- 
 tudes that are destitute of all inhabitants 
 whatsoever. 
 
 The wretched natives of these climates seem 
 fitted by nature to endure the rigours of their 
 situation. As their food is but scanty and 
 precarious, their patience in hunger is amaz- 
 ing." A man, who has eaten nothing for four 
 days, can manage his little canoe in the most 
 furious waves, and calmly-subsist in the midst 
 of a tempest, that would quickly dash an Eu- 
 ropean boat to pieces. Their strength is not 
 less amazing than their patience ; a woman 
 among them will carry a piece of timber, or 
 a stone, near double the weight of what an 
 European can lift. Their bodies are of a dark 
 gray all over ; and their faces brown, or olive. 
 The tincture of their skins partly seems to 
 arise from their dirty manner of living, being 
 generally daubed with train-oil; and partly 
 from the rigours of climate, as the sudden al- 
 terations of cold and raw air in winter, and 
 of burning heats in summer, shade their com- 
 plexions by degrees, till, in a succession of 
 generations, they at last become almost black. 
 As the countries in which they reside are the 
 most barren, so the natives seem the most bar- 
 barous of any part of the earth. Their more 
 southern neighbours of America, treat them 
 with the same scorn that a polished nation 
 would treat a savage one ; and we may rea- 
 dily judge of the rudeness of those manners, 
 which even a native of Canada can think 
 more barbarous than his own. 
 
 But the gradations of nature are impercep- 
 tible ; and, while the north is peopled with 
 such miserable inhabitants, there are here 
 and there to be found, upon the edges of these 
 regions, people of a larger stature, and com- 
 pleter figure. A whole race of the dwarfish 
 breed is often found to come down from the 
 north, and settle more to the southward ; and, 
 on the contrary, it sometimes happens that 
 southern nations are seen higher up, in the 
 midst of these diminutive tribes, where they 
 have continued for time immemorial. Thus 
 the Ostiac Tartars seem to be a race that 
 have travelled down from the north, and to 
 be originally sprung from the minute savages 
 
 b Krantz, p. 134. vol. i. 
 
 2K 
 
180 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 we have been describing. There are also 
 Norwegians andFinlanders, of proper stature, 
 who are seen to inhabit in latitudes higher 
 even than Lapland. These, however, are 
 but accidental migrations, and serve as shades 
 to unite the distinct varieties of mankind. 
 
 The second great variety in the human spe- 
 cies, seems to be that of the Tartar race ; 
 from whence, probably, the little men we have 
 been describing originally proceeded. The 
 Tartar country, taken ingeneral.comprehends 
 the greatest part of Asia ; and is, consequent- 
 ly, a general name given to a number of nati- 
 ons, of various forms and complexions. But, 
 however they seem to differ from each other, 
 they all agree in being very unlike the people 
 of any other country. All these nations have 
 the upper part of the visage very broad, and 
 wrinkledevenwhile yet in their youth. Their 
 noses are short and flat, their eyes little, and 
 sunk in their heads ; and, in some of them, 
 they are seen five or six inches asunder. 
 Their cheek-bones are high, the lower part 
 of their visage narrow, the chin long and ad- 
 vanced forward, their teeth of an enormous 
 size, and growing separate from each other; 
 their eyebrows thick, large, and covering 
 their eyes ; their eyelids thick, the face broad 
 and flat, the complexion olive coloured, and 
 the hair black. They are of a middle size, 
 extremely strong, and very robust. They 
 have but little beard, which grows straggling 
 on the chin. They have large thighs, and 
 short legs. The ugliest of all are the Cal- 
 mucks, in whose appearance there seems to 
 be something frightful. They all lead an er- 
 ratic life, remaining under tents of hair, or 
 skins. They live upon horse flesh, and that 
 of camels, either raw or a little sodden be- 
 tween the horse and the saddle. They eat 
 also fish dried in the sun. Their most usual 
 drink is ^.lares' milk, fermented with millet 
 ground into meal. They all have the head 
 shaven, except a lock of hair on the top, 
 which they let grow sufficiently long to form 
 into tresses, on each side of the face. The 
 women, who are as ugly as the men, wear 
 their hair, which they bind up with bits of 
 copper, and other ornaments of a like nature. 
 The majority of these nations have no religi- 
 on, no settled notions of morality, no decency 
 of behaviour. They are chiefly robbers; 
 
 and the natives of Dagestan, who live near 
 their more polished neighbours, make a traf- 
 fic of Tartar slaves who have been stolen, and 
 sell them to the Turks and the Persians.. 
 Their chief riches consist in horses, of which 
 perhaps there are more in Tartary than in 
 any other part of the world. The natives are 
 taught by custom to live in the same place 
 with their horses, they are continually em- 
 ployed in managing them, and at last bring 
 them to such great obedience, that the horse 
 seems actually to understand the riders inten- 
 tion. 
 
 To this race of men, also, we must refer 
 the Chinese and the Japanese, however dif- 
 ferent they seem in their manners and cere- 
 monies. It is the form of the body that we 
 are now principally considering ; and there is, 
 between these countries, a surprising resem- 
 blance. It is in general allowed, that the 
 Chinese have broad faces, small eyes, flat 
 noses, and scarce any beard ; that they are 
 broad and square shouldered, and rather less 
 in stature than Europeans. These are marks 
 common to them and the Tartars, and they 
 may, therefore, be considered as being deriv- 
 ed from the same original. " I have observ- 
 ed," says Chardin, " that in all the people 
 from the east and the north of the Caspian 
 sea, to the peninsula of Malacca, that the lines 
 of the face, and the formation of the visage, 
 is the same. This has induced me to believe, 
 that all these nations are derived from the 
 same original, however different either their 
 complexions or their manners may appear : 
 for as to the complexion, that proceeds entire- 
 ly from the climate and the food ; and as to 
 the manners, these are generally the result of 
 their different degrees of wealth or power." 
 That they come from one stock, is evident 
 also from this, that the Tartars who settle in 
 China, quickly resemble the Chinese ; and, 
 on the contrary, the Chinese who settle in 
 Tartary, soon assume the figure and the man- 
 ners of the Tartars. 
 
 The Japanese so much resemble the Chi- 
 nese, that one cannot hesitate to rank them 
 in the same class. They only differ in being 
 rather browner, as they inhabit a more south- 
 ern climate. They are, in general, described 
 as of a brown complexion, a short stature, a 
 broad flat face, a very little beard, and black 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 181 
 
 hair. Their customs and ceremonies are 
 nearly the same ; their ideas of beauty simi- 
 lar; and their artificial deformities of black- 
 ening the teeth, and bandaging the feet, en- 
 tirely alike in both countries. They both, 
 therefore, proceed from the same stock ; and 
 although they differ very much from their bru- 
 tal progenitors, yet they owe their civiliza- 
 tion wholly to the mildness of the climate in 
 which they reside, and to the peculiar fertili- 
 ty of the soil. To this tribe, also, we may re- 
 fer the Cochin Chinese, the Siamese, the Ton- 
 quinese, and the inhabitants of Arracan, Laos, 
 and Pegu, who, though all differing from the 
 Chinese and each other, nevertheless have 
 too strong a resemblance not to betray their 
 common original. 
 
 Another, which makes the third variety in 
 the human species, is, that of the southern 
 Asiatics ; the form of whose features and per- 
 sons may be easily distinguished from those 
 of the Tartar races. The nations that inha- 
 bit the peninsula of India, seem to be the prin- 
 cipal stock from whence the inhabitants of the 
 islands that lie scattered in the Indian ocean 
 have been peopled. They are, in general, of 
 a slender shape, with long straight black hair, 
 and often with Roman noses. Thus they re- 
 semble the Europeans i.-i stature and features; 
 but greatly differ in colour and habit of body. 
 The Indians are of an olive colour, and, in | 
 the more southern parts, quite black ; al- 
 though the word Mogul, in their language, sig- 
 nifies a white man. The women are extreme- 
 ly delicate, and bathe very often; they are 
 of an olive colour, as well as the men: their 
 legs and thighs are long, and their bodies 
 short, which is the opposite to what is seen 
 among the women of Europe. They are, as 
 I am assured, by no means so fruitful as the 
 European women ; but they feel the pains of 
 child-birth with much less sensibility, and are 
 generally up and well the day following. In 
 fact, these pains seem greatest in all coun- 
 tries where the women are most delicate, or 
 the constitution enfeebled by luxury or indo- 
 lence. The women of savage nations seem, 
 in a great measure, exempt from painful la- 
 bours; and even the hard-working wives of 
 the peasants among ourselves, have this ad- 
 vantage from a life of industry, that their child- 
 bearing is less painful. Over all India, the 
 
 children arrive sooner at maturity, than with 
 us of Europe. They often marry and consum- 
 mate, the husband at ten years old, and the 
 wife at eight ; and they frequently have chil- 
 dren at that age. However, the women who 
 arc mothers so soon, cease bearing before they 
 are arrived at thirty ; and at that time they 
 appear wrinkled, and seem marked with all 
 the deformities of age. The Indians have 
 long been remarkable for their cowardice and 
 effeminacy ; every conqueror, that has at- 
 tempted the invasion of their country, having 
 succeeded. The warmth of the climate en- 
 tirely influences their manners ; they are 
 slothful, submissive, and luxurious; satisfied 
 with sensual happiness alone, they find no 
 pleasure in thinking ; and contented with sla- 
 very, they are ready to obey any master. 
 Many tribes among them eat nothing that has 
 life ; they are fearful of killing the meanest in- 
 sect ; and have even erected hospitals for the 
 maintenance of all kinds of vermin. The 
 Asiatic dress is a loose flowing garment, ra- 
 ther fitted for the purposes of peace and in- 
 dolence, than of industry or war. The vi- 
 gour of the Asiatics is, in general, conformable 
 to their dress and nourishment; fed upon rice, 
 and clothed in effeminate silk vestments, their 
 soldiers are unable to oppose the onset of an 
 European army ; and from the times of Alex- 
 ander to the present day, we have scarcely 
 any instances of their success in arms. Upon 
 the whole, therefore, they may be considered 
 as a feeble race of sensualists, too dull to find 
 rapture in any pleasures, and too indolent to 
 turn their gravity into wisdom. To this class 
 we may refer the Persians, and Arabians, and, 
 in general, the inhabitants of the islands that 
 lie scattered in the Indian ocean. 
 
 The fourth striking variety in the human 
 species, is to be found among the negroes of 
 Africa. This gloomy race of mankind is found 
 to blacken all the southern parts of Africa, 
 from eighteen degrees north of the line, to its 
 extreme termination at the Cape of Good 
 Hope. I know it is said, that the Caff'res, 
 who inhabit the southern extremity of that 
 large continent, are not to be ranked among 
 the negro race : however, the difference be- 
 tween them, in point of colour and features, 
 is so small, that they may very easily be group- 
 ed in this general picture; and in the one or 
 2K* 
 
182 
 
 A HISTORY OP 
 
 two that I have seen, I could not perceive the 
 smallest difference. Each of the negro nati- 
 ons, it must be owned, differ from each other; 
 they have their peculiar countries for beauty, 
 like us ; and different nations, as in Europe, 
 pride themselves upon the regularity of their 
 features. Those of Guinea, for instance, are 
 extremely ugly, and have an insupportable 
 scent ; those of Mosambique are reckoned 
 beautiful, and have no ill smell whatsoever. 
 The negroes, in general, are of a black colour, 
 with a smooth soft skin. This smoothness 
 proceeds from the downy softness of the hair 
 which grows upon it; the strength of which 
 gives aroughnessto the feel, in those of a white 
 complexion. Their skins, therefore, have a 
 velvet smoothness, and seem less braced up- 
 on the muscles than ours. The hair of their 
 h; ads differs entirely from what we are ac- 
 customed to, being soft, woolly, and short. The 
 beard also, partakes of the same qualities ; 
 but in this it differs, that it soon turns gray, 
 which the hair is seldom found to do ; so that 
 several are seen with white beards, and black 
 hair, at the same time. Their eyes are gene- 
 rally of a deep hazel ; their noses flat and 
 short; their lips thick and tumid; and their 
 teeth of an ivory whiteness. This, their only 
 beauty, however, is set off by the colour of 
 their skin ; the contrast between the black 
 and white being the more observable. It is 
 false to say that their features are deformed 
 by art ; since, in the negro children born in 
 European countries, the same deformities are 
 seen to prevail ; the same flatness in the nose; 
 and the same prominence in the lips. They 
 are, in general, said to be well shaped ; but 
 of such as I have seen, I never found one that 
 might be justly called so; their legs being 
 mostly ill formed, and commonly bending out- 
 ward on the shin-bone. But it is not only in 
 those parts of their bodies that are obvious, 
 that they are disproportioned ; those parts 
 which among us are usually concealed by 
 dress, with them are large an*languid. a The 
 women's breasts, after bearing one child, hang 
 down below the navel ; and it is customary 
 with them to suckle the child at their backs, 
 by throwing the breasts over the shoulder. 
 
 a LiniHEiis, in prinia lines sna, faeminas Af'ricanas de- 
 pingit sicut aliquid defomie in parte genital! gestaiites, 
 quod sinum pudoris nuncupat. Attamen nihil differunt a 
 
 As their persons are thus naturally deformed, 
 at least to our imaginations, their minds are 
 equally incapable of strong exertions. The 
 climate seems to relax their mental powers 
 still more than those of the body ; they are, 
 therefore, in general, found to be stupid, in- 
 dolent, and mischievous. The Arabians them- 
 selves, many colonies of whom have migrated 
 southward into the most inland parts of Africa, 
 seem to have degenerated from their ances- 
 tors ; forgetting their ancient learning, and 
 losing their beauty, they have become a race 
 scarcely any way distinguishable from the 
 original natives. Nor does it seem to have 
 fared otherwise with the Portuguese, who 
 about two centuries ago, settled along this 
 coast. They also are become almost as black 
 as the negroes, and are said by some to be 
 even more barbarous. 
 
 The inhabitants of America make a fifth 
 race, as different from all the rest in colour, 
 as they are distinct in habitation. The natives 
 of America (except in the northern extremity, 
 where they resemble the Laplanders) are of 
 a red or copper colour; and although, in the 
 old world, different climates produce a variety 
 of complexions and customs, the natives of 
 the new continent seem to resemble each other 
 in almost every respect. They are all nearly 
 of one colour; all have black thick straight 
 hair, and thin black beards ; which, however, 
 they take care to pluck out by the roots. 
 They have, in general, flat noses, with high 
 cheek-bones, and small eyes ; and these de- 
 formities of nature they endeavour to increase 
 by art : they flatten the nose, and often the 
 whole head of their children, while the bones 
 are yet susceptible of every impression. They 
 paint the body and face of various colours, 
 and consider the hair upon any part of it, ex- 
 cept the head, as a deformity which they are 
 careful to eradicate. Their limbs are gene- 
 rally slighter made than those of the Euro- 
 peans ; and, I am assured, they are far from 
 being so strong. All these savages seem to 
 be cowardly; they seldom are known to face 
 their enemies in the field, but fall upon them 
 at an advantage ; and the greatness of their 
 fears serves to increase the rigours of their 
 
 nostratibus in hac parte nisi quod labia pudendae sint ali- 
 qriantulum tuniidiora. In hominibus etiam penis est lon- 
 gior et multo laxior. 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 183 
 
 Cruelty. The wants which they often sustain, 
 make them surprisingly patient in adversity : 
 distress, by being grown familiar, becomes 
 less terrible ; so that their patience is less the 
 result of fortitude than of custom. They have 
 all a serious air, although they seldom think; 
 and, however cruel to their enemies, are kind 
 and just to each other. In short, the customs 
 of savage nations in every country are almost 
 the same; a wild, independent, and preca- 
 rious life, produces a peculiar train of virtues 
 and vices : and patience and hospitality, in- 
 dolence and rapacity, content and sincerity, 
 are found not less among the natives of 
 America, than all the barbarous nations of the 
 globe. 
 
 The sixth and last variety of the human 
 species, is that of the Europeans, and the 
 nations bordering on them. In this class we 
 may reckon the Georgians, Circassians, and 
 Mingrelians, the inhabitants of Asia Minor, 
 and the northern parts of Africa, together 
 with a part of those countries which lie north- 
 west of the Caspian sea. The inhabitants of 
 these countries differ a good deal from each 
 other; but they generally agree in the colour 
 of their bodies, the beauty of their complex- 
 ions, the largeness of their limbs, and the 
 vigour of their understandings. Those arts 
 which might have had their invention among 
 the other races of mankind, have come to 
 perfection there. In barbarous countries the 
 inhabitants go either naked, or are awkwardly 
 clothed in furs or feathers; in countries semi- 
 barbarous, the robes are loose and flowing; 
 but here the clothing is less made for show 
 than expedition, and unites, as much as pos- 
 sible, the extremes of ornament and despatch. 
 
 To one or other of these classes we may 
 refer the people of every country: and as each 
 nation has been less visited by strangers, or 
 has had less commerce with the rest of man- 
 kind, we find their persons and their manners 
 more strongly impressed with one or other of 
 the characters mentioned above. On the 
 contrary, in those places where trade has 
 long flourished, or where enemies have made 
 many incursions, the races are usually found 
 blended, and properly fall beneath no one 
 character. Thus, in the islands of the Indian 
 ocean, where a trade has been carried on for 
 time immemorial, the inhabitants appear to 
 
 be a mixture of all the nations upon the earth; 
 white, olive, brown, and black men, are all 
 seen living together in the same city, and pro- 
 pagate a mixed breed, that can be referred to 
 none of the classes into which naturalists have 
 thought proper to divide mankind. 
 
 Of all the colours by which mankind is 
 diversified, it is easy to perceive, that ours is 
 not only most beautiful to the eye, but the 
 most advantageous. The fair complexion 
 seems, if I may so express it, as a transparent 
 covering to the soul ; all the variations of the 
 passions, every expression of joy or sorrow, 
 flows to the cheek, and, without language, 
 marks the mind. In the slightest change of 
 health also the colour of the European face is 
 the most exact index, and often teaches us to 
 prevent those disorders that we do not as yet 
 perceive : not but that the African black, and 
 the Asiatic olive complexions, admit of their 
 alterations also ; but these are neither so 
 distinct, nor so visible, as with us; and in 
 some countries the colour of the visage is 
 never found to change; but the face continues 
 in the same settled shade in shame and in sick- 
 ness, in anger and despair. 
 
 The colour, therefore, most natural toman, 
 ought to be that which is most becoming; and 
 it is found, that, in all regions, the children 
 are born fair, or at least red, and that they 
 grow more black, or tawny, as they advance 
 in age. It should seem, consequently, that 
 man is naturally white; since the same causes 
 that darken the complexion in infants, may 
 have originally operated, in slower degrees, 
 in blackening whole nations. We could, 
 therefore, readily account for the blackness 
 of different nations, did we not seethe Ameri- 
 cans, who live under the line, as well as the 
 natives of Negroland, of a red colour, and but 
 a very small shade darker than the natives of 
 the northern latitudes, in the same continent. 
 For this reason, some have sought for other 
 causes of blackness than the climate ; and 
 have endeavoured to prove that the blacks 
 are a race of people bred from one man, who 
 was marked with accidental blackness. This, 
 however, is but mere ungrounded conjecture : 
 and, although the Americans are not so dark 
 as the negroes, yet we must still continue in 
 the ancient opinion, that the deepness of the 
 colour proceeds from the excessive heat of 
 
184 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 the climate. For, if we compare the heats of 
 Africa with those of America, we shall find 
 they bear no proportion to each other. In 
 America, all that part of the continent, which 
 lies under the line, is cool and pleasant, either 
 shaded by mountains, or refreshed by breezes 
 from the sea. But in Africa, the wide tract 
 of country that lies under the line is very ex- 
 tensive, and the soil sandy ; the reflection of 
 the sun, therefore, from so large a surface of 
 earth, is almost intolerable ; and it is not to 
 be wondered at, that the inhabitants should 
 bear, in their looks, the marks of the inhos- 
 pitable climate. In America, the country is 
 out thinly inhabited; and the more torrid tracts 
 are generally left desert by the inhabitants; for 
 which reason they are not so deeply tinged 
 by the beams of the sun. But in Africa the 
 whole face of the country is fully peopled ; 
 and the natives are obliged to endure their 
 situation, without a power of migration. It is 
 there, consequently, that they are in a man- 
 ner tied down to feel all the severity of the 
 heat ; and their complexions take the darkest 
 hue they are capable of receiving. We need 
 not, therefore, have recourse to any imagina- 
 ry propagation, from persons accidentally 
 black, since the climate is a cause obvious and 
 sufficient to produce the effect. 
 
 In fact, if we examine the complexion of dif- 
 ferent countries, we shall find them darken in 
 proportion to the heat of their climate ; and 
 the shades gradually to deepen as they ap- 
 proach the line. Some nations, indeed, may 
 be found not so much tinged by the sun as 
 others, although they lie nearer the line. 
 But this ever proceeds from some accidental 
 causes ; either from the country lying higher, 
 and consequently being colder ; or from the 
 natives bathing oftener, and leading a more 
 civilized life. In general, it may be asserted, 
 that as we approach the line, we find the in- 
 habitants of each country grow browner, un- 
 til the colour deepens into perfect blackness. 
 Thus, taking our standard from the whitest 
 race of people, and beginning with our own 
 country, which, I believe, bids fairest for the 
 pre-eminence, we shall find the French, who 
 are more southern, a slight shade deeper than 
 we; going farther down, the Spaniards are 
 browner than the French; the inhabitants of 
 Fez darker than they ; and the natives of Ne- 
 
 groland the darkest of all In what manner 
 the sun produces this effect, and how thesame 
 luminary which whitens wax and linen, should 
 darken the human complexion, is not easy to 
 conceive. Sir Thomas Brown first supposed, 
 that a mucous substance, which had some- 
 thing of a vitriolic quality, settled under the 
 reticular membrane, and grew darker with 
 heat. Others have supposed that the black- 
 ness lay in the epidermis, or scarf-skin, which 
 was burnt up like leather. But nothing has 
 been satisfactorily discovered upon the sub- 
 ject ; it is sufficient that we are assured of the 
 fact ; and that we have no doubt of the sun's 
 tinging the complexion in proportion to its 
 vicinity. 
 
 But we are not to suppose that the sun is 
 the only cause of darkening the skin ; the 
 wind, extreme cold, hard labour, or coarse 
 and sparing nourishment, are all found to con- 
 tribute to this effect. We find the peasants 
 of every country, who are most exposed to the 
 weather, a shade darker than the higher ranks 
 of people. The savage inhabitants of all pla- 
 ces are exposed still more, and therefore con- 
 tract a still deeper hue ; and this will account 
 for the tawny colour of the North American 
 Indians. Although they live in a climate the 
 same, or even more northerly than ours, yet 
 they are found to be of complexions very dif- 
 ferent from those of Europe. But it must be 
 considered, that they live continually exposed 
 to the sun ; that they use many methods to 
 darken their skins by art, painting them with 
 red ochre, and anointing them with the fat of 
 bears. Had they taken, for a succession of 
 several generations, the same precautions to 
 brighten their colour that an European does, 
 it is very probable that they would in time 
 come to have similar complexions, and, per- 
 haps, dispute the prize of beauty. 
 
 The extremity of coll is not less produc- 
 tive of a tawny complexion than that of heat. 
 The natives of the arctic circle, as was ob- 
 served, are all brown ; and those that lie 
 most to the north are almost entirely black. 
 In this manner both extremes are unfavoura- 
 ble to the human tbrm and colour, and the 
 same effects are produced under the poles 
 that are found at the line. 
 
 With regard to the slature of different 
 countries, that seems chielly to result from the 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 183 
 
 nature of the food, and the quantity of the 
 supply. Not but that the severity of heat or 
 cold, may, in some measure, diminish the 
 growth, and produce adwarfishness of make. 
 But, in general, the food is the great agent in 
 producing this effect ; where that is supplied 
 in large quantities, and where its quality is 
 wholesome and nutrimental, the inhabitants 
 are generally seen above the ordinary stature. 
 On the contrary, where it is afforded in a 
 sparing quantity, or very coarse, and void of 
 nourishment in its kind, the inhabitants de- 
 generate, and sink below the ordinary size of 
 mankind. In this respect they resemble other 
 animals, whose bodies, by proper feeding, 
 may be greatly augmented. An ox, on the 
 fertile plains of India, grows to a size four 
 times as large as the diminutive animal of the 
 same kind bred in the Alps. The horses bred 
 in the plains are larger than those of the 
 mountain. So it is with man ; the inhabitants 
 of the valley are usually found taller than 
 those of the hill; the natives of the Highlands 
 of Scotland, for instance, are short, broad, and 
 hardy ; those of the Lowlands are tall and 
 shapely. The inhabitants of Greenland, who 
 live upon dried fish and seals, are less than 
 those of Gambia, or Senegal, where Nature 
 supplies them with vegetable and animal 
 abundance. 
 
 The form of the face seems rather to be 
 the result of custom. Nations who have long 
 considered some artificial deformity as beau- 
 tiful, who have industriously lessened the feet, 
 or flattened the nose, by degrees begin to re- 
 ceive the impression they are taught to as- 
 sume ; and Nature, in a course of ages, shapes 
 itself to the constraint, and assumes heredita- 
 ry deformity. We find nothing more com- 
 mon in births, than for children to inherit 
 sometimes even the accidental deformities of 
 their parents. We have many instances of 
 squinting in thefather,which he received from 
 fright or habit, communicated to the offspring; 
 and I myself have seen a child distinctly mark- 
 ed with a scar, similar to one the father had 
 received in battle. In this manner, acciden- 
 tal deformities may become natural ones ; and 
 by assiduity may be continued, and even in- 
 creased, through successivegenerations. From 
 this, therefore, may have arisen the small eyes 
 and long ears of the Tartar and Chinese na- 
 
 tions. From hence originally may have come 
 the flat noses of the blacks, and the flat heads 
 of the American Indians. 
 
 In this slight survey, therefore, I think we 
 may see that all the variations in the human 
 figure, as far as they differ from our own, are 
 produced either by the rigour ol the climate, 
 the bad quality or the scantiness of the pro- 
 visions, or by the savage customs of the coun- 
 try. They are actual marks of the degenera- 
 cy in the human form ; and we may consider 
 the European figure and colour as standards 
 to which to refer all other varieties, and with 
 which to compare them. In proportion as the 
 Tartar or American approaches nearer to Eu- 
 ropean beauty, we consider the race as less 
 degenerated ; in proportion as he differs more 
 widely, he has made greater deviations from 
 his original form. 
 
 That we have all sprung from one common 
 j parent we are taught, both by reason and re- 
 ! ligion, to believe ; and we have good reason 
 also to think that the Europeans resemble him 
 more than any of the rest of his children. 
 However, it must not be concealed that the 
 olive-coloured Asiatic, and even the jet-black 
 negro, claim this honour of hereditary resem- 
 blance ; and assert, that white men are mere 
 deviations from original perfection. Odd as 
 this opinion may seem, they have Linnaeus, 
 the celebrated naturalist, on their side ; who 
 supposes man a native of the tropicnl climates, 
 and only a sojourner more to the north. But, 
 not to enter into a controversy upon a matter 
 of a very remote speculation, I think one ar- 
 gument alone will suffice to prove the contra- 
 ry, and show that the white man is the origi- 
 nal source from whence the other varieties 
 have sprung. We have frequently seen white 
 children produced from black parents, but 
 have never seen a black offspring the produc- 
 tion of two whites. From hence we may con- 
 clude, that whiteness is the colour to which 
 mankind naturally tends : for, as in the tulip, 
 the parent stock is known by all the artificial 
 varieties breaking into it ; so in man, that co- 
 lour must be original which never alters, and 
 to which all the rest are accidentally seen to 
 change. I have seen in London, at different 
 times, two white negroes, the issue of black 
 parents, that served to convince me of the 
 truth of this theory. I had before been taught 
 
180 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 to believe that the whiteness of the negro's skin 
 was a disease, a kind of milky whiteness, that 
 might be called rather a leprous crust than a 
 natural complexion. I was taught to suppose, 
 that the numberless white negroes found in 
 various parts of Africa, the white men that go 
 by the name of Chacrelas, hi the East Indies, 
 and the white Americans, near the Isthmus of 
 Darien, in the West Indies, were all as so many 
 diseased persons, and even more deformed than 
 the blackest of the natives. But, upon exa- 
 mining that negro which was last shown in 
 London, 1 found the colour to be exactly like 
 that of an European; the visage white and 
 ruddy, and the lips of the proper redness. How- 
 ever, there were sufficient marks to convince 
 me of its descent. The hair was white and 
 
 woolly, and very unlike any thing I had seen 
 before. The iris of the eye was yellow, inclin- 
 ing to red ; the nose was flat, exactly resem- 
 bling that of a negro ; and the lips thick and 
 prominent. No doubt, therefore, remained of 
 the child's having been born of negro parents : 
 and the person who showed it had attestations 
 to convince the most incredulous. From this, 
 then, we see that the variations of the negro 
 colour is into whiteness, whereas the white are 
 never found to have a race of negro children. 
 Upon the whole, therefore, all those changes 
 which the African, the Asiatic,orthe American, 
 undergo, are but accidental deformities, which 
 a kinder climate, better nourishment, or more 
 civilized manners, would, in a course of cen- 
 turies, very probably remove. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 OF MONSTERS. 
 
 HITHERTO I have only spoken of those 
 \ r arieties in the human species, that are com- 
 mon to whole nations ; but there are varieties 
 of another kind, which are only found in the 
 individual ; and being more rarely seen, are 
 therefore called monstrous. If we examine 
 into the varieties of distorted nature, there is 
 scarcely a limb of the body, or a feature in the 
 face, that has not suffered some reprobation, 
 either from art or nature ; being enlarged or 
 diminished, lengthened or wrested, from its 
 due proportion. Linnaeus, after having given 
 a catalogue of monsters, particularly adds, the 
 flat heads of Canada, the long heads of the 
 Chinese, and the slender waists of the women 
 of Europe, who, by strait lacing, take such 
 pains to destroy their health, through a mis- 
 taken desire to improve their beauty. 3 It be- 
 
 a Linnaei Syst. vol. i. p. 29. Monorchides ut minus 
 fertiles. 
 
 b Vide Phil. Trans, passim. Miscellan. Curioss. Johan. 
 Baptist. Wenck. Dissertatio Physica an ex virilis human! 
 seminis cum brutali per nefarium coitum commixtione, 
 aut vicissim ex bruti maris cum muliebri humano seminis 
 commixtione possit verus homo generari. Vide etiam, 
 Johnstoni Thaumatographia Naturalis. Vide Adalbert! 
 Disquisitio Physica ostenti duoruiu puerorum unus quo- 
 
 longs more to the physician than the naturalist 
 to attend to these minute deformities ; and in- 
 deed it is a melancholy contemplation to specu- 
 late upon a catalogue of calamities, inflicted 
 by unpitying Nature, or brought upon us by 
 our own caprice. Some, however, are fond 
 of such accounts ; and there have been books 
 filled with nothing else. To these, therefore, I 
 refer the reader ; who may be better pleased 
 with accounts of men with two heads, or with- 
 out any head, of children joined in the middle, 
 of bones turned into flesh, or flesh converted 
 into bones, than I am. b It is sufficient here to 
 observe, that every day's experience must 
 have shown us miserable instances of this 
 kind produced by nature or affectation; cala- 
 milities that no pity can soften, or assiduity 
 relieve. 
 
 rum dente aureo, alter cum capite giganteo Bilupe specta- 
 bantur. A man without lungs and stomach, Journal de 
 Scavans, 1682, p. 301 ; another without any brain, An- 
 dreas Carol! Memorabilia, p. 167, an. 167^; another 
 without any head, Giornale di Roma, anno 1(>75, p. 26; 
 another without any arms, New Memoirs of Literature, 
 vol. iv. p. 446. In short, the variety of these accounts is 
 almost infinite ; and, perhaps, their use is as much cir- 
 cumscribed as their variety is extensive 
 
ANIMALS 
 
 187 
 
 Passing over, therefore, every other ac- 
 count, I shall only mention the famous instance 
 quoted by Father Malbranche, upon which- 
 he founds his beautiful theory of monstrous 
 productions. A woman of Paris, the wife of 
 n tradesman, went to see a criminal broke 
 alive upon the wheel, at the place of public 
 execution. She was at that time two months 
 advanced in her pregnancy, and no way sub- 
 ject to any disorders to affect the child in her 
 womb. She was, however, of a tender habit 
 of body ; and, though led by curiosity to this 
 horrid spectacle, very easily moved to pity 
 and compassion. She felt, therefore, all those 
 strong emotions which so terrible a sight must 
 naturally inspire ; shuddered at every blow 
 the criminal received, and almost swooned at 
 his cries. Upon returning from this scene of 
 blood, she continued for some days pensive, 
 and her imagination still wrought upon the 
 spectacle she had lately seen. After some 
 timc,however,sheseemed perfectly recovered 
 from her fright, and had almost forgotten her 
 former uneasiness. When the time of her de- 
 livery approached, she seemed no ways mind- 
 ful of her former terrors, nor were her pains 
 in labour more than usual in such circumstan- 
 But what was the amazement of her 
 
 ces. 
 
 friends and assistants when the child came 
 into the world ! It was found that every limb 
 in its body was broken like those of the male- 
 factor, and just in the same place. This poor 
 infant, that had suffered the pains of life even 
 before its coming into the world, did not die, 
 but lived in an hospital in Paris, for twenty 
 years after, a wretched instance of the sup- 
 posed powers of imagination in the mother, of 
 altering and distorting the infant in the womb. 
 The manner in which Malbranche reasons 
 upon this fact, is as follows: the Creator has 
 established such a sympathy between the se- 
 veral parts of nature, that we are led not only 
 to imitate each other, but also to partake in 
 the same affections and desires. The animal 
 spirits are thus carried to the respective parts 
 of the body, to perform the same actions 
 which we see others perform, to receive in 
 tome measure their wounds, and take part in 
 their sufferings. Experience tells us, that if 
 wo look attentively on any person severely 
 beaten, or sorely wounded, the spirits imme- 
 diately flow into those parts of the body which 
 NO. 17 & 18. 
 
 correspond to those we see in pain. The 
 more delicate the constitution, the more it is 
 thus affected ; the spirits making a stronger 
 impression on the fibres of a weakly habit 
 than of a robust one. Strong vigorous men 
 see an execution without much concern, while 
 women of nicer texture are struck with hor- 
 ror and concern. This sensibility in them 
 must, of consequence, be communicated to all 
 parts of their body; and as the fibres of the 
 child in the womb are incomparably finer 
 than those of the mother, the course of the 
 animal spirits must consequently produce 
 greater alterations. Hence, every stroke giv- 
 en to the criminal forcibly struck the imagi- 
 nation of the woman ; and, by a kind of coun- 
 ter-stroke, the delicate tender frame of the 
 child. 
 
 Such is the reasoning of an ingenious man 
 upon a fact, the veracity of which many have 
 since called in question.' They have allow- 
 ed, indeed, that such a child might have been 
 produced, but have denied the cause of its 
 deformity. " How could the imagination of 
 the mother," say they, " produce such dread- 
 ful effects upon her child ? She has no com- 
 munication with the infant ; she scarcely 
 touches it in any part ; quite unaffected with 
 her concerns, it sleeps in security, in a man- 
 ner secluded by a fluid in which it swims, 
 from her that bears it. With what a variety 
 of deformities," say they, "would all man- 
 kind be marked, if all the vain and caprici- 
 ous desires of the mother were thus readily 
 written upon the body of the child !" Yet, 
 notwithstanding this plausible way of reason- 
 ing, I cannot avoid giving some credit to the 
 variety of instances I have either read or seen 
 upon this subject. If it be a prejudice, it is 
 as old as the days of Aristotle, and to this day 
 as strongly believed by the generality of man- 
 kind as ever. It does not admit of a reason; 
 and, indeed, I can give none, even why the 
 child should, in any respect, resemble the fa- 
 ther or the mother. The fact we generally 
 find to be so. But why it should take the par- 
 ticular print of the father's features in the 
 womb is as hard to conceive, as why it should 
 be effected by the mother's imagination. We 
 all know what a strong effect the imagination 
 
 Billion, vol iv. p. 9. 
 
 2L 
 
188 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 has on those parts in particular, without being 
 able to assign a cause how this effect is pro- 
 duced ; and why the imagination may not 
 produce the same effect in marking the child 
 that it does in forming it, I see no reason. 
 Those persons whose employment it is to rear 
 up pigeons of different colours can breed 
 them, as their expression is, to a feather. In 
 fact, by properly pairing them, they can give 
 what colour they will to any feather, in any 
 part of the body. Were we to reason upon 
 this fact, what could we say ? Might it not 
 be asserted, that the egg, being distinct from 
 the body of the female, cannot be influenced 
 by it ? Might it not be plausibly said, that 
 there is no similitude between any part of the 
 egg and any particular feather which we ex- 
 pect to propagate ; and yet, for all this, the 
 tact is known to be true, and what no specu- 
 lation can invalidate. In the same manner, 
 a thousand various instances assure us, that 
 the child in the womb is sometimes marked 
 by the strong affections of the mother : how 
 this is performed we know not ; we only see 
 the effect, without any connection between it 
 and the cause. The best physicians have al- 
 lowed it; and have been satisfied to submit 
 to the experience of a number of ages ; but 
 many disbelieve it, because they expect a 
 reason for every effect. This, however, is 
 very hard to be given, while it is very easy to 
 appear wise by pretending incredulity. 
 
 Among the number of monsters, dwarfs and 
 giants are usually reckoned ; though not, per- 
 haps, with the strictest propriety, since they 
 are no way different from the rest of mankind, 
 except in stature. It is a dispute, however, 
 about words; and, therefore, scarcely worth 
 contending about. But there is a dispute, of 
 a more curious nature, on this subject ; name- 
 ly, whether there are races of people thus 
 very diminutive, or vastly large; or whether 
 they be merely accidental varieties, that now 
 and then are seen in a country, in a few per- 
 sons, whose bodies some external cause has 
 contributed to lessen or enlarge. 
 
 With regard to men of diminutive stature, 
 all antiquity has been unanimous in asserting 
 their national existence. Homer was the first 
 who has given us an account of the pigmy na- 
 tion contending with the cranes; and what 
 poetical license might be supposed to exag- 
 
 gerate, Athenseus has attempted seriously to 
 confirm by historical assertion." If we attend 
 to these, we must believe that, in the internal 
 parts of Africa, there are whole nations of pig- 
 my beings, not more than a foot in stature, 
 who continually wage an unequal war with the 
 birds and beasts that inhabit the plains in 
 which they reside. Some of the ancients, 
 however, and Strabo in particular, have sup- 
 posed all these accounts to be fabulous ; and 
 have been more inclined to think this suppos- 
 ed nation of pigmies nothing more than a spe- 
 cies of apes, well known to be numerous in 
 that part of the world. With this opinion the 
 moderns have all concurred ; and that dimi- 
 nutive race, which was described as human, 
 has been long degraded into a class of ani- 
 mals that resemble us but very imperfectly. 
 
 The existence, therefore, of a pigmy race 
 of mankind being founded in error, or in fable, 
 we can expect to find men of diminutive sta- 
 ture only by accident, among men of the or- 
 dinary size. Of these accidental dwarfs, 
 every country, and almost every village, can 
 produce numerous instances. There was a 
 time when these unfavoured children of Na- 
 ture were the peculiar favourites of the great ; 
 and no prince or nobleman thought himself 
 completely attended unless he had a dwarf 
 among the number of his domestics. These 
 poor little men were kept to be laughed at ; 
 or to raise the barbarous pleasure of their 
 masters, by their contrasted inferiority. Even 
 in England, as late as the times of King James 
 I. the court was at one time furnished with a 
 dwarf, a giant, and a jester ; these the king 
 often took a pleasure in opposing to each 
 other, and often fomented quarrels among 
 them, in order to be a concealed spectator of 
 their animosity. It was a particular entertain- 
 ment of the courtiers at that time to see little 
 Jeffrey, for so the dwarf was called, ride round 
 the lists, expecting his antagonist; and dis- 
 covering, in his actions, all the marks of con- 
 temptible resolution. 
 
 It was in the same spirit, that Peter of Rus- 
 sia, in the year 1710, celebrated a marriage 
 of dwarfs. This monarch, though raised by 
 his native genius far above a barbarian, was, 
 nevertheless, still many degrees removed from 
 
 Athenaeus, ix. 390. 
 
\NIMALS. 
 
 189 
 
 actual refinement. His pleasures, therefore, 
 were of the vulgar kind ; and this was among 
 the number. Upon a certain day, which he 
 had ordered to be proclaimed several months 
 before, he invited the whole body of his cour- 
 tiers, and all the foreign ambassadors, to be 
 present at the marriage of a pigmy man and 
 woman. The preparations for this wedding 
 were not only very grand, but executed in a 
 style of barbarous ridicule. He ordered that 
 all the dwarf men and women, within two 
 hundred miles, should repair to the capital ; 
 and also insisted that they should be present 
 at the ceremony. For this purpose he sup- 
 plied them with proper vehicles ; but so con- 
 trived it, that one horse was seen carrying in 
 a dozen of them into the city at once, while 
 the mob followed, shouting and laughing, 
 from behind. Some of them were at first un- 
 willing to obey an order which they knew was 
 calculated to turn them into ridicule, and did 
 not come : but he soon obliged them to obey ; 
 and, as a punishment, enjoined, that they 
 should wait upon the rest at dinner. The 
 whole company of dwarfs amounted to seven- 
 ty, besides the bride and bridegroom, who 
 were richly adorned, and in the extremity of 
 the fashion. For this little company in mini- 
 ature, every thing was suitably provided ; a 
 low table, small plates, little glasses, and, in 
 short, every thing was so fitted as if all things 
 had been dwindled to their own standard. 
 It was his great pleasure to see their gravity 
 and their pride ; the contention of the women 
 for places, and the men for superiority. This 
 point he attempted to adjust, by ordering that 
 the most diminutive should take the lead ; but 
 this bred disputes, for none would then con- 
 sent to sit foremost. All this, however, being 
 at last settled, dancing followed the dinner, 
 and the ball was opened with a minuet by the 
 bridegroom, who measured exactly three feet 
 two inches high. In the end, matters were 
 so contrived, that this little company, who met 
 together in gloomy pride, and unwilling to be 
 pleased, being at last familiarized to laughter, 
 joined in the diversion, and became, as the 
 journalist has it,' extremely sprightly and en- 
 tertaining. 
 
 Die dench wurdige. Iwerg. Hockweit, &c. Lipsia-, 
 1713, vol. viii. p. 102. seq. 
 
 But whatever may be the entertainment 
 such guests might afford when united, I never 
 found a dwarf capable of affording any when 
 alone. I have sometimes conversed with some 
 of these that were exhibited at our fairs about 
 Town, and have ever found their intellects as 
 contracted as their persons. They, in gene- 
 ral, seemed to me to have faculties very much 
 resembling those of children, and their desires 
 likewise of the same kind ; being diverted 
 with the same sports, and best pleased with 
 such companions. Of all those I have seen, 
 which may amount to five or six, the little man, 
 whose name was Coan, that died lately at 
 Chelsea, was the most intelligent and sprightly. 
 I have heard him and the giant, who snug at 
 the theatres, sustain a very ridiculous duct, 
 to which they were taught to give great spirit. 
 But this mirth, and seeming sagacity, were 
 but assumed. He had, by long habit, been 
 taught to look cheerful upon the approach of 
 company ; and his conversation was but the 
 mere etiquette of a person that had been used 
 to receive visiters. When driven out of his 
 walk, nothing could be more stupid or igno- 
 rant, nothing more dejected or forlorn. But 
 we have a complete history of a dwarf, very 
 accurately related by Mr. Daubenton, in his 
 part of the Histoire Naturelle ; which I will 
 here take leave to translate. 
 
 This dwarf, whose name was Baby, was 
 well known, having spent the greatest part 
 of his life at Lunenville, in the palace of Sta- 
 nislaus, the titular king of Poland. He was 
 born near the village of Plaisne, in France, in 
 the year 1741. His father and mother were 
 peasants, both of good constitutions, and inured 
 to a life of husbandry and labour. Baby, 
 when born, weighed but a pound and a quar- 
 ter. We are not informed of the dimensions 
 of his body at that time ; but we may conjec- 
 ture they were very small, as he was present- 
 ed on a plate to be baptized, and for a long 
 time lay in a slipper. His mouth, although 
 proportioned to the rest of his body, was not, 
 at that time, large enough to take in the nip- 
 ple; and he was, therefore, obliged to be suck- 
 led by a she-goat that was in the house ; and 
 that served as a nurse, attending to his cries 
 with a kind of maternal fondness. He began 
 to articulate some words when eighteen months 
 old ; and at two vears he was able to walk 
 2L* 
 
190 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 alone. He was then fitted with shoes that 
 were about an inch and a half long. He was 
 attacked with several acute disorders; but 
 the small-pox was the only one which left any 
 marks behind it. Until he was six years old, 
 he eat no other food but pulse, potatoes, and 
 bacon. His father and mother were, from 
 their poverty, incapable of affording him any 
 better nourishment ; and his education was 
 little better than his food, being bred up 
 among the rustics of the place. At six years 
 old he was about fifteen inches high ; and his 
 whole body weighed but thirteen pounds. 
 Notwithstanding this, he was well proportion- 
 ed, and handsome ; his health Avas good, but 
 his understanding scarcely passed tlie bounds 
 of instinct. It was at that time that the king 
 of Poland, having heard of such a curiosity, 
 had him conveyed to Lunenville, gave him 
 the name of Baby, and kept him in his palace. 
 
 Baby, having thus quitted the hard conditi- 
 on of a peasant, to enjoy all the comforts and 
 conveniences of life, seemed to receive no al- 
 teration from his new way of living, either in 
 mind or person. He preserved the goodness 
 of his constitution till about the age of sixteen, 
 but his body seemed to increase very slowly 
 during the whole time ; and his stupidity was 
 such, that all instructions were lost in improv- 
 ing his understanding. He could never be 
 brought to have any sense of religion, nor even 
 to show the least signs of a reasoning faculty. 
 They attempted to teach him dancing and 
 music, but in vain : he never could make any 
 thing of music; and as for dancing, although 
 he beat time tolerably exact, yet he could 
 never remember the figure, but while his dan- 
 cing master stood by to direct his motions. 
 Notwithstanding, a mind thus destitute of un- 
 derstanding was not without its passions ; an- 
 ger and jealousy harassed it at times; nor 
 was he without desires of another nature. 
 
 At the age of sixteen, Baby wns twenty-nine 
 inches tall ; at this he rested ; but having thus 
 arrived at his acme, the alterations of puber- 
 ty, or rather, perhaps, of old age, came fast 
 upon him. From being very beautiful, the 
 poor little creature now became quite deform- 
 ed; his strength quite forsook him; his back- 
 bone began to bend ; his head hung forward ; 
 his legs grew weak; one of his shoulders turn- 
 ed awry; and his nose grew disproportionably 
 
 large. With his strength, his natural spirits 
 also forsook him ; and, by the time he was 
 twenty, he was grown feeble, decrepit, and 
 marked with the strongest impressions of old 
 age. It had been before remarked by some, 
 that he would die of old age before he arriv- 
 ed at thirty; and, in fact, by the time he was 
 twenty-two, he could scarcely walk a hun- 
 dred paces, being worn out with the multipli- 
 r city of his years, and bent under the burden 
 of protracted life. In this year he died : a 
 cold, attended with a slight fever, threw him 
 into a kind of lethargy, which had a few mo- 
 mentary intervals ; but he could scarcely 'be 
 brought to speak. However, it is asserted, 
 that in the five last years in his life he show- 
 ed a clearer understanding than in his times 
 of best health : but at length he died, after 
 enduring great agonies, in the twenty-second 
 year of his age. 
 
 Opposite to this accidental diminution of 
 the human race, is that of its extraordinary 
 magnitude. Concerning the reality of a na- 
 tion of giants, there have been many disputes 
 among the learned. Some have affirmed the 
 probability of such a race ; and others, as 
 warmly have denied the possibility of their 
 existence. But it is not from any speculative 
 reasonings, upon a subject of this kind, that 
 information is to be obtained ; it is not from 
 the disputes of I he scholar, but the labours of 
 the enterprising, that we are to be instructed 
 in this inquiry. Indeed, nothing can be more 
 absurd, than what some learned men have ad- 
 vanced upon this subject. It is very unlike- 
 ly, says Grew, that there should either be 
 dwarfs or giants; or if such, they cannot be 
 fitted for the usual enjoyment of life and rea- 
 son. Had man been born a dwarf, he could 
 not have been a reasonable creature : for to 
 that end, he must have a jolt head, and then 
 he would not have body and blood enough 
 to supply his brain with spirits ; or if he had 
 a small head, proportionable to his body, 
 there would not be brain enough for conduct- 
 ing life. But it is still worse with giants; and 
 there could never have been a nation of such, 
 for there would not be food enough found in 
 any country to sustain them ; or, if there were 
 beasts sufficient for this purpose, there would 
 not be grass enough for their maintenance. 
 But what is stiU more, add others, giants could 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 191 
 
 never be able to support the weight of their 
 own bodies ; since a man of ten feet high, must 
 be eight times as heavy as one of the ordinary 
 stature ; whereas he has but twice the size of 
 muscles to support such a burden : and, con- 
 sequently, would be overloaded with the weight 
 of his own body. Such arc the theories upon 
 this subject; and they require no other answer, 
 but that experience proves them both to be 
 false : dwarfs are found capable of life and 
 reason ; and giants are seen to carry their own 
 bodies. We have several accounts from mari- 
 ners, that a nation of giants actually exists ; 
 and mere speculation should never induce us to 
 doubt their veracity. 
 
 Ferdinand Magellan was the first who dis- 
 covered this race of people along the coast 
 towards the extremity of South America. Ma- 
 gellan was a Portuguese, of noble extraction ; 
 who having long behaved with great bravery, 
 under Albuquerque, the conqueror of India, he 
 was treated with neglect by the court, upon 
 his return. Applying, therefore, to the king 
 of Spain, he was intrusted with the command 
 of five ships, to subdue the Molucca islands ; 
 upon one of which he was slain. It was in 
 his voyage thither, that he happened to winter 
 in St. Julian's Bay, an American harbour, 
 forty-nine degrees south of the line. In this 
 desolate region, where nothing was seen but 
 objects of terror, where neither trees nor ver- 
 dure drest the face of the country, they remain- 
 ed for some months without seeing any human 
 creature. They had judged the country to be 
 utterly uninhabitable ; when one day, they saw 
 approaching, as if he had been dropt from the 
 clouds, a man of enormous stature, dancing 
 and singing, and putting dust upon his head, 
 as they supposed, in token of peace. This 
 overture for friendship was, by Magellan's 
 command, quickly answered by the rest of his 
 men ; and the giant approaching, testified 
 every mark of astonishment and surprise. He 
 was so tall, that the Spaniards only reached 
 his waist ; his face was broad, his colour brown, 
 and painted over with a variety of tints ; each 
 cheek had the resemblance of a heart drawn 
 upon it ; his hair was approaching to white- 
 ness ; he was clothed in skins, and armed with 
 a bow. Being treated with kindness, and dis- 
 missed with some trifling presents, he soon re- 
 turned with many more of the same stature ; 
 two of whom the mariners decoyed on ship- 
 
 board : nothing could be more gentle than they 
 were in the beginning ; they considered the 
 fetters that were preparing for them as orna- 
 ments, and played with them like children with 
 their toys ; but when they found for what pur- 
 pose they were intended, they instantly exert- 
 ed their amazing strength, and broke them in 
 pieces with a very easy effort. This account, 
 with a variety of other circumstances, has been 
 confirmed by succeeding travellers : Herrara, 
 Scbald, Wert, Oliver Van Noort, and James 
 le Maire, all correspond in affirming the fact, 
 although they differ in many particulars of 
 their respective descriptions. The last voyager 
 we have had, that has seen this enormous race, 
 is Commodore Byron. I have talked with the 
 person who first gave the relation of that voy- 
 age,and who was the carpenter of the Commo- 
 dore's ship ; he was a sensible, understanding 
 man, and I believe extremely faithful. By him, 
 therefore, I was assured, in the most solemn 
 manner, of the truth of his relation ; and this 
 account has since been confirmed by one or 
 two publications ; in all which the particulars 
 are pretty nearly the same. One of the circum- 
 stances which most puzzled me to reconcile to 
 probability, was that of the horses, on which 
 they are described as riding down to the shore. 
 We know the American horse to be of Euro- 
 pean breed ; and, in some measure, to be de- 
 generated from the original. I was at a loss, 
 therefore, to account how a horse of not more 
 than fourteen hands high, was capable of car- 
 rying a man of nine feet ; or, in other words, 
 an animal almost as large as itself. But the 
 wonder will cease, when we consider, that so 
 small a beast as an ass, will carry a man of 
 ordinary size tolerably well; and the proportion 
 between this and the former instance is nearly 
 exact. We can no longer, therefore, refuse our 
 assent to the existence of this gigantic race of 
 mankind : in what manner they are propaga- 
 ted, or under what regulation's they live, is a 
 subject that remains for future investigation. 
 It should appear, however, that thfy are a 
 wandering nation, changing their abode with 
 the courscTof the sun, and shifting their situa- 
 tion, for the convenience of food, climate, or 
 pasture." 
 
 This race of giants are described as possessed 
 
 a Later voyagers have not confirmed this account, in 
 some particulars. 
 
192 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 of great strength; and, no doubt, they must be 
 very different from those accidental giants that 
 are to be seen in different parts of Europe. 
 Stature, with these, seems rather their infirmity 
 than their pride ; and adds to their burden, 
 without increasing their strength. Of those 
 I have seen, the generality were ill formed 
 and unhealthful ; weak in their persons, or 
 incapable of exerting what strength they were jj 
 possessed of. The same defects of understand- 
 ing that attended those of suppressed stature, 
 were found in those who were thus overgrown : 
 they were heavy, phlegmatic, stupid, and in- 
 clined to sadness. Their numbers, however, 
 are but few ; and it is thus kindly ordered by 
 Providence, that as the middle stature is the 
 best fitted for happiness, so the middle ranks 
 of mankind are produced in the greatest 
 variety. 
 
 However, mankind seems naturally to have 
 a respect for men of extraordinary stature ; and 
 it has been a supposition of long standing, that 
 our ancestors were much taller, as well as much 
 more beautiful, than we. This has been, in- 
 deed, a theme of poetical declamation from 
 the beginning ; and man was scarcely formed, 
 when he began to deplore an imaginary decay. 
 Nothing is more natural than this progress of 
 the mind, in looking up to antiquity with reve- 
 rential wonder. Having been accustomed to 
 compare the wisdom of our fathers with our 
 own, in early imbecility, the impression of their 
 superiority remains when they no longer exist, 
 and when we cease to be inferior. Thus the 
 men of every age consider the past as wiser 
 than the present ; and the reverence seems to 
 accumulate as our imaginations ascend. For 
 this reason, we allow remote antiquity many 
 advantages, without disputing their title : the 
 inhabitants of uncivilized countries represent 
 them as taller and stronger ; and the people of 
 a more polished nation, as more healthy and 
 more wise. Nevertheless, these attributes seem 
 to be only the prejudices of ingenuous minds; 
 a kind of gratitude, which we hope in turn to 
 receive from posterity. The ordinary stature 
 of men, Mr. Derham observes, is, in all pro- 
 bability, the same now as at the beginning. 
 The oldest measure we have of the human 
 
 figure, is in the monument of Cheops, in the 
 first pyramid of Egypt. This must have sub- 
 sisted many hundred years before the times of 
 Homer, who is the first that deplores the decay. 
 This monument, hoivcver, scarcely exceeds 
 the measure of our ordinary coffins : the cavity 
 is no more than six feet long, two feet wide, 
 and deep in about the same proportion. Several 
 mummies also, of a very early age, are found 
 to be only of the ordinary stature ; and show 
 that, for these three thousand years at least, 
 men have not suffered the least diminution. 
 We have many corroborating proofs of this, in 
 the ancient pieces of armour which are dug up 
 in different parts of Europe. The brass hel- 
 met dug up at Medauro, fits one of our men, 
 and yet is allowed to have been left there at the 
 overthrow of Asdrubal. Some of our finest 
 antique statues, which we learn from Pliny and 
 others to be exactly as big as the life, still 
 continue to this day, remaining monuments of 
 the superior excellence of their workmen indeed, 
 but not of the superiority of their stature. We 
 may conclude, therefore, that men have been 
 in all ages pretty much of the same size they 
 are at present; and that the only difference 
 must have been accidental, or perhaps na- 
 tional. 
 
 As to the superior beauty of our ancestors, 
 it is not easy to make the comparison : beauty 
 seems a very uncertain charm ; and frequently 
 is less in the object, than in the eye of the be- 
 holder. Were a modern lady's face formed 
 exactly like the Venus of Medicis, or the Sleep- 
 ing Vestal, she would scarcely be considered 
 beautiful, except by the lovers of antiquity, 
 whom of all her admirers perhaps she would 
 be least desirous of pleasing. It is true, that 
 we have some disorders among us that disfigure 
 the features, and from which the ancients were 
 exempt ; but it is equally true, that we want 
 some which were common among them, and 
 which were equally deforming. As for their 
 intellectual powers, these also were probably the 
 same as ours : we excel them in the sciences, 
 which may be considered as a history of ac- 
 cumulated experience ; and they excel us in the 
 poetic arts, as they had the first rifling of all 
 the striking images of Nature. 
 
ANIMALS 
 
 193 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 OF MUMMIES, WAX-WORKS, &c. 
 
 " MAN 8 is not content with the usual term 
 of life, but he is willing to lengthen out his ex- 
 istence by art ; and although he cannot pre- 
 vent death, he tries to obviate his dissolution. 
 It is natural to attempt to preserve even the 
 most trifling relics of what has long given us 
 pleasure ; nor does the mind separate from 
 the body, without a wish, that even the wretch- 
 ed heap of dust it leaves behind may yet be 
 remembered. The embalming, practised in 
 various nations, probably had its rise in this 
 fond desire : an urn filled with ashes, among 
 the Romans, served as a pledge of continu- 
 ing affection; and even the grassy graves in 
 our own church-yards, are raised above the 
 surface, with the desire that the body below 
 should not be wholly forgotten. The soul, 
 ardent after eternity for itself, is willing to 
 procure, even for the body, a prolonged du- 
 ration." 
 
 But of all nations, the Egyptians carried 
 this art to the highest perfection : as it Avas 
 a principle of their religion, to suppose the 
 soul continued only coeval to the duration of 
 the body, they tried every art to extend the 
 life of the one by preventing the dissolution 
 of the other. In this practice they were ex- 
 ercised from the earliest ages ; and the mum- 
 mies they have embalmed in this manner, con- 
 tinue in great numbers to the present day. 
 We are told, in Genesis, that Joseph seeing 
 his father expire, gave orders to his physici- 
 ans to embalm the body, which they execu- 
 ted in the compass of forty days, the usual 
 time of embalming. Herodotus also, the most 
 ancient of the profane historians, gives us a 
 copious detail of this art, as it was practised, 
 in his time, among the Egyptians. There are 
 certain men among them, says he, who prac- 
 tise embalming as a trade ; which they per- 
 form with all expedition possible. In the first 
 place, they draw out the brain through* the 
 
 * This chapter I have, in a great measure, translated 
 from Mr. Daubenton. Whatever is atlded from others, 
 is marked with inverted commas. 
 
 nostrils, with irons adapted to this purpose; 
 and in proportion as they evacuate it in 
 this manner, they fill up the cavity with aro- 
 matics : they next cut open the belly, near 
 the sides, with a sharpened stone, and take 
 out the entrails, which they cleanse, and wash 
 in palm oil ; having performed this operation, 
 they roll them in aromatic powder, fill them 
 with myrrh, cassia, and other perfumes, ex- 
 cept incense ; and replace them, sewing up 
 the body again. After these precautions, they 
 salt the body with nitre, and keep it in the 
 salting-place for seventy days, it not being per- 
 mitted to preserve it so any longer. When 
 the seventy days are accomplished, and the 
 body washed once more, they swathe it in 
 bands made of linen, which have been dipt in 
 a gum the Egyptians use instead of salt. When 
 the friends have taken back the body, they 
 make a hollow trough, something like the shape 
 of a man, in which they place the body ; and 
 this they enclose in a box, preserving the 
 whole as a most precious relic, placed against 
 the wall. Such are the ceremonies used with 
 regard to the rich. As for those who are con- 
 tented with a humbler preparation, they treat 
 them as follows : they fill a syringe with an 
 odoriferous liquor extracted from the cedar- 
 tree, and, without making any incision, inject 
 it up the body of the deceased, and then keep 
 it in nitre, as long as in the former case. 
 When the time is expired, they evacuate the 
 body of the cedar liquor which had been in- 
 jected ; and such is theefTect of this operation, 
 that the liquor dissolves the intestines, and 
 brings them away : the nitre also serves to eat 
 away the flesh, and leaves only the skin and 
 the bones remaining. This done, the body 
 is returned to the friends, and the embalmer 
 takes no farther trouble about it. The third 
 method of embalming those of the meanest 
 condition, is merely by purging and cleansing 
 the intestines by frequent injections, and pre- 
 serving the body for a similar term in nitre, 
 at the end of which it is restored to the re- 
 lations. 
 
194 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 Diodprus Siculus also makes mention of the 
 manner in which these embalmings are per- 
 formed. According to him, there were seve- 
 ral officers appointed for this purpose; the 
 first of them, who was called the scribe, mark- 
 ed those parts of the body, on the left side, 
 which were to be opened ; the cutter made 
 the incision; and one of those that were to 
 salt it drew out all the bowels, except the 
 heart and the kidneys ; another washed them 
 in palm wine and odoriferous liquors; after- 
 wards they anointed for above thirty days 
 with cedar, gum, myrrh, cinnamon, and other 
 perfumes. These aromatics preserved the 
 body entire for a long time, and gave a very 
 agreeable odour. It was not in the least dis- 
 figured by this preparation; after which it 
 was returned to the relations, who kept it in 
 a coffin, placed upright against a wall. 
 
 Most of the modern writers who have treat- 
 ed on this subject, have merely repeated what 
 has been said by Herodotus ; and if they add 
 any thing of their own, it is but merely from 
 conjecture. Dumont observes, that it is very 
 probable, that aloes, bitumen, and cinnamon, 
 make a principal part of the composition 
 which is used on this occasion : he adds, that, 
 after embalming, the body is put into a coffin, 
 made of the sycamore-tree, which is almost 
 incorruptible. Mr. Grew remarks, that in an 
 Egyptian mummy, in the possession of the 
 Royal Society, the preparation was so pene- 
 trating as to enter into the very substance of 
 the bones, and rendered them so black, that 
 they seemed to have been burnt. From this 
 he is induced to believe, that the Egyptians 
 had a custom of embalming their dead, by 
 boiling them in a kind of liquid preparation, 
 until all the aqueous parts of the body were 
 exhaled away ; and until the oily or gummy 
 matter had penetrated throughout. He pro- 
 poses, in consequence of this, a method of 
 macerating, and afterwards of boiling, the 
 body in oil of walnut. 
 
 I am, for my own part, of opinion, that there 
 were several ways of preserving dead bodies 
 from putrefaction; and that this would be 
 no difficult matter, since different nations 
 have all succeeded in the attempt. We have 
 an example of this kind among the Guanches, 
 the ancient inhabitants of the island of Te- 
 neriffi Those who survived the general de- 
 
 struction of this people by the Spaniards, 
 when they conquered this island, informed 
 them, that the art of embalming was still pre- 
 served there ; and that there was a tribe of 
 priests among them possessed of the secret, 
 which they kept concealed as a sacred mys- 
 tery. As the greatest part of the nation was 
 destroyed, the Spaniards could not arrive at 
 a complete knowledge of this art; they only 
 found out a few of the particulars. Having 
 taken out the bowels, they washed the body 
 several times in a lee, made of the dried bark 
 of the pine-tree, warmed, during the summer, 
 by the sun, or by a stove in the winter. They 
 afterwards anointed it with butter, or the fat 
 of bears, which they had previously boiled 
 with odoriferous herbs, such as sage and la- 
 vender. After this unction, they suffered the 
 body to dry ; and then repeated the operati- 
 on as often as it was necessary, until the whole 
 substance was impregnated with the prepa- 
 ration. When it was become very light, it 
 was then a certain sign that it was fit and pro- 
 perly prepared. They then rolled it up in 
 the dried skins of goats ; which, when they 
 had a mind to save expense, they suffered to 
 remain with the hair still growing upon them. 
 Purchas assures us, that he has seen mummies 
 of this kind in London; and mentions the 
 name of a gentleman who had seen several 
 of them in the island of TeneriffJ which were 
 supposed to have been two thousand years 
 old ; but without any certain proofs of such 
 great antiquity. This people, who probably 
 came first from the coasts of Africa, might 
 have learned this art from the Egyptians, as 
 there was a traffic carried on from thence into 
 the most internal parts of Africa. 
 
 Father Acosta and Garcilasso de la Vega 
 make no doubt but that the Peruvians under- 
 stood the art of preserving their dead for a 
 very long space of time. They assert their 
 having seen ihe bodies of several incas, that 
 were perfectly preserved. They still preserv- 
 ed their hair and their eye-brows; but they 
 had eyes made of gold, put in the places of 
 those taken out. They were clothed in their 
 usualliabits, and seated in the manner of the 
 Indians, their arms placed on their breasts. 
 Garcilasso touched one of their fingers, and 
 found it apparently as hard as wood ; and the 
 whole body was not heavy enough to over 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 195 
 
 burden a weak mnn, who should attempt to 
 carry it away. Acosta presumes that these 
 bodies were embalmed with a bitumen, of 
 which the Indians knew the properties. Gar- 
 cil is-;o, however, is of a different opinion, as 
 he s.iw nothing bituminous about them ; but 
 he confesses that he di-l not examine them very 
 particularly; an I he regrets his not having in- 
 quired into the methods used for that purpose. 
 He adds, tiiat being a Peruvian, his country- 
 men would not have scrupled to inform him 
 of the secret, if they really had it still among 
 them. 
 
 Garcilasso, thus being ignorant of the secret, 
 makes use of some inductions to throw light 
 upon the subject; he asserts, that the air is so 
 dry and so cold at Cusco, that flesh dries there 
 like wood, without corrupting ; and he is of 
 opinion, that they dried the body in snow be- 
 fore they applied the bitumen : he adds, that 
 in the times of the incas, they usually dried the 
 flesh which was designed for the use of the 
 army ; and that, when it had lost its humidity, 
 it .night be kept without salt, or any other 
 preparation. 
 
 It is said, that at Spitzbergen, which lies 
 within the arctic circle, and consequently in 
 the coldest climate, bodies never corrupt, nor 
 suffer any apparent alteration, even though 
 buried for thirty years. Nothing corrupts or 
 putrefies in that climate ; the wood which has 
 been employed in building those houses where 
 the train-oil is separated, appears as fresh as 
 the day it was first cut. 
 
 If excessive cold, therefore, be thus capable 
 of preserving bodies from corruption, it is not 
 less certain that a great degree of dryness, pro- 
 duced by heat, produces the same effect. It is 
 well known that the men and animals that are 
 buried in the sands of Arabia quickly dry up, 
 and continue in preservation for several 'ages, 
 as if they had been actually embalmed. It has 
 often happened, that whole caravans have 
 perished in crossing those deserts, either by the 
 burning winds that infest them, or by the sands 
 which are raised by the tempest, and over- 
 whelm every creature in certain ruin. The 
 bodies of those persons are preserved entire ; 
 and they are often found in this condition by 
 soiiie accidental passenger. Many authors, 
 both ancient and modern, make mention of 
 such mummies as these ; and Shaw says, that 
 he has been assured that numbers of men, as 
 
 well as other animals, have been tfius preserv- 
 ed, for times immemorial, in the burning sands 
 of Saibah, which is a place, he supposes, situate 
 between Kasein and Kgypt. 
 
 The corruption of dead bodies being entire- 
 ly caused by the fermentation of the humours, 
 whatever is capable of hindering or retarding 
 this fermentation, will contribute to their pre- 
 servation. Both heat and cold, though so 
 contrary in themselves, produce similar effects 
 in this particular, by drying up the humours. 
 The cold in condensing and thickening them, 
 and the heat in evaporating them before they 
 have time to act upon the solids. But it is 
 necessary that these extremes should be con- 
 stant ; for if they succeed each other so as that 
 cold shall follow heat, or dryness humidity, it 
 must then necessarily happen that corrnp ion 
 must ensue. However, in temperate climates, 
 there are natural causes capable of preserving 
 dead bodies; among which we may reckon the 
 quality of the earth in which they are buried. 
 If the earth be drying and astringent, it nil! 
 imbibe the humidity of the body ; and it n>av 
 probably be for this reason that the bodies 
 buried in the monastery of the Cordeliers, at 
 Thoulouse, do not putrefy, but dry in such a 
 manner that they may be lifted up by one arm. 
 
 The gums, resins, and bitumens, with which 
 dead bodies are embalmed, keep off the im- 
 pressions which they would else receive from 
 thealteration of the temperature of the air; and 
 still more, if a body thus prepared be placed in 
 a dry or burning sand, the most powerful 
 means will be united for its preservation. We 
 are not to be surprised, therefore, at w hat we 
 are told by Chardin, of the country of Chorosan, 
 in Persia. The bodies which have been pre- 
 viously embalmed, and buried in the sands of 
 that country, as he assures us, are found to 
 petrefy, or, in other words, to become ex- 
 tremely hard, and are preserved for sevi ral 
 ages. It is asserted, that some of them have 
 continued for a thousand years. 
 
 The Egyptians, as has been mentioned above, 
 swathed the body with linen bands, and en- 
 closed it in a coffin : however, it is probable 
 that, with all these precautions, they would not 
 have continued till now, if the tombs, or pits, 
 in which they were placed, had not been dug 
 in a dry chalky soil, which was not susceptible 
 of humidity; and which was besides covered 
 over with a dry sand of several feet thickness. 
 2 M 
 
196 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 The sepulchres of the ancient Egyptians 
 subsist to this day. Most travellers who have 
 been in Egypt have described those of ancient 
 mummiesj and have seen the mummies interred 
 there. These eatacombsare within two leagues 
 of the ruins of the city, nine leagues from 
 Grand Cairo, and about two miles from the 
 village of Zaccara. They extend from thence 
 to the Pyramids of Pharaoh, which are about 
 eight miles distant. These sepulchres lie in a 
 field, covered with a fine running sand, of a 
 yellowish colour. The country is dry and 
 hilly ; the entrance of the tombs is choked up 
 with sand ; there are many open, but several 
 more that are still concealed. The inhabitants 
 of the neighbouring village have no other com- 
 merce, or "method of subsisting, but by seeking 
 out mummies, and selling them to such stran- 
 gers as happen to be at Grand Cairo. This 
 commerce, some years ago, was not only a 
 very common, but a very gainful one. A com- 
 plete mummy was often sold for twenty pounds: 
 but it must not be supposed that it was bought 
 at such a high price from a mere passion for 
 antiquity ; there were much more powerful 
 motives for this traffic. Mummy, at that time, 
 made a considerable article in medicine ; and 
 a thousand imaginary virtues were ascribed to 
 it, for the cure of most disorders, particularly 
 of the paralytic kind. There was no shop, 
 therefore, without mummy in it ; and no phy- 
 sician thought he had properly treated his 
 patient without adding this to his prescription. 
 Induced by the general repute, in which this 
 supposed drug was at that time, several Jews, 
 both of Italy and France, found out the art of 
 imitating mummy so exactly, that they, for a 
 long time, deceived all Europe. This they did 
 by drying dead bodies in ovens, after having 
 prepared them with myrrh, aloes, and bitumen. 
 Still, however, the request for mummies con- 
 tinued, and a variety of cures were daily 
 ascribed to them. At length, Paraeus wrote a 
 treatise on their total inefficacy in physic ; and 
 showed their abuse in loading the stomach, to 
 (he exclusion of more efficacious medicines. 
 From that time, therefore, their reputation be- 
 gan to decline ; the Jews discontinued their 
 counterfeits, and the trade returned entire to 
 the Egyptians, when it was no longer of value. 
 The industry of seeking after mummies is now 
 totally relaxed, their price merely arbitrary, 
 and just what the curious are willing to give. 
 
 In seeking for mummies, they first clear away 
 the sand, which they may do for weeks to- 
 gether, without finding what is wanted. Upon 
 coming to a little square opening of about 
 eighteen feet in depth, they descend into it, by 
 holes for the feet, placed at proper intervals, 
 and there they are sure of finding what they 
 seek for. These caves, or wells, as they call 
 them, are hollowed out of a white free-stone, 
 which is found in all this country, a few feet 
 below the covering of sand. When one gets 
 to the bottom of these, which are sometimes 
 forty feet below the surface, there are several 
 square openings on each side, into passages of 
 ten or fifteen feet wide, and these lead to cham- 
 bers of fifteen or twenty feet square. These 
 arc all hewn out of the rock ; and in each of 
 the catacombs are to be found several of these 
 apartments, communicating with each other. 
 They extend a great way under ground, so as 
 to be under the city of Memphis, and in a 
 manner to undermine its environs. 
 
 In some of the chambers, the walls are 
 adorned with figures and hieroglyphics ; in 
 others, the mummies are found in tombs round 
 the apartment hollowed out in the rock. These 
 tombs are upright, and cut into the shape of a 
 man, with his arms stretched out. There are 
 others found, and these in the greatest number, 
 in wooden-coffins, or in cloths covered with 
 bitumen. These coffins, or wrappers, are 
 covered all over with a variety of ornaments. 
 There are some of them painted, and adorned 
 with figures, such as that of Death, and the 
 leaden seals, on which several characters are 
 engraven. Some of these coffins are carved 
 into the human shape ; but the head alone is 
 distinguishable : the rest of the body is all of a 
 piece, and terminated by a pedestal, while there 
 are some with their arms hanging down ; and 
 it is by these marks that the bodies of persons 
 of rank are distinguished from those of tlie 
 meaner order. These are generally found ly- 
 ing on the floor, without any profusion of orna- 
 ments ; and in some chambers the mummies 
 are found indiscriminately piled upon each 
 other, and buried in the sand. 
 
 Many mummies are found lying on their 
 backs ; their heads turned to the north, and 
 their hands placed on the belly. The bands 
 of linen, with which these were swathed, are 
 found to be more than a thousand yards long ; 
 and, of consequence, the number of circum- 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 197 
 
 volutions they make about the body must 
 have been amazing. Those were performed 
 by beginning at the head, and ending at the 
 feet; but they contrived it so as to avoid co- 
 vering the face. However, when the face is 
 entirely uncovered, it moulders into dust im- 
 mediately upon the admission of the air. 
 When, therefore, it is preserved entire,a slight 
 covering of cloth is so disposed over it, that 
 the shape of the eyes, the nose, and the mouth, 
 are seen under it. Some mummies have been 
 found with a long beard, and hair that reach- 
 ed down to the mid-leg, nails of a surprising 
 length, and some gilt, or at least painted of a 
 gold colour. Some are found with bands upon 
 the breast, covered with hieroglyphics, in gold, 
 silver, or in green; and some with tutelary 
 idols, and other figures of jasper, within their 
 body. A piece of gold also has often been 
 found under their tongues, of about two pis- 
 toles value ; and, for this reason, the Arabians 
 spoil all the mummies they meet with, in 
 order to get at the gold. 
 
 But although art, or accident, has thus been 
 found to preserve dead bodies entire, it must 
 by uo means be supposed that it is capable 
 
 tof preserving the exact form and lineaments 
 of the deceased person. Those bodies which 
 are found dried away in the deserts, or in 
 some particular church-yards, are totally de- 
 formed, and scarcely any lineaments remain 
 of their external structure. Nor are the mum- 
 mies preserved by embalming, in a better con- 
 dition. The flesh is dried away, hardened, 
 and hidden under a variety of bandages; the 
 bowels, as we have seen, are totally removed ; 
 and from hence, in the most perfect of them, 
 we see only a shapeless mass of skin discolour- 
 ed ; and even the features scarcely distin- 
 guishable. The art is, therefore, an effort ra- 
 ther of preserving the substance than the like- 
 ness of the deceased ; and has, consequently, 
 not been brought to its highest pitch of per- 
 fection. It appears from a mummy, not long 
 since dug up in France, that the art of embalm- 
 ing was more completely understood in the 
 western world than even in Egypt. This mum- 
 my, which was dug up at Auvergne, was an 
 amazing instance of their skill, and is one of 
 the most curious relics in the art of preserva- 
 tion. As some peasants, in that part of the 
 world, were digging in a field, near Rion. with- 
 
 in about twenty-six paces of the highway, be- 
 tween that and the river Artiers, they disco- 
 vered a tomb, about afoot and a half beneath 
 the surface. It was composed only of two 
 stones ; one of which formed the body of the 
 sepulchre, and the other the cover. This 
 tomb was of free-stone, seven feet and a halt 
 long, three feet and a half broad, and aboul 
 three feet high. It was of rude workmanship ; 
 the cover had been polished, but was without 
 figure or inscription : within this tomb was 
 placed a leaden-coffin, four feet seven inches 
 long, fourteen inches broad, and fifteen high. 
 It was not made coffin-fashion, but oblong, 
 like a box, equally broad at both ends, and 
 covered with a lid that fitted on like a snuff- 
 box, without a hinge. This cover had two 
 holes in it, each of about two inches long, and 
 very narrow, filled with a substance resem- 
 bling butter; but for what purpose intended 
 remains unknown. Within this coffin was a 
 mummy, in the highest and most perfect pre- 
 servation. The internal sides of the coffin 
 were filled with an aromatic substance, min- 
 gled with clay. Round the mummy was wrap- 
 ped a coarse cloth, in form of a napkin; un- 
 der this were two shirts, or shrouds, of the 
 most exquisite texture ; beneath these a ban- 
 dage, which covered all parts of the body, 
 like an infant in swaddling-clothes; still un- 
 der this general bandage there was another, 
 which went particularly round the extremities, 
 the hands, and the legs. The head was co- 
 vered with two caps ; the feet and hands 
 were without any particular bandages; and 
 the whole body was covered with an aromatic 
 substance an inch thick. When these were 
 removed, arid thebody exposed naked to view, 
 nothing could be more astonishing than the 
 preservation of the whole, and the exact re- 
 semblance it bore to a body that had been 
 dead a day or two before. It appeared well 
 proportioned, except that the head was rather 
 large, and the feet small. The skin had all 
 the pliancy and colour of a body lately dead : 
 the visage, however, was of a brownish hue. 
 The belly yielded to the touch ; all the joints 
 were flexible, except those of the legs and 
 f<vt ; the fingers stretched forth of themselves 
 when bent inwards. The nails still continued 
 entire; and all the marks of the joints, both 
 in the fingers, the palms of the hands, and the 
 2 M* 
 
198 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 soles of the feet, remained perfectly visible. 
 The bones of the arms and legs were soft and 
 pliant; but, on the contrary, those of the skull 
 preserved their rigidity ; the hair, which only 
 covered the back of the head, was of a ches- 
 nut colour, and about two inches long. The 
 pericranium at top was separated from the 
 skull by an incision, in order to open it for the 
 introducing proper aromatics in the place of 
 the brain, where they were found mixed with 
 clay. The teeth, the tongue, and the ears, 
 were all preserved in perfect form. The in- 
 testines were not taken out of the body, but 
 remained pliant and entire, as in a fresh sub- 
 ject ; and the breast was made to rise and iall 
 like a pair of bellows. The embalming pre- 
 paration had a very strong and pungent smell, 
 which the body preserved for more than a 
 month after it was exposed to the air. This 
 odour was perceived wherever the mummy 
 was laid; although it remained there but a 
 very short time, it was even pretended that 
 the peasants of the neighbouring villages were 
 incommoded by it. if one touched either the 
 mummy, or any part of the preparation, the 
 hands smelled of it for several hours after, al- 
 though washed with water, spirit of wine, or 
 vinegar. This mummy, having remained ex- 
 posed for some months to the curiosity of the 
 public, began to suffer some mutilations. A 
 part of the skin of the forehead was cut off, 
 the teeth were drawn out, and some attempts 
 were made to pull away the tongue. It was, 
 therefore, put into a glass-case, and shortly 
 after transmitted to the king of France's ca- 
 binet at Paris. 
 
 There are many reasons to believe this to 
 be the body of a person of the highest dis- 
 tinction : however, no marks remain to assure 
 us either of the quality of the person, or the 
 time of his decease. There are only to be 
 seen some irregular figures on the coiBn ; one 
 of which represents a kind of star. There 
 were also some singular characters upon the 
 bandages, which were totally defaced by those 
 who had torn them away. However, it should 
 seem that it had remained for several ages in 
 this state, since the first years immediately 
 succeeding the interment, are usually those 
 in which the body is most liable to decay. 
 It appears also to be a much more perfect me- 
 thod of embalming than that of the Egyptian.-; 
 as in this the flesh continues with its natural 
 elasticity and colour, the bowels remain en- 
 tire, and the joints have almost the pliancy 
 which they had when the person was alive. 
 Upon the whole, it is probable that a much 
 less tedious preparation than that used by the 
 Egyptians would have sufficed to keep the 
 body from putrefaction; arid that an injec- 
 tion of petreoleum inwardly, and a layer of 
 asphaltum without, would have sufficed to have 
 made a mummy; and it is remarkable that 
 Auvergne, where this was found, affords these 
 two substances in sufficient plenty. This art, 
 therefore, might be brought to greater per- 
 fection than it has arrived at hitherto, were 
 the art worth preserving. But mankind have 
 long since grown wiser in this respect; and 
 think it unnecessary to keep by them adeform- 
 ed carcase, which, instead of aiding their mag- 
 nificence, must only serve to mortify their pride. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 OF ANIMALS 
 
 LEAVING man, we now descend to the 
 lower ranks of animated nature, and prepare 
 to examine the life, manners, and characters, 
 of these our humble partners in the creation. 
 But, in such a wonderful variety as is diffused 
 around us, where shall we begin ? The num- 
 ber of beings endued with life, as well as we, 
 
 seems, at first view, infinite. Not only the 
 forest, the waters, the air, teems with animals 
 of various kinds ; but almost every vegetable, 
 every leaf, has millions of minute inhabit .-.-Is, 
 each of which fill up the circle of its allc.ied 
 life, and some are found objects of the g cat- 
 est curiosity. In this seeming exuberance of 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 199 
 
 animals, it is natural for ignorance to lie down 
 in hopeless uncertainty, and to declare what 
 requires labour to particularize to be utterly 
 inscrutable. It is otherwise, however, with the 
 active and searching mind ; no way intimi- 
 dated with the immense variety, it begins the 
 tusk of numbering, grouping, and classing, all 
 the various kinds that fall within its notice ; 
 finds every day new relations between the 
 several parts of the creation ; acquires the 
 art of considering several at a time under one 
 point of view; and, at last, begins to find that 
 the variety is neither so great nor so inscru- 
 table as was at first imagined. As in a clear 
 night, the number of the stars seems infinite; 
 yet, if we sedulously attend to each in its place, 
 and regularly class them, they will soon be 
 found to diminish, and come within a very 
 scanty computation. 
 
 Method is one of the principal helps in na- 
 tural history, and without it very little pro- 
 gress can be made in this science. It is by 
 t'rnt alone we can hope to dissipate the glare, 
 if I may so express it, which arises from a 
 multiplicity of objects at once presenting them- 
 selves to the view. It is method that fixes the 
 attention to one point, and leads it, by slow 
 and certain degrees, to leave no part of na- 
 ture unobserved. 
 
 All naturalists, therefore, have been very 
 careful in adopting some method of classing 
 or grouping the several parts of nature; and 
 some have written books of natural history 
 with no other view. These methodical divi- 
 sions some have treated with contempt," not 
 considering that books, in general, are writ- 
 ten with opposite views ; some to be read, 
 and some only to be occasionly consulted. 
 The methodists in natural history, seem to be 
 content with the latter advantage ; and have 
 sacrificed to order alone, all the delights of 
 the subject, all the arts of heightening, awake- 
 ning, or continuing curiosity. But they cer- 
 tainly have the same use in science, that a 
 dictionary has in language; but with this dif- 
 ference, that in a dictionary we proceed from 
 the name to the definition; in a system of na- 
 tural history, we proceed from the definition 
 to find out the thing. Without the aid of sys- 
 tem, nature must still have lain undistinguish- 
 
 ' Mr. Buffon in his Introduction, &c. 
 
 ed, like furniture in a lumber-room : every 
 thing we wish for is there indeed, but we 
 know not where to find it. If, for instance, 
 in a morning excursion, I find a plant, or an 
 insect, the name of which I desire to learn ; 
 or, perhaps, am curious to know whether al- 
 ready known; in this inquiry I can expect 
 information only from one of these systems, 
 which being couched in a methodical form, 
 quickly directs me to what I seek for. Thus 
 we will suppose that our inquirer has met 
 with a spider, and that he has never seen such 
 an insect before. He is taught by the writer 
 of a system 1 ' to examine whether it has wings, 
 and he finds it has none. He, therefore, is to 
 look for it among the wingless insects, or the 
 Aptera. as Linna3us calls them: he then is to 
 sec whether the head and breast make one 
 part of the body, or are disunited ; he finds 
 they make one : he is then to reckon the num- 
 ber of feet and eyes, and he finds that it has 
 eight of each. The insect, therefore, must be 
 either a scorpion or a spider; but he lastly 
 examines its feelers, which he finds clavated, 
 or clubbed ; and, by all these marks, he at 
 last discovers it to be a spider. Of spiders, 
 there are forty-seven sorts; and, by reading 
 the description of each, the inquirer will learn 
 the name of that which he desires to know. 
 With the name of the insect, he is also direct- 
 ed to those authors that have giveri any ac- 
 count of it, and the page where that account 
 is to be found ; by this means he may know 
 at once what has been said of that animal by 
 others, and what there is of novelty in the re- 
 sult of his own researches. 
 
 From hence it will appear how useful those 
 systems in natural history are to the inquirer; 
 but, having given them all their merit, it would 
 be wrong not to observe, that they have, in 
 general, been very much abused. Their au- 
 thors, in general, seem to think that they are 
 improvers of natural history, when in reality 
 they are but guides ; they seem to boast that 
 they are adding to our knowledge, while they 
 are only arranging it. These authors, also, 
 seem to think that the reading of their works 
 and systems is the best method to attain a 
 knowledge of nature ; but setting aside the 
 impossibility of getting through whole volumes 
 
 a Linnzeus. 
 
200 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 of a dry long catalogue, the multiplicity of 
 whose contents is too great for even the strong- 
 est memory, such works rather tell us the 
 names than the history of the creature we 
 desire to inquire after. In these dreary pa- 
 ges, every insect or plant, that has a name, 
 makes as distinguished a figure as the most 
 wonderful, or the most useful. The true end 
 of studying nature is to make a just selection, 
 to find those parts of it that most conduce to 
 our pleasure or convenience, and to leave 
 the rest in neglect. But these systems, em- 
 ploying the same degree of attention upon all, 
 give us no opportunities of knowing which 
 most deserves attention ; and he who has 
 made his knowledge from such systems only, 
 has his memory crowded with a number of 
 trifling, or minute particulars, which it should 
 he his business and his labour to forget. 
 These books, as was said before, are useful 
 to be consulted, but they are very unneces- 
 sary to be read; no inquirer into nature should 
 be without one of them; and, without any 
 doubt, Linnceus deserves the preference. 
 
 One fault more, in almost all these syste- 
 matic writers, and that which leads me to the 
 subject of the present chapter, is, that seeing 
 the necessity of methodical distribution in 
 some parts of nature, they have introduced 
 it into all. Finding the utility of arranging 
 plants, birds, or insects, they have arranged 
 quadrupeds also with the same assiduity ; 
 and although the number of these is so few as 
 not to exceed two hundred," they have dark- 
 ened the subject with distinctions and divi- 
 sions, which only serve to puzzle and perplex. 
 All method is only useful in giving perspicui- 
 ty, where the subject is either dark or copious : 
 but with regard to quadrupeds, the number 
 isbutfew; many of themweare well acquaint- 
 ed with by habit ; and the rest may very rea- 
 dily be known, without any method. In treat- 
 ing of such, therefore, it would be useless to 
 confound the reader with a multiplicity of 
 divisions: as quadrupeds are conspicuous 
 enough to obtain the second rank in nature, 
 it becomes us to be acquainted with, at least, 
 the names of them all. However, as there 
 
 a In Dr. Shaw's General Zoology, the number of quad- 
 rupeds, not including the cetaceous and seal tribes, amount 
 to five hundred and twelve, besides their varieties. 
 
 are naturalists who have gained a name from 
 the excellence of their methods in classing 
 these animals, some readers may desire to 
 have a knowledge of what has been laborious- 
 ly invented for their instruction. I will just 
 take leave, therefore, to mention the most ap- 
 plauded methods of classing animals, as adopt- 
 ed by Ray, Klein, and Linnaeus ; for it often 
 happens, that the terms which have been long 
 used in a science, though frivolous, become, 
 by prescription, a part of the science itself. 
 
 Ray, after Aristotle, divides all animals 
 into two kinds ; those which have blood, and 
 those which are bloodless. In the last class, 
 he places all the insect tribes. The former 
 he divides into such as breathe through the 
 lungs, and such as breathe through gills : 
 these last comprehend the fishes. In those 
 which breathe through the lungs, some have 
 the heart composed of two ventricles, and 
 some have it of one. Of the last are all ani- 
 malsof the cetaceous kind,all oviparous quad- 
 rupeds, and serpents. Of those that have two 
 ventricles, some are oviparous, which are the 
 birds ; and some viviparous, which are quad- 
 rupeds. The quadrupeds he divides into such 
 as have a hoof, and such as are claw-footed. 
 Those witli the hoof, he divides into such as 
 have it undivided, such as have it cloven, and 
 such as have the hoof divided into more parts, 
 as the rhinoceros, and hippopotamus. Ani- 
 mals with the cloven hoof, he divides into such 
 as chew the cud, as the cow, and the sheep; 
 and such as are not ruminant, as the hog. 
 He divides those animals that chew the cud, 
 into four kinds : the first have hollow horns, 
 which they never shed, as the cow ; the se- 
 cond is of a less species, and is of the sheep 
 kind; the third is of the goat kind; and the 
 last, which have solid horns, and shed them 
 annually, are of the deer kind. Coming to 
 the claw-footed animals, he finds some with 
 large claws, resembling the fingers of the hu- 
 man hand ; and these he makes the ape kind. 
 Of the others, some have the foot divided in 
 two, and have a claw to each division ; these 
 are the camel kind. The elephant makes a 
 kind by itself, as its claws are covered over 
 by a skin. The rest of the numerous tribe of 
 claw-footed animals he .livides into two kinds; 
 the analogous,or such as resemble each other; 
 and the anomalous, which differ from the rest. 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 201 
 
 The analogous claw-footed animals are of 
 two kinds ; (.hey have more than two cutting 
 teeth in each jaw, such as the lion and thedog, 
 which are carnivorous ; or they have but two 
 cutting teeth in each jaw, and these are chief- 
 ly fed upon vegetables. The carnivorous 
 kinds arc divided into the great and the lit- 
 tle. The great carnivorous animals are di- 
 vided into such as have a short snout, as the 
 cat and the lion ; and such as have it long 
 and pointed, as the dog and the, wolf. The 
 little claw-footed carnivorous animals differ 
 from the great, in having a proportionably 
 smaller head, and a slender body, that fits 
 them for creeping into holes, in pursuit of 
 their prey, like worms ; and they are there- 
 fore called the vermin kind. 
 
 We see, from this sketch of division and 
 subdivision, how a subject, extremely delight- 
 ful and amusing in itself, may be darkened 
 and rendered disgusting. But,notwithstanding, 
 Ray seems to be one of the most simple dis- 
 tributors; and his method is still, and not 
 without reason, adopted by many. Such as 
 have been at the trouble to learn this method, 
 will certainly find it useful ; nor would we be 
 thought, in the least, to take from its merits ; 
 all we contend for is, that the same infor- 
 mation may be obtained by a pleasanter and 
 an easier method. 
 
 It was the great success of Ray's method, 
 that soon after produced such a variety of 
 attempts in the same manner; but almost all 
 less simple, and more obscure. Mr. Klein's 
 method is briefly as follows : he makes the 
 power of changing place the characteristic 
 mark of animals in general ; and he takes their 
 distinctions from their aptitude and fitness for 
 such a change. Some change place by means 
 of feet, or some similar contrivance ; others 
 have wings and feet: some can change place 
 only in water, and have only fins : some go 
 upon earth, without any feet at all : some 
 change place, by moving their shell : and 
 some move only at a certain time of the year. 
 Of such, however, as do not move at all, he 
 takes no notice. The quadrupeds that move 
 chiefly by means of four feet upon land he di- 
 vi-lcs into two orders. The first are the hoof- 
 ed kind ; and the second, the claw kind. Each 
 of these orders is divided into four families. 
 The first family of the hoofed kind, are the 
 
 single hoofed, such as the horse, ass, &c. 
 The second family are such as have the hoof 
 cloven into two parts, such as the cow, &c. 
 The third family have the hoof divided into 
 three parts ; and in this family is found only 
 the rhinoceros. The fourth family have the 
 hoof divided into five parts ; and in this is 
 only to be found the elephant. With respect 
 to the clawed kind, the first family compre- 
 hends those that have but two claws on each 
 foot, as the camel ; the second family have 
 three claws ; the third, four ; and the fourth, 
 five. This method of taking the distinctions 
 of animals from the organs of motion, is inge- 
 nious ; but is, at the same time, incomplete ; 
 and, besides, the divisions into which it must 
 necessarily fall, is inadequate ; since, for in- 
 stance, in his family with two claws, there is 
 but one animal ; whereas, in his family with 
 five claws, there are above a hundred. 
 
 Brisson, who has laboured this subject 
 with great accuracy, divides animated nature 
 into nine classes; namely, quadrupeds; ceta- 
 ceous animals, or those of the whale kind ; 
 birds ; reptiles, or those of the serpent kind ; 
 cartilaginous fishes; spinous fishes; shelled 
 animals ; insects ; and worms. He divides 
 the quadrupeds into eighteen orders ; and 
 takes their distinctions from the number and 
 form of their teeth. 
 
 But of all those whose systems have been 
 adopted and admired, Linnaeus is the fore- 
 most; as, with a studied brevity, his system 
 comprehends the greatest variety in the small- 
 est space. 
 
 According to him, the first distinction of 
 animals is to be taken from their internal 
 structure. Some have the heart with two 
 ventricles, and hot red blood ; namely, quad- 
 rupeds and birds. The quadrupeds are vi- 
 viparous, and the birds oviparous. 
 
 Some have the heart with but one ventricle, 
 and cold red blood ; namely, amphibia and 
 fishes. The amphibia are furnished with 
 lungs ; the fishes with gills. 
 
 Some have the heart with one ventricle, 
 and cold white serum; namely, insects and 
 worms : the insects have feelers ; and the 
 worms, holders. 
 
 The distinctions of quadrupeds, or animals 
 with paps, as he calls them, are taken from 
 their teeth. He divides them into seven 
 
202 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 orders ; to which he gives names that are not 
 easy of translation: Primates, or principles, 
 with four cutting teeth in each jaw ; Bruta, or 
 brutes, with no cutting teeth; Ferce, or wild 
 beasts, with generally six cutting teeth in each 
 jaw; Glires, or dormice, with two cutting 
 teeth, both above and below; Pecora, or cat- 
 tle, with many cutting teeth above, and none 
 below; Belluae, or beasts, with the fore-teeth 
 blunt ; Cete, or those of the whale kind, with 
 cartilaginous teeth. I have but just sketched 
 out this system, as being, in its own nature, 
 the closest- abridgment: it would take vo- 
 lumes to dilate it to its proper length. The 
 names of the different animals, and their clas- 
 ses, alone make two thick octavo volumes; 
 and yet nothing is given but the slightest de- 
 scription of each. I have omitted all criticism 
 also upon the accuracy of the preceding sys- 
 tems : this has been done both by Buffon and 
 Daubenton, not with less truth than humour ; 
 for they had too much good sense not to see 
 the absurdity of multiplying the terms of sci- 
 ence to no end, and disappointing our curi- 
 osity rather with a catalogue of nature's va- 
 rieties, than a history of nature. 
 
 Instead, therefore, of taxing the memory 
 and teazing the patience with such a variety 
 of divisions and subdivisions, I will take leave 
 to class the productions of nature in the most 
 obvious, though not in the most accurate, 
 manner. In natural history, of all other sci- 
 ences, there is the least danger of obscurity. 
 In morals, or in metaphysics, every definition 
 must be precise, because those sciences are 
 built upon definitions; but it is otherwise in 
 those subjects where the exhibition of the 
 object itself is always capable of correcting 
 the error. Thus it may often happen, that 
 in a lax system of natural history, a creature 
 may be ranked among quadrupeds that be- 
 longs more properly to the fish or the insect 
 classes. But that can produce very little 
 confusion, and every reader can thus make 
 a system the most agreeable to his own ima- 
 gination. It will be of no manner of conse- 
 quence whether we call a bird or an insect 
 a quadruped, if we are careful in marking all 
 its distinctions : the uncertainty in reasoning, 
 or thinking, that these approximations of the 
 different kinds of animals produce, is bu' very 
 and happens but very rarely : whereas 
 
 the labour that naturalists have been at to 
 keep the kinds asu-ider, has been excessive. 
 This, in general. Ins given birth to th;it va- 
 riety of systems which we have just mention- 
 ed, each of which seems to be almost as 
 good as the preceding. 
 
 Taking, therefore, this htitude, and using 
 method only where it contributes to concise- 
 ness or perspicuity, we shall divide animated 
 nature into four classes; namely, Quadrupeds, 
 Birds, Fishes, and Insects. All these seem 
 in general pretty well distinguished from 
 each other by nature; yet there are several 
 instances in which we can scarcely tell 
 whether it is a bird or a quadruped that we 
 are about to examine; whether it is a fish or 
 an insect that offers to our curiosity. Nature 
 is varied by imperceptible gradations, so that 
 no line can be drawn between any two classes 
 of its productions, and no definition made to 
 comprehend them all. However, the dis- 
 tinctions between these classes are suffi- 
 ciently marked, and their encroachments 
 upon each other are so rare, that it will be 
 suificient particularly to apprize the reader 
 when they happen to be blended. 
 
 There are many quadrupeds that we are 
 well acquainted with ; and of those we do not 
 know, we shall form the most clear and dis- 
 tinct conceptions, by being told wherein they 
 differ, and wherein they resemble those with 
 which we are familiar. Each class of quad- 
 rupeds may be ranged under some one of the 
 domestic kinds, that may serve for the model 
 by which we are to form some kind of idea 
 of the rest. Thus we may say that a tiger is 
 of the cat kind, a wolf of the dog kind, because 
 there are some rude resemblances between 
 each ; and a person who has never seen the 
 wild animals, will have some incomplete know- 
 ledge of their figure from the tame ones. On 
 the contrary, I will not, as some systematic 
 writers have done," say that the bat is of the 
 human kind, or a hog of the horse kind, mere- 
 ly because there is some resemblance in their 
 teeth, or their paps. For although this resem- 
 blance may be striking enough, yet a person 
 who has never seen a bat or a hog, will never 
 form any just conception of either, by being 
 told of this minute similitude. In short, the 
 
 " Linnsei Svt. 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 203 
 
 method in classing quadrupeds should be ta- 
 ken from their most striking resemblances ; 
 and where these do not offer, we shall not 
 force the similitude, but leave the animal to 
 be described as a solitary species. The num- 
 ber of quadrupeds is so few, that indeed, with- 
 out any method whatever, there is no great 
 danger of confusion. 
 
 All quadrupeds, the number of which, ac- 
 cording to Buffbn, amounts to but two hun- 
 dred, may be classed in the following^ manner. 
 
 First, those of the Horse kind. This class 
 contains the Horse, the Ass, and the Zebra. 
 Of these none have horns, and their hoof is of 
 one solid piece. 
 
 The second class are those of the Cow kind; 
 comprehending the Urus, the Buffalo, the Bi- 
 son, and the Bonassus. These have cloven 
 hoofs, and chew the cud. 
 
 The third class is that of the Sheep kind ; 
 with cloven hoofs, and chewing the cud like 
 the former. In this is comprehended the 
 Sheep, the Goat, the Lama, the Vigogne, the 
 Gazella, the Guinea Deer, and all of a simi- 
 lar form. 
 
 The fourth class is that of the Deer kind, 
 with cloven hoofs, and with solid horns, that 
 are shed every year. This class contains the 
 Elk, the Rein-deer, the Stag, the Buck, the 
 Roe-buck, and the Axis. 
 
 The fifth class comprehends all those of 
 the Hog kind, the Peccari, and the Baby- 
 rouessa. 
 
 The sixth class is, that numerous one of the 
 Cat kind. This comprehends the Cat, the 
 Lion, the Panther, the Leopard, the Jaguar, 
 the Cougar, the Jaguarette, the Lynx, the 
 Ounce, and the Catamountain. These are 
 all carnivorous, and furnished with crooked 
 claws, which they can sheath and unsheath 
 at pleasure. 
 
 The seventh class is that of the Dog kind, 
 carnivorous, and furnished with claws like the 
 former, but which they cannot sheath. This 
 class comprehends the Dog, the Wolf, the Fox, 
 the Jackal, the Isatis, the Hyaena, the Ciret, 
 the Gibet, and the Genet. 
 
 The eighth class is that of the Weasel kind, 
 with a long small body, with five toes, or claws, 
 on each foot ; the first of them separated from 
 the rest like a thumb. This comprehends 
 the Weasel, the Martin, the Pole-cat, the Fer- 
 
 ret, the Mangoust, the Vansire, the Ermine, 
 with all the varieties of the American Mou- 
 fettes. 
 
 The ninth class is that of the Rabbit kind, 
 with two large cutting teeth in each jaw. 
 This comprehends the Rabbit, the Hare, the 
 Guinea-pig, all the various species of the 
 Squirrel, the Dormouse, the Marmotte, the 
 Rat, the Mouse, the Agouti, the Paca, the 
 Aperea, and the Tapeti. 
 
 The tenth class is that of the Hedge-hog 
 kind, with claw-feet, and covered with pric- 
 kles ; comprehending the Hedge-hog and the 
 Porcupine, the Couando and the Urson. 
 
 The eleventh class is that of the Tortoise 
 kind, covered with a shell, or scales. This 
 comprehends the Tortoise, the Pangolin, and 
 the Phataguin. 
 
 The twelfth is that of the Otter, or amphi- 
 bious kind ; comprehending the Otter, the 
 Beaver, the Desman, the Morse, and the Seal. 
 
 The thirteenth class is that of the Ape and 
 Monkey kinds, with hands, and feet resem- 
 bling hands. 
 
 The fourteenth class is that of winged quad- 
 rupeds, or the Bat kind ; containing the Bat, 
 the Flying Squirrel, and some other varieties. 
 
 The animals which seem to approach no 
 other kind, either in nature or in form, but to 
 make each a distinct species in itself, are the 
 following : the Elephant, the Rhinoceros, the 
 Hippopotamus, the Camelopard, the Camel, 
 the Bear, the Badger, the Tapir, the Cabrai, 
 the Coati, the Ant-bear, the Tatou, and, last- 
 ly, the Sloth. 
 
 All other quadrupeds, whose names are not 
 set down, will be found among some of the 
 above mentioned classes, and referred to that 
 which they most resemble. When, therefore, 
 we are at a loss to know the name of any par- 
 ticular animal, by examining which of the 
 known kinds it most resembles, either in 
 shape, or in hoofs, or claws, and then exami- 
 ning the particular description, we shall be 
 able to discover not only its name, but its his- 
 tory. I have already said, that all methods 
 of this kind are merely arbitrary, and that 
 Nature makes no exact distinction between 
 her productions. It is hard, for instance, to 
 ; tell whether we ought to refer the civet to the 
 dog or the cat kind; but, if we know the ex- 
 I act history of the civet, it is no great matter 
 
 2N 
 
204 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 to which kind we shall judge it to bear the 
 greatest resemblance. It is enough, that a 
 distribution of this kind excites in us some 
 rude outlines of the make, or some marked si- 
 militudes in the nature of these animals ; but 
 to know them with any precision, no system, 
 or even description, will serve, since the ani- 
 mal itself, or a good print of it, must be seen, 
 and its history be read at length, before it 
 can be said to be known. To pretend to say 
 that we have an idea of a quadruped, because 
 we can tell the number or the make of its 
 teeth, or its paps, is as absurd as if we should 
 pretend to distinguish men by the buttons of 
 their clothes. Indeed it often happens that 
 the quadruped itself can be but seldom seen ; 
 that many of the more rare kinds do not come 
 into Europe above once in an age, and some 
 of them have never been able to bear the re- 
 moval : in such a case, therefore, there is no 
 other substitute but a good print of the ani- 
 mal, to give an idea of its figure : for no de- 
 scription whatsoever can answer this purpose 
 so well. Mr. Locke, with his usual good sense, 
 has observed, that a drawing of the animal, 
 taken from the life, is one of the best me- 
 thods of advancing natural history; and yet, 
 most of our modern systematic writers are 
 content rather with describing. Descriptions, 
 no doubt, will go some way towards giving an 
 idea of the figure of an animal ; but they are 
 certainly much the longest way about, and, 
 as they are usually managed, much the most 
 obscure. In a drawing we can, at a single 
 
 glance, gather more instruction than by a 
 day's painful investigation of methodical sys- 
 tems, where we are told the proportions with 
 great exactness, and yet remain ignorant of 
 the totality. In fact, this method of describing 
 all things is a fault that has infected many of 
 our books, that treat on the meaner arts, for 
 this last age. They attempt to teach by 
 words, what is only to be learnt by practice 
 and inspection. Most of our dictionaries, and 
 bodies of arts and sciences, are guilty of this 
 error. Suppose, for instance, it be requisite 
 to mention the mariner of making shoes, it is 
 plain that all the verbal instructions in the 
 world will never give an adequate idea of this 
 humble art, or teach a man to become a shoe- 
 maker. A day or two in a shoemaker's shop 
 will answer the end better than a whole fo- 
 lio of instruction, which only serves to oppress 
 the learner with the weight of its pretended 
 importance. We have lately seen a laborious 
 work carried on at Paris, with this only intent, 
 of teaching all the trades by description : 
 however, the design at first blush seems to be 
 ill considered ; and it is probable that very 
 few advantages will be derived from so labo- 
 rious an undertaking. With regard to the 
 descriptions in natural history, these, without 
 all question, under the direction of good sense, 
 are necessary; but still they should be kept 
 within proper bounds ; and, whore a thing 
 may be much more easily shown than describ- 
 ed, the exhibition should ever precede the 
 account. 
 
 ee 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 OF QUADRUPEDS IN GENERAL, COMPARED TO MAN 
 
 UPON comparing the various animals of 
 *,he globe with each other, we shall find that 
 quadrupeds demand the rank immediately 
 next ourselves ; and, consequently, come first 
 in consideration. The similitude between 
 the structure of their bodies and ours, those 
 instincts which they enjoy in a superior de- 
 gree to the rest, their constant services, or 
 their unceasing hostilities, all render them 
 
 the foremost objects of our curiosity, the most 
 interesting parts of animated nature. These, 
 however, although now so completely sub- 
 dued, very probably, in the beginning, were 
 nearer upon an equality with us, and disputed 
 the possession of the earth. Man, while yet 
 savage himself, was but ill qualified to civilize 
 the forest. While yet naked, unarmed, and 
 without shelter, every wild beast was a for- 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 205 
 
 midable rival; and the destruction of such 
 was the first employment of heroes. But 
 when he began to multiply, and arts to accu- 
 mulate, he soon cleared the plains of the most 
 noxious of these his rivals; a part was taken 
 under his protection and care, while the rest 
 found a precarious refuge in the burning de- 
 sert, or the howling wilderness. 
 
 From being rivals, quadrupeds have now 
 become the assistants of man; upon them he 
 devolves the most laborious employments, 
 and finds in them patient and humble coad- 
 jutors, ready to obey, and content witu the 
 smallest retribution. It was not, however, 
 without long and repeated efforts that the 
 independent spirit of these animals was 
 broken ; for the savage freedom, in wild ani- 
 mals, is generally found to pass down through 
 several generations before it is totally sub- 
 dued. Those cats and dogs that are taken 
 from a state of natural wildness in the forest, 
 still transmit their fierceness to their young; 
 and, however concealed in general, it breaks 
 out upon several occasions. Thus the assi- 
 duity and application of man in bringii.g them 
 up, not only alters their disposition, but their 
 very forms; and the difference between ani- 
 mals in a state of nature and domestic tame- 
 ness, is so considerable, that Mr. Buffbn has 
 taken this as a principal distinction in class- 
 ing them. 
 
 In taking a cursory view of the form of 
 quadrupeds, we may easily perceive, that of 
 all the ranks of animated nature, they bear 
 the nearest resemblance to man. This simi- 
 litude will be found more striking when, 
 erecting themselves on their hinder feet, they 
 are taught to walk forward in an upright 
 posture. We then see that all their extremi- 
 ties in a manner correspond with ours, and 
 present us with a rude imitation of our own. 
 In some of the ape kind the resemblance is so 
 striking, that anatomists are puzzled to find 
 in what part of the human body man's supe- 
 riority consists; and scarcely any but the 
 metaphysician can draw the line that divides 
 them. 
 
 But if we compare their internal structure 
 with our own, the likeness will be found still 
 to increase, and we shall perceive many ad- 
 vantages they enjoy in common with us, above 
 the lower tribes of nature. Like us, they are 
 
 placed above the class of birds, by bringing 
 forth their young alive ; like us, they are pla- 
 ced above the class of fishes, by breathing 
 through the lungs; like us, they are placed 
 above the class of insects, by having red blood 
 circulating through their veins; and, lastly, 
 like us, they are different from almost all the 
 other classes of animated nature, being either 
 wholly or partly covered with hair. Thus 
 nearly are we represented, in point of confor- 
 mation, to the class of animals immediately 
 below us ; and this shows w hat little reason 
 we have to be proud of our persons alone, 
 to the perfection of which quadrupeds make 
 such very near approaches. 
 
 The similitude of quadrupeds to man ob- 
 tains also in the fixedness of their nature, and 
 their being less apt to be changed by the in- 
 fluence of climate or food, than the lower ranks 
 of nature. 3 Birds are found very apt to alter 
 both in colour and size ; fishes likewise still 
 more ; insects may be quickly brought to 
 change and adapt themselves to the climate ; 
 and if we descend to plants, which may be al- 
 lowed to have a kind of living existence, their 
 kinds may be surprisingly and readily alter- 
 ed, and taught to assume new forms. The 
 figure of every animal may be considered as 
 a kind of drapery, which it may be made to 
 put on or off by human assiduity : in man, 
 the drapery is almost invariable ; in quadru- 
 peds, it admits of some variation ; and the 
 variety may be made greater still, as we de- 
 scend to the inferior classes of animal exist- 
 ence. 
 
 Quadrupeds, although they are thus strong- 
 ly marked, and in general divided from the 
 various kinds around them, yet some of them 
 are often of so equivocal a nature, that it is 
 hard to tell whether they ought to be ranked 
 in the quadruped class, or degraded to those 
 below (hern. If, for instance, we were to 
 marshal the whole group of animals round 
 man, placing the most perfect next him, and 
 those most equivocal near the classes they 
 most approach, we should find it difficult, after 
 the principal had taken their stations near 
 him, where to place many that lie at the out- 
 skirts of this phalanx. The bat makes a near 
 approach to the aerial tribe, and might, by 
 
 " Buflbn, vol. xviii. p. 179. 
 
 2N 
 
206 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 some, be reckoned among the birds. The 
 porcupine has not less protrusions to that class, 
 being covered with quills, and showing that 
 birds are not the only part of nature that are 
 furnished with such a defence. The armadillo 
 might be referred to the tribe of insects or 
 snails, being, like them, covered with a shell ; 
 the seal and the morse might be ranked among 
 the fishes, like them being furnished with fins, 
 and almost constantly residing in the same ele- 
 ment. All these, the farther th^y recede from 
 the human figure, become less perfect, and 
 may be considered as the lowest kinds of that 
 class to which we have referred them. 
 
 But although the variety in quadrupeds is 
 thus great, they all seem well adapted to the 
 stations in which they are placed. There is 
 scarcely one of them, how rudely shaped so- 
 ever, that is not formed to enjoy a state of hap- 
 piness fitted to its nature. All its deformities 
 are only relative to us, but all its enjoyments 
 are peculiarly its own. We may superficially 
 suppose the sloth, that takes up months in 
 climbing a single tree, or the mole, whose 
 eyes are too small for distant vision, are 
 wretched and helpless creatures : but it is pro- 
 bable that their life, with respect to themselves, 
 is a life of luxury ; the most pleasing food is 
 easily obtained ; and as they are abridged in 
 one pleasure, it may be doubled in those which 
 remain. Quadrupeds, and all the lower kinds 
 of animals, have, at worst, but the torments 
 of immediate evil to encounter, and this is but 
 transient and accidental : man has two sources 
 of calamity, that which he foresees, as well as 
 that which he feels ; so that, if his reward 
 were to be in this life alone, then, indeed, 
 would he be, of all beings, the most wretched. 
 
 The heads of quadrupeds, though differing 
 from each other, are, in general, adapted to 
 their way of living. In some it is sharp, the 
 better to fit the animal for turning up the earth 
 in which its food lies. In some it is long, in 
 orfter to give a greater room for the olfactory 
 nerves, as in dogs, who are to hunt and find 
 out their prey by the scent. In others it is 
 short and thick, as in the lion, to increase the 
 strength of the jaw, and to fit it the better for 
 combat. In quadrupeds that feed upon grass, 
 they are enabled to hold down their heads to 
 the ground, by a strong tendinous ligament, 
 that runs from the head to the middle of the 
 back. This serves to raise the head, although 
 
 it has been held to the ground for several 
 hours, without any labour, or any assistance 
 from the muscles of the neck. 
 
 The teeth of all animals are entirely fitted 
 to the nature of their food. Those of such as 
 live upon flesh differ in every respect from 
 such as live upon vegetables. la the latter 
 they seem entirely made for gathering and 
 bruising their simple food, being edged before, 
 and fitted for cutting ; but broad towards the 
 back of the jaw, and fitted for pounding. In 
 the carnivorous kinds, they are sharp before, 
 and fitted rather for holding than dividing. 
 In the one, the teeth serve as grindstones; in 
 the other, as weapons of defence : in both, 
 however, the surface of those teeth which serve 
 for grinding are unequal ; the cavities and 
 risings fitting those of the opposite, so as to 
 tally exactly when the jaws are brought to- 
 gether. These inequalities better serve for 
 comminuting the food ; but they become 
 smooth with age; and, for this reason, old 
 animals take a longer time to chew their food 
 than such as are in the vigour of life. 
 
 Their legs are not better fitted than their 
 teeth to their respective wants or enjoyments. 
 In some they are made for strength only, and 
 to support a vast unwieldly frame, without 
 much flexibility or beautiful proportion. Thus 
 the legs of the elephant, the rhinoceros, and 
 the sea-horse, resemble pillars: were they 
 made smaller, they would be unfit to support 
 the body ; were they endowed with greater 
 flexibility, or swiftness, that would be needless, 
 as they do not pursue other animals for food ; 
 and, conscious of their own superior strength, 
 there are none that they deiun to a void. Deers, 
 hares, and other creatures, that are to find safe- 
 ty only in flight, have their legs made entirely 
 for speed ; they are slender and nervous. Were 
 it not for this advantage, every carnivorous ani- 
 mal would soon make them a prey, and their 
 races would be entirely extinguished. But, 
 i in the present state of nature, the means of 
 safety are rather superior to those of offence ; 
 I and the pursuing animal mu.-i i> \ e success only 
 i to patience, perseverance, and industry. The 
 feet of some, that live upon lish alone, are 
 made for swimming. Tlu- ! s of these ani- 
 mals are joined together \\iih membranes, 
 being web-footed like a goose or a duck, by 
 which they swim with great rar.idjty. Those 
 animals that lead a life of hostility, and live 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 207 
 
 upon others, have their feet armed with sharp 
 claws, which some can sheath and unsheath 
 at will. Those, on the contrary, who lead 
 peaceful lives, have generally hoofs, which 
 serve some as weapons of defence; and which, 
 in all, are better fitted for traversing extensive 
 tracts of rugged country than the claw-foot 
 of their pursuers. 
 
 The stomach is generally proportioned to 
 the quality -of the animal's food, or the ease 
 with which it is obtained. In those that live 
 upon flesh, and such nourishing substances, 
 it is small and glandular, affording such juices 
 as are best adapted to digest its contents; 
 their intestines also are short, and without 
 fatness. On the contrary, such animals as 
 feed entirely upon vegetables, have the sto- 
 mach very large ; and those who chew the 
 cud have no less than four stomachs, all which 
 serve as so many laboratories, to prepare and 
 turn their coarse food into proper nourish- 
 ment. In Africa, where the plants afford 
 greater nourishment than in our temperate 
 climates, several animals, that with us have 
 four stomachs, have there but two." How- 
 ever, in all animals the size of the intestines 
 is proportioned to the nature of the food : 
 where that is furnished in large quantities, 
 the stomach dilates to answer the increase. 
 In domestic animals, that are plentifully sup- 
 plied, it is large ; in the wild animals, that 
 live precariously, it is much more contracted, 
 and the intestines are much shorter. 
 
 In this manner, all animals are fitted by na- 
 ture to fill up some peculiar station. The 
 Mtest animals are made for an inoffensive 
 life, to range the plains and the forest without 
 injuring others; to live upon the productions 
 of the earth, the grass of the field, or the ten- 
 df-i branches of trees. These, secure in their 
 own strength, neither fly from any other quad- 
 rupeds, nor yet attack them : Nature, to the 
 greatest strength, has added the most gentle 
 and harmless dispositions : without this, those 
 enormous creatures would be more than a 
 match for all the rest of the creation; for 
 what devastation might not ensue, were the 
 elephant, or the rhinoceros, or the buffalo, as 
 fierce -and as mischievous as the tiger or the 
 rat ? In order to oppose these larger animals, 
 
 Bufion. 
 
 and in some measure to prevent their exuber- 
 ance, there is a species of the carnivorous 
 kind, of inferior strength indeed, but of greater 
 activity and cunning. The lion and the tiger 
 generally watch for the larger kinds of prey, 
 attack them at some disadvantage, and com- 
 monly jump upon them by surprise. None 
 of the carnivorous kinds, except the dog alone, 
 will make a voluntary attack, but with the odds 
 on their side. They are all cowards by na- 
 ture, and usually catch their prey by a bound 
 from some lurking-place, seldom attempting 
 to invade them openly; for the larger beasts 
 are too powerful for them, and the smallei 
 too swift. 
 
 A lion does not willingly attack a horse ; 
 and then only when compelled by the keen- 
 est hunger. The combats between a lion 
 and a horse are frequent enough in Italy ; 
 where they are both enclosed in a kind of 
 amphitheatre, fitted for that purpose. The 
 lion always approaches wheeling about, while 
 the horse presents his hinder parts to the ene- 
 my. The lion in this manner goes round and 
 round, still narrowing his circle, till he comes 
 to the proper distance to make his spring; 
 just at the time the lion springs, the horse 
 lashes with both legs from behind, and, in ge- 
 neral, the odds are in his favour ; it more often 
 happening that the lion is stunned, and struck 
 motionless by the blow, than that he effects 
 his jump between the horse's shoulders. If 
 the lion is stunned, and left sprawling, the 
 horse escapes, without attempting to improve 
 his victory ; but if the lion succeeds, he sticks 
 to his prey, and tears the horse in pieces in 
 a very short time. 
 
 But it is not among the larger animals of 
 the forest alone, that these hostilities are car- 
 ried on ; there is a minuter, and a still more 
 treacherous contest, between the lower ranks 
 of quadrupeds. The panther hunts for the 
 sheep and the goat ; the catamountain for the 
 hare or the rabbit; and the wild cat for the 
 squirrel or the mouse. In proportion as each 
 carnivorous animal wants strength, it uses all 
 the assistance of patience, assiduity, and cun- 
 ning. However, the arts of these to pursue, 
 are not so great as the tricks of their prey to 
 escape; so that the power of destruction in 
 one class, is inferior to the power of safety 
 in the other. Were this otherwise, the forest 
 
208 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 would soon be dispeopled of the feebler races 
 of animals; and beasts of prey themselves 
 would want, at one time, that subsistence 
 which they lavishly destroyed at another. 
 
 Few wild animals seek their prey in the 
 day-time ; they are then generally deterred 
 by their fears of man in the inhabited coun- 
 tries, and by the excessive heat of the sun 
 in those extensive forests that lie towards 
 the south, and in which they reign the un- 
 disputed tyrants. As soon as the morning, 
 therefore, appears, the carnivorous animals 
 retire to their dens ; and the elephant, the 
 horse, the deer, and all the hare kinds, those 
 inoffensive tenants of the plain, make their 
 appearance. But again, at night-fall, the 
 state of hostility begins ; the whole forest then 
 echoes to a variety of different bowlings. 
 Nothing can be more terrible than an African 
 landscape at the close of evening; the deep- 
 toned roarings of the lion ; the shriller yell- 
 ings of the tiger; the jackal, pursuing by the 
 scent, and barking like a dog; the hypena, 
 with a note peculiarly solitary and dreadful ; 
 but, above all, the hissing of the various kinds 
 of serpents, that then begin their call, and, 
 as I am assured, make a much louder sympho- 
 ny than the birds in our groves in a morning. 
 
 Beasts of prey seldom devour each other ; 
 nor can any thing but the greatest degree of 
 hunger induce them to it. What they chiefly 
 seek after, is the deer, or the goat ; those 
 harmless creatures, that seem made to em- 
 bellish nature. These are either pursued or 
 surprised, and afford the most agreeable re- 
 past to their destroyers. The most usual 
 method with even the fiercest animals, is to 
 hide and crouch near some path frequented 
 by their prey ; or some water where cattle 
 come to drink; and seize them at once with 
 a bound. The lion and the tiger leap twenty 
 feet at a spring ; and this, rather than their 
 swiftness or strength, is what they have most 
 to depend upon for a supply. There is 
 scarcely one of the deer or hare kind, that is 
 not very easily capable of escaping them by its 
 swiftness ; so that whenever any of these fall 
 a prey, it must be owing to their own inatten- 
 tion. 
 
 But there is another class of the carnivo- 
 rous kind, that hunt by the scent, and which 
 it is much more difficult to escape. It is re- 
 
 markable, that all animals of this kind pur- 
 sue in a pack; and encourage each other by 
 their mutual cries. The jackal, the syagush, 
 the wolf, and the dog, are of this kind ; they 
 pursue with patience rather than swiftness ; 
 their prey flies first, and leaves them for miles 
 behind ; but they keep on with a constant 
 steady pace, and excite each other by a gene- 
 ral spirit of industry and emulation, till at last 
 they share the common plunder. But it too 
 often happens, that the larger beasts of prey, 
 when they hear a cry of this kind begun, pur- 
 sue the pack, and when they have hunted 
 down the animal, come in and monopolize 
 the spoil. This has given rise to the report 
 of the jackal's being the lion's provider ; when 
 the reality is, that the jackal hunts for itself, 
 and the lion is an unwelcome intruder upon 
 the fruit of his toil. 
 
 Nevertheless, with all the powers which 
 carnivorous animals are possessed of, they 
 generally lead a life of famine and fatigue. 
 Their prey has such a variety of methods for 
 escaping, that they sometimes continue with- 
 out food for a fortnight together : but nature 
 has endowed them with a degree of patience 
 equal to the severity of their state; so that 
 as their subsistence is precarious, their ap- 
 petites are complying. They usually seize 
 their prey with a roar, either of seeming de- 
 light, or perhaps to terrify it from resistance. 
 They frequently devour it, bones and all, in 
 the most ravenous manner ; and then retire 
 to their dens, continuing inactive, till the calls 
 of hunger again excite their courage and in- 
 dustry. But as all their methods of pursuit 
 are counteracted by the arts of evasion, they 
 often continue to range without success, sup- 
 porting a state of famine for several days, nay, 
 sometimes, weeks together. Of their prey, 
 some find protection in holes, in which na- 
 ture has directed them to bury themselves ; 
 some find safety by swiftness ; and such as 
 are possessed of neither of these advantages, 
 generally herd together, and endeavour to 
 repel invasion by united force. The very 
 sheep, which to us seem so defenceless, are 
 by no means so in a state of nature ; they are 
 furnished with arms of defence, and a very 
 great degree of swiftness; but they are still 
 further assisted by their spirit of mutual de- 
 fence : the females fall into the centre ; and 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 209 
 
 the males, forming a ring round them, oppose 
 their horns to the assailants. 
 
 v Some animals, that feed upon fruits which 
 are to be found only at one time of the year, 
 fill their holes with several sorts of plants, 
 which enable them to lie concealed during the 
 hard frosts of the winter, contented with their 
 prison, since it affords them plenty and pro- 
 tection. These holes are dug with so much 
 art, that there seems the design of an architect 
 in the formation. There are usually two aper- 
 tures, by one of which the little inhabitant can 
 always escape, when the enemy is in possession 
 of the other. Many creatures are equally 
 careful of avoiding their enemies, by placing 
 a centinel to w ; arn them of the approach of j 
 danger. These generally perform this duty 
 by turns ; and they know how to punish such 
 as have neglected their post, or have been un- 
 mindful of the common safety. Such are a 
 part of the efforts that the weaker races of 
 quadrupeds exert to avoid their invaders; and, 
 in general, they are attended with success. 
 The arts of instinct are most commonly found 
 an overmatch for the invasions of instinct. 
 Man is the only creature against whom all 
 their little tricks cannot prevail. Wherever he 
 has spread his dominion, scarcely any flight 
 can save, or any retreat harbour ; wherever he 
 comes, terror seems to follow, and all society 
 ceases among the inferior tenants of the plain ; 
 their union against him can yield them no 
 protection, and their cunning is but weakness. 
 In their fellow-brutes, they have an enemy 
 whom they can oppose with an equality of 
 advantage; they can oppose fraud or swift- 
 ness to force, or numbers to invasion ; but 
 what can be done against such an enemy as 
 man, who finds them out though unseen ; and 
 though remote, destroys them ? Wherever he 
 comes, all the contest among the meaner ranks 
 seem to be at an end, or is carried on only by 
 surprise. Such as he has thought proper to 
 protect, have calmly submitted to his protec- 
 tion ; such as he has found it convenient to 
 destroy, carry on an unequal war, and their 
 numbers are every day decreasing. 
 
 The wild animal is subject to few altera- 
 tions ; and, in a state of savage nature, con- 
 tinues for ages the same, in size, shape, and 
 colour. But it is otherwise when subdued, 
 and taken under the protection of man ; its 
 external form, and even its internal structure, 
 
 are altered by human assiduity : and this is 
 one of the first and greatest causes of the va- 
 riety that we see among the several quadru- 
 peds of the same species. Man appears to 
 have changed the very nature of domestic ani- 
 mals, by cultivation and care. A domestic 
 animal is a slave that seems to have few other 
 desires but such as man is willing to allow it. 
 Humble, patient, resigned, and attentive, it 
 fills up the duties of its station ; ready for la- 
 bour, and content with subsistence. 
 
 Almost all domestic animals seem to bear 
 the marks of servitude strong upon them. All 
 the varieties in their colour, all the fineness 
 and length of their hair, together with the de- 
 pending length of their ears, seem to have 
 arisen from a long continuance of domestic 
 slavery. What an immense variety is there 
 to be found in the ordinary race of dogs and 
 horses! the principal differences of which have 
 been effected by the industry of man, so adapt- 
 ing the food, the treatment, the labour, and 
 the climate, that Nature seems almost to have 
 forgotten her original design ; and the tame 
 animal no longer bears any resemblance to its 
 ancestors in the woods around him. 
 
 In this manner, nature is under a kind of 
 constraint, in those animals we have taught to 
 live in a state of servitude near us. The 
 savage animals preserve the marks of their 
 first formation; their colours are generally the 
 same ; a rough dusky brown, or a tawny, seem 
 almost their only varieties. But it is other- 
 wise in the tame ; their colours arc various, 
 and their forms different from each other. The 
 nature of the climate indeed operates upon all; 
 but more particularly on these. That nourish- 
 ment which is prepared by the hand of man, 
 not adapted to their appetites, but to suit his 
 own convenience ; that climate, the rigours of 
 which he can soften; and that employment to 
 which they are sometimes assigned ; produce 
 a number of distinctions that are not to be 
 found among the savage animals. These, at 
 first, were accidental, but in time became here- 
 ditary ; and a new race of artificial monsters 
 are propagated, rather to answer the purposes 
 of human pleasure than their own convenience. 
 In short, their very appetites may be changed; 
 and those that feed only upon grass may be 
 rendered carnivorous. I have seen a sheep 
 that would eat flesh, and a horse that was 
 fond of ovsters. 
 
210 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 But not their appetites, or their figure alone, 
 but their very dispositions, and their natural 
 sagacity, are altered by the vicinity of man. 
 In those countries where men have seldom in- 
 truded, some animals have been found, estab- 
 lished in a kind of civil state of society. Re- 
 mote from the tyranny of man, they seem to 
 have a spirit of mutual benevolence, and mu- 
 tual friendship. The beavers, in those distant 
 solitudes, are known to build like architects, 
 and rule like citizens. The habitations that 
 these have been seen to erect, exceed the 
 houses of the human inhabitants of the same 
 country, both in neatness and convenience. 
 But as soon as man intrudes upon their society, 
 they seem impressed with the terrors of their 
 inferior situation, their spirit of society ceases, 
 the bond is dissolved, and every animal looks 
 for safety in solitude, and there tries all its 
 little industry to shift only for itself. 
 
 Next to human influence, the climate seems 
 to have the strongest effects both upon the 
 nature and the form of quadrupeds. As in 
 man we have seen some alterations produced 
 by the variety of his situation ; so in the lower 
 ranks, that are more subject to variation, the 
 influence of climate is more readily perceived. 
 As these are more nearly attached to the earth, 
 and in a manner connected to the soil ; as 
 they have none of the arts of shielding off the 
 inclemency of the weather, or softening the 
 rigours of the sun, they are consequently more 
 changed by its variations. In general it may 
 be remarked, that the colder the country, the 
 larger and the warmer is the fur of each ani- 
 mal ; it being wisely provided by Nature, 
 that the inhabitant should be adapted to the 
 rigours of its situation. Thus the fox and 
 wolf, which in temperate climates have but 
 short hair, have a fine long fur in the frozen 
 regions near the pole. On the contrary, those 
 dogs which with us have long hair, when car- 
 ried to Guinea or Angola, in a short time cast 
 their thick covering, and assume a lighter dress, 
 and one more adapted to the warmth of the 
 country. The beaver, and the ermine, which 
 are found in the greatest plenty in the cold re- 
 gions, are remarkable for the warmth and 
 delicacy of their furs ; while the elephant, and 
 the rhinoceros, that are natives of the line, have 
 scarcely any hair. Not but that human in- 
 dustry can, in some measure, co-operate with, 
 or repress, the effects of climate in this par- 
 
 ticular. It is well known what alterations are 
 produced by prop< r eai , in the sheep's fleece, 
 in different parts of our own country ; and the 
 same industry is pursued with alike success in 
 Syria, where many of their animals are cloth- 
 ed with a long and beautiful hair, which they 
 take care to improve, as they work it into that 
 stuff call'-d camblet, so well known in different 
 parts of Europe. 
 
 The disposition of the animal seems also not 
 less marked by the climate than the figure. 
 The same causes that seem to have rendered 
 the human inhabitants of the rigorous climates 
 savage and ignorant, have also operated upon 
 their animals. Both at the line and the pole, 
 the wild quadrupeds are fierce and untame- 
 able. In these latitudes, their savage disposi- 
 tions having not been quelled by any efforts 
 from man, and being still farther stimulated by 
 the severity of the weather, they continue 
 fierce and uutrnetable. Most of the attempts 
 which have hitherto been made to tame the 
 wild beasts brought home from the pole or the 
 equator, have proved ineffectual. They are 
 gentle and harmless enough while young; hut 
 as they grow up, they acquire their natural 
 ferocity, and snap at the hand that feeds them. 
 It may indeed, in general, be asserted, that in 
 all countries where the men are most barba- 
 rous, the beasts are most fierce and cruel : and 
 this is but a natural consequence of the strug- 
 gle between man and the more savage animals 
 of the forest; for in proportion as he is weak 
 and timid, they must be bold and intrusive; 
 in proportion as his dominion is but feebly 
 supported, their rapacity must be more ob- 
 noxious. In the extensive countries, therefore, 
 lying round the pole, or beneath the line, the 
 quadrupeds are fierce and formidable. Africa 
 has ever been remarked for the brutality of its 
 men, and the fierceness of its animals : its lions 
 and its leopards are not less terrible than its 
 crocodiles and its serpents ; their dispositions 
 seem entirely marked with the rigours of the 
 climate, and being hred in an extreme of heat, 
 they show a peculiar f rocity, that neither the 
 force of man can conquer, nor his arts allay. 
 However, it is happy for the wretched inhabi- 
 tants of those climates, that its most formidable 
 animals are all solitary ones ; that they have 
 not learnt the art of uniting, to oppress man- 
 kind ; but each depending on its own strength, 
 invades without any assistant. 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 211 
 
 The food also is another cause of the va- 
 riety which \ve rind among quadrupeds of the 
 same kind. Thus the beasts which feed in 
 the valley are generally larger than those 
 which glean a scanty subsistence on the moun- 
 tain. Such as live in the warm climates, where 
 the plants are much larger and moresucculcnt 
 than with us, are equally remarkable for their 
 bulk. The ox fed in the plains of Indostan, 
 is much larger than that which is more hardi- 
 ly maintained on the side of the Alps. The 
 deserts of Africa, where the plants areextreme- 
 ly nourishing, produce the largest and fiercest 
 animals ; and, perhaps for a contrary reason, 
 America is found not to produce such large 
 animals as are seen in the ancient continent. 
 But, whatever be the reason, the fact is certain, 
 that while America exceeds us in the sixe of 
 its reptiles of all kinds, it is far inferior in its 
 
 auadruped productions. Thus, for instance, 
 le largest animal of that country is the tapir, 
 which can by no means be compared to the 
 elephant of Africa. Its beasts of prey, also, 
 are divested of that strength and courage 
 which is so dangerous in this part of the world. 
 The American lion, tiger, and leopard, if such 
 diminutive creatures deserve these names, are 
 neither so fierce nor so valiant as those of 
 Africa and Asia. The tiger of Bengal has been 
 seen to measure twelve feet in length, without 
 including the tail: whereas the American ti- 
 ger seldom exceeds three. This difference 
 obtains still more in the other animals of that 
 country, so that some have been of opinion" 
 that all quadrupeds in Southern America are 
 of a different species from those most resem- 
 bling them in the old world ; and that there 
 are none which are common to both, but such 
 as have entered America by the north ; and 
 which, being able to bear the rigours of the 
 frozen pole, have travelled from the ancient 
 continent, by that passage, into the new. 
 Thus the bear, the wolf, the elk, the stag, 
 the fox, and the beaver, are known to the in- 
 habitants as well of North America as of 
 Russia ; while most of the various kinds to 
 the southward, in both continents, bear no re- 
 semblance to each other. Upon the whole, 
 such as peculiarly belong to the new conti- 
 nent are w ithout any marks of the quadruped 
 
 a Buffon. 
 NO. 19 & 20. 
 
 perfection. They are almost wholly destitute 
 of the power of defence ; they have neither 
 formidable teeth, horns, or tail; their figure 
 is awkward, and their limbs ill proportioned. 
 Some among them, such as the ant-bear and 
 the sloth, appear so miserably formed, as 
 scarcely to have the power of moving and 
 eating. They, seemingly, drag out a misera- 
 ble and languid existence in the most desert, 
 solitude; and would quickly have been de- 
 stroyed in a country where there were inha- 
 bitants, or powerful beasts to oppose them. 
 
 But if the quadrupeds of the new continent 
 be less, they arc found in much greater abun- 
 dance; for it is a rule that obtains through 
 nature, that the smallest animals multiply the 
 fastest. The goat, imported from Europe to 
 South America, soon begins to degenerate ; 
 but as it grows less it becomes more prolific ; 
 and, instead of one kid at a time, or two at 
 the most, it generally produces live, and some- 
 times more. What there is in the food, or 
 the climate, that produces this change, we 
 have not been able to learn; we might be 
 apt to ascribe it to the heat, but that on the 
 African coast, where it is still hotter, this rule 
 does not obtain ; for the goat, instead of de- 
 generating there, seems rather to improve. 
 
 However, the rule is general among all 
 quadrupeds, that those which are large and 
 formidable produce but few at a time ; while 
 such as are mean and contemptible are ex- 
 tremely prolific. The lion, or tiger, have sel- 
 dom above two cubs at a litter; while the cat, 
 that is of a similar nature, is usually seen to 
 have five or six. In this manner, the lower 
 tribes become extremely numerous : and, but 
 for this surprising fecundity, from their natu- 
 ral weakness they would quickly be extir- 
 pated. The breed of mice, for instance, would 
 have long since been blotted from the earth, 
 were the mouse as slow in production as the 
 elephant. But it has been wisely provided, 
 that such animals as can make but little re- 
 sistance, should at least have a means ef re- 
 pairing the destruction, which they must of- 
 ten suffer, by their quick reproduction; that 
 they should increase even among enemies, 
 and multiply under tbe hand of the destroyer. 
 On the other hand, if has as wisely been or- 
 dered by Providence, that the larger kinds 
 should produce but slowly; otherwise, as they 
 2O 
 
212 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 require proportional supplies from nature, 
 they would quickly consume their own store; 
 and, of consequence, many of them would 
 soon perish through want; so that life would 
 thus be given without the necessary means of 
 subsistence. In a word, Providence has most 
 wisely balanced the strength of the great 
 against the weakness of the little. Since it 
 was necessary that some should be great and 
 others mean, since it was expedient that some 
 should live upon others, it has assisted the 
 weakness of one by granting it fruit fulness; 
 and diminished the number of the other by 
 infecundity. 
 
 In consequence of this provision, the larger 
 creatures, which bring forth few at a time, 
 seldom begin to generate till they have near- 
 ly acquired their full growth. On the contra- 
 ry, those which bring many, reproduce before 
 they have arrived at their natural size. Thus 
 the horse and the bull are nearly at their best 
 before they begin to breed ; the hog and the 
 rabbit scarcely leave the teat before they be- 
 come parents in turn. Almost all animals 
 likewise continue the time of their pregnan- 
 cy in proportion to their size. The mare con- 
 tinues eleven months with foal, the cow nine, 
 the wolf five, and the bitch nine weeks. In 
 all, the intermediate litters are the most fruit- 
 ful ; the first and the last generally producing 
 the fewest in number, and the worst of the 
 kind. 
 
 Whatever be the natural disposition of ani- 
 mals at other times, they all acquire new cou- 
 rage when they consider themselves as defend- 
 ing their young. No terrors can then drive 
 them from the post of duty ; the mildest begin 
 to exert their little force, and resist the most 
 formidable enemy. Where resistance is hope- 
 less, they then incur every danger, in order 
 to rescue their young by flight, and retard their 
 own expedition by providing for their little 
 ones. When the female oppossum, an ani- 
 mal of America, is pursued,she instantly takes 
 her young into a false belly, with which nature 
 has supplied her, and carries them off, or 
 dies in the endeavour. I have been lately as- 
 sured of a she-fox, which, when hunted, took 
 her cub in her mouth, and run for several 
 miles without quitting it, until at last she was 
 forced to leave it behind, upon the approach 
 of a mastiff, as she ran through a farmer's yard. 
 
 But, if at this period the mildest animals ac- 
 quire new fierceness, how formidable must 
 those be that subsist by rapine! At such times, 
 no obstacles can stop their ravage, nor no 
 threats can terrify ; the lioness then seems 
 more hardy than even the lion himself. She 
 attacks men and beasts indiscriminately, and 
 carries all she can overcome reeking to her 
 cubs, whom she thus early accustoms to slaugh- 
 ter. Milk, in the carnivorous animals, is much 
 more sparing than in others* and it may be 
 for this reason that all such carry home their 
 prey alive, that, in feeding their young, its 
 blood may supply the deficiencies of nature, 
 and serve instead of that milk with which 
 they are so sparingly supplied. 
 
 Nature, that has thus given them courage 
 to defend their young, has given them instinct 
 to choose the proper times of copulation, so 
 as to bring forth when the provision suited to 
 each kind is to be found in the greatest plen- 
 ty. The wolf, for instance, couples in Novem- 
 ber, so that the time of pregnancy continuing 
 five months, it may have its young in April. 
 The mare, who goes eleven months, admits 
 the horse in summer, in order to foal about 
 the beginning of May. On the contrary, those 
 animals which lay up provisions for the win- 
 ter, such as the beaver and the marmotte, cou- 
 ple in the latter end of autumn, so as to have 
 their young about January, against which sea- 
 son they have provided a very comfortable 
 store. These seasons for coupling, however, 
 among some of the domestic kinds, are gene- 
 rally in consequence of the quantity of pro- 
 visions with which they are at any time sup- 
 plied. Thus we may, by feeding any of these 
 animals, and keeping off the rigour of the cli- 
 mate, make them breed whenever we please. 
 In this manner those contrive who produce 
 lambs all the year round. 
 
 The choice of situation in bringing forth is 
 also very remarkable. In most of the rapa- 
 cious kinds, the female takes the utmost pre- 
 cautions to hide the place of her retreat from 
 the male ; who otherwise, when pressed by 
 hunger, would be apt to devour her cubs. 
 She seldom, therefore, strays far from the den, 
 and never approaches it while he is in view, 
 nor visits him again till her young are capa- 
 ble of providing for themselves. Such ani- 
 mals as are of tender constitutions take the 
 
ANIMALS. 
 
 213 
 
 utmost care to provide a place of warmth, as 
 well as safety, for their young ; the rapacious 
 kinds bring forth in the thickest woods ; those 
 that chew the cud, with the various tribes of 
 the vermin kind, choose some hiding place 
 in the neighbourhood of man. Some dig holes 
 in the ground ; some choose the hollow of a 
 tree ; and all the amphibious kinds bring up 
 their young near the water, and accustom 
 them betimes to their proper element. 
 
 Thus Nature seems kindly careful for the 
 protection of the meanest of her creatures : 
 but there is one class of quadrupeds that seems 
 entirely left to chance, that no parent stands 
 forth to protect, nor no instructor leads, to 
 teach the arts of subsistence. These are the 
 quadrupeds that are brought forth from the 
 egg, such as the lizard, the tortoise, and the 
 crocodile. The fecundity of all other animals 
 compared with these is sterility itself. These 
 bring forth above two hundred at a time ; but, 
 as the offspring is more numerous, the paren- 
 tal care is less exerted. Thus the numerous 
 brood of eggs are, without farther solicitude, 
 buried in the warm sands of the shore, and 
 the heat of the sun alone is left to bring them 
 to perfection. To this perfection they arrive 
 almost as soon as disengaged from the shell. 
 Most of them, without any other guide than 
 instinct, immediately make to the water. In 
 their passage thither, they have numberless 
 enemies to fear. The birds of prey that haunt 
 the shore, the beasts that accidentally come 
 there, and even the animals that give them 
 birth, are known, with a strange rapacity, to 
 thin their numbers as well as the rest. 
 
 But it is kindly ordered by Providence, that 
 these animals, which are mostly noxious, 
 should thus have many destroyers : were it 
 not for this, by their extreme fecundity, they 
 would soon over-run the earth, and cumber 
 all our plains with deformity. 
 
 [" Thus throughout the whole economy of 
 nature we may trace displays of infinite wis- 
 dom,even in regulating theimpulses of instinc- 
 tive power, and in governing its annual or va- 
 ried tides. A mere system of organized mat- 
 ter, without any independent and intelligent 
 cause, could never have communicated to it- 
 self that prescience which the numerous tribes 
 of animals exhibit; and to ascribe the visible 
 
 phenomena to chance, is to invest a mere ab- 
 stract idea with attributes, which, even human 
 knowledge, refined by all the light which phi- 
 losophy imparts, is scarcely able to compre- 
 hend. And even if we allow chance to have 
 been the primitive cause of existence, and of 
 the varied phenomena connected with it, we 
 must ascribe to it that eternity of being which 
 Atheism denies to the intelligent Creator; 
 unless we conceive that chance, by chance, 
 has begotten chance throughout an infinite 
 series in past duration. The absurdity of 
 such a supposition it would be folly to pursue. 
 
 "That many things appear inexplicable in 
 the economy and overruling Providence of 
 God, will be most readily allowed. In every 
 department, shadows, and obscurities, veil 
 from human penetration a considerable por- 
 tion of his ways. In the vast chain of being, 
 a few links only are open to human inspec- 
 tion ; and even these the dimness of our bodi- 
 ly organs and mental powers will not permit 
 us fully to explore. Sometimes even those 
 links which we perceive are not immediately 
 connected together; and at other times, mists, 
 minuteness, and distance, lay an embargo upon 
 our faculties. It is thus that the parts with 
 which we are surrounded, are intercepted 
 and concealed from our discernment, while 
 the chain itself, stretching into another world, 
 can only be discovered by that light, which, 
 in futurity, eternity shall impart. 
 
 " In the structure and organs of animals, 
 there is an adaptation for certain ends which 
 the most superficial observer can hardly fail 
 to observe. Adaptation implies design, and 
 this involves some being or power capable oi 
 forming the design, and calculating upon is- 
 sues, which no combination of accidents has 
 in any known case ever yet produced. The 
 evidences of wisdom which are scattered over 
 the surface of our globe, speak in a language 
 that must be heard even by the most careless 
 and inattentive ; and the animal world pre- 
 sents us with a noble compendium of facts, 
 that are constantly exposed to the scrutiny of 
 every eye. Of these, Dr. Goldsmith has fur- 
 nished a grand exhibition; and the condi- 
 tion of that reader is not to be envied, who, 
 after perusing his Natural History, can close 
 his book, and deliberately think there is no 
 God."] 
 
 2O 
 
214 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 ANXXKAX.S OF THE HORSE KIND. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 OF THE HORSE.* 
 
 horse kind deserve a 
 a history of nature. 
 
 ANIMALS of the 
 place next to man, in 
 
 Their activity, their strength, their usefulness, 
 and their beauty, all contribute to render them 
 the principal objects of our curiosity and care; 
 a race of creatures in whose welfare we are 
 interested next to our own. 
 
 Of all the quadruped animals, the horse 
 seems the most beautiful : the noble largeness 
 of his form, the glossy smoothness of his skin, 
 the graceful ease of his motions, and the exact 
 symmetry of his shape, have taught us to re- 
 gard him as the first, and as the most per- 
 fectly formed ; and yet, what is extraordinary 
 enough, if we examine him internally, his 
 structure will be found the most different from 
 that of man of all other quadrupeds whatso- 
 ever. As the ape approaches us the nearest 
 in internal conformation, so the horse is the 
 most remote ; b a striking proof that there may 
 be oppositions of beauty, and that all grace is 
 not to be referred to one standard. 
 
 To have an idea of this noble animal in his 
 
 * As it may happen, that in a description where it is 
 the aim rather to insert what is not usually known, than 
 all that is known, some of the more obvious particulars 
 may be omitted ; I will take leave to subjoin in the notes 
 the characteristic marks of each animal, as given us by 
 Linnaeus. " The horse, with six cutting teeth before, 
 and single-hoofed ; a a native of Europe and the East, (but 
 I believe rather of Africa;) a generous, proud, and strong 
 animal ; fit either for the draught, the course, or the 
 road : he is delighted with woods ; he takes care of his 
 hinder parts; defends himself from the flies with his tail; 
 scratches his fellow; defends his young ; calls by neigh- 
 ing; sleeps after night-fall; fights by kicking, and by 
 biting also ; rolls on the ground when he sweats; eats the 
 grass closer than the ox ; distributes the seed by dunging; 
 wants a gall-bladder ; never vomits ; the foal is produced 
 
 native simplicity, we are not to look for him 
 in the pastures or the stables, to which he has 
 been consigned by man; but in those wild 
 and extensive plains where he has been ori- 
 ginally produced; where he ranges without 
 control, and riots in all the variety of luxurious 
 nature. In this state of happy independence, 
 he disdains the assistance of man, which only 
 tends to servitude. In those boundless tracts, 
 whether of Africa or New Spain, where he 
 runs at liberty, he seems no way incommoded 
 with the inconveniences to which he is subject 
 in Europe. The continual verdure of the 
 fields supplies his wants; and the climate, that 
 never knows a winter, suits his constitution, 
 which naturally seems adapted to heat. His 
 enemies of the forest are but few, for none but 
 the greater kinds will venture to attack him : 
 any one of these he is singly able to overcome ; 
 while, at the same time, he is content to find 
 safety in society ; for the wild horses of those 
 countries always herd together. 
 
 In these countries, therefore, the horses are 
 
 with the feet stretched out; he is injured by being struck 
 on the ear : upon the stiffle ; by being caught by the 
 nose in barnacles; by having his teeth rubbed with tallow ; 
 by the herb padus ; by the herb phalandria ; by the cru- 
 culio ; by the conops. His diseases are different indif- 
 ferent countries. A consumption of the ethmoid bones 
 of the nose, called the glanders, is with us the most in- 
 fectious and fatal. He eats hemlock without injury. The 
 mare goes with foal 290 days. The placenta is not fixed. 
 He acquires not the canine teeth till the age of five j't-ars. 
 
 [ n In South America is found a horse whoso hoofs are 
 divided, like those of a ruminant quadruped In its ge- 
 neral appearance, size, and colour, it resembles the ass, 
 but has the voice and ears of a horse, and has no bat.ds 
 crossing the shoulders. It is very wild, swift, and strong.] 
 
 b Histolce Naturelle, Daubenton, vol. vii. p. 374. 
 
THE HORSE. 
 
 215 
 
 often seen feeding in droves of five or six hun- 
 dred. As they do not carry on war against 
 any other race of animals, they are satisfied to 
 remain entirely upon the defensive. The pas- 
 tures on which they live, satisfy all their 
 appetites, and all other precautions are purely 
 for their security, in case of a surprise. As 
 they arc never attacked but at a disadvantage, 
 whenever they sleep in the forests, they have 
 always one among their number that stands 
 as centinel, to give notice of any approaching 
 danger ; and this office they take by turns." 
 If a man approaches them while they are feed- 
 ing by day, their centinel walks up boldly 
 near him, as if to examine his strength, or to 
 intimidate him from proceeding ; but as the 
 man approaches within pistol-shot, the centi- 
 nel then thinks it high time to alarm his fel- 
 lows ; this he does by a loud kind of snorting, 
 upon which they all take the signal, and fly off 
 with the speed of the wind ; their faithful centi- 
 nel bringing up the rear. b 
 
 It is not easy to say from what country the 
 horse came originally. It should seem that 
 the colder climates do not agree with his con- 
 stitution ; for although he is found almost in 
 them all, yet his form is altered there, and he 
 is found at once diminutive and ill-shaped. We 
 have the testimony of the ancients that there 
 were wild horses once in Europe ; at present, 
 however, they are totally brought under sub- 
 jection ; and even those which are found in 
 America are of a Spanish breed, which being 
 sent thither upon its first discovery, have since 
 become wild, and have spread over all the 
 soutli of that vast continent almost to the straits 
 of Magellan. These, in general, are a small 
 br'-ed, of about fourteen hands high. They 
 have thick jaws and clumsy joints ; their ears 
 and neck also are long ; they are easily tamrd ; 
 for the horse, by nature, is a gentle complying 
 creature, and resists rather from fear than ob- 
 stinacy. They are caught by a kind of noose, 
 and then held fast by the legs, and tied to a 
 tree, where they are left for two days without 
 food or drink. By that time they begin to 
 grow manageable ; and in some weeks they 
 become as ta<ne as if they had never been in 
 a state of vvildness. If, by any accident, they 
 arc once more set at liberty, they never be- 
 come wild again, but know their masters, and 
 
 * Dictionnaire Universelle des Animaux, p. 19. 
 
 come to their call. Some of the buccaneers 
 have often been agreeably surprised, after a 
 long absence, to see their faithful horses once 
 more present themselves, with their usual assi- 
 duity ; and come up, with fond submission, to 
 receive the rein. 
 
 These American horses, however, cannot 
 properly be ranked among the wild races, since 
 they were originally bred from such as were 
 tame. It is not in the new, but the old world, 
 that we are to look for this animal in a true 
 state of nature; in the extensive deserts of 
 Africa, in Arabia, and those wide-spread coun- 
 tries that separate Tartary from the more 
 southern nations. Vast droves of these ani- 
 mals are seen wild among the Tartars ; they 
 are of a small breed, extremely swift, and very 
 readily evade their pursuers. As they go to- 
 gether, they will not admit of any strange ani- 
 mals among them, though even of their own 
 kind. Whenever they find a tame horse at- 
 tempting to associate with them, they instantly 
 gather round him, and soon oblige him to seek 
 safety by flight. There are vast numbers also 
 of wild horses to the north of China, but they 
 are of a weak, timid breed ; small of stature, 
 and useless in war. 
 
 At the Cape of Good Hope there are num- 
 bers of horses in a state of nature, but small, 
 vicious, and untameable. They are found 
 wild also in several other parts of Africa ; but 
 the wretched inhabitants of that country either 
 want the art to tame them, or seem ignorant 
 of their uses. It is common with the negroes, 
 who are carried over from thence to America, 
 when they first see a horse, to testify both ter- 
 ror and surprise. These poor men seem not 
 to have any knowledge of such a creature ; and, 
 though the horse is probably a native of their 
 own country, they have let all the rest of man- 
 kind enjoy the benefit of his services, without 
 turning them to any advantage at home. In 
 some parts of Africa, therefore, where the horse 
 runs wild, the natives seem to consider him 
 rather in the light of a dainty for food, than a 
 useful creature, capable of assisting them either 
 in war or in labour : riding seems a refinement 
 that the natives of Angola or Caffraria have 
 not as yet been able to attend to ; and when- 
 ever they catch a horse, it is only with an in- 
 tent to eat him. 
 
 b Labat, torn. vii. 
 
216 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 But of all countries in the world, where the 
 horse runs wild, Arabia produces the most 
 beautiful breed, the most generous, swift, and 
 persevering. They are found, though not in 
 great numbers, in the deserts of that country ; 
 and the natives use every stratagem to take 
 them. Although they are active and beauti- 
 ful, yet they are not so large as those that are 
 bred up tame ; they are of a brown colour, 
 their mane and tail very short, and the hair 
 black and tufted." Their swiftness is incre- 
 dible: the attempt to pursue them in the 
 usual manner of the chase, with dogs, would be 
 entirely fruitless. Such is the rapidity of their 
 flight, that they are instantly out of view, and 
 the dogs themselves give up the vain pursuit. 
 The only method, therefore, of taking them, 
 is by traps hidden in the sand, which entang- 
 ling their feet, the hunter at length comes up, 
 and either kills them, or carries them home 
 alive. If the horse be young, he is consider- 
 ed among the Arabians as a very great deli- 
 cacy; and they feast upon him while any part 
 is found remaining : but if, from his shape or 
 vigour, he promises to be serviceable in his 
 more noble capacity, they take the usual me- 
 thods of taming him, by fatigue and hunger, 
 and he soon becomes a useful domestic animal. 
 The usual manner of trying their swiftness 
 is by hunting the ostrich : the horse is the only 
 animal whose speed is comparable to that of 
 this creature, which is found in the sandy 
 plains, with which those countries abound. 
 The instant the ostrich perceives itself aimed 
 at, it makes to the mountains, while the horse- 
 man pursues with all the swiftness possible, 
 and endeavours to cut off its retreat. The 
 chase then continues along the plain, while, 
 the ostrich makes use of both legs and wings 
 to assist its motion. However, a horse of the 
 first speed is able to outrun it; so that the 
 poor animal is then obliged to have recourse 
 to art to elude the hunter, by frequently turn- 
 ing: at length, finding all escape hopeless, it 
 hides its head wherever it can, and suffers it- 
 self tamely to be taken. If the horse, in a 
 trial of this kind, shows great speed, and is 
 not readily tired, his price becomes propor- 
 tionably great, and there are some horses va- 
 lued at a thousand ducats. 
 
 a Mann Descript de 1'Aftique, lib. i. p. 51. 
 
 But the horses thus caught, or trained in 
 this manner, are at present but very few : the 
 value of Arabian horses, all over the world, 
 has, in a great measure, thinned the deserts 
 of the wild breed ; and there are very few to 
 be found in those countries, except such as 
 are tame. The Arabians, as we are told by 
 historians, first began the management of 
 horses in the time of Shaque Ishmael. Be- 
 fore that, they wandered wild along the face 
 of the country neglected and useless ; but 
 the natives then first began to tame their fierce- 
 ness, and to improve their beauty ; so that at 
 present they possess a race of the most beau- 
 tiful horses in the world, with which they 
 drive a trade, and furnish the stables of prin- 
 ces at immense prices. 
 
 There is scarcely an Arabian, how poor so- 
 ever, but is provided with his horse. b They, 
 in general, make use of mares in their ordinary 
 excursions; experience having taught them 
 that they support fatigue, thirst, and hunger, 
 better than the horses are found to do. They 
 are also less vicious, of a gentler nature, and 
 are not so apt to neigh. They are more harm- 
 less also among themselves, not so apt to kick 
 or hurt each other, but remain Avhole days 
 together without the least mischief. The 
 Turks, on the contrary, are not fond of mares ; 
 and the Arabians sell them such horses as they 
 do not choose to keep for stallions at home. 
 They preserve the pedigree of their horses 
 with great care, and for several ages back. 
 They know theiralliances,and all their genea- 
 logy; they distinguish the races by different 
 names, and divide them into three classes. 
 The first is that of the nobles, the ancient 
 breed and unadulterated on either side; the se- 
 cond is that of the horses of the ancient race, 
 but adulterated; and the third is tiiat of the 
 common and inferior kind : the last thoy sell 
 at a low price ; but those of the first class, 
 and even of the second, amongst which are 
 found horses of equal value to the former, 
 are sold extremely dear. They know, by 
 long experience, the race of a horse by his 
 appearance ; they can tell the name, the sur- 
 name, the colour,. and the marks properly be- 
 longing to each. When they are not possess- 
 ed of stallions of the noble race themselves, 
 
 Buffou. 
 
THE HORSE. 
 
 217 
 
 for their marcs, they borrow from their neigh- 
 bours, paying a proper price, as with us, and 
 receive a written attestation of the whole. 
 In this attestation is contained the name of 
 the horse and the mare, and their respective 
 genealogies. When the mare has produced 
 her foal, new witnesses are called, and a new 
 attestation signed, in which are described the 
 marks of the foal, and the day noted when it 
 was brought forth. These attestations increase 
 the value of the horse ; and they are given to 
 the person who buys him. The most ordina- 
 ry mare of this race sells for five hundred 
 crowns ; there are many that sell for a thou- 
 sand ; and some of the very finest kinds for 
 fourteen or fifteen hundred pounds. As the 
 Arabians have no other house but a tent to 
 live in, this also serves them for a stable ; so 
 that the mare, the foal, the husband, the wife, 
 and the children, lie all together indiscrimi- 
 nately : the little children are often seen upon 
 the body or the neck of the mare, while these 
 continue inoffensive and harmless, permitting 
 them thus to play with and caress them with- 
 out any injury. The Arabians never beat 
 their horses ; they treat them gently ; they 
 speak to them, and seem to hold a discourse; 
 they use them as friends ; they never attempt 
 to increase their speed by the whip, nor spur 
 them, but in cases of necessity. However, 
 when this happens, they set off with amazing 
 swiftness ; they leap over obstacles with as 
 much agility as a buck ; and if the rider hap- 
 pens to fall, they are so manageable that they 
 stand still in the midst of their most rapid ca- 
 reer. The Arabian horses are of a middle 
 size, easy in their motions, and rather inclin- 
 ed to leanness than fat. They are regular- 
 ly dressed every morning and evening, and 
 with such care that the smallest roughness is 
 not left upon their skins. They wash the legs, 
 the mane, and the tail, which they never cut; 
 and which they seldom comb, lest they should 
 thin the hair. They give them nothing to eat 
 during the day; they only give them to drink 
 once or twice ; and at sun-set they hang a bag 
 to their heads, in which there is about half a 
 bushel of clean barley. They continue eating 
 the "whole night, and the bag is again taken 
 away the next morning. They are turned out 
 to pasture in the beginning of March, when 
 the grass is pretty high, and at which time 
 
 the mares are given to the stallion. When 
 the spring is past, they take them again from 
 pasture, and they get neither grass nor hay 
 during the rest of the year; barley is their 
 only food, except now and then a little straw. 
 The mane of the fo;\l is always clipped when 
 about a year or eighteen months old, in order 
 to make it stronger and thicker. They be- 
 gin to break them at two years old, or two 
 years and a half at farthest ; they never sad- 
 dle or bridle them till at that age; and then 
 they are always kept ready saddled at the 
 door of the tent, from morning till sun-set, in 
 order to be prepared against any surprise. 
 They at present seem sensible of the great ad- 
 vantage their horses are to the country ; there 
 is a law, therefore, that prohibits the expor- 
 tation of the mares ; and such stallions as are 
 brought into England are generally purchased 
 on the eastern shores of Africa, and come 
 round to us by the Cape of Good Hope. 
 They are in general less in stature than our 
 own, being not above fourteen, or fourteen 
 hands and a half high : their motions are much 
 more graceful and swifter than of our own 
 horses; but, nevertheless, their speed is far 
 from being equal ; they run higher from the 
 ground ; their stroke is not so long and close ; 
 and they are far inferior in bottom. Still, how- 
 ever, they must be considered as the first and 
 finest breed in the world, and that from which 
 all others have derived their principal quali- 
 fications. It is even probable that Arabia is 
 the original country of horses ; since there, 
 instead of crossing the breed, they take every 
 precaution to keep it entire. In other coun- 
 tries they must continually change the races, 
 or their horses would soon degenerate; but 
 there the same blood has passed down through 
 a long succession, without any diminution 
 either of force or beauty. 
 
 The race of Arabian horses has spread it- 
 self into Barbary, among the Moors, and has 
 even extended across that extensive continent 
 to the western shores of Africa. Among the 
 negroes of Gambia and Senegal, the chiefs of 
 the country are possessed of horses, which, 
 though little, are very beautiful, and extreme- 
 ly manageable. Instead of barley, they are 
 fed in those countries with maise bruised and 
 reduced into meal, and mixed up with milk 
 when they design to fatten them. These are 
 
218 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 considered as next to the Arabian horses, 
 both for swiftness and beauty; but they are 
 rather still smaller than the former. The 
 Italians have a peculiar sport, in which horses 
 of this breed run against each other. They 
 have no riders, but saddles so formed as to 
 flap ngainst the horses' sides as they move, 
 and thus to spur them forward. They are 
 set to run in a kind of railed walk, about a 
 mile long, out of which they never attempt to 
 escape ; but when they once set forward, they 
 never stop, although the walk from one end 
 to the other is covered with a crowd of spec- 
 tators, which opens and gives way as the horses 
 approach. Our horses would scarcely, in this 
 manner,face a crowd, and continue theirspeed 
 without a rider, through the midst of a multi- 
 tude; and, indeed, it is a little surprising how 
 in such a place the horses find their own way. 
 However, what our English horses may want 
 in sagacity, they make up by their swiftness ; 
 and it has been found upon computation, that 
 their speed is nearly one-fourth greater, even 
 carrying a rider, than that of the swiftest Barb 
 without one. 
 
 The Arabian breed has been diffused into 
 Egypt as well as Barbary,and into Persia also; 
 where, as we are told by Marcus Paulus, there 
 are studs often thousand white mares all to- 
 gether, very fleet, and with the hoof so hard 
 that shoeing is unnecessary. In these coun- 
 tries, they in general give their horses the 
 same treatment that they gire in Arabia, ex- 
 cept that they litter them upon a bed of their 
 own dung, dried in the Sun, and then reduced 
 to powder. When this, which is spread under 
 the horse about five inches thick, is moisten- 
 ed, they dry it again, and spread it as before. 
 The horses of these countries a good deal re- 
 semble each other. They are usually of a 
 slender make ; their legs fine, bony, and far 
 apart ; a thin mane ; a fine crest ; a beauti- 
 ful head ; the ear small and well pointed ; the 
 shoulder thin ; the side rounded, without any 
 unsightly prominence ; the croup is a little of 
 the longest, and the tail is generally set high. 
 The race of horses, however, is much degene- 
 rated in Numidia; the natives having been 
 discouraged from keeping the breed up by 
 the Turks, who seize upon all the good 
 horses, without paying the owners the smallest 
 gratuity for their care in bringing them up. 
 
 The Tingitanians and Egyptians have now, 
 therefore, the fame of rearing the finest horses, 
 both for size and beauiy. The smallest of 
 these last are usually sixteen hands high ; and 
 all of them shaped, as they express it, with 
 the elegance of an antelope. 
 
 Next to the Barb, travellers generally rank 
 the Spanish genette. These horses, like the 
 former, are little, but extremely swift and beau- 
 tiful. The head is something of the largest ; 
 the mane thick ; the ears long, but well point- 
 ed; the eyes filled with fire; the shoulder 
 thickish, and the breast full and large. The 
 croup round and large ; the legs beautiful, and 
 without hair; the pastern a little of the long- 
 est, as in the Barb, and the hoof rather too 
 high. Nevertheless, they move with great 
 ease, and carry themselves extremely well. 
 Their most usual colour is black, or a dark 
 bay. They seldom or never have white legs, 
 or white snip. The Spaniards, who have a 
 groundless aversion to these marks, never 
 breed from such as have them. They are all 
 branded on the buttock with the owner's 
 name ; and those of the province of Andalusia 
 pass for the best. These are said to possess 
 courage, obedience, grace, and spirit, in a 
 greater degree than even the Barb; and for 
 this reason they have been preferred as war- 
 horses to those of any other country. 
 
 The Italian horses were once more beauti- 
 ful than they are at present, for they have 
 greatly neglected the breed. Nevertheless, 
 there are still found some beautiful horses 
 among them, particularly among the Neapo- 
 litans, who chiefly use them for the draught. 
 In general, they have large heads and thick 
 necks. They are also restive, and conse- 
 quently unmanageable. These faults, how- 
 ever, are recompensed by the largeness of 
 their size, by their spirit, and the beauty of 
 their motion. They are excellent for show, 
 and have a peculiar aptitude (o prance. 
 
 The Danish horses arc of such an excel- 
 lent size, and so strong a make, that they are 
 preferred to all others for the draught. There 
 are some of them perfectly well shaped : but 
 this is but seldom sren, for in general they are 
 found to have a thick neck, heavy shoulders, 
 long and hollow back, and a narrow croup: 
 however, they all move well, and are found 
 excellent both for parade and war. They are 
 
THE HORSE. 
 
 219 
 
 of all colours, and often of whimsical ones, 
 some being streaked like the tiger, or mottled 
 like the leopard. 
 
 The German horses are originally from 
 Arabinn ami Barbary stocks : nevertheless, 
 they appear to be small and ill-shaped : it is 
 said also, that they are weak and washy, with 
 tender hoofs. The Hungarian horses, on the 
 other hand, are excellent for the draught, as 
 well as the saddle. The Hussars, who use 
 them in war, usually slit their nostrils ; which 
 is done, as it is said, to prevent their neighing, 
 but, perhaps, without any real foundation. 
 
 The Dutch breed is good for the draught, 
 and is generally used for that purpose over 
 Europe : the best come from the province of 
 Friezlnnd. The Flanders' horses are much 
 inferior to the former ; the have most com- 
 monly large heads, flat feet, and swollen logs; 
 which are an essential blemish in horses of this 
 kind. 
 
 The French horses are of various kinds; 
 but they have few that are good. The best 
 horses of that country come from Limosin ; 
 they have a strong resemblance to the Barb, 
 and, like them, they are excellent for the chase ; 
 but they are slow in coming to perfection : 
 they are to be carefully treated while young, 
 and !)iust not be backed till they are eight years 
 old. Normandy furnishes the next best; which, 
 though not so good for the chase, are yet better 
 for war. In general, the French horses have 
 thi> fault of being heavy shouldered, which is 
 opposite fa the fault of the Barb, which is too 
 thin in the shoulder, and is, consequently, apt 
 to be shoulder -slipt. 
 
 Having mentioned the horses most usually 
 knmni in Europe, we pass on to those of more 
 distant countries, of whose horses we can only 
 judge by report. We mentioned the wild 
 horses of America. Such as are tame, if we 
 may credit the latest reports," are admirable. 
 Great numbers of these are bred up to the chase, 
 and arc chiefly kept for this purpose, particu- 
 larly at Qiiito. The hunters, as Ulloa informs 
 us, are divided into two classes ; one part on 
 foot, the other on horseback : the business of 
 the footmen is to rouse the deer ; and that of 
 the horsemen, to hunt it down. They all, at 
 break of day, repair to the place appointed, 
 which is generally on the summit of a hill, with 
 
 Ulloa's Voyage, vol. i. p. 464. 
 
 every man his greyhound. The horsemen place 
 themselves on the highest peaks ; whilst those 
 on foot range the precipices, making an hideous 
 noise, in order to start the deer. Thus the 
 company extend themselves three or four 
 leagues, or more, according to their numbers. 
 On starting any game, the horse which first 
 perceives it, sets off, and the rider, being unable 
 to guide or stop him, pursues the chase, some- 
 times down such a steep slope, that a man on 
 foot, with the greatest care, could hardly keep 
 his legs ; from thence he flies up a dangerous 
 ascent, or along the side of a mountain ; so that 
 a person not used to this exercise would think 
 it much safer to throw himself out of the saddle, 
 than commit his life to the precipitate ardour 
 of his horse. The other horses, which join in 
 the chase, do not wait for the riders to animate 
 them ; they set forward immediately upon see- 
 ing another at full speed ; and it becomes pru- 
 dence in the rider to give them their way, and 
 at the same time to let them feel the spur, to 
 carry him over the precipices. These horses 
 are backed and exercised to this method of 
 hunting ; and their usual pace is trotting. 
 
 There are said to be very good horses in the 
 islands of the Archipelago. Those of Crete 
 were in great reputation among the ancients 
 for their swiftness and force ; however, at 
 present they are but little used, even in the 
 country itself, because of the unevenness of the 
 ground, which is there very rocky and moun- 
 tainous. The original horses of Morocco are 
 much smaller than the Arabian breed ; how- 
 ever, they are very swift and vigorous. In 
 Turkey there are to be found horses of almost 
 all races: Arabians, Tartars, Hungarians, and 
 those natural to the place. The latter are very 
 beautiful and elegant ; they have a great deal 
 of fire, swiftness, and management ; but they 
 are not able to support fatigue : they eat little; 
 they are easily heated ; and they have skins so 
 sensible, that they can scarcely bear the rub- 
 bing of the stirrup. The Persian horses are, 
 in general, the most beautiful and most valuable 
 of all the East. The pastures in the plains of 
 Media, Persepolis, Ardebil, and Derbent, are 
 excellent for the purpose of rearing them ; and 
 there were bred in those places vast nu tubers, 
 by order of the government of Persia, while 
 thatcountry was under any government. Pietro 
 della Valle prefers the horses of Persia to those 
 of Italy; and informs us, that they are in gene- 
 
 2P 
 
220 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 ral of a middle size; and although some are 
 found even of the smallest stature, yet that does 
 not impair their beauty or their strength ; yet, 
 in some places, they are found of a very good 
 size, and as large as the English saddle-horses 
 are generally found to be : they have all a thin 
 head, a fine crest, a narrow breast, small ears 
 well placed, the legs fine, the hoof hard, and 
 the croup beautiful ; they are docile, spirited, 
 nimble, hardy, courageous, and capable of sup- 
 porting very great fatigue ; they run very swiftly, 
 without being easily fatigued ; they are strong, 
 and easily nourished, being only supplied with 
 barley and chopped straw ; they are put to 
 grass only for six weeks in the spring ; they 
 have always the tail at full length, and there is 
 no such thing as geldings among the number ; 
 they are defended from the air, as in England, 
 by body-cloths ; they attend them with the 
 most punctual exactness; and they are rid 
 generally in a snaffle, without spurs. Great 
 numbers of these are every year transported 
 into Turkey, but chiefly into the East Indies : 
 however, after all, travellers agree that they 
 are not to be compared to the Arabian horses, 
 either for courage, force, or beauty ; and that 
 the latter are eagerly sought, even in Persia. 
 
 The horses of India are of a very indifferent 
 kind, being weak and washy. Those which 
 are used by the grandees of the country come 
 from Persia and Arabia ; they are fed with a 
 small quantity of hay during the day ; and at 
 night they have boiled peas, mixed with sugar 
 and butter, instead of oats or barley : this 
 nourishment supports them, and gives them 
 strength ; otherwise they would soon sink and 
 degenerate. Those naturally belonging to the 
 country, are very small and vicious. Some 
 are so very little, that Taverner reports, that 
 the young Mogul prince, at the age of seven or 
 eight, rode one of those little horses, that was 
 not much larger than a greyhound : and it is 
 not long since one of these was brought over 
 into this country as a present to our Queen, 
 that measures no more than nine hands high : 
 and is not much larger than a common mastiff. 
 It would seem, that climates excessively hot 
 are unfavourable to this animal. In this man- 
 ner, the horses of the Gold-coast, and of 
 Guinea, are extremely little, but very manage- 
 able. It is a common exercise with the gran- 
 dees of that country, who are excellent horse- 
 men, to dart out their lances before them upon 
 
 full gallop, and to catch them again before 
 they come to the ground. They have a sport 
 also on horseback, that requires great dexterity 
 in the rider, and a great share of activity in 
 the horse : they strike off a ball, with a battle- 
 dore, while they are upon a full gallop, and 
 pursuing it, strike it again before it comes to 
 the ground ; and this they continue for a mile 
 together, striking sometimes to the right, and 
 sometimes to the left, with amazing speed and 
 agility. 
 
 The horses of China are as indifferent as 
 those of India: they are weak, little, ill-shaped, 
 and cowardly. Those of Corea are not above 
 three feet high ; almost all the breed there are 
 made geldings, and are so timorous, that they 
 can be rendered no way serviceable in war ; 
 so that it may be said, that the Tartar horses 
 were properly the conquerors of China. These, 
 indeed, are very serviceable in war, and al- 
 though but of a middle size, yet they are sur- 
 prisingly patient, vigorous, swift, and bold ; 
 their hoofs are extremely hard, though rather 
 too narrow ; their heads are fine, but rather 
 too little ; the neck is long and stiff; the legs 
 of the longest; and yet, with all these faults, 
 they are found to be an excellent breed. The 
 Tartars live with their horses pretty much in 
 the same manner as the Arabians do ; they 
 begin to back them at the age of seven or eight 
 months, placing their children upon them, who 
 manage them even at that early age. By these 
 means they break them by little and little, till 
 at last, about the age of six or seven years, they 
 are capable of enduring amazing hardships. 
 Thus they have been known to march two or 
 three days without once stopping ; to continue 
 five or six, without eating any thing except a 
 handful of grass at every eight hours ; and, 
 besides, to remain without drinking for four 
 and twenty hours. These horses, which are 
 so vigorous in their own country, lose all their 
 strength when they are brought into China or 
 the Indies ; but they thrive pretty well in Per- 
 sia and Turkey. The race of little Tartars 
 towards the north have also a breed of little 
 horses, which th^y set such a value upon, that 
 it is forbidden to sell them to strangers : these 
 horses have the very same qualities w irh those 
 of the larger kind ; which they probably derive 
 from a similar treatment. There are also 
 very fine horses in Circassia and MingrtTia. 
 There are some greatly esteemed in the 
 
THE HORSE. 
 
 221 
 
 Ukraine, in Walachia, Poland, and Sweden ; 
 but we have no particular accounts of their 
 excellencies or defects. 
 
 , If we consult the ancients on the nature and 
 qualities of the horses of different countries, 
 we learn that the Grecian horses, and parti- 
 cularly those of Thessaly, had the reputation 
 of being excellent for war; that those of Ac- 
 haia were the largest that were known ; that 
 the most beautiful came from Egypt, which 
 bred great numbers ; that the horses of Ethio- 
 pia were not in esteem, from the heat of the 
 country; that Arabiaand Africa furnished very 
 beautiful horses, and very n't for the course ; 
 that those of Italy, and particularly of Apulia, 
 were very good ; that in Sicily, Capadocia, 
 Syria, Armenia, Media, and Persia, there were 
 excellent horses, equally esteemed for their 
 speed and vigour; that those of Sardinia and 
 Corsica, though small, were spirited and cou- 
 rageous ; that those of Spain resembled the 
 Parthian horses, in being very well adapted 
 for war ; that in Walachia and Transylvania, 
 there were horses with bushy tails, and manes 
 hanging down to the ground, which, neverthe- 
 less, were extremely swift and active ; that 
 the Danish horses were good leapers ; those 
 ofScandinavia, though little, were well shaped, 
 and possessed of great agility; that the 
 Flanders' breed was strong ; that the Gaul- 
 ish horses were good for carrying burdens; 
 that the German breeds were so bad, so di- 
 minutive, and ill-shaped, that no use could be 
 made of them; that the Swiss and Hun- 
 garian horses were good; and, lastly, that 
 those of India were very diminutive and 
 feeble. 
 
 Such are the different accounts we have of 
 the various races of horses in different parts 
 of the world. I have hitherto omitted making 
 mention of one particular breed, more excel- 
 lent than any that either the ancients or mo- 
 derns have produced; and that is our own. 
 It is not without great assiduity,and unceasing 
 application, that the English horses are now 
 become superior to those of any other part 
 of the world, for size, strength, swiftness, and 
 beauty. It was not without great attention, 
 and repeated trials of all the best horses in 
 different parts of the world, that we have 
 been thus successful in improving the breed 
 of this animal ; so that the English horses are 
 
 now capable of performing what no others 
 ever could attain to. By a judicious mixture 
 of the several kinds, by the happy difference 
 of our soils, and by our superior skill in ma- 
 nagement, we have brought this animal to its 
 highest perfection. An English horse, there- 
 fore, is now known to excel the Arabian in 
 size and swiftness, to be more durable than 
 the Barb, and more hardy than the Persian. 
 An ordinary racer is known to go at the rate 
 of a mile in two minutes : and we had one 
 instance, in the admirable Childers, of still 
 greater rapidity. He has been frequently 
 known to move above eighty-two feet and a 
 half in a second, or almost a mile in a minute : 
 he has also run round the course of New- 
 market, which is very little less than four miles, 
 in six minutes and forty seconds. But what 
 is surprising, few horses have been since 
 found that ever could equal him: and 
 those of his breed have been remarkably 
 deficient. 
 
 However this be, no horses can any way 
 equal our own, either in point of swiftness or 
 strength ; and these are the qualifications our 
 horsemen seem chiefly to value. For this rea- 
 son, when the French, or other foreigners, de- 
 scribe our breed, they all mention, as a fault, 
 the awkward and ungainly motion of our 
 horses ; they allow them to be very good in- 
 deed, but they will not grant them an easy or 
 an elegant carriage." But these writers do 
 not consider that this seeming want of grace 
 is entirely the result of our manner of break- 
 ing them. We consult only speed and des- 
 patch in this animal's motions ; the French 
 and other nations are more anxious for parade 
 and spirit. For this reason, we always throw 
 our horses forward, while they put them upon 
 their haunches: we give them an easy swift 
 gait of going, that covers a great deal of ground; 
 they, on the contrary, throw them back, giv- 
 ing them a more showy appearance indeed, 
 but one infinitely less useful. The fault of 
 our manner of breaking is, that the horse is 
 sometimes apt to fall forward : the French 
 managed-horse never falls before, but more 
 usually on one side : and for this reason the 
 rider wears stiffboots, to guard his legsagainst 
 such accidents. However, it would be a very 
 
 See Buffon's account of our horses. 
 2 P* 
 
222 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 easy matter to give our horses all that grace 
 whichforeignersaresofondof; butit would cer- 
 tainly take from their swiftness and dura- 
 bility. 
 
 But in what degree of contempt soever fo- 
 reigners might formerly have held our horses, 
 they have for some time perceived their error, 
 and our English hunters are considered as the 
 noblest and the most useful horses in the world. 
 Our geldings are, therefore, sent over to the 
 continent in great numbers, and sell at very 
 great prices; as for our mares and stallions, 
 there is a law prohibiting their exportation; 
 and one similar to this is said to have obtained 
 even as early as the times of Athelstan, who 
 prohibited their exportation, except where 
 designed us presents. 
 
 Roger de Belegme, created Earl of Shreu s- 
 bury by William the Conqueror," is the first 
 who is recorded to have made attempts to- 
 wards the mending our native breed. He 
 introduced Spanish stallions into his estate at 
 Powisland in Wales, from which that part of 
 the country was for many ages after famous 
 for a swift and generous race of horses : how- 
 ever, at that time strength and swiftness were 
 more regarded than beauty ; the horses' shapes, 
 in time of action, being entirely hid by a coat 
 of armour, which the knights then usually put 
 upon them, either by way of ornament or 
 defence. 
 
 The number of our horses in London alone, ' 
 in the time of King Stephen, is said to have 
 amounted to twenty thousand. However, long 
 after, in the times of Queen Elizabeth, the 
 whole kingdom could not supply two thousand 
 horses to form our cavalry. At present, the 
 former numbers seem revived; so that, in the 
 late war, we furnished out above thirteen thou- 
 sand horsemen; and could, if hard pushed, 
 supply above four times that number. How 
 far this great increase of horses among us may 
 be beneficial, or otherwise, is not the proper 
 business of the present page to discuss ; but 
 certain it is, that where horses increase in too 
 great a degree, men must diminish propor- 
 tionably ; as that food which goes to supply 
 
 British Zoology, vol. i. p. 4. To this work I am in- 
 debted tor several particular! with regard to the native 
 animals of this island. 
 
 the one, might very easily be converted into 
 nourishment to serve the other. Bm, perhaps, 
 it may be speculating too remotely, to argue 
 for the diminution of their numbers upon this 
 principle, since every manufacture we export 
 into other countries, takes up room, and may 
 have occupied that place, which, in a state of 
 greater simplicity, might have given birth and 
 subsistence to mankind, and have added to 
 population. 
 
 Be this as it will, as we have been at such 
 expense and trouble to procure an excellent 
 breed of horses, it is not now to be expected 
 that we should decline the advantages arising 
 from it, just when in our possession. It may 
 be, therefore, the most prudent measure in our 
 legislature, to encourage the breed as an useful 
 branch of commerce, and a natural defence to 
 the country. liul how far this MM! is answered 
 by the breeding np of racers, is what most 
 persons, versed in this subject, are very apt to 
 question. They assert, thai the running-horse, 
 as the breed has been lor a long time refined, 
 is unfit for any other service than that of the 
 course, being too slight cither for i he road, the 
 chase, or the combat ; and his joints so deli- 
 cately united, as to render him subject to the 
 smallest accidents. They, therefore', conclude, 
 that less encouragement given to racing, would 
 be a means of turning us from breeding rather 
 for swiftness than strength; and that we 
 should thus be again famous for our strong 
 hunters, which, they say, are wearing out from 
 among us. 
 
 How far this may be fact, I will not 
 take upon me to determine, being but little 
 versed in a subject that does not properly come 
 within the compass of natural history. Instead, 
 therefore, of farther expatiating on this well- 
 known animal's qualifications, upon which 
 many volumes might easily be written, F will 
 content myself with just mentioning the de- 
 scription of Camerarius, in which he professes 
 to unite all the perfections which a horse ought 
 to be possessed of. " It must," says he, " have 
 three parts like those of a woman ; the breast 
 must be broad, the hips round, and the mane 
 long : it must in three things resemble a lion ; 
 its countenance must be fierce, its courage 
 must be great, and its fury irresistible : it must 
 have three things belonging to the sheep ; the 
 nose, gentleness, and patience : it must have 
 
THE ASS. 
 
 223 
 
 three of a doer ; head, leg, and skin : it must 
 have three of a wolf; throat, neck, and hear- 
 ing : it must have three of a fox ; car, tail, and 
 
 trot : three of a serpent ; memory, sight, and 
 flexibility: and, lastly, three of a hare; run- 
 ning, walking, and perseverance." 1 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 OF THE ASS." 
 
 ALTHOUGH this animal is very easily 
 distinguished from the horse at first sight, yet, 
 upon a closer inspection, the similitude between 
 them is very striking. They have both a 
 similar outline in the external parts ; the same 
 conformation within. One would be led, from 
 the great resemblance there is between them, 
 to suppose them of the same species ; and that 
 the ass was only a horse degenerated: however, 
 they are perfectly distinct, and there is an in- 
 separable line drawn between them, for the 
 mule they produce is barren. This seems to 
 be the barrier between every species of animals; 
 this keeps them asunder, and preserves the 
 unities of their form. If the mule, or the mon- 
 ster, bred between two animals, whose form 
 nearly approaches, is no longer fertile, we may 
 then conclude, that these animals, however re- 
 sembling, are of different kinds. Nature has 
 providently stopped the fruitfulness of these ill- 
 formed productions, in order to preserve the 
 form of every animal uncontaminated : were 
 it not for this, the races would quickly be mix- 
 ed with each other ; no one kind would pre- 
 serve its original perfection ; every creature 
 would quickly degenerate ; and the world 
 would be stocked with imperfection and de- 
 formity. 
 
 The horse and the ass, therefore, though so 
 nearly approaching in form, are of two distinct 
 kinds, different in their natures ; and were 
 there but one of each kind, both races would 
 
 It is a curious natural fact, that the horse has the sin- 
 gular property of breathing through the nostril only, and 
 not through the mouth ; for, in the severest exercise, the 
 mouth is never seen open, unless the lower jaw be brought 
 down violently by the force of the bit. This may account 
 for the great dilatation of the nostrils after hard running. 
 
 In those vast desert regions, in the most southern parts 
 f Siberia, is found a horse differing in several particu- 
 lars from the common horse, already described. It is 
 said to live in small herds of about twenty each, having 
 
 then be extinguished. Their shapes and their 
 habits may, indeed, be very nearly alike ; but 
 (here is something in every animal, besides its 
 conformation or way of life, that determines its 
 specific nature. Thus there is much greater 
 resemblance between the horse and the ass, 
 than between the sheep and the goat ; and yet 
 the latter produce an animal that is by no 
 means barren, but which quickly reproduces 
 an offspring resembling the sheep; while the 
 mule of the former is marked with certain ste- 
 rility. The goat and the sheep may be there- 
 fore said to be of one kind, although so much 
 unlike in figure ; while the horse and the ass 
 are perfectly distinct, though so closely resem- 
 bling. It has, indeed, been said by Aristotle, 
 that their male is sometimes prolific; this, how- 
 ever, has not been confirmed by any other tes- 
 timony, although there has elapsed a period of 
 near two thousand years to collect the evidence. 
 But what tends to put the subject out of dis- 
 pute, is, that the two animals are found in a 
 state of nature entirely different. The onager, 
 or wild ass, is seen in still greater abundance 
 than the wild horse ; and the peculiarities of its 
 kind are more distinctly marked than in those 
 of the tame one. Had it been a horse degene- 
 rated, the likeness would be stronger between 
 them, the higher we went to the original stock 
 from whence both have been supposed to be 
 sprung. The wild animals of both kinds 
 would, in such a case, resemble each other, 
 
 the manners of the common wild horse, but far exceeding 
 it in swiftness. Its head is large, and forehead flat ; and 
 its teeth are only thirty-eight in number. But the most 
 singular mark of difference is, that the tail is slender, like 
 that of the cow, and destitute of hair for half its length; 
 the lower part only being covered with a long ash-coloured 
 hair. 
 
 b Many parts of this account are extracted from Dau- 
 benton and Buffon ; which I mention here, to avoid trou- 
 bling the reader with a multiplicity of quotations. 
 
221 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 much more than those of the tame kind, upon j 
 whom art has, for a succession of ages, been ' 
 exercising all its force, and producing strange j 
 habits and new alterations. The contrary, j 
 however, obtains, and the wild ass is even 
 more assinine, if I may so express it, than that 
 bred in a state of domestic servitude; and 
 has even a natural aversion to the horse, as 
 the reader will shortly learn. 
 
 The wild ass has, by some writers, been 
 confounded with the zebra, but very impro- 
 perly, for they are of a very different species. 
 The wild ass is not streaked like the zebra, 
 nor is his shape so beautiful; his figure is pret- 
 ty much the same as that of the common ass, 
 except that he is of a brighter colour, and has 
 a white list running from his head to his tail. 
 This animal is found wild in many islands of 
 the Archipelago, particularly in that of Ce- 
 rigo. There are many wild asses in the de- 
 serts of Lybia and Numidia, that run with 
 such amazing swiftness, that scarcely even the 
 coursers of the country can overtake them. 
 When they see a man, they set up a horrid 
 braying, and stop short all together, till he 
 approaches near them ; they then, as if by 
 common consent, fly off with great speed ; and 
 it is upon such occasions that they generally 
 fall into the traps which are previously pre- 
 pared to catch them. The natives take them 
 chiefly upon account of their flesh, which they 
 esteem as delicious eating; and for their skins, 
 of which that kind of leather is made which 
 is called shagreen. 
 
 Olearius relates, that the monarch of Persia 
 invited him on a certain day to be present at 
 an entertainment of a very peculiar nature, 
 which was exhibited in a small building, near 
 the palace, resembling a theatre. After a col- 
 lation of fruits and sweetmeats, more than thir- 
 ty of these wild asses were driven into the 
 area, among which the monarch discharged 
 several shot, and some arrows, and in which 
 he was imitated by some of the rest of his at- 
 tendants. The asses, finding themselves 
 wounded, and no way of escaping, instantly 
 began to attack each other, biting with great 
 fierceness, and braying terribly. In this man- 
 ner they continued their mutual animosity, 
 while the arrows were poured in from above, 
 until they were all killed : upon which they 
 were ordered to be taken, and sent to the 
 
 king's kitchen at Ispahan. The Persians es- 
 teem the flesh of this animal so highly, that 
 its delicacy is even become a proverb among 
 them. What may be the taste of wild ass's 
 flesh, we are unable to say ; but certain it is, 
 that the flesh of the tame ass is the worst that 
 can be obtained, being drier, more tough, and 
 more disagreeable, than horse-flesh. Galen 
 even says that it is very unwholesome. Yet 
 we should not judge hastily upon the different 
 tastes of different people, in the preference 
 they give to certain meats. The climate pro- 
 duces very great changes in the tenderness 
 and the savour of several viands: that beef, 
 for instance, which is so juicy and good in 
 England, is extremely tough and dry when 
 killed under the line ; on the contrary, that 
 pork, which is with us so unpalatable in sum- 
 mer, in the warmer latitudes, where it is al- 
 ways hotter than here, is the finest eating they 
 have, and much preferable to any hog's flesh 
 in Europe. 
 
 The ass, like the horse, was originally im- 
 ported into America by the Spaniards, and 
 afterwards by other nations. That country 
 seems to have been peculiarly favourable to 
 this race of animals ; and, where they have 
 run wild, they have multiplied in such num- 
 bers, that in some places they are become a 
 nuisance. In the kingdom of Quito, the own- 
 ers of the grounds where they are bred, suf- 
 fer all persons to take away as many as they 
 can, on paying a small acknowledgment, in 
 proportion to the number of days their sport 
 lasts. They catch them in the following man- 
 ner. A number of persons go on horseback, 
 and are attended by Indians on foot : when 
 arrived at the proper places, they form a cir- 
 cle, in order to drive them into some valley; 
 where, at full speed, they throw the noose, 
 and endeavour to halter them. Those crea- 
 tures, finding themselves enclosed, make very 
 furious efforts to escape ; and. if only one for- 
 ces his way through, they all follow with an 
 irresistible impetuosity. However, when 
 noosed, the hunters throw them down, and 
 secure them with fetters, and thus leave them 
 till the chase is over. Then, in order to bring 
 them away with greater facility, they pair 
 them with tame beasts of the same kind ; but 
 this is not easily performed, for they are so 
 remarkably fierce that they often hurt the 
 
THE ASS. 
 
 225 
 
 persons who undertake to manage them. 
 They have all the swiftness of horses, and 
 neither declivities nor precipices can retard 
 their career. When attacked, they defend 
 themselves with their heels and mouth with 
 such activity, that, without slackening their 
 pace, they often maim their pursuers. But 
 the most remarkable property in these crea- 
 tures is, that, after carrying their first load, 
 their celerity leaves them, their dangerous fe- 
 rocity is lost, and they soon contract the stu- 
 pid look and dulness peculiar to the assinine 
 species. It is also observable, that these crea- 
 tures will not permit a horse to live among 
 them. They always feed together; and if a 
 horse happens to stray into the place where 
 they graze, they all fall upon him ; and, with- 
 out giving him the liberty of flying, they bite 
 and kick him till they leave him for dead upon 
 the spot. 1 
 
 Such is this animal in its natural state, swift, 
 fierce, and formidable : but, in the state of 
 tameness,the ass presents a very different pic- 
 ture ; the moment his native liberty is repres- 
 sed, he seems entirely to give up all claims 
 to freedom ; and he assumes a patience and 
 submission even humbler than his situation. 
 He is, in a state of tameness, the most gentle 
 and quiet of all animals. He suffers with con- 
 stancy, and, perhaps, with courage, all the ill- 
 treatment that cruelty and caprice are pleased 
 to inflict. He is temperate with regard to the 
 quantity and the quality of his provision. He 
 is contented with the most neglected weeds ; 
 and makes his humble repast upon what the 
 horse and other animals leave behind. If he 
 gives the preference to any vegetable, it is to 
 the plantain; for which he is often seen to neg- 
 lect every other herb in the pasture : but he 
 is chiefly delicate with respect to his water; 
 he drinks only at the clearest brooks, and 
 chiefly those to which he has been accustomed. 
 He drinks as soberly as he eats ; and never, 
 like the horse, dips his nose into the stream. 
 As he is seldom saddled, he frequently rolls 
 himself upon the grass ; and lies down, for 
 this purpose, as often as he has an opportu- 
 nity, without minding what becomes of his 
 burden. He never rolls, like the horse, in 
 the mud ; he even fears to wet his feet ; and 
 
 UJloa, vol. i. p. 316. 
 
 turns out of his way to avoid the dirty parts 
 of a road. 
 
 When very young, the ass is sprightly, and 
 even tolerably handsome ; but he soon loses 
 these qualifications, either by age or bad 
 treatment, and he becomes slow, stupid, and 
 headstrong. He seems to show no ardour, 
 except for the female, having been often 
 known to die after the covering. The she- 
 ass is not less fond of her young than the male 
 is of her; and we are assured that she will 
 cross fire and water to protect or rejoin it. 
 This animal is sometimes not less attached 
 to his owner; by whom he is too often abu- 
 sed. He scents him at a distance, and dis- 
 tinguishes him from others in a crowd ; he 
 knows the ways he has passed, and the pla- 
 ces where he inhabits. 
 
 When overloaded, the ass shows the injus- 
 tice of his master, by hanging down his head 
 and lowering his ears ; when he is too hard 
 pressed, he opens his mouth and draws back 
 his lips, in a very disagreeable manner. If 
 his eyes are covered he will not stir a step ; 
 and, if he is laid down in such a manner, that 
 one eye is covered with the grass while the 
 other is hidden with a stone, or whatever is 
 next at hand, he will continue fixed in the 
 same situation, and he will not so much as 
 attempt to rise to free himself from those slight 
 impediments. He walks, trots, and gallops, 
 like a horse ; but, although he sets out very 
 freely at first, yet he is soon tired ; and then 
 no beating will make him mend his pace. 
 It is in vain that his unmerciful rider exerts 
 his whip or his cudgel; the poor little animal 
 bears it all with patience, and without a groan; 
 and, conscious of his own imbecility, does not 
 offer even to move. 
 
 Notwithstanding the stupid heaviness of his 
 air, he may be educated with as much ease 
 as any other animal ; and several have been 
 brought up to perform, and exhibit as a show. 
 In general, however, the poor animal is entirely 
 neglected. Man despises this humble useful 
 creature, whose efforts are exerted to please 
 him, and whose services are too cheaply pur- 
 chased. The horse is the only favourite, and 
 upon him alone all expense and labour are 
 bestowed. He is fed, attended, and stab ed, 
 while the ass is abandoned to the cruelty of 
 the lowest rustics, or even to the sport of chil- 
 
226 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 dren ; and, instead of gaining by the lessons 
 he receives, is always a loser. He is conduct- 
 ed along by blows ; he is insulted by unneces- 
 sary stripes; he is overloaded by the lazy; 
 and, being generally the property of the poor, 
 he shares with them in their wants and their 
 distresses. Thus this faithful animal, which, 
 were there no horses, weuld be the first of 
 the quadruped kind in our esteem, is now 
 considered as nothing: his properties and 
 qualifications being found in a higher degree 
 elsewhere, he is entirely disregarded; and, 
 from being the second, he i& degraded into one 
 of the most useless of the domestic quadru- 
 peds. 
 
 For this reason, very little care has been 
 taken to improve the breed ; it is suffered to 
 degenerate; and it is probable, that of all 
 other animals this alone is rendered feebler 
 and more diminutive, by being in a state of 
 domestic servitude. The horse, the cow, and 
 thesheep,are rendered larger by the assiduity 
 of man; the ass is suffered to dwindle every 
 generation, and particularly in England, 
 where it is probable that, but for the medi- 
 cinal qualities of its milk, the whole species 
 would have ere now been extinguished. Never- 
 theless, we have good reasons to believe, that, 
 were the same care bestowed on the ass that 
 is spent upon the horse, were the same indus- 
 try used in crossing the breed and improving it, 
 we should see the ass become, from his pre- 
 sent mean state, a very portly and serviceable 
 animal ; we should find him rival the horse in 
 some of his perfections, and exceed him in 
 others. The ass, bulk for bulk, is stronger 
 than the horse ; is more sure-footed ; and 
 though more slow in his motions, he is much 
 less apt to start out of the way. 
 
 The Spaniards, of all people in Europe, 
 seem alone to be acquainted with the value 
 of the ass. They take all proper precautions 
 to improve the breed ; and I have seen a 
 jack-ass, from that country, above fifteen 
 hands high. This animal, however, seems 
 originally a native of Arabia. A warm climate 
 is known to produce the largest and the best ; 
 their size and spirit decline in proportion as 
 they advance into colder regions. 
 
 Though now so common in all parts of 
 England, the ass was entirely lost among us 
 during the reign of Queen Elizabeth. Ho- 
 
 lingshead informs us that our land did yield 
 no asses.* However, there are accounts of 
 their being common in England before that 
 time. In Sweden, they are at present a sort 
 of rarity; nor does it appear by the last his- 
 tory of Norway, that they have yet reached 
 that country. It is in the hotter climates alone 
 that we are to look for the original of this 
 serviceable creature. In Guinea, they are lar- 
 ger and more beautiful than even the horses 
 of the same country. In Persia, they have 
 two kinds; one of which is used for burdens, 
 being slow and heavy ; the other, which is 
 kept for the saddle, being smooth, stately, and 
 nimble. They are managed as horses, only 
 that the rider sits nearer the crupper, and 
 they are taught to amble like them. They 
 generally cleave their nostrils to give them 
 more room for breathing, and many of these 
 are sold for forty or fifty pounds. 
 
 The ass is a much more hardy animal than 
 the horse, and liable to fewer diseases. Of 
 all animals covered with hair, he is the least 
 subject to vermin, for he has no lice, probably 
 owing to the dry ness and the hardness of his 
 skin. Like the horse, he is three or four 
 years in coining to perfection ; he lives till 
 twenty or twenty-five ; sleeps much less than 
 the horse ; and never lies down for that pur- 
 pose, unless very much tired. The she-ass 
 goes above eleven months with young, and 
 never brings forth more than one at a time. 
 The mule may be engendered either between 
 a horse and a she-ass, or between a jack-ass 
 and a mare. The latter breed is every way 
 preferable, being larger, stronger, and better 
 shaped. It is not yet well known whether 
 the animal called the Gimerro be one of these 
 kinds ; or, as is asserted, bred between the 
 ass and the bull. While naturalists affirm the 
 impossibility of this mixture, the natives of the 
 alpine countries, where this c^iimal is bred, as 
 strongly insist upon its reality. The common 
 mule is very healthy, and will live above 
 thirty years, being found very serviceable in 
 carrying burdens, particularly in mountainous 
 and stony places, where horses are not so 
 sure-footed. The siz<> and strength of our 
 asses is at present greatly improved by the 
 importation of Spanish jack-asses ; and it is 
 
 _^___ _ . ,i m- 
 
 British Zoology, vol. i. p. 11. 
 
THE ZEBRA. 
 
 227 
 
 probable we may come in time to equal the 
 Spaniards in breeding them, where it is not 
 uncommon to give fifty or sixty guineas for a 
 mule; and, indeed, in some mountainous coun- 
 tries, the inhabitants cannot well do without 
 them. Their manner of going down the 
 precipices of the Alps, or the Andes, is very 
 extraordinary ; and with it we will conclude 
 their history. In these passages, on one side, 
 are steep eminences, and, on the other, fright- 
 ful abysses ; and, as they generally follow the 
 direction of the mountain, the road, instead 
 of lying in a level, forms at every little dis- 
 tance steep declivities, of several hundred 
 yards downward. These can only be de- 
 scended by mules; and the animal itself seems 
 sensible of the danger, and the caution that 
 is to be used in such descents. When they 
 come to the edge of one of these descents, 
 they stop, without being checked by the rider; 
 and, if he inadvertently attempts to spur them 
 on, they continue immoveable. They seem 
 all this time ruminating on the danger that lies 
 before them, and preparing themselves for 
 the encounter. They not only attentively 
 view the road, but tremble and snort at the 
 danger. Having prepared for the descent, 
 
 they place their fore-feet in a posture as if 
 they were stopping themselves ; they then 
 also put their hinder-feet together, but a little 
 forward, as if they were going to lie down. 
 In this attitude, having taken as it were a 
 survey of the road, they slide down with the 
 swiftness of a meteor. In the mean time, all 
 the rider has to do is to keep himself fast on 
 the saddle, without checking the rein, for the 
 least motion is sufficient to disorder the 
 equilibrium of the mule ; in which case they 
 both unavoidably perish. But their address, 
 in this rapid descent, is truly wonderful ; for, 
 in their swiftest motion, when they seem to 
 have lost all government of themselves, they 
 follow exactly the different windings of the 
 road, as if they had previously settled in their 
 minds the route they were to follow, and taken 
 every precaution for their safety. In this 
 journey, the natives, who are placed along the 
 sides of the mountains, and hold by the roots 
 of the trees, animate the beast with shouts, 
 and encourage him to perseverance. Some 
 mules,after being long used to these journeys, 
 acquire a kind of reputation for their safety 
 and skill ; and their value rises in proportion 
 to their fame.* 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 OF THE ZEBRA. 
 
 THERE are but three animals of the horse 
 kind. The horse, which is the most stately 
 and courageous : the ass, which is the most 
 patient and humble ; and the zebra, which is 
 the most beautiful, but at the same time the 
 wildest animal in nature. Nothing can exceed 
 the delicate regularity of this creature's colour, 
 or the lustrous smoothness of its skin; but, on 
 the other hand, nothing can be more timid or 
 more untameable. 
 
 It is chiefly a native of the southern parts 
 of Africa; and there are whole herds of them 
 often seen feeding in those extensive plains 
 that lie towards the Cape of Good Hope. 
 However, their watchfulness is such, that they 
 will suffer nothing to come near them, and 
 
 their swiftness so great, that they readily 
 leave every pursuer far behind. The zebra, 
 in shape, rather resembles the mule than the 
 horse or the ass. It is rather less than the 
 former, and yet larger than the latter. Its ears 
 are not so long as those of the ass, and yet 
 not so small as in the horse kind Like the 
 ass, its head is large, its back straight, its legs 
 finely placed, and its tail tufted at the end; 
 like the horse, its skin is smooth and close, 
 and its hind quarters round and fleshy. But 
 its greatest beauty lies in the amazing regu- 
 larity and elegance of its colours. In the 
 male, they are white and brown ; in the 
 
 Ulloa, vol. i. 
 
 2Q 
 
228 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 female, white and black. These colours are 
 disposed in alternate stripes over the whole 
 body, and with such exactness and symmetry, 
 that one would think Nature had employed 
 the rule and compass to paint them. These 
 stripes, which, like so many ribbands, are 
 laid all over its body, are narrow, parallel, 
 and exactly separated from each other. It is 
 not here as in other party-coloured animals, 
 where the tints are blended into each other; 
 every stripe here is perfectly distinct, and pre- 
 serves its colour round the body, or the limb, 
 without any diminution. In this manner are 
 the head, the body, the thighs, the legs, and 
 even the tail and the ears, beautifully streak- 
 ed, so that at a little distance owe would be 
 apt t> suppose that the animal was dressed 
 out by art, and not thus admirably adorned 
 by nature. 
 
 In the male zebra, the head is striped with 
 fine bands of black and white, which in a man- 
 ner centre in the forehead. The ears are va- 
 riegated with a white and dusky brown. The 
 neck has broad stripes of the same dark brown 
 running round it, leaving narrow white stripes 
 between. The body is striped also across the 
 back with broad bands, leaving narrower 
 spaces of white between them, and ending in 
 points at the sides of the belly, which is w hite, 
 except a black line pectinated on each side, 
 reaching from between the fore-legs, along the 
 middle of the belly, two-thirds of its length. 
 There is a line of separation between the 
 trunk of the body and the hinder quarters, 
 on each side ; behind which, on the rump, 
 is a plat of narrow stripes, joined together by 
 a stripe down the middle, to the end of the 
 tail. The colours are different in the female ; 
 and in none the stripes seem entirely to agree 
 in form, but in all they are equally distinct; 
 the hair equally smooth and fine ; the white 
 shining and unmixed; and the black,or brown, 
 thick and lustrous. 
 
 Such is the beauty of this creature, that it 
 seems by nature fitted to satisfy the pride and 
 the pleasure of man ; and formed to be taken 
 into his service. Hitherto, however, it ap- 
 pears to have disdained servitude, and neither 
 force nor kindness have been able to wean it 
 from its native independence and ferocity. 
 But this wildness might, perhaps, in time be 
 surmounted : and it is probable, the horse and 
 
 | the ass, when first taken from the forest, were 
 equally obstinate, fierce, and unmanageable. 
 Mr. BufFon informs us that the zebra, from 
 which he took his description, could never be 
 entirely mastered, notwithstanding all the ef- 
 forts which were tried to tame it. They con- 
 tinued, indeed, to mount it, but then with such 
 precautions as evidently showed its fierceness; 
 for two men were obliged to hold the reins, 
 while the third ventured upon its back ; and 
 even then it attempted to kick whenever it 
 perceived any person approaching. That 
 which is now in the Queen's menagerie, at 
 Buckingham-Gate, is even more vicious than 
 the former; and the keeper who shows it, 
 takes care to inform the spectators of its un- 
 governable nature. Upon my attempting to 
 approach it, it seemed quite terrified, and was 
 preparing to kick, appearing as wild as if just 
 caught, although taken extremely young, and 
 used with the utmost indulgence. Yet still it 
 is most probable that this animal, by time and 
 assiduity, could be brought under subjection. 
 As it resembles the horse in form, without all 
 doubt it has a similitude of nature, and only 
 requires the efforts of an industrious and skil- 
 ful nation, to be added to the number of our 
 domestics. It is not now known what were 
 the pains and dangers which were first under- 
 gone to reclaim the breed of horses from sa- 
 vage ferocity ; these, no doubt, made an equal 
 opposition; but, by being opposed by an in- 
 dustrious and enterprising race of mankind, 
 their spirit was at last subdued, and their free- 
 dom restrained. It is otherwise with regard 
 to the zebra ; it is the native of countries 
 where the human inhabitants are but little 
 raised above the quadruped. The natives of 
 Angola, or Caffraria, have no other idea of 
 advantage from horses but as they are good 
 for food ; neither the fine stature of the Ara- 
 bian courser, nor the delicate colourings of 
 the zebra, have any allurements to a race of 
 people, who only consider the quantity of 
 flesh, and not its conformation. The delicacy 
 of the zebra's shape, or the painted elegance 
 of its form, are no more regarded by such, 
 than by the lion that makes it his prey. For 
 this reason, therefore, the zebra may hi- 
 therto have continued wild, because it is the 
 native of a country where there have been no 
 successive efforts made to reclaim it. All 
 
THE ZEBRA. 
 
 229 
 
 pursuits that have been hitherto instituted 
 against it, were rather aguinst its life than its 
 liberty : the animal has thus been long taught 
 to consider man as its most mortal enemy ; and 
 it is not to be wondered that it refuses to yield 
 obedience where it has so seldom experienced 
 mercy. There is a kind of knowledge in all 
 animals, that I have often considered with 
 amazement; which is, that they seem perfectly 
 to know their enemies, and to avoid them. In- 
 stinct, indeed, may teach the deer to fly from the 
 jion ; or the mouse to avoid the cat ; but what 
 is the principle that teaches the dog to attack the 
 dog-butcher wherever he sees him ? In China, 
 where the killing and dressing dogs is a trade, 
 whenever one of these people moves out, all 
 "the dogs of the village, or the street, are sure 
 to be after him. This I should hardly have 
 believed, but that I have seen more than one 
 instance of it among ourselves. I have seen a 
 poor fellow, who made a practice of stealing 
 and killing dogs for their skins, pursued in full 
 cry for three or four streets together, by all the 
 bolder breed of dogs, while the weaker flew 
 from his presence with affright. How these 
 animuls could thus find out their enemy, and 
 pursue him, appears, I own, unaccountable ; but 
 such is the fact; and it not only obtains in 
 dogs, but in several other animals, though per- 
 haps to a less degree. This, very probably, 
 may have been, in some measure, a cause that 
 has hitherto kept the zebra in its state of na- 
 tural wildness ; and in which it may continue, 
 till kinder treatment shall have reconciled it 
 to its pursuers. 
 
 It is very likely, therefore, as a more civilized 
 people are now placed at the Cape of Good 
 Hope, which is the chief place where this ani- 
 mal is found, that we may have them tamed 
 and rendered serviceable. Nor is its extraor- 
 dinary beauty the only motive we have for 
 wishing this animal among the number of our 
 dependents: its swiftness is said to surpass that 
 of all others ; so that the speed of a zebra is 
 become a proverb among the Spaniards and 
 Portuguese. It stands better upon its legs also 
 than a horse ; and is, consequently, stronger in 
 proportion. Thus, if by proper care we im- 
 proved the breed, as we have in other instances, 
 we should probably in time to come have a 
 race as large as the horse, as fleet, as strong, 
 and much more beautiful. 
 
 The zebra, as was said, is chiefly a native 
 
 of the Cape of Good Hope. It is also found 
 in the kingdom of Angola ; and, as we are 
 assured by Lopez, in several provinces also of 
 Barbary. In those boundless forests it has 
 nothing to restrain its liberty ; it is too shy to 
 be caught in traps, and, therefore, seldom taken 
 alive. It would seem, therefore, that none of 
 them have ever been brought into Europe, 
 that were caught sufficiently young, so as to 
 be untinctured by their original state of wild- 
 ness. The Portuguese, indeed, pretend that 
 they have been able to tame them, and that 
 they have sent four from Africa to Lisbon, 
 which were so far brought under, as to draw 
 the King's coach : a they add, that the person 
 who sent them over, had the office of notary 
 conferred upon him for his reward, which was 
 to remain to him and his posterity for ever : 
 but I do not find this confirmed by any per- 
 son who says he saw them. Of those which 
 were sent to Brazil, not one could be tamed ; 
 they would permit one man only to approach 
 them ; they were tied up very short ; and one 
 of them, which had by some means got loose, 
 actually killed his groom, having bitten him 
 to death. 1 " Notwithstanding this, I believe, 
 were the zebra taken up very young, and pro- 
 perly treated, it might be rendered as tame as 
 another animal ; and Merolla, who saw many 
 of them, asserts, that, when tamed, which he 
 speaks of as being common enough, they are 
 not less estimable for their swiftness than their 
 beauty. 
 
 This animal, which is neither to be found 
 in Europe, Asia, or America, is nevertheless 
 very easily fed. That which came over into 
 England some years ago, would eat almost 
 any thing, such as bread, meat, and tobacco ; 
 that which is now among us, subsists entirely 
 upon hay. As it so nearly resembles the horse 
 and the ass in structure, so it probably brings 
 forth annually as they do. The noise they 
 make is neither like that of a horse or an ass, 
 but more resembling the confused barking of a 
 mastiff dog. In the two which I saw, there 
 was a circumstance that seems to have escaped 
 naturalists ; which is, that the skin hangs loose 
 below the jaw upon the neck, in a kind of 
 dewlap, which takes away much from the ge- 
 neral beauty. But whether this be a natural 
 
 Dapper. b Pyrard. torn. ii. p. 376. 
 2Q 
 
230 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 or accidental blemish, I will not take upon me 
 to determine. 
 
 These animals are often sent as presents to 
 the princes of the East. We are told, that one 
 of the governors of Batavia gave a zebra, 
 which had been sent to him from Africa, to 
 the Emperor of Japan, for which he received, 
 
 a Navendorf. 
 
 b In addition to these species may be mentioned the 
 Quagga. This animal, which used to be confounded 
 with the zebra, is now acknowledged to be quite distinct. 
 It inhabits the same parts of Africa as the zebra, but is 
 always found in separate herds, never associating with it. 
 It is about the same size as the zebra, but less elegant in 
 its shape and marks ; and is of a much more docile na- 
 
 ns an equivalent for the company, a present, 
 to the value of sixty thousand crowns." Teller 
 also relates, that the Great Mogul gave two thou- 
 sand ducats for one of them. And it is frequent 
 with the African ambassadors to the court of 
 Constantinople, to bring some of these animals 
 with them, as presents for the Grand Signior. b 
 
 ture ; the Dutch colonists at the Cape having been said 
 to tame them, and use them for the draught and saddle. 
 Its general colour is of a ferruginous tinge, with brown 
 stripes. These stripes, however, are fewer in number 
 than those of the zebra, and much less elegantly disposed, 
 there being seldom any on the haunches, shoulders, and 
 legs; and, on the hinder parts, they gradually diminish 
 into spots. 
 
RUMINATING ANIMALS. 
 
 231 
 
 OF 
 
 ANIMA1S. 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 OF all animals, those that chew the cud 
 are the most harmless, and the most easily 
 tamed. As they live entirely upon vegetables, 
 it is neither their interest nor their pleasure 
 to make war upon the rest of the brute crea- 
 tion ; content with the pastures where they 
 are placed, they seldom desire to change, 
 while they are furnished with a proper sup- 
 ply ; and, fearing nothing from each other, 
 they generally go in herds for their mutual 
 security. All the fiercest of the carnivorous 
 kinds seek their food in gloomy solitude ; 
 these, on the contrary, range together ; the 
 very meanest of them are found to unite in 
 each other's defence ; and the hare itself is 
 a gregarious animal, in these countries where 
 it has no other enemies but the beasts of the 
 forests to guard against. 
 
 As the food of ruminant animals is entirely 
 of the vegetable kind, and as this is very 
 easily procured, so these animals seem natu- 
 rally more indolent and less artful than those 
 of the carnivorous kinds ; and as their appe- 
 tites are more simple, their instincts seem to 
 be less capable of variation. The fox or the 
 welfare for ever prowling ; their long habits 
 of want give them a degree of sharpness and 
 cunning ; their life is a continued scene of 
 stratagem and escape : but the patient ox, or 
 the deer, enjoy the repast that nature has 
 abundantly provided; certain of subsistence, 
 and content with security. 
 
 AB nature has furnished these animals with 
 
 All quadrupeds that chew the cud have suet instead of 
 the soft fat of other, animals.; ,and they have. the. awkward 
 hahhef rising, *hen in a recumbent ^posture, upon .their 
 biud legs:first. A.cow, whetKshe rises from .the.grouudj 
 
 an appetite for such coarse and simple nutri- 
 ment, so she has enlarged the capacity of the 
 intestines, to take in a greater supply. In the 
 carnivorous kinds, as their food is nourishing 
 and juicy, their stomachs are but small, and 
 their intestines short; but in these, whose 
 pasture is coarse, and where much must be 
 accumulated before any quantity of nourish- 
 ment can be obtained, their stomachs are 
 large and numerous, and their intestines long 
 and muscular. The bowels of a ruminating 
 animal may be considered as an elaboratory, 
 with vessels in it, fitted for various transmu- 
 tations. It requires a long and tedious pro- 
 cess before grass can be transmuted into flesh; 
 and for this purpose, nature, in general, has 
 furnished such animals as feed upon grass 
 with four stomachs, through which the food 
 successively passes and undergoes the proper 
 separations.* 
 
 Of the four stomachs with which ruminant 
 animals are furnished, the first is called the 
 paunch, which receives the food after it has 
 been slightly chewed ; the second is called 
 the honeycomb, and is properly notlu'ng more 
 than a continuation of the former : these two, 
 which are very capacious, the animal fills as 
 fast as it can, and then lies down to ruminate; 
 which may be properly considered as a kind 
 of vomiting without effort or pain. The two 
 stomachs above mentioned being filled with 
 as much as they can contain, and the grass, 
 which was slightly chewed, beginning to swell 
 
 'places herself on the fore-knees, and then lifts up the whole 
 hinder parts. A horse springs up first OB ,his .fore-legs, 
 and then rises up his hinder parts. This may Li w.'i:g 
 /to the different conformation of jhe stomach. 
 
232 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 with the heat of the situation, it dilates the 
 stomachs, and these again contract upon their 
 contents. The aliment, thus squeezed, has 
 but two passages to escape at ; one into the 
 third stomach, which is very narrow ; and the 
 other back, by the gullet, into the routh, 
 which is wider. The greatest quantity, there- 
 fore, is driven back, through the largest aper- 
 ture, into the mouth, to be chewed a second 
 time ; while a small part, and that only the 
 most liquid, is driven into the third stomach, 
 through the orifice which is so small. The 
 food whick is driven to the mouth, and chew- 
 ed a second time, is thus rendered more soft 
 and moist, and becomes at last liquid enough 
 to pass into the conduit that goes to the third 
 stomach, where it undergoes a still farther 
 comminution. In this stomach, which is call- 
 ed the manifold, from the number of its leaves, 
 all which tend to promote digestion, the grass 
 has the appearance of boiled spinage, but not 
 yet sufficiently reduced, so as to make a part 
 of the animal's nourishment ; it requires the 
 operation of the fourth stomach for this pur- 
 pose, where it undergoes a complete macera- 
 tion, and is separated to be turned into chyle. 
 
 But nature has not been less careful in 
 another respect, in fitting the intestines of 
 these animals for their food. In the carnivo- 
 rous kinds they are thin and lean ; but in ru- 
 minating animals they are strong, fleshy, and 
 well covered with fat. Every precaution 
 seems taken that can help their digestion : 
 their stomach is strong and muscular, the more 
 readily to act upon its contents ; their intes- 
 tines are lined with fat, the better to preserre 
 their warmth; and they are extended to a 
 much greater length, so as to extract every 
 part of that nourishment which their vegetable 
 food so scantily supplies. 
 
 In this manner are all quadrupeds of the 
 cow, the sheep, or the deer kind, seen to ru- 
 minate ; being thus furnished with four sto- 
 machs, for the macerating of their food. 
 These, therefore, may most properly be call- 
 ed the ruminant kinds; although there are 
 many others that have this quality in a less 
 observable degree. The rhinoceros, the 
 camel, the horse, the rabbit, the marmotte, 
 and the squirrel, all chew the cud by inter- 
 vals, although they are not furnished with 
 stomachs like the former. But not these 
 
 alone, there are numberless other animals 
 that appear to ruminate ; not only birds, but 
 fishes and insects. Among birds are the 
 pelican, the stork, the heron, the pigeon, and 
 the turtle ; these have a power of disgorging 
 their food to feed their young. Among fishes 
 are lobsters, crabs, and that fish called the 
 dorado. The salmon also is said to be of this 
 number : and, if we may believe Ovid, the 
 scarus likewise ; of which he says," 
 
 Of all the fish that graze beneath the flood, 
 He only ruminates his former food. 
 
 Of insects, the ruminating tribe is still lar- 
 ger; the mole, the cricket, the wasp, the 
 drone, the bee, the grasshopper, and the beetle. 
 All these animals either actually chew the cud, 
 or seem at least to ruminate. They have the 
 stomach composed of muscular fibres, by 
 means whereof the food is ground up and 
 down, in the same manner as in those which 
 are particularly distinguished by the appella- 
 tion of ruminants. 
 
 But not these alone ; men themselves have 
 been often known to ruminate, and some even 
 with pleasure. The accounts of these calami- 
 ties, for such I must consider them, incident 
 to our fellow-creatures, are not very pleasant 
 to read : yet I must transcribe a short one, as 
 given us by Slare, in the Philosophical Trans- 
 actions, as it may, in some measure, show the 
 satisfaction which the lower tribes of animals 
 enjoy while they ruminate. The man in ques- 
 tion was a citizen of Bristol, of about twenty 
 years of age, and, what seemed more extra- 
 ordinary still, of a ruminating family, for his 
 father was frequently subject to the same in- 
 firmity, or amusement, as he himself perhaps 
 would call it. This young man usually began 
 to chew his meat over again within about a 
 quarter of an hour after eating. His ruminat- 
 ing after a full meal generally lasted about an 
 hour and a half; nor could he sleep until this 
 task was performed. The victuals, upon the 
 return, tasted even more pleasantly than at 
 first ; and returned as if they had been beaten 
 up in a mortar. If he ate a variety of things, 
 that which he ate first came up again first; 
 and if this return was interrupted for any time, 
 
 a At contra herbosa pisces laxantur arena, 
 Ut scarus epastus solus qui ruminant escas. 
 
THE COW KIND, 
 
 233 
 
 it produced sickness and disorder, and he \\ ;is 
 never well till it returned. Instances of this 
 kind, however, are rare and accidental; and 
 it is happy for mankind that they are so. Of 
 -all other animals, we spend the least time in 
 
 eating; this is one of the great distinctions 
 between us and the brute creation; and eat- 
 ing is a pleasure of so low a kind, that none 
 but such as are nearly allied to the quadru- 
 ped, desire its prolongation. 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 OF QUADRUPEDS OF THE COW KIND." 
 
 OF all ruminant animals, those of the cow 
 kind deserve the first rank, both for their size, 
 their beauty, and their services. The horse 
 is more properly an animal belonging to the 
 rich ; the sheep chiefly thrives in a flock, and 
 requires attendance ; but the cow is more es- 
 pecially the poor man's pride, his riches, and 
 nis support. There are many of our peasan- 
 try that have no other possession but a cow ; 
 and even of the advantages resulting from this 
 most useful creature, the poor are but the no- 
 minal possessors. Its flesh they cannot pre- 
 tend to taste, since then their whole riches are 
 at once destroyed ; its calf they are obliged 
 to fatten for sale, since veal is a delicacy 
 they could not make any pretensions to; its 
 very milk is wrought into butter and cheese 
 for the tables of their masters; while they have 
 no share, even in their own possession, but 
 the choice of their market. I cannot bear to 
 hear the rich crying out for liberty while they 
 thus starve their fellow-creatures, and feed 
 them up with an imaginary good, while they 
 ^taonopolize the real benefits of nature. 
 
 In those countries where the men are un- 
 der better subordination, this excellent ani- 
 mal is of more general advantage. In Ger- 
 many, Poland, and Switzerland, every pea- 
 sant keeps two or three cows, not for the 
 benefit of his master, but for himself. The 
 meanest of the peasants there kills one cow 
 at least for his own table, which he salts and 
 hangs up, and thus preserves as a delicacy 
 all the year round. There is scarcely a cot- 
 tage in those countries that is not hung round 
 
 " The animals of this kind have the horns hollow, 
 onootli, turned outwards and forwards, in a semicircular 
 
 with these marks of hospitality ; and whicn 
 often make the owner better contented with 
 hunger, since he has it in his power to be 
 luxurious when he thinks proper. A piece 
 of beef hung up there is consid-ered as an ele- 
 gant piece of furniture, which, though seldom 
 touched, at least argues the possessor's opu- 
 lence and ease. But it is very different, for 
 some years past, in this country, where our 
 lower rustics at least are utterly unable to pur- 
 chase meat any part of the year, and by them 
 even butter is considered as an article of ex- 
 travagance. 
 
 The climate and pasture of Great Britain, 
 however, are excellently adapted to this ani- 
 mal's moderate nature; and the verdure and 
 the fertility of our plains are perfectly suited 
 to the manner of its feeding ; for wanting the 
 upper fore-teeth, it loves to graze on a high 
 rich pasture. This animal seems but little 
 regardful of the quality of its food, provided 
 it be supplied in sufficient abundance ; it makes 
 no particular distinction in the choice of its 
 herbage, but indiscriminately and hastily de- 
 vours the proper quantity. For this reason, 
 in our pastures, where the grass is rather high 
 than succulent, more flourishing than nutri- 
 tious, the cow thrives admirably ; and there 
 is no part of Europe where the tame animal 
 grows larger, yields more milk, or more rea- 
 dily fattens, than with us. 
 
 Our pastures supply them with abundance, 
 and they in return enrich the pasture ; for, 
 of all animals, the cow seems to give back 
 more than it takes from the soil. The horse 
 
 form ; in the lower jaw there are eight front teeth, but 
 none in the upper : and there are no tusks in either. 
 
234 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 and the sheep are known, in a course of years, 
 to impoverish the ground. The land where 
 they have fed becomes weedy, and the vege- 
 tables coarse and unpalatable ; on the con- 
 trary, the pasture where the cow has been 
 bred, acquires a finer, softer surface, and be- 
 comes every year more beautiful and even. 
 The reason is, that the horse being furnished 
 with fore-teeth in the upper jaw, nips the 
 grass closely, and therefore only chooses that 
 which is the most delicate and tender; the 
 sheep also, though with respect to its teeth 
 formed like the cow, only bites the most suc- 
 culent parts of the herbage : these animals, 
 therefore, leave all the high weeds standing; 
 and while they cut the finer grass too closely, 
 suffer the ranker herbage to vegetate and over- 
 run the pasture. But it is otherwise with the 
 cow : as its teeth cannot come so close to the 
 ground as those of the horse, nor so readily 
 as those of the sheep, which are less, it is 
 obliged to feed upon the tallest vegetables 
 that offer; thus it eats them all down, and in 
 time, levels the surface of the pasture. 
 
 The age of the cow is known by the teeth 
 and horns. This animal is furnished with 
 eight cutting teeth in the lower jaw; at the 
 age often months the two middlemost of these 
 fall out, and are replaced by others that are 
 not so white, but broader; at the age of six- 
 teen months the two next milk-white teeth 
 fall out likewise, and others come up in their 
 room ; thus, at the end of every six months, 
 the creature loses and gains, till at the age of 
 three years all the cutting-teeth are renewed, 
 and then they are long, pretty white, and equal; 
 but in proportion as the animal advances in 
 years, they become irregular and black, their 
 inequalities become smoother, and the animal 
 less capable of chewing its food. Thus the 
 cow often declines from this single cause; 
 for as it is obliged to eat a great deal to sup- 
 port life, and as the smoothness of the teeth 
 makes the difficulty of chewing great, a suffi- 
 cient quantity of food cannot be supplied to 
 the stomach. Thus the poor animal sinks in 
 the midst of plenty, and every year grows lean- 
 er and leaner till it dies. 
 
 The horns are another and. a surer method 
 of determining this animal's age. At three 
 years old, it sheds its horns, and new ones 
 arise in their place, which continue as long as 
 
 it lives ; at four years of age, the cow has 
 small pointed, neat smooth horns, thickest 
 near the head; at five, the horns become 
 larger, and are marked round with the former 
 year's growth. Thus, while the animal con- 
 tinues to live, the horns continue to lengthen ; 
 and every year a new ring is added at the 
 root; so that allowing three years before their 
 appearance, and then reckoning the number 
 of rings, we have, in both together, the ani- 
 mal's age exactly. 
 
 As we have indisputably the best breed of 
 horned cattle of any in Europe, so it was not 
 without the same assiduity that we came to 
 excel in these, a c . in our horses. The breed 
 of cows has been entirely improved by a fo- 
 reign mixture, properly adapted to supply the 
 imperfections of our own. Such as are pure- 
 ly British are far inferior in size to those on 
 many parts of the continent ; but those which 
 we have thus improved by far excel all others. 
 Our Lincolnshire kind derive their size from 
 the Holstein breed : and the large hornless 
 cattle that are bred in some parts of England, 
 came originally from Poland. We were once 
 famous for a wild breed of these animals, but 
 these have long since been worn out ; and 
 perhaps no kingdom in Europe can furnish so 
 few wild animals of all kinds as our own. 
 Cultivation and agriculture are sure to banish 
 these wherever they are found ; and every 
 addition a country receives from art drives 
 away those animals that are only fitted for a 
 state of nature. 
 
 Of all quadrupeds, the cow seems most lia- 
 ble to alteration from its pasture. In the dif- 
 ferent parts of our own country we easily per- 
 ceive the great varieties produced among 
 these animals, by the richness or poverty of 
 the soil. In some they grow to a great bulk ; 
 and I have seen an ox sixteen hands high, 
 which is taller than the general run of our 
 horses. In others, they appear as diminutive ; 
 being not so large as an ass. The breed of 
 the Isle of Man, and most parts of Scotland, 
 is much less in general than in England or 
 Ireland : they are differently shaped also, 
 the dewlap being much smaller, and, as the ex- 
 pression is, the beast has more of the ewe 
 neck. This, till some years ago, was consi- 
 dered in cattle as .1 deformity ; and the cow 
 was chosen, according to Virgil's direction, 
 
THE COW KIND. 
 
 235 
 
 with a large dewlap : however, at present, it 
 is the universal opinion, that -the cow wants 
 in udder what it has in neck ; and the larger 
 the dewlap, the smaller is the quantity of its 
 milk. Our graziers now, therefore, endea- 
 vour to mix the two breeds ; the large Hoi- 
 stein with the small northern ; and from both 
 results that tine milch breed, which excels 
 the cattle of any other part of the world. 
 
 This difference, arising from pasture, is 
 more observable in other countries than in 
 our own. The cow kind is to be found in al- 
 most every part of the world, large in propor- 
 tion to the richness of the pasture; and small 
 as the animal is stinted in its food. Thus 
 Africa is remarkable for the largest and the 
 smallest cattle of this kind ; as is also India, 
 Poland, Switzerland, and several other parts 
 of Europe. Among the Eluth Tartars, where 
 the pastures are remarkably rich and nou- 
 rishing, the cow becomes so large that he 
 must be a tall man who can reach the tip of 
 its shoulder. On the contrary, in France, 
 where the animal is stinted in its food, and 
 driven from the most flourishing pastures, it 
 greatly degenerates. 
 
 But the differences in the size of this ani- 
 mal are not so remarkable as those which are 
 found in its form, its hair, and its horns. The 
 difference is so very extraordinary in many 
 of them, that they have been even considered 
 as a different kind of creature, and names 
 have been given them as a distinct species, 
 when in reality they are all the same. 3 In 
 this manner the urus and the bison have been 
 considered, from the variety in their make, to 
 be distinct in their production ; but they are 
 all, in fact, the descendants of one common 
 stock, as they have that certain mark of u:iity, 
 they breed and propagate among each other. 
 Naturalists have, therefore, laboured under 
 an obvious error, when, because of the ex- 
 treme bulk of the urus. or because of the lump 
 upon the back of tho bison, they assigned them 
 different places in the creation, and separated 
 a class of animals which was really united. 
 It is true, the horse and the ass do not differ 
 so much in form, as the cow and the bison; 
 nevertheless, the former are distinct animals, 
 as their breed is marked with sterility ; the 
 
 Buffon, vol. xxiii. n. 78. 
 NO. 5!i & 22. 
 
 latter are animals of the same kind, as their 
 breed is fruitful, and a race of animals is pro- 
 duced, in which the hump belonging to the 
 bison is soon worn away. The differences, 
 therefore, between the cow, the urus, and the 
 bison, are merely accidental. The same ca- 
 price in nature that has given horns to some 
 cows, and denied them to others, may also 
 have given the bison a hump, or increased 
 the bulk of the urus ; it may have given the 
 one a mane, or denied a sufficiency of hair to 
 the other. 
 
 But before we proceed farther, it may be 
 proper to describe these varieties, which have 
 been thus taken for distinct kinds. 1 " The urus, 
 or wild bull, is chiefly to be met with in the 
 province of Lithuania; and grows to a size 
 that scarcely any other animal, except the 
 elephant, is ifound to equal. It is quite black, 
 except a stripe mixed with white, that runs 
 from the neck to the tail, along the top of the 
 back ; the horns are short, thick, and strong; 
 the eyes are fierce and fiery ; the forehead is 
 adorned with a kind of garland of black curl- 
 ed hair, and some of them are found to have 
 beards of the same; the neck is short and 
 strong; and the skin has an odour of musk. 
 The female, though not so big as the male, 
 exceeds the largest of our bulls in size; never- 
 theless, her udder and teats are so small, that 
 they can scarcely be perceived. Upon the 
 whole, however, this animal resembles the 
 tame one very exactly, except in some trifling 
 varieties, which his state of wildness, or the 
 richness of the pastures where he is found, 
 may easily have produced. 
 
 The bison, which is another variety of the 
 cow kind, differs from the rest, in having a 
 lump between its shoulders. These animals 
 are of various kind ; some very large, others 
 as diminutively little. In general, to regard 
 this animal's fore-parts, he nas somewhat the 
 look of a lion, with a long shaggy mane, and 
 a beard under his chin ; his head is little, his 
 eyes red and fiery, with a furious look; the 
 forehead is large, and the horns so big, and 
 so far asunder, that three men might often sit 
 between them. On the middle of the back 
 there grows a bunch almost as high as that of 
 a camel, covered with hair, and which is con- 
 
 b This description is chiefly taken from Klein. 
 2R 
 
236 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 sidered as a great delicacy by those that hunt 
 him. There is no pursuing him with safety, 
 except in forests where there are trees large 
 enough to hide the hunters. He is generally 
 taken by pit-falls: the inhabitants of those 
 countries where heis found wild, digging holes 
 in the ground, and covering them over with 
 boughs of trees and grass; then provoking the 
 bison to pursue them, they get on the oppo- 
 site side of the pit-fall, while the furious ani- 
 mal, running head foremost, falls into the pit 
 prepared for him, and is there quickly over- 
 come and slain. 
 
 Besides these real distinctions in the cow 
 kind, there have been many others made, that 
 appear to be in name only. Thus the bona- 
 BUS, of which naturalists have given us long 
 descriptions, is supposed by Klein and BufTon 
 to be no more than another name for the bison, 
 as the descriptions given of them by the an- 
 cients coincide. The bubalus also of the an- 
 cients, which some have supposed to belong 
 to the cow kind, Buffon places among the 
 lower class of ruminant quadrupeds, as it most 
 resembles them in size, shape, and the figure 
 of its horns. Of all the varieties, therefore, 
 of the cow kind, there are but two that are 
 really distinct ; namely, the cow and the buf- 
 falo: these two are separated by nature; they 
 seem to bear an antipathy to each other; they 
 avoid each other, and may be considered as 
 much removed as the horse is from the ass or 
 the zebra. When, therefore, we have de- 
 scribed the varieties of the cow kind, we shall 
 pass on to the buffalo, which, being a differ- 
 ent animal, requires a separate history. 
 
 There is scarcely a part of the world, as 
 was said before, in which the cow is not found 
 in some one of its varieties ; either large, like 
 the urus, or humped, as the bison ; with 
 straighthorns, or bending,inverted backwards, 
 or turning sideways to the cheek, like those 
 of the ram; and, in many countries, they are 
 found without any horns whatsoever. But, to 
 be more particular, beginning at the north, 
 the few kine which subsist in Iceland, are with- 
 out horns, although of the same race originally 
 with ours. The size of these is rather rela- 
 tive to the gooduesa of the pasture, than the 
 warmth or coldness of the climate. The 
 Dutch frequently bring great quantities of 
 lean cattle from Denmark, which they fatten 
 
 on their own rich grounds. These are in 
 j general of a larger size than their own natural 
 breed ; and they fatten very easily. The 
 cattle of the Ukraine, where the pasture is 
 excellent, become very fat, and are consider- 
 ed as one of the largest breeds of Europe. 
 In Switzerland, where the mountains are 
 covered with rich nourishing herbage, which 
 is entirely reserved for their kine, these ani- 
 | mals grow to a very large size. On the con- 
 trary, in France, where they get no other 
 grass but what is thought unfit for horses, they 
 dwindle and grow lean. In some parts of 
 Spain the cow grows to a good size : those 
 wild bulls, however, which they pride them- 
 selves so much in combating, are a very mean 
 despicable little animal, and somewhat shaped 
 like one of our cows, with nothing of that pe- 
 culiar sternness of aspect for which our bulls 
 are remarkable. In Barbary, and the pro- 
 vinces of Africa, where the ground is dry, and 
 the pasturage short, the cows are of a very 
 small breed, and give milk in proportion. 
 On the contrary, in Ethiopia, they are of a 
 prodigious bigness. The same holds in Per- 
 sia and Tartary ; where, in some places, they 
 are very small, and, in others, of an amazing 
 stature. It is thus, in almost every part of 
 the world, this animal is found to correspond 
 in size to the quantity of its provision. 
 
 If we examine the form of these animals, 
 as they are found tame, in different regions, 
 we shall find, that the breed of the urus, or 
 those without a hump, chiefly occupies the 
 cold and the temperate zones, and is not so 
 much dispersed towards the south. On the 
 contrary, the breed of the bison, or the ani- 
 mal with a hump, is found in all the southern 
 parts of the world ; throughout the vast con- 
 tinent of India; throughout Africa, from mount 
 Atlas to the Cape of Good Hope. In all 
 these countries, the bison seems chiefly to pre- 
 vail ; where they are found to have a smooth 
 soft hair, are very nimble of foot, and in some 
 measure supply the want of horses. The bi- 
 son breed is also more expert and docile than 
 ours ; many of them, when they carry burdens, 
 bend their knees to take them up, or set them 
 down : they are treated, therefore, by the na- 
 tives of those countries, with a degree of ten- 
 derness and care equal to their utility; and 
 the respect for tnem in India has degenerated 
 
THE COW KIND. 
 
 237 
 
 even into blind adoration. But it is among j 
 the Hottentots where these animals are chiefly j 
 esteemed, as being more than commonly ser- 
 viceable. They are their fellow domestics, the 
 companions of their pleasures and fatigues ; 
 the cow is at once the Hottentot's protector 
 and servant, assists him in attending his flocks, 
 and guarding them against every invader : 
 while the sheep are grazing, the faithful backely, 
 as this kind of cow is called, stands or grazes 
 beside them ; still, however, attentive to the 
 looks of its master, the backely flies round the 
 field, herds in the sheep that are straying, 
 obliges them to keep within proper limits, and 
 shows no mercy to robbers, or even strangers, 
 who attempt to plunder. But it is not the 
 plunderers of the flock alone, but even the 
 enemies of the nation, that these backelies arc 
 taught to combat. Every army of Hottentots 
 is furnished with a proper herd of these, which 
 are let loose against the enemy, when the oc- 
 casion is most convenient. Being thus sent 
 forward, they overturn all before them ; they 
 strike every opposer down with their horns, 
 and trample upon them with their feet ; and 
 thus often procure their masters an easy vic- 
 tory, even before they have attempted to strike 
 a blow. An animal so serviceable, it may be 
 supposed, is not without its reward. The 
 backely lives in the same cottage with its 
 master, and, by long habit, gains an affection 
 for him ; and in proportion as the man ap- 
 proaches to the brute, so the brute seems to 
 attain even to some share of human sagacity. 
 The Hottentot and his backely thus mutually 
 assist each other; and when the latter happens 
 to die, a new one is chosen to succeed him, by 
 a counsel of the old men of the village. The 
 new hackely is then joined with one of the 
 veterans of his own kind, from whom he learns 
 his art, becomes social and diligent, and is 
 taken for life into human friendship and pro- 
 tection. 
 
 The bisons, or cows with a hump, are found 
 to differ very much from each other in the 
 several parts of the world where they are found. 
 The wild ones of this kind, as with us, are 
 much larger than the tame. Some have horns, 
 and some are without any ; some have them 
 depressed, and some raised in such a manner 
 that they are used as weapons of annoyance or 
 defence ; some are extremely large, and others 
 among them, such as the zebu, or Barbary cow, 
 
 are very small. They are all, however, equally 
 docile and gentle when tamed; and, in general, 
 furnished with a fine lustrous soft hair, more 
 beautiful than that of our own breed ; their 
 hump is also of different sizes, in some weigh- 
 ing from forty to fit'ty pounds, in others less : 
 it is not, however, to be considered as a part 
 necessarily belonging to the animal; and pro- 
 bably it might be cut away without much in- 
 jury : it resembles a gristly fat; and, as I am 
 assured, cuts and tastes somewhat like a dress- 
 ed udder. The bisons of Malabar, Abyssinia, 
 and Madagascar, are of the great kind, as the 
 pastures there are plentiful. Those of Arabia 
 Petraea, and most parts of Africa, are small, 
 and of the zebu or little kind. In America, 
 especially towards the north, the bison is well 
 known. The American bison, how ever, is found 
 to be rather less than that of the ancient con- 
 tinent ; its hair is longer and thicker, its beard 
 more remarkable, and its hide more lustrous 
 and soft. There are many of them brought up 
 tame in Carolina ; however, their wild dispo- 
 sitions still seem to continue, for they break 
 through all fences to get into the corn-fin Ids, 
 and lead the whole tame herd after them, 
 wherever they penetrate. They breed also 
 with the tame kinds originally brought over 
 from Europe; and thus produce a race peculiar 
 to that country. 
 
 From all this it appears," that naturalists 
 have given various names to animals in reality 
 the same, and only differing in some few acci- 
 dental circumstances. The wild cow and the 
 tame, the animal belonging to Europe, and 
 that of Asia, Africa, and America, the bonasus 
 and the urus, the bison and the zebu, are all 
 one and the same, propagate among each other, 
 and, in the course of a few generations, the 
 hump wears away, and scarcely any vestiges 
 of savage fierceness are found to remain. Of 
 all animals, therefore, except man alone, the 
 cow seems most extensively propagated, its 
 nature seems equally capable of the rigours of 
 heat and cold. It is an inhabitant as well of 
 the frozen fields of Iceland, as the burning 
 deserts of Lybia. It seems an ancient inmate 
 in every climate, domestic and tame in those 
 countries which have been civilized, savage 
 and wild in the countries which are less peopled, 
 but capable of being made useful in all ; able 
 
 Buffon, vol. xxiii. p. 130. 
 2 R* 
 
238 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 to defend itself in a state of nature against the 
 most powerful enemy of the forest ; and only 
 subordinate to man, whose force it has ex- 
 perienced, and whose aid it at last seems to re- 
 quire. However wild the calves are, which 
 are taken from the dam in a savage state, either 
 in Africa or Asia, they soon become humble, 
 patient, and familiar ; and man may be con- 
 sidered in those countries, as almost helpless 
 without their assistance. Other animals pre- 
 serve their nature or their form with inflexible 
 perseverance ; but these, in every respect, suit 
 themselves to the appetites and conveniences 
 of mankind ; and as their shapes are found to 
 alter, so also does their nature ; in no animal 
 is there seen a greater variety of kinds, and in 
 none a more humble and pliant disposition. 
 
 THE BUFFALO. 
 
 IF we should compare the shape of our com- 
 mon cow with that of the bison, the difference 
 will appear very great. The shaggy mane of 
 the latter, the beard, the curled forehead, the 
 inverted horns, the broad breast, and the nar- 
 row hinder parts, give it the appearance rather 
 of a lion than a cow ; and fit it more for a state 
 of war with mankind, than a state of servitude. 
 Yet, notwithstanding these appearances, both 
 animals are found to be the same ; or at least 
 so nearly allied, that they breed among each 
 other, and propagate a race that continues the 
 kind. 
 
 On the other hand, if we compare the buf- 
 falo with our common cow, no two animals 
 can be more nearly alike, either in their form 
 or their nature ; both equally submissive to the 
 yoke, both often living under the same roof, 
 and employed in the same domestic services ; 
 the make and the turn of their bodies so much 
 alike, that it requires a close attention to dis- 
 tinguish them : and yet, after all this, no two 
 animals can be more distinct, or seem to have 
 stronger antipathies to each other." Were 
 there but one of each kind remaining, it is pro- 
 bable the race of both would shortly be extinct. 
 However, such is the fixed aversion formed 
 between these creatures, that the cow refuses 
 to breed with the buffalo, which it nearly re- 
 sembles ; while it is known to propagate with 
 
 Buffon. 
 
 the bison, to which it has, in point of form, but 
 a very distant similitude. 
 
 The buffalo is, upon the whole, by no means 
 so beautiful a creature as the cow ; his figure is 
 more clumsy and awkward; his air is wilder; 
 and he carries his head lower, and nearer the 
 ground ; his limbs are less fleshy, and his tail 
 more naked of hair ; his body is shorter and 
 thicker than that of the cow kind ; his legs are 
 higher ; his head smaller ; his horns not so 
 round, black, and compressed, with a bunch 
 of curled hair hanging down between them ; 
 his skin is also harder and thicker, more black 
 and less furnished with hair ; his flesh, w hich 
 is hard and blackish, is not only disagreeable 
 to the taste, but likewise to tin smell. The 
 milk of the female is by no means so good as 
 that of the cow ; it is however produced in 
 great abundance. In the warm countries, al- 
 most all their cheese is made of the milk of the 
 buffalo; and they supply butter also in large 
 quantities. The veal of the young buffalo 'is 
 not better eating than the beef of the okL 
 The hide of this animal seems to be the- most 
 valuable thing he furnishes. The leather 
 made of it is well known for its thickness, soft- 
 ness, and impenetrability. As these animals 
 are, in general, larger and stronger than the 
 cow, they are usefully employed in agriculture. 
 They are used in drawing burdens, and some- 
 times in carrying them ; being guided by a 
 ring, which is thrust through their nose. Two 
 buffaloes yoked in a waggon, are said to draw 
 more than four strong horses ; as their heads 
 and necks are naturally bent downward, they 
 are thus better fitted for the draught, and the 
 whole weight of their bodies is applied to the 
 carriage that is to be drawn forward. 
 
 From the size and bulk of the buffalo, we 
 may be easily led to conclude that he is a native 
 of the warmer climates. The largest quadru- 
 peds are generally found in the torrid zone ; 
 and the buffalo is inferior, in point of size, only 
 to the elephant, the rhinoceros, or the hippo- 
 potamus. The camelopard or the camel may 
 indeed be taller, but they are neither so long, 
 nor near so corpulent. Accordingly, we find 
 this animal wild in many parts of India ; and 
 tamed also, wherever the natives have occasion 
 for his services. The wild buffaloes are very 
 dangerous animals, and are often found to gore 
 travellers to death, and then trample them 
 with their feet, until they have entirely mangled 
 
THE COW KIND. 
 
 239 
 
 the whole body : however, in the woods they 
 are not so much to be feared as in the plains, 
 because in the violence of their pursuit their 
 large horus are apt to be entangled in the 
 brtnch.es of the trees, which gives those who 
 have been surprised by them time to escape 
 the danger. There is scarcely any other me- 
 thod of avoiding their pursuit; they run with 
 great swiftness; they overturn a tree of mo- 
 derate growth; and are such swimmers, as to 
 cross the largest rivers without any difficulty. 
 In this manner, like all other large animals of 
 the torrid zone, they are very fond of the wa- 
 ter; and, in the midst of their pursuit, often 
 plunge in, in order to cool themselves. The 
 negroes of Guinea, and the Indians of Mala- 
 bar, where buffaloes are in great abundance, 
 take great delight in hunting and destroying 
 them : however, they never attempt to face 
 the buffalo openly ; but, generally climbing 
 up the tree, shoot at him from thence, and do 
 not come down till they find they have effec- 
 tually despatched him. When they are tamed, 
 no animal can be more patient or humble; 
 and though by no means so docile as the cow 
 kind, yet they go through domestic drudgeries 
 with more strength and perseverance. 
 
 Although these animals be chiefly found in 
 the torrid zone, yet they are bred in several 
 parts of Europe, particularly in Italy, where 
 they make the food and the riches of the poor. 
 The female produces but one at a time, in 
 the same manner as the cow ; but they are 
 very different in the times of gestation; for 
 the cow, as we know, goes but nine months; 
 whereas the buffalo continues pregnant for 
 twelve. They are all afraid of fire ; and, per- 
 haps, in consequence of this, have an aver- 
 sion to red colours, that resemble the colour 
 of flame: it is said, that in those countries 
 where they are found in plenty, no person 
 dares to dress in scarlet. In general they are 
 inoffensive animals, if undisturbed ; as indeed 
 all those which feed upon grass are found to 
 be ; but when they are wounded, or when 
 even but fired at, nothing then can stop their 
 fury; they then turn up the ground with their 
 fore-feet, bellow much louder and more ter- 
 ribly than the bull, and make at the object of 
 their resentment with ungovernable rage. 
 It is happy, in such circumstances, if the per- 
 son they pursue has a wall to escape over, or 
 
 some such obstacle ; otherwise they soon 
 overtake, and instantly destroy him. It is 
 remarkable, however, that although their 
 horns are so very formidable, they in general 
 rrtnke more use of their feet in combat, and 
 nther tread their enemies to death than gore 
 them. 
 
 Having thus gone through the history of 
 these animals, it may be proper to observe, 
 that no names have been more indiscriminate- 
 ly used than those of the bull, the urus, the 
 bison, and the buffalo. It therefore becomes 
 such as would have distinct ideas of each, to 
 be careful in separating the kinds, the one 
 from the other, allowing the cow for the stan- 
 dard of all. The urus, whether of the large 
 enormous kind of Lithuania, or the smaller 
 race of Spain, whether with long or short horns, 
 whether with or without long hair in the fore- 
 head, is every way the same with what our 
 common breed was before they were taken 
 from the forest, and reduced to a state of ser- 
 vitude. The bison, and all its varieties, which 
 are known by a hump between the shoulders, 
 is also to be ranked in the same class. This 
 animal, whether with crooked or with straight 
 horns, whether they be turned towards the 
 cheek, or totally wanting, whether it be large 
 or diminutive, whatever be its colour, or what- 
 ever the length of its hair, whether called the 
 bonasus by some, or the bubalus by others, 
 is but a variety of the cow kind, with whom 
 it breeds, and with whom of consequence it 
 has the closest connexion. Lastly, the buf- 
 falo, though shaped much more like the cow, 
 is a distinct kind by itself, that never mixes 
 with any of the former; that goes twelve 
 months with young, whereas the cow goes 
 but nine ; that testifies an aversion to the lat- 
 ter; and, though bred under the same roof, 
 or feeding in the same pasture, has always 
 kept separate; and makes a distinct race in 
 all parts of the world. These two kinds are 
 supposed, to be the only real varieties in the 
 cow kind, of which naturalists have given so 
 many varieties. With respect to some cir- 
 cumstances mentioned by travellers, such as 
 that of many kinds defending themselves by 
 voiding their dung against their pursuers; 
 this is a practice which they have in common 
 with other timid creatures when pursued, and 
 arises rather from fear than a desire of defence. 
 
210 
 
 ANIMALS OF THE 
 
 The musky smell also by which some have 
 been distinguished, is found common to many 
 of these kinds, in a state of nature; and does 
 not properly make the characteristic marks 
 of any. The particular kind of noise also, 
 which some of them are known to make, 
 which rather resembles grunting than bel- 
 lowing or lowing, is but a savage variety, 
 which many wild animals have, and yef lose 
 when brought into a state of tameness. For 
 these reasons, Mr. Buflfon, whom I have fol- 
 lowed in this description, is of opinion, that 
 the zebu, or little African cow, and the grunt- 
 ing, or Siberian cow, are but different races 
 of the -bison ; as the shape of the horns, or the 
 length of the hair, are never properly charac- 
 teristic marks of any animal, but are found 
 to vary with climate, food, and cultivation. 
 
 In this manner the number of animals of the 
 cow kind, which naturalists have extended to 
 eight or ten sorts, are reduced to two ; and as 
 the utmost deference is paid to the opinion 
 of Mr. Buffon in this particular, I have taken 
 him for my guide. Nevertheless, there is 
 an animal of the cow kind, which neither he, 
 nor any other naturalist that I know of, has 
 hitherto described, yet which makes a very 
 distinct class, and may be added as a third 
 species. 
 
 This animal was shown some years ago in 
 London, and seemed to unite many of the cha- 
 racteristics of the cow and the hog ; having 
 the head, the horns, and the tail, of the former; 
 with the bristles, the colour, and the grunting, 
 of the latter. It was about the size of an ass, 
 but broader and thicker; the colour resem- 
 
 bling that of a hog, and the hair bristly, as in 
 that animal. The hair upon the body was 
 thin, as in the hog; and a row of bristles ran 
 along the spine, rather shorter and softer than 
 in the hog kind. The head was rather larger 
 than that of a cow ; the teeth were entirely 
 resembling those of that animal, and the tongue 
 was rough in like manner. It fed upon hay ; 
 and consequently its internal conformation 
 must have resembled that of the cow kind 
 more than the hog, whose food is always cho- 
 sen of a kind more succulent. The eyes were 
 placed in the head as with the cow, and were 
 pretty nearly of the same colour; the horns 
 were black and flattish, but bent rather back- 
 wards to the neck, as in the goat kind; the 
 neck was short and thick, and the back ra- 
 ther rising in the middle ; it was cloven-foot- 
 ed, like the cow, without those hinder claws 
 that are found in the hog kinds. But the great- 
 est variety of all in this extraordinary crea- 
 ture, which was a female, was, that it had but 
 two teats, and consequently, in that respect, 
 resembled neither of the kinds to w hich, in 
 other circumstances, it bore so strong a si- 
 militude. Whether this animal was a distinct 
 kind, or a monster, I will not prelend to say . 
 it was shown under the name of the bonasus; 
 and it was said, by the person who showed it. 
 to have come from India : but no credit is to 
 be given to interested ignorance ; the person 
 only wanted to make the animal appear as 
 extraordinary as possible; and I believe 
 would scarcely scruple a lie or two to increase 
 that wonder in us, by which he found the 
 means of living. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 OF ANIMALS OF THE SHEEP AND GOAT KIND. 8 
 
 AS no two animals are found entirely the 
 same, so it is not to be expected that any two 
 races of animals should exactly correspond in 
 
 * In the sheep kind the horns are hollow, wrinkled, pe- 
 rennial, bent backwards and outwards, into a circular or 
 spiral form, and generally placed at the sides of the head ; 
 in the lower jaw there are eight front teeth, but none in 
 the upper ; there are no canine teeth in either. In the 
 
 every particular. The goat and the sheep a: 
 apparently different in the form of thei r hndie 
 in their covering, and in their horns. The 
 
 goat the horns are hollow, rough, compressed, and rise 
 somewhat erect, from the top of the hea.l, > ! bend back- 
 wards ; there are eight front fpeth in tlu- me 
 in the upper, and no canine teeth in either ; the chin i 
 bearded. 
 
lA'orfolk Breed . '.Hertfordshire Breed. 
 
SHEEP AND GOAT KIND 
 
 211 
 
 may, from hence, be considered as two different 
 kin Is uir i i-'-gard to all common and domes- 
 tic purposes. But if we co ne to examine 
 them closer, and observe their internal con- 
 formation, no two animals can be more alike; 
 their feet, tlvir four stomachs, their suet, their 
 app;'tit -, all are entirely the same, and show 
 the similitude between them; but what makes 
 a much stronger connexion is, that they pro- 
 pa-jate with each other. The buck-goat is 
 found to produce with the ewe an ani.nal that, 
 in two or tiiree generations, returns to the 
 sheep, and seems to retain no marks of its 
 ancient progenitor." The sheep and the goat, 
 therefore, may be considered as belonging to 
 one family ; and were the whole races reduced 
 to one of each, they would quickly replenish 
 the earth with their kind. 
 
 If we we examine the sheep and goat inter- 
 nally, we shall find, as was said, that their con- 
 formation is entirely the same ; nor is their 
 structurevery remote from that of the cow kind, 
 which they resemble in their hoofs, and in 
 their chewing the cud. Indeed, all ruminant 
 animals are internally very much alike. The 
 goat, the sheep, or the deer, exhibit to the eye 
 of the anatomist the same parts in miniature 
 which the cow or the bison exhibited in the 
 great. But the differences between those 
 animals are, nevertheless, sufficiently apparent. 
 Nature has obviously marked the distinctions 
 between the cow and the sheep kind, by their 
 form and size ; and they are also distinguished 
 from those of the deer kind, by never shedding 
 the horns. Indeed, the form and figure of 
 these animals, if there were nothing else, would 
 seldom fail of guiding us to the kind ; and we 
 might almost upon sight tell which belongs to 
 the deer kind, and which are to be degraded 
 into that of the goat. However, the annually 
 shedding the horns in the deer, and the per- 
 manence in the sheep, draws a pretty exact 
 line between the kinds ; so that we may hold 
 to this distinction only, and define the sheep 
 and goat kind as ruminant animals of a smaller 
 size, tnat never shed their horns. 
 
 If we consider these harmless and useful 
 animals in one point of view, we shall find that 
 both hive b^en long reclaimed, and brought 
 into a state of domestic servitude. Both seem 
 to require protection from man ; and are, in 
 
 11 Buffon, passim. 
 
 some measure, pleased with his society. The 
 sheep, indeed, is the more serviceable creature 
 of the two ; but the goat has more sensibility 
 and attachment. The attending upon both 
 was once the employment of the wisest and the 
 best of men ; and those have been ever sup- 
 posed the happiest ti ies in which these harm- 
 less creatures were considered as the chief ob- 
 jects of human attention. In the earliest a^es, 
 the goat seemed rather the greater favourite; 
 and, indeed, it continues such, in some coun- 
 tries, to this day among the poor. However, 
 the sheep has long since become the principal 
 object of human care ; while the goat is disre- 
 garded by the generality of it aidund, or 
 become the possession only of the lowest of 
 the people. The sheep, therefore, and its va- 
 rieties, may be considered first ; and the ^oat, 
 with all those of its kind, will then properly 
 follow 
 
 THE SHEEP. 
 
 THOSE animals that take refuge under the 
 protection of man, in a few generations become 
 indolent and helpless. Having lost the habit 
 of self-defence, they seem to lose also the in- 
 stincts of nature. The sheep, in its present 
 domestic state, is, of all animals, the most de- 
 fenceless and inoffensive. With its liberty, it 
 seems to have been deprived of its swiftness 
 and cunning; and what in the ass tni^lit rather 
 be called patience, in the sheep appears to be 
 stupidity. With no one quality to fit it for 
 self-preservation, it makes vain efforts at all. 
 Without, swiftness, it endeavours to fly ; and 
 without strength, sometimes offers to oppose. 
 But these feeble attempts rather incite than 
 repress the insults of every enemy ; and the 
 dog follows the flock with greater delight upon 
 seeing them fly, and attacks them with more 
 fierceness upon their unsupported attempts at 
 resistance. Indeed, they run together in flocks 
 rather with the hopes of losing their single 
 danger in the crowd, than of uniting to repress 
 the attack by numbers. The sheep, therefore, 
 were it exposed it its present state to struggle 
 with its natural enemies of the forest, would 
 soon be extirpated. Loaded with a heavy 
 fleece, deprived of the defence of its horns, and 
 rendered heavy, slow, and feeble, it can have 
 no other safety than what it finds from man. 
 
242 
 
 ANIMALS OF THE 
 
 This animal is now, therefore, obliged to rely 
 solely upon that art for protection, to which it 
 originally owes its degradation. 
 
 But we are not to impute to nature the for- 
 mation of an animal so utterly unprovided 
 against its enemies, and so unfit for defence. 
 The moufflon, which is the sheep in a savage 
 state, is a bold, fleet creature, able to escape 
 from the greater animals by its swiftness, or 
 to oppose the smaller kinds with the arms it 
 has received from nature. It is by human art 
 alone that the sheep has become the tardy de- 
 fenceless creature we find it. Every race of 
 quadrupeds might easily be corrupted by the 
 same allurements by which the sheep has been 
 thus debilitated and depressed. While undis- 
 turbed, and properly supplied, none are found 
 to set any bounds to their appetite. They all 
 pursue their food while able, and continue to 
 graze, till they often die of disorders occasion- 
 ed by too much fatness. But it is very differ- 
 ent with them in a state of nature : they are in 
 the forest surrounded by dangers, and alarmed 
 with unceasing hostilities ; they are pursued 
 every hour from one tract of country to an- 
 other; and spend a great part of their time in 
 attempts to avoid their enemies. Thus con- 
 stantly exercised, and continually practising 
 all the arts of defence and escape, the animal 
 at once preserves its life and native independ- 
 ence, together with its swiftness, and the slen- 
 der agility of its form. 
 
 The sheep, in its servile state, seems to be 
 divested of all inclinations of its own ; and of 
 all animals it appears the most stupid. Every 
 quadruped has a peculiar turn of countenance, 
 a physiognomy, if we may so call it, that gene- 
 rally marks its nature. The sheep seems to 
 have none of those traits that betoken either 
 courage or cunning ; its large eyes, separated 
 from each other, its ears sticking out on each 
 side, and its narrow nostrils, all testify the ex- 
 treme simplicity of this creature ; and the po- 
 sition of its horns also, show that nature de- 
 signed the sheep rather for flight than combat. 
 It appears a large mass of flesh, supported 
 upon four small straight legs, ill fitted for car- 
 rying such a burden ; its motions are awk- 
 ward, it is easily fatigued, and often sinks un- 
 der the weight of its own corpulency. In 
 proportion as these marks of human transfor- 
 mation are more numerous, the animal becomes 
 more helpless 'and stupid. Those which live 
 
 upon a more fertile pasture, and grow fat, 
 become entirely feeble ; those that want horns 
 are found more dull and heavy than the rest ;" 
 those whose fleeces are longest and finest are 
 most subject to a variety of disorders ; and, in 
 short, whatever changes have been wrought 
 in this animal by the industry of man are entire- 
 ly calculated for human advantage, and not for 
 that of the creature itself. It might require a 
 succession of ages before the sheep could be 
 restored to its primitive state of activity, so as 
 to become a mafch for its pursuers of the 
 forest. 
 
 The goat, which it resembles in so many 
 other respects, is much its superior. The one 
 has its particular attachment, sees danger, and 
 generally contrives to escape it ; but the other 
 is timid without a cause, and secure when real 
 danger approaches. Nor is the sheep, when 
 bred up tame in the house, and familiarized 
 with its keepers, less obstinately absurd : from 
 being dull and timid, it then acquires a degree 
 of port familiarity: buts with its head, becomes 
 mischievous, and shows itself every way un- 
 worthy of being singled out from the rest of 
 the flock. Thus it seems rather formed for 
 slavery than friendship ; and framed more for 
 the necessities than the amusements of man* 
 kind. There is but one instance in which the 
 sheep shows any attachment to its keeper ; 
 and fhat is seen rather on the continent than 
 among us in Great Britain. What I allude to 
 is, their following the sound of the shepherd's 
 pipe. Before I had seen them trained in this 
 manner I had no conception of those descrip- 
 tions 4n the old pastoral poets, of the shepherd 
 leading his flock from one country to another. 
 As I had been used only to see these harmless 
 creatures driven before their keepers, I sup- 
 posed that all the rest was but invention ; but 
 in many parts of the Alps, and even some pro- 
 vinces of France, the shepherd and his pipe are 
 still continued with true antique simplicity. 
 The flork is regularly penned every evening, 
 to preserve them from the wolf; and the shep- 
 herd returns homeward at sun-set with his 
 sheep following him, and seemingly plrased 
 with the souiid of the pipe, which is blown 
 with a reed, and resembles the chanter of a 
 bagpipe. In this manner, in those countries 
 that still continue poor, the Arcadian life is 
 
 Daubenton upon the Sheep 
 
SHEEP AND GOAT KIND. 
 
 243 
 
 preserved in all its former purity ; but in coun- 
 tries where a greater inequality of condition 
 prevails, the shepherd is generally some poor 
 wretch, wiio attends a flock from which he is 
 to derive no benefits, and only guards those 
 luxuries which he is not fated to share. 
 
 It does not appear, from early writers, that 
 the sheep was bred in Britain ; and it was not 
 till several ages after this animal was cultivated, 
 that the woollen manufacture was carried on 
 among us. a That valuable branch of business 
 lay for a considerable time in foreign hands ; 
 and we were obliged to import the cloth manu- 
 factured from our own materials. There were, 
 notwithstanding, many unavailing efforts 
 among our kings to introduce and preserve 
 the manufacture at home. Henry the Second, 
 by a patent granted to the weavers in London, 
 directed, that if any cloth was found made of 
 a mixture of Spanish wool, it should be burn- 
 ed by the mayor. Such edicts, at length, al- 
 though but slowly, operated towards the estab- 
 lishing this trade among us. The Flemings, 
 who at the revival of arts possessed the art of 
 cloth-working in a superior degree, were in- 
 vited to settle here ; and soon after foreign 
 cloth was prohibited from being worn in Eng- 
 land. In the times of Queen Elizabeth this 
 manufacture received every encouragement ; 
 and many of the inhabitants of the Netherlands 
 being then forced, by the tyranny of Spain, to 
 take refuge in this country, they improved us 
 in those arts, in which we at present excel the 
 rest of the world. Every art, however, has its 
 rise, its meridian, and its decline ; and it is 
 supposed by many, that the woollen manufac- 
 ture has, for some time, been decaying amongst 
 us. The cloth now made is thought to be 
 much worse than that of some years past ; 
 being neither so firm nor fine ; neither so much 
 courted abroad, nor so serviceable at home. 
 
 No country, however, produces such sheep 
 as England ; either with larger fleeces, or bet- 
 ter adapted for the business of clothing. Those 
 of Spain, indeed, are finer, and we generally 
 require some of their wool to work up with 
 our own : but the weight of a Spanish fleece 
 is no way comparable to one of Lincoln or 
 Warwickshire ; and, in those counties it is no 
 uncommon thing to give fifty guineas for a ram. 
 
 a British Zoology, vol. i. p. 23. 
 * Lisle's Husbandry, vol. ii. p. 155. 
 
 The sheep without horns are counted the 
 best sort, because a great part of the animal's 
 nourishment is supposed to go up into the 
 horns. 1 ' Sheep, like other ruminant animals, 
 want the upper fore-teeth ; but have eight in 
 the lower jaw : two of these drop, and are re- 
 placed at two years old ; four of them are 
 replaced at three years old ; and all at four. 
 The new teeth are easily known from the rest, 
 by their freshness and whiteness. There are 
 some breeds, however, in England, that never 
 change their teeth at all ; these the shepherds 
 call the leather- mouthed cattle; and, as their 
 teeth are thus long wearing, they are generally 
 supposed to grow old a year or two before the 
 rest. c The sheep brings forth one or two at a 
 time ; and sometimes three or four. The first 
 lamb of an ewe is generally pot-bellied, short 
 and thick, and of less value than those of a se- 
 cond or third production ; the third being sup- 
 posed the best of all. They bear their young five 
 months ; and, by being housed, they bring 
 forth at any time of the year. 
 
 But this animal, in its domestic state, is too 
 well known to require a detail of its peculiar 
 habits, or of the arts which have been used to im- 
 prove the breed. Indeed, in the eye of an obser- 
 ver of nature, every art which tends to render 
 the creature more helpless and useless to itself, 
 may be considered rather as an injury than an 
 improvement ; and if we are to look for this 
 animal in its noblest state, we must seek for it 
 in the African desert, or the extensive plains 
 of Siberia. Among the degenerate descendants 
 of the wild sheep, there have been so many 
 changes wrought, as entirely to disguisfc the 
 kind, and often to mislead the observer. The 
 variety is so great, that scarcely any two coun- 
 tries have their sheep of the same kind ; but 
 there is found a manifest difference in all, either 
 in the size, the covering, the shape, or the horns. 
 
 The woolly sheep, d as it is seen among us, 
 is found only in Europe, and some of the tem- 
 perate provinces of Asia. When transported 
 into warmer countries, either into Florida or 
 Guinea, it loses its wool, and assumes a cover- 
 ing fitted to the climate, becoming hairy and 
 rough ; it there also loses its fertility, and its 
 flesh no longer has the same flavour. In the 
 same manner, in the very cold countries, it 
 
 c Lisle's Husbandry, vol. ii. p. 155. 
 '' Button, vol. xxiii. p. 168. 
 2S 
 
244 
 
 ANIMALS OF THE 
 
 seems equally helpless and a stranger; it still 
 requires the unceasing attention of mankind 
 for its preservation ; and although it is found 
 to subsist, as well in Greenland as in Guinea," 
 yet it seems a natural inhabitant of neither. 
 
 Of the domestic kinds to be found in the 
 different parts of the world, besides our own, 
 which is common in Europe, the first variety 
 is to be seen in Iceland, Muscovy, and the 
 coldest climates of the north. This, which 
 may be called the Iceland sheep, resembles 
 our breed in the form of the body and the 
 tail ; but differs in a very extraordinary man- 
 ner in the number of the horns; being gene- 
 rally found to have four, and sometimes even 
 eight, growing from different parts of the fore- 
 head. These are large and formidable; and 
 the animal seems thus fitted by nature for a 
 state of war : however, it is of the nature of 
 the rest of its kind, being mild, gentle, and 
 timid. Its wool is very different also from 
 that of the common sheep, being long, smooth, 
 and hairy. Its colour is of a dark brown; and 
 under its outward coat of hair it has an inter- 
 nal covering, that rather resembles fur than 
 wool, being fine, short, and soft, 
 i The second variety to be found in this 
 animal, is that of the broad-tailed sheep, so 
 common in Tartary, Arabia, Persia, Barbary, 
 Syria, and Egypt. This sheep is only re- 
 markable for its large and heavy tail, which 
 is often found to weigh from twenty to thirty 
 pounds. It sometimes grows a foot broad, and 
 is obliged to be supported by a small kind of 
 board, that goes upon wheels. This tail is 
 not covered underneath with wool, like the 
 upper part, but is bare ; and the natives, who 
 consider it as a very great delicacy, are very 
 careful in attending and preserving it from in- 
 jury. Mr. Buffon supposes that the fat which 
 falls into the caul in our sheep, goes in these 
 to furnish the tail; and that the rest of the 
 body is from thence deprived of fat in propor- 
 tion. With regard to their fleeces, in the 
 temperate climates, they are, as in our own 
 breed, soft and woolly ; but in the warmer 
 latitudes, they are hairy : yet in both they 
 preserve the enormous size of their tails. 
 
 The third observable variety is that of the 
 sheep called strepaicheros. This animal is a 
 
 Krantz. 
 
 native of the islands of the Archipelago, and 
 only differs from our sheep, in having straight 
 horns, surrounded with a spiral furrow. 
 
 The last variety is that of the Guinea sheep, 
 which is generally found in all the tropical 
 climates, both of Africa and the East Indies. 
 They are of a large size, with a rough hairy 
 skin, short horns, and ears hanging down, 
 with a kind of dewlap under the chin. They 
 differ greatly in form from the rest, and might 
 be considered as animalsof another kind, were 
 they not known to breed with our sheep. 
 These, of all the domestic kinds, seem to 
 approach the nearest to the state of nature. 
 They are larger, stronger, and swifter, than 
 the common race ; and, consequently, better 
 fitted for a precarious forest life. However, 
 they seem to rely, like the rest, on man for 
 support ; being entirely of a domestic nature, 
 and subsisting only in the warmer climates. 
 
 Such are the varieties of this animal, which 
 have been reduced into a state of domestic 
 servitude. These are all capable of produ- 
 cing among each other; all the peculiarities 
 of their form have been made by climate and 
 human cultivation ; and none of them seem 
 sufficiently independent to live in a state of 
 savage nature. They are, therefore, to be 
 considered as a degenerate race, formed by 
 the hand of man, and propagated merely for 
 his benefit. At the same time, while man thus 
 cultivates the domestic kinds, he drives away 
 and destroys the savage race, which are less 
 beneficial, and more headstrong. These, 
 therefore, are to be found in but a very small 
 number, in the most uncultivated countries, 
 where they have been able to subsist by their 
 native swiftness and strength. It is in the 
 more uncultivated parts of Greece, Sardinia, 
 Corsica, and particularly in. the deserts of 
 Tartary, that the moufflon is to be found, that 
 bears all the marks of being, the primitive 
 race; and that has been actually known to 
 breed with the domestic animal. 
 
 The moufflon, or musmon, though covered 
 with hair, bears a stronger similitude to the 
 ram, than to any other animal: like the ram, 
 it has the eyes placed near the horns; arid its 
 ears are shorter than those of the goat; it also 
 resembles the ram in its horns, and in all t'he 
 particular contours of its form. The horns 
 also are alike ; they are of a yellow colour ; 
 
SHEEP AND GOAT KIND. 
 
 245 
 
 they have three sides, as in the ram, and bend 
 backwards in the same manner behind the 
 cars ; the muzzle and the inside of the ears, 
 are of a whitish colour, tinctured with yellow; 
 the other parts of the face are of a brownish 
 gray. The general colour of the hair over 
 the body is of a brown, approaching to that 
 of the red deer. The inside of the thighs and 
 the belly are of a white, tinctured with yellow. 
 The form, upon the whole, seems more made 
 for agility and strength than that of the com- 
 mon sheep ; and the moufflon is actually 
 found to live in a savage state, and maintain 
 itself, either by force or swiftness, against all 
 the animals that live by rapine. Such is its 
 extreme speed, that many have been inclined 
 rather to rank it among the deer kind, than 
 the sheep. But in this they are deceived, as 
 the musmon has a mark that entirely distin- 
 guishes it from that species, being known 
 never to shed its horns. In some these are 
 seen to grow to a surprising size; many of 
 them measuring, in their convolutions, above 
 two ells long. They are of a yellow colour, 
 as was said ; but the older the animal grows, 
 the darker the horns become : wilh these they 
 often maintain very furious battles between 
 each other; and sometimes they are found 
 broken off in such a manner, that the small 
 animals of the forest creep into the cavity for 
 shelter." When the musmon is seen standing 
 on the plain, his fore-legs are always straight, 
 while his hinder legs seem bent under him; 
 but in cases of more active necessity, this 
 seeming deformity is removed, and he moves 
 with great swiftness and agility. The female 
 very much resembles the male of this species, 
 but that she is less, and her horns also are 
 never seen to grow to that prodigious size they 
 are of in the wild ram. Such is the sheep in 
 its savage state ; a bold, noble, arid beautiful 
 animal : but it is not the most beautiful crea- 
 tures that are always found most useful to man. 
 Human industry has therefore destroyed its 
 grace, to improve its utility. 
 
 THE GOAT, 
 
 AND ITS NUMEROUS VARIETIES. 
 
 THERE are some domestic animals that seem 
 as auxiliaries to the more useful sorts ; and 
 
 a Gmelin. as quoted by Buffon. 
 
 that, by ceasing to be the first, are considered 
 as nothing. We have seen the services of the 
 ass slighted, because inferior to those of the 
 horse; and, in the same manner, those of the 
 goat are held cheap, because the sheep so 
 far exceeds it. Were the horse or the sheep 
 removed from nature, the inferior kinds would 
 then be invaluable ; and the same arts would 
 probably be bestowed in perfecting their 
 kinds, that the higher order of animals have 
 experienced. But in their present neglected 
 state, they vary but little from the wild ani- 
 mals of the same kind : man has left them 
 their primitive habits and forms; and the 
 less they owe to his assiduity, the more they 
 receive from nature. 
 
 The goat seems, in every respect, more 
 fitted for a life of savage liberty than the sheep. 1 " 
 It is naturally more lively, and more possess- 
 ed with animal instinct. It easily attaches it-, 
 self to man, and seems sensible of his caress- 
 es. It is also stronger and swifter, more cou- 
 rageous, and more playful, lively, capricious, 
 and vagrant : it is not easily confined to its 
 flock, but chooses its own pastures, and loves 
 to stray remote from the rest. It chiefly de- 
 lights in climbing precipices, in going to the 
 very edge of danger ; it is often seen suspend- 
 ed upon an eminence hanging over the sea, 
 upon a very little base, and even sleeps there 
 in security. Nature has, in some measure, 
 fitted it for traversing these declivities with 
 ease ; the hoof is hollow underneath, with 
 sharp edges, so that it walks as securely on 
 the ridge of a house, as on the level ground. 
 It is a hardy animal, and very easily sustained; 
 for which reason it is chiefly the property of 
 the poor, who have no pastures with which to 
 supply it. Happily, however, it seems better 
 pleased with the neglected wild, than the cul- 
 tivated fields of art; it chooses the healthy 
 mountain, or the shrubby rock ; its favourite 
 food is the tops of boughs, or the tender bark 
 of young trees; it seems less afraid of immo- 
 derate heat, and bears the warm climates bet- 
 ter than the sheep ; it sleeps exposed to the 
 sun, and seems to enjoy its warmest fervors ; 
 neither is it terrified at the storm, or incom- 
 moded by the rain; immoderate cold alone 
 seems to affect it, and is said to produce a 
 
 Buffon. 
 
 2S* 
 
246 
 
 ANIMALS OF THE 
 
 vertigo, with which this animal is sometimes 
 incommoded. The inconstancy of its nature 
 is perceivable in the irregularity of its gait ; 
 it goes forward, stops, runs, approaches, flies, 
 merely from caprice, and with no other seem- 
 ing reason than the extreme vivacity of its 
 disposition. 
 
 There arc proofs of this animal's being na- 
 turally the friend of man; and that the goat 
 seldom resumes its primeval wildness, when 
 once reduced into a state of servitude. In 
 the year 1698, an English vessel happening 
 to touch at the island of Bonavista, two ne- 
 groes came, and offered the sailors as many 
 goats as they chose to take away. Upon the 
 captain's expressing his astonishment at this 
 offer, the negroes assured him that there were 
 but twelve persons in the island, and that the 
 goats were multiplied in such a manner as 
 even to become a nuisance : they added, that 
 instead of giving any trouble to catch them, 
 they followed the few inhabitants that were 
 left with a sort of obstinacy, and rather be- 
 came importunate with their lameness. 
 
 The goat produces but two at a time, and 
 three at the most. But in the warmer climates, 
 although the animal degenerates, and grows 
 less, yet it becomes more fruitful, being gene- 
 rally found to bring forth three, (bur, and live, 
 at a single delivery. The buck is capable of 
 propagating at the age of one year, and the 
 female at seven months ; however, the fruits 
 of this premature generation are weak and de- 
 fective; and their best breeding-time is ge- 
 nerally delayed till the age of two years, or 
 eighteen months at least. One buck is suf- 
 ficient for a hundred and fifty goats; his ap- 
 petites arc excessive: but this ardour brings 
 on a speedy decay, so that he is enervated in 
 four years at most, and even becomes old be- 
 fore he reaches his seventh year. The goat, 
 like the sheep, continues five months with 
 young; and, in some places, bears twice a 
 year. 
 
 The milk of the goat is sweet, nourishing, 
 and medicinal ; not so apt to curdle upon the 
 stomach as that of the cow : and, therefore, 
 preferable to those whose digestion is but 
 weak. The peculiarity of this animal's food 
 gives the milk a ilavour different from that 
 either of the cow or the sheep; for as it ge- 
 nerally feeds upon shrubby pastures, and 
 
 healthy mountains, there is an agreeable mild- 
 ness in the taste, very pleasing to such as are 
 fond of that aliment. In several parts of Ire- 
 land, and the highlands of Scotland, the goat 
 makes the chief possession of the inhabitants. 
 On those mountains, where no other useful 
 animal could find subsistence, the goat con- 
 tinues to glean a sufficient living, and supplies 
 the hardy natives with what they consider as 
 varied luxury. They lie upon beds made of 
 their skins, which are soft, clean, and whole- 
 some ; they live upon their milk, with oat- 
 bread; they convert a part of it into butter, 
 and some into cheese : the flesh, indeed, they 
 seldom taste of, as it is a delicacy which they 
 find too expensive; however, the kid is con- 
 sidered, even by the city epicure, as a great 
 rarity ; and the flesh of the goal, when pro- 
 perly prepared, is ranked by some as no way 
 inferior to venison. In this manner, even in 
 the wildest solitudes, the poor find comforts 
 of which the rich do not think it worth their 
 while to dispossess them : in these mountain- 
 ous retreats, where the landscape presents 
 only a scene of rocks, heaths, and shrubs, that 
 speak the wretchedness of the soil, these sim- 
 ple people have their leasts and their plea- 
 sures ; their faithful flock of goats attends them 
 to these awful solitudes, and furnishes them 
 with all the necessaries of life; while their 
 remote situation happily keeps them ignorant 
 of greater luxury. 
 
 As ihese animals are apt to stray from the 
 flock, no man can attend above fifty of them 
 at a time. They are fattened in the same 
 manner as sheep; but, taking every precau- 
 tion, their flesh is never so good or so sweet, 
 in our climate, a* that of mutton. It is other- 
 wise between the tropics. The mutton there 
 becomes flabby and lean, while the flesh of 
 the goat rather seems to improve; and in 
 some places the latter is cultivated in prefer- 
 ence to the former. We, therefore, find this 
 animal in almost every part of the world, as 
 it seems fitted for the necessities of man in 
 both extremes. Towards the north, where 
 the pasture is coarse and barren, the goat is 
 fitted to find a scanty subsistence; between 
 the tropics, \\ here the heat is excessive, the 
 goat is fitted to hear the climate, and its flesh 
 is found to improve. 
 
 One of the moat remarkable varieties we 
 
SHEEP AND GOAT KIND. 
 
 247 
 
 find in the goat is in that of Natolia. The 
 Natolian goat, or, as Mr. Button calls it, the 
 goat of Jlngora, has the ears longer than ours, 
 and broader in proportion. The male has 
 horns of about the same length with the goat 
 of Europe, but black, and turned very diffe- 
 rently, going out horizontally on each side of 
 the head, and twisted round in the manner of 
 a cork-screw. The horns of the female are 
 shorter, and encircle the ear somewhat like 
 those of the ram. They are of a dazzling 
 white colour, and in all the hair is very long, 
 thick, fine, and glossy ; which, indeed, is the 
 case with almost all the animals of Syria. 
 There are a great number of these animals 
 about Angora, where the inhabitants drive a 
 trade with their hair, which is sold either raw, 
 or manufactured, into all parts of Europe. 
 Nothing can exceed the beauty of the stuffs 
 which are made from the hair of almost all 
 the animals of that country. These are well 
 known among us by the name of camlet. 
 
 A second variety is the Assyrian goat, of 
 Gesner, which is somewhat larger than ours, 
 with ears almost hanging down to the ground, 
 and broad in proportion. 8 The horns, on the 
 contrary, are not above two inches and a 
 half long, black, and bending a little back- 
 wards. The hair is of a fox colour, and un- 
 der the throat there are two excrescences, 
 like the gills of a cock. These animals are 
 chiefly kept round Aleppo for the sake of their 
 milk. They are driven through the streets, 
 and their milk is sold to the inhabitants as 
 they pass along. 
 
 In the third variety may be reckoned the 
 little goat of Africa, which is of the size of a 
 kid, but the hair is as long as that of the or- 
 dinary breed. The horns, which do not ex- 
 ceed the length of a man's finger, are thick, 
 and bend downwards so close to the head 
 that they almost enter the skin. 
 
 There is an animal of this kind at the Cape 
 of Good Hope, called the blue goat, which may 
 be ranked as the fourth variety. It is in 
 shape like the domestic, but much larger, 
 being nearly of the size of a stag. Its hair is 
 very short, and of a delightful blue ; but it 
 
 a M. Sonini assures us, that though the ears of this va- 
 riety are much longer than those of the common goat, 
 they never reach so low as the ground, nor, as has been re- 
 ported, are they ever cropped. 
 
 loses a great deal of its beauty when the ani- 
 mal is dead. It has a very long beard ; but 
 the horns are not so long in proportion as in 
 other goats, being turned spirally, in the man- 
 ner of a cork-screw. It has very long legs, 
 but well proportioned ; and the flesh is very 
 well tasted, but lean. For this reason, in that 
 plentiful country, it is chiefly killed upon ac- 
 count of its skin. It is a very shy animal, and 
 seldom comes near the Dutch settlements; 
 but they are found in great abundance in the 
 more uncultivated parts of the country. Be- 
 sides these, they are found in this extensive 
 region of various colours, and many of them 
 are spotted beautifully, with red, white, and 
 brown. 
 
 In fine, the Juda goat resembles ours in 
 most parts, except in size, it being much small- 
 er. This animal is common in Guinea, An- 
 gola, and all along the coast of Africa ; it is 
 not much larger than the hare, but it is ex- 
 tremely fat, and its flesh admirably tasted. 
 It is in that country universally preferred to 
 mutton. 
 
 These animals seem all of one kind, with 
 very trifling distinctions between them. It 
 is true that they differ in some respects ; such 
 as having neither the same colour, hair, ears, 
 or horns. But it ought to be considered as a 
 rule in natural history, that neither the horns, 
 the colour, the fineness or the length of the 
 hair, nor the position of the ears, are to be 
 considered as making an actual distinction in 
 the kinds. These are accidental varieties, 
 produced by climate and food, which are 
 known to change even in the same animal, and 
 give it a seeming difference of form. When 
 we see the shapes, the inclinations, and the 
 internal conformation of seemingly different 
 creatures nearly the same; and, above all, 
 when we see them producing among each 
 other, we then have no hesitation in pro- 
 nouncing the species, and asserting that these 
 are of the goat kind, with which they are so 
 materially connected. 
 
 But, although these are evidently known to 
 belong to the goat kind, there are others near- 
 ly resembling the goat, of whose kindred we 
 cannot be equally certain. These are such 
 as being found in a state of nature, have not 
 as yet been sufficiently subjected to human 
 observation. Hence it is impossible to deter- 
 
248 
 
 ANIMALS OF THE 
 
 mine with precision to which class they be- 
 long ; whether they be animals of a particular 
 kind, or merely the goat in its state of savage 
 freedom. Were there but one of these wild 
 animals, the inquiry would soon be ended; 
 and we might readily allow it for the parent 
 stock ; but, in the present case, there are two 
 kinds that have almost equal pretensions to 
 this honour; and the claims of which it has 
 been found difficult to determine. The ani- 
 mals in question are the shammoy and the 
 ibex. These both bear very near approach- 
 es to the goat in figure ; have horns that never 
 shed ; and, at the same time, are more diffe- 
 rent from each other than from the animal in 
 question. From which of these two sources 
 our domestic goat is derived, is not easy to 
 settle. Instead, therefore, of entering into 
 the discussion, I will content myself with the 
 result of Mr. Button's inquiries. He is of 
 opinion that the ibex is the principal source ; 
 that our domestic goat is the immediate de- 
 scendant ; and that the shammoy is but a va- 
 riety from that stock, a sort of collateral 
 branch of the same family. His principal rea- 
 son for giving the preference to the ibex, is 
 its having a more masculine figure, large 
 horns, and a large beard ; whereas the sham- 
 moy wants these marks of primitive strength 
 and wildness. He supposes, therefore, in their 
 original savage state, that our goat has taken 
 after the male of the parent stock, and the 
 shammoy after the female ; and that this has 
 produced a variety in these animals, even be- 
 fore they underwent human cultivation. 
 
 However this be, the two animals in ques- 
 tion seem both well fitted for their precarious 
 life, being extremely swift, and capable of 
 running with ease along the ledges of preci- 
 pices, where even the wolf or the fox, though 
 instigated by hunger, dare not pursue them. 
 They are both natives of the Alps, the Pyre- 
 nees, and the mountains of Greece; there 
 they propagate in vast numbers, and continue 
 to exist in spite of the hunter and every beast 
 of prey that is found incessantly to pursue 
 them. 
 
 The ibex resembles the goat in the shape 
 of its body; but differs in the horns, which 
 are much larger. They are bent backward, 
 full of knots ; and it is generally asserted that 
 there is a knot added every year. There 
 
 are some of these found, if we believe Bello- 
 nius, at least two yards long. The ibex has 
 a large black beard, is of a brown colour, 
 with a thick warm coat of hair. There is a 
 streak of black runs along the top of the back ; 
 and the belly and back of the thighs are of a 
 fawn colour. 
 
 The shammoy , a though a wild animal, is very 
 easily tamed, and docile; and to be found 
 only in rocky and mountainous places. It Is 
 about the size of a domestic goat, and resem- 
 bles one in many respects. It is most agree- 
 ably lively, and active beyond expression. 
 The shammoy's hair is short, like that of the 
 doe; in spring it is of an ash colour, in autumn 
 a dun colour, inclining to black, and in winter 
 of a blackish brown. This animal is found in 
 great plenty in the mountains of Dauphiny, 
 of Piedmont, Savoy, Switzerland, and Ger- 
 many. They are peaceful, gentle creatures, 
 and live in society with each other. They 
 are found in flocks of from four to fourscore, 
 and even a hundred, dispersed upon the crags 
 of the mountains. The large males are seen 
 feeding detached from the rest, except in 
 rutting time, when they approach the females, 
 and drive away the young. The time of their 
 coupling is from the beginning of September 
 to the end of October ; and they bring forth 
 in April and March. The young keeps with 
 the dam for about five months, and sometimes 
 longer, if the hunters and the wolves do not 
 separate them. It is asserted that they live 
 between twenty and thirty years Their flesh 
 is good to eat ; and they are found to have 
 ten or twelve pounds of suet, which far sur- 
 passes that of the goat in hardness and good- 
 ness. The shammoy has scarce any cry, as 
 most animals are known to have ; if it has 
 any, it is a kind of feeble bleat, by which the 
 parent calls its young. But in cases of dan- 
 ger, and when it is to warn the rest of the 
 flock, it uses a hissing noise, which is heard 
 at a great distance. For it is to be observed, 
 that this creature is extemely vigilant, and 
 has an eye the quickest and most piercing in 
 nature. Its smell also is not less distinguish- 
 ing. When it sees its enemy distinctly, it 
 stops for a moment; and then, if the person 
 be near, in an instant after it flies off! In the 
 
 Mr. Peroud's account, as quoted by Buflbn 
 
SHEEP AND GOAT KIND 
 
 249 
 
 same manner, by its smell, it can discover a 
 man at half a league distance, and gives the 
 earliest notice. Upon any alarm, therefore, 
 or any apprehensions of danger, the shaminoy 
 begins his hissing note with such force, that 
 the rocks and the forests re-echo to the sound. 
 The first hiss continues as long as the time of 
 one inspiration. In the beginning it is very 
 sharp, and deeper towards the close. The 
 animal having, after this first alarm, reposed 
 a moment, again looks round, and, perceiving 
 the reality of its fears, continues to hiss by 
 intervals, until it has spread the alarm to a 
 very great distance. During this time, it seems 
 in the most violent agitation ; it strikes the 
 ground with its fore-foot, and sometimes with 
 both : it bounds from rock to rock ; it turns 
 and looks round ; it runs to the edge of the 
 precipice; and, still perceiving the enemy, 
 flies with all its speed. The hissing of the 
 male is much louder and sharper than that of 
 the female ; it is performed through the nose ; 
 and is properly no more than a very strong 
 breath driven violently through a small aper- 
 ture. The shamrnoy feeds upon the best 
 herbage, and chooses the most delicate parts 
 of the plants, the flower and the tender buds. 
 It is not less delicate with regard to several 
 aromatic herbs which grow upon the sides of 
 the mountains. It drinks but very little while 
 it feeds upon the succulent herbage, and chews 
 the cud in the intervals of feeding. This ani- 
 mal is greatly admired for the beauty of its 
 eyes, which are round and sparkling, and 
 which mark the warmth of its constitution. 
 Its head is furnished with two small horns, 
 of about half a foot long, of a beautiful black, 
 aiul rising from the forehead, almost betwixt 
 the eyes. These, contrary to what they are 
 found in other animals, instead of going back- 
 wards or sideways, jet out forward, and bend 
 a little, at their extremities, backward, in a 
 small circle, and end in a very sharp point. 
 The ears are placed, in a very elegant man- 
 ner, near the horns ; and there are two stripes 
 of black on each side of the face, the rest 
 beingof a whitish yellow, which never changes. 
 The horn of this animal is often used as the 
 head of a cane. Those of the female are less, 
 and not so much bent ; and some farriers are 
 seen to bleed cattle with them. These ani- 
 mals are so much incommoded by heat, that 
 
 they are never found in summer, except in the 
 caverns of rocks, amidst fragments of unmelt- 
 ed ice, under the shade of high and spreading 
 trees, or of rough and hanging precipices, that 
 face the north, and which keep ofTentirely the 
 rays of the sun. They go to pasture both 
 morning and evening, and seldom during the 
 heat of the day. They run along the rocks 
 with great ease and seeming indifference, and 
 leap from one to another, so that no dogs are 
 able to pursue them. There is nothing more 
 extraordinary than to see them climbing, and 
 descending precipices, that to all other quad- 
 rupeds are inaccessible. They always mount 
 or descend in an oblique direction; and throw 
 themselves down a rock of thirty feet, and 
 light with great security upon some excres- 
 cence or fragment, on the side of the preci- 
 pice, which is just large enough to place their 
 teet upon; they strike the rock, however, in 
 their descent, with their feet, three or four 
 times, to stop the velocity of their motion; 
 and, when they have got upon their base be- 
 low, they at once seem fixed and secure. In 
 fact, to see them jump in this manner, they 
 seem rather to have wings than legs : some, 
 indeed, pretend to say, that they use their 
 horns for climbing, but this wants confirma- 
 tion. Certain it is that their legs alone are 
 formed for this arduous employment, the hind- 
 er being rather longer than the former, and 
 bending in such a manner, that when they 
 descend upon them, they break the force of 
 the fall. It is also asserted, that when they 
 feed, one of them always stands as centinel; 
 but how far this may be true is questionable. 
 For certain, while they feed, there are some 
 of them that keep continually grazing round 
 the rest ; but this is practised among all grega- 
 rious animals ; so that when they see any dan- 
 ger, they warn the rest of the herd of its ap- 
 proach. During the rigours of winter, the 
 shammoy sleeps in the thicker forests, and 
 i feeds upon the shrubs and the buds of the 
 ! pine-tree. It sometimes turns up the snow 
 ! with its foot, to look for herbage, and, where 
 it is green, makes a delicious repast. The 
 more craggy and uneven the forest, the more 
 this animal is pleased with the abode, which 
 thus adds to its security. The hunting the 
 shaminoy is very laborious, and extremely 
 dillicult. The most usual way is to hide be- 
 
250 
 
 ANIMALS OF THE 
 
 hind the clefts of the rocks arid shoot them. 
 This, however, must be done with great pre- 
 caution ; the sportsman must creep for a vast 
 way upon his belly, in silence, and take also 
 the advantage of the wind, which if it blow 
 from him they would instantly perceive. 
 When arrived at a proper distance, he then 
 advances his piece, which is to be rifle-bar- 
 relled, and to carry one ball, and tries his 
 fortune among them. Some also pursue this 
 animal, as they do the stag, by placing proper 
 persons at all the passages of a glade orvalley, 
 and then sending in others to rouze the game. 
 Dogs are quite useless in this chase, as they 
 rather alarm than overtake. Nor is it with- 
 out danger even to the men ; for it often hap- 
 pens that when the animal finds itself over- 
 pressed, it drives at the hunter with its head, 
 and often tumbles him down to the neigh- 
 bouring precipice. This animal cannot go 
 upon ice when smooth; but if there be the least 
 inequalities on its surface, it then bounds along 
 in security, and quickly evades all pursuit. 
 
 The skin of the shammoy was once famous, 
 when tanned, for its softness and warmth; at 
 present, however, since the art of tanning has 
 been brought to greater perfection, the leather 
 called shammoy is made also from those of the 
 tame goat, the sheep, and the deer. Many 
 medicinal virtues also were said to reside in 
 the blood, fat, gall, and the concretion some- 
 times found in the stomach of this animal, 
 called the German bezoar. The fat, mixed 
 with milk, was said to be good in ulcers of 
 the lungs. The gall was said to be useful in 
 strengthening the sight ; the stone, which is 
 generally about the size of a walnut, and 
 blackisli, was formerly in great request for 
 having the same virtues with oriental bezoar. 
 However, in the present enlightened state of 
 physic, all these medicines are quite out of 
 repute ; and although we have the names of 
 several medicines procurable from quadru- 
 
 Feds, yet, except the musk or hartshorn alone, 
 know of none in any degree of reputation. 
 It is true, the fat, the urine, the beak, and 
 even the dung of various animals, may be 
 found efficacious, where better remedies are 
 not to be had ; but they are far surpassed by 
 many at present in use, whose operations we 
 know, and whose virtues are confirmed by 
 repeated experience. 
 
 Such are the quadrupeds that more pecu- 
 liarly belong to the goat kind. Each of 'these, 
 in all probability, can engender and breed 
 with the other; and were the whole race ex- 
 tinguished, except any two, these would be 
 sufficient to replenish the world, and continue 
 the kind. Nature, however, proceeds in her 
 variations by slow and insensible degrees, 
 and scarce draws a firm, distinguished line 
 between any two neighbouring races of ani- 
 mals whatsoever. Thus it is hard to discover 
 where the sheep ends, and the goat begins ; 
 and we shall find it still harder to fix precise- 
 ly the boundaries between the goat kind and 
 the deer. In all transactions from one kind 
 to the other, there are found to be a middle 
 race of animals, that seem to partake of the 
 nature of both, and that can precisely be re- 
 ferred to neither. That race of quadrupeds, 
 called the gazelles, are of this kind ; they are 
 properly neither goat nor deer, arid yet they 
 have many of the marks of both ; they make 
 the shade between these two kinds, and fill 
 up the chasm in nature. 
 
 THE GAZELLES, 
 
 THE Gazelles, of which there are several 
 kinds, can, with propriety, be referred neither 
 to the goat nor the deer; and yet they par- 
 take of both natures. Like the goat, they 
 have hollow horns that never fall, which is 
 otherwise in the deer. They have a gall- 
 bladder, which is found in the goat and not 
 in the deer; and, like that animal, they feed 
 rather upon shrubs than grassy pasture. On 
 the other hand, they resemble the roebuck 
 in size and delicacy of form; they have deep 
 pits under the eyes like that animal; they 
 resemble the roebuck in the colour and 
 nature of their hair; they resemble him in 
 the bunches upon their logs, which only difFer 
 in being upon the fore-legs in these, and on 
 the hind-legs in the other. They seem there- 
 fore, to be of a middle nature between these 
 two kinds ; or, to speak with greater truth 
 and precision, they form a distinct kind by 
 themselves. 
 
 The distinguishing marks of this tribe of 
 animals, by which they differ both from the 
 goat and the deer, are these: their horns are 
 
SHEEP AND GOAT KIND. 
 
 made differently, being annulated or ring- 
 ed round, at the same time that there are 
 longitudinated depressions running from the 
 bottom to the point. They have bunches of 
 hair upon their fore-legs ; they have a streak 
 of black, red, or brown, running along the 
 lower p;jrt of their sides, and three streaks 
 of whitish hair in the internal side of the ear. 
 These are characters that none of them are 
 without; besides these,there are others which, 
 in general, they are found to have, and which 
 are more obvious to the beholder. Of all ani- 
 mals in the world, the gazelle has the most 
 beautiful eye, extremely brilliant, and yet so 
 meek, that all the eastern poets compare the 
 eyes of their mistresses to those of this ani- 
 mal. A gazelle-eyed beauty is considered 
 as the highest compliment that a lover can 
 pay; and, indeed, the Greeks themselves 
 thought it no inelegant piece of flattery to re- 
 semble the eyes of a beautiful woman to those 
 of a cow. The gazelle, for the most part, is 
 more delicately and finely limbed than even 
 the roebuck ; its hair is as short, but finer, 
 and more glossy. Its hinder legs are longer 
 than those before, as in the hare, which gives 
 it greater security in ascending or descend- 
 ing steep places. Their swiftness is equal, if 
 not superior, to that of the roe ; but as the 
 latter bounds forward, so these run along in 
 an even uninterrupted course. Most of them 
 are brown upon the back, white under the 
 belly, with a black stripe separating those 
 colours between. Their tail is of various 
 lengths, but in all covered with pretty long 
 hair; and their earsare beautiful, well-placed, 
 and terminating in a point. They all have a 
 cloven hoof, like the sheep ; they all have 
 permanent horns ; and the female has them 
 smaller than the male. 
 
 Of these animals, Mr. Buffbn makes twelve 
 varieties; which, however, is much fewer 
 than what other naturalists have made them. 
 The first is the gaze/la, properly so called, 
 which is of the size of the roebuck, and very 
 much resembling it in all the proportions of 
 its body, but entirely differing, as was said, 
 in the nature and fashion of the horns, which 
 are black and hollow, like those of the ram 
 or the goat, and never fall. The second he 
 calls the kevel, which is rather less than the 
 former; its eyes also seem larger; and its 
 
 horns, instead of being round, are flatted on 
 the sides, as well in the male as the female. 
 The third he calls i\iecorin, which very much 
 resembles the two former, but that it is still 
 less than either. Its horns also are smaller 
 in proportion, smoother than those of the 
 other two, and the annular prominences be- 
 longing to the kind are scarce discernible, 
 and may be rather called wrinkles than pro- 
 minences. Some of these animals are often 
 seen streaked like the tiger. These three arc 
 supposed to be of the same species. The 
 fourth he calls the zeiran, the horns only of 
 which he has seen ; which, from their size, 
 and the description of travellers, he supposes 
 to belong to a larger kind of the gazelle, 
 found in India and Persia, under that de- 
 nomination. 
 
 The fifth he calls the koba, and the sixth 
 the kob; these two differ from each other 
 only in size, the former being much larger 
 than the latter. The muzzle of these animals 
 is much longer than those of the ordinary 
 gazelle ; the head is differently shaped, and 
 they have no depressions under the eyes. 
 The seventh he calls after its Egyptian name, 
 the algazel; which is shaped pretty much like 
 the ordinary gazelle, except that the horns 
 are much longer, being generally three feet 
 from th 3 point to the insertion; whereas, in 
 the common gazelle, they are not above a 
 foot; they are smaller also, and straighter, 
 till near the extremities, when they turn short, 
 with a very sharp flexure : they are black 
 and smooth, and the annular prominences are 
 scarcely observable. The eighth is called 
 the pazan ; or, by some, the bezoar goat, which 
 greatly resembles the former, except a small 
 variety in their horns; and also with this dif- 
 ference, that as the algazel feeds upon the 
 plains, this is only found in the mountains. 
 They are both inhabitants of the same coun- 
 tries and climates; being found in Egypt, 
 Arabia, and Persia. This last is the animal 
 famous for that concretion in the intestines or 
 stomach, called the oriental be: oar, which was 
 once in such repute all over the world for its 
 medicinal virtues. The word bezoar is sup- 
 posed to take its name either from the pazan 
 or pazar, which is the animal that produces it; 
 or'from a word in the Arabic language, which 
 signifies antidote or counter-poison. It is a stone 
 2T 
 
252 
 
 ANIMALS OF THE 
 
 of a glazed blackish colour, found in the sto- 
 mach, or the intestines of some animal, and 
 brought over to us from the East- Indies. 
 Like all other animal concretions, it is found 
 to have a kind of nucleus, or hard substance 
 Avithin, upon which the external coatings were 
 formed ; for, upon being sawed through, it is 
 seen to have layer over layer, as in an onion. 
 This nucleus is of various kinds; sometimes 
 the buds of a shrub, sometimes a piece of 
 stone, and sometimes a marcasite. This stone 
 is from the size of an acorn to that of a pigeon's 
 egg; the larger the stone, the more valuable 
 it is held; its price increasing, like that of a 
 diamond. There was a time when a stone of 
 four ounces sold in Europe for above two 
 hundred pounds ; but, at present, the price is 
 greatly fallen, and they are in very little es- 
 teem. The bezoar is of various colours; 
 sometimes of a blood colour, sometimes of a 
 pale yellow, and of all the shades between 
 these two. It is generally glossy, smooth, and 
 has a fragrant ^raiel!, like that of ambergris, 
 probably arising from the aromatic vegetables 
 upon which the animal that produces it feeds. 
 It has been given in vertigoes,epilepsies, palpi- 
 tations of the heart, cholic, jaundice ; and in 
 those places, Avhere the dearness and not the 
 value of medicines is consulted, in almost 
 every disorder incident to man. In all, per- 
 haps, it is equally efficacious, acting only as 
 an absorbent powder, and possessing rirtues 
 equal to common chalk, or crabs' claws. Ju- 
 dicious physicians have therefore discarded 
 it; and this celebrated medicine is now chief- 
 ly consumed in countries where the knowledge 
 of Nature has been but little advanced. When 
 this medicine was in its highest reputation, 
 many arts were used to adulterate it; and 
 many countries endeavoured to find out a 
 bezoar of their own. Thus we had Occiden- 
 tal bezoar, brought from America ; German 
 bezoar, which has been mentioned before; 
 cow bezoar, and monkey bezoar. In fact, 
 there is scarce an animal, except of the car- 
 nivorous kinds, that does not produce some 
 of these concretions in the stomach, intestines, 
 kidneys, bladder, and even in the heart. To 
 these ignorance may impute virtues that they 
 do not possess ; experience has found but 
 few cures wrought by their efficacy : but it is 
 well known, that they often prove fatal to the 
 
 animal that bears them. These concretions 
 are generally found in cows, by their practice 
 of licking off their hair, winch gathers in the 
 stomach into the shape of a ball, acquires a 
 surprising degree of hardness, and sometimes 
 a polish like leather. They are often as large 
 as a goose-egg : and when become too large 
 to pass, block up the passage of the food, 
 and the animal dies. The substance of these 
 balls, however, is different from the bezoar 
 mentioned above ; being rather a concretion 
 of hair than oi'stone. There is a bezoar found 
 in the gall-bladder of a boar, and thence cal- 
 led hog bezoar. in very great esteem ; but per- 
 haps with as little justice as any of the former. 
 In short, as we have already observed, there 
 is scarce an animal, or scarce a part of their 
 bodies, in which concretions are not formed; 
 and it is more than probable, as Mr. Buffbn 
 justly remarks, that the bezoar so much in 
 use formerly, was not the production of the 
 pazar, or any one animal only, but that of the 
 whole gazelle kind; who feeding upon odo- 
 riferous herbs and plants, gave this admira- 
 ble fragrance to the accidental concretions 
 which they were found to produce. As this 
 medicine, however, is but little used at pre- 
 sent, our curiosity is much abated as to the 
 cause of its formation. To return, therefore, 
 to the varieties in the gazelle tribe, the ninth 
 is called the ranguer, and is a native of Sene- 
 gal. This differs somewhat in shape and co- 
 lour f. om the rest ; but particularly in the 
 shape of its horns, which are straight near to 
 the points, where they crook forward, pretty 
 much in the same manner as in the shammoy 
 they crook backward. The tenth variety of 
 the gazelle is the antelope, so well known to 
 the English, who have given it the name. 
 This animal is of the size of a roe-buck, arid 
 resembles the gazelle in many particulars, 
 but differs in others : it has deeper eye-pits 
 than the former; the horns are formed diffe- 
 rently also, being about sixteen inches long, 
 almost touching each other at the bottom, and 
 spreading as they rise, so as at their tips to 
 be sixteen inches asunder. They have the 
 annual prominences of their kind, but not so 
 distinguishable as in the gazelle : however, 
 they have a double flexure, which is very 
 remarkable, and serves to distinguish them 
 from all others of their kind. At the root 
 
SHEEP AND GOAT KIND. 
 
 253 
 
 they have a tuft of hair, which is longer than 
 that of any part of the body. Like others of 
 the same kind, the antelope is brown on the 
 back, and white under the belly ; but these 
 colours are not separated by the black streak 
 which is to be found in all the rest of the ga- 
 zelle kinds. There are different sorts of this 
 animal, some with larger horns than others, and 
 others with less. The one which makes the 
 eleventh varietyin the gazelle kind, Mr. Buffon 
 calls the lidme, which has very long horns ; 
 and the other, which is the twelfth and last, 
 he calls the Indian antelope, the horns of which 
 are very small. 
 
 To these may be added three or four varie- 
 ties more, which is not easy to tell whether to 
 refer to the goat or the gazelle, as they equally 
 resemble both. The first of these is theoH&a- 
 /ws,an animal that seems to partake of the mix- 
 ed natures of the cow, the goat, and the deer. 
 It resembles the stag in the size and the figure 
 of its body, and particularly in the shape of its 
 legs. But it has permanent horns, like the 
 goat ; and made entirely like those of the ga- 
 zelle kind. It also resembles that animal in 
 its way of living : however, it differs in the 
 make of its head, being exactly like the cow in 
 the length of its muzzle, and in the disposition 
 of the bones of its skull ; from which similitude 
 it has taken its name. This animal has a nar- 
 row long head ; the eyes are placed very high ; 
 the forehead short and narrow ; the horns per- 
 manent, about a foot long, black, thick, annu- 
 Iated,and the rings of the gazelle kind,remark- 
 bly large ; its shoulders are very high, and it 
 has a kind of bunch on them, that terminates 
 at the neck ; the tail is about a foot long, and 
 tufted with hair at the extremity. The hair 
 of this animal is remarkable in being thicker 
 at the middle than at the root : in all other 
 quadrupeds, except the elk and this, the hair 
 tapers off from the bottom to the point ; but 
 in these, each hair seems to swell in the middle, 
 like a nine-pin. The bubalus also resembles 
 the elk in size, and the colour of its skin ; but 
 these are the only similitudes between them : us 
 the one has a very large branching head of solid 
 horns that are naturally deciduous, the other has 
 black unbranching hollow horns that never fall. 
 The bubalus is common enough in Barbary, 
 and has often been called by the name of the 
 barbary cow, from which animal it differs so 
 widely. It partakes pretty much of the nature 
 
 of the antelope; like that having the hair short, 
 the hide black, the ears pointed, and the flesh 
 good for food. 
 
 The second anomalous animal of the goat- 
 kind, Mr. Buffon calls the condoma. It is sup- 
 posed to be equal in size to the largest stag, 
 but with hollow horns, like those of the goat 
 kind, and with varied flexures, like those of the 
 antelope. They are above three feet long ; 
 and at their extremities about two feet asunder. 
 All along the back there runs a white list, 
 which ends at the insertion of the tail ; another 
 of the same colour crosses this, at the bottom 
 of the neck, which it entirely surrounds : there 
 are two more of the same kind running round 
 the body, one behind the fore-legs, and the 
 other running parallel to it before the hinder. 
 The colour of the rest of the body is grayish, 
 except the belly, which is white : it has also a 
 long gray beard ; and its legs, though long, 
 are well proportioned. 
 
 The third that may be mentioned, he calls 
 the guiba. It resembles the gazelles in every 
 particular, except in the colour of the belly, 
 which, as we have seen, is white in them, but 
 in this is of a deep brown. Its horns also are 
 not marked with annual prominences, but are 
 smooth and polished. It is also remarkable 
 for white lists, on a brown ground, that are 
 disposed along the animal's body, as if it were 
 covered with harness. Like the former it is a 
 native of Africa. 
 
 The African wild goat of Grimmius is the 
 fourth. It is of a dark ash-colour ; and in the 
 middle of the head is a hairy tuft, standing 
 upright ; on both sides, between the eyes and 
 the nose, there are very deep cavities, greater 
 than those of the other kinds, which contain a 
 yellow oily liquor, which coagulates into a 
 black substance, that has a smell betweeen 
 musk and civet. This being taken away, the 
 liquor again runs out, and coagulates, as be- 
 fore. These cavities have no communication 
 with the eyes, and, consequently, this oozing 
 substance can have nothing of the nature of 
 tears. 
 
 To this we may add the chevrotin, or little 
 guinea deer, which is the least of all cloven 
 footed quadrupeds, and perhaps the most beau- 
 tiful ; its legs, at the smallest part, are not 
 much thicker than the shank of a tobacco- 
 pipe ; it is about seven inches high, and about 
 twelve from the point of the nose to the inser- 
 2T* 
 
'254 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 tion of the tail. It is the most delicately shaped 
 animal in the world, being completely formed 
 like a stag in miniature ; except that its horns, 
 when it has any, are more of the gazelle kind, 
 being hollow and annulated in the same man- 
 ner. It has two canine teeth in the upper 
 jaw; in which respect it differs from all other 
 animals of the goat or deer kind, and thus 
 makes a species entirely distinct by itself. 
 This wonderful animal's colour is not less 
 pleasing; the hair, which is short and glossy, be- 
 ing in some of a beautiful yellow, except on the 
 neck and belly, which is white. They are 
 natives of India, Guinea, and the warm cli- 
 mates between the tropics ; and are found in 
 great plenty. But though they are amazingly 
 swift for their size, yet the Negroes often over- 
 take them in the pursuit, and knock them 
 down with their sticks. They may be easily 
 tamed, and then they become familiar and 
 pleasing; but they are of such delicate con- 
 stitutions, that they can bear no climate but 
 the hottest ; and they always perish with the 
 rigours of ours, when they are brought over. 
 The male in Guinea has horns : the female is 
 without any ; as are all the kinds of this ani- 
 mal, to be found either in Java or Ceylon, 
 where they chiefly abound. 
 
 Such is the list of the gazelles; all which 
 pretty nearly resemble the deer in form and 
 delicacy of shape; but have the horns hollow, 
 single, and permanent, like those of the goat. 
 They properly fill up, as has been already 
 observed, the interval between these two 
 kinds of animals; so that it is difficult to tell 
 where the goat ends, and the deer may be 
 said to begin. If we compare the gazelles 
 with each other, we shall find but very slight 
 distinctions between them. The turn or the 
 magnitude of the horns, the different spots 
 on the skin, or a difference of size in each, 
 are chiefly the marks by which their varieties 
 are to be known; but their way of living, 
 their nature, and their peculiar swiftness, all 
 come under one description. 
 
 The gazelles are, in general, inhabitants of 
 the warmer climates ; and contribute, among 
 other embellishments, to add beauty to those 
 forests that are for ever green. They are often 
 seen feeding in herds, on the sides of the 
 mountain, or in the shade of the woods; and 
 fly all together, upon the smallest approaches 
 
 of danger. They bound with such swiftness, 
 and are so very shy, that dogs or men vainly 
 attempt to pursue them. They traverse those 
 precipices with ease and safety, which to every 
 quadruped else are quite impracticable ; nor 
 can any animals but of the winged kind over- 
 take them. Accordingly, in all those countries 
 where they arechiefly found, they are pursued 
 by falcons; and this admirable manner of 
 hunting makes one of the principal amuse- 
 ments of the upper ranks of people all over 
 the East. The Arabians, Persians, and Turks, 
 breed up for this purpose, that kind of hawk 
 called the falcon gentle, with which, when pro- 
 perly trained, they go forth on horseback 
 among the forests and the mountains, the fal- 
 con perching upon the hand of the hunter. 
 Their expedition is conducted with profound 
 silence ; their dogs are taught to hang behind ; 
 while the men, on the fleetest coursers, look 
 round for the game. Whenever they spy a 
 gazelle at the proper distance, they point the 
 falcon to its object, and encourage it to pur- 
 sue. The falcon, with the swiftness of an ar- 
 row, flies to the animal, that, knowing its dan- 
 ger, endeavours, but too late, to escape. The 
 falcon soon coming up with its prey, fixes its 
 talons, one into the animal's cheek, the other 
 into its throat, and deeply wounds it. On the 
 other hand, the gazelle attempts to escape, 
 but is generally wounded too deep to run far. 
 The falcon clings with the utmost persever- 
 ance, nor ever leaves its prey till it falls ; up- 
 on which the hunters from behind approach- 
 ing, take up both, and reward the falcon with 
 the blood of the spoil. They also teach the 
 young ones by applying them to the dead ani- 
 mal\j throat, and accustoming them betimes 
 to fix upon that particular part ; for if it should 
 happen that the falcon fixed upon any other 
 part of the gazelle, either its back or its 
 haunches, the animal would easily escape 
 among the mountains, and the hunter would 
 also lose his falcon. They sometimes also 
 hunt these animals with the ounce. This car- 
 nivorous and fierce creature being made tame 
 and domestic, generally sits on horseback be- 
 hind the hunter, and remains there wilh the 
 utmost composure, until the gazelle is shown ; 
 it is then that it exerts all its arts and fierce- 
 ness ; it does not at once fly at its prey, but 
 approaches slyly, turning and winding about 
 
THE MUSK ANIMAL. 
 
 2.55 
 
 until it comes within the proper distance, when 
 all at once it bounds upon the heedless ani- 
 mul, and instantly kills it, and sucks its blood. 
 If, on tlie other hand, it misses its aim, it rests 
 in its place, without attempting to pursue 
 any farther, but seems ashamed of its own 
 inability. 
 
 There is still another way of taking the ga- 
 zelle, which seems not so certain, nor so amus- 
 ing as either of the former. A tame gazelle 
 is bred up for this purpose, who is taught to 
 join those of its k'md, wherever it perceives 
 them. When the hunter, therefore, perceives 
 a herd of these together, he fixes a noose round 
 the horns of the tame gazelle in such a man- 
 ner, that if the rest but touch it, they are en- 
 
 tangled ; and thus prepared, he sends his ga- 
 zelle among the rest. The tame animal no 
 sooner approaches, but the males of the herd 
 instantly sally forth to oppose him ; and, in 
 butting with their horns, are caught in the 
 noose. In this, both struggling for some time, 
 fall together to the ground ; and, at last, the 
 hunter coining up, disengages the one, and kills 
 the other. Upon the whole, however, these 
 animals, whatever be the arts used to pursue 
 them, are very difficult to be taken. As they 
 are continually subject to alarms from car- 
 nivorous beasts, or from man, they keep chiefly 
 in the most solitary and inaccessible places, 
 and find their only protection from situations 
 of the greatest danger. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 OF THE MUSK ANIMAL. 
 
 THE more we search into nature, the more 
 we shall find how little she is known ; and 
 we shall more than once have occasion to find, 
 that protracted inquiry is more apt to teach us 
 modesty, than to produce information. Al- 
 though the number and nature of quadrupeds 
 at first glance seems very little known ; yet, 
 when we come to examine closer, we find 
 so ne with which we are very pjtrtially ac- 
 qijatrue-d^aacl others thnrt are utterly unknown. 
 There is scarce a cabinet of the curious but 
 what has the spoils of animals, or the horns or 
 th hoofs qf quadrupeds, which do not come 
 within former descriptions. There is scarce a 
 person whose trade is to dress or improve furs, 
 but knows several creatures by their skins, 
 which n > naturalist has hitherto had notice of. 
 But of all quadrupeds, there is none so justly the 
 reproach of natural historians, as that which 
 bears the musk. This perfume, so well known 
 to the elegant, and so very useful in the hands 
 of the physician; a medicine that has for more 
 than a century been imported from the East 
 in great quantities, and during all that time 
 has been improving in its reputation, is, never- 
 theless, so very little understood, that it re- 
 nviins a doubt whether the ani-nal that pro- 
 duces it be a hog, an ox, a goat, or a deer. 
 
 When an animal with which we are so nearly 
 connected, is so utterly unknown, how little 
 must we know of many that are more remote 
 and unserviceable ! Yet naturalists proceed in 
 the same train, enlarging their catalogues and 
 their names, without endeavouring to find out 
 the nature, and fix the precise history of those 
 with which we are very partially acquainted. 
 It is the spirit of the scholars of the present 
 age to be fonder of increasing the bulk of our 
 knowledge, than its utility ; of extending their 
 conquests, than of improving their empire. 
 
 The musk which comes to Europe, is 
 brought over in small bags, about the size of 
 a pigeon's egg, which, when cut open, appear 
 to contain a kind of dusky, reddish substance, 
 like coagulated blood, and which, in large 
 quantities, has a very strong smell ; but, when 
 mixed and diffused, becomes a very agreeable 
 perfume. Indeed, no substance now known 
 in the world has a stronger or a more perma- 
 nent smell. A grain of musk perfumes a 
 whole room ; and its odour continues for some 
 days without diminution. But in a larger 
 quantity it continues for years together ; and 
 seems scarce wasted in its weight, although it 
 has filled the atmosphere to a great distance 
 with its parts. It is particularly used in mcdi- 
 
256 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 cine, in nervous and hysteric disorders ; and 
 is found in such cases to be the most powerful 
 remedy now in use : however, the animal that 
 furnishes this admirable medicine, has been 
 very variously described, and is known but 
 very imperfectly. 
 
 The description given of this animal by 
 Grew, is as follows : " The musk animal is 
 properly neither of the goat nor deer kind, for 
 it has no horns, and it is uncertain whether it 
 ruminates or not ; how r ever, it wants the fore- 
 teeth in the upper jaw, in the same manner as 
 in ruminating animals ; but, at the same time, 
 it has tusks like those of a hog. It is three feet 
 six inches in length, from the head to the tail; 
 and the head is above half a foot long. The 
 fore-part of the head is like that of a gray- 
 hound ; and the ears are three inches long, 
 and erect, like those of a rabbit ; but the tail 
 is not above two inches. It is cloven-footed, 
 like beasts of the goat kind ; the hair on the 
 head and legs is half an inch long, on the belly 
 an inch and a half, and on the back and but- 
 tocks three inches, and proportionably thicker 
 than in any other animal. It is brown and 
 white alternately, from the root to the point ; 
 on the head and thighs it is brown, but under 
 the belly and tail white, and a little curled, 
 especially on the back and belly. On each 
 side of the lower jaw, under the corners of the 
 mouth, there is a tuft of thick hair, which is 
 short and hard, and about three quarters of 
 an inch long. The hair, in general, of this 
 animal, is remarkable for its softness and fine 
 texture ; but what distinguishes it particu- 
 larly are the tusks, which are an inch and 
 a half long, and turn back in the form of 
 a hook ; and more particularly the bag which 
 contains the musk, which is three inches 
 long, two broad, and stands out from the 
 belly an inch and a half. It is a very fear- 
 ful animal, and, therefore, it has long ears ; 
 and the sense of hearing is so quick, that 
 it can discover an enemy at a great dis- 
 tance." 
 
 After so long and circumstantial a descrip- 
 tion of this animal, its nature is but very little 
 known ; nor has any anatomist as yet ex- 
 amined its internal structure ; or been able to 
 inform us whether it be a ruminant animal, or 
 one of the hog kind ; how the musk is formed, 
 
 or whether those bags in which it comes to us 
 be really belonging to the animal, or are only 
 the sophistications of the venders. Iiuif-ed, 
 when we consider the immense quantities of 
 this substance which are consumed in Europe 
 alone, not to mention the East, where it is in 
 still greater repute than here, we can hardly 
 suppose that any one animal can furnish the 
 supply ; and particularly when it must be kill- 
 ed before the bag can be obtained. We are 
 told, it is true, that the musk is often deposited 
 by the animal upon trees and stones, against 
 which it rubs itself when the quantity becomes 
 uneasy ; but it is not in that form which we 
 receive it, but always in what seems to be its 
 own natural bladder. Of these, Taverner 
 brought home near two thousand in one year; 
 and, as the animal is wild, so many must, 
 during that space, have been hunted and taken. 
 But as the creature is represented very shy, 
 and as it is found but in some particular pro- 
 vinces of the East, the wonder is, how its bag 
 should be so cheap, and furnished in such 
 great plenty. The bag in common does not 
 cost (if I do not forget) above a crown by re- 
 tail, and yet this is supposed the only one be- 
 longing to the animal ; and for the obtaining 
 of which, it must have been hunted and killed. 
 The only way of solving this difficulty, is to 
 suppose that these bags are, in a great mea- 
 sure, counterfeit, taken from some other ani- 
 mal, or from some part of the same, filled with 
 its blood, and a very little of the perfume, but 
 enough to impregnate the rest with a strong 
 and permanent odour. It comes to us from 
 different parts of the East ; from China, Ton- 
 quin, Bengal, and often from Muscovy : that 
 of Thibet is reckoned the best, and sells for 
 fourteen shillings an ounce ; that of Muscovy 
 the worst, and sells but for three ; the odour 
 of this, though very strong at first, being quick- 
 ly found to evaporate. Musk was some years 
 ago in the highest request as a perfume, and 
 but little regarded as a medicine ; but at pre- 
 sent its reputation is totally changed; and 
 having been found of great benefit in physic, 
 it is but little regarded for the purposes of 
 elegance. It is thus that things which become 
 necessary, cease to continue pleasing ; and 
 the consciousness of their use, destroys their 
 power of administering delight. 
 
THE DEER KIND. 
 
 257 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 ANIMALS OF THE DEER KIND. 
 
 IF we compare the stag and the bull, as to 
 shape and form, no two animals can be more 
 unlike ; and yet, if we examine their internal 
 structure, we shall find a striking similitude 
 between them. Indeed, their differences, ex- 
 cept to a nice observer, \\ ill scarcely be per- 
 ceivable. All of the de.T kind want the gall- 
 bl.idder ; their kidneys are formed differently ; 
 their spleen is also proportionably larger; their 
 tail is shorter ; and their horns, which are 
 soli I, are renewed every year. Such are the 
 slight internal discriminations between two 
 animals, one of which is among the swiftest, 
 and the other the heaviest of the brute creation. 
 
 The stag is one of those innocent and peace- 
 able animals that seems made to embellish the 
 forest, and animate the solitudes of nature. 
 The easy elegance of his form, the lightness of 
 his motions, those large brandies that seem 
 made rather for the ornament of his head than 
 its defence, the size, the strength, and the swift- 
 ness of tiiis beautiful creature, all sufficiently 
 rank him among the first of quadrupeds, 
 among the most noted objects of human curi- 
 osity. 
 
 The stag, or hart, whose female is called a 
 hind, and the young a calf, differs in the size 
 and in horns from a fallow-deer. He is much 
 larger, and his horns are round ; whereas in 
 the fallow-kind they are broad and palmated. 
 By these the animal's age is known. The first 
 year the stag has no horns, but a horny ex- 
 crescence, which is short, rough, and covered 
 with a thin, hairy skin. The next year the 
 horns are single and straight ; the third year 
 they have two antlers, three the fourth, four 
 the fifth, and five the sixth ; this number is not 
 always certain, for sometimes there are more, 
 and often less. When arrived at the sixth 
 year, the antlers do not always increase : and 
 although the number may amount to six or 
 seven on each side, yet the animal's age is 
 then estimated rather from the size of the ant- 
 lers, and the thickness of the branch which 
 sustains them, than from their variety. These 
 horns, large as they seem, are, notwithstanding, 
 shed every year, and new ones come in their 
 
 place. The old horns are of a firm, solid tex- 
 ture, and usually employed in making handles 
 for knives, and other domestic utensils. But 
 while young, nothing can be more soft or ten- 
 der ; and the animal, as if conscious of his own 
 imbecility at those times, instantly upon shed- 
 ding his former horns, retires from the rest of 
 his fellows, and hides himself in solitudes and 
 thickets, never venturing out to pasture, except 
 by night. During this time, which most usu- 
 ally happens in the spring, the new horns are 
 very painful, and have, a quick sensibility of 
 any external impression. The flies, also, are 
 extremely troublesome to him. When the old 
 horn is fallen off, the new does not begin im- 
 mediately to appear ; but the bones of the skull 
 are seen covered only with a transparent perios- 
 teum or skin, which, as anatomists teach us, 
 covers the bones of all animals. After a short 
 time, however, this skin begins to swell, and to 
 form a soft tumour, which contains a great deal 
 of blood, and which begins to be covered with 
 a downy substance that has the feel of velvet, 
 and appears nearly of the same colour with the 
 rest of the animal's hair. This tumour every 
 day buds forward from the point like the graft 
 of a tree ; and, rising by degrees from the head, 
 shoots out the antlers on either side, so that in 
 a few days, in proportion as the animal is in 
 condition, the whole head is completed. How- 
 ever, as was said above, in the beginning, its 
 consistence is very soft, and has a sort of bark, 
 which is no more than a continuation of the 
 integument of the skull. It is velveted and 
 downy, and every where furnished with blood- 
 vessels, that supply the growing horns with 
 nourish; nent. As they creep along the sides 
 of the branches, the print is marked over the 
 whole surface ; and the larger the blood-vessels, 
 the deeper these marks are found to be : from 
 hence arises the inequality of the surface of the 
 deer's horns ; which, as we see, are furrowed 
 all along the sides, the impressions diminishing 
 towards the point, where the substance is as 
 smooth and as solid as ivory. But it ought to 
 be observed, that this substance, of which the 
 horns are comoosed, begins to harden at the 
 
2. r )8 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 bottom while the upper part remains soft, 
 and still continues growing ; from whence it 
 appears that the horns grow differently in deer 
 from those of sheep or cows ; in which they 
 are always seen to increase from the bottom. 
 However, when the whole head has received 
 its full growth, the extremities then begin to 
 acquire their solidity; the velvet covering, 
 or bark, with its blood-vessels, dry up, and 
 then begin to fall ; and this the animal has- 
 tens, by rubbing its antlers against every tree 
 it meets. In this manner, the whole exter- 
 nal surface being stripped off by degrees, at 
 length the whole head acquires its complete 
 hardness, expansion, and beauty. 
 
 It would be a vain task to inquire into the 
 cause of the animal production of these horns; 
 it is sufficient to observe, that if a stag be cas- 
 trated when its horns are fallen off, they will 
 never grow again ; and, on the contrary, if 
 the same operation is performed when they 
 are on, they will never fall off If only one 
 of his testicles are taken out, he will want the 
 horn on that side ; if one of the testicles only 
 be tied up, he will want the horn of the op- 
 posite side. The increase of their provision 
 also tends to facilitate the growth and the ex- 
 "pansion of the horns ; and Mr. Buffbn thinks 
 it possible to retard their growth entirely by 
 greatly retrenching their food. a As a proof 
 of this, nothing can be more obvious than the 
 difference between a stag bred in fertile pas- 
 tures and undisturbed by the hunter, and one 
 often pursued and ill-nourished. The for- 
 mer has his head expanded, his antlers nu- 
 merous, and the branches thick ; the latter 
 has but few antlers, the traces of the blood- 
 vessels upon them are but slight, and the ex- 
 pansion but little. The beauty and size of 
 their horns, therefore, mark their strength and 
 their vigour ; such of them as are sickly, or 
 have been wounded, never shooting out that 
 magnificent profusion so much admired in this 
 animal. Thus the horns may, in every re- 
 spect, be resembled to a vegetable substance, 
 grafted upon the head of an animal. Like a 
 vegetable they grow from the extremities; 
 like a vegetable they are for a while covered 
 with a bark that nourishes them ; like a ve- 
 
 a Buffon, vol. xi. p. 113. 
 
 b Mr. Buflbn has supposed something like this. Vide 
 passim. 
 
 getable they have their annual production 
 and decay ; and a strong imagination might 
 suppose that the leafy productions on which 
 the animal feeds, go once more to vegetate in 
 his horns. b 
 
 The stag is usually a twelvemonth old be- 
 fore the horns begin to appear, and then a sin- 
 gle branch is all that is seen for the year en- 
 suing. About the beginning of spring, all of 
 this kind are seen to shed thoir horns, which fall 
 off of themselves ; though sometimes the ani- 
 mal assists the efforts of nature, by rubbing 
 them against a tree. It seldom happens that 
 the branches on both sides fall off at the same 
 time, there often being two or three days be- 
 tween the dropping of the one and the other. 
 The old stags usually shed their horns first ; 
 which generally happens towards the latter 
 end of February, or the beginning of March. 
 Those of the second head, (namely, sucli as 
 are between five and six years old,) shed their 
 horns about the middle or latter end of March ; 
 those still younger, in the month of April ; and 
 the youngest of all, not till the middle, or the 
 latter end of May ; they generally shed them 
 in pools of water, whither they retire from the 
 heat ; and this has given rise to the opinion of 
 their always hiding their horns. These rules, 
 though true in general, are yet subject to many 
 variations ; and universally it is known that a 
 severe winter retards the shedding of the horns. 
 The horns of the stag generally increase in 
 thickness and in height from the second year 
 of its age to the eighth. In this state of perfec- 
 tion they continue during the vigour of life ; 
 but as the animal grows old the horns feel the 
 impressions of age, and shrink like the rest of 
 the body. No branch bears more than twenty 
 or twenty-two antlers even in the highest state 
 of vigour; and the number is subject to great 
 variety ; for it happens that the stag at one 
 year has either less or more than the year pre- 
 ceding, in proportion to the goodness of his 
 pasture, or the continuance of his security, as 
 these animals seldom thrive when often roused 
 by the hunters. The horns are also found to 
 partake of the nature of the soil ; in the more 
 fertile pastures they are large and tender ; on 
 the contrary, in the barren soil, they are hard, 
 stunted, and brittle. As soon as the stags 
 have shed their horns, they separate from each 
 other, and seek the plainer parts of the country, 
 remote from every other animal, which they 
 
THE DEER KIND. 
 
 259 
 
 are utterly unable to oppose. They then 
 walk with their heads stooping down, to keep 
 their horns from striking against the brandies 
 of the trees above. In this state of imbecility 
 they continue near three months before their 
 heads have acquired their full growth and soli- 
 dity ; and then, by rubbing them against the 
 branches of every thicket, they at length clear 
 them of the skin which had contributed to their 
 growth and nourishment. It is said by some, 
 that the horn takes the colour of the sap of the 
 tree against which it is rubbed ; and that some 
 thus become red, when rubbed against the 
 he uii ; and others brown, by rubbing against 
 the onk ; this, however, is a mistake, since 
 stilus kept in parks where there are no trees, 
 have a variety in the colour of their horns, which 
 can be ascribed to nothing but nature. A short 
 time after they have furnished their horns, they 
 begin to feel the impressions of the rut, or the 
 desire of copulation. The old ones are the 
 most forward ; and about the end of August, 
 or the beginning of September, they quit their 
 thickets, and return to t le mountain in order 
 to seek the hind, to whom they call with a loud 
 tremendous note. At this time their neck is 
 swol'.i; they appear bold and furious : fly from 
 country to country ; strike with their horns 
 against the trees and other obstacles, and con- 
 tinue restless and fierce until they have found 
 the female ; who at (irst flies from them, but 
 is at last compelled and overtaken. When two 
 stags contend for the same female, how timor- 
 ous soever they may appear at other times, they 
 then seem agitated with an uncommon degree 
 of ardour. They paw up the earth, menace 
 each other with their horns, b< How with all 
 their force, and striking in a desperate man- 
 ner against each other, seem determined upon 
 death or victory. This combat continues till 
 one of them is defeated or flies ; and it often 
 happ-ns that the victor is obliged to fight se- 
 veral of those battles before it remains undis- 
 puted master of the field. The old ones are 
 generally the conquerors upon these occasions, 
 as they have more strength and greater cou- 
 rage ; and these also are preferred by the hind 
 to the young ones, as the latter are more feeble, 
 and less ardent. However, they are all equal- 
 ly inconstant, keeping to the female but a few 
 days, and then seeking out for another, not to 
 be enjoyed, perhaps, without a repetition of 
 their former danger. 
 
 NO. 23 & 24. 
 
 In this manner the stag continues to range 
 from one to the other for about three weeks, 
 the time the rut continues; during which he 
 scarce eats, sleeps, or rests, but continues to 
 pursue, to combat, and to enjoy. At the end 
 of this period of madness, for such in this ani- 
 mal it seems to be, the creature that was be- 
 fore so fat, sleek, and glossy, becomes lean, 
 feeble, and tirnid. He then retires from the 
 herd to seek plenty and repose ; he frequents 
 the side of the forest, and chooses the most 
 nourishing pastures, remaining there till hie 
 strength is renewed. Thus is his whole life 
 passed in the alternations of plenty and want, 
 of corpulence and inanition, of health and 
 sickness, without having his constitution much 
 affected by the violence of the change. As 
 he is above five years coining to perfection, 
 he lives about forty years ; and it is a gene- 
 ral rule, that every animal lives about seven 
 or eight times the number of years which it 
 continues to grow. What, therefore, is re- 
 ported concerning the life of this animal, has 
 arisen from the credulity of ignorance : some 
 say, that a stag having been taken in France, 
 with a collar, on which were written these 
 words, "Caesar hoc me donavit;" this was 
 interpreted of Julius Ca3sar ; but it is not con- 
 sidered thatCaesar is a general name for kings, 
 and that one of the Emperors of Germany, 
 who are always styled Caesars, might have or- 
 dered the inscription. 
 
 This animal may differ in the term of his 
 life according to the goodness of his pasture, 
 or the undisturbed repose he happens to en- 
 joy. These are advantages that influence 
 not only his age, but his size and his vigour. 
 The stags of the plains, the valleys, and the 
 little hills, which abound in corn and pasture, 
 are much more corpulent and much taller 
 than such as are bred on the rocky waste, or 
 the heathy mountain. The latter are low, 
 small, and meagre, incapable of going so swift 
 as the former, although they are found to hold 
 out much longer. They are also more art- 
 ful in evading the hunters; their horns are 
 generally black and short, while those of the 
 lowland stags are reddish and flourishing; 
 so that the animal seems to increase in beau- 
 ty and stature in proportion to the goodness 
 of the pasture, which he enjoys in security. 
 The usual colour of the stag in England 
 2U 
 
260 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 was red ; nevertheless, the greater number in 
 other countries are brown. There are some 
 few that are white; but these seem to have 
 obtained this colour in a former state of do- 
 mestic tameness. Of all the animals that are 
 natives of this climate, there are none that 
 have such a beautiful eye as the stag; it is 
 sparkling, soft, and sensible. His senses of 
 smelling and hearing are in no less perfec- 
 tion. When he is in the least alarmed, he 
 lifts the head and erects the ears, standing for 
 a few minutes as if in a listening posture. 
 Whenever he ventures upon some unknown 
 ground, or quits his native covering, he first 
 stops at the skirt of the plain to examine all 
 around ; he next turns against the wind to ex- 
 amine by the smell if there be any enemy ap- 
 proaching. If a person should happen to 
 whistle or call out, at a distance, the stag is 
 seen to stop short in his slow measured pace, 
 and gazes upon the stranger with a kind of 
 awkward admiration: if the cunning animal 
 perceives neither dogs nor fire-arms preparing 
 against him, he goes forward, quite uncon- 
 cerned, arid slowly proceeds without offering 
 to fly. Man is not the enemy he is most afraid 
 of; on the contrary, he seems to be delighted 
 with the sound of the shepherd's pipe; and 
 the hunters sometimes make use of that in- 
 strument to allure the poor animal to his de- 
 struction. 
 
 The stag eats slowly, and is very delicate 
 in the choice of his pasture. When he has 
 eaten a sufficiency, he then retires to the co- 
 vert of some thicket to chew the cud in secu- 
 rity. His rumination, however, seems per- 
 formed with much greater difficulty than with 
 the cow or sheep ; for the grass is not re- 
 turned from the first stomach without much 
 straining, and a kind of hiccup, which is easi- 
 ly perceived during the whole time it con- 
 tinues. This may proceed from the greater 
 length of his neck and the narrowness of the 
 passage, all those of the cow and the sheep 
 kind having it much wider. 
 
 This animal's voice is much stronger, loud- 
 er, and more tremulous, in proportion as he 
 advances in age ; in the time of rut it is even 
 terrible. At that season he seems so trans- 
 ported with passion, that nothing obstructs his 
 fury ; and, when at bay, he keeps the dogs 
 off* with great intrepidity. Some years ago, 
 
 William Duke of Cumberland caused a tiger 
 and a stag to be inclosed in the same area ; 
 and the stag made so bold a defence, that 
 the tiger was at last obliged to fly. The stag 
 seldom drinks in the winter, and still less in 
 the spring, while the plants are tender and co- 
 vered over with dew. It is in the heat of sum- 
 mer, and during the time of rut, that he is seen 
 constantly frequenting the sides of rivers and 
 lakes, as well to slake his thirst as to cool his 
 ardour. Heswims with great ease and strength, 
 and best at those times when he is fattest, his 
 fat keeping him buoyant, like oil upon the 
 surface of the water. During the time of rut 
 he even ventures out to sea, and swims from 
 one island to another, although there may be 
 some leagues distance between them. 
 
 The cry of the hind, or female, is not so 
 loud as that of the male, and is never excited 
 but by apprehension for herself or her young. 
 It need scarce be mentioned that she has no 
 horns, or that she is m<?re feeble and unfit for 
 hunting than the male. When once they have 
 conceived, they separate from the males, and 
 then they both herd apart. The time of ges- 
 tation continues between eight and nine 
 months, and they generally produce but one 
 at a time. Their usual season for bringing 
 forth is about the month of May, or the begin- 
 ning of June, during which they take great 
 care to hide their young in the most obscure 
 thickets. Nor is this precaution without rea- 
 son, since almost every creature is then a for- 
 midable enemy. The eagle, the falcon the 
 osprey, the wolf, the dog, and all the rapaci- 
 ous family of the cat kind, are in continual em- 
 ployment to find out her retreat. But, what 
 is more unnatural still, the stag himself is a 
 professed enemy, and she is obliged to use all 
 her arts to conceal her young from him, as 
 from the most dangerous of her pursuers. At 
 this season, therefore, the courage of the male 
 seems transferred to the female ; she defends 
 her young against her less formidable oppo- 
 nents by force: and when pursued by the hun- 
 ter, she ever offers herself to mislead him from 
 the principal objects of her concern. She 
 flies before the hounds for half the day, and 
 then returns to her young, whose lifr she has 
 thus preserved at the hazard of her own. 
 The calf, for so the young of this animal is cal 
 led, never quits the dam during the whole 
 
THE DEER KIND. 
 
 261 
 
 summer; and in winter, the hind, and all the 
 mnls uudi-r a year old, keep together, and 
 assemble in herds, which are more numerous 
 in proportion as the season is more severe. 
 In the spring they separate; the hinds to 
 bring forth, while none but the year olds re- 
 main together ; these animals are, however, 
 in general, fond of herding and grazing in 
 company ; it is danger or necessity alone that 
 separates them. 
 
 The dangers they have to fear from other 
 animals, are nothing when compared to those 
 from man. The men of every age and nation 
 have made the chase of the stag one of their 
 most favourite pursuits; and those who first 
 hunted from necessity, have continued it for 
 amusement. In our own country, in particu- 
 lar, hunting was ever esteemed as one of the 
 principal diversions of the great." At first, 
 indeed, the beasts of chase had the whole 
 island for their range, and knew no other 
 limits than those of the ocean. 
 
 The Roman jurisprudence, which Avas form- 
 .ed on the manners of the first ages. est.Uished 
 it as a law, that, as the natural right of things 
 which have no master, belongs to the first 
 possessor, wild beasts, birds, and fishes, are 
 the property of whosoever could first take 
 them. But the northern barbarians, who 
 overran the Roman empire, bringing with 
 them the strongest relish for this amusement, 
 and, being now possessed of more easy means 
 of subsistence from the lands they had con- 
 quered, their chiefs and leaders began to ap- 
 propriate the right of hunting, and, instead of 
 a natural right, to make it a royal one. When 
 the Saxon kings, therefore, had established 
 themselves in a heptarchy, the chases were 
 reserved by each sovereign for his own par- 
 ticular amusement. Hunting and war, in 
 those uncivilized ages, were the only employ- 
 ment of the great. Their active, but uncul- 
 tivated minds, were susceptible of no plea- 
 sures but those of a violent kind, such as 
 gave exercise to their bodies, and prevented 
 the uneasiness of thinking. But as the Saxon 
 kings only appropriated those lands to the 
 business of the chase which were unoccupied 
 before, so no individuals received any injury. 
 But it was otherwise when the Norman kings 
 
 a British Zoology. 
 
 were settled upon the throne. The passion 
 for hunting was then carried to an excess, 
 and every civil right was involved in general 
 ruin. This ardour for hunting was stronger 
 than the consideration of religion even in a 
 superstitious age. The village communities, 
 nay, even the most sacred edifices, were 
 thrown down, and all turned into one vast 
 waste, to make room for animals, the objects 
 of a lawless tyrant's pleasure. Sanguinary 
 laws were enacted to preserve the game ; 
 and, in the reigns of William Rufus and Henry 
 I. it was less criminal to destroy one of the 
 human species than a beast of chase. Thus 
 it continued while the Norman line filled the 
 throne ; but when the Saxon line was restor- 
 ed, under Henry II. the rigour of the forest- 
 laws were softened. The barons also for a 
 long time imitated the encroachments, as well 
 as the amusements, of the monarchs ; but 
 when property became more equally divided, 
 by the introduction of arts and industry, these 
 extensive hunting grounds became more li- 
 mited; and as tillage and husbandry increased, 
 the beasts of chase were obliged to give way 
 to others more useful to the community. 
 Those vast tracts of land, before dedicated 
 to hunting, were then contracted ; and, in 
 proportion as the useful arts gained ground, 
 they protected and encouraged the labours 
 of the industrious, and repressed the licen- 
 tiousness of the sportsman. It is^ therefore, 
 among the subjects of despotic government 
 only, that these laws remain in full force; where 
 large wastes lie uncultivated for the purpose 
 of hunting; where the husbandman can find 
 no protection from the invasions of his lord, or 
 the continual depredations of those animals 
 which he makes the objects of his pleasure. 
 In the present cultivated state of this coun- 
 try, therefore, the stag is unknown in its wild 
 natural state ; and such of them as remain 
 among us are kept, under the name of red deer, 
 in parks among the fallow-deer. But they 
 are become less common than formerly ; its 
 excessive viciousness, during the rutting sea- 
 son,and the badness of its flesh, inducing most 
 people to part with the species. The few 
 that still remain wild, are to be found on the 
 moors that border on Cornwall and Devon- 
 shire ; and in Ireland, on most of the large 
 mountains of that country. 
 2U 
 
262 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 In England, the hunting the stag and the 
 buck are performed in the same manner; the 
 animal is driven from some gentleman's park, 
 and then hunted through the open country. 
 But those who pursue the wild animal, have 
 a much higher object, as well as a greater 
 variety in the chase. To let loose a creature 
 that was already in our possession, in order 
 to catch it again, is, in my opinion, but a poor 
 pursuit, as the reward, when obtained, is only 
 what we before had given away. But to 
 pursue an animal that owns no proprietor, 
 and which he that first seizes may be said to 
 possess, has something in it that seems at least 
 more rational ; this rewards the hunter for 
 his toil, and seems to repay his industry. 
 Besides, the superior strength and swiftness 
 of the wild animal prolongs the amusement ; 
 it is possessed of more various arts to escape 
 the hunter, and leads him to precipices where 
 the danger ennobles the chase. In pursuing 
 the animal let loose from a park, as it is 
 unused to danger, it is but little versed in the 
 stratagems of escape ; the hunter follows as 
 sure of overcoming, and feels none of those 
 alterations of hope and fear which arise from 
 the uncertainty of success. But it is other- 
 wise with the mountain stag: having spent 
 his whole life in a state of continual appre- 
 hension; having frequently been followed, 
 and as frequently escaped, he knows every 
 trick to mislead, to confound, or intimidate 
 his pursuers; to stimulate their ardour, and 
 enhance their success. 
 
 Those who hunt this animal have their pe- 
 culiar terms for the different objects of their 
 pursuit. The professors in every art take a 
 pleasure in thus employing a language known 
 only to themselves, and thus accumulate 
 words which, to the ignorant, have the ap- 
 pearance of knowledge. In this manner, the 
 stag is called the first year, a calf, or hind calf '; 
 the second year, a knobber; the third, a brock ; 
 the fourth, a stag-guard; the fifth, a stag; the 
 sixth, a hart. The female is called a hind; 
 the first year she is a calf; the second, a 
 hearse; the third, a hind. This animal is said 
 to harbour in the place whpre he resides. 
 When he cries, he is said to bell; the print of 
 his hoof is called the slot; his tail is called 
 the single; his excrement the fewmct; his 
 horns are called his head: when simple, the 
 
 first year, they are called broches ; the third 
 year, spears; the fourth year, that part which 
 bears the antlers is called the beam, and the 
 littleimpressions upon its surface, glitters; those 
 which rise from the crust of the beam are 
 called pearls. The antlers also have distinct 
 names ; the first that branches off is called 
 the antler; the second, the sur-antler; all the 
 rest which grow afterwards, till you come to 
 the top, which is called the crown, are called 
 royal antlers; the little buds about the tops are 
 called croches. The impression on the place 
 where the stag has lain, is called the layer 
 If it be in covert or a thicket, it is called his 
 harbour. When a deer has passed into a 
 thicket, leaving marks whereby his bulk may 
 be guessed, it is called an entry. When they 
 cast their heads, they are said to mew. When 
 they rub their heads against trees, to bring off 
 the peel of their horns, they are said to fray. 
 When a stag hard hunted takes to swimming 
 in the water, he is said to go sail; when he turns 
 his head against the hounds, he is said to bay; 
 and when the hounds pursue upon the scent, 
 until they have unharboured the stag, they 
 are said to draw on the slot. 
 
 Such are but a few of the many terms used 
 by hunters in pursuing of the stag, most of 
 which are now laid aside, or in use only 
 among the gamekeepers. The chase, how- 
 ever, is continued in many parts of the coun- 
 try where the red deer are preserved, and still 
 makes' tlie amusement of such as have not 
 found out more liberal entertainments. In 
 those few places where the animal is perfectly 
 wild, the amusement, as was said above, is 
 superior. The first great care of the hunter, 
 when he leads out his hounds to the mountain 
 side, where the deer are generally known to 
 harbour, is to make choice of a proper stag 
 to pursue. His ambition is to unharbour the 
 largest and the boldest of the whole herd ; 
 and for this purpose he examines the track, 
 iftherebe any,whichifhe finds long and large, 
 he concludes, that it must have belonged to a 
 stag, and not a hind, the print of whose foot 
 is rounder. Those marks also which he 
 leaves on trees, by the rubbir.g of his horns, 
 show hi* size, and point him out as the pro- 
 per object of pursuit. Now to serk out a 
 stag in his haunt, it is to be observed, that he 
 changes his manner of feeiling every month. 
 
THE DEER KIND. 
 
 263 
 
 From the conclusion of rutting-time, which is 
 November, he feeds in heaths and broomy pla- 
 ces. In December they herd together, and 
 withdraw into the strength of the forests, to 
 shelter themselves from the severe weather, 
 feeding on holm, elder-trees, and brambles. 
 The three following months they leave herd- 
 ing, but keep four or five in a company, and 
 venture out to the corners of the forest, where 
 they feed on winter pasture, sometimes ma- 
 king their incursions into the neighbouring 
 corn-fields, to feed upon the tender shoots, 
 just as they peep above ground. In April and 
 May they rest in thickets and shady places, 
 and seldom venture forth unless roused by ap- 
 proaching danger. In September and Octo- 
 ber their annual ardour returns; and then 
 they leave the thickets, boldly facing every 
 danger, without any certain place for food or 
 harbour. When, by a knowledge of these cir- 
 cumstances, the hunter has found out the re- 
 sidence, and the quality of his game, his next 
 care is to uncouple and cast oflf his hounds 
 in the pursuit : these no sooner perceive the 
 timorous animal that flies before them, but 
 they altogether open in full cry, pursuing ra- 
 ther by the scent than the view, encouraging 
 each other to continue the chase, and tracing 
 the tlying animal with the most amazing saga- 
 city. The hunters also are not less ardent in 
 their speed on horseback, cheering up the 
 dogs, and directing them where to pursue. 
 On the other hand, the stag, when unharbour- 
 ed, flies at first with the swiftness of the wind, 
 leaving his pursuers several miles in the rear; 
 and at length having gained his former coverts, 
 and no longer hearing the cries of the dogs 
 and men that he had just left behind, he stops, 
 gazes round him, and seems to recover his 
 natural tranquillity. But this calm is of short 
 duration, for his inveterate pursuers slowly 
 and securely trace him along, and he once 
 more hears the approaching destruction from 
 behind. He again, therefore, renews his ef- 
 forts to escape, and again leaves his pursuers 
 at almost the former distance ; but this second 
 effort makes him more feeble than before, and 
 when they come up a second time, he is un- 
 able to outstrip them with equal velocity. 
 The poor animal now, therefore, is obliged to 
 have recourse to all his little arts of escape, 
 which sometimes, though but seldom, avai 
 
 him. In proportion as his strength fails him, 
 the ardour of his pursuers is inflamed ; he 
 tracks more heavily on the ground, and this 
 increasing the strength of the scent, redoubles 
 the cries of the hounds, and enforces their 
 speed. It is then that the stag seeks for re- 
 fuge among the herd, and tries every artifice 
 to put oflTsome other head for his own. Some- 
 times he will send forth some little deer in 
 his stead, in the mean time lying close him- 
 self, that the hounds may overshoot him. He 
 will break into one thicket after another, to 
 find deer, rousing them, gathering them toge- 
 ther, and endeavouring to put them upon the 
 tracks he has made. His old companions, 
 however, with a true spirit of ingratitude, now 
 all forsake and shun him with the most watch- 
 ful industry, leaving the unhappy creature to 
 take his fate by himself. Thus abandoned of 
 his fellows, he again tries other arts, by dou- 
 bling and crossing in some hard beaten high- 
 way, where the scent is least perceivable. 
 He now also runs against the wind, not only 
 to cool himself, but the better to hear the 
 voice, and judge of the distance, of his impla- 
 cable pursuers. It is now easily perceivable 
 how sorely he is pressed, by his manner of 
 running, which, from the bounding, easy pace 
 with which he began, is converted into a stiff 
 and short manner of going; his mouth also is 
 black and dry, without form on it; his tongue 
 hangs out ; and the tears, as some say, are 
 seen starting from his eyes. His last refuge, 
 when every other method of safety has failed 
 him, is to take the water, and to attempt an 
 escape by crossing whatever lake or river he 
 happens to approach. While swimming, he 
 takes all possible care to keep in the middle 
 of the stream, least, by touching the bough ol 
 a tree, or the herbage on the banks, he may 
 give scent to the hounds. He is also ever 
 found to swim against the stream; whence 
 the huntsmen have made into a kind of proverb, 
 That he that would his chase find, must up with the 
 river and down with the wind. On this occasion 
 too he will often cover himself under wuter, 
 so as to show nothing but the tip of his nose. 
 Every resource, and every art being at length 
 exhausted, the poor creature tries the last 
 remains of his strength, by boldly opposing 
 those enemies he cannot escape; he there- 
 fore faces the dogs and men, threatens with 
 
264 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 his horns, guards himself on every side, and 
 for some time stands at bay. In this manner, 
 quite desperate, he furiously aims at the first 
 dog or man that approaches; and it often hap- 
 pens that he does not die unrevenged. At 
 that time, the more prudent, both of the dogs 
 and men, seem willing to avoid him; but the 
 whole pack quickly coming up, he is soon 
 surrounded and brought down, and the hunts- 
 man winds a treble mort, as it is called, with 
 his horn. 
 
 Such is the manner of pursuing this animal 
 in England ; but every country has a pecu- 
 liar method of its own, adapted either to the 
 nature of the climate, or the face of the soil. 
 The ancient manner was very different from 
 that practised at present; they used their 
 dogs only to find out the game, but not to 
 rouse it. Hence they were not curious as 
 to the music of their hounds, or the composi- 
 tion of their pack ; the dog that opened be- 
 fore he had discovered his game, was held in 
 no estimation. It was their usual manner si- 
 lently to find out the animal's retreat, and sur- 
 round it with nets and engines, then to drive 
 him up with all their cries, and thus force him 
 into the toils which they have previously pre- 
 pared. In succeeding times the fashion seem- 
 ed to alter; and particularly in Sicily,the man- 
 ner of hunting was as follows.* The nobles 
 and gentry being informed which way a herd 
 of deer passed, gave notice to one another, 
 and appointed a day of hunting. For this 
 purpose, every one was to bring a cross-bow, 
 or a long-bow, and a bundle of staves, shod 
 with iron, the heads bored, with a cord pass- 
 ing through them all. Thus provided, they 
 came to where the herd continued grazing, 
 and casting themselves about in a large ring, 
 surrounded the deer on every side. Then 
 each taking his stand, unbound his faggot, 
 set up his stake, and tied the end of the cord 
 to that of his next neighbour, at the distance 
 of about ten feet one from the other. Between 
 each of these stakes was hung a bunch of crim- 
 son feathers, and so disposed, that with the 
 least breath of wind they would whirl round, 
 and preserve a sort of fluttering motion. This 
 done, the persons who set up the staves with- 
 drew, and hid themselves in the neighbour- 
 
 Pier Hieroglyph, lib. vii. cap. vi. 
 
 ing coverts : then the chief huntsman, enter- 
 ing with his hounds within the lines, roused 
 the game with a full cry. The deer, frighted, 
 and flying on all sides, upon approaching the 
 lines, were scared away by the fluttering of 
 the feathers, and wandered about within this 
 artificial paling, still awed by the shining and 
 fluttering plumage that encircled their retreat ; 
 the huntsman, however, still pursuing, and 
 calling every person by name, as he passed 
 by their stand, commanded him to shoot the 
 first, third, or sixth, as he pleased ; and if any 
 of them missed, or singled out another than 
 that assigned him, it was considered as a 
 most shameful mischance. In this manner, 
 however, the whole herd was at last destroy- 
 ed ; and the day concluded with mirth and 
 feasting. 
 
 The stags of China are of a particular kind, 
 for they are no taller than a common house- 
 dog; and hunting them is one of the princi- 
 pal diversions of the great. Their flesh, 
 while young, is exceedingly good : but when 
 they arrive at maturity, it begins to grow hard 
 and tough : however, the tongue, the muzzle, 
 and the ears, are in particular esteem among 
 that luxurious people. Their manner of tak- 
 ing them is singular enough : they carry with 
 them the heads of some of the females stuffed, 
 and learn exactly to imitate their cry ; upon 
 this the male does not fail to appear, and look- 
 ing on all sides, perceives the head, which is 
 all that the hunter, who is himself concealed, 
 discovers. Upon their nearer approach the 
 whole company rise, surround, and often take 
 him alive. 
 
 There are very few varieties in the red deer 
 of this country ; and they are mostly found of 
 the same size and colour. But it is otherwise 
 in different parts of the world, where they 
 are seen to differ in form, in size, in horns, 
 and in colour. 
 
 The stag of Corsica is a very small animal, 
 being not above half the size of those com- 
 mon among us. His body is short and thick, 
 his legs short, and his hair of a dark brown. 
 
 There is in the forests of Germany, a kind 
 of stag, named by the ancients the Tragela- 
 phns, and which the natives call the bran deer, 
 or the brown deer. This is of a darker colour 
 than the common stag, of n lighter shade 
 upon the belly, long hair upon the neck and 
 
THE DEER KIND. 
 
 265 
 
 throat, by which it appears bearded, like the 
 goat. 
 
 There is also a very beautiful stag, which 
 by some is said to be a native of Sardinia ; 
 but others (among whom is Mr. Buffbn) are 
 of opinion that it comes from Africa or the 
 East-Indies. He calls it the axis, after Pliny; 
 and considers it as making the shade between 
 the stag and the fallow-deer. The horns of 
 the axis are round, like those of the stag; but 
 the form of its body entirely resembles that 
 of the buck, and the size also is exactly the 
 same. The hair is of four colours; namely, 
 fallow, white, black, and gray. The white 
 js predominant under the belly, on the inside 
 of the thighs and the legs. Along the back 
 there are two rows of spots in a right line ; 
 but those on other parts of the body are very 
 irregular. A white line runs along each side 
 of this animal, while the head and neck are 
 gray. The tail is black above, and white be- 
 neath ; and the hair upon it is six inches long. 
 
 Although there are but few individuals of 
 the deer kind, yet the race seems diffused 
 over all parts of the earth. The new conti- 
 nent of America, in which neither the sheep, 
 the goat, nor the gazelle, have been originally 
 bred, nevertheless produces stags, and other 
 animals of the deer kind, in sufficient plenty. 
 The Mexicans have a breed of white stags in 
 their parks, which they call stags royal." The 
 stags of Canada differ from ours in nothing 
 except the size of the horns, which in them 
 is greater; and the direction of the antlers, 
 which rather turn back, than project forward, 
 as in those of Europe. The same difference 
 of size that obtains among our stags, is also 
 to be seen in that country ; and, as we are 
 informed by Ruysch, the Americans have 
 brought them into the same state of domestic 
 tameness that we have our sheep, goats, or 
 black cattle. They send them forth in the 
 day-time to feed in the forests; and at night 
 they return home with the herdsman who 
 guards them. The inhabitants have no other 
 milk but what the hind produces ; and use no 
 other cheese but what is made from thence. 
 In this manner we find, that an animal which 
 seems made only for man's amusement, may 
 be easily brought to supply his necessities. 
 
 a Buffon, vol. xii. p. 35. 
 
 Nature has many stores of happiness and 
 plenty in reserve, which only want the call of 
 industry to be produced, and now remain as 
 candidates for human approbation. 
 
 THE FALLOW-DEER. 
 
 No two animals can be more nearly allied 
 than the stag and the fallow-deer. 1 ' Alike in 
 form, alike in disposition, in the superb fur- 
 niture of their heads, in their swiftness and 
 timidity; and yet no two animals keep more 
 distinct, or avoid each other with more 
 fixed animosity. They are never seen to 
 herd in the same place, they never engender 
 together, or form a mixed breed ; and even 
 in those countries where the stag is common, 
 the buck seems to be entirely a stranger; in 
 short, they both form distinct families; which, 
 though so seemingly near, are still remote : 
 and although with the same habitudes, yet 
 retain an unalterable aversion. The fallow- 
 deer, as they are much smaller, so they seem 
 of a nature less robust, and less savage than 
 those of the stag kind. They are found but 
 rarely wild in the forests ; they are, in gene- 
 ral, bred up in parks, and kept for the pur- 
 poses of hunting, or of luxury, their flesh be- 
 ing preferred to that of any other animal. It 
 need scarce be mentioned, that the horns of 
 the buck make its principal distinction, being 
 broad and palmated; whereas those of the 
 stag are in every part round. In the one, 
 they are flatted and spread like the palm of 
 the hand ; in the other they grow like a tree, 
 every branch being of the shape of the stem 
 that bears it. The fallow-deer also has the 
 tail longer, and the hair lighter than the stag; 
 in other respects, they pretty near resemble 
 one another. 
 
 The head of the buck, as of all other ani- 
 mals of this kind, is shed every year,and takes 
 the usual time for repairing. The only differ- 
 ence between it and the stag is, that this 
 change happens later in the buck ; and its 
 rutting-time, consequently, falls more into the 
 winter. It is not found so furious at this 
 season as the former; nor does it so much 
 exhaust itself by the violence of its ardour. 
 
 b Buffon, vol. xii. p. 36. 
 
266 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 It does not quit its natural pastures in quest 
 of the female, nor does it attack other animals 
 with indiscriminate ferocity : however, the 
 males combat for Ihe female among each 
 other ; and it is not without many contests, 
 that one buck is seen to become master of the 
 whole herd. It often happens also, that an 
 herd of fallow-deer is seen to divide into two 
 parties, and engage each other with great 
 ardour and obstinacy." -They both seem de- 
 sirous of gaining some favourite spot of the 
 park for pasture, and of driving the vanquish- 
 ed party into the coarser and more disagree- 
 able parts. Each of these factions has its 
 particular chief; namely, the two oldest and 
 strongest of the herd. These lead on to the 
 engagement ; and the rest follow under their 
 direction. Thesecombats are singular enough, 
 from the disposition and conduct which seems 
 to regulate their mutual efforts. They attack 
 with order, and support the assault with cou- 
 rage ; they come to each other's assistance, 
 they retire, they rally, and never give up the 
 victory upon a single defeat. The combat is 
 renewed for several days together; until at 
 length the most feeble side is obliged to give 
 way, and is content to escape to the most 
 disagreeable part of the park, where only 
 they can find safety and protection. 
 
 The fallow-deer is easily tamed, and feeds 
 upon many things which the stag refuses. 
 By this means it preserves its venison better; 
 and even after rutting, it does not appear 
 entirely exhausted, ft continues almost in 
 the same state through the whole year, al- 
 though there are particular seasons when its 
 flesh is chiefly in esteem. This animal also 
 browzes closer than the stag ; for which 
 reason it is more prejudicial among young 
 trees, which it often strips too close for re- 
 covery. The young deer eat much faster and 
 more greedily than the old ; they seek the 
 female at their second year ; and, like the 
 stag, are fond of variety. The doe goes with 
 young above eight months, like the hind; and ; 
 commonly brings forth one at a time: but 
 they differ in this, that the buck comes to per- 
 fection at three, and lives till sixteen ; where- 
 as the stag does not come to perfection till 
 seven, and lives till forty. 
 
 Buffon, vol. xii. p. 36. 
 
 As this animal is a beast of chase, like the 
 stag, so the hunters have invented a number 
 of names relative to him. The buck is, the 
 first year, called afatvn; the second, a pricket; 
 the third, a sorel; the fourth, a sore; the fifth, 
 a buck of the first head; and the sixth, a great 
 buck: the female is called a doe; the first 
 year, a fawn; and the second, a tegg. The 
 manner of hunting the buck is pretty much 
 the same as that of stag-hunting, except that 
 less skill is required in the latter. The buck 
 is more easily roused ; it is sufficient to judge 
 by the view, and mark what grove or covert 
 it enters, as it is not known to wander far 
 from thence ; nor, like the stag, to change its 
 layer, or place of repose. When hard hunted, 
 it takes to some strong hold, or covert, with 
 which it is acquainted, in the more gloomy 
 parts of the wood, or the steeps of the moun- 
 tain; not like the stag, flying before the 
 hounds, nor crossing nor doubling, nor using 
 any of the subtleties which the stag is accus- 
 tomed to. It will take the water when sorely 
 pressed, but seldom a great river; nor can it 
 swim so long, nor so swiftly, as the former. 
 In general, the strength, the cunning, and the 
 courage of this animal, are inferior to those 
 of the stag ; and, consequently, it affords 
 neither so long, so various, nor so obstinate a 
 chase : besides, being lighter, and not tracing 
 so deeply, it leaves a less powerful and last- 
 ing scent, and the dogs in the pursuit are 
 more frequently at a fault. 
 
 As the buck is a more delicate animal than 
 the stag, so also it is subject to greater varie- 
 ties. 1 " We have in England two varieties of 
 the fallow-deer, which are said to be of 
 foreign origin. The beautiful spotted kind, 
 which is supposed to have been brought 
 from Bengal ; and the very deep brown sort, 
 that are now so common in several parts of 
 this kingdom. These were introduced by 
 King James the First from Norway : for hav- 
 ing observed their hardiness, and that they 
 could endure the winter, even in that severe 
 climate, without fodder, he brought over 
 some of them into Scotland, and disposed of 
 them among his chases. Since that time, 
 they have multiplied in many parts of the 
 British empire; and England is now become 
 
 b British Zoology. 
 
THE DEER KIND. 
 
 267 
 
 more famous for its venison, than any other 
 country i.i the world. Whatever pains the 
 French have take.i to rival us in this particu- 
 lar, the flesh of their thllow-deer,of which they 
 keep but a few, has neither the fatness nor 
 the flavour of that fed upon English pasture. 
 However, there is scarce a country in Ku- 
 rope, except far to the northward, in which 
 this animal is a stranger. The Spanish fallow- 
 deer are as large as stags, but of a darker co- 
 lour, and a more slender neck : their tails are 
 longer than those of ours, they are black above, 
 and white below. The Virginian deer are 
 larger and stronger than ours, with great 
 necks, and their colour inclinable to gray. 
 Other kinds have the hoofs of their hind legs 
 marked outwardly with a white spot- and 
 their ears and tail much longer than the com- 
 mon. One of these has been seen full of white 
 spots, with a black list down the middle of 
 his back. In Guiana, a country of South Ame- 
 rica, according to Labat, there are deer with- 
 out horns, which are much less than those of 
 Europe, but resembling them in every other 
 particular. They are very lively, light of 
 course, and excessively fearful; their hair is 
 of a reddish fallow, their heads are small and 
 lean, their ears little, their necks long and arch- 
 ed, the tail short, and the sight piercing. 
 When pursued, they fly into places where no 
 other animal can follow them. The Negroes, 
 who pursue them, stand to watch for them in 
 narrow paths, which lead to the brook, or the 
 meadow where they feed ; there waiting in 
 the utmost silence, for the slightest sound will 
 drive them away, the Negro, when he per- 
 ceives the animal within reach, shoots, and 
 is happy if he can bring down his game. 
 Their flesh, though seldom fat, is considered 
 as a great delicacy, and the hunter is well re- 
 warded for his trouble. 
 
 THE ROE-BUCK. 
 
 THE roe-buck is the smallest of the deer 
 kind known in our climate, and is now almost 
 extinct among us, except in some parts of the 
 Highlands of Scotland. It is generally about 
 three feet long, and about two feet high. The 
 horns are from eight to nine inches long, up- 
 right, round, and divided into only three bran- 
 No. 23 & 24. 
 
 dies. The body is covered with very long 
 hair, well adapted to the rigour of its moun- 
 tainous abode. The lower part of each hair 
 is ash colour ; near the ends is a narrow bar 
 of black, and the points are yellow. The hairs 
 on the face are black, tipped with ash colour. 
 The ears are long, their insides of a pale yel- 
 low, and covered with long hair. The spaces 
 bordering on the eyes and mouth, are black. 
 The chest, belly, and legs, and the inside of 
 the thighs, are of a yellowish white ; the rump 
 is of a pure white, and the tail very short. 
 The make of this little animal is very elegant; 
 and its swiftness equals its beauty. It differs 
 from the fallow-deer, in having round horns, 
 and not flatted like theirs. It differs from the 
 stag, in its smaller size, and the proportion- 
 able paucity of its antlers : and it differs from 
 all of the goat kind, as it annually sheds its 
 head, and obtains a new one, which none of 
 that kind are ever seen to do. 
 
 As the stag frequents the thickest forests, 
 and the sides of the highest mountains, the 
 roe-buck, with humbler ambition, courts the 
 shady thicket, and the rising slope. Although 
 less in size, and far inferior in strength, to the 
 stag, it is yet more beautiful, more active, and 
 even more courageous. Its hair is always 
 smooth, clean, and glossy ; and it frequents 
 only the driest places, and of the purest air. 
 Though but a very little animal, as we have 
 already observed, yet when its young is at- 
 tacked, it faces even the stag himself, arid of- 
 ten comes off* victorious.* All its motions are 
 elegant and easy; it bounds without effort, 
 and continues the course with but little fa- 
 tigue. It is also possessed of more cunning 
 in avoiding the hunter, is more difficult to pur- 
 sue, and, although its scent is much stronger 
 than that of the stag, it is more frequently 
 found to make a good retreat. It is not with 
 the roe-buck as with the stag, who never of- 
 fers to use art until his strength is beginning 
 to decline; this more cunning animal, when 
 it finds that its first efforts to escape are with- 
 out success, returns upon its former track, 
 again goes forward, and again returns, until, 
 by its various windings, it has entirely con- 
 founded the scent, and joined the last ema- 
 nations to those of its former course. It then, 
 
 BuiTon, vol. xii. p. 75 
 
 3X 
 
268 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 by a bound, goes to one side, lies flat upon 
 its belly, and permits the pack to pass by very 
 near, without offering to stir. 
 
 But the roe-buck differs not only from the 
 stag in superior cunning, but also in its natu- 
 ral appetites, its inclinations, and its whole 
 habits of living. Instead of herding together, 
 these animals live in separate families ; the 
 sire, the dam, and the young ones, associate 
 together, and never admit a stranger into 
 their little community. AH others of the deer 
 kind are inconstant in their affection ; but the 
 roe-buck never leaves its mate ; and, as they 
 have been generally bred up together from 
 their first fawning, they conceive so strong an 
 attachment, the male for the female, that they 
 never after separate. Their rutting-season 
 continues but fifteen days ; from the latter end 
 of October to about the middle of November. 
 They are not at that time, like the stag, over- 
 loaded with fat; they have not that strong 
 odour,which is perceived in all others of the 
 deer kind ; they have none of those furious 
 excesses ; nothing, in short, that alters their 
 state : they only drive away their fawns upon 
 these occasions; the buck forcing them to 
 retire, in order to make room for a succeed- 
 ing progeny; however, when the copulating 
 season is over, the fawns return to their does, 
 and remain with them some time longer: after 
 which, they quit them entirely, in order to 
 begin an independent family of their own. 
 The female goes with young but five months 
 and a half, which alone serves to distinguish 
 this animal from all others of the deer kind, 
 that continue pregnant more than eight. In 
 this respect, she rather approaches more 
 nearly to the goat kind ; from which, how- 
 ever, this race is separated by the male's 
 annually casting its horns. 
 
 When the female is ready to bring forth, 
 she seeks a retreat in the thickest part of the 
 woods, being not less apprehensive of the 
 buck, from whom she then separates, than of 
 the wolf, the wild-cat, and almost every rave- 
 nous animal of the forest; she generally pro- 
 duces two at a time, and three hut very rare- 
 ly. In about ten or twelve days these are 
 able to follow the dam, except in cases of 
 warm pursuit, when their strength is not equal 
 to the fatigue. Upon such occasions, the ten- 
 derness of the dam is very extraordinary; leav- 
 
 ing them in the deepest thickets, she offers 
 herself to the danger, flies before the hounds, 
 and does all in her power to lead them from 
 the retreat where she has lodged her little 
 ones. Such animals as are nearly upon her 
 own level she boldly encounters ; attacks the 
 stag, the wild-cat, and even the wolf; and 
 while she has life, continues her efforts to pro- 
 tect her young. Yet all her endeavours are 
 often vain ; about the month of May, which is 
 her fawning time, there is a greater destruc- 
 tion among those animals than at any other 
 season of the year. Numbers of the fawns are 
 taken alive by the peasants; numbers are 
 found out, and worried by the dogs ; and still 
 more by the wolf, which has always been their 
 most inveterate enemy. By these continual 
 depredations upon this beautiful creature, the 
 roe-buck is every day becoming scarcer; and 
 the whole race in many countries is wholly 
 worn out. They were once common in Eng- 
 land; the huntsmen, who characterized only 
 such beasts as they knew, have given names 
 to the different kinds and ages as to the stag: 
 thus they called it the first year a hind; the 
 second, a gyrle ; and the third, a -hemuse; but 
 these names at present are utterly useless, 
 since the animal no longer exists among us. 
 Even in France, where it was once extreme- 
 ly common, it is now confined to a few pro- 
 vinces ; and it is probable that in an age or 
 two the whole breed will be utterly extirpated. 
 Mr. Buffbn. indeed, observes, that in those 
 districts where it is mostly found, it seems to 
 maintain its usual plenty, and that the balance 
 between its destruction and increase is held 
 pretty even ; however, the number in general 
 is known to decrease; for wherever cultiva- 
 tion takes place, the beasts of nature are 
 known to retire. Many animals that once 
 flourished in the world may now be extinct; 
 and the descriptions of Aristotle and Pliny, 
 though taken from life, may be considered as 
 fabulous, as their archetypes are no longer 
 existing. 
 
 The fawns continue to follow the deer eight 
 or nine months in all ; and, upon separating, 
 their horns begin to appear simple, and with- 
 out antlers, the first year, as in those of the 
 stag kind." These they shed at the latter 
 
 a Buffon, vol. xii. p. 88. 
 
THE DEER KIND. 
 
 269 
 
 end of autumn, and renew during the winter ; 
 differing in this from the stag, who sheds them 
 in spring, and renews them in summer. When 
 the roe-buck's head is completely furnished, it 
 rubs the horns against the trees in the manner 
 of the stag, and thus strips them of the rough 
 skin and the blood-vessels, which no longer 
 contribute to their nourishment and growth. 
 When these fall, and new ones begin to appear, 
 the roe-buck does not retire as the stag to the 
 covert of the wood, but continues its usual 
 haunts, only keeping down its head to avoid 
 striking its horns against the branches of trees, 
 the pain of which it seems to feel with exqui- 
 site sensibility. The stag, who sheds his horns 
 in summer, is obliged to seek a retreat from 
 the flies, that at that time greatly incommode 
 him ; but the roe-buek, who sheds them in 
 winter, is under no such necessity ; and, con- 
 sequently, does not separate from its little 
 family, but keeps with the female all the year 
 round.* 
 
 As the growth of the roe-buck, and its arri- 
 val at maturity, is much speedier than that of 
 the stag, so its life is proportionably shorter. 
 It seldom is found to extend above twelve or 
 fifteen years ; and, if kept tame, it does not 
 live above six or seven. It is an animal of a 
 very delicate constitution, requiring variety of 
 food, air, and exercise. It must be paired 
 with a female, and kept in a park of at least a 
 hundred acres. They may easily be subdued, 
 but never thoroughly tamed. No arts can teach 
 them to be familiar with the feeder, much less 
 attached to him. They still preserve a part 
 of their natural wildness, and are subject to 
 terrors without a cause. They sometimes, in 
 attempting to escape, strike themselves with 
 such force against the walls of their enclosure, 
 that they break their limbs, and become utterly 
 disabled. Whatever care is taken to tame 
 them, they are never entirely to be relied on, 
 as they have capricious fits of fierceness, and 
 sometimes strike at those they dislike with a 
 degree of force that is very dangerous. 
 
 The cry of the roe-buck is neither so loud 
 nor so frequent as that of the stag. The young 
 ones have a particular manner of calling to 
 the dam, which the hunters easily imitate, and 
 often thus allure the female to her destruction. 
 Upon some occasions also they become in a 
 
 Button, vol. xii. p. 88. 
 
 manner intoxicated with their food, which, 
 during the spring, is said to ferment in their 
 stomachs, and they are then very easily taken. 
 In summer they keep close under covert of the 
 forest, and seldom venture out, except in 
 violent heats, to drink at some river or foun- 
 tain. In general, however, they are contented 
 to slake their thirst with the dew that falls on 
 the grass and the leaves of trees, and seldom 
 risk their safety to satisfy their appetite. They 
 delight chiefly in hilly grounds, preferring the 
 tender branches and buds of trees to corn, or 
 other vegetables ; and it is universally allowed 
 that the flesh of those between one and two 
 years old is the greatest delicacy that is known. 
 Perhaps, also, the scarceness of it enhances its 
 flavour. 
 
 In America this animal is much more com- 
 mon than in Europe. With us there are but 
 two known varieties ; the red, which is the 
 largest sort ; and the brown, with a spot be- 
 hind, which is less. But in the new continent 
 the breed is extremely numerous, and the 
 varieties in equal proportion. In Louisiana, 
 where they are extremely common, they are 
 much larger than in Europe, and the inhabi- 
 tants live in a great measure upon its flesh, 
 which tastes like mutton when well fatted. 
 They are found also in Brasil, where they 
 have the name of cugacu apara, only differing 
 from ours in some slight deviations in the 
 horns. This animal is also said to be common 
 in China ; although such as have described it 
 seem to confound it with the musk goat, which 
 is of a quite different nature. 
 
 THE ELK. 
 
 WE have hitherto been describing minute 
 animals in comparison of the elk ; the size of 
 which, from concurrent testimony, appears to 
 be equal to that of the elephant itself. It is an 
 animal rather of the buck than the stag kind, 
 as its horns are flatted towards the top ; but it 
 is fur beyond both in stature, some of them be- 
 ing known to be above ten feet high. It is a 
 native both of the old and new continent, being 
 known in Europe under the name of the elk, 
 and in America by that of the moose-deer. It 
 is sometimes taken in the German and Russian 
 forests, although seldom appearing ; but it is 
 extremely common in North America, where 
 
 2X 
 
270 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 the natives pursue, and track it in the snow. 
 The accounts of this animal are extremely 
 various ; some describing it as being no higher 
 than a horse, and others above twelve feet 
 high. 
 
 As the stature of this creature makes its chief 
 peculiarity, so it were to be wished that we 
 could come to some precision upon that head. 
 If we were to judge of its size by the horns, 
 which are sometimes fortuitously dug up in 
 many parts of Ireland, we should not be much 
 amiss in ascribing them to an animal at least 
 ten feet high. One of these I have seen, which 
 was ten feet nine inches from one tip to the 
 other. From such dimensions it is easy to per- 
 ceive that it required an animal far beyond the 
 size of a horse to support them. To bear a 
 head with such extensive and heavy antlers, 
 required no small degree of strength ; and 
 without all doubt the bulk of the body must 
 have been proportionable to the size of the 
 horns. I remember some years ago, to have 
 seen a small moose-deer, which was brought 
 from America, by a gentleman of Ireland : it 
 was about the size of a horse, and the horns 
 were very little larger than those of a common 
 stag : this, therefore, serves to prove that the 
 horns bear an exact proportion to the animal's 
 size ; the small elk has but small horns ; 
 whereas those enormous ones, which we have 
 described above, must have belonged to a pro- 
 portionable creature. In all the more noble 
 animals, nature observes a perfect symmetry ; 
 and it is not to be supposed she fails in this 
 single instance. We have no reason, therefore, 
 to doubt the accounts of Jocelyn and Dudley, 
 who affirm that they have been found fourteen 
 spans ; which at nine inches to a span, makes 
 the animal almost eleven feet high. Others 
 have extended their accounts to twelve and 
 fourteen feet, which makes this creature one 
 of the most formidable of the forest. 
 
 There is but very little difference between 
 the European elk and the American moose- 
 deer, as they are but varieties of the same ani- 
 mal. It may be rather larger in America 
 than with us ; as in the forests of that un- 
 peopled country, it receives less disturbance 
 than in our own. In all places, however it is 
 timorous and gentle ; content with its pasture, 
 and never willing to disturb any other animal, 
 when supplied itself. The European elk 
 grows to above seven or eight feet high. In 
 
 the year 1742, there was a female of this ani- 
 mal shown at Paris, which was caught in a 
 forest of Red Russia, belonging to the Cham 
 of Tartary ;* it was then but young, and its 
 height was even at that time six feet seven 
 inches ; but the describer observes, that it has 
 since become much taller and thicker, so that 
 we may suppose this female at least seven feet 
 high. There have been no late opportunities 
 of seeing the male ; but, by the rule of propor- 
 tion, we may estimate his size at eight or nine 
 feet at the least, which is about twice as high 
 as an ordinary horse. The height, however, 
 of the female, which was measured, was but 
 six feet seven inches, Paris measure; or almost 
 seven English feet high. It was ten feet from 
 the tip of the nose to the insertion of the tail ; 
 and eight feet round the body. The hair waa 
 very long and coarse, like that of a wild boar. 
 The ears resembled those of a mule, and were 
 a foot and a half long. The upper jaw was 
 longer by six inches than the lower ; and, like 
 other ruminating animals, it had no teeth, (cut- 
 ting-teeth, I suppose the describer means.) It 
 had a large beard under the throat, like a 
 goat ; and in the middle of the forehead, be- 
 tween the horns, there was a bone as large as 
 an egg. The nostrils were four inches long on 
 each side of the mouth. It made use of its 
 fore-feet, as a defence against its enemies. 
 Those who showed it, asserted that it ran with 
 astonishing swiftness ; and that it swam also 
 with equal expedition, and was very fond of 
 the water. They gave it thirty pounds of 
 bread every day, besides hay, and it drank 
 eight buckets of water. It was tame and 
 familiar, and submissive enough to its keeper. 
 This description differs in many circumstan- 
 ces from that which we have of the moose, or 
 American elk, which the French call the ori- 
 ginal. Of these there are two kinds, the com- 
 mon light gray moose, which is not very large; 
 and the black moose, which grows to an enor- 
 mous height. Mr. Dudley observe.;, that a 
 doe or hind of the black moose kind, of the 
 fourth year, wanted but an inch of seven feet 
 high. All, however, of both kinds, have flat, 
 palmed horns, not unlike the fallow dt-er, only 
 that the palrn is much larger, having a short 
 trunk at the head, and then immediately 
 spreading above a foot broad, with a kind of 
 
 a Dictioiinaire Raisonee des Animaux, Au Nom, Elan. 
 
THE DEER KIND. 
 
 271 
 
 small antlers, like teeth on one of the edges. 
 In this particular, all of the elk kind agree ; as 
 well the European elk, as the gray and the 
 black moose-deer. 
 
 The gray moose deer is about the size of a 
 horse ; and, although it has large buttocks, its 
 tail is not above an inch long. As, in all of 
 this kind, the upper lip is much longer than the 
 under, it is said that they continue to go back- 
 ward as they feed. Their nostrils are so large 
 that a man may thrust his hand in a consider- 
 able way ; and their horns are as long as those 
 of a stag, but, as was observed, much broader. 
 
 The black moose is the enormous animal 
 mentioned above, from eight to twelve feet 
 high. Jocelyn, who is the first English wri- 
 ter that mentions it, says, that it is a goodly 
 creature, twelve feet high, with exceeding fair 
 horns, that have broad palms, two fathoms 
 from the top of one horn to another. He as- 
 sures us that it is a creature, or rather a mon- 
 ster of superfluity, and many times bigger than 
 an English ox. This account is confirmed by 
 Dudley ; but he does not give so great an ex- 
 pansion to the horns, measuring them only 
 thirty-one inches between one tip and the other ; 
 however, that such an extraordinary animal as 
 Jocelyn describes, has actually existed, we can 
 make no manner of doubt of, since there are 
 horns common enough to be seen among us, 
 twelve feet from one tip to the other. 
 
 These animals delight in cold countries, feed- 
 ing upon grass in summer, and the bark of trees 
 in winter. When the whole country is deep- 
 ly covered with snow, the moose-deer herd to- 
 gether under the tall pine-trees, strip off the 
 bark, and remain in that part of the forest while 
 it yields them subsistence. It is at that time 
 that the natives prepare to hunt them : and par- 
 ticularly when the sun begins to melt the snow 
 by day, which is frozen again at night ; for 
 then the icy crust which covers the surface of 
 the snow, is too weak to support so great a 
 bulk, and only retards the animal's motion. 
 When the Indians, therefore, perceive a herd 
 of these at a distance, they immediately pre- 
 pare for their pursuit, which is not, as with us, 
 the sport of an hour, but is attended with toil, 
 difficulty, and danger." The timorous animal 
 no sooner observes its enemies approach, than 
 it immediately endeavours to escape, but sinks 
 
 Phil. Trans, vol. ii. p. 436. 
 
 at every step it takes. Still, however, it pur- 
 sues its way through a thousand obstacles : the 
 snow, which is usually four feet deep, yields 
 to its weight, and embarrasses its speed ; the 
 sharp ice wounds its feet ; and its lof'y horns 
 are entangled in the branches of the forest, as 
 it passes along. The trees, however, are bro- 
 ken down with ease ; and wherever the moose- 
 deer runs, it is perceived by the snapping off 
 the branches of the trees, as thick as a man's 
 thigh, with its horns. The chase lasts in this 
 manner for the whole day ; and sometimes he 
 has been known to continue for two, nay three 
 days together; for the pursuers are often not 
 less excited by famine, than the pursued by fear. 
 Their perseverance, however, generally suc- 
 ceeds ; and the Indian who first comes near 
 enough, darts his lance, with unerring aim, 
 which sticks in the poor animal, and at first 
 increases its efforts to escape. In this manner 
 the moose trots heavily on, (for that is its 
 usual pace,) till its pursuers once more come up, 
 and repeat their blow: upon this, it again sum- 
 mons up sufficient vigour to get a-head ; but, 
 at last, quite tired, and spent with loss of blood, 
 it sinks, as the describer expresses it, like a ruin- 
 ed building, and makes the earth shake be- 
 neath its fall. 
 
 This animal, when killed, is a very valuable 
 acquisition to the hunters. The flesh is very 
 well tasted, and said to be very nourishing. 
 The hide is strong, and so thick that it has been 
 often known to turn a musket-ball ; however, 
 it is soft and pliable, and, when tanned, the leath- 
 er is extremely light, yet very lasting. The 
 fur is a light gray in some, and blackish in 
 others ; and when viewed through a microscope, 
 appears spongy like a bulrush, and is smaller 
 at the roots and points than in the middle ; for 
 this reason, it lies very flat and smooth, and 
 though beaten or abused never so much, it al- 
 ways returns to its former state. The horns 
 also are not less useful, being applied to all the 
 purposes for which hartshorn is beneficial : 
 these are different in different animals ; in some 
 they resemble entirely those of the European 
 elk, which spread into a broad palm, with small 
 antlers on one of the edges ; in others they 
 have a branched brow-antler between the bur 
 and the palm, which the German elk has not: 
 and in this they entirely agree with those 
 who-e horns are frequently dug up in Ireland. 
 This animal is said to be troubled with the epi- 
 
272 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 lepsy, as it is often found to fall down when 
 pursued, and thus becomes an easier prey ; for 
 tliH reason, an imaginary virtue has been as- 
 cribed to the hinder hoof, which some have 
 supposed to be a specific against all epileptic 
 disorders. This, however, may be considered 
 as a vulgar error ; as well as that of its curing 
 itself of this disorder by applying the hinder 
 hoof behind the ear. After all, this animal is 
 but very indifferently and confusedly described 
 by travellers ; each mixing his account with 
 something false or trivial; often mistaking some 
 other quadruped for the elk, and confounding 
 its history. Thus some have mistaken it for 
 the rein-deer, which, in every thing but size, 
 it greatly resembles ; some have supposed it to 
 be the same with the tapurette," from which 
 it entirely differs ; some have described it as 
 the common red American stag, which scarce- 
 ly differs from our own ; and, lastly, some 
 have confounded it with the bubalus, which is 
 more properly a gazelle of Africa. b 
 
 THE REIN-DEER. 
 
 OF all animals of the deer kind, the rein- 
 deer is the most extraordinary and the most 
 useful. It is a native of the icy regions of tin- 
 north ; and though many attempts have been 
 made to accustom it to a more southern climate, 
 it shortly feels the influence of the change, and 
 in a few months declines and dies. Nature 
 seems to have fitted it entirely to answer the 
 necessities of that hardy race of mankind that 
 live near the pole. As these would find it im- 
 possible to subsist among their barren snowy 
 mountains without its aid, so this animal can 
 live only there, when its assistance is most ab- 
 solutely necessary. From it alone the natives 
 of Lapland and Greenland supply most of 
 their wants ; it answers the purposes of a 
 horse, to convey them and their scanty furni- 
 ture from one mountain to another; it answers 
 the purposes of a cow, in giving milk ; and it 
 answers the purposes of the sheep, in furnish- 
 ing them with a warm, though an homely 
 kind of clothing. From this quadruped alone, 
 therefore, they receive as many advantages as 
 
 a Condamine. b Dapper, Description de 1'Afri- 
 
 que, p. 17. 
 
 c For the greatest part of this description of the rein- 
 
 we derive from three of our most useful crea- 
 tures ; so that Providence does not leave these 
 poor outcasts entirely destitute, but gives them 
 a faithful domestic, more patient and service- 
 able than any other in nature. 
 
 The rein-deer resembles the American elk 
 in the fashion of its horns. It is not easy in 
 words to describe these minute differences; 
 nor will the reader, perhaps, have a distinct 
 idea of the similitude, when told that both have 
 brow-antlers, very large, and hanging over 
 their eyes, palmated towards the top, and bend- 
 ing forward like a bow. But here the simili- 
 tude between these two animals ends ; for, as 
 the elk is much larger than the stag, so the 
 rein-deer is much smaller. It is lower and 
 stronger built than the stag ; its legs are shorter 
 and thicker, and its hoofs much broader than 
 in that animal ; its hair is much thicker and 
 warmer; its horns much larger in proportion, 
 and branching forward over its eyes; its 
 ears are much larger ; its pace is rather a 
 trot than a bounding, and this it can continue 
 for a whole day ; its hoofs are cloven and 
 moveable, so that it spreads them abroad as it 
 goes, to prevent its sinking in the snow. 
 When it proceeds on a journey, it lays its great 
 horns on its back, while there are two branches 
 which always hang over its forehead, and al- 
 most covers its face. One thing seems peculiar 
 to this animal and the elk ; which is, that as 
 they move along, their hoofs are heard to crack 
 with a pretty loud noise. This arises from 
 their manner of treading ; for as they rest upon 
 their cloven hoof, it spreads on the ground, 
 and the two divisions separate from each other, 
 but when they lift it, the divisions close again, 
 and strike against each other with a crack. 
 The female also of the rein-deer has horns as 
 well as the male, by which the species is dis- 
 tinguished from all other animals of the deer 
 kind whatsoever. 
 
 When the rein-deer first shed their coat of 
 hair, they are brown ; but in proportion as 
 summer approaches, their hair begins to grow 
 whitish ; until, at last, they are nearly gray.' 
 They are, however, always black about the 
 eyes. The neck has long hair, hanging down, 
 and coarser than upon any other part of the 
 
 deer, I am obliged to Mr. Hoffberg ; upon whose authori- 
 ty, being a native of Sweden, and an experienced natu- 
 ralist, we may confidently rely. 
 
THE DEER KIND. 
 
 273 
 
 body. The feet, just at the insertion of the 
 hoof, are surrounded with a ring of white. 
 The hair in general stands so thick over the 
 whole body, that if one should attempt to se- 
 parate it, the skin will no where appear un- 
 covered : whenever it falls also, it is not seen 
 to drop from the root, as in other quadrupeds, 
 but seems broken short near the bottom ; so 
 that the lower part of the hair is seen growing, 
 while the upper falls away. The horns of the 
 female are made like those of the male, except 
 that they are smaller and less branching. As 
 in the rest of the deer kind, they sprout from 
 the points; and also in the beginning are fur- 
 nished with an hairy crust, which supports 
 the blood-vessels of most exquisite sensibility. 
 The rein-deer shed their horns, after rutting 
 time, at the latter end of November ; and they 
 are not completely furnished again till towards 
 autumn. The female always retains hers till 
 she brings forth, and then sheds them about 
 the beginning of November. If she be bar- 
 ren, however, which is not unfrequently the 
 case, she does not shed them till winter. The 
 castration of the rein-deer does not prevent 
 the shedding of their horns : those which are 
 the strongest cast them early in winter; those 
 which are more weakly not so soon. Thus, 
 from all these circumstances, we see how great- 
 ly this animal differs from the common stag. 
 The female of the rein-deer has horns, which 
 the hind is never seen to have ; the rein-deer, 
 when castrated, renews its horns, which we 
 are assured the stag never does : it differs not 
 less in its habits and manner of living, being 
 tame, submissive, and patient ; while the stag 
 is wild, capricious, and unmanageable. 
 
 The rein-deer, as was said, is naturally an 
 inhabitant of the countries bordering on the 
 arctic circle. It is not unknown to the natives 
 of Siberia. The North Americans also hunt 
 it under the name of the caribou. But in Lap- 
 land, this animal is converted to the utmost 
 advantage ; and some herdsmen of that coun- 
 try are known to possess above a thousand in 
 a single herd. 
 
 Lapland is divided into two districts, the 
 mountainous and the woody. The mountain- 
 ous part of the country is at best barren and 
 bleak.excessively cold, and uninhabitable du- 
 ring the winter; still, however, it is the most 
 desirable part of this frightful region, and is 
 
 most thickly peopled during the summer. 
 The natives generally reside on the declivity 
 of the mountains, three or four cottages toge- 
 ther, and lead a cheerful and social life. 
 Upon the approach of winter, they are oblig- 
 ed to migrate into the plains below, each 
 bringing down his whole herd, which often 
 amounts to more than a thousand, and leading 
 them where the pasture is in greatest plenty. 
 The woody part of the country is much more 
 desolate and hideous. The whole face of 
 nature there presents a frightful scene of trees 
 without fruit, and plains without verdure. As 
 far as the eye can reach, nothing is to be seen, 
 even in the midst of summer, but barren fields, 
 covered only with a moss, almost as white as 
 snow ; no grass, no flowery landscapes, only 
 here and there a pine-tree, which may have 
 escaped the frequent conflagrations by which 
 the natives burn down their forests. But what 
 is very extraordinary, as the whole surface of 
 the country is clothed in white, so, on the con- 
 trary, the forests seem to the last degree dark 
 and gloomy. While one kind of moss makes 
 the fields look as if they were covered with 
 snow, another kind blackens over all their 
 trees, and even hides their verdure. This 
 moss, however, which deforms the country, 
 serves for its only support, as upon it alone 
 the rein-deer can subsist. The inhabitants, 
 who, during the summer, lived among the 
 mountains, drive down their herds in winter, 
 and people the plains and woods below. 
 Such of the Laplanders as inhabit the woods 
 and the plains all the year round, live remote 
 from each other, and having been used to so- 
 litude, are melancholy, ignorant, and helpless. 
 They are much poorer also than the moun- 
 taineers ; for, while one of those is found to 
 possess a thousand rein-deer at a time, none 
 of these are ever known to rear the tenth part 
 of that number. The rein-deer makes the 
 riches of this people ; arid the cold mountain- 
 ous parts of the country agree best with its 
 constitution. It is for this reason, therefore, 
 that the mountains of Lapland are preferred 
 to the woods ; and that many claim an exclu- 
 sive right to tho tops of hills, covered in al- 
 most eternal snow. As soon as the summer 
 begins to appear, the Laplander, who had fed 
 his rein-deer upon the lower grounds during 
 ; the winter, then drives them up to the moun- 
 
274 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 tains, and leaves the woody country, and the 
 low pasture, which at that season are truly 
 deplorable. The gnats breed by the sun's 
 heat in the marshy bottoms and the weedy 
 lakes, with which the country abounds more 
 than any other part of the world, are all upon 
 the wing, and fill the whole air like clouds of 
 dust in a dry windy day. The inhabitants, 
 at that time, are obliged to daub their faces 
 with pitch, mixed with milk, to shield their 
 skins from their depredations: All places are 
 then so greatly infested, that the poor natives 
 can scarce open their mouths without fear of 
 suffocation ; the insects enter, from their num- 
 bers and minuteness, into the nostrils and the 
 eyes, and do not leave the sufferer a moment 
 at his ease. But they are chiefly enemies to 
 the rein-deer : the horns of that animal being 
 then in their tender state, and possessed of 
 extremesensibility, a famished cloud of insects 
 instantly settle upon them, and drive the poor 
 animal almost to distraction. In this extre- 
 mity, there are but two remedies to which the 
 quadruped, as well as its master, are obliged 
 to have recourse. The one is, for both to 
 take shelter near their cottage, where a large 
 fire of tree-moss is prepared, which tilling the 
 whole place with smoke, keeps off the gnat, 
 and thus by one inconvenience, expels a great- 
 er; the other is, to ascend to the highest sum- 
 mit of the mountains, where the air is too thin, 
 and the weather too cold, for the gnats to 
 come. There the rein-deer are seen to con- 
 tinue the whole day, although without food, 
 rather than to venturedown to the lower parts, 
 where they can have no defence against their 
 unceasing persecutors. Besides the gnat, 
 there is also a gadfly, that, during the summer 
 season, is no less formidable to them. This 
 insect is bred under their skins, where the egg 
 has been deposited the preceding summer; 
 and it is no sooner produced as a fly, than it 
 again endeavours to deposite its eggs in some 
 place similar to that from whence it came. 
 Whenever, therefore, it appears flying over 
 a herd of rein-deer, it puts the whole body, 
 how numerous soever, into motion; they know 
 their enemy, and do all they can, by tossing 
 their horns, and running among each other, 
 to terrify or avoid it. All their endeavours, 
 however, are too generally without effect; the 
 gadfly is seen to deposite its eggs, which bur- 
 
 rowing under the skin, wound it in several pla- 
 ces, and often bring on an incurable disorder. 
 In the morning, therefore, as soon as the Lap- 
 land herdsman drives his deer to pasture, his 
 greatest care is to keep them from scaling the 
 summits of the mountains where there is no 
 food, but where they go merely to be at ease 
 from the gnats and gadflies that are ever an- 
 noying them. At this time there is a strong 
 contest between the dogs and the deer ; the 
 one endeavouring to climb up against the side 
 of the hill, and to gain those summits that are 
 covered in eternal snows ; the other ibrcing 
 them down, by barking and threatening, and, 
 in a manner, compelling them into the places 
 where their food is in the greatest plenty. 
 There the men and dogs confine them ; guard- 
 ing them with the utmost precaution the whole 
 day, and driving them home at the proper sea- 
 sons for milking. 
 
 The female brings forth in the middle of May, 
 and gives milk till about the middle of Octo- 
 ber. Every morning and evening, during the 
 summer, the herdsman returns to the cottage 
 with his deer to be milked, where the women 
 previously have kindled up asmoky fire, which 
 effectually drives off the gnats, and keeps the 
 rein-deer quiet while milking. The female 
 furnishes about a pint, which, though thinner 
 than that of the cow, is, nevertheless, sweeter, 
 and more nourishing. This done, the herds- 
 man drives them back to pasture ; as he nei- 
 ther folds nor houses them, neither provides 
 for their subsistence during the winter, nor 
 improves their pasture by cultivation. 
 
 Upon the return of the winter, when the 
 gnats and flies are no longer to be feared, the 
 Laplander descends into the lower grounds; 
 and as there are but few to dispute the pos- 
 session of that desolate country, he has an 
 extensive range to feed them in. Their chief, 
 and almost their only food at that time, is the 
 white moss already mentioned ; which, from 
 its being fed upon by this animal, obtains the 
 name of the lichen rangiferimus. This is of two 
 kinds ; the woody lichen, which covers almost 
 all the desert parts of the country like snow; 
 the other is black, and covers the branches 
 of the trees in very grent quantities. How- 
 ever unpleasing these may be to the specta- 
 tor, the native esteems them as one of his 
 choicest benefits, and the most indulgent gift 
 
THE DEER KIND. 
 
 275 
 
 of nature. While his fields are clothed with 
 moss, he envies neither the fertility nor the 
 verdureof the more southern landscape; dress- 
 ed up warmly in his deer-skin clothes, with 
 shoes and gloves of the same materials, he 
 drives his herds along the desert, fearless and 
 at ease, ignorant of any higher luxury than 
 what their milk and smoke-dried flesh affords 
 him. Hardened to the climate, he sleeps in 
 the midst of ice ; or awaking, dozes away his 
 time with tobacco; while his faithful dogs sup- 
 ply his place, and keep the herd from wander- 
 ing. The deer, in the meantime, with instincts 
 adapted to the soil, pursue their food, though 
 covered in the deepest snow. They turn it 
 up with their noses, like swine; and, even 
 though its surface be frozen and stiff, yet the 
 hide is so hardened in that part, that they easi- 
 ly overcome the difficulty. It sometimes, how- 
 ever, happens, though but rarely, that the win- 
 ter commences with rain, and a frost ensuing, 
 covers the whole country with a glazed crust 
 of ice. Then, indeed, both the rein-deer and 
 the Laplander are undone ; they have no pro- 
 visions laid up in case of accident, and the 
 only resource is to cut down the large pine- 
 trees that are covered with moss, which fur- 
 nishes but a scanty supply ; so that the great- 
 est part of the herd is then seen to perish 
 without a possibility of assistance. It some- 
 times also happens, that even this supply is 
 wanting; for the Laplander often burns down 
 his woods, in order to improve and fertilize 
 the soil which produces the moss, upon which 
 he feeds his cattle. 
 
 In this manner, the pastoral life is still con- 
 tinued near the pole ; neither the coldness of 
 the winter, nor the length of the nights ; nei- 
 ther the wildness of the forests,nor the vagrant 
 disposition of the herd, interrupt the even te- 
 nour of the Laplander's life. By night and 
 day he is seen attending his favourite cattle, 
 and remains unaffected, in a season which 
 would be speedy death to those bred up in 
 a milder climate. He gives himself no un- 
 easiness to house his herds, or to provide a 
 winter subsistence for them ; he is at the trou- 
 ble neither of manuring his grounds, nor bring- 
 ing in his harvest ; he is not the hireling of 
 another's luxury; all his labours are to obviate 
 the necessities of his own situation ; and these 
 he undergoes with cheerfulness, as he is sure 
 
 NO. 23 & 24. 
 
 to enjoy the fruits of his own industry. If, 
 therefore, we compare the Laplander with 
 the peasant of more southern climates, we 
 shall have little reason to pity his situation ; 
 the climate in which he lives is rather terri- 
 ble to us than to him ; and as for the rest, he 
 is blessed with liberty, plenty, and ease. The 
 rein-deer alonesupplies him with all the wants 
 of life, and some of the conveniences ; ser- 
 ving to show how many advantages nature is 
 capable of supplying, when necessity gives 
 the call. Thus the poor, little helpless native, 
 who was originally, perhaps, driven by fear or 
 famine into those inhospitable climates, would 
 seem, at first view, to be the most wretched 
 of mankind : but it is far otherwise ; he looks 
 round among the few wild animals that his 
 barren country can maintain, and singles out 
 one from among them,and that of a kind which 
 the rest of mankind have not thought worth 
 taking from a state of nature ; this he culti- 
 vates, propagates, and multiplies ; and from 
 this alone derives every comfort that can sof- 
 ten the severity of his situation. 
 
 The rein-deer of this country are of two 
 kinds, the wild and the tame. The wild are 
 larger and stronger, but more mischievous 
 than the others. Their breed, however, is 
 preferred to that of the tame; and the female 
 of the latter is often sent into the woods, from 
 whence she returns home impregnated by one 
 of the wild kind. These are fitter for draw- 
 ing the sledge, to which the Laplander accus- 
 toms them betimes, and yokes them to it by 
 a strap, which goes round the neck, arid 
 comes down between their legs. The sledge 
 is extremely light, and shod at the bottom 
 with the skin of a young deer, the hair turned 
 to slide on the frozen snow. The person who 
 sits on this, guides the animal with a cord, 
 fastened round the horns, and encourages it 
 to proceed with his voice, and drives it with 
 a goad. Some of the wild breed, though by 
 far the strongest, are yet found refractory, and 
 often turn upon their drivers ; who have then 
 no other resource but to cover themselves 
 with their sledge, and let the animal vent its 
 fury upon that. But it is otherwise with those 
 that are tame ; no creature can be more ac- 
 tive, patient, and willing : when hard pushed 
 they will trot nine or ten Swedish miles, or 
 between fifty and sixty English miles, at one 
 2 Y 
 
276 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 stretch. But, in such a case, the poor obedi- 
 ent creature fatigues itself to death, and, if 
 riot prevented by the Laplander, who kills it 
 immediately, it will die a day or two after. 
 In general, they can go about thirty miles 
 without halting, and this without any great or 
 dangerous efforts. This, which is the only 
 manner of travelling in that country, can be 
 performed only in winter, when the snow 
 is glazed over with ice; and although it 
 be a very speedy method of conveyance, 
 yet it is inconvenient, dangerous, and trouble- 
 some. 
 
 In order to make these animals more obedi- 
 ent, and more generally serviceable, they 
 castrate them: this operation the Laplanders 
 perform with their teeth ; these become soon- 
 er fat when taken from labour; and they are 
 found to be stronger in drawing the sledge. 
 There is usually one male left entire for every 
 six females; these are in rut from the Feast 
 of St. Matthew to about Michaelmas. At this 
 time, their horns are thoroughly burnished, 
 and their battles among each other are fierce 
 and obstinate. The females do not begin to 
 breed till they are two years old ; and then 
 they continue regularly breeding every year 
 till they are superannuated. They go with 
 young above eight months, and generally 
 bring forth two at a time. The fondness of 
 the dam for her young is very remarkable ; it 
 often happens that when they are separated 
 from her, she will return from pasture, keep 
 calling round the cottage for them, and will 
 not desist until, dead or alive, they are 
 brought and laid at her feet. They are at 
 first of a light brown ; but they become dark- 
 er with age; and at last the old ones are of a 
 brown, almost approaching to blackness. The 
 young follow the dam for two or three years; 
 but they do not acquire their full growth until 
 four. They are then broke in, and managed 
 for drawing the sledge ; and they continue 
 serviceable for four or five years longer. 
 They never live above fifteen or sixteen 
 years ; and when they arrive at the proper 
 age, the Laplander generally kills them for 
 the sake of their skins and their flesh. This 
 he performs by striking them on the back of 
 the neck with his knife into the spinal mar- 
 row ; upon which they instantly fall, and he 
 then cuts the arteries that lead to the heart. 
 
 and lets the blood discharge itself into the 
 cavity of the breast. 
 
 There is scarce any part of this animal that 
 is not converted to its peculiar uses. As 
 soon as it begins to grow old, and some time 
 before the rut, it is killed, and the flesh dried 
 in the air. It is also sometimes hardened 
 with smoke, and laid up for travelling provi- 
 sion, when the natives migrate from one part 
 of the country to another. During the winter, 
 the rein-deer are slaughtered as sheep with 
 us; and every four persons in the family are 
 allowed one rein-deer for their week's subsist- 
 ence. In spring, they spare the herd as 
 much as they can, and live upon fresh fish. 
 In summer, the milk and curd of the rein-deer 
 makes their chief provision; and, in autumn, 
 they live wholly upon fowls, which they kill 
 with a cross-bow, or catch in springes. Nor 
 is this so scanty an allowance ; since, at that 
 time, the sea-fowls come in such abundance 
 that their ponds and springs are covered over. 
 These are not so shy as with us, but yield 
 themselves an easy prey. They are chiefly 
 allured to those places by the swarms of gnats 
 which infest the country during the summer, 
 arid now repay the former inconveniences, by 
 inviting sucn numbers of birds as supply the 
 natives with food a fourth part of the year, in 
 great abundance. 
 
 The milk, when newly taken, is warmed in 
 a caldron, and thickened with rennet; and 
 then the curd is pressed into cheeses, which 
 are little and well tasted. These are never 
 found to breed mites as the cheese of other 
 countries; probably because the mite-fly is 
 not to be found in Lapland. The whey which 
 remains is warmed up again, and becomes of 
 a consistence as if thickened with the white 
 of eggs. Upon this the Laplanders feed du- 
 ring the summer; it is pleasant and well 
 tasted, but not very nourishing. As to butter, 
 they very seldom make any, because the milk 
 affords but a very small quantity, and this, 
 both in taste and consistence, is more nearly 
 resembling to suet. They never keep their 
 milk till it turns sour; and do not dress it into 
 the variety of dishes which the more southern 
 countries are known to do. The only deli- 
 cacy they make from it is with wood-sorrel, 
 which being boiled up with it, and coagina- 
 ting, the whole is put into casks, or deer 
 
THE DEER KIND. 
 
 277 
 
 skins, and kept under ground to be eaten in 
 winter. 
 
 The skin is even a more valuable part of 
 this animal than either of the former. From 
 that part of it which covered the head and 
 feet, they make their strong snow-shoes with 
 the hair on the outside. Of the other parts 
 they compose their garments, which are ex- 
 tremely warm, and which cover them all over. 
 The hair of these also is on the outside; and 
 they sometimes line them with the fur of the 
 glutton, or some other warm-furred animal of 
 that climate. These skins also serve them 
 for beds. They spread them on each side of 
 the fire, upon some leaves of the dwarf birch- 
 tree, and in this manner lie both soft and 
 warm. Many garments made of the skin of 
 the rein-deer are sold every year to the in- 
 habitants of the more southern parts of Eu- 
 rope ; and they are found so serviceable in 
 keeping out the cold, that even people of the 
 first rank are known to wear them. 
 
 In short, no part of this animal is thrown 
 away as useless. The blood is preserved in 
 small casks, to make sauce with the marrow 
 in spring. The horns are sold to be convert- 
 ed into glue. The sinews are dried, and 
 divided so as to make the strongest kind of 
 sewing thread, not unlikecatgut. Thetongu.es, 
 which are considered as a great delicacy, 
 are dried, and sold into the more southern 
 provinces. The intestines themselves are 
 washed like our tripe, and in high esteem 
 among the natives. Thus the Laplander 
 finds all his necessities amply supplied from 
 this single animal, and he who has a large 
 herd of these animals has no idea of higher 
 luxury. 
 
 But although the rein-deer be a very hardy 
 and vigorous animal, it is not without its dis- 
 eases. I have already mentioned the pain it 
 feels from the gnat, and the apprehensions it 
 is under from the gadfly. Its hide is often 
 found pierced in a hundred places, like a 
 sieve, from this insect, and not a few die in 
 their third year from this very cause. Their 
 teats also are subject to cracking, so that 
 blood comes instead of milk. They some- 
 times take a loathing for their food ; and, in- 
 stead of eating, stand still and chew the cud. 
 They are also troubled with a vertigo, like 
 the elk, and turn round often till they die. 
 
 The Laplander judges of their state by the 
 manner of their turning. If they turn to the 
 right, he judges their disorder but slight; if 
 they turn to the left, he deems it incurable. 
 The rein-deer are also subject to ulcers near 
 the hoof, which unqualifies them for travel- 
 ling, or keeping with the herd. But the most 
 fatal disorder of all is that which the natives 
 call the suddataka, which attacks this animal 
 at all seasons of the year. The instant it is 
 seized with this disease, it begins to breathe 
 with great difficulty; its eyes begin to stare, 
 and its nostrils to expand. It acquires also 
 an unusual degree of ferocity, and attacks all 
 it meets indiscriminately. Still, however, it 
 continues to feed as if in health, but is not 
 seen to chew the cud, and it lies down more 
 frequently than before. In this manner it 
 continues, every day consuming and growing 
 more lean, till at last it dies from mere inani- 
 tion : and not one of these that are attacked 
 with this disorder are ever found to recover. 
 Notwithstanding it is but very lately known 
 in that part of the world; although, during 
 the last ten or fifteen years, it has spoiled 
 whole provinces of this necessary creature. 
 It is contagious ; and the moment the Laplan- 
 der perceives any of his herd infected, he 
 hastens to kill them immediately before it 
 spreads any farther. When examined inter- 
 nally, there is a frothy substance found in the 
 brain, and round the lungs ; the intestines 
 are lax and flabby, and the spleen is dimin- 
 ished almost to nothing. The Laplander's 
 only cure in all these disorders, is to anoint 
 the animal's back with tar ; if this docs not 
 succeed, he considers the disease as beyond 
 the power of art ; and, with his natural 
 phlegm, submits to the severities of fortune. 
 Besides the internal maladies of this animal, 
 there are some external enemies which it has 
 to fear. The bears now and then make de- 
 predations upon the herd ; but of all their 
 persecutors, the cretuare called the glutton is 
 the most dangerous and the most successful. 
 The war between these is carried on not less 
 in Lapland than in North America, where 
 the rein-deer is called the carribou, and the 
 glutton the carcajou. This animal, which is 
 not above the size of a badger, waits whole 
 weeks together for its prey, hid in the 
 branches of some spreading tree ; and when 
 2 Y* 
 
278 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 the wild rein-deer passes underneath, it in- 
 stantly drops down upon it, fixing its teeth 
 and claws into the neck, just behind the horns. 
 It is in vain that the wounded animal then flies 
 for protection, that it rustles among the 
 branches of the forest, the glutton still holds 
 its former position, and, although it often loses 
 a part of its skin and flesh, which are rubbed 
 
 off against the trees, yet it still keeps fast, 
 until its prey drops with fatigue and loss of 
 blood. The deer has but one only method 
 of escape, which is by jumping into the water; 
 that element its enemy cannot endure; for, 
 as we are told, it quits its hold immediately, 
 and then thinks only of providing for its own 
 proper security. 
 
THE HOG KIND. 
 
 279 
 
 QUADRUPEDS OF THE HOG KIND. 
 
 CHAPTER XL VI. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 ANIMALS of the hog kind seem to unite 
 in themselves all those distinctions by which 
 others are separated. They resemble those 
 of the horse kind in the number of their teeth, 
 which in all amount to forty-four, in the 
 length of their head, and in having but a 
 single stomach. They resemble the cow 
 kind in their cloven hoofs and the position of 
 their intestines ; and they resemble those of 
 the claw-footed kind in their appetite for 
 flesh, in their not chewing the cud, and in 
 their numerous progeny. Thus this species 
 serves to fill up that chasm which is found be- 
 tween the carnivorous kinds and those that 
 live upon grass; being possessed of the raven- 
 ous appetites of the one, and the inoffensive 
 nature of the other. We may consider them, 
 therefore, as of a middle nature, which we 
 can refer neither to the rapacious nor the 
 peaceful kinds, and yet partaking somewhat 
 of the nature of both. Like the rapacious 
 kinds, they are found to have short intestines; 
 their hoofs also, though cloven to the sight, 
 will, upon anatomical inspection, appear to 
 be supplied with oones like beast of prey; 
 and the number of their teats also increase 
 the similitude ; on the other hand, in a natu- 
 ral state they live upon vegetables, and sel- 
 dom seek after animal food, except when 
 urged by necessity. They offend no other ani- 
 mal of the forest, at the same time that they 
 are furnished with arms to terrify the bravest. 
 
 THE WILD BOAR, 
 
 WHICH is the original of all the varieties 
 we find in this creature, is by no means so 
 
 stupid nor so filthy an animal as that we have 
 reduced to tameness ; he is much smaller 
 than the tame hog, and does not vary in his 
 colour as those of the domestic kind do, but 
 is always found of an iron gray, inclining to 
 black ; his snout is much longer than that of 
 the tame hog, and the ears are shorter, round 
 er, and black ; of which colour are also tht 
 feet and the tail. He roots the ground in a 
 different manner from the common hog ; for 
 as this turns up the earth in little spots here 
 and there, so the wild boar ploughs it up like 
 a furrow, and does irreparable damage in the 
 cultivated lands of the farmer. The tusks 
 also of this animal are larger than in the tame 
 breed, some of them being seen almost a foot 
 long." These, as is well known, grow from 
 both the under and upper jaw, bend upwards 
 circularly, and are exceedingly sharp at the 
 points. They differ from the tusks of the 
 elephant in this, that they never fall ; and it 
 is remarkable of all the hog kind, that they 
 never shed their teeth as other animals are 
 seen to do. The tusks of the lower jaw are 
 always the most to be dreaded, and are found 
 to give very terrible wounds. 
 
 The wild boar can properly be called 
 neither a solitary nor a gregarious animal. 
 The three first years the whole litter follows 
 the sow, and the family lives in a herd toge- 
 ther. They are then called beasts of com- 
 pany, and unite their common forces against 
 the invasions of the wolf, or the more formi- 
 dable beasts of prey. Upon this their prin- 
 cipal safety while young depends, for when 
 attacked they give each other mutual assist- 
 
 a Buffon, vol. ix. p. 147. 
 
280 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 ance, calling to each other with a very loud 
 and fierce note ; the strongest face the dan- 
 ger; they form a ring, and the weakest fall 
 into the centre. In this position few raven- 
 ous beasts dare venture to attack them, but 
 pursue the chase where there is less resist- 
 ance and danger. However, when the wild 
 boar is come to a state of maturity, and when 
 conscious of his own superior strength, he 
 then walks the forest alone and fearless. At 
 that time he dreads no single creature, nor 
 does he turn out of his way even for man him- 
 self. He does not seek danger, and he does 
 riot much seem to avoid it. 
 
 This animal is therefore seldom attacked, 
 but at a disadvantage, either by numbers, or 
 when found sleeping by moon-light. The 
 hunting the wild boar is one of the principal 
 amusements of the nobility in those countries 
 where it is to be found. The dogs provided 
 for this sport are of the slow heavy kind. 
 Those used for hunting the stag, or the roe- 
 buck, would be very improper, as they would 
 too soon come up with their prey ; and, in- 
 stead of a chase, would only furnish out an 
 engagement. A small mastiff is therefore cho- 
 sen ; nor are the hunters much mindful of the 
 goodness of their nose, as the wild boar leaves 
 so strong a scent, that it is impossible for 
 them to mistake its course. They never hunt 
 any but the largest and the oldest, which are 
 known by their tracks. When the boar is 
 reared, as is the expression for driving him 
 from his covert, he goes slowly and uniformly 
 forward, not much afraid, nor very far before 
 his pursuers. At the end of every half mile, 
 or thereabouts, he turns round, stops till the 
 hounds come up, and offers to attack them. 
 These, on the other hand, knowing their dan- 
 ger, keep off, and bay him at a distance. Af- 
 ter they have for a while gazed upon each 
 other with mutual animosity, the boar again 
 slowly goes on his course, and the dogs re- 
 new their pursuit. In this manner the charge 
 is sustained, and the chase continues till tlie 
 boar is quite tired, and refuses to go any far- 
 ther. The dogs then attempt to close in upon 
 him from behind; those which are young, 
 fierce, and unaccustomed to the chase, are 
 generally the foremost, and often lose their 
 lives by their ardour. Those which are older 
 and better trained are content to wait until 
 
 the hunters come up, who strike at him with 
 their spears, and, after several blows, despatch 
 or disable him. The instant the animal is 
 killed, they cut off the testicles, which would 
 otherwise give a taint to the flesh; and the 
 huntsmen celebrate the victory with their 
 horns. 
 
 THE HOG, 
 
 IN a natural state, is found to feed chiefly 
 upon roots and vegetables; it seldom attacks 
 any other animal,being content with such pro- 
 visions as it procures without danger. What- 
 ever animal happens to die in the forest, or 
 is so wounded that it can make no resistance, 
 becomes a prey to the hog, who seldom re- 
 fuses animal food, how putrid soever,although 
 it is never at the pains of taking or procuring 
 it alive. For this reason, it seems a glutton 
 rather by accident than choice, content with 
 vegetable food, and only devouring flesh when 
 pressed by necessity, and when it happens to 
 offer. Indeed, if we behold the hog in its do- 
 mestic state, it is the most sordid and brutal 
 animal in nature." The awkwardness of its 
 form seems to influence its appetites : and all 
 its sensations are as gross as its shapes are 
 unsightly. It seems possessed only of an in- 
 satiable desire of eating; and it seems to 
 make choice only of what other animals find 
 the most offensive. But we ought to consider 
 that the hog with us is in an unnatural state, 
 and that it is in a manner compelled to feed 
 in this filthy manner from wanting that pro- 
 per nourishment which it finds in the forest. 
 When in a state of wildness, it is of all other 
 quadrupeds the most delicate in the choice 
 of what vegetable it shall feed on, and rejects 
 a greater number than any of the rest. The 
 cow, for instance, as we are assured by Lin- 
 naeus, eats two hundred and seventy-six plants, 
 and rejects two hundred and eighteen; the 
 goat eats four hundred and forty-nine, and re- 
 jects a hundred and twenty-six; the sheep 
 eats three hundred and eighty-seven, and re- 
 jects a hundred and forty-one; the horse 
 eats two hundred and sixty-two, and rejects 
 two hundred and twelve ; but the hog, more 
 
 a Buffon, vol. ix. p. 14. 
 
THE HOG KIND. 
 
 281 
 
 nice in its provision than any of the former, 
 eat* but seventy-two plants, and rejects a 
 hundred and seventy-one. The indelicacy of 
 tins animal is, therefore, rather in our appre- 
 hensions than in its nature; since we find it 
 makes a very distinguishing choice in the 
 quality of its food ; and if it does not reject 
 animal putrefaction, it may be because it is 
 abridged in that food which is most whole- 
 some and agreeable to it in a state of nature. 
 This is certain, that its palate is not insen- 
 sible to the difference of eatables ; for, where 
 it finds variety, it will reject the worst, with 
 as distinguishing a taste as any other quad- 
 ruped whatsoever." In the orchards of peach- 
 trees in North America, where the hog has 
 plenty of delicious food, it is observed, that 
 it will reject the fruit that has lain but a few 
 hours on the ground, and continue on the 
 watch whole hours together for a fresh wind- 
 fall. 
 
 However, the hog is naturally formed in a 
 more imperfect manner than the other animals 
 that we have rendered domestic around us, 
 less active in its motions, less furnished with 
 instinct in knowing what to pursue or avoid. 
 Without attachment, and incapable of instruc- 
 tion, it continues, while it lives, an useless, or 
 rather a rapacious dependent. The coarse- 
 ness of its hair, and the thickness of its hide, 
 together with the thick coat of fat that lies 
 immediately under the skin, render it insen- 
 sible to blows, or rough usage. Mice have 
 been known to burrow in the back of these 
 animals while fattening in the sty, b witliout 
 their seeming to perceive it. Their other 
 senses seem to be in tolerable perfection ; 
 they scent the hounds at a distance; and, as 
 we have seen, they are not insensible in the 
 choice of their provisions. 
 
 The hog is, by nature, stupid, inactive, and 
 drowsy; if undisturbed, it would sleep half 
 its time; but it is frequently awaked by the 
 calls of appetite, which when it has satisfied, 
 it goes to rest again. Its whole life is thus a 
 round of sleep and gluttony; and if supplied 
 with sufficient food, it soon grows unfit even 
 for its own existence; its flesh becomes a grea- 
 ter load than its legs are able to support, and 
 it continues to feed lying down, or kneeling, 
 
 British Zoology, vol. i. p. 42. b Buflbn. 
 
 an helpless instance of indulged sensuality. 
 The only time it seems to have passions of a 
 more active nature, are, when it is incited by 
 venery, or when the wind blows with any ve- 
 hemence. Upon this occasion, it is so agita- 
 ted as to run violently towards its sty, scream- 
 ing horribly at the same time, which seems 
 to argue that it is naturally fond of a warm 
 climate. It appears also to foresee the ap- 
 proach of bad weather, bringing straw to its 
 sty in its mouth, preparing a bed, and hiding 
 itself from the impending storm. Nor is it 
 less agitated when it hears any of its kind in 
 distress : when a hog is caught in a gate, as 
 is often the case, or when it suffers any of the 
 usual domestic operations of ringing or spay- 
 ing, all the rest are then seen to gather round 
 it, to lend their fruitless assistance, and to sym- 
 pathize with its sufferings. They have often 
 also been known to gather round a dog that 
 had teazed them, and kill him upon the spot. 
 
 Most of the diseases of this animal arise 
 from intemperance; measles, imposthumes, 
 and scrofulous swellings, are reckoned among 
 the number. It is thought by some that they 
 wallow in the mire to destroy a sort of louse, 
 or insect, that is often found to infest them ; 
 however, they are generally known to live, 
 when so permitted, to eighteen or twenty years; 
 and the females produce till the age of fifteen. 
 As they produce from ten to twenty young at 
 a litter, and that twice a year, we may easily 
 compute how numerous they would shortly 
 become, if not diminished by human industry. 
 In the wild state they are less prolific; and 
 the sow of the woods brings forth but once a 
 year, probably because exhausted by rearing 
 up her former numerous progeny. 
 
 It would be superfluoustodwell longer upon 
 the nature and qualities of an animal too well 
 known to need a description: there are few, 
 even in cities, who are unacquainted with its 
 uses, its appetites, and way of living. The 
 arts of fattening, rearing, guarding, and ma- 
 naging hogs, fall more properly under the cog- 
 nizance of the farmer than the naturalist; they 
 make a branch of domestic economy, which % 
 properly treated, may be extended to a great 
 length ; but the history of nature ought al- 
 ways to end where that of art begins. It will 
 be sufficient, therefore, to observe, that the 
 wild boar was formerly a native of our coun>- 
 
282 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 try, as appears from the laws of Hoeldda,' the 
 famous Welch legislator, who permitted his 
 grand huntsman to chase that animal from the 
 middle of November to the beginning of De- 
 cember. William the Conqueror also punish- 
 ed such as were convicted of killing the wild 
 boar in his forests, with the loss of their eyes. 
 At present, the whole wild breed is extinct; 
 but no country makes greater use of the tame 
 kinds, as their flesh, which bears salt better 
 than that of any other animal, makes a prin- 
 cipal part of the provisions of the British navy. 
 
 As this animal is a native of almost every 
 country, there are some varieties found in the 
 species. That which we call the East India 
 breed, is lower, less furnished with hair, is 
 usually black, and has the belly almost touch- 
 ing the ground ; it is now common in England ; 
 it fattens more easily than the ordinary kinds, 
 and makes better bacon. 
 
 There is a remarkable variety of this ani- 
 mal about Upsal, b which is single-hoofed, 
 like the horse ; but in no other respect dif- 
 fering from the common kinds. The autho- 
 rity of Aristotle, who first made mention of 
 this kind, has been often called into question ; 
 some have asserted, that such a quadruped 
 never existed, because it happened not to 
 fall within the sphere of their own confined 
 observation ; however, at present, the animal 
 is too well known to admit of any doubt con- 
 cerning it. The hog common in Guinea dif- 
 fers also in some things from our own ; though 
 
 sh a ped exactly as ours, it is of a reddish colour, 
 wiih long ears, which end in a sharp point, 
 and a tail which hangs down to the pastern; 
 the whole body is covered with short red 
 shining hair, without any bristles, but pretty 
 long near the tail. Their flesh is said to be 
 excellent, and they are very tame. 
 
 All these, from their near resemblance to 
 the hog, may be considered as of the same 
 species; the East Indian hog, we well know, 
 breeds with the common kind; whether the 
 same obtains between it, and those of Upsal 
 and Guinea, we cannot directly affirm; but 
 where the external similitude is so strong, we 
 may be induced to believe that the appetites 
 and habits are the same. It is true, we are 
 told, that the Guinea breed will not mix with 
 ours, but keep separate, and herd only toge- 
 ther : however, this is no proof of their diver- 
 sity, since every animal will prefer its own 
 likeness in its mate ; arid they will then only 
 mix with another sort, when deprived of the 
 society of their own. These, therefore, we 
 may consider as all of the hog kind ; but 
 there are other quadrupeds, that, in general, 
 resemble this species, which, nevertheless, 
 are very distinct from them. Travellers, in- 
 deed, from their general form, or from their 
 habits and way of living, have been content 
 to call these creatures hogs also ; but upon 
 a closer inspection, their differences are found 
 to be such as entirely to separate the kinds, 
 and make each a distinct animal by itself. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI1. 
 
 THE PECCARY, OR TAJACU. 
 
 THAT animal which of all others most re- 
 sembles the hog, and yet is of a formation very 
 distinct from it, is called the peccary, or tajacu. 
 It is a native of America, and found there, in 
 such numbers, that they are seen in herds of 
 several hundreds together, grazing among the 
 woods, and inoffensive, except when offended. 
 
 The peccary, at first view, resembles a 
 small hog ; the form of its body, the shape of 
 
 British Zoology, vol. i. p. 44. 
 
 its head, the length of its snout, and the form 
 of its legs, are entirely alike : however, when 
 we come to examine it nearer, the differences 
 begin to appear. The body is not so bulky; 
 its legs not so long; its bristles much thicker 
 and stronger than those of the hog, resem- 
 bling rather the quills of a porcupine, than 
 hair ; instead of a tail, it has only a little fleshy 
 protuberance, which does not even cover its 
 
 b Amsenit. Acad. vol. v. p. 465. 
 
THE HOG KIND. 
 
 283 
 
 posteriors ; but that which is still more extra- 
 ordinary, and in which it differs from all other 
 quadrupeds whatsoever,is,that it has got upon 
 its back a lump, resembling the navel in other 
 animals, which is found to separate a liquor 
 of a very strong smell. The peccary is the 
 only creature that has those kinds of glands 
 which discharge the musky substance on that 
 part of its body. Some have them under the 
 belly, and otheVs under the tail ; but this crea- 
 ture, by a conformation peculiar to itself, has 
 them on its back. This lump, or navel, is 
 situated on that part of the back which is over 
 the hinder legs ; it is, in general, so covered 
 with long bristles, that it cannot be seen, ex- 
 cept they be drawn aside. A small space 
 then appears, that is almost bare, and only be- 
 set with a few short fine hairs. In the mid- 
 dle it rises like a lump ; and in this there is 
 an orifice, into which one may thrust a com- 
 mon goose quill. This hole or bag is not 
 above an inch in depth ; and round it, under 
 the skin, are situated a number of small glands, 
 which distil a whitish liquor, in colour and 
 substance resembling that obtained from the 
 civet animal. Perhaps it was this analogy, 
 that led Dr. Tyson to say, that it smelt agree- 
 ably also, like that perfume. But this Mr. Buf- 
 fon absolutely denies; affirming, that the smell 
 is at every time, and in every proportion,strong 
 and offensive, and to this I can add my own 
 testimony, if that able naturalist should want 
 a voucher. 
 
 But, to be more particular in the descrip- 
 tion of the other parts of this quadruped ; the 
 colour of the body is grizly, and beset with 
 bristles, thicker and stronger than those of a 
 common hog; though not near so thick as those 
 of a porcupine, they resemble, in this respect, 
 that they are variegated with black and white 
 rings. The belly is almost bare; and the short 
 bristles on the sides, gradually increase in 
 length, as they approach the ridge of the back, 
 where some are five inches long. On the head 
 also between the ears, there is a large tuft of 
 bristles that are chiefly black. The ears are 
 about two inches and a half long, and stand 
 upright; and the eyes resemble those of a com- 
 mon hog. only they are smaller. From the 
 lower corner of the eye to the snout, is usu- 
 ally six^nches ; and the snout itself is like that 
 'of a hog's, though it is but small. One side 
 
 NO. 25 & 26. 
 
 of the lower lip is generally smooth, by the 
 rubbing of the tusk of the upper jaw. The 
 feet and hoofs are perfectly like those of a 
 common hog; but, as was already observed, 
 it has no tail. There are some anatomical 
 differences in its internal structure from that 
 of the common hog. Dr. Tyson was led to 
 suppose, that it had three stomachs ; where- 
 as the hog has but one : however, in this he 
 was deceived, as Mr. Daubenton has plainly 
 shown, that the stomach is only divided by 
 two closings, which gives it the appearance 
 as if divided into three ; and there is no con- 
 formation that prevents the food in any part 
 of it, from going or returning to any other. 
 
 The peccary may be tamed like the hog, 
 and has pretty nearly the same habits and na- 
 tural inclinations. It feeds upon the same 
 aliments ; its flesh, though drier and leaner 
 than that of the hog, is pretty good eating ; 
 it is improved by castration ; and, when kill- 
 ed, not only the parts of generation must be 
 taken instantly away, but also the navel on 
 the back, with all the glands that contribute 
 to its supply. If this operation be deferred 
 for only half an hour, tne flesh becomes ut- 
 terly unfit to be eaten. 
 
 The peccary is extremely numerous in all 
 the parts of Southern America. They go in 
 herds of two or three hundred together; and 
 unite, like hogs, in each other's defence. 
 They are particularly fierce when their young 
 are attempted to be taken from them. They 
 surround the plunderer, attack him without 
 fear, and frequently make his life pay the for- 
 feit of his rashness. When any of the natives 
 are pursued by a herd in this manner, they 
 frequently climb a tree to avoid them t while 
 the peccaries gather round the root, threat- 
 en with their tusks, and their rough bristles 
 standing erect, as in the hog kind, they as- 
 sume a very terrible appearance. In this man- 
 ner they remain at the foot of the tree for 
 hours together; while the hurrter is obliged 
 to wait patiently, and not without apprehen- 
 sions, until they think fit to retire. 
 
 The peccary is rather fond of the moun- 
 tainous parts of the country, than the low- 
 lands; itseemsto delight neither in the marsh- 
 es nor the mud, like our hogs; it keeps among 
 the woods, where it subsists upon wild fruits, 
 roots, and vegetables ; it is also an unceasing 
 
 224 
 
284 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 enemy to the lizard, the toad, and all the ser- 
 pent kinds, with which these uncultivated fo- 
 rests abound. As soon as it perceives a ser- 
 pent, or a viper, it at once seizes it with its 
 fore hoofs and teeth, skins it in an instant, 
 and devours the flesh. This is often seen, and 
 may, therefore, be readily credited : but as to 
 its applying to a proper vegetable immediate- 
 ly after, as an antidote to the poison of the ani- 
 mal it had devoured, this part of the relation 
 we may very well suspect. The flesh, nei- 
 ther of the toad nor viper, as every one knows, 
 are poisonous; and, therefore, there is no 
 need of a remedy against their venom. Ray 
 gives no credit to either part of the actount : 
 however, we can have no reason to disbelieve 
 that it feeds upon toads and serpents ; it is 
 only the in iking use of a vegetable antidote 
 that appears improbable, and which perhaps 
 had its rise in the ignorance and credulity of 
 the natives. 
 
 The peccary, like the hog, is very prolific; 
 the young ones follow the dam, and do not 
 separate till they have come to perfection. 
 If taken at first, they are very easily tamed, 
 and soon lose all their natural ferocity ; how- 
 ever, they never show any remarkable signs 
 of docility, but continue stupid and rude, 
 without attachment, or even seeming to know 
 the hand that feeds them. They only continue 
 to do no mischief; and they may be permitted 
 to run tame without apprehending any dan- 
 
 gerous consequences. They seldom stray 
 far from home ; they return of themselves to 
 the sty ; and do not quarrel among each other, 
 except when they happen to be fed in com- 
 mon. At such times, they have an angry kind 
 of growl, much stronger and harsher than that 
 of a hog ; but they are seldom heard to scream 
 as the former; only now and then, when fright- 
 ed, or irritated, they have an abrupt angrj 
 manner of blowing like the boar. 
 
 The peccary, though like the hog in so 
 many various respects, is, nevertheless, a very 
 distinct race, and will not mrx, nor produce 
 an intermediate breed. The European hog 
 has been transplanted into America, arid sui- 
 fered to run wild among the woods ; it is often 
 seen to herd among a drove of peccaries, but 
 never to breed from them. They may, there- 
 fore, be considered as two distinct creatures; 
 the hog is the larger and the more useful ani- 
 mal ; the peccary, more feeble and local ; the 
 hog subsists in most parts of the world, and in 
 almost every climate ; the peccary is a native 
 of the warmer regions, and cannot subsist in 
 ours, without shelter and assistance. It is 
 more than probable, however, that we could 
 readily propagate the breed of thisquadruped; 
 and that, in two or three generations, it might 
 be familiarized to our climate: but as it is 
 inferior to the hog in every respect, so it 
 would be needless to admit a new domestic, 
 whose services are better supplied in the old. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVHI. 
 
 THE CAPIBARA, OR CABIAI. 
 
 THERE are some quadrupeds so entirely 
 different from any that we are acquainted with, 
 that it is hard to find a well known animal to 
 which to resemble them. In this case, we 
 must be content to place them near such as 
 they most approach in form and habits, so 
 that the reader may at once have some idea 
 of the creature's shape or disposition, although, 
 perhaps, an inadequate and a very confused 
 one. 
 
 Upon that confused idea, however, it will 
 
 be our business to work ; to bring it, by de- 
 grees, to greater precision ; to mark out the 
 differences of form, and thus give the clear- 
 est notions that words can easily convey. 
 The known animal is a kind of rude sketch of 
 the figure we want to exhibit ; from which, 
 by degrees, we fashion out the shape of the 
 creature we desire should be known; as a 
 statuary seldom begins his work, till the rude 
 outline of the figure is given by some other 
 hand. In this manner, I have placed the ca . 
 
THE HOG KIND. 
 
 285 
 
 pibara among the hog kind, merely because 
 it is more like a hog than any other animal 
 commonly known, arid yet, more closely ex- 
 amined, it will be found to differ in some of 
 the most obvious particulars. 
 
 The capibara resembles a hog of about two 
 years old, in the shape of its body, and the 
 coarseness and colour of its hair. Like the 
 hog, it has a thick short neck, and a rounded 
 bristly back ; like the hog, it is fond of the 
 water and marshy places, brings forth many 
 at a time, and, like it, feeds upon animal and 
 vegetable food. But, when examined more 
 nearly, the differences are many and obvious. 
 The head is longer, the eyes are larger, and 
 the snout, instead of being rounded, as in the 
 hog, is split like that of a rabbit or a hare, 
 and furnished with thick strong whiskers; the 
 mouth is not so wide, the number and the 
 form of the teeth are different, for it is without 
 tusks: like the peccary it wants a tail; and, 
 unlike to all others of this kind, instead of a 
 cloven hoof, it is in a manner web-footed, and 
 thus entirely fitted for swimming, and living 
 in the water. The hoofs before are divided 
 into four parts; and those behind into three; 
 between the divisions, there is a prolongation 
 of the skin, so that the foot, when spread in 
 swimming, can beat a greater surface of water. 
 
 As its feet are thus made for the water, so 
 it is seen to delight entirely in that element ; 
 
 and some naturalists have called it the water- 
 hag for that reason. It is a native of South 
 America, and is chiefly seen frequenting the 
 borders of lakes and rivers, like the otter. 
 It seizes the fish upon which it preys, with 
 its hoofs and teeth, and carries them to the 
 edge of the lake, to devour them at its ease. 
 It lives also upon fruits, corn, and sugar-canes. 
 As its feet are long and broad, it is often seen 
 sitting up like a dog that is taught to beg. 
 Its cry more nearly resembles the braying of 
 an ass, than the grunting of a hog. It seldom 
 goes out, except at night, and that always in 
 company. It never ventures far from thesides 
 of the river or the lake in which it preys ; for 
 as it runs ill, because of the length of its feet, 
 and the shortness of its legs, so its only place 
 of safety is the water, into which it immediate- 
 ly plunges when pursued, and keeps so long 
 at the bottom, that the hunter can have no 
 hopes of taking it there. The Capibara, even 
 in a state of wildness, is of a gentle nature, 
 and, when taken young, is easily tamed. It 
 comes and goes at command, and even shows 
 an attachment to its keeper. Its flesh is said 
 to be fat and tender, but, from the nature of 
 its food, it has a fishy taste, like that of all 
 those which are bred in the water. Its head, 
 however, is said to be excellent; and in this 
 it resembles the beaver, whose fore-parts taste 
 like flesh, and the hinder like the fish it feeds on. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 THE BABYROUESSA, OR INDIAN HOG. 
 
 THE Babyrouessa is still more remote 
 from the hog kind than the capibara; and yet 
 most travellers who have described this ani- 
 mal, do not scruple to call it the hog of Bor- 
 neo, which is an island in the East Indies, 
 where it is principally to be found. Proba- 
 bly this animal's figure upon the whole most 
 resembles that of the hog kind, and may have 
 induced them to rank it among the number : 
 however, when they come to its description, 
 they represent it as having neither the hair, 
 the bristles, the head, the stature, nor the 
 
 tail of a hog. Its legs, we are told, are lon- 
 ger, its snout shorter, its body more slender, 
 and somewhat resembling that of a stag ; its 
 hair is finer, of a gray colour, rather resem- 
 bling wool than bristles, and its tail also tuft- 
 ed with the same. From these varieties, there- 
 fore, it can scarcely be called a hog; and, 
 yet, in this class we must be content to rank 
 it, until its form and nature come to be better 
 known. What we at present principally dis- 
 tinguish it by, are four enormous tusks, that 
 grow out of each jaw ; the two largest from 
 2Z 
 
286 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 the upper, and the two smallest from the un- 
 der. The jaw-bones of this extraordinary ani- 
 mal are found to be very thick and strong ; 
 from whence these monstrous tusks are seen 
 to proceed, that distinguish it from all other 
 quadrupeds whatsoever. The two that go 
 from the lower jaw are not above a foot long, 
 but those of the upper are above half a yard : 
 as in the boar, they bend circularly, and the 
 two lower stand in the jaw as they are seen 
 to do in that animal ; but the two upper rise 
 from the upper jaw, rather li ke horns than teeth; 
 and, bending upwards and backwards, some- 
 times have their points directed to the ani- 
 mal's eyes, and are often fatal by growing into 
 them. Were it not that the baby rouessa has 
 two such large teeth underneath, we might 
 easily suppose the two upper to be horns; and, 
 in fact, their sockets are directed upwards ; 
 for which reason, Dr. Grew was of that opi- 
 nion. But as the teeth of both jaws are of 
 fhe same consistence, and as they both grow 
 out of sockets in the same manner, the ana- 
 logy between both is too strong not to sup- 
 pose them of the same nature. The upper 
 teeth, when they leave the socket, immediate- 
 ly pierce the upper lips of the animal, and 
 grow as if they immediately went from its 
 cheek. The tusks in both jaws are of a very 
 fine ivory, smoother and whiter than that of 
 the elephant, but not so hard or serviceable. 
 These enormous tusks give this animal a 
 very formidable appearance; and yet it is 
 thought to be much less dangerous than the 
 wild boar." Like animals of the hog kind, 
 they go together in a body, and are often seen 
 in company with the wild boar, with which, 
 however, they are never known to engender. 
 They have a very strong scent, which disco- 
 vers them to the hounds ; and, when pursued, 
 they growl dreadfully, often turning back upon 
 the dogs, and wounding them with the tusks 
 of the lower jaw, for those of the upper are 
 rather an obstruction than a defence. They 
 run much swifter than the boar, and have a 
 more exquisite scent, winding the men and the 
 dogs at a great distance. When hunted close- 
 ly, they generally plunge themselves into the 
 sea, where they swim with great swiftness and 
 facility, diving, and rising again at pleasure ; 
 
 Buffon, vol. xxv. p. 179. 
 
 and in this manner they most frequently es- 
 cape their pursuers. Although tierce and 
 terrible when offended, yet they are peaceable 
 and harmless when unmolested. They are 
 easily tamed, and their flesh is good to be 
 eaten ; but it is said to putrefy in a very short 
 time. They have a way of reposing them- 
 selves different from most other animals of the 
 larger kind ; which is by hitching one of their 
 upper tusks on the branch of a tree, and then 
 suffering their whole body to swing down at 
 ease. Thus suspended from a tooth, they 
 continue the whole night quite secure, and 
 out of the reach of such animals as hunt them 
 for prey. 
 
 The babyrouessa, though by its teeth and 
 tusks it seems fitted for a state of hostility, 
 and probably is carnivorous, yet, neverthe- 
 less, seems chiefly to live upon vegetables and 
 the leaves of trees. It seldom seeks to break 
 into gardens, like the boar, in order to pillage 
 the more succulent productions of human in- 
 dustry, but lives remote from mankind, con- 
 tent with coarser fare and security. It has 
 been said, that it was only to be found in the 
 island of Borneo, but this is a mistake, as it 
 is well known in many other parts both of Asia 
 and Africa, as at the Celebes, Estrila, Sene- 
 gal, and Madagascar. 1 " 
 
 Such are the animals of the hog kind, which 
 are not distinctly known ; and even all these, 
 as we see, have been but imperfectly examined 
 or described. There are some others of 
 which we have still more imperfect notices ; 
 such as the waree, a hog of the Isthmus of 
 Darien, described by Wafer, with large tusks, 
 small ears, and bristles like a coarse fur over 
 all the body. This, however, may be the Eu- 
 ropean hog, which has run wild in that part 
 of the new world, as no other traveller has 
 taken notice of the same. The Canary boar 
 seems different from other animals of this kind, 
 by the largeness of its tusks; and, as is judg- 
 ed from the skeleton, by the aperture of its 
 nostrils, and the number of its grinders. I 
 cannot conclude this account of those animals 
 that are thus furnished with enormous tusks, 
 without observing that there is a strong con- 
 sent between these and the parts of genera- 
 tion. When castrated, it is well known that 
 
 b Anderson's Natural History of Greenland. 
 
THE HOG KIND. 
 
 287 
 
 the tusks grow much smaller, and are scarce 
 seen to appear without the lips ; but what is 
 still more remarkable, is, that in a boar, if the 
 tusks by any accident or design be broke away, 
 the animal abates of its fierceness and vencry, 
 
 and it produces nearly the same effect upon its 
 constitution, as if castration had actually taken 
 place.' 
 
 Lisle's Husbandry, vol. ii. p. 329- 
 
288 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 I 
 
 CARNIVOROUS AlfflMAXS. 
 
 CHAPTER L. 
 
 ANIMALS OF THE CAT KIND. 
 
 WE have hitherto been describing a class of 
 peaceful and harmless animals, that serve as 
 the instruments of man's happiness, or, at least, 
 that does not openly oppose him. We come 
 now to a bloody and unrelenting tribe, that 
 disdain to own his power, and carry on unceas- 
 ing hostilities against him. All the class of the 
 cat kind are chiefly distinguished by their sharp 
 and formidable claws, which they can hide and 
 extend at pleasure. They lead a solitary, ra- 
 venous life, neither uniting for their mutual 
 defence, like vegetable feeders, nor for their 
 mutual support, like those of the dog kind. 
 The whole of this cruel and ferocious tribe seek 
 their food alone; and, except at certain sea- 
 sons, are even enemies to each other. The 
 dog, the wolf, and the bear, are sometimes 
 known to live upon vegetables or farinaceous 
 food ; but all of the cat kind, such as the lion, 
 the tiger, the leopard, and the ounce, devour 
 nothing but flesh, and starve upon any other 
 provision. 
 
 They are, in general, fierce, rapacious, sub- 
 tle, and cruel, unfit for society among each 
 other, and incapable of adding to human hap- 
 piness. However, it is probable that even the 
 fiercest could be rendered domestic, if man 
 thought the conquest worth tne trouble. Lions 
 have been yoked to the chariots of conquerors, 
 and tigers have been taught to tend those herds 
 which they are known at present to destroy ; 
 but these services are not sufficient to recom- 
 pense for the trouble of their keeping ; so that 
 ceasing to be useful, they continue to be nox- 
 ious, and become rebellious subjects because 
 not taken under equal protection with the rest 
 of the brute creation. 
 
 Other tribes of animals are classed with dif- 
 ficulty ; having often but few points of resem- 
 blance ; and, though alike in form, have dif- 
 ferent dispositions, and different appetites. But 
 
 all those of the cat kind, although differing in 
 size, or in colour, are yet nearly allied to each 
 other ; being equally fierce, rapacious, and 
 artful ; and he that has seen one has seen all. 
 In other creatures there are many changes 
 wrought by human assiduity ; the dog, the hog, 
 or the sheep, are altered in their natures and 
 forms, just as the necessities or the caprice of 
 mankind have found fitting ; but all of this kind 
 are inflexible in their forms, and wear the 
 print of their natural wildness strong upon 
 them. The dogs or cows vary in different 
 countries, but lions or tigers are still found the 
 same ; the very colour is nearly alike in all ; 
 and the slightest alterations are sufficient to 
 make a difference in the kinds, and to give the 
 animal a different denomination. 
 
 The cat kind are not less remarkable for the 
 sharpness and strength of their claws, which 
 thrust forth from their sheath when they seize 
 their prey, than for the shortness of their snout, 
 the roundness of their head, and the large whis- 
 kers which grow on the upper lip. Their 
 teeth also, which amount to the numberof thir- 
 ty, are very formidable, but rather calculated 
 for tearing their prey than for chewing if for 
 this reason they feed but slowly : and while 
 they eat, generally continue growling, to deter 
 others from taking a share. In the dog kind, 
 the chief power lies in the under jaw, which is 
 long, and furnished with muscles of amazing 
 strength ; but in these the greatest force lies in 
 the claws, which are extended w ith great ease, 
 and their gripe is so tenacious that nothing can 
 open it. The hinder parts in all these animals 
 are much weaker than those before ; and they 
 seem less made for strength than agility. Nor 
 are they endued with the swiftness of most 
 other animals ; but generally owe their subsis- 
 tence rather to catching their prey by surprise 
 than by hunting it fairly down. They all seize 
 
THE CAT KIND. 
 
 289 
 
 it with a bound, at the same time expressing 
 th-ir fierce pleasure with a roar ; and the first 
 grasp generally disables the captive from all 
 further resist mce. With all these qualifica- 
 tions for slaughter, they nevertheless seem 
 timid and cowardly, arid seldom make an at- 
 tack, like those of the dog kind, at a disadvan- 
 tage : on the contrary, they fly when the force 
 against them is superior, or even equal to their 
 own ; and the lion himself will not venture to 
 make a second attempt, where he has been 
 once repulsed with success. For this reason, 
 in countries that are tolerably inhabited, the 
 lion is so co vardly, that he is often scared away 
 by the cries of women and children. 
 
 The cat, which is the smallest animal of this 
 kind, is the only one that has been taken under 
 human protection, and may be considered as 
 a faithless friend, brought to oppose a still more 
 insidious enemy. a It is, in fact, the only ani- 
 mal of this tribe whose services can more than 
 recompense the trouble of their education, and 
 whose strength is not sufficient to make its an- 
 ger formidable. The lion, or the tiger, may 
 easily be tamed, and rendered subservient to 
 human command ; but even in their humblest, 
 and most familiar moments, they are still dan- 
 gerous ; since their strength is such that the 
 smallest fit of anger or caprice may have dread- 
 ful consequences. But the cat, though easily 
 offended, and often capricious in her resent- 
 ments, is not endowed with powers sufficient 
 to do any great mischief. Of all animals, 
 when young, there is none more prettily play- 
 ful than the kitten ; but it seems to lose this 
 disposition as it grows old, and the innate 
 treachery of its kind is then seen to prevail. 
 From being naturally ravenous, education 
 teaches it to disguise its appetites, and to watch 
 the favourable moment of plunder ; supple, in- 
 sinuating, and artful, it has learned the arts of 
 concealing its intentions till it can put them 
 into execution ; when the opportunity offers, 
 it at once seizes upon whatever it finds, flies 
 off with it,, and continues at a distance till it 
 supposes its offence forgotten. The cat has 
 only the appearance of , attachment ; and it 
 may easily be perceived, by its timid approach- 
 es, :md side-long looks, that it either dreads its 
 master, or distrusts his kindness ; differed 
 
 a This description is nearly translated from Mr. Buffon: 
 wh:it I have added is marked with inverted commas. 
 
 from the dog, whose caresses are sincere, the 
 cat is assiduous ruther for its own pleasure, 
 than to please ; and often gains confidence, on- 
 ly to abuse it. The form of its body, and its 
 temperament, correspond with its disposition ; 
 active, cleanly, delicate, and voluptuous, it 
 loves its ease, and seeks the softest cushions to 
 lie on. " Many of its habits, however, are ra- 
 ther the consequences of its formation, than 
 the result of any perverseness in its disposition ; 
 it is timid and mistrustful, because its body is 
 weak, and its skin tender ; a blow hurts it in- 
 finitely more than it does a dog, whose hide is 
 thick, and body muscular; the long fur in 
 which the cat is clothed, entirely disguises its 
 shape, which, if seen naked, is long, feeble, 
 and slender ; it is not to be wondered, there- 
 fore, that it appears much more fearful of chas- 
 tisement than the dog, and often flies, even 
 when no correction is intended. Being also 
 the native of the warmer climates, as will be 
 shown hereafter, it chooses the softest bed to 
 lie on, which is always the warmest." 
 
 The cat goes with young fifty-six days, and 
 seldom brings forth above five or six at a time. 
 The female usually hides the place of her re- 
 treat from the male, who is often found to de- 
 vour her kittens. She feeds them for some 
 weeks with her milk, and whatever small ani- 
 mal she can take by surprise, accustoming 
 them betimes to rapine. Before they are a 
 year old, they are fit to engender ; the female 
 seeks the male with cries ; nor is their copula- 
 tion performed without great pain, from the 
 narrowness of the passage in the female. They 
 live to about the age of ten years ; and, during 
 that period, they are extremely vivacious, suf- 
 fering to be worried a longtime before they die. 
 
 The young kittens are very playful and 
 amusing; but their sport soon turns into ma- 
 lice, and they, from the beginning, show a dis- 
 position to cruelty ; they often look wistfully 
 towards the cage, sit centinels at the mouth of 
 a mouse-hole, and, ina short time, become more 
 expert hunters, than if they had received the 
 instruction of art. Indeed, their disposition is 
 so incapable of constraint, that all instruction 
 would be but thrown away. It is true, that 
 we are told of the Greek monks of the isle of 
 Cyprus, teaching cats to hunt the serpents 
 with which the island is infested ; but this may 
 be natural to the animal itself, and they might 
 have fallen upon such a pursuit without any 
 
290 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 instruction. Whatever animal is much weak- 
 er than themselves, is to them an indiscrimi- 
 nate object of destruction. Birds, young rab- 
 bits, hares, rats, and mice, bats, moles, toads, 
 and frogs, are all equally pursued ; though 
 not, perhaps, equally acceptable. The mouse 
 seems to be their favourite game ; and, al- 
 though the cat has the sense of smelling in 
 but a mean degree, it, nevertheless, knows 
 those holes in which its prey resides. I have 
 seen one of them patiently watch a whole day 
 until the mouse appeared, and continue quite 
 motionless until it came within reach, and then 
 seized it with a jump. Of all the marks by 
 which the cat discovers its natural malignity, 
 that of playing and sporting with its little cap- 
 tive, before killing it outright, is the most 
 flagrant. 
 
 The fixed inclination which they discover 
 for this peculiar manner of pursuit, arises from 
 the conformation of their eyes. The pupil 
 in man, and in most other animals, is capable 
 but of a small degree of contraction and dila- 
 tation; it enlarges a little in the dark, and con- 
 tracts when the light pours in upon it in too 
 great quantities. In the eyes of cats, how- 
 ever, this contraction and dilatation of the 
 pupil, is so considerable, that the pupil, which 
 by day-light appears narrow and small like 
 the black of one's nail, by night expands over 
 the whole surface of the eye- ball, and, as every 
 one must have seen, their eyes seem on iire. 
 By this peculiar conformation, their eyes see 
 better in darkness than light; and the animal 
 is thus better adapted for spying out and sur- 
 prising its prey. 
 
 Although the cat is an inhabitant of our 
 houses, yet it cannot properly be called a de- 
 pendent; although perfectly tame, yet it ac- 
 knowledges no obedience ; on the contrary, 
 it does only just what it thinks fit, and no art 
 can control any of its inclinations. In gene- 
 ral, it is but half tamed ; and has its attach- 
 ments rather to the place in which it resides, 
 than to the inhabitant. If the inhabitant quits 
 the house, the cat still remains ; and if car- 
 ried elsewhere, seems for a while bewildered 
 with its new situation. It must take time to 
 become acquainted with the holes and retreats 
 in which its prey resides, with all the little 
 labyrinths through which they often make 
 good an escape. 
 
 The cat is particularly fearful of water, of 
 cold, and of ill smells. It loves to keep in the 
 sun, to get near the fire, and to rub itself 
 against those who carry perfumes. It is ex- 
 cessively fond of some plants,suchas valerian, 
 marum, and cat-mint : against these it rubs, 
 smells them at a distance, and, at last, if they 
 be planted in a garden, wears them out. 
 
 This animal eats slowly, and with difficul- 
 ty, as its teeth are rather made for tearing, 
 than chewing its aliments. For this reason, 
 it loves the most tender food, particularly fish, 
 which it eats as well boiled as raw. Its sleep- 
 ing is very light ; and it often seems to sleep, 
 the better to deceive its prey. When the 
 cat walks, it treads very softly, and without 
 the least noise ; and as to the necessities of 
 nature, it is cleanly to the last degree. Its 
 fur also is usually sleek and glossy; and, for 
 this reason, the hair is easily electrified, send- 
 ing forth shining sparks, if rubbed in the dark. 
 
 " The wild cat breeds with the tame;" and, 
 therefore, the latter may be considered only 
 as a variety of the former : however, they dif- 
 fer in some particulars ; the cat, in its savage 
 state, is somewhat larger than the house-cat ; 
 and its fur being longer, gives it a greater ap- 
 pearance than it really has; its head is bigger, 
 and face flatter; the teeth and claws much 
 more formidable ; its muscles very strong, as 
 being formed for rapine ; the tail is of a mo- 
 derate length, but very thick and flat, mark- 
 ed with alternate bars of black and white, 
 the end always black; the hips, and hind part 
 of the lower joints of the leg, are always black; 
 the fur is very soft and fine : the general co- 
 lour of these animals, in England, is a yellow- 
 ish white, mixed with a deep gray. These 
 colours, though they appear at first sight con- 
 fusedly blended together, yet on a close in- 
 spection, will be found to be disposed like the 
 streaks on the skin of the tiger, pointing from 
 the back downwards, rising from a black list, 
 that runs from the head, along the middle of 
 the back, to the tail. This animal is found 
 in our larger woods ,- and is the most destruc- 
 tive of the carnivorous kinds in this kingdom. 
 It inhabits the most mountainous and woody 
 parts of these islands, living mostly in trees, 
 and feeding only by night. It often happens, 
 
 British Zoology. 
 
THE CAT KIND. 
 
 29) 
 
 that the females of the tame kind go into the 
 woods to seek mates among the wild ones. 
 It should seem, that these, however, are not 
 original inhabitants of this kingdom, but were 
 introduced first in a domestic state, and af- 
 terwards became wild in the woods, by ill 
 usage or neglect. Certain it is, the cat was 
 an animal much higher in esteem among our 
 ancestors than it is at present. By the laws 
 of Howel, the price of a kitten, before it could 
 see, was to be a penny ; till it caught a mouse, 
 two-pence ; and when it commenced mouser, 
 four-pence : it was required, besides, that it 
 should be perfect in its senses of hearing and 
 seeing, be a good mouser, have the claws 
 whole, and be a good nurse. If it failed in 
 any of these qualities, the seller was to for- 
 feit to the buyer the third part of its value. 
 If any one stole or killed the cat that guard- 
 ed the prince's granary, he was to forfeit a 
 milch ewe, its fleece and lamb, or as much 
 wheat as when poured on the cat, suspended 
 by the tail, (the head touching the floor,) would 
 form a heap high enough to cover the tip of 
 the former. From hence we discover, besides 
 a picture of the simplicity of the times, a strong 
 argument that cats were not naturally bred 
 in our forests. An animal that could have 
 been so easily taken, could never have been 
 rated so highly ; and the precautions laid 
 down to improve the breed, would have been 
 superfluous, in a creature that multiplies to 
 such an amazing degree. 
 
 "In our climate, we know but of one varie- 
 ty of the wild cat : and, from the accounts of 
 travellers, we learn, that there are but very 
 few differences in this quadruped in all parts 
 of the world. The greatest difference,indeed, 
 between the wild and the tame cat, is rather 
 to be found internally than in their outward 
 form. Of all other quadrupeds, the wild cat 
 is, perhaps, that whose intestines are pro- 
 portionably the smallest and the shortest. 
 The intestines of the sheep, for instance, un- 
 ravelled out, and measured according to their 
 length, will be found to be above thirty times 
 the length of its body; whereas, the wild cat's 
 intestines being measured out, will not be 
 found above three times the length of its body. 
 This is a surprising difference; but we may 
 account for it, from the nature of the food in 
 the two animals ; the one living upon vegeta- 
 
 No. 25 & 26. 
 
 bles, which require a longer, and a more te- 
 dious preparation, before they can become a 
 part of its body ; the other, living upon flesh, 
 which requires very little alteration, in order 
 to be assimilated into the substance of the 
 creature that feeds upon it. The one, there- 
 fore, wanted a long canal for properly digest- 
 ing and straining its food ; the other, but a 
 short one, as the food is already prepared to 
 pass the usual secretions : however, a diffi- 
 culty still remains behind ; the intestines of 
 the wild cat are, by one-third, shorter than 
 those of the tame. How can we account for 
 this? If we say that the domestic cat, living 
 upon more nourishing and more plentiful pro- 
 vision, has its intestines enlarged to the quan- 
 tity with which it is supplied, we shall find 
 this observation contradicted in the wild boar 
 and the wolf, whose intestines are as long as 
 those of the hog or the dog, though they lead 
 a savage life, and, like the wild cat, are fed 
 by precarious subsistence. The shortness, 
 therefore, of the wild cat's intestines, is still 
 unaccounted for ; and most naturalists con- 
 sider the difficulty as inextricable. We must 
 leave it, therefore, as one of those difficulties 
 which future observation or accident are most 
 likely to discover. 
 
 This animal is one of those few which are 
 common to the new continent, as well as the 
 old. When Christopher Columbus first dis- 
 covered that country, a hunter brought him 
 one, which he had discovered in the woods, 
 which was of the ordinary size, the tail very 
 long and thick. They were common also in 
 Peru, although they were not rendered do- 
 mestic. They are well known also in several 
 parts of Africa, and many parts of Asia. In 
 some of these countries they are of a peculiar 
 colour, and inclining to blue. In Persia, Pie- 
 tro dello Valle informs us, that there is a kind 
 of cat, particularly in the province of Chora- 
 zan, of the figure and form of the ordinary one, 
 but infinitely more beautiful in the lustre and 
 colour of its skin. It is of a gray blue, with- 
 out mixture, and is soft and shining as silk. 
 The tail is very long, and covered with hair 
 six inches long, which the animal throws upon 
 its back, like the squirrel. These cats are well 
 known in France; and have been brought over 
 into England, under the name of the blue cat, 
 which, however, is not their colour. 
 3A 
 
292 
 
 4NIMALS OF 
 
 Another variety of this animal is called by us 
 the lion cat ; or, as others more properly term 
 it, the cut of Angora. These are larger than 
 the common cat, and even than the wild one. 
 Their hair is much longer, and hangs about 
 their head and neck, giving this creature the 
 appearance of a lion. Some of these are white, 
 and others of a dun colour. These come from 
 Syria and Persia, two countries which are 
 noted for giving a long soft hair to tin- animals 
 which are bred in them. The sheep, the goats, 
 the dogs, and the rabbits of Syria, are all re- 
 markable for the fine glossy length and softness 
 of their hair ; but particularly the cat, whose 
 nature seems to be so inflexible, conforms to 
 the nature of the climate and soil, loses its 
 savage colour, which it preserves almost in 
 every other part of the world, and assumes the 
 most beautiful appearance. There are some 
 other varieties in this animal, but rather in co- 
 lour than in form ; and, in general, it may be 
 remarked, that the cat, when carried into other 
 countries, alters but very little, still preserving 
 its natural manners, habits, and conformation." 
 
 THE LION. 
 
 THE influence of climate upon mankind is 
 very small ; a he is found to subsist in all parts 
 of the earth, as well under the frozen poles, as 
 beneath the torrid zone : but in animals, the 
 climate may be considered as congenial, and 
 a kind of second nature. They almost all 
 have their particular latitudes, beyond which 
 they are unable to subsist ; either perishing 
 with a moderate cold, or dying for want of a 
 frozen air, even in a temperate climate. The 
 rein-deer is never seen to depart from the icy 
 fields of the north ; and, on the contrary, the 
 lion degenerates, when taken from beneath 
 the line. The whole earth is the native coun- 
 try of man ; but all inferior animals have each 
 their own peculiar districts. 
 
 Most terrestrial animals are found larger, 
 fiercer, and stronger, in the warm, than in the 
 cold or temperate climates. They are also 
 more courageous and enterprising ; all their 
 dispositions seeming to partake of the ardour 
 
 a This description is principally taken from Mr. Buffon : 
 .such parts as are added from others, 1 have marked with 
 inverted commas. 
 
 of their native soil. The lion, produced under 
 the burning sun of Africa, is, of all others, the 
 most terrible, the most undaunted. The wolf 
 or the dog, instead of attempting to rival him, 
 scarce deserve to attend his motions, or become 
 his providers. Such, however, of these ani- 
 mals, as are bred in a more temperate climate, 
 or towards the tops of cold and lofty moun- 
 tains, are far more gentle, or, to speak more 
 properly, far less dangerous than those bred in 
 the torrid valleys beneath. The lions of Mount 
 Atlas, the tops of which are covered in eternal 
 snows, have neither the strength nor the feroci- 
 ty of the lions of Bildulgerid or Zaara, where 
 the plains are covered with burning sands. It 
 is particularly in these frightful deserts, that 
 those enormous and terrible beasts are found, 
 that seem to be the scourge and the terror of the 
 neighbouring kingdoms. Happily, indeed, the 
 species is not very numerous ; and it seems 
 to be diminishing daily : for those who have 
 travelled through these countries, assure us, 
 that there are by no means so many there at 
 present, as were known formerly' ; and Mr. 
 Shaw observes, that the Romans carried fifty 
 times as many lions from Lybia, in one year, 
 to combat in their amphitheatres, as are to be 
 found in the whole country at this time. The 
 same remark is made with regard to Turkey, 
 to Persia, and the Indies ; where the lions are 
 found to diminish in their numbers every day. 
 Nor is it difficult to assign the cause of this 
 diminution: it is obvious that it cannot be 
 owing to the increase of the force of other 
 quadrupeds, since they are all inferior to the 
 lion, and, consequently, instead of lessening 
 the number, only tend to increase the supplies 
 on which they subsist ; it must, therefore, be 
 occasioned by the increase of mankind, who 
 is the only animal in nature capable of making 
 head against these tyrants of the forest, and 
 preventing their increase. The arms even of 
 a Hottentot or a Negro make them more than 
 a match for this powerful creature ; and tiny 
 seldom make the attack, without coming off 
 victorious. Their usual manner is to find out 
 his retreat, and with spears headed with iron, 
 ro provoke him to the combat: four men are 
 considered as sufficient for this encounter; 
 and he against whom the lion flies, receives 
 him upon his spear, while the others attack him 
 behind; the lion, finding himself wounded in 
 the rear, turns that way, and thus gives the 
 
>> , i, i O- 
 
 To r- v <' 
 
THE CAT KIND. 
 
 293 
 
 man he first attacked an opportunity to reco- 
 In this manner they attack him on all 
 
 ver. 
 
 sides ; until, at last, they entirely disable, and 
 then despatch him. This superiority in the 
 numbers, and the arts of man, that are suffi- 
 cient to conquer the lion, serve also to ener- 
 vate and discourage him; for he is brave only 
 in proportion to the success of his former en- 
 counters. In the vast deserts of Zaara, in the 
 burning sands that lie between Mauritania, 
 and Negroland, in the uninhabited countries 
 that lie to the north of CaiFraria, and, in ge 
 neral, in all the deserts of Africa, where man 
 has not fixed his habitation, the lionsare found 
 in great numbers, and preserve their natural 
 courage and force. Accustomed to measure 
 their strength with every animal they meet, 
 the huliit of conquering renders them intrepid 
 and terrible. Having never experienced the 
 dangerous arts and combinations of man, they 
 have tio apprehensions from his power. They 
 boldly face him, and seem to brave the force 
 of his arms. Wounds rather serve to provoke 
 their rage than repress their ardour. They 
 are not daunted even with the opposition of 
 numbers ; a single lion of the desert often at- 
 tacks an entire caravan; and, after an obsti- 
 nate combat, when he finds himself overpower- 
 ed, instead of flying, he continues to combat, 
 retreating, and still facing the enemy till he 
 dies. On the contrary, the lions which inha- 
 bit the peopled countries of Morocco or India, 
 having become acquainted with human power, 
 and experienced man's superiority, have lost 
 all their courage, so as to be scared away 
 with a shout ; and seldom attack any but the 
 unresisting flocks or herds, which even wo- 
 men and children are sufficient to protect. 
 
 This alteration in the lion's disposition suf- 
 ficiently shows that he might easily be tamed, 
 and admit of a certain degree of education. 
 " In fact, nothing is more common than for 
 the keepers of the wild beasts to play with 
 this animal, to pull out his tongue, ai\4 even 
 to chastise him without a cause. He seems 
 to bear it all with the utmost composure ; and 
 we very rarely have instances of his revenging 
 these unprovoked sallies of impertinent cruel- 
 ty. However, when his anger is at last ex- 
 cited, the consequences are terrible. Labat 
 tells us of a gentleman who kept a lion in his 
 chamber, and employed a servant to attend 
 
 it; who, as is usual, mixed his blows with ca- 
 resses. This ill-judged association continued 
 for some time ; till one morning the gentleman 
 was awakened by a noise in his room, which, 
 at first, he could not tell the cause of; but, 
 drawing the curtains, he 'perceived a horrid 
 spectacle; the lion growling over the man's 
 head, which he had separated from the body, 
 and tossing it round the lloor. He immediate- 
 ly, therefore, flew into the next room, called 
 to the people without, and had the animal se- 
 cured from doing further mischief." How- 
 ever, this single account is not sufficient to 
 weigh against the many instances we every 
 day see of this creature's gentleness and sub- 
 mission. He is often bred up with other do- 
 mestic animals, and is seen to play innocent- 
 ly and familiarly among them; and, if ever it 
 happens that his natural ferocity returns, it 
 is seldom exerted against his benefactors. 
 As his passions are strong, and his appetites 
 vehement, one ought not to presume that the 
 impressions of education will always prevail; 
 so that it would be dangerous in such circum- 
 stances to suffer him to remain too long with- 
 out food, or to persist in irritating and abusing 
 him : however, numberless accounts assure us 
 that his anger is noble, his courage magnani- 
 mous, and his disposition grateful. He has 
 been often seen to despise contemptible ene- 
 mies, and pardon their insults, when it was 
 in his power to punish them. He has been 
 seen to spare the lives of such as were thrown 
 to be devoured by him, to live peaceably with 
 them, to afford them a part of his subsistence, 
 and sometimes to want food himself rather 
 than deprive them of that life which his ge- 
 nerosity had spared. 
 
 It may also be said that the lion is not cruel, 
 since he is so only from necessity, and never 
 kills more than he consumes. When satiated, 
 he is perfectly gentle; while the tiger, the 
 wolf, and all the inferior kinds, such as the 
 fox, the pole-cat, and the ferret, kill without 
 remorse, are fierce without cause, and, by 
 their indiscriminate slaughter, seem rather to 
 satisfy their malignity than their hunger. 
 
 The outward form of the lion seems to sneak 
 his internal generosity. His figure is striking, 
 his look confident and bold, his gait proud, 
 and his voice terrible. His stature is not over- 
 grown, like that of the elephant, or rhinoceros : 
 3 A 
 
1 294 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 nor is his shape clumsy, like that of the hip- 
 popotamus, or the ox. It is compact, well 
 proportioned, and sizeable ; a perfect model 
 of strength joined with agility. !t is muscular 
 and bold, neither charged with fat nor un- 
 necessary flesh. It is sufficient but to see him 
 in order to be assured of his superior force. 
 His large head surrounded with a dreadful 
 mane ; all those muscles that appear under 
 the skin swelling with the slightest exertions; 
 and the great breadth of his paws, with the 
 thickness of his limbs, plainly evince that no 
 other animal in the forest is capable of oppo- 
 sing him. He has a very broad face that, as 
 some have imagined, resembles the human. 
 It is surrounded with very long hair, which 
 gives it a very majestic air. The top of the 
 head, the temples, the cheeks, the under-jaw, 
 the neck, the breast, the shoulder, the hinder 
 part of the legs, and the belly, are furnished 
 with it, while all the rest of the body is cover- 
 ed with a very short hair, of a tawny colour. 
 " The length of the hair in many parts, and 
 the shortness of it in others, serves a good 
 deal to disguise this animal's real figure. The 
 breast, for instance, appears very broad, but 
 in reality it is as narrow and contracted in 
 proportion as that of the generality of dogs 
 and horses. For the same reason, the tail 
 seems to be of an equal thickness from one 
 end to the other, on account of the inequali- 
 ty of the hair with which it is encompassed ; 
 it being shorter near the insertion where the 
 flesh and bones are large, and growing longer 
 in proportion ae its real thickness lessens to- 
 wards the point, where it ends in a tuft. The 
 hair about the neck and the breast is not 
 different from that on the rest of the body, 
 except in the length of it; nor is each hair 
 pointed as in most other animals, but of an 
 equal thickness from one end to the other. 
 The neck is very strong, but not composed 
 of one solid bone, as Aristotle has imagined; 
 on the contrary, though very short and mus- 
 cular, it has as many bones as the camel or 
 the horse ; for it is universal to all quadrupeds 
 to have seven joints in the neck ; and not one 
 of them have either more or less. However, 
 the muscles in the neck of the lion, that tie 
 the bones together, are extremely strong, and 
 have somewhat the appearance of bones ; so 
 that ancient authors, who have treated of this 
 
 animal, have mistaken the whole for a single 
 bone. The tongue is rough, and beset with 
 prickles as hard as the cat's claws; these 
 have the grain turned backwards ; so that it 
 is probable a lion, if it should attempt to lick 
 a man's hand, as we are told it sometimes does, 
 would tear off the skin. The eyes are always 
 bright and fiery ; nor even in death does this 
 terrible look forsake them. In short, the 
 structure of the paws, teeth, eyes, and tongue, 
 are the same as in a cat; and also in the in- 
 ward parts these two animals so nearly re- 
 semble each other, that the anatomist's chief 
 distinction arises merely from the size." 
 
 The lion has, as was observed before, a 
 large mane, which grows every year longer as 
 the animal grows older: the lioness is with- 
 out this ornament at every age. This mane 
 is not coarse or rough as in a horse, but com- 
 posed of the same hair with the rest of the 
 body, lengthened and shining. The mane, as 
 well as the rest of the body, is of a yellow co- 
 lour; nor is there ever any difference to be 
 found in the colour of one lion from that of 
 another. What the ancients might have said 
 concerning black lions, or white, or streaked 
 like the tiger, is not confirmed by modern ex- 
 perience ; so that these varieties have never 
 been seen, or exist no longer. 
 
 It is usually supposed that the lion is not 
 possessed of the sense of smelling in such per- 
 fection as most other animals. It is also ob- 
 served, that too strong a light greatly incom- 
 modes him. This is more than probable from 
 the formation of his eyes, which, like those of 
 the cat, seem fitted for seeing best in the dark. 
 For this reason, he seldom appears in open 
 day, but ravages chiefly by night; and not 
 only the lion, but all other animals of the cat 
 kind, are kept off by the fires which the inha- 
 bitants light to preservetheir herdsand flocks; 
 the brightness of the flame dazzles their eyes, 
 which are only fitted for seeing in the dark ; 
 and they are afraid to venture blindly into 
 those places which they know to be filled 
 with their enemies. " It is equally true of all 
 this kind, that they hunt rather by the sight 
 thanthesmell; and it sometimes happens that 
 the lion pursues either the jackall or the wild 
 dog, while they are hunting upon the scent; 
 and, when they have run the beast down, 
 he comes in and monopolizes the spoil. From 
 
THE CAT KIND. 
 
 29. 1 ) 
 
 hence, probably, may have arisen the story of 
 the lion's provider: these little industrious ani- 
 mals may often, it is true, provide a feast for 
 the lion; but they have hunted merely for 
 themselves, and he is an unwelcome intruder 
 upon the fruits of their toil." 
 
 The lion, when hungry, boldly attacks all 
 animals that come in his way ; but, as he is 
 very formidable, and as they all seek to avoid 
 him, he is often obliged to hide, in order to 
 take them by surprise. For this purpose he 
 crouches on his belly, in some thicket, or 
 among the long grass, which is found in many 
 parts of the forest; in this retreat he continues, 
 with patient expectation, until his prey comes 
 within a proper distance, and he then springs 
 after it, fifteen or twenty feet from him, and 
 often seizes it at the first bound. If he misses 
 theeffbrt,and in twoor three reiterated springs 
 cannot seize his prey, he continues motionless 
 for a time, seems to be very sensible of his 
 disappointment, and waits for a more success- 
 ful opportunity. In the deserts and forests, 
 his most usual prey are the gazelles and the 
 monkeys, with which the torrid regions abound. 
 The latter he takes when they happen to be 
 upon the ground, for he cannot climb trees 
 like the cat or the tiger. He devours a great 
 deal at a time, and generally fills himself for 
 two or three days to come. His teeth are 
 so strong that he very easily breaks the bones, 
 and swallows them with the rest of the body. 
 It is reported that he sustains hunger a very 
 long time, but thirst he cannot support in an 
 equal degree,his temperament being extreme- 
 ly hot ; some have even asserted that he is in 
 a continual fever. He drinks as often as he 
 meets with water, lapping it like a cat ; which, 
 as we know, drinks but slowly. He general- 
 ly requires about fifteen pounds of raw flesh 
 in a day : he prefers that of live animals, and 
 particularly those which he has just killed. 
 He seldom devours the bodies of animals when 
 they begin to putrefy ; and he chooses rather 
 to hunt for a fresh spoil, than to return to that 
 which he had half devoured before. How- 
 ever, though he usually feeds upon fresh pro- 
 vision, his breath is very offensive, and his 
 uri-ie insupportable. 
 
 The roaring of the lion is so loud, that 
 when it is heard in the night, and re-echoed 
 by the mountains, it resembles distant thun- 
 
 der. This roar is his natural note ; for when 
 enraged he has a different growl, which is 
 short, broken, and reiterated. The roar is a 
 deep hollow growl, which he sends forth five 
 or six times a day, particularly before rains. 
 The cry of anger is much louder and more 
 formidable. This is always excited by op- 
 position ; and upon these occasions, w hen the 
 lion summons up all his terrors for the combat, 
 nothing can be more terrible. He then lashes 
 his sides with his long tail, which alone is 
 strong enough to lay a man level. He moves 
 his mane in every direction ; it seems to rise 
 and stand like bristles round his head ; the 
 skin and muscles of his face are all in agita- 
 tion ; his huge eye-brows half cover his gla- 
 ring eye-balls ; he discovers his teeth, which 
 are formed rather for destruction than chew- 
 ing his food ; he shows his tongue covered 
 with points, and extends his claws, which ap- 
 pear almost as long as a man's fingers. Pre- 
 pared in this mariner for war, there are few 
 animals that will venture to engage him; and 
 even the boldest of the human kind are daunt- 
 ed at his approach. The elephant, the rhi- 
 noceros, the tiger, and the hippopotamus, are 
 the only animals that are not afraid singly to 
 make opposition. 
 
 " Nevertheless, neither the leopard nor the 
 wild boar, if provoked, will shun the combat : 
 they do not seek the lion to attack, but will 
 not fly at his approach ; they wait his onset, 
 which he seldom makes unless compelled by 
 hunger; they then exert all their strength, 
 and are sometimes successful. We are told 
 of the combat of a lion and a wild boar, in a 
 meadow near Algiers, which continued for a 
 long time with incredible obstinacy. At last, 
 both were seen to fall by the wounds they 
 had given each other; and the ground all 
 about them was covered with their blood. 
 These instances, however, are very rare, for 
 the lion is in general the undisputed master 
 of the forest. Man is the only creature that 
 attacks him with almost certain success : with 
 the assistance of dogs and horses, which are 
 trained to the pursuit. These animals that, 
 in a state of nature, would have fled from the 
 presence of the lion, in an agony of conster- 
 nation, when conscious of the assistance of 
 man, become pursuers in their turn, and bold- 
 ly hunt their natural tyrant. The dogs are 
 
296 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 always of the large breed ; and the horses 
 themselves, as Gesner assures us, must be of 
 that sort called charosst, or lion-eyed, all others 
 of this kind flying at the sight of the lion, and 
 endeavouring to throw their riders. When 
 the lion is roused, he recedes with a slow, 
 proud motion; he never goes off directly for- 
 ward, nor measures his paces equally, but 
 takes an oblique course, going from one side 
 to the other, and bounding rather than run- 
 ning. When the hunters approach him, they 
 either shoot or throw their javelins; and in 
 this manner disable him before he is attack- 
 ed by the dogs, many of whom he would other- 
 wise destroy. He is very vivacious, and is 
 never killed at once, but continues to fight 
 desperately even after he has received his 
 mortal blow. He is also taken by pit-falls ; 
 the natives digging a deep hole in the ground, 
 and covering it slightly over with sticks and 
 earth ; which, however, give way beneath his 
 weight, and he sinks to the bottom, from 
 whence he has no means of escape. But the 
 most usual manner of taking this animal is 
 while a cub, and incapable of resistance. The 
 place near the den of the lioness is generally 
 well known by the greatness of her depreda- 
 tions on that occasion ; the natives, therefore, 
 watch the time of her absence, and, aided by 
 a swift horse, carry off her cubs; which they 
 sell to strangers, or to the great men of their 
 country." 
 
 The lion, while young and active, lives by 
 hunting in the forest at the greatest distance 
 from any human habitation; and seldom quits 
 this retreat while able to subsist by his natu- 
 ral industry; but when he becomes old and 
 unfit for the purposes of surprise, he boldly 
 comes down into places more frequented, 
 attacks the flocks and herds that take shelter 
 near the habitation of the shepherd or the 
 husbandman, and depends rather upon his 
 courage than his address for support. It is 
 remarkable, however, that when he makes one 
 of these desperate sallies, if he finds men and 
 quadrupeds in the same field, he only attacks 
 the latter, and never meddles with men, un- 
 less they provoke him to engage. It is observ- 
 ed that he prefers the flesh of camels to any 
 other food ; he is likewise said to be fond of 
 that of young elephants ; these he often at- 
 tacks before their trunk is yet grown; and, 
 
 unless the old elephant comes to their assist- 
 ance, he makes them an easy prey. 
 
 The lion is terrible upon all occasions, but 
 particularly at those seasons when he is in- 
 cited by desire, or when the female has 
 brought forth. It is then that the lioness is 
 seen followed by eight or ten males, who fight 
 most bloody battles among each other, till one 
 of them become victorious over all the rest. 
 She is said to bring forth in spring, and to 
 produce but once a year. " With respect to 
 the time of gestation, naturalists have been 
 divided, some asserting that the lioness went 
 with young six months, and others but two. 
 The time also of their growth and their age 
 have hitherto been left in obscurity ; some as- 
 serting that they acquired their full growth in 
 three years, and others that they required a 
 longer period to come to perfection; some 
 saying (and among this number is Mr. Buffon) 
 that they lived to but twenty, or twenty-two 
 years at most ; others making their lives even 
 of shorter duration. All these doubts are now 
 reduced to certainty; for we have had seve- 
 ral of these animals bred in the Tower; so 
 that the manner of their copulation, the time 
 of their gestation, the number they bring forth, 
 and the time they take to come to perfection, 
 are all pretty well known. Although the lion 
 emits his urine backwards, yet he couples in 
 the ordinary manner ; and, as was said before, 
 his internal structure in almost every respect 
 resembles that of a cat. The lioness, how- 
 ever, is upon these occasions particularly 
 tierce, and often wounds the lion in a terri- 
 ble manner. She goes with young, as I am 
 assured by her keeper, no more than five 
 months; the young ones, which are never more 
 than two in number when brought forth, are 
 about the size of a large pug-dog, harmless, 
 pretty, and playful; they continue the teat 
 for twelve months, and the animal is more 
 than five years in coming to perfection. As 
 to its age, from its imprisoned state, we can 
 have no certainty; since it is very probable, 
 that, being deprived of its natural climate, 
 food, and exercise, its life must be very much 
 abridged. However, naturalists have hitherto 
 been greatly mistaken as to the length of its 
 existence. The great he-lion, called Pompcy, 
 which died in the year 1760, was known to 
 have been in the Tower for above seventy 
 
THE CAT KIND. 
 
 297 
 
 years; and one lately died there, which was 
 brought from the river Gambia, that died above 
 sixty-three. The lion, therefore, is a very 
 long-lived animal; and, very probably, in his 
 native forests, his age exceeds even that of 
 man himself." 
 
 In this animal, all the passions, even of the 
 most gentle kind, are in excess, but particu- 
 larly the attachment of the female to her 
 young. The lioness, though naturally less 
 strong, less courageous, and less mischievous 
 than the lion, becomes terrible when she has 
 got young ones to provide for. She then 
 makes her incursions with even more intrepi- 
 dity than the lion himself; she throws herself 
 indiscriminately among men and other animals ; 
 destroys without distinction; loads herself 
 with the spoil, and brings it home reeking to 
 her cubs, whom she accustoms betimes to 
 cruelty and slaughter. She usually brings 
 forth in the most retired and inaccessible 
 places ; and when- she fears to have her re- 
 treat discovered, often hides her tracks, by 
 running back her ground, or by brushing them 
 out with her tail. She sometimes also, when 
 her apprehensions are great, transports them 
 from one place to another; and, if obstructed, 
 defends them with determined courage, and 
 fights to the last. 
 
 The lion is chiefly an inhabitant of the tor- 
 rid zone ; and, as was said, is always most 
 formidable there : nevertheless, he can sub- 
 sist in more temperate climates ; and there 
 was a time when even the southern parts of 
 Europe were infested by him. At present, 
 he is only found in Africa and the East Indies; 
 in some of which countries he grows to an 
 enormous height. The lion of Bildulgerid is 
 said to be nearly five feet high, and between 
 nine and ten feet from the tip of the nose to 
 the insertion of the tail. We have in the Tower, 
 at present, one of above four feet high, that 
 was brought from Morocco, which is the 
 largest that for some time past has been seen 
 in Europe. The ordinary size is between 
 three and four feet ; the female bein in all 
 her dimensions about one-third less than the 
 male. There are no lions in America; the 
 Puma, which has received the name of the 
 American lion, is, when compared, a very con- 
 temptible animal, having neither the shape, 
 the size, nor the mane of the lion; being known 
 
 to be extremely cowardly, to climb trees for 
 its prey, to subsist rather by its cunning than 
 its courage, and to be inferior even to the ani- 
 mal that goes by the name of the American 
 tiger. We ought not, therefore, to confound 
 this little treacherous creature with the lion, 
 which all the ancients have concurred in de- 
 nominating the king of beasts, and which they 
 have described as brave and merciful. " In- 
 deed, the numerous accounts which they have 
 given us of this animal's generosity and ten- 
 derness, show that there must be some foun- 
 dation for the general belief of its good qua- 
 lities ; for mankind seldom err when they are 
 all found to unite in the same story. How- 
 ever, perhaps, the caution of Aristophanes, 
 the comic poet, is better followed in practice, 
 who advises us to have nothing to do with 
 this creature, but to let the lioness suckle her 
 own whelps." 
 
 THE TIGER. 
 
 " THE ancients had a saying, That as the pea- 
 cock is the most beautiful among birds, so is the 
 tiger among quadrupeds* In fact, no quadru- 
 ped can be more beautiful than this animal ; 
 the glossy smoothness of his hair, which lies 
 much smoother, and shines with greater 
 brightness than even that of the leopard ; the 
 extreme blackness of the streaks with which 
 he is marked, and the bright yellow colour of 
 the ground which they diversify, at once strike 
 the beholder. To this beauty of colouring 
 is added an extremely elegant form, much 
 larger, indeed, than that of the leopard, but 
 more slender, more delicate, and bespeaking 
 the most extreme swiftness and agility. Un- 
 happily, however, this animal's disposition is 
 as mischievous as its form is admirable, as if 
 Providence was willing to show the small va- 
 lue of beauty, by bestowing it on the most 
 noxious of quadrupeds. We have at present 
 one of these animals in the Tower, which to 
 the view appears the most good-natured and 
 harmless creature in the world ; its physiog- 
 nomy is far from fierce or angry ; it has not 
 
 Tantem autem prsestat piilchritudine tigris inter alias 
 faeras quantum inter volucre; pavo 
 
298 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 the commanding, stern countenance of the 
 lion, but a gentle, placid air; yet, for all this, 
 it is fierce and savage beyond measure; nei- 
 ther correction can terrify it, nor indulgence 
 can tame. 
 
 The chief and most observable distinction 
 in the tiger, and in which it differs from all 
 others of the mottled kind, is in the shape of 
 its colours, which run in streaks or bands in 
 the same direction as his ribs, from the back 
 down to the belly. The leopard, the panther, 
 and the ounce, are all partly covered like this 
 animal, but with this difference, that their co- 
 lours are broken in spots all over the body ; 
 whereas, in the tiger they stretch lengthwise, 
 and there is scarce a round spot to be found 
 on his skin. Besides this, there are other 
 observable distinctions : the tiger is much 
 larger, and often found bigger than even the 
 lion himself; it is much slenderer also in pro- 
 portion to its size ; its legs shorter, and its 
 neck and body longer. In short, of all other 
 animals, it most resembles the cat in shape; 
 and, if we conceive the latter magnified to a 
 very great degree, we shall have a tolerable 
 idea of the former. 
 
 In classing carnivorous animals, we may 
 place the lion foremost; 1 and immediately 
 after him follows the tiger, which seems to par- 
 take of all the noxious qualities of the lion, 
 without sharing any of his good ones. To 
 pride, courage, and strength, the lion joins 
 greatness, clemency, and generosity : but the 
 tiger is fierce without provocation, and cruel 
 without necessity. The lion seldom ravages 
 except when excited by hunger ; the tiger, on 
 the contrary, though glutted with slaughter, 
 is not satisfied, still continues the carnage, 
 and seems to have its courage only inflamed 
 by not finding resistance. In falling in among 
 a flock or a herd, it gives no quarter, but le- 
 vels all with indiscriminate cruelty, and scarce 
 finds time to appease its appetite while intent 
 upon satisfying the malignity of its nature. 
 It thus becomes the scourge of the country 
 where it is found ; it fears neither the threats 
 nor the opposition of mankind ; the beasts, 
 both wild and tame, fall equally a sacrifice to 
 its insatiable fury ; the young elephant and 
 
 * The remainder of this description is taken from Mr. 
 Buffori, except where marked with commas. 
 
 the rhinoceros become equally its prey, and 
 it not unfrequently ventures to attack even the 
 lion himself. 
 
 Happily for the rest of nature, that this ani- 
 mal is not common, and that the species is 
 chiefly confined to the warmest provinces of 
 the east. The tiger is found in Malabar, in 
 Siam, in Bengal, and in all the countries which 
 are inhabited by the elephant or the rhinoce- 
 ros. Some even pretend that it has a friend- 
 ship for, and often accompanies the latter, in 
 order to devour its excrements, which serve 
 it as a purge. Be this as it will, there is no 
 doubt but that they are often seen together at 
 the sides of lakes and rivers ; where they are 
 probably both compelled to go by the thirst 
 which, in that torrid climate, they must very 
 often endure. It is likely enough also that 
 they seldom make war upon each other, the 
 rhinoceros being a peaceable animal, and the 
 tiger knowing its strength too well to venture 
 the engagement. It is still more likely that 
 the tiger finds this a very convenient situation, 
 since it can there surprise a greater number of 
 animals which are compelled thither from the 
 same motives. In fact, it is generally known 
 to lurk near such places where it has an op- 
 portunity of choosing its prey, or rather of 
 multiplying its massacres. When it has kil- 
 led one, it often goes to destroy others, swal- 
 lowing their blood down at large draughts, 
 and seeming rather glutted than satiated with 
 its abundance. 
 
 However, when it has killed a large animal, 
 such as a horse or a buffalo, it immediately 
 begins to devour it on the spot, fearing to be 
 disturbed. In order to feast at his ease, it 
 carries off its prey to the forest, dragging it 
 along with such ease, that the swiftness of its 
 motion seems scarce retarded by the enor- 
 mous load it sustains. From this alone, we 
 may judge of its strength ; but to have a more 
 just idea of this particular, let us stop a mo- 
 ment to consider the dimensions of this most 
 formidable creature. Some travellers have 
 compared it for size to a horse, and others to 
 a buffalo, while others have contented them- 
 selves with saying, that it is much larger than 
 a lion. We have recent accounts of this ani- 
 mal's magnitude that deserve the utmost con- 
 fidence. Mr. Buffbn has been assured by one 
 of his friends, that he saw a tiger in the East 
 
THE CAT KIND. 
 
 299 
 
 Indies fifteen feet long. " Supposing that he 
 means including the tail, this animal, allowing 
 four feet for that, must have been eleven feet 
 from the tip of the nose to the insertion of the 
 tail. Indeed, that which is now in the Tower 
 is not so large, being, as well as I could mea- 
 sure, six feet from the tip to the insertion, and 
 the tail was three feet more. Like all the 
 rest of its kind, its motions are irregular and 
 desultory; it bounds rather than runs; and, 
 like them, rather chooses to take its prey by 
 surprise, than to be at the trouble of hunting 
 it down." How large a leap it can take at 
 once we may easily judge, by comparing what 
 it might do, to what we see so small an ani- 
 mal as the cat actually perform. The cat can 
 leap several feet at a bound ; and the tiger, 
 who is ten times as long, can no doubt spring 
 proportionably. 
 
 "The tiger is the only animal whose spirit 
 seems untameable. Neither -force nor con- 
 straint, neither violence nor flattery, can pre- 
 vail in the least on its stubborn nature. The 
 caresses of the keeper have no influence on 
 their heart of iron; and time, instead of mol- 
 lifying its disposition, only serves to increase 
 its fierceness and malignity. The tiger snaps 
 at the hand that feeds it, as well as that by 
 which it is chastised , every object seems con- 
 sidered only as its proper prey, which it de- 
 vours with a look; and, although confined by 
 bars and chains, still makes fruitless efforts, 
 as if to show its malignity, when incapable of 
 exerting its force." 
 
 To give a still more complete idea of the 
 strength of this terrible creature, we shall 
 quote a passage from Father Tachard, who 
 was an eye witness of a combat between a 
 tiger and three elephants at Siam. For this 
 purpose, the king ordered a lofty pallisade to 
 be built of bamboo cane, about a hundred feet 
 square ; and in the midst of this were three 
 elephants appointed for combating the tiger. 
 Their heads, and a part of their trunk were 
 covered with a kind of armour, like a mask, 
 which defended that part from the assaults 
 of the fierce animal with which they were to 
 engage. As soon, says this author, as we 
 were arrived at the place, a tiger was brought 
 forth from its den, of a size much larger than 
 we had ever seen before. It was not at first 
 let loose, but held with cords, so that one of 
 
 NO. 25 & 26. 
 
 the elephants approaching, gave it three or 
 four terrible blows with its trunk on the back, 
 with such force, that the tiger was for some 
 time stunned, and lay without motion, as if it 
 had been dead. However, as soon as it was 
 let loose, and at full liberty, although the 
 first blows had greatly abated its fury, it made 
 at the elephant with a loud shriek, and aimed 
 at seizing his trunk. But the elephant, wrink- 
 ling it up with great dexterity, received the 
 tiger on his great teeth, and tossed it up into 
 the air. This so discouraged the furious ani- 
 mal, that it no more ventured to approach the 
 elephant, but made several circuits round the 
 pallisade, often attempting to fly at the spec- 
 tators. Shortly after, three elephants were 
 sent against it, and they continued to strike 
 it so terribly with their trunks, that it once 
 more lay for dead ; and they would certain- 
 ly Slave killed it, had not there been a stop 
 put to the combat. 
 
 From this account, we may readily judge 
 of the strength of this animal, which, although 
 reduced to captivity, arid held by cords; 
 though first disabled, and set alone against 
 three, yet ventured to continue the engage- 
 ment, and even that against animals covered 
 and protected from its fury. 
 
 " Captain Hamilton informs us, that in the 
 Sundah Raijah's dominions there are three 
 sorts of tigers in the woods, and that the smal- 
 lest are the fiercest. This is not above two 
 ; feet high, appears to be extremely cunning, 
 and delights in human flesh. The second 
 kind is about three feet high, and hunts deer 
 and wild hogs, besides the little animal which 
 has been already described under the name 
 of the chevrotain, or Guinea deer. The tiger of 
 the largest sort is above three feet and a "half 
 high: but, although endowed with greater 
 powers, is, by no means, so rapacious as either 
 of the former. This formidable animal, which 
 is called the royal tiger, (one of which we have 
 at present in the Tower,) does not seem so 
 ravenous nor so dangerous, and is even more 
 cowardly. A peasant in that country, as this 
 traveller informs us, had a buffalo fallen into 
 a quagmire, and while he went for assistance, 
 there came a large tiger, that with its single 
 strength drew forth the animal, which the 
 united force of many men could not effect. 
 When the people returned to the place, the 
 3 B 
 
son 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 first object they beheld was the tiger, who 
 had thrown the buffalo over its shoulder, as 
 a fox does a goose, and was carrying it away, 
 with the feet upwards, towards its den; how- 
 ever, as soon as it saw the men, it let fall its 
 prey, and instantly fled to the woods : but 
 it had previously killed the buffalo, and suck- 
 ed its blood ; and, no doubt, the people were 
 very well satisfied with its retreat. It may be 
 observed, that some East Indian buffaloes 
 weigh above a thousand pounds, which is 
 twice as heavy as the ordinary run of our 
 black cattle ; so that from hence we may form 
 a conception of the enormous strength of this 
 rapacious animal, that could thus run off with 
 a weight at least twice as great as that of it- 
 self. 
 
 " Were this animal as common as the pan- 
 ther, or even as the lion himself, thus furnish- 
 ed as it is with the power to destroy, and the 
 appetite for slaughter, the country would be 
 uninhabitable where it resides. But luckily 
 the species is extremely scarce ; and has been 
 so since the earliest accounts we have had of 
 the tiger. About the times of Augustus, we 
 are assured by Pliny, that when panthers 
 were brought to Rome by hundreds, a single 
 tiger wasconsidered as an extraordinary sight ; 
 and he tells us, that the emperor Claudius 
 was able to procure four only ; which shows 
 how difficultly they were procured. The in- 
 credible fierceness of this animal may be, in 
 some measure, the cause of the scarcity which 
 was then at Rome, since it was the opinion of 
 Varro, that the tiger was never taken alive:* 
 tut its being a native only of the East Indies, 
 and that particularly of (he warmer regions, 
 it is not to be wondered that the species should 
 be so few." 
 
 We may, therefore, consider the species of 
 the true streaked tiger, as one of the scarcest 
 of animals, and much less diffused than that 
 of the lion. As to the number of its young, 
 we have no certain accounts; however, it is 
 said, that it brings forth four or five at a time. 
 Although furious at all times, the female, upon 
 this occasion, exceeds her usual rapacity; and, 
 if her young are taken from her, she pursues 
 the spoiler with incredible rage; he, to save 
 a part, is contented to lose a part, and drops 
 
 Tigiisvivuscapiadhucnonpotuit. Var de ling. Lat. 
 
 one of her cubs, with which she immediately 
 returns to her den, and again pursues him ; 
 he then drops another, and by the time she 
 has returned with that, he generally escapes 
 with the remainder. If she loses her young 
 entirely, she then becomes desperate, boldly 
 approaches even the towns themselves, and 
 commits incredible slaughter. The tiger ex- 
 presses its resentment in the same manner 
 with the lion ; it moves the muscles and skin 
 of its face, shows its teeth, and shrieks in the 
 most frightful manner. Its note is very diffe- 
 rent from that of the lion ; being rather a 
 scream than a roar : and the ancients expres- 
 sed it very well, when they said that, tigridos 
 indomitce rancant rugiuntque leo?ies. 
 
 The skin of these animals is much esteem- 
 ed all over the east, particularly in China ; 
 the Mandarines cover their seats of justice 
 in the public places with it, and convert it 
 into coverings for cushions in winter. In Eu- 
 rope, these skins, though but seldom to be 
 met with, are of no great value; those of the 
 panther and the leopard being held in much 
 greater estimation. This is all the little be- 
 nefit we derive from this dreadful animal, of 
 which so many falsehoods have been report- 
 ed ; as, that its sweat was poisonous, and the 
 hair of its whiskers more dangerous than an 
 envenomed arrow. But the real mischiefs 
 which the tiger occasions while living are 
 sufficient, without giving imaginary ones to the 
 parts of its body when dead. In fact, the In- 
 dians sometimes eat its flesh, and find it nei- 
 ther disagreeable nor unwholesome. 
 
 There is an animal of America, which is 
 usually called the red tiger, but Mr. Buffbn 
 calls it the cougar, which, no doubt, is very 
 different from the tiger of the east. Some, 
 however, have thought proper to rank both 
 together, and I will take leave to follow their 
 example, merely because the cougar is more 
 like a tiger in every thing, except the colour, 
 than any other animal I know, having the head, 
 the body, and the neck, shaped very much in 
 the same manner. Of these slight differences, 
 words would give but a very faint idea; it 
 will be, therefore, sufficient to observe, that 
 they are both equally slender, and are smaller 
 where the neck joins the head, than others of 
 the panther kind. There is' one at present 
 in the Tower; and it seemed to me, as well 
 
THE CAT KIND. 
 
 301 
 
 as I could see it through the bars, that were 
 it properly streaked and coloured, it would 
 in all things resemble a small tiger. It is, 
 however, of a very different colour, being of 
 a deep brown, and the tail very long and point- 
 ed. It is rather darker on the back; under 
 the chin it is a little whitish, as also on the 
 lower part of the belly. 
 
 Of all the American animals, this is the 
 most formidable and mischievous ; even their 
 pretended lion not rxcepted : it is said there 
 are several sorts of them ; and, as well as I 
 can remember, I have seen one or two here 
 in England, both differing from the present, 
 in size and conformation. It is, indeed, a vain 
 endeavour to attempt to describe all the less 
 obvious varieties in the cat kind. If we ex- 
 amine them minutely, we shall find the diffe- 
 rences multiply upon us so much, that instead 
 of a history, we shall only be paid with a ca- 
 talogue of distinctions. From such of them 
 as I have seen, within these last six years, I 
 think I could add two animals of this species, 
 that have not been hitherto described, and 
 with the names of which he that showed them 
 was utterly unacquainted But it is a poor 
 ambition, that of being eager to find out new 
 distinctions, or adding one noxious animal 
 more, to a list that is already sufficiently nu- 
 merous. Were the knowing a new variety 
 to open an unknown history, or in the least 
 to extend our knowledge, the inquiry would 
 be then worth pursuing; but what signifies 
 mentioning some trifling difference, and from 
 thence becoming authors of a new name, when 
 the difference might have originally proceed- 
 ed either from climate, soil, or indiscriminate 
 copulation? 
 
 The cougars are extremely common in South 
 America; and, where the towns border upon 
 the forest, these make frequent incursions by 
 night into the midst of the streets, carrying 
 off fowls, dogs, and other domestic creatures. 
 They are, howr-ver, but weak and contemp- 
 tible, compared to the'great tiger, being found 
 unable to cope with a single man. The Ne- 
 groes and Indians are very dexterous in en- 
 countering them ; and some, even for the sake 
 of their skins, seek them in their retreats. 
 The arms in this combat, seemingly so dan- 
 gerous, are only a lance of two or three yards 
 long, made of heavy wood, with the point har- 
 
 dened in the fire ; and a kind of scymitar, of 
 about three quarters of a yard in length. Thus 
 armed, they wait till the tiger makes an as- 
 sault against the left hand, which holds the 
 lance, and is wrapped up in a short cloak of 
 baize. Sometimes the animal, aware of the 
 danger, seems to decline the combat; but 
 then its antagonist provokes it with a slight 
 touch of the lance, in order, while he is de- 
 fending himself, to strike a sure blow. As 
 soon, therefore, as the creature feels the lance, 
 it grasps it with one of its paws, and with the 
 other strikes at the arm which holds it. Then 
 it is that the person nimbly aims a blow with 
 his scymitar, which he kept concealed, with 
 the other hand, and hamstrings the creature, 
 which immediately draws back enraged, but 
 instantly returns to the charge. But then, 
 receiving another stroke, it is totally deprived 
 of the power of motion: and the combatant, 
 killing it at his leisure, strips the skin, cuts 
 off the head, and returns to his companions, 
 displaying these as the trophies of his victory. 
 
 This animal, as we are assured, is often 
 more successful against the crocodile; and it 
 istheonlyquadniped in that part of the world, 
 that is not afraid of the engagement. It must 
 be no unpleasant sight to observe, from a place 
 of safety, this extraordinary combat, between 
 animals so terrible and obnoxious to man. 
 Such as have seen it, describe it in the follow- 
 ing mariner. When the tiger, impelled by 
 thirst, that seems continually to consume it, 
 comes down to the river side to drink, the 
 crocodile, which makes no distinction in its 
 prey, lifts its head above water to seize it ; 
 the tiger, not less rapacious than the other, 
 and unacquainted with the force of the enemy, 
 boldly ventures to seize it, and plunges its 
 claws into the eyes of the crocodile, which is 
 the only vulnerable parts of its body : upon 
 this the crocodile instantly dives under water, 
 and the tiger goes down with him, for he will 
 sooner die than let go its hold. In this man- 
 ner the combat continues for some time, un- 
 til the tiger is drowned, or escapes, as is some- 
 times the case, from its disabled enemy. 
 
 These animals are common in Guiana." 
 They were formerly seen swimming over, in 
 great numbers, into the island of Cayenne, to 
 
 Buff on, vol. xix. p. 22. 
 
 3B* 
 
302 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 attack and ravage the flocks and herds of the 
 inhabitants. In the beginning, they were a 
 terrible scourge to the infant colony ; but, by 
 degrees, they were repulsed and destroyed, 
 and are now seen no longer at that piace. 
 They are found in Brazil, in Paraguay, in the 
 country of the Amazons, and in several other 
 parts of South America. They often climb 
 trees in quest of prey, or to avoid their pur- 
 suers. They are deterred by tire, like all 
 other animals of the cat kind ; or more pro- 
 perly speaking, they seldom venture near 
 those places where they see it kindled, as they 
 are always sure of their enemies being near, 
 and their nocturnal eyes are dazzled by the 
 brightness of the blaze. From the descrip- 
 tion of this animal, one would be hardly led 
 to suppose, that its flesh was good lor food ; 
 and yet we have several accounts which al- 
 lege the fact, some asserting it to be superior 
 even to mutton: however, what Monsieur Des 
 Marchais observes, is most likely to be true; 
 namely, That the most valuable part of this 
 animal is its skin, and that its flesh is but in- 
 different eating, being generally lean, and usu- 
 ally having a strong fumet. 
 
 THE PANTHER AND THE LEOPARD. 
 
 WE have hitherto found no great difficulty 
 in distinguishing one animal from another, 
 each carrying its own peculiar marks, which, 
 in some measure, serve to separate it from all 
 the rest. But it is otherwise, when we come 
 to these of the cat kind, that fill up the chasm 
 between the tiger and the cat. The spots 
 with which their skins are diversified, are so 
 various, and their size so equivocal, that it is 
 no easy matter to distinguish the species, par- 
 ticularly as we have little else but the spots 
 and the size to guide us in making the distinc- 
 tion. If we regard the figure and diversity 
 of the spots, we shall find many varieties not 
 taken notice of by any naturalist: if we are 
 led by the size, we shall find an impercepti- 
 ble gradation from the cat to the tiger. It 
 would be vain, therefore, to make as many 
 varieties in these animals as we seedifferences 
 in spots or stature ; it will be sufficient to seize 
 the most general distinctions, and leave the 
 
 rest to such as are fond of more minute dis- 
 quisitions. 
 
 Of all this tribe, whose skins are so beauti- 
 I fully spotted, and whose natures are so mis- 
 j chievous, the panther may be considered as 
 the foremost. This animal has been by many 
 naturalists mistaken for the tiger, and in fact, 
 it approaches next to it in size, fierceness, and 
 beauty. It is distinguished, however, by one 
 obvious and leading character; that of being 
 spotted, not streaked ; for, in this particular, 
 the tiger differs from the panther, the leopard, 
 and almost all the inferior ranks of this mis- 
 chievous family. 
 
 This animal, which Mr. BufTon calls simply 
 the panther, Linnasus the pard, Gesner the par- 
 dalis, and the modern Latins the Icopardus; this 
 animal, I say, which goes by too many names, 
 and which the English have indiscriminately 
 called by the name of the panther or the leo- 
 pard, may be considered as the largest of the 
 kind, and is spotted in a manner somewhat 
 different from thosethat aresmaller. Asthose 
 spots, however, make the principal difference 
 between it and the lesser animals, which it 
 otherwise resembles inshape,size,disposition, 
 and beauty, I will first show these slight dis- 
 tinctions, and mention the names each animal 
 has received in consequence thereof; and then 
 proceed to give their history together, still 
 marking any peculiarity observable in one 
 of the species, which is not found in the 
 rest. 
 
 Next to the great panther, already mention- 
 ed, is the animal which Mr Puffbn calls the 
 LEOPARD, a name which he acknowledges to 
 be given arbitrarily, for the sake of distinc- 
 tion. Other naturalists have not much at- 
 tended to the slight differences between this 
 and the great panther, nor have they consider- 
 ed its discriminations as sufficient to entitle 
 it to another name. It has hitherto, therefore, 
 gone under the name of the LEOPARD, or PAN- 
 THER of Senegal, where it is chiefly found. 
 The differences between this animal and the 
 former are these : the large panther is often 
 found to be six feet long, from the tip of the 
 nose to the insertion of the tail; the panther 
 of Senegal is not above four. The large pan- 
 ther is marked with spots in the manner of a 
 rose, that is. five or six make a kind of circle, 
 and there is generally a large one in the mid- 
 
THE CAT KIND. 
 
 303 
 
 die. The leopard of Senegal has a much 
 more beautiful coat, the yellow is more bril- 
 liant, and the spots are smaller, and not dis- 
 posed in rings but in clusters. As to the rest, 
 they are both whitish under the belly; the 
 tail in both is pretty long, but rather longer 
 in proportion in the latter, than in the former. 
 To these two animals, whose differences seem 
 to be so very minute, we may add a third ; 
 namely, the JAGUAR, or PANTHER of America. 
 This, in every respect, resembles the two for- 
 mer, except in the disposition of its spots, and 
 that its neck and head are rather streaked 
 than spotted. The jaguar is also said to be 
 lower upon its legs, and less than the leopard 
 of Senegal. These three quadrupeds, as we 
 see, have but very slight differences, and the 
 principal distinction used by Mr. Buffbn, is 
 taken from the size ; the first, as he says, is 
 usually six feet long ; the second, four feet; 
 and the last, about three: however, it appears 
 from the particular subjects of his descrip- 
 tion, that the panther in his possession was 
 not above three feet seven inches long; that 
 the leopard's skin which he describes, was 
 about four; and that the jaguar, at two years 
 old, was between two and three feet long, 
 which, when come to its full growth, would, 
 no doubt, be four feet long, as well as the two 
 former. From hence, therefore, we may con- 
 clude, that the size in these animals is not suf- 
 ficient to make a distinction among them; and 
 that those who called them all three by the 
 indiscriminate names of the leopard and the 
 panther, if not right, were at least excusable. 
 Of those which are now to be seen in the 
 Tower, the jaguar, or the American panther, 
 is rather the largest of the three ; and is by 
 no means the contemptible animal which Mr. 
 Butfbn describes it to be; the leopard is the 
 least of them, and has, by some travellers, 
 been supposed to bean animal produced be- 
 tween the panther and the ounce, an animal 
 which resembles, but is less than any of the 
 former. These three animals we may, there- 
 fore, rank together, as they agree pretty near- 
 ly in their robe, their size, their dispositions, 
 and their ferocity. 
 
 We come next to an animal confessedly 
 different from any of the former, being much 
 smaller, and its colour more inclining to white. 
 Its name, however, in our language, has caus- 
 
 ed no small confusion. It has been general- 
 ly called by foreigners, the ONZA, or the OUNCE, 
 and this name some of our own writers have 
 thought proper to give it ; but others of them, 
 and these the most celebrated, such as Wil- 
 loughby, have given this name to a different 
 animal, with a short tail, and known to (he 
 ancients and moderns by the name of the lynx. 
 I confess myself at a loss, in this case, whom 
 to follow; the alteration of names should be 
 always made with great caution, and never 
 but in cases of necessity. If we follow Wil- 
 loughby, there will be an animal of the pan- 
 ther kind, very distinguishable from all the 
 rest, left without a name; and if we recede 
 from him, it will serve to produce some con- 
 fusion among all the numerous class of readers 
 and writers who have taken him for their 
 guide: however, as he seems himself to have 
 been an innovator, the name of the lynx having 
 been long adopted into our language before, 
 it was unnecessary to give the animal that 
 bore it another name, and to call that creature 
 an ounce, which our old writers had been ac- 
 customed to know by the Latin appellation ; 
 for this reason, therefore, we may safely ven- 
 ture to take a name that has been long mis- 
 applied, from the lynx, and restore it to the 
 animal in question. We will, therefore, call 
 that animal of the panther kind, which is less 
 than the panther, and with a longer tail, the 
 ounce ; and the lynx may remain in possession 
 of that name by which it was known among 
 all our old English writers, as well as by all 
 antiquity. 
 
 The OUNCE, or the ONZA of Linnaeus, is much 
 less than the panther, being not, at most, a bove 
 three feet and a half long: however, its hair 
 is much longer than that of the panther, and 
 its tail still more so. The panther of tour or 
 five feet long, has a tail but of two feet, or two 
 feet and a half. The ounce, which is but 
 about three feet, has a tail often longer than 
 the rest of its body. The colour of the ounce 
 is also apparently different, being rather more 
 inclining to a cream-colour, which is deeper 
 on the back, and whiter towards the belly. 
 The hair on the back is an inch and a half 
 long ; and that on the belly two inches and a 
 half, which is much longer than that of the 
 panther. Its spots are disposed pretty much 
 in the same manner as the large panther, ex- 
 
304 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 cept that on the haunches it is rather marked 
 with stripes than with spots. 
 
 Descending to animals of this kind that are 
 still smaller, we find the CATAMOUNTAIN, which 
 is the ocelot of Mr. Buffbn, or the tiger-cat of 
 most of those who exhibit as a show. It is 
 less than the ounce, but its robe more beauti- 
 fully variegated. It is an American animal, 
 and is about two feet and a half in length, from 
 the nose to the insertion of the tail. It is ex- 
 tremely like a cat, except that it is larger and 
 slenderer, that its colours are more beautiful, 
 and its tail rather shorter. The fur is of a 
 reddish colour, the whole beautified with black 
 spots, and streaks of different figures. They 
 are long on the back, and round on the belly 
 and paws. On the ears are black stripes, 
 which run across ; but, in other respects, they 
 entirely resemble those of a cat. These colours, 
 however, which naturalists have taken great 
 pains minutely to describe, are by no means per- 
 manent, being differently disposed in different 
 animals of the same species. I remember to 
 have seen an animal of this size, but whether 
 of this species I will not pretend to say, some 
 years ago, that was entirely brown, and was 
 said also to have come from America. 
 
 From this tribe of the cat kind, with spotted 
 skins and a long tail, we come to another, 
 with skins diversified in like manner, but with 
 a shorter tail. The principal of these is the 
 LYNX, the name by which the animal was 
 known to ^Elian, among the ancients ; and to 
 all our old English writers among those of a 
 more modern date. This name has been cor- 
 rupted by the Portuguese into the word ouze ; 
 and this corruption has been adopted by Ray, 
 who has improperly called this animal the 
 ounce, after some of the foreign travellers. 
 The first striking distinction between the lynx, 
 and all those of the panther kind, is in its tail, 
 which is at least half as short in proportion, 
 and black at the extremity. Its fur is much 
 longer, the spots on the skin less vivid, and but 
 confusedly mingled with the rest. Its ears are 
 much longer, and tipped at the point with a 
 black tuft of hair. The colour round the eyes 
 is white, and the physiognomy more placid 
 and gentle. Each hair of this animal is of 
 three different colours : (he root is of a grayish 
 brown ; the middle red, or of an ash colour ; 
 and the ends white. This whiteness at the 
 ends takes up so small a part of the particular 
 
 hair, that it does not prevent us from seeing 
 the principal colour, which is that in the mid- 
 dle part ; so that it only makes the surface of 
 the body appear as if it were silvered over : 
 however, the hair of which the spots consist 
 has no white at the ends, and at the roots it is 
 not quite so black as the other part. This ani- 
 mal is not above the size of the ounce, but is 
 rather stronger built, and it has but twenty- 
 eight teeth ; whereas all the rest of the cat 
 kind already mentioned have thirty. 
 
 Another animal of this kind is called the 
 SIAGUSH, or, as Mr. Buffbn names it, the CARA- 
 CAL. It is a native of the East Indies, and 
 resembles the lynx in size, in form, and even 
 in the singularity of being tufted at the tips of 
 the ears. However, the siagush differs in not 
 being mottled as the lynx is ; its Jiir, or rather 
 hair, is rougher and shorter ; its tail is rather 
 longer, its muzzle more lengthened ; its phy- 
 siognomy more fierce, and its nature more 
 savage. 
 
 The third and last animal that need to be- 
 mentioned of this kind, is that which Mr. 
 Buffon calls the SERVAL, and which he has 
 first described. It is a native of Malabar, re- 
 sembling the panther in its spots, but the lynx 
 in the shortness of its tail, in its size, and in its 
 strong built form. 
 
 These seem to be all the principal distinc- 
 tions among animals of the panther kind, from 
 the largest of this tribe down to the domestic 
 cat, which is the smallest of all these fierce 
 and mischievous varieties. In all, their nature 
 seems pretty much the same ; being equally 
 fierce, subtle, cruel, and cowardly. The pan- 
 ther, including the leopard and the jaguar, or 
 American panther, as they are the larg'-st, so 
 also are they the most dangerous of this kind ; 
 for the whole race of cats are noxious in pro- 
 portion to their power to do mischief. They 
 inhabit the most torrid latitudes of India, Afri- 
 ca, arid America, and have never been nlileto 
 multiply beyond the torrid zone. They are 
 generally found in the thickest and the most 
 entangled forests, and often near remote habi- 
 tations, where they watch to surprise all kinds 
 of domestic animals. They very seldom at- 
 tack man, even though provoked by him ; 
 they rather seem desirous of finding safety by 
 flight, or by climbing trees, at which they are 
 very expert. In this manner, also, they often 
 pursue their prey, and, being expert at seizing 
 
THE CAT KIND. 
 
 305 
 
 it, as well above as below, they cause a vast 
 destruction. Of all other animals, these are 
 the most sullen, and, even to a proverb, un- 
 tameable. They still preserve their fierce and 
 treacherous spirit ; and at those places where 
 they are exposed to be seen among others, we 
 often observe that while their keeper is fa- 
 miliar with the lion or the bear, yet he is ap- 
 prehensive of the large panther, and keeps it 
 bound with the shortest chain. 
 
 As the ounce differs from these in figure and 
 size, so also it seems to differ in disposition, 
 being more mild, tractable, and tame. These 
 we often see as harmless and innocent as cats; 
 and there is one at present in the Tower with 
 which the keeper plays without the smallest 
 apprehension. I own I was not a little uneasy, 
 at first, for the man, when he put his hand 
 through the bars, and called the animal by its 
 name ; but I was a good deal surprised to see 
 the creature, which one might suppose irritated 
 by long confinement, come gently up to him, 
 stroke his hand with its face, in the manner of 
 a cat, and testify the utmost gentleness of dis- 
 position. The ounce, therefore, is remarkable 
 for being easily tamed ; and, in fact, it is em- 
 ployed all over the East for the purposes of 
 hunting. Not, indeed, but the panthers them- 
 selves are sometimes used for this purpose, but 
 they are never thoroughly subdued like the 
 former, being usually brought to the field in a 
 carriage, and kept chained and caged until 
 they are shown the gazelle, or the leveret, 
 which is their prey. This they pursue rather 
 by three or four great springs than by running. 
 If they seize it by this sudden effort, it finds no 
 mercy; but if it escapes from this first effort, 
 they never attempt to pursue, and appear 
 quite disappointed and confounded at their 
 mischance. It sometimes happens that they 
 are so much enraged at it, that they attack 
 even their employer, and his only resource to 
 avoid their fury is to throw them some small 
 pieces of meat, which he has brought with him 
 for that purpose. 
 
 The ounce, however, is not so dangerous ; 
 and is treated with more confidence and 
 familiarity. It is usually brought to the field 
 hood-winked behind one of the horsemen. 
 When the game appears, the ounce is instantly 
 uncovered, and shown where it lies ; upon 
 which the fierce creature darts like an arrow 
 to the place, and seizes it at once, or, missing 
 
 it, remains motionless on the place. It would 
 be vain to attempt retrieving its disgrace, by 
 continuing the pursuit ; for, although it bounds 
 with greater agility than most other animals, 
 yet it is slow and awkward in running, and 
 has no means of finding the animal it pursues 
 by the smell, as is common among these of 
 the dog kind. From hence, therefore, it 
 appears how much superior the European 
 method of hunting is to that of the Asiatic ; 
 since whatever amusement this exercise affords 
 must arise from the continuance of the chase, 
 and from the fluctuation of doubt and expecta- 
 tion, which raise and depress the pursuers by 
 turns. All this an Asiatic hunter is deprived 
 of; and his greatest pleasure can scarcely be 
 more than what among us is called coursing, in 
 which the dog pursues the animal, and keeps 
 it constantly in view. 
 
 But it must not be supposed that it is from 
 choice the Asiatics use this method of chase ; 
 for, no doubt, were dogs serviceable among 
 them as they are in Europe, they would be 
 employed for the same purposes. But the fact 
 is, that the extreme heat of the tropical cli- 
 mates produces such universal putrefaction, 
 and sends up such various and powerful scents, 
 that dogs are at first bewildered in the chase, 
 and at last come to lose the delicacy of their 
 scent entirely. They are, therefore, but little 
 used in those warm countries ; and what could 
 they avail in places where almost every other 
 animal of the forest is stronger and more rapa- 
 cious ? The lion, the tiger, the panther, and 
 the ounce, are all natural enemies to the dog, 
 and attack him wherever he appears with un- 
 governable fury. The breed, therefore, in 
 those places, would quickly be destroyed ; so 
 that they are obliged to have recourse to those 
 animals which are more fitted to serve them ; 
 and thus convert the ounce to those purposes 
 for which dogs are employed in Europe. 
 
 The CATAMOUNTAIN, or OCELOT, is one of the 
 fiercest, and, for its size, one of the most de- 
 structive animals in the world. It is, as was 
 before observed, a native of South America, 
 and by no means capable of the same educa- 
 tion as the ounce, which it more approaches 
 in size than in disposition. Two of these, 
 from whom Mr. Buffon has taken his descrip- 
 tion, were brought over from Carthagena, and 
 having been taken from the d*un when very 
 young, were afterwards suckied by a bitch. 
 
306 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 But, before they were three months old, they 
 had strength and ingratitude enough to kill 
 and devour their nurse. Their succeeding 
 fierceness and malignity seemed to correspond 
 with their first efforts ; for no arts could tame 
 or soften their natures ; and while they con- 
 tinued in their cages, they still testified an un- 
 ceasing disposition for slaughter. When their 
 food was given them, the male always served 
 himself before the female ventured to touch 
 a bit ; and it was not till he was satisfied that 
 the other began. In their savage state, these 
 animals are still more destructive ; having 
 great strength and agility, they very easily 
 find and overtake their prey, which they pur- 
 sue among the tops of the trees, as well as on 
 the ground ; but what renders them still more 
 mischievous is, their unceasing appetite rather 
 for the blood than the flesh of their prey. 
 They suck this with the greatest avidity, but 
 frequently leave the carcase otherwise un- 
 touched, in order to pursue other animals for 
 the blood in like manner. They generally 
 continue on the tops of trees, like our wild 
 cats, where they make their nest, and often 
 bring forth their young. When they spy any 
 animal they can master, and there are but 
 few in the forest but what are inferior, they 
 dart down upon it with inevitable exactness. 
 The whole tribe of animals of the panther 
 kind, with long tails, are chiefly inhabitants, 
 as was said, of the torrid zone ; but those of 
 the short-tailed kind, and particularly the 
 lynx, is principally found in the cold countries 
 that are bordering on the pole. The lynx is 
 chiefly to be met with in the north of Germa- 
 ny, Lithuania, Muscovy, Siberia, and North 
 America. Those of the new continent, how- 
 ever, are rather smaller than in Europe, as is 
 the case with almost all their quadrupeds; 
 they are somewhat whiter also, but in other 
 respects there is scarce any difference to be 
 found among them." This animal has been 
 called by some lupus cervarius, or a creature 
 compounded between a wolf and a stag; but 
 for what reason is hard to guess ; it no way 
 resembles either in shape or in disposition. 
 In its nature, it exactly resembles the cat, 
 except that being bigger, and nearly two feet 
 long, it is bolder and fiercer. Like the cat, 
 
 " Buflbn. 
 
 it climbs trees, and seeks its prey by surprise; 
 like the cat it is delicate and cleanly, cover- 
 ing its urine with its paws; and it resembles 
 the wolf in nothing except its cry, which often 
 deceive the hunters, and induces them to think 
 they hear a wolf and not a lynx. This ani- 
 mal also is rather more delicate than the cat; 
 and after having once feasted upon its prey, 
 will never return to it again, but hunts the 
 woods for another. From hence may have 
 arisen the common report of the lynx having, 
 of all other quadrupeds, the shortest memory. 
 This, however, is not the only idle story that 
 has been propagated of it : as of its seeing 
 with such perspicuity, as to perceive objects 
 through walls and mountains ; as of having 
 its urine of such a quality, as to harden, and 
 becomea precious stone; with several others, 
 propagated by ignorance or imposture. 
 
 The SIAGUSH and the SERVAL are both so 
 like all the rest of the cat kind in disposition, 
 that it is but repeating the same account once 
 more to give their distinct history. As the 
 lynx is found only in cold countries, so the 
 siagush is to be met with only in the warm 
 tropical climates. It is used, in the same 
 manner as the ounce, for hunting; but it seems 
 to have a property which the other has not ; 
 namely, that of being able to overtake its prey 
 by pursuing it. Wnether this is performed 
 by having a finer scent than the former, or 
 greater swiftness, we are not informed ; being 
 only told that when it overtakes either the 
 gazelle or the antelope, it leaps upon their 
 backs, and, getting forward to their shoulders, 
 scratches their eyes out, by which means they 
 become an easy prey to the hunters. Some 
 have called this animal the lion's provider ; 
 and it is said that when it calls him to pursue 
 his prey, its voice very much resembles that 
 of one man calling another. 11 From hence we 
 may conjecture that this animal pursues its 
 prey in full cry, and that the lion only follows 
 to partake or seize the spoil. The same ac- 
 count is given also of the jackal ; and very 
 probably it may be true, not only of these ani- 
 mals, but of some others, since it is natural 
 enough to suppose that the lion will pursue 
 whenever he is taught to discover his prey. 
 
 We had one of those animals a few years 
 
 *> Thevenot, vol. ii. p. 114. 
 

 ( J tl'/f/tt'f/ />,/ J 
 
 
THE DOG KIND. 
 
 307. 
 
 ago sent over from the East Indies, but it was 
 not able to endure the change of climate, and 
 it died in a very short time after it was brought 
 to the Tower. Whether consumed by disease 
 or not I cannot tell, but it seemed to be much 
 slenderer than the cat or the lynx, and its ears 
 were much longer; however, it is a very strong 
 creature for its size, and has been known to 
 kill a large dog in single combat : a neverthe- 
 less, it is, like all of the cat kind, except the 
 lion, rem irkable for its cowardice, and will 
 never, except in cases of necessity, attack an 
 animal that is its equal in strength or activity. 
 For this reason, when brought into the field, 
 and put upon a service of danger, it obstinately 
 refuses, and is alert only in the pursuit of ani- 
 mals that are too feeble for resistance, or too 
 timid to exert their strength. 
 
 From what has been said of this capacious 
 tribe, we perceive a similitude in the manners 
 and dispositions of them all, from the lion to 
 the cat. The similitude of their internal con- 
 form ition is still more exact ; the shortness of 
 their intestines, the number of their teeth, and 
 the structure of their paws. The first of this 
 class is the lion, distinguishable from all the 
 rest by his strength, his magnitude, and his 
 mane. The second is the tiger, rather longer 
 than the lion, but not so tall, and known by 
 the streaks and the vivid beauty of its robe ; 
 including also the American tiger or cougar ; 
 distinguishable by its size, next (hat of the tiger, 
 its tawny colour, and its spots. The third is 
 the panther and the leopard. The fourth is 
 the ounce, not so large as any of the former, 
 spotted like them, but distinguishable by the 
 
 cream-coloured ground of its hair, and the 
 great length of its tail, being above the length 
 of its body. The fifth is the catamountain or 
 tiger cat, less than the ounce, but differing 
 particularly in having a shorter tail, and being 
 streaked down the back like a tiger. The 
 sixth is the short-tailed kind ; namely, the 
 lynx, of the size of the former, but with a short 
 tail streaked, and the tips of its ears tufted 
 with black. The seventh is the siagush, 
 differing from the lynx in not being mottled 
 like it, in not being so large, and in having the 
 ears longer, though tipped with black, as be- 
 fore. Ihe eighth is the serval, resembling the 
 lynx in its form, and the shortness of its tail ; 
 streaked also like it, but not having the tips of 
 his ears tufted. Lastly, the cat, wild and 
 tame, with all its varieties ; all less than any 
 of the former, but, like them, equally insidious, 
 rapacious, and cruel. 
 
 This whole race may be considered as the 
 most formidable enemy of mankind; there arc 
 others indeed stronger, but they are gentle, and 
 never offering injury till injured : there are 
 others more numerous, but they are more 
 feeble, and rather look for safety by hiding 
 from man, than opposing him. These are 
 the only quadrupeds that make good their 
 ground against him ; and which may be said 
 to keep some kingdoms of the earth in their 
 own possession. How many extensive coun- 
 tries are there in Africa, where the wild beasts 
 are so numerous, that man is deterred from liv- 
 ing amongst them ; reluctantly giving up to the 
 lion and the leopard extensive tracts, that seem 
 formed only for his delight and convenience ! 
 
 CHAPTER LI. 
 
 ANIMALS OF THE DOG KIND. 
 
 THE second class of carnivorous quadru- 
 peds may be denominated those of the dog 
 Kind. This class is neither so numerous nor 
 so powerful as the former, and yet neither so 
 treacherous, rapacious, or cowardly. This 
 class may be principally distinguished by their 
 
 * Buffon. 
 No. 27 & 28. 
 
 claws, which have no sheath, like those of the 
 cat kind, but still continue at the point of each 
 toe, without a capability of being stretclied 
 forward or drawn back. The nose also, as 
 well as the jaw, of all the dog kind, is longer 
 than in the cat; the body is, in proportion, 
 more strongly made, and covered with hair 
 instead of fur. There are many internal dis- 
 3 C 
 
308 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 tinctions also ; as in the intestines, which are 
 much longer in the dog kind, than in those of 
 the cat ; the eye is not formed for night vision ; 
 and the olfactory nerves are diffused, in the 
 dog kinds, upon a very extensive membrane 
 within the skull. 
 
 If we compare the natural habitudes of this 
 class with the former, we shall find that the 
 dog kinds are not so solitary as those of the cat, 
 but love to hunt in company, and encourage 
 each other with their mutual cries. In this 
 manner the dog and the jackal pursue their 
 prey; and the wolf and fox, which are of this 
 kind, though more solitary and silent among 
 us, yet, in countries where less persecuted, and 
 where they can more fearlessly display th-jir 
 natural inclinations, they are found to keep 
 together in packs, and pursue their game with 
 alternate howlings. 
 
 Animals of the dog kind want some of the 
 advantages of the cat kind, and yet are possess- 
 ed of others in which the latter are deficient. 
 Upon observing their claws, is will easily be 
 perceived that they cannot, like cats, pursue 
 their prey up the sides of a tree, and continue 
 the chase among the branches ; their unma- 
 nageable claws cannot stick in the bark, and 
 thus support the body up along the trunk, as 
 we see the cat very easily perform : whenever, 
 therefore, their prey flies up a tree from them, 
 they can only follow it with their eyes, or 
 watch its motions till hunger again brings it 
 to the ground. For this reason, the proper 
 prey of the dog kind, are only those animals, 
 that, like themselves, are unfitted for climbing; 
 the hare, the rabbit, the gazelle, or the roe- 
 buck. 
 
 As they are, in this respect, inferior to the 
 cat, so they exceed it in the sense of smelling; 
 by which alone they pursue their prey with 
 certainty of success, wind it through all its 
 mazes, and tire it down by perseverance. It 
 often happens, however, in the savage state, 
 that their prey is either too much diaiinished, 
 or two wary to serve for a sufficient supply. 
 In this case, when driven to an extremity, all 
 the dog kinds can live for some time upon 
 fruits and vegetables, which, if they do not 
 please the appetite, at least serve to appease 
 their hunger. 
 
 Of all this tribe, the dog has every reason to 
 claim the preference, being the most intelligent 
 f all known quadrupeds, and the acknow- 
 
 ledged friend of mankind. The dog," inde- 
 pendent of the beauty of his form, his vivacity, 
 force, and swiftness, is possessed of all those 
 internal qualifications that can conciliate the 
 affections of man, and make the tyrant a pro- 
 tector. A natural share of courage, an angry 
 and ferocious disposition, renders the dog, in 
 its savage state, a formidable enemy to all 
 other animals : but these readily give way to 
 very different qualities in the domestic dog, 
 whose only ambition seems the desire to please; 
 he is seen to come crouching along, to lay his 
 force, his courage, and all his useful talents, at. 
 the feet of his master ; he waits his orders, to 
 which he pays implicit obedience ; he consults 
 his looks, and a single glance is sufficient to 
 put him in motion ; he is more faithful even 
 than the most boasted among men ; he is con- 
 stant in his affections, friendly without interest, 
 and grateful for the slightest favours ; much 
 more mindful of benefits received, than injuries 
 offered, he is not driven off by unkindness ; he 
 still continues humble, submissive, and im- 
 ploring ; his only hope to be serviceable, his 
 only terror to displease; he licks the hand 
 that has been just lifted to strike him, and at 
 last disarms resentment, by submissive per- 
 severance. 
 
 More docile than man, more obedient than 
 any other animal, he is not only instructed in 
 a short time, but he also conforms to the dis- 
 positions and the manners of those who com- 
 mand him. He takes his tone from the house 
 he inhabits ; like the rest of the domestics, he 
 is disdainful among the great, and churlish 
 among clowns. Always assiduous in serving 
 his master, and only a friend to his friends, he 
 is indifferent to all the rest, and declares him- 
 self openly against such as seem to be depend- 
 ent like himself. He knows a beggar by his 
 clothes, by his voice, or his gestures, and for- 
 bids his approach. When at night the guard 
 of the house is committed to his care, he seems 
 proud of the charge ; he continues a watchful 
 sentinel, he goes his rounds, scents strangers 
 at a distance, and gives them warning of his 
 being upon duty. If they attempt to break in 
 upon his territories, he becomes more fierce, 
 flies at them, threatens, fights, and either con- 
 quers alone, or alarms those who have most 
 
 a The rest of this description of the dog is taken from 
 Mr. Buffoii ; what I have added, is marked as before. 
 
THE DOG KIND. 
 
 3Q9 
 
 interest in coming to his assistance; however, 
 when he has conquered, he quietly reposes 
 upon the spoil, and abstains from what he has 
 deterred others from abusing ; giving thus at 
 once a 'lesson of courage, temperance, and 
 fidelity. 
 
 From hence we see of what importance 
 this animal is to us in a state of nature. Sup- 
 posing, for a moment, that the species had 
 not existed, how could man, without the as- 
 sistance of the dog, have been able to con- 
 quer, tame, and reduce to servitude, every 
 other animal? How could he discover, chase, 
 and destroy, those that were noxious to him? 
 In order to be secure, and to become master 
 of all Animated Nature, it was necessary for 
 him to begin by making a friend of a part of 
 them ; to attach such of them to himself, by 
 kindness and caresses, as seem fittest for obe- 
 dience and active pursuit. Thus the first art 
 employed by man, was in conciliating the fa- 
 vour of the dog; and the fruits of this art 
 were, the conquest and peaceable possession 
 of the earth. 
 
 The generality of animals have greater 
 agility, greater swiftness, and more formidable 
 arms, from nature, than man ; their senses, 
 and particularly that of smelling, are far more 
 perfect : they having gained, therefore, a new 
 assistant, particularly one whose scent is so 
 exquisite as that of the dog, was the gaining a 
 new sense, a new faculty, which before was 
 wanting. The machines and instruments 
 which we have imagined for perfecting the 
 rest of the senses, do not approach to that 
 already prepared by nature, by which we are 
 enabled to find out every animal, though un- 
 seen, and thus destroy the noxious, and use 
 the serviceable. 
 
 The dog, thus useful in himself, taken into 
 a participation of empire, exerts a degree of 
 superiority over all animals that require human 
 protection. The flock and the herd obey his 
 voice more readily even than that of the shep- 
 herd or the herdsman; he conducts them, 
 guards them, keeps them from capriciously 
 seeking danger, and their enemies he considers 
 as his own. Nor is he less useful in the pur- 
 suit ; when the sound of the horn, or the voice 
 of the huntsman calls him to the field, he tes- 
 tifies his pleasure by every little art, and pur- 
 sues with perseverance those animals, which, 
 
 when taken, he must not expect to divide. 
 The desire of hunting is indeed natural to him, 
 as well as to his master, since war and the 
 chase are the only employment of savages. 
 All animals that live upon flesh hunt by na- 
 ture ; the lion and the tiger, whose force is so 
 great that they are sure to conquer, hunt 
 alone and without art ; the wolf, the fox, and 
 the wild-dog, hunt in packs, assists each 
 other, and partake the spoil. But when edu- 
 cation has perfected this talent in the domes- 
 tic dog; when he has been taught by man 
 to repress his ardour, to measure his motions, 
 and not to exhaust his force by too sudden 
 an exertion of it, he then hunts with method, 
 and always with success. 
 
 "Although the wild dog, such as he was 
 before he came under the protection of man- 
 kind, is at present utterly unknown, no such 
 animal being now to be found in any part of 
 the world ; yet there are many that, from a 
 domestic state, have turned savage, and en- 
 tirely pursue the dictates of nature." In those 
 deserted and uncultivated countries where the 
 dog is found wild, they seem entirely to par- 
 take of the disposition of the wolf; they unite 
 in large bodies, and attack the most formidable 
 animals of the forest, the cougar, the panther, 
 and the bison. In America, where they were 
 originally brought by the Europeans, and aban- 
 doned by their masters, they have multiplied 
 to such a degree, that they spread in packs 
 over the whole country, attack all other ani- 
 mals, and even man himself does not pass with- 
 out insult. They are there treated in the 
 same manner as all other carnivorous animals, 
 and killed wherever they happen to come : 
 however, they are easily tamed : when taken 
 home, and treated with kindness and lenity, 
 they quickly become submissive and familiar, 
 and continue faithfully attached to their mas- 
 ters. Different in this from the wolf or the 
 fox, who, though taken never soyoung, are gen- 
 tle only while cubs, and, as they grow older, 
 give themselves up to their natural appetites 
 of rapine and cruelty. In short, it may be as- 
 serted, that the dog is the only animal whose 
 fidelity is unshaken ; the only one who knows 
 his master, and the friends of the family ; the 
 only one who instantly distinguishes a stranger; 
 the only one who knows his name, and answers 
 to the domestic call ; the only one who seems 
 3C* 
 
310 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 to understand the nature of subordination, and 
 seeks assistance ; the only one who, when he 
 misses his master, testifies his loss by his com- 
 plaints ; the only one who, carried to a distant 
 place, can find the way home ; the only one 
 whose natural talents are evident, and whose 
 education is always successful. 
 
 In the same manner, as the dog is of the 
 most complying disposition, so also is it the 
 most susceptible of change in its form; the 
 varieties of this animal being too many for 
 even the most careful describer to mention. 
 The climate, the food, and the education, all 
 make strong impressions upon the animal, and 
 produce alterations in its shape, its colour, 
 its hair, its size, and in every thing but its 
 nature. The same dog, taken from one cli- 
 mate and brought to another, seems to become 
 another animal; but different breeds are as 
 much separated, to all appearance, as any 
 two animals the most distinct in nature. No- 
 thing appears to continue constant with them, 
 but their internal conformation ; different in 
 the figureof the body, inthe length of the nose, 
 in the shape of the head, in the length and 
 the direction of the ears and tail, in the co- 
 lour, the quality, and the quantity of the hair ; 
 in short, different in every thing but that make 
 of the parts which serve to continue the spe- 
 cies, and keep the animal distinct from all 
 others. It is this peculiar conformation, this 
 power of producing an animal that can repro- 
 duce, that marks the kind, and approximates 
 forms that at first sight seem never made for 
 conjunction. 
 
 From this single consideration, therefore, 
 we may at once pronounce all dogs to be of 
 one kind ; but which of them is the original 
 of all the rest, which of them is the savage 
 dog from whencesucha variety of descendants 
 have come down, is no easy matter to deter- 
 mine. We may easily, indeed, observe, that 
 all those animals which are under the influence 
 of man, are subject to great variations. Such 
 as have been sufficiently independent, so as 
 to choose their own climate, their own nou- 
 rishment, and to pursue their own habitudes, 
 preserve the original marks of nature, without 
 much deviation ; and it is probable, that the 
 first of these is even at this day very well re- 
 presented in their descendants. But such as 
 man has subdued, transported from one cli- 
 
 mate to another, controlled in their manner 
 of living, and their food, have most probably 
 been changed also in their forms ; particular- 
 ly the dog has felt these alterations more 
 strongly than any other of the domestic kinds; 
 for living more like man, he may be thus said 
 to live more irregularly also, and, consequent- 
 ly, must have felt all those changes that such 
 variety would naturally produce. Some other 
 causes also may be assigned for this variety 
 in the species of the dog: as he is perpetual- 
 ly under the eye of his master, when accident 
 has produced any singularity in its producti- 
 ons, man uses all his art to continue this pe- 
 culiarity unchanged ; either by breeding from 
 such as had those singularities, or by destroy- 
 ing such as happened to want them; besides, 
 as the dog produces much more frequently 
 than some other animals, and lives a shorter 
 time, so the chance for its varieties will be 
 offered in greater proportion. 
 
 But which is the original animal, and which 
 the artificial or accidental variety, isaquestion 
 which, as was said, is not easily resolved. If 
 the internal structure of dogs of different sorts 
 be compared with each other, it will be found, 
 except in point of size, that in this respect 
 they are exactly the same. This, therefore, 
 affords no criterion. If other animals be com- 
 pared with the dog internally, the wolf and 
 the fox will be found to have the most perfect 
 resemblance ; it is probable, therefore, that 
 the dog, Avhich most nearly resembles the 
 wolf or the fox externally, is the original ani- 
 mal of its kind: for it is natural to suppose, 
 that as the dog most nearly resembles them 
 internally, so he may be near them in exter- 
 nal resemblance also, except where art or 
 accident has altered his form. This being 
 supposed, if we look among the number of 
 varieties to be found in the dog, we shall not 
 find one so like the wolf or the fox, as that 
 which is called the shepherd's dog. This is 
 that dog with long coarse hair on all parts 
 except the nose, pricked ears, and a long nose, 
 which is common enough among us, and re- 
 ceives his name from being principally used 
 in guarding and attending on sheep. This 
 seems to be the primitive animal of his kind; 
 and we shall be the more coi firmed in this 
 opinion, if we attend to the different charac- 
 ters which climate produces in the animal. 
 
THE DOG KIND. 
 
 311 
 
 and the different races of dogs which are pro- 
 pagated in every country : and, in the first 
 place, if we examine those countries which are 
 still savage, or but half civilized, where it is 
 most probable the dog, like his master, has re- 
 ceived but few impressions from art, we shall 
 find the shepherd's dog, or one very lik- 1 him, 
 still prevailing amongst them. The dogs that 
 have run wild in America, and in Congo, ap- 
 proach this form. The dog of Siberia, Lap- 
 land, and Iceland, of the Cape of Good Hope, 
 of Madagascar, Madura, Calicut, and Malabar, 
 have all a long nose, pricked ears, and resem- 
 ble the shepherd's dog very nearly. In Guinea, 
 the dog very speedily takes this form ; for, at 
 the second or third generation, the animal for- 
 gets to bark, his ears and his tail become point- 
 ed, and his hair drops off, while a coarser, 
 thinner kind comes in the place. This sort of 
 dog is also to be found in the temperate cli- 
 mates in great abundance, particularly among 
 those who, preferring usefulness to beauty, \ 
 employ an animal that requires very little in- 
 struction to be serviceable. Notwithstanding 
 this creature's deformity, his melancholy and 
 savage air, he is superior to all the rest of his 
 kind in instinct; and without any teaching, 
 naturally takes to tending flocks, with an 
 assiduity and vigilance that at once astonishes, 
 and yet relieves his master. 
 
 In more polished and civilized places, the 
 dog seems to partake of the universal refine- 
 ment ; and, like the men, becomes more beau- 
 tiful, more majestic, and more capable of 
 assuming an education foreign to his nature. 
 The dogs of Albany, of Greece, of Denmark, 
 and of Ireland, are larger and stronger than 
 those of any other kind. In France, Germany, 
 Spain, and Italy, the dogs are of various kinds, 
 like the men ; and this variety seems formed 
 by crossing the breed of such as are imported 
 from various climes. 
 
 The shepherd's dog may, therefore, be con- 
 sidered as the primitive stock from whence 
 these varieties are all derived. He makes the 
 stem of that genealogical tree which has been 
 branched out into every part of the world. 
 This animal still continues pretty nearly in its 
 original state among the poor in temperate cli- 
 mates ; being transported into the colder 
 regions, he grows less and more ugly among 
 the Laplanders ; but becomes more perfect in 
 Iceland, Russia, and Siberia, where the climate 
 
 is less rigorous, and the people more civilized. 
 Whatever differences there may be among the 
 dogs of these countries, they are not very con- 
 siderable, as they have all straight ears, long 
 and thick hair, a savage aspect, and do not 
 bark either so often or so loud as dogs of the 
 more cultivated kind. 
 
 The shepherd's dog, transported into the 
 temperate climates, and among people entirely 
 civilized, such as England, France, and Ger- 
 many, will be divested of his savage air, his 
 pricked ears, his rough, long, and thick hair ; 
 and, from the single influence of climate and 
 food alone, will become either a matin, a mas- 
 tiff, or a hound. These three seem the imme- 
 diate descendants of the former ; and from 
 them the other varieties are produced. 
 
 The HOUND, the HARRIER, and the BEAGLE, 
 seem all of the same kind ; for although the 
 bitch is covered but by one of them, yet in her 
 litters are found puppies resembling all the 
 three. This animal, transported into Spain or 
 Barbary, where the hair of all quadrupeds be- 
 come soft and long, will be there converted 
 into the land-spaniel, and the water-spaniel, 
 and these of different sizes. 
 
 The GRAY MATIN HOUND, which is in the 
 second branch, transported to the north, be- 
 comes the great Danish dog ; and this, sent 
 into the south, becomes the gray-hound, of 
 different sizes. The same, transported into 
 Ireland, the Ukraine, Tartary, Epirus, and 
 Albania, becomes the great wolf-dog, known 
 by the name of the Irish wolf-dog. 
 
 The MASTIFF, which is the third branch, and 
 chiefly a native of England, when transported 
 into Denmark, becomes the little Danish dog; 
 and this little Danish dog, sent into the tropical 
 and warm climates, becomes the animal called 
 the TURKISH DOG, without hair. All these 
 races, with their varieties, are produced by the 
 influence of climate, joined to the different 
 food, education, and shelter, which they have 
 received among mankind. All other kinds 
 may be considered as mongrel races, produced 
 by the concurrence of these, and found rather 
 by crossing the breed than by attending to the 
 individual. " As these are extremely numer- 
 ous, and very different in different countries, 
 it would be almost endless to mention the 
 whole ; besides, nothing but experience can 
 ascertain the reality of these conjectures, 
 although they have so much the appearance of 
 
312 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 probability ; and until that gives more certain 
 information, we must be excused from enter- 
 ing more minutely into the subject. 
 
 " With regard to the dogs of our country in 
 particular, the varieties are very great, and the 
 number every day increasing. And this must 
 happen in a country so open by commerce to 
 all others, and where wealth is apt to produce 
 capricious predilection. Here the ugliest and 
 the most useless of their kinds will be enter- 
 tained merely for their singularity ; and, being 
 imported only to be looked at, they will lose 
 even that small degree of sagacity which they 
 possessed in their natural climates. From this 
 importation of foreign useless dogs, our own 
 native breed is, I am informed, greatly de- 
 generated, and the varieties now to be found 
 in England much more numerous than they 
 were in the times of Queen Elizabeth, when 
 Doctor Caius attempted their natural history. 
 Some of these he mentions are no longer to be 
 found among us, although many have since 
 been introduced, by no means so serviceable 
 as those which have been suffered to decay. 
 
 " He divides the whole race into three kinds. 
 The first is, the generous kind, which consists 
 of the terrier, the harrier, and the blood-hound ; 
 the gaze-hound, the gray-hound, the leymmer, 
 and the tumbler ; all these are used for hunt- 
 ing. Then the spaniel, the setter, and the 
 water-spaniel, or finder, were used for fowling ; 
 and the spaniel gentle, or lap-dog, for amuse- 
 ment. The second is the farm kind ; consist- 
 ing of the shepherd's dog and the mastiff. And 
 the third is the mongrel kind ; consisting of 
 the wappe, the turnspit, and the dancer. To 
 these varieties we may add at present, the bull- 
 dog, the Dutch mastiff, the harlequin, the poin- 
 ter, and the Dane, with a variety of lap-dogs, 
 which, as they are perfectly useless, may be 
 considered as unworthy of a name. 
 
 " The Terrier is a small kind of hound," 
 with rough hair, made use of to force the fox 
 or the badger out of their holes ; or rather to 
 give notice, by their barking, in what part of 
 their kennel the fox or badger resides, when 
 the sportsmen intend to dig them out. 
 
 " The Harrier, as well as the beagle and the 
 fox-hound, are used for hunting ; of all other 
 animals, they have the quickest and most dis- 
 tinguishing sense of smelling. The properly 
 
 British Zoology. 
 
 breeding, matching, and training these, make 
 up the business of many men's lives. 
 
 " The Blood -hound was a dog of great use, 
 and in high esteem among our ancestors. Its 
 employ was to recover any game that had es- 
 caped from the hunter, or had been killed, and 
 stolen out of the forest. But it was still more 
 employed in hunting thieves and robbers by 
 their footsteps. At that time, when the coun- 
 try was less peopled than at present, and when, 
 consequently, the footsteps of one man were 
 less crossed and obliterated by those of others, 
 this animal was very serviceable in such pur- 
 suits ; but at present, when the country is every 
 where peopled, this variety is quite worn out ; 
 probably because it was found of less service 
 than formerly. 
 
 " The Gaze-hound hunted, like our gray- 
 hounds, by the eye and not by the scent. It 
 chased indifferently the fox, hare, or buck. It 
 would select from the herd the fattest and fair- 
 est deer, pursue it by the eye, and if lost reco- 
 ver it again with amazing sagacity. This spe- 
 cies is now lost or unknown among us. 
 
 " The Gray-hound is very well known at 
 present, and was formerly held in such estima- 
 tion, that it was the peculiar companion of a 
 gentleman ; who, in the times of semi-barba- 
 rism, was known by his horse, his hawk, and 
 his gray-hound. Persons under a certain rank 
 of life are forbidden, by some late game-laws, 
 from keeping this animal ; wherefore, to dis- 
 guise it the better, they cut off its tail. 
 
 " The Leymmer is a species now unknown 
 to us. It hunted both by scent and sight, and 
 was led in a leyme or thong, from whence it 
 received its name. 
 
 "The Tumbler was less than the hound, 
 more scraggy, and had pricked cars ; so that 
 by the description it seems to answer to the 
 modern lurcher. This took its prey by mere 
 cunning, depending neither on the goodness 
 of its nose nor its swiftness. If it caruc into a 
 warren, it neither barked nor ran on the rab- 
 bits ; but seemingly inattentive, approached 
 sufficiently near till it came within reach, and 
 then seized them by a sudden spring. 
 
 " The Land Spaniel, which probably had 
 its name from Spain, where it might have ac- 
 quired the softness of its hair, is well known 
 at present. There are two varieties of this 
 kind ; namely, the Slater, used in hawking to 
 spring the game ; and the Setter, that crouches 
 
THE DOG KIND. 
 
 313 
 
 down when it scents the birds, till ihe net be 
 drawn over them. I have read somewhere 
 that the famous poet, Lord Surry, was the 
 first who taught dogs toset; it being an amuse- 
 ment to this day only known in England. 
 
 " The Water-Spaniel was another species 
 used in fowling. This seems to be the most 
 docile of all the dog kind ; and this docility 
 is particularly owing to his natural attach- 
 ment to man. Many other kinds will not bear 
 correction ; but this patient creature, though 
 very fierce to strangers, seems unalterable in 
 his affections ; and blows and ill usage seem 
 only to increase his regard. 
 
 " The Lap-dog, at the time of Doctor Caius, 
 was of Maltese breed ; at present it comes 
 from different countries ; in general, the more 
 awkward or extraordinary these are, the more 
 they are prized. 
 
 " The Shepherd's dog has been already 
 mentioned, and as for the Mastiff he is too 
 common to require a description. Doctor 
 Caius tells us, that three of these were reckon- 
 ed a match for a bear, and four for a lion. 
 However, we are told that three of them over- 
 came a lion in the time of King James the 
 first ; two of them being disabled in the com- 
 'bat, the third obliged the lion to seek for safe- 
 ty by flight. 
 
 "As to the last division, namely, of the 
 Wappe, the Turnspit, and the Dancer, these 
 were mongrels, of no certain shape, and made 
 use of only to alarm the family, or, being taught 
 a variety of tricks, were carried about as a 
 show. 
 
 " With regard to those of later importation, 
 the Bull-dog, as Mr. Buffon supposes, is a 
 breed between the small Dane and the Eng- 
 lish mastiff. The large Dane is the tallest 
 dog that is generally bred in England. It is 
 somewhat between a mastiffand a gray-hound 
 in shape, being more slender than the one 
 and much stronger than the other. They 
 are chiefly used rather for show than service, 
 being neither good in the yard nor the field. 
 The highest are most esteemed; and they 
 generally cut off their ears to improve their 
 figure, as some absurdly suppose. The har- 
 lequin is not much unlike the small Dane, 
 being an useless animal, somewhat between 
 an Italian gray-hound and a Dutch mastiff 
 To these several others might be added, such 
 
 as the pug-dog, the black breed, and the poin- 
 ter; but, in fact, the varieties are so nume- 
 rous as to fatigue even the most ardent cu- 
 riosity." 
 
 Of these of the foreign kinds, I shall mention 
 only three, which are more remarkable than 
 any of the rest. The Lion-Dog greatly resem- 
 bles that animal, in miniature, from whence 
 it takes the name. The hair of the fore-part 
 of its body is extremely long, while that of 
 the hinder-part is as short. The nose is short, 
 the tail long, and tufted at the point, so that 
 in all these particulars it is entirely like the 
 lion. However, it differs very much from 
 that fierce animal in nature and disposition, 
 being one of the smallest animals of its kind, 
 extremely feeble, timid, and inactive. It 
 comes originally from Malta, where it is found 
 BO small that women carry it about in their 
 sleeves. 
 
 That animal falsely called the Turkish-dog, 
 differs greatly from the rest of the kind, in 
 being entirely without hair. The skin, which 
 is perfectly bare, is of a flesh colour, with 
 brown spots; and their figure, at first view, 
 is rather disgusting. These seem to be of 
 the small Danish breed, brought into a warm 
 climate, and there, by a succession of gene- 
 rations, divested of their hair. For this rea- 
 son, they are extremely chilly, and unable to 
 endure the cold of our climate; and even in 
 the midst of summer, they continue to shiver 
 as we see men in a frosty day. Their spots 
 are brown, as was said, well marked, and ea- 
 sily distinguishable in summer, but in the cold 
 of winter they entirely disappear. They are 
 called the Turkish breed, although brought 
 from a much warmer climate ; for some of 
 them have been known to come from the warm- 
 est parts of Africa and the East Indies. 
 
 " The last variety, and the most wonderful 
 of all that I shall mention, is the Great Irish 
 Wolf-dog, that may be considered as the first 
 of the canine species. This animal, which is 
 very rare, even in the only country in the 
 world where it is to be found, is rather kept 
 for show than use, there being neither wolves 
 nor any other formidable beasts of prey in 
 Ireland, that seem to require so powerful an 
 antagonist. The wolf-dog is therefore bred 
 up in the houses of the great, or such gentle- 
 men as choose to keep him as a curiosity, being 
 
314 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 neither good for hunting the hare, the fox, nor 
 the stag, and equally unserviceable as a house 
 dog. Nevertheless he is extremely beautiful 
 and majestic to appearance, being the great- 
 est of the dog kind to be seen in the world. 
 The largest of those I have seen, and I have 
 seen above a dozen, was about four feet high, 
 or as tall as a calf of a year old. He was 
 made extremely like a gray-hound, but rather 
 more robust, and inclining to the figure of the 
 French matin, or the great Dane. His eye 
 was mild, his colour white, and his nature 
 seemed heavy and phlegmatic. This I as- 
 cribed to his having been bred up to a size 
 beyond his nature ; for we see in man, and all 
 other animals, that such as are overgrown are 
 neither so vigorous nor alert as those of a 
 more moderate stature. The greatest pains 
 have been taken with these to enlarge the 
 breed, both by food and matching. This end 
 was effectually obtained, indeed, for the size 
 was enormous ; but, as it seemed to me, at 
 the expense of the animal's fierceness, vigi- 
 lance, and sagacity. However, I was inform- 
 ed otherwise ; the gentlemen who bred them 
 assuring me that a mastiff would be nothing 
 when opposed to one of them, who general- 
 ly seized their antagonist by the back: he add- 
 ed, that they would worry the strongest bull- 
 dogs, in a few minutes, to death. But this 
 strength did not appear either in their figure or 
 their inclinations ; they seemed rather more 
 timid than the ordinary race of dogs; and 
 their skin was much thinner, and consequent- 
 ly less fitted for combat. Whether, with these 
 disadvantages they were capable, as I was 
 told, of singly coping with bears, others may 
 determine; however, they have but few op- 
 portunities, in their own country, of exerting 
 their strength, as all wild carnivorous animals 
 there are only of the vermin kind. Mr. Buf- 
 fon seems to be of opinion that these are the 
 true Molossian dogs of the ancients ; he gives 
 no reason for this opinion ; and I am apt to 
 think it ill-grounded. Not to trouble the rea- 
 der with a tedious critical disquisition, which 
 I have all along avoided, it will be sufficient 
 to oberve, that Nemesianus, in giving direc- 
 tions for the choice of a bitch, advises to have 
 one of Spartan or Molossian breed; and, 
 among several other perfections, he says that 
 the ears should be dependent, and fluctuate 
 
 as she runs." This, however, is by no means 
 the case with the Irish wolf-dog, whose ears 
 resemble those of the gray-hound, and are 
 far from fluctuating with the animal's motions. 
 But of whatever kinds these dogs may be, 
 whether known among the ancients, or whe- 
 ther produced by a later mixture, they are 
 now almost quite worn away, and are very 
 rarely to be met with even in Ireland. If car- 
 ried to other countries, they soon degenerate ; 
 and even at home, unless great care be taken, 
 they quickly alter. They were once employ- 
 ed in clearing the island of wolves, which in- 
 fested it in great plenty ; but these being de- 
 stroyed, the dogs also are wearing away, as 
 if nature meant to blot out the species, when 
 they had no longer any services to perform. 
 
 " In this manner several kinds of animals 
 fade from the face of nature, that were once 
 well known, but are now seen no longer. The 
 enormous elk of the same kingdom, that, by 
 its horns, could not have been less than ele- 
 ven feet high, the wolf, and even the wolf-dog, 
 are extinct, or only continued in such a man- 
 ner as to prove their former plenty and exist- 
 ence. From hence it is probable, that many 
 of the nobler kinds of dogs, of which the an- 
 cients have given us such beautiful descripti- 
 ons, are now utterly unknown ; since among 
 the whole breed we have not one that will 
 venture to engage the lion or the tiger in sin- 
 gle combat. The English bull-dog is perhaps 
 the bravest of the kind ; but what art; his 
 most boasted exploits to those mentioned of 
 the Epirotic dogs by Pliny, or the Indian dogs 
 by .(Elian. The latter gives us a description 
 of a combat between a dog and a lion, which 
 I will take leave to translate. 
 
 "When Alexander was pursuing his con- 
 quests in India, one of the principal men of 
 that country was desirous of showing him the 
 value of the dogs, which his country produ- 
 ced. Bringing his dog into the king's pre- 
 sence, he ordered a stag to be let loose be- 
 fore him, which the dog despised as an un- 
 worthy enemy, remained quite regardless of 
 the animal, and never once stirred from his 
 
 a Elige tune cursu facilem, facilemque recursu, 
 In Lacedremonio natam seu rure Molosso 
 Renibus ampla satis validis, diductaque coxas 
 Cuique nimis molles fluitent in cursibus aures. 
 
 NKMESIAN. 
 
THE DOG KIND. 
 
 315 
 
 place. His master then ordered a wild boar 
 to be set out ; but the dog thought even this a 
 despicable foe, and remained calm and re- 
 gardless as before. He was next tried with 
 a bear ; but still despising his enemy, he only 
 waited for an object more worthy of his cou- 
 rage and his force. At last they brought forth 
 a tremendous lion, and then the dog acknow- 
 ledged his antagonist, and prepared for com- 
 bat. He instantly discovered a degree of un- 
 governable ardour; and, flying at the lion with 
 fury, seized him by the throat, and totally dis- 
 abled him from resistance. Upon this, the 
 Indian, who was desirous of surprising the 
 king, and knowing the constancy and bravery 
 of his dog, ordered his tail to be cut off; 
 which was easily performed as the bold ani- 
 mal was employed in holding the lion. He 
 next ordered one of his legs to be broken ; 
 which, however, did not in the least abate 
 the dog's ardour, but he still kept his hold as 
 before. Another leg was then broken ; but 
 the dog, as if he had suffered no pain, only 
 pressed the lion still the more. In this cruel 
 manner, all his legs wore cut off, without aba- 
 ting his courage ; and at last, when even his 
 head was separated from his body, the jaws 
 seemed to keep their former hold. A sight 
 so cruel did not fail to affect the king with 
 very strong emotions, at once pitying the 
 dog's fate, and admiring his fortitude. Upon 
 which the Indian, seeing him thus moved, pre- 
 sented him with four dogs of the same kind, 
 which, in some measure, alleviated his un- 
 easiness for the loss of the former. 
 
 " The breed of dogs, however, in that coun- 
 try, is at present very much inferior to what 
 this story seems to imply; since, in many pla- 
 ces, instead of dogs, they have animals of the 
 cat kind for hunting. In other places, also, 
 this admirable and faithful animal, instead of 
 being applied to his natural uses, is only kept 
 to be eaten. All over China, there are dog- 
 butchers, and shambles appointed for selling 
 their flesh. In Canton, particularly, there is 
 astreet appointed for that purpose; and, what 
 is very extraordinary, wherever a dog-butcher 
 appears, all the dogs of the place are sure to 
 be in full cry after him ; they know their ene- 
 my, and persecute him as far as they nre able." 
 Along the coasts of Guinea, their flesh is es- 
 teemed a delicacy by the Negroes ; and they 
 
 NO. 27 & 28. 
 
 will give one of their cows for a dog. But, 
 among this barbarous and brutal people, 
 scarce any thing that has life comes amiss ; 
 and they may well take up with a dog, since 
 they consider toads, lizards, and even the flesh 
 of the tiger itself, as a dainty. It may, per- 
 haps, happen that the flesh of this animal, 
 which is so indifferent in the temperate cli- 
 mates, may assume a better quality in those 
 which are more warm ; but it is more than 
 probable that the diversity is rather in man 
 than in the flesh of the dog; since in the cold 
 countries the flesh is eaten with equal appe- 
 tite by the savages; and they have their dog- 
 feasts in the same manner as we have ours 
 for venison. 
 
 In our climate, the wild animals that most 
 approach the dog are the wolf and the fox; 
 these, in their internal conformation, greatly 
 resemble each other, and yet in their natures 
 are very distinct. The ancients asserted that 
 they bred together; and I am assured, by cre- 
 dible persons, that there are many animals in 
 this country bred between a dog and a fox. 
 However, all the endeavours of Mr. Buffon.to 
 make them engender, as he assures us, were 
 ineffectual. For this purpose, he bred up a 
 young wolf, taken in the woods, at two months 
 old, with a matin dog of the'same age. They 
 were shut up together, without any other, in 
 a large yard, where they had a shelter for re- 
 tiring. They neither of them knew any other 
 individual of their kind, nor even any other 
 man, but he who had the charge of feeding 
 them. In this manner they were kept for three 
 years ; still with the same attention, and with- 
 out constraining or tying them up. During 
 the first year the young animals played with 
 each other continually, and seemed to love 
 each other very much. In the second year, 1 
 they began to dispute about their victuals, 
 although they were given more than they 
 could use. The quarrel always began on the 
 wolfs side. They were brought their food, 
 which consisted of flesh and bones, upon a 
 large wooden platter, which was laid on the 
 ground. Just as it was put down, the wolf, 
 instead of falling to the meat, began by driving 
 off the dog; and took the platter in its teeth 
 so expertly, that it let nothing of what it con- 
 tained fall upon the ground, and in this man- 
 ner carried it off; but a^ the wolf could not 
 3D 
 
316 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 entirely escape, it was frequently seen to run 
 with the platter round the yard five or six 
 times, still carrying it in a position that none 
 of its contents could fall. In this manner it 
 would continue running, only now and then 
 stopping to take breath, until the dog coming 
 up, the wolf would leave the victuals to attack 
 him. The dog, however, was the stronger of 
 the two, but as it was more gentle, in order 
 to secure him from the wolfs attack, he had 
 a collar put round his neck. In the third year, 
 the quarrels of these ill-paired associates 
 were more vehement, and their combats more 
 frequent ; the wolf, therefore, had a collar put 
 about its neck, as well as the dog, who began 
 to be more fierce and unmerciful. During 
 the two first years, neither seemed to testify 
 the least tendency towards engendering; and 
 it was not till the end of the third, that the 
 wolf, which was the female, showed the na- 
 tural desire, but without abating either in its 
 fierceness or obstinacy. This appetite rather 
 increased than repressed their mutual ani- 
 mosity; they became every day more untract- 
 able and ferocious, and nothing was heard 
 between them but the sounds of rage and re- 
 sentment. They both,inlessthanthreeweeks, 
 became remarkably lean, without ever ap- 
 proaching each other, but to combat. At 
 length, their quarrels became so desperate, 
 that the dog killed the wolf, who was become 
 more weak and feeble ; and he was soon af- 
 ter himself obliged to be killed, for, upon being 
 set at liberty, he instantly flew upon every ani- 
 mal he met, fowls, dogs, and even men them- 
 selves not escaping his savage fury. 
 
 The same experiment was tried upon foxes, 
 taken young, but with no better success ; they 
 were never found to engender with dogs ; and 
 our learned naturalist seems to be of opinion 
 that their natures are too opposite ever to pro- 
 voke mutual desire. One thing, however, 
 must be remarked, that the animals on which 
 he tried his experiments, were rather too old 
 when taken, and had partly acquired their 
 natural savage appetites, before they came 
 into his possession. The wolf, as he acknow- 
 ledges, \vas two or three months old before it 
 was caught, and the foxes were taken in traps. 
 It may, therefore, be easily supposed, that no- 
 thing could ever after thoroughly tame those 
 creatures that had been suckled in the wild 
 
 state, and had caught all the habitudes of the 
 dam. I have seen these animals, when taken 
 earlier in the woods, become very tame; and, 
 indeed, they rather were displeasing by being 
 too familiar than too shy. It were to be wish- 
 ed that the experiment were tried upon such 
 as these; and it is more than probable that 
 it would produce the desired success. Never- 
 theless, these experiments are sufficient to 
 prove that neither the wolf nor the fox are of 
 the same nature with the dog, but each of a 
 species perfectly distinct, and their joint pro- 
 duce most probably unfruitful. 
 
 The dog, when first whelped, is not a com- 
 pletely finished animal. In this kind, as in 
 all the rest which bring forth many at a time, 
 the young are not so perfect as in those which 
 bring forth one or two. They are always pro- 
 duced with the eyes closed, the lidsbeing held 
 together, not by sticking, but by a kind of thin 
 membrane, which is torn as soon as the upper 
 eye-lid becomes strong enough to raise it from 
 the under. In general, their eyes are not 
 opened till ten or twelve days old. During 
 that time, the bones of the skull are not com- 
 pleted, the body is puffed up, the nose is short, 
 and the whole form but ill-sketched out. In 
 less than a month the puppy begins to use all 
 its senses ; and from thence makes hasty ad- 
 vances to its perfection. At the fourth month, 
 the dog loses some of his teeth, as in other 
 animals, and these are renewed by such as 
 never fall. The number of these amount to 
 forty-two, Avhich is twelve more than is found 
 in any of the cat kind, which are known never 
 to have above thirty. The teeth of the dog 
 being his great and only weapon, are formed 
 in a manner much more serviceable than those 
 of the former ; and there is scarce any quad- 
 ruped that has a greater facility in rending, 
 cutting, or chewing its food. He cuts with 
 his incisors, or fore-teeth, he holds with his 
 four great canine teeth, and he chews his meat 
 with his grinders ; these are fourteen in num- 
 ber, and so placed, that, when the jaws are 
 shut, there remains a distance between them, 
 so that the dog, by opening his mouth ever 
 so wide, does not lose the power of his jaws. 
 But it is otherwise in the cat kind, whose in- 
 cisors, or cutting-teeth, are very small, and 
 whose grinding-teeth when brought together, 
 touch more closely than tLose of the dog, and, 
 
THE DOG KIND. 
 
 317 
 
 consequently, have less power. Thus, for 
 instance, I can squeeze any thing more forci- 
 bly between my thumb and fore-finger, where 
 the distance is greater, than between any other 
 two fingers, whose distance from each other is 
 less. 
 
 This animal is capable of reproducing at the 
 age of twelve months," and goes nine weeks 
 with young, and lives to about the age of 
 twelve. Few quadrupeds are less delicate in 
 their food ; and yet there are many kinds of 
 birds which the dog will not venture to touch. 
 He is even known, although in a savage state, 
 to abstain from injuring some, which one 
 might suppose he had every reason to oppose. 
 The dogs and the vultures which live wild 
 about Grand Cairo in Egypt, (for the Maho- 
 metan law has expelled this useful animal from 
 human society,) continue together in a very 
 sociable and friendly manner." As they are 
 both useful in devouring such carcasses as 
 might otherwise putrefy, and thus infect the 
 air, the inhabitants supply them with provi- 
 sions every day, in order to keep them near 
 the city. Upon these occasions, the quadru- 
 peds and birds are often seen together, tearing 
 the same piece of flesh, without the least en- 
 mity ; on ihe contrary, they are known to live 
 together with a kind of affection, and bring up 
 their young in the same nest. 
 
 Although the dog is a voracious animal, yet 
 he can bear hunger for a very long time. We 
 have an instance, in the Memoirs of the Aca- 
 demy of Sciences, of this kind, in which a 
 bitch that had been forgotten in a country- 
 house, lived forty days, without any other 
 nourishment than the wool of a quilt which 
 she had torn in pieces. It should seem that 
 water is more necessary to the dog than food ; 
 he drinks often, though not abundantly ; and 
 it is commonly believed, that when abridged in 
 water, he runs mad. This dreadful malady, 
 thp consequences of which are so well known, 
 is the greatest inconvenience that results from 
 the keeping this faithful domestic. But it is a 
 
 a To this description I will beg leave to add a few parti- 
 culars from Linnicus, as I find them in the original. " Vo- 
 initua graitiiua purgatur ; cacat supra lapidem. Album 
 grtecum antisepticum summum. Mingit ad latus (this, 
 however, not till the animal is nine months old) cum 
 hospite sacpe centies. Odorat anum alterius. Procis 
 rixautibus orudelis. Menstruans coit cum variis. Mordet 
 ilia illos. Coliaret copula junctus." 
 
 '> Hasselquist Her. Paltestin. p. 232 
 
 disorder by no means so frequent as the terrors 
 of the timorous would suppose ; the dog has 
 been often accused of madness, without a fair 
 trial ; and some persons have been supposed to 
 receive their deaths from his bite, when either 
 their own ill-grounded fears, or their natural 
 disorders, were the true cause. 
 
 THE WOLF. 
 
 THE dog and the wolf are so very much 
 alike internally, that the most expert anato- 
 mists can scarce perceive the difference ; and 
 it may be asserted also, that, externally, some 
 dogs more nearly resemble the wolf than they 
 do each other. It was this strong similitude 
 that first led some naturalists to consider them 
 as the same animal, and to look upon the wolf 
 as the dog in its state of savage freedom : how- 
 ever, this opinion is entertained no longer; the 
 natural antipathy those two animals bear to 
 each other ; the longer time which the wolf 
 goes with young than the dog, the one going 
 over a hundred days, and the other not quite 
 sixty ; the longer period of life in the former 
 than the latter, the wolf living twenty years, 
 the dog not fifteen ; all sufficiently point out a 
 distinction, and draw a line that must for ever 
 keep them asunder. 
 
 The wolf, from the tip of the nose to the in- 
 sertion of the tail, is about three feet seven 
 inches long, and about two feet five inches 
 high ; which shows him to be larger than our 
 great breed of mastiffs, which are seldom found 
 to be above three feet by two. His colour is a 
 mixture of black, brown, and gray, extremely 
 rough and hard, but mixed towards the roots 
 with a kind of ash-coloured fur. In comparing 
 him to any of our well-known breed of dogs, 
 the great Dane or mongrel grayhound, for in- 
 stance, he will appear to have the legs shorter, 
 the head larger, the muzzle thicker, the eyes 
 smaller, and more separated from each other, 
 and the ears shorter and straighter. He ap- 
 pears in every respect stronger than the dog ; 
 and the length of his hair contributes still more 
 to his robust appearance. The feature which 
 principally distinguishes the visage of the wolf 
 from that of the dog is the eye, which opens 
 slantingly upwards in the same direction with 
 the nose ; whereas, in the dog, it opens ; more 
 at right angles with the nose, as in man. The 
 
 3D 
 
318 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 tail, also, in this animal, is long and bushy; and 
 he carries it rather more between his hind legs 
 than the clog is seen to do. The colour of the 
 eye-balls in the wolf are of a fiery green, and 
 give his visage a fierce and formidable air, 
 which his natural disposition does by no 
 means contradict.* 
 
 The wolf is one of those animals whose ap- 
 petite for animal food is the most vehement ; 
 and whose means of satisfying this appetite 
 are the most various. Nature has furnished 
 him with strength, cunning, agility, and all 
 those requisites which fit an animal for pursu- 
 ing, overtaking, and conquering its prey ; and 
 yet, with all these, the wolf most frequently 
 dies of hunger, for he is the declared enemy of 
 man. Being long proscribed, and a reward 
 offered for his head, he is obliged to fly from 
 human habitations, and to live in the forest, 
 where the few wild animals to be found there 
 escape him either by their swiftness or their 
 art ; or are supplied in too small a proportion 
 to satisfy his rapacity. He is naturally dull 
 and cowardly ; but frequently disappointed, 
 and, as often reduced to the verge of famine, he 
 becomes ingenious from want, and courageous 
 from necessity. When pressed with hunger, 
 he braves danger, and comes to attack those 
 animals which are under the protection of 
 man, particularly such as he can readily carry 
 away, lambs, sheep, or even dogs themselves, 
 for all animal food becomes then equally agree- 
 able. When this excursion has succeeded, he 
 often returns to the charge, until having been 
 wounded, or hard pressed by the dogs or the 
 shepherds, he hides himself by day in the 
 thickest coverts, and only ventures out at 
 night ; he then sallies forth over the country, 
 keeps peering round the villages, carries off 
 such animals as are not under protection, at- 
 tacks the sheepfolds, scratches up and under- 
 mines the thresholds of doors where they 
 are housed, enters furiously, and destroys all 
 before he begins to fix upon and carry off his 
 prey. When these sallies do not succeed, he 
 then returns to the thickest part of the forest, 
 content to pursue those smaller animals, which, 
 even when taken, afford him but a scanty 
 supply. He there goes regularly to work, 
 
 a The rest of this history of the wolf is taken from Mr. 
 Buffon ; and I look upon it as a complete model for na- 
 tural history. If I add or differ, I mark it as usual. 
 
 follows by the scent, opens to the view, still 
 keeps following, hopeless himself of overtaking 
 the prey, but expecting that some other wolf 
 will corne in to his assistance, and then con- 
 tent to share the spoil. At last, when his ne- 
 cessities are very urgent, he boldly faces cer- 
 tain destruction ; he attacks women and chil- 
 dren, and sometimes ventures even to fall upon 
 men, becomes furious by his continual agita- 
 tions, and ends his life in madness. 
 
 The wolf, as well externally as internally, 
 so nearly resembles the dog, that he seems 
 modelled upon the same plan ; and yet he only 
 offers the reverse of the model. If his form be 
 like, his nature is so different, that he only pre- 
 serves the ill qualities of the dog, without any 
 of his good ones. Indeed, they are so different 
 in their dispositions, that no two animals can 
 have a more perfect antipathy to each other. 
 A young dog shudders at the sight of a wolf; 
 he even shuns his scent, which, though un- 
 known, is so repugnant to his nature, that he 
 comes trembling to take protection near his 
 master. A dog who is stronger, and who 
 knows his strength, bristles up at the sight, 
 testifies his animosity, attacks him with cou- 
 rage, endeavours to put him to flight, and does 
 all in his power to rid himself of a presence 
 that is hateful to him. They never meet 
 without either flying or fighting ; fighting for 
 life and death, and without mercy on either 
 side. If the wolf is the stronger, he tears and 
 and devours his prey : the dog, on the contra- 
 ry, is more generous, and contents himself 
 with his victory ; he does not seem to think 
 that the body of a dead enemy smells ivell ; he 
 leaves him where he falls, to serve as food for 
 birds of prey, or for other wolves, since they 
 devour each other ; and when one wolf hap- 
 pens to be desperately wounded, the rest track 
 him by his blood, and are sure to show him 
 no mercy. 
 
 The dog, even in his savage state, is not 
 cruel ; he is easily tamed, and continues firmly 
 attached to his master. The wolf, when taken 
 young, becomes tame, but never has an at- 
 tachment : Nature is stronger in him than 
 education ; he resumes with age his natural 
 dispositions, and returns as soon as he can to 
 the woods from whence he was taken. Dogs, 
 even of the dullest kinds, seek the company of 
 other animals ; they are naturally disposed to 
 follow and accompany other creatures besides 
 
THE DOG KIND. 
 
 319 
 
 themselves ; and even by instinct, without any 
 education, take to the care of flocks and herds. 
 Tht" wolf, on the contrary, is the enemy of all 
 society ; he does not even keep much compa- 
 ny with those of his kind. When they are 
 seen in packs together, it is not to be consider- 
 ed as a peaceful society, but a combination for 
 war ; they testify their hostile intentions by 
 their loud howlings, and, by their fierceness, 
 discover a project for attacking some great ani- 
 mal, such as a stag or a bull, or to destroy 
 some more redoubtable watch-dog. The in- 
 stant their military expedition is completed, 
 their society is at an end ; they then part, and 
 each returns in silence to his solitary retreat. 
 There is not even any strong attachments be- 
 tween the male and female ; they seek each 
 other only once a year, and remain but a few 
 days together : they always couple in winter ; 
 at which time several males are seen following 
 one female, and this association is still more 
 bloody than the former : they dispute most 
 cruelly, growl, bark, fight, and tear each other; 
 and it sometimes happens that the majori- 
 ty kill the wolf, which has been chiefly prefer- 
 red by the female. It is usual for the she wolf 
 to fly from them all with him she has chosen ; 
 and watches this opportunity when the rest 
 are asleep. 
 
 The season for coupling does not continue 
 above twelve or fifteen days; and usually com- 
 mences among the oldest, those which are 
 young being late.r in their desires. The males 
 have no fixed time for engendering, they pass 
 from one female to the other, beginning at the 
 end of December, and ending at the latter end 
 of February. The time of pregnancy is about 
 three months and a half; and the young 
 wolves are found from the latter end of April to 
 the beginning of July. The long continuance 
 of the wolf's pregnancy is sufficient to make a 
 distinction between it and the dog, did not al- 
 so the fiery fierceness of the eyes, the howl in- 
 stead of barking, and the greater duration of 
 its life, leave no doubt of its being an animal of 
 its own particular species. In other respects, 
 however, they are entirely alike; the wolf 
 couples exactly like the dog, the parts are form- 
 ed in the same manner, and their separation 
 hindered by the same cause. When the she 
 wolves are near their time of bringing forth, 
 they seek some very tufted spot, in the thickest 
 part of the forests ; in the middle of this they 
 
 make a small opening, cutting away the thorns 
 and briars with their teeth, and afterwards car- 
 ry thither a great quantity of moss, which they 
 form into a bed for their young ones. They 
 generally bring forth five or six, and some- 
 times even to nine at a litter. The cubs are 
 brought forth, like those of the bitch, with the 
 eyes closed; the dam suckles them for some 
 weeks, and teaches them betimes to eat flesh, 
 which she prepares for them, by chewing it 
 first herself. Some time after she brings them 
 stronger food, hares, partridges, and birds yet 
 alive. The young wolves begin by playing 
 with them, and end by killing them. The dam 
 then strips them of their feathers, tears them in 
 pieces, and gives to each of them a share. 
 They do not leave the den where they have 
 been littered, till they are six weeks, or two 
 months old. They then follow the old one, 
 who leads them to drink to the trunk of some 
 old tree, where the water has settled, or at 
 some pool in the neighbourhood. If she ap- 
 prehends any danger, she instantly conceals 
 them in the first convenient place, or brings 
 them back to their former retreat. In this 
 manner they follow her for some months ; when 
 they are attacked, she defends them with all 
 her strength, and more than usual ferocity. 
 Although, at other times, more timorous than 
 the male, at that season she becomes bold and 
 fearless ; willing perhaps to teach the young 
 ones future courage by her own example. It 
 is not till they are about ten or twelve months 
 old, and until they have shed their first teeth, 
 and completed the new, that she thinks them 
 in a capacity to shift for themselves. Then 
 when they have acquired arms from nature, 
 and have learned industry and courage from 
 her example, she declines all future care of 
 them, being again engaged in bringing up a 
 new progeny. 
 
 The males and females are in a capacity to 
 engender when two years old. It is probable 
 that the females of this species, as well as of 
 most others, are sooner completed than the 
 males ; but this is certain, that they never de- 
 sire to copulate until their second winter ; from 
 whence we may suppose that they live fifteen 
 or twenty years ; for allowing three years for 
 their complete growth, this multiplied by se- 
 ven, gives them a life of twenty-one ; most ani- 
 mals, as has been observed, living about seven 
 times the number of years which they take 
 
320 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 to come to perfection. Of this, however, 
 there is as yet no certainty, no more than of 
 what huntsmen assert, that in all the litters 
 there are more males than females. From 
 them also we learn, that there are some of 
 the males who attach themselves to the fe- 
 male, who accompany her during her gesta- 
 tion, until the time of bringing forth, when she 
 hides the place of her retreat from the male, 
 lest he should devour her cubs. But after 
 this, when they are brought forth, that he then 
 takes the same care of them as the female, 
 carries them provisions, and, if the dam should 
 happen to be killed, rears them up in her stead. 
 
 The wolf grows gray as he grows old, and 
 his teeth wear, like those of most other ani- 
 mals, by using. He sleeps when his belly is 
 full, or when he is fatigued, rather by day than 
 night; and always, like the dog, is very ea- 
 sily waked. He drinks frequently; and in 
 times of drought, when there is no water to 
 be found in the trunks of old trees, or in the 
 pools about the forest, he comes often, in the 
 day, down to the brooks, or the lakes in the 
 plain. Although very voracious, he supports 
 hunger for a long time, and often lives four or 
 five days without food, provided he be supplied 
 with water. 
 
 The wolf has great strength, particularly in 
 his fore parts, in the muscles of his neck and 
 jaws. He carries off a sheep in his mouth 
 without letting it touch the ground, and runs 
 with it much swifter than the shepherds who 
 pursue him; so that nothing but the dogs can 
 overtake, and oblige him to quit his prey. 
 He bites cruelly, and always with greater ve- 
 hemence in proportion as he is least resisted; 
 for he uses precautions with such animals as 
 attempt to stand upon the defensive. He is 
 ever cowardly, and never fights but when un- 
 der a necessity of satisfying hunger, or making 
 good his retreat. When he is wounded by a 
 bullet, he is heard to cry out ; and yet, when 
 surrounded by the peasants, and attacked 
 with clubs, he never howls as the dog under 
 correction, but defends himself in silence, and 
 dies as hard as he lived. 
 
 His nature is, in fact, more savage than that 
 of the dog ; he has less sensibility and greater 
 strength. He travels, runs, and keeps plun- 
 dering for whole days and nights together. 
 He is in a manner indefatigable; and perhaps 
 
 of all animals he is the most difficult to be' 
 hunted down. The dog is good natured and 
 courageous ; the wolf, though savage, is ever 
 fearful. If he happens to be caught in a pit-' 
 fall, he is for some time so frightened and as- 
 tonished, that he may be killed without offer- 
 ing to resist, or taken alive without much dan- 
 ger. At that instant, one may clap a collar 
 round his neck, muzzle him, and drag him 1 
 along, without his ever giving the least signs 
 of anger or resentment. At all other times 
 he has his senses in great perfection ; his eye, 
 his ear, and particularly his sense of smelling, 
 which is even superior to the two former. He 
 smells a carcass at more than a league's dis- 
 tance; he also perceives living animals a great 
 way off, and follows them a long time upon 
 the scent. Whenever he leaves the wood, 
 he always takes care to go out against the 
 wind. When just come to its extremity, he 
 stops to examine, by his smell, on all sides, 
 the emanations that may come either from his 
 enemy or his prey, which he very nicely dis- 
 tinguishes. He prefers those animals which 
 he kills himself to those he finds dead ; and 
 yet he does not disdain these when no better 
 is to be had. He is particularly fond of hu- 
 man flesh ; and perhaps, if he was sufficiently 
 powerful, he would eat no other. Wolves 
 have been seen following armies, and arriving 
 in numbers upon the field of battle, where 
 they devoured such dead bodies as were left 
 upon the field, or but negligently interred. 
 These, when once accustomed to human flesh, 
 ever afterseek particularly toattack mankind, 
 and choose to fall upon the shepherd rather 
 than his flock. We have had a late instance 
 of two or three of these keeping a whole pro- 
 vince, for more than a month, in a continual 
 alarm. 
 
 It sometimes happens that a whole country 
 is called out to extirpate these most danger- 
 ous invaders. The hunting the wolf is a fa- 
 vourite diversion among the great of some 
 countries ; and it must be confessed it seems 
 to be the most useful of any. These animals 
 are distinguished by the huntsmen into the 
 young wolf, the old wolf, and the great wolf. 
 They are known by the prints of their feet ; 
 the older the wolf, the larger the track he 
 leaves. That of the female is narrower and 
 longer than those of the male. It is necessary 
 
THE DOG KIND. 
 
 321 
 
 to have a very good starter to put up the 
 wolf; and it is even convenient to use every 
 art to encourage him in his pursuit; for all 
 dogs have a natural repugnance against this 
 animal, and are but cold in their endeavours. 
 When the wolf is once put up, it is then prp- 
 'per to have grayhounds to let fly at him, in 
 leashes, one after the other. The first leash 
 is sent after him in the beginning, seconded 
 by a man on horseback ; the second are let 
 loose about half a mile farther, and the third 
 wh n the rest of the dogs come up with, and j 
 begin to bait him. He for a long time keeps 
 them off, stands his ground, threatens them 
 on all sides, and often gets away ; but usually 
 the hunters arriving, come in aid of the dogs, 
 and help to despatch him with their cutlass- 
 es. When the animal is killed, the dogs tes- 
 tify no appetite to enjoy their victory, but 
 leave him where he falls, a frightful specta- 
 cle, and even in death hideous. 
 
 The wolf is sometimes also hunted with 
 harriers ; but as he always goes straight for- 
 ward, and often holds his speed for a. whole 
 day together, this kind of chase is tedious 
 and disagreeable, at least if the harriers are 
 not assisted by grayhounds, who may harass 
 him at every view. Several other arts have 
 been also used to take and destroy this nox- 
 ious animal. He is surrounded and wounded 
 by men and large house-dogs; he is secured 
 in traps ; he is poisoned by carcasses, pre- 
 pared and placed for that purpose, arid is 
 caught in pit-falls. " Gesner tell us of a friar, 
 a woman, and a wolf, being taken in one of 
 these, all in the same night. The woman lost 
 her senses with the fright, the friar his repu- 
 tation, and the wolf his life." All these dis- 
 asters, however, do not prevent this animal's 
 multiplying in great numbers, particularly 
 in countries where the woods are plenty. 
 France, Spain, and Italy, are greatly infested 
 with them ; but England, Ireland, and Scot- 
 land, are happily set free. 
 
 King Edgar is said to be the first who at- 
 tempted to rid this kingdom of such disa- 
 greeable inmates, by commuting the punish- 
 ment of certain crimes into the acceptance 
 of a number of wolves' tongues for each cri- 
 minal. 8 However, some centuries after, these 
 
 * British Zoology, p. 62. 
 
 animals were again increased to such a de- 
 gree, as to become the object of royal atten- 
 tion ; accordingly Edward the First issued 
 out his mandate to one Peter Corbet to su- 
 perintend and assist in the destruction of 
 them. They are said to have infested Ire- 
 land long after they were extirpated in Eng- 
 land ; however, the oldest men in that coun- 
 try remember nothing of these animals ; and 
 it is probable that there have been none 
 there for more than a century past. Scot- 
 land also is totally free. 
 
 The colour of this animal differs according 
 to the different climates where it is bred, and 
 often changes even in the same country. Be- 
 side the common wolves, which are found in 
 France and Germany, there are others with 
 thicker hair, inclining to yellow. These are 
 more savage and less noxious than the for- 
 mer, neither approaching the flocks nor ha- 
 bitations, and living rather by the chase than 
 rapine. In the northern climates there are 
 found some quite black, and some white all 
 over. The former are larger and stronger 
 than those of any other kinds. 
 
 The species is very much diffused in every 
 part of the world, being found in Asia, Africa, 
 and in America, as well as Europe. The 
 wolves of Senegal resemble those of France, 
 except that they are larger and much fiercer 
 than those of Europe. Those of Egypt are 
 smaller than those of Greece. In the east, 
 the wolf is trained up for a show, being 
 taught to dance and play tricks ; and one of 
 these thus educated often sells for four or 
 five hundred crowns. " It is said that in Lap- 
 land the wolf will never attack a rein-deer 
 that is seen haltered ; for this wary animal, 
 being well acquainted with the nature of a 
 trap, suspects one whenever it perceives a 
 rope. However, when he sees the deer en- 
 tirely at liberty, he seldom fails to destroy it. 
 " The wolf of North America is blacker 
 and much less than those in other parts of 
 the world, and approaches nearer in form to 
 the dog than those of the ordinary kind. b In 
 fact, they were made use of as such by the 
 savages till the Europeans introduced others; 
 and even now, on the remoter shores, or the 
 more inland parts of the country, the sa- 
 fe Brooke's Natural History, vol. i. p. 198. 
 
322 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 vages'still make use of these animals in hunt- 
 ing. They are very tame and gentle ; and 
 those of this kind that are wild, are neither so 
 large nor so fierce as an European wolf, nor 
 do they ever attack mankind. They go to- 
 gether in large packs by night to hunt the 
 deer, which they do as well as any dogs in 
 England ; and it is confidently asserted that 
 one of them is sufficient to run down a deer.* 
 Whenever they are seen along the banks of 
 those rivers near which the wandering na- 
 tives pitch their huts, it is taken for granted 
 that the bison or the deer are not far off: and 
 the savages affirm that the wolves come with 
 the tidings, in order to have the garbage, 
 after the animal has been killed by the hun- 
 ters. Catesby adds a circumstance relative 
 to these animals, which, if true, invalidates 
 many of Mr. Button's observations in the fore- 
 going history. He asserts, that these being 
 the only dogs used by the Americans, before 
 the arrival of .he Europeans among them, 
 they have since engendered together, and 
 that their breed has become prolific ; which 
 proves the dog and the wolf to be of the same 
 species. It were to be wished that this fact 
 were better ascertained ; we should then 
 know to a certainty in what degree the dog 
 and wolf resemble each other, as Avell in na- 
 ture as in conformation ; we might then, per- 
 haps, be enabled to improve the breed of our 
 dogs, by bringing them back to their native 
 forms and instincts ; we might, by crossing 
 the strain, restore that race of those bold 
 animals, which the ancients assure us were 
 more than a match for the lion." 
 
 However this animal may be useful in 
 North America, the wolf of Europe is a very 
 noxious animal, and scarce any thing belong- 
 ing to him is good, except his skin. Of this 
 the furriers make a covering that is warm and 
 durable, though coarse and unsightly. His 
 flesh is very indifferent, and seems to be dis- 
 liked by all other animals, no other creature 
 being known to eat wolf's flesh except the 
 wolf himself. He breathes a most fetid va- 
 pour from his jaws, as his food is indiscrimi- 
 nate, often putrid, and seldom cleanly. In 
 short, every way offensive, a savage aspect, 
 a frightful howl, an unsupportable odour, a 
 
 Dictionaire Raisonee. Loup. 
 
 perverse disposition, fierce habits, he is hate 
 ful when living, and useless when dead. 
 
 THE FOX. 
 
 THE Fox very exactly resembles the wolf 
 and the dog internally ; and although he dif- 
 fers greatly from both in size and carriage, 
 yet when we come to examine his shapes mi- 
 nutely, there will appear to be very little dif- 
 ference in the description. Were, for in- 
 stance, a painter to draw from a natural his- 
 torian's exactest description the figure of a 
 dog, a wolf, and a fox, without having ever 
 seen either, he would be very apt to con- 
 found all these animals together; or rather 
 he would be unable to catch those peculiar 
 outlines that no description can supply. 
 Words will never give any "person an exact 
 idea of forms any way irregular ; for although 
 they be extremely just and precise, yet the 
 numberless discriminations to be attended to 
 will cqnfound each other, and we shall no 
 more conceive the precise form, than we 
 should be able to tell when one pebble more 
 was added or taken away from a thousand. 
 To conceive, therefore, how the fox differs 
 in form from the wolf or the dog, it is neces- 
 sary to see all three, or at least to supply the 
 defects of description by examining the dif- 
 ference in a print. 
 
 The fox is of a slenderer make than the 
 wolf, and not near so large ; for as the former 
 is above three feet and a half long, so the 
 other i? not above two feet three inches. 
 The tail of the fox also is longer in propor- 
 tion and more bushy ; its nose is smaller and 
 approaching more nearly to that of the gray- 
 hound, and its hair softer. On the other 
 hand, it differs from the dog in having its eyes 
 obliquely situated, like those of the wolf; its 
 ears are directed also in the same manner as 
 those of the wolf, and its head is equally large 
 in proportion to its size. It differs still more 
 from the dog in its strong offensive smell, 
 which is peculiar to the species, and often 
 the cause of their death. However, some are 
 ignorantly of opinion that it will keep off' in- 
 fectious diseases, and they preserve this ani- 
 mal near their habitations for that very pur- 
 pose. 
 
THE DOG KIND. 
 
 323 
 
 The fox has since the beginning been fa- 
 mous for his cunning and his arts, and he part- 
 ly merits his reputation." Without attempt- 
 ing to oppose either the dogs or the shep- 
 herds, without attacking the Hock, or alarm- 
 ing the village, he finds an easier way to sub- 
 sist, and gains by his address what is denied 
 to his strength or courage. Patient and pru- 
 dent, he waits the opportunity of depredation, 
 and varies his conduct with every occasion. 
 His whole study is his preservation ; although 
 nearly as indefatigable, and actually more 
 swift than the wolf, he does not entirely trust 
 to either, but makes himself an asylum, to 
 which he retires in case of necessity; where 
 he shelters himself from danger, and brings 
 up his young. 
 
 As among men, those who lead a domestic 
 life are more civilized and more endued with 
 wisdom than those who wander from place to 
 place ; so, in the inferior ranks of animated 
 nature, the taking possession of a home sup- 
 poses a degree of instinct which others are 
 without. 11 The choice of the situation for this 
 domic.il, the art of making it convenient, of 
 hiding its entrance, and securing it against 
 more powerful animals, are all so many marks 
 of superior skill and industry. The fox is fur- 
 nished with both, and turns them to his ad- 
 vantage. He generally keeps his kennel at 
 the edge of (he wood, and yet within an easy 
 journey of soine neighbouring cottage. From 
 thence he listens to the crowing of the cock, 
 and the cackling of the domestic fowls. He 
 scents them at a distance ; he seizes his op- 
 portunity, conceals his approaches, creeps 
 slily along, makes the attack, and seldom re- 
 turns without his booty. If he be able to get 
 into the yard, he begins by levelling all the 
 poultry without remorse, and carrying off a 
 part of the spoil, hides it at some convenient 
 distance, and again returns to the charge. 
 Taking off another fowl in the same manner, 
 he hides that also, but not in the same place ; 
 and this he practises for several times together, 
 until the approach of day, or the noise of the 
 domestics, give him warning to retire. The 
 same arts are practised when he finds birds 
 entangled in springes laid for them by the 
 fowler; the fox takes care to be beforehand, 
 
 Buflbn, Renard. 
 NO. 27&2S. 
 
 Ibid. 
 
 very expertly takes the bird out of the snare, 
 hides it for three or four days, and knows very 
 exactly when and where to return to avail 
 himself of the hidden treasure. He is equal- 
 ly alert in seizing the young hares and rab- 
 bits before they have strength enough to es- 
 cape him, and when the old ones are wound- 
 ed and fatigued, he is sure to come upon them 
 in their moments of distress, and to show them 
 no mercy. In the same manner he finds out 
 birds' nests, seizes the partridge and the quail 
 while sitting, and destroys a large quantity of 
 game. The wolf is most hurtful to the pea- 
 sant, but the fox to the gentleman. In short, 
 nothing that can be eaten seems to come 
 amiss; rats, mice, serpents, toads, and lizards. 
 He will, when urged by hunger, eat vegeta- 
 bles and insects ; and those that live near the 
 sea-coasts will, for want of other food, eat 
 crabs, shrimps, and shell-fish. The hedge- 
 hog in vain rolls itself up into a ball to op- 
 pose him, this determined glutton teases it 
 until it is obliged to appear uncovered, and 
 then he devours it The wasp and the wild 
 bee are attacked with equal -success. Al- 
 though at first they fly out upon the invader, 
 and actually oblige him to retire, this is but 
 for a few minutes, until he has rolled himself 
 upon the ground, and thus crushed such as 
 stick to his skin; he then returns lo the charge, 
 and at last, by perseverance, obliges them to 
 abandon their combs; which he greedily de- 
 vours, both wax and honey. 
 
 The chase o r the fox requires less prepa- 
 ration than that of the wolf, and it is also 
 more pleasant and amusing. As dogs have 
 a natuial repugnance to pursue the wolf, so 
 they are equally alert in following the fox; 
 which they prefer even to the chase of the 
 hare or the buck. The huntsmen, as upon 
 other occasions, have their cant terms for 
 every part of this chase. The fox the first 
 year is called a cub; the second, a fox ; and 
 the third an old fox; his tail is called the 
 brush or drag, and his excrement the billiting. 
 He is usually pursued by a large kind of har- 
 rier or hound, assisted by terriers, or a smal- 
 ler breed, that follow him into his kennel, and 
 attack him there. The instant he perceives 
 himself pursued, he makes to his kennel, and 
 takes refuge at the bottom of it, where for a 
 while he loses the cry of his enemies ; but 
 
 3E 
 
324 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 the whole pack coming to the mouth, redou- 
 ble their vehemence and rage, and the little 
 terrier boldly ventures in. It often happens 
 that the kennel is made under a rock, or 
 among the roots of old trees : and in such ca- 
 ses the fox cannot be dug out, nor is the ter- 
 rier able to contend with him at the bottom 
 of his hole. By this contrivance he continues 
 secure; but when he can be dug out, the usu- 
 al way is to carry him in a bag to some open 
 country, and there set him loose before the 
 hounds. The hounds and the men follow, 
 barking and shouting wherever he runs ; and 
 the body being strongly employed, the mind 
 has not time to make any reflection on the fu- 
 tility of the pursuit. What adds to this enter- 
 tainment is the strong scent wh'ich the fox 
 leaves, that always keeps up a full cry ; al- 
 though as his scent is stronger than that of 
 the hare, it is much sooner evaporated. His 
 shifts to escape when all retreat is cut off to 
 his kennel, are various and surprising. He 
 always chooses the most woody country, and 
 takes those paths that are most embarrassed 
 with thorns and briars. He does not double, 
 nor use the unavailing shifts of the hare ; but 
 flies in a direct line before the hounds, though 
 at no very great distance; manages his 
 strength; takes to the low and plashy grounds, 
 where the scent will be less apt to lie ; and 
 at last, when overtaken, he defends himself 
 with desperate obstinacy, and tights in silence 
 to the very last gasp. 
 
 The fox, though resembling the dog in many 
 respects, is nevertheless very distinct in his 
 nature, refusing to engender with it; and 
 though not testifying the antipathy of the wolf, 
 yet discovering nothing more than indiffer- 
 ence. This animal also brings forth fewer 
 at a time than the dog, and that but once a 
 year. Its litter is generally from four to six, 
 and seldom less than three. The female goes 
 with young about six weeks, and seldom stirs 
 out while pregnant, but makes a bed for her 
 young, arid takes every precaution to prepare 
 for their production. When she finds the 
 place of their retreat discovered, and that her 
 young have been disturbed during her ab- 
 sence, she removes them one after the other 
 in her mouth, and endeavours to find them 
 out a place of better security. A remarka- 
 ble instance of this animal's parental affection 
 
 happened while I was writing this history in 
 the county of Essex. A she-fox that had, as 
 it should seem, but one cub, was unkennelled 
 by a gentleman's hounds near Chelmsfbrd, and 
 hotly pursued. In such a case, when her own 
 life was in imminent peril, one would think 
 it was not a time to consult the safety of her 
 young; however, the poor animal, braving 
 every danger, rather than leave her cub be- 
 hind to be worried by the dogs, took it up in 
 her mouth, and ran with it in this manner for 
 some miles. At last, taking her way through 
 a farmer's yard, she was assaulted by a mas- 
 tiff, and at last obliged to drop her cub, which 
 was taken up by the fanner. I was not dis- 
 pleased to hear that this faithful creature es- 
 caped the pursuit, and at last got off in safe- 
 ty. The cubs of the fox are born blind, like 
 those of the dog; they are eighteen months or 
 two years in coming to perfection, and live 
 about twelve or fourteen years. 
 
 As the fox makes war upon all animals, so 
 all others seem to make war upon him. The 
 dog hunts him with peculiar acrimony ; the 
 wolf is still a greater and more necessitous 
 enemy, who pursues him to his very retreat. 
 Some pretend to say, that, to keep the wolf 
 away, the fox lays at the mouth of its kennel 
 a certain herb, to which the wolf has a par- 
 ticular aversion. This, which no doubt is a 
 fable, at least shows that tliese two animals 
 are as much enemies to each other as to all 
 the rest of Animated Nature. But the fox is 
 not hunted by quadrupedsalone; for the birds, 
 who know him for their mortal enemy, attend 
 him in his excursions, and give each other 
 warning of their approaching danger. The 
 daw, the magpie, and the blackbird conduct 
 him along, perching on the hedges as he creeps 
 below, and, with their cries and notes of hos- 
 tility, apprize all other animals to beware ; 
 a caution which they perfectly understand, 
 and put into practice. The hunters themselves 
 are often informed by the birds of the place 
 of his retreat, and set the dogs into those thick- 
 ets where they see them particularly noisy and 
 querulous. So that it is the fate of this pret- 
 ty plunderer to be detested by every rank ot 
 animals ; all the weaker classes shun, and all 
 the stronger pursue him. 
 
 The fox, of all wild animals, is most subject 
 to the influence of climate; and there are found 
 
THE DOG KIND. 
 
 325 
 
 as many varieties in this kind almost as in any 
 of the domestic animals/ The generality of 
 foxes, as is well known, are red ; but there are 
 some, though not in England, of a grayish 
 cast ; and Mr. Buffon asserts, that the tip of 
 the tail in all foxes is white ; which, however, 
 is not so in those of this country. There are 
 only three varieties of this animal in Great 
 Britain, and these are rather established upon 
 a difference of size than of colour or form. 
 The grayhound fox is the largest, tallest, and 
 boldest ; and will attack a grown sheep The 
 mastiff fox is less, but more strongly built. The 
 cur fox is the least and most common ; he 
 lurks about hedges and out-houses, and is the 
 most pernicious of the three to the peasant and 
 the farmer. 
 
 In the colder countries round the pole, the 
 foxes are of all colours ; black, blue, gray, iron 
 gray, silver gray, white, white with red legs, 
 white with black heads, white with the tip of 
 the tail black, red with the throat and belly 
 entirely white, and lastly, with a stripe of black 
 running along the back, and another crossing 
 it at the shoulders. b The common kind, how- 
 ever, is more universally diffused than any of 
 the former, being found in Europe, in the tem- 
 perate climates of Asia, and also in America ; 
 they are very rare in Africa, and in the coun- 
 tries lying under the torrid zone. Those tra- 
 vellers who talk of having seen them at Cali- 
 cut, and other parts of southern India, have 
 mistaken the jackal for the fox. The fur of 
 the white fox is held in no great estimation, 
 because the hair falls off. The blue fox skins 
 are bought up with great avidity, from their 
 scarceness ; but the black fox skin is of all 
 others the most esteemed, a single skin often 
 selling for forty or fifty crowns. The hair of 
 these is so disposed, that it is impossible to tell 
 which way the grain lies ; for if we hold the 
 skin by the head, the hair hangs to the tail ; 
 and if we hold it by the tail, it hangs do\vn 
 equally smooth and even to the head. These 
 are often made into men's muffs, and are at 
 once very beautiful and warm. In our tem- 
 perate climate, however, furs are of very little 
 service, there being scarce any weather so se- 
 vere in England from which our ordinary 
 clothes may not very well defend us. 
 
 Buffon. Renard. 
 b Ibid. 
 
 THE JACKAL. 
 
 THE jackal is one of the most common wild 
 animals in the East ; and yet there is scarce' 
 any less known in Europe, or more confused- 
 ly described by natural historians. In gene- 
 ral, we are assured that it resembles the ibx in 
 figure and disposition, but we are still ignorant 
 of those nice distinctions by which it is known 
 to be of a different species. It is said to be of 
 the size of a middling dog, resembling the fox 
 in the hinder parts, particularly the tail ; and 
 the wolf in the foreparts, especially the nose. 
 Its legs are shorter than those of the fox, and 
 its colour is of a bright yellow, or sorrel, as we 
 express it in horses. This is the reason it has 
 been called in Latin the golden wolf; a name, 
 however, which is entirely unknown in the 
 countries where they are most common. 
 
 The species of the jackal is diffused all over 
 Asia, and is found also in most parts of Africa, 
 seeming to take up the place of the wolf, which 
 in those countries is not so common. There 
 seem to be many varieties among them ; those 
 of the Warmest climates appear to be the 
 largest, and their colour is rather of a reddish 
 brown, than of that beautiful yellow by which 
 the smallerjackals are chiefly distinguished. 
 
 Although the species of the wolf approaches 
 very near to that of the dog, yet the jackal 
 seems to be placed between them ; to the sa- 
 vage fierceness of the wolf, it adds the impu- 
 dent familiarity of the dog. c Its cry is a howl, 
 mixed with barking, and a lamentation resem- 
 bling that of human distress. It is more noisy 
 in its pursuits even than the dog, and more 
 voracious than the wolf. The jackal never 
 goes alone, but always in a pack of forty or 
 fifty together. These unite regularly every day 
 to form a combination against the rest of the 
 forest. Nothing then can escape them ; they 
 are content to take up with the smallest ani- 
 mals ; and yet, when thus united, they have, 
 courage to face the largest. They seem very 
 little afraid of mankind, but pursue their game 
 to the very doors, without testifying either at- 
 tachment or apprehension. They enter inso- 
 lently into the sheep folds, the yards, and the 
 stables, and, when they can find nothing else, 
 devour the leather harness, boots, and shoes, 
 
 c Buffon, vol. xxvii. p. 52. 
 
 3 E* 
 
326 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 and run off with what they had not time to 
 swallow. 
 
 They not only attack the living but the dead. 
 They scratch up with their feet the new-made 
 graves, and devour the corpse how putrid soe- 
 ver. In those countries, therefore, where they 
 abound, they are obliged to beat the earth over 
 the grave, and mix it with thorns, to prevent 
 the jackals from scraping it away. They al- 
 ways assist each other, as well in this employ- 
 ment of exumation, as in that of the chase. 
 While they are at this dreary work, they ex- 
 hort each other by a most mournful cry, re- 
 sembling that of children under chastisement ; 
 and when they have thus dug up the body, 
 they share it amicably between them. These, 
 like all other savage animals, when they have 
 once tasted of human flesh, can never after re- 
 frain from pursuing mankind. They watch 
 the burying-grounds, follow armies, and keep 
 in the rear of caravans. They may be consi- 
 dered as the vulture of the quadruped kind ; 
 every thing that once had animal life, seems 
 equally agreeable to them ; the most putrid 
 substances are greedily devoured ; dried lea- 
 ther, and any thing that has been rubbed with 
 grease, how insipid soever in itself, is sufficient 
 to make the whole go down. 
 
 They hide themselves in holes by day, and 
 seldom appear abroad till night-fall, when the 
 jackal that has first hit upon the scent of some 
 large beast gives notice to the rest by a howl, 
 which it repeats as it runs ; while all the rest 
 that are within hearing, pack in to its assist- 
 ance. The gazelle, or whatever other beast 
 it may be, finding itself pursued, makes off 
 towards the houses and the towns ; hoping, by 
 that means, to deter its pursuers from follow- 
 ing : but hunger gives the jackal the same de- 
 gree of boldness that fear gives the gazelle, 
 and it pursues even to the verge of the city, 
 and often along the streets. The gazelle, how- 
 ever, by this means, most frequently escapes ; 
 for the inhabitants sallying out, often disturb 
 the jackal in the chase ; and as it hunts by the 
 scent, when once driven off, it never recovers 
 it again. In this manner we see how expe- 
 rience prompts the gazelle, which is naturally 
 a very timid animal, and particularly fearful 
 of man, to take refuge near him, considering 
 him as the least dangerous enemy, and often 
 escaping by his assistance. 
 
 But man is not the only intruder upon the 
 
 jackal's industry and pursuits. The lion, the 
 tiger, and the panther, whose appetites are su- 
 perior to their swiftness, attend to its call, and 
 follow in silence at some distance behind/ 
 The jackal pursues the whole night with un- 
 ceasing assiduity, keeping up the cry, and with 
 great perseverance at last tires down its prey ; 
 but just at the moment it supposes itself going 
 to share the fruits of its labour, the lion or the 
 leopard comes in, satiates himself upon the 
 spoil, and his poor provider must be content 
 with the bare carcass he leaves behind. It is 
 not to be wondered at, therefore, if the jackal 
 be voracious, since it so seldom has a sufficien- 
 cy ; nor that it feeds on putrid substances, 
 since it is not permitted to feast on what it has 
 newly killed. Besides these enemies, the jack- 
 al has another to cope with, for betw een him 
 and the dog there is an irreconcileable antipa- 
 thy ; and they never part without an engage- 
 ment. The Indian peasants often chase them 
 as we do foxes ; and have learned, by expe- 
 rience, when they have got a lion or a tiger in 
 their rear. Upon such occasions they keep 
 their dogs close, as they would be no match 
 for such formidable animals, and endeavour to 
 put them to flight with their cries. When the 
 lion is dismissed, they more easily cope with the 
 jackal, who is as stupid as it is impudent, and 
 seems much better fitted for pursuing than re- 
 treating. It sometimes happens that one of 
 them steals silently into an out-house to seize 
 the poultry, or devour the furniture, but hear- 
 ing others in full cry at a distance, without 
 thought, it instantly answers the call, and thus 
 betrays its own depredations. The peasants 
 sally out upon it, and the foolish animal finds, 
 too late, that its instinct was too powerful for 
 its safety. 
 
 THE ISATIS. 
 
 As the jackal is a sort of intermediate spe- 
 cies between the dog and the wolf, b so the isa- 
 tis may be considered as placed between the 
 dog and the fox. This animal has hitherto 
 been supposed to be only a variety of the lat- 
 ter ; but from the latest observations, there is 
 no doubt of their being perfectly distinct. The 
 
 Linnsei Systema, p. 60. 
 
 t> In this description I have followed Mr. Buffoo. 
 
THE DOG KIND. 
 
 327 
 
 isatis is very common in all the northern coun- 
 tries bordering upon the Icy Sea ; and is sel- 
 dom found, except in the coldest countries. It 
 extremely resembles the fox, in the form of its 
 body, and the length of its tail ; and a dog, in 
 the make of its head, and the position of its 
 eyes. The hair of these animals is softer than 
 that of a common fox; some are blue, some 
 are white at one season, and at another of a 
 russet brown. Although the whole of its hair 
 be two inches long, thick, tufted, and glossy, 
 yet the under jaw is entirely without any, and 
 the skin appears bare in that part. 
 
 This animal can bear only the coldest cli- 
 mates, and is chiefly seen along the coasts of 
 the Icy Sea, and upon the banks of the great 
 rivers that discharge themselves therein. It is 
 chiefly fond of living in the open country, and 
 seldom seen in the forest, being mostly found 
 in the mountainous and naked regions of Nor- 
 way, Siberia, and Lapland. It burrows like 
 the fox ; and, when with young, the female 
 retires to her kennel, in the same manner as 
 the fox is seen to do. These holes, which are 
 very narrow, and extremely deep, have many 
 outlets. They are kept very clean, and are 
 bedded at the bottom with moss, for the ani- 
 mal to be more at its ease. Its manner of coup- 
 ling, time of gestation, and number of young, 
 are all similar to what is found in the fox; and 
 it usually brings forth at the end of May or the 
 beginning of June. 
 
 Such are the particulars in which this ani- 
 mal differs from those of the dog kind, and in 
 which it resembles them : but its most striking 
 peculiarity remains still to be mentioned ; 
 namely, its changing its colour, and being seen 
 at one time brown, and at another perfectly 
 white. As was already said, some are natu- 
 rally blue, and their colour never changes ; 
 but such as are to be white, are, when brought 
 forth, of a yellow hue, which, in the beginning 
 of September, is changed to white, all except 
 along the top of the back, along which runs a 
 stripe of brown, and another crossing it down 
 the shoulders, at which time, the animal is 
 called the crossed fox ; however, this brown 
 cross totally disappears before winter, and then 
 the creature is all over white, and its fur is two 
 inches long : this, about the beginning of May 
 begins to fall ; and the moulting is completed 
 about the middle of July, when the isatis be- 
 comes brown once more. The fur of this 
 
 animal is of no value, unless it be killed in 
 winter. 
 
 THE HYAENA. 
 
 THE hyaena is the last animal I shall men- 
 tion among those of the dog kind, which it, in 
 many respects, rrsembles, although too strong- 
 ly marked to be strictly reduced to any type. 
 The hyaena is nearly of the size of a wolf; and 
 has some similitude to that animal in the shape 
 of its head and body. The head, at first sight, 
 does not appear to differ, except that the ears 
 of the hyaena are longer, and more without 
 hair ; but, upon observing more closely, we 
 shall find the head broader, the nose flatter, 
 and not so pointed. The eyes are not placed 
 obliquely, but more like those of a dog. The 
 legs, particularly the hinder, are longer than 
 those either of the dog or the wolf, and diffe- 
 rent from all other quadrupeds, in having but 
 four toes, as well on the fore-feet as on the 
 hinder. Its hair is of a dirty grayish, marked 
 with black, disposed in waves down its body. 
 Its tail is short, with pretty long hair; and im- 
 mediately under it, above the anus, there is an 
 opening into a kind of glandular pouch, which 
 separates a substance of the consistence, but 
 not of the odour, of civet. This opening 
 might have given rise to the error of the an- 
 cients, who asserted, that this animal was eve- 
 ry year alternately male and female. Such 
 are the more striking distinctions of the hyaena, 
 as given us by naturalists ; which, neverthe- 
 less, convey but a very confused idea of the 
 peculiarity of its form. Its manner of holding 
 the head seems remarkable ; somewhat like a 
 dog pursuing the scent, with the nose near the 
 ground. The head being held thus low, the 
 back appears elevated, like that of the hog, 
 which, with a long bristly band of hair that 
 runs all along, gives it a good deal the air ol 
 that animal ; and, it is probable, that from this 
 similitude it first took its name ; the word 
 huoina being Greek, and derived from hits, 
 which signifies a soiv. 
 
 But no words can give an adequate idea of 
 this animal's figure, deformity, and fierceness ; 
 more savage and untameable than any other 
 quadruped, it seems to be for ever in a state of 
 rage or rapacity, for ever growling except 
 when receiving its food. Its eyes then glisten. 
 
328 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 the bristles of its back all stand upright, its 
 head hangs low, and yet its teeth appear ; all 
 which give it a most frightful aspect, which 
 a dreadful howl tends to heighten. This, 
 which I have often heard, is very peculiar : its 
 beginning resembles the voice of a man moan- 
 ing, and its latter part as if he were making a 
 violent effort to vomit. As it is loud and fre- 
 quent, it might, perhaps, have been sometimes 
 mistaken for that of a human voice in distress, 
 and have given rise to the accounts of the an- 
 cients, who tell us, that the hyaena makes its 
 moan to attract unwary travellers, and then to 
 destroy them : however this be, it seems the 
 most untractable, and, for its size, the most 
 terrible of all other quadrupeds ; nor docs its 
 courage fall short of its ferocity ; it defends it- 
 self against the lion, is a match for the panther, 
 attacks the ounce, and seldom fails to conquer. 
 It is an obscene and solitary animal, to be 
 found chiefly in the most desolate and unculti- 
 vated parts of the torrid zone, of which it is a 
 native." It resides in the caverns of mountains, 
 in the clefts of rocks, or in dens that it has 
 formed for itself under the earth. Though ta- 
 ken never so young, it cannot be tamed; it 
 lives by depredation, like the wolf, but is much 
 stronger, and more courageous. It sometimes 
 attacks man, carries off cattle, follows the flock, 
 breaks open the sheep-cots by night, and rava- 
 ges with insatiable voracity. Its eyes shine by 
 night ; and it is asserted, not without great 
 
 appearance of truth, that it sees better by night 
 than by day. When destitute of other provi- 
 sion, it scrapes up the graves, and devours the 
 dend bodies, how putrid soever. To these 
 dispositions, which are sufficiently noxious and 
 formidable, the ancients have added number- 
 less others, which are long since known to 
 be fables : as, for instance, that the hycena was 
 male and female alternately ; that having 
 brought forth and suckled its young, it then 
 changed sexes for a year, and became a male. 
 This, as was mentioned above, could only pro- 
 ceed from the opening under the tail, which 
 all animals of this species are found to have ; 
 and which is found in the same manner in no 
 other quadruped, except the badger. There 
 is, in the weasel kind indeed, an opening, but 
 it is lower down, and not placed above the 
 anus, as in the badger and the hyaena. Some 
 have said that this animal changes the colour 
 of its hair at will ; others, that a stone was 
 found in its eye, which, put under a man's 
 tongue, gave him the gift of prophecy ; some 
 have said that it had no joints in the neck, 
 which, however, all quadrupeds are known to 
 have ; and some, that the shadow of the hyaena 
 kept dogs from barking. These, among ma- 
 ny other absurdities, have been asserted of this 
 quadruped ; and which I mention to show the 
 natural disposition of mankind, to load those 
 that are already but too guilty with accumu- 
 lated reproach. 
 
 CHAPTER L1L 
 
 OF ANIMALS OF THE WEASEL KIND. 
 
 HAVING described the bolder ranks of car- 
 nivorous animals, we now come to a minuter 
 and more feeble class, less formidable indeed 
 than any of the former, but far more numer- 
 ous, and in proportion to their size, more ac- 
 tive and enterprising. The weasel kind may 
 be particularly distinguished from other carni- 
 vorous animals, by the length and slenderness 
 of their bodies, which are so fitted as to wind, 
 like worms, into very small openings, after 
 
 Buffbn. 
 
 their prey ; and hence also they have received 
 the name of vermin, from their similitude to 
 the worm in this particular. These animals 
 differ from all the cat kind, in the formation 
 and disposition of their claws, which, as in the 
 dog kinds, they can neither draw nor extend at 
 pleasure, as cats are known to do. They dif- 
 fer from the dog kind, in being clothed rather 
 with fur than hair ; and although some vnrie- 
 es of the fox may resemble them in this par- 
 cular, yet the coat of the latter is longer, 
 stronger, and always more resemblinsr hair. 
 
THE DOG KIND. 
 
 329 
 
 Beside these distinctions, all animals of the 
 weasel kind have glands placed near the anus, 
 that either open into or beneath it, furnishing 
 a substance that, in some, has the most oflen- 
 sive smell in nature, in others, the most pleas- 
 ing perfume. All of this kind are still more 
 marked by their habitudes and dispositions, 
 than their external form; cruel, voracious, 
 and cowardly, they subsist only by theft, and 
 find their chief protection in their minuteness. 
 They are all, from the shortness of their legs, 
 slow in pursuit ; and, therefore, owe their sup- 
 port to their patience, assiduity, and cunning. 
 As their prey is precarious, they live a long 
 time without food; and if they happen to fall 
 in where it is in plenty, they instantly de- 
 stroy all about them before they begin to 
 satisfy their appetite, and suck the blood of 
 every animal before they begin to touch its 
 flesh. 
 
 These are the marks common to this kind, 
 all the species of which have a most striking 
 resemblance to each other; and he that has 
 seen one, in some measure, may he said to 
 have seen all. The chief distinction in this 
 numerous class of animals, is to be taken from 
 the size ; for no words can give the minute 
 irregularities of that outline by which one 
 species is to be distinguished from that which 
 is next it. I will begin, therefore, with the 
 least and the best known of this kind, and 
 still marking the size, will proceed gradually 
 to larger and larger, until we come from the 
 weasel to the glutton, which I take to be the 
 largest of all. The weasel will serre as a 
 model for all the rest ; and, indeed, the points 
 in which they differ from this little animal, are 
 but very inconsiderable. 
 
 The WEASEL," as was said, is the smallest 
 of this numerous tribe ; its length not exceed- 
 ing seven inches, from the tip of the nose to 
 the insertion of the tail. This length, hov- 
 ever, seems to be very great, if we compare 
 it with the height of the animal, which is not 
 above an inch and a half. In measuring the 
 wolf, we find him to be not above once and a 
 half as long as he is high ; in observing the 
 weasel, we find it near five times as long as 
 it is high, which shows an amazing dispropor- 
 tion. The tail also, which is bushy, is two 
 
 British Zoology, vol. i. p. 83. 
 
 inches and a half long, and adds to the appa- 
 rent length of this little animal's body. The 
 colour of the weasel is of a bright red on the 
 back and sides, but white under the throat 
 and the belly. It has whiskers like a cat; 
 and thirty-two teeth, which is two more than 
 any of the cat kind ; and these also seem bet- 
 ter adapted for tearing and chewing, than 
 those of the cat kind are. The eyes are lit- 
 tle and black. The ears short, broad, and 
 roundish ; and have a fold at the lower part, 
 which makes them look as if they were dou- 
 ble. Beneath the corners of the mouth, on 
 each jaw, is a spot of brown. 
 
 This animal, though very diminutive to ap- 
 pearance, is, nevertheless, a very formidable 
 enemy to quadrupeds an hundred times its 
 own size. It is very common and well known 
 in most parts of this country; but seems held 
 in very different estimation in different parts 
 of it. In those places where sheep or lambs 
 are bred, the weasel is a most noxious inmate, 
 and every art is used to destroy it; on the 
 contrary, in places where agriculture is chief- 
 ly followed, the weasel is considered as a 
 friend that thins the number of such vermin 
 as chiefly live upon corn: however, in all 
 places, it is one of the most untameable and 
 untractable animals in the world . b When 
 kept in a cage, either for the purposes of 
 amusement or inspection, it will not touch any 
 part of its victuals while any body looks on. 
 It keeps in a continual agitation, and seems 
 frighted so much at the sight of mankind, that 
 it will die, if not. permitted to hide itself from 
 their presence. For this purpose, it must be 
 provided, in its cage, with a sufficient quan- 
 tity of wool or hay, in which it may conceal 
 itself, and where it may carry whatever it has 
 got to eat ; which, however, it w ill not touch 
 until it begins to putrefy. In this state it is 
 seen to pass three parts of the day in sleeping ; 
 and reserves the night for its limes of exer- 
 cise and eating. 
 
 In its wild state, the night is likewise the 
 time during which it may be properly said to 
 live. At the approach of evening, it is seen 
 stealing from its hole, and creeping about the 
 farmer's yard for its prey. If it enters the 
 place where poultry are kept, it never attacks 
 
 b Buffbn, vol. xv. p. 37 
 
330 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 the cocks or the old hens, but immediately 
 aims at the young ones. It does not eat its 
 prey on the place, but, after killing it by a 
 single bite near the head, and with a wound 
 so small that the place can scarcely be per- 
 ceived, it carries it off to its young, or its re- 
 treat. It also breaks and sucks the eggs, and 
 sometimes kills the hen, that attempts to de- 
 fend them. It is remarkably active; and, in 
 a confined place, scarce any animal can es- 
 cape it. It will run up the sides of walls with 
 such facility, that no place is secure from it ; 
 and its body is so small, that there is scarce 
 any hole but what it can wind through. Du- 
 ring the summer, its excursions are more ex- 
 tensive; but in winter, it chiefly confines it- 
 self in barns and farm-yards, where it remains 
 till spring, and where it brings forth its young. 
 All this season it makes war upon the rats and 
 mice, with still greater success than the cat ; 
 for being more active and slender, it pursues 
 them into their holes, and, after a short resist- 
 ance, destroys them. It creeps also into pi- 
 geon-holes, destroys the young, catches spar- 
 rows, and all kinds of small birds; and, if it 
 has brought forth its young, hunts with still 
 greater boldness and avidity. In summer, it 
 ventures farther from the house; and parti- 
 cularly goes into those places where the rat, 
 its chiefest prey, goes before it. Accordingly, 
 it is found in the lower grounds, by the side 
 of waters, near mills, and often is seen to hide 
 its young in the hollow of a tree. 
 
 The female takes every precaution to make 
 an easy bed for her little ones : she lines the 
 bottom of her hole with grass, hay, leaves, 
 and moss, and generally brings forth from 
 three to five at a time. All animals of this, 
 as well as those of the dog kind, bring forth 
 their young with closed eyes : but they very 
 soon acquire strength sufficient to follow the 
 dam in her excursions, and assist in her pro- 
 jects of petty rapine. The weasel, like all 
 others of its kind, does not run on equably, 
 but moves by bounding; and when it climbs 
 a tree, by a single spring it gets a good way 
 from the ground. It jumps in the same man- 
 ner upon its prey; and, having an extremely 
 limber body, evades the attempts of much 
 stronger animals to seize it. 
 
 This animal, like all of its kind, has a very 
 strong smell; and that of the weasel is pecu- 
 
 liarly foetid. This scent is very distinguish- 
 able in those creatures, when they void their 
 excrement; for the glands which furnished 
 this fetid substance, which is of the consist- 
 ence of suet, open directly into the orifice of 
 the anus, and taint the excrement with the 
 strong effluvia. The weasel smells more 
 strongly in summer than in winter; and more 
 abo/ninably when irritated or pursued, than 
 when at its ease. It always preys in silence, 
 and never has a cry except when struck, and 
 then it has a rough kind of squeaking, which 
 at once expresses resentment and pain. Its 
 appetite for animal food never forsakes it; 
 and it seems even to take a pleasure in the 
 vicinity of putrefaction. Mr. Buffbn tells us 
 of one of them being found, with three young 
 ones, in the carcass of a wolf that was grown 
 putrid, and that had been hung up, by the 
 hind legs, as a terror to others. Into this hor- 
 rid retreat the weasel thought proper to re- 
 tire to bring forth her young; she had furnish- 
 ed the cavity with hay, grass, and leaves; and 
 the young were just brought forth when they 
 were discovered by a peasant passing that 
 way. 
 
 THE ERMINE, OR STOAT 
 
 NEXT to the weasel in size, and perfectly 
 alike in figure, is the ermine. The difference 
 between this and the former animal is so very 
 small, that many, and among the rest Linnaeus, 
 who gives but one description of both, have 
 confounded the two kinds together. How- 
 ever, their differences are sufficient to induce 
 later naturalists [o suppose the two kinds dis- 
 tinct ; and as their lights seem preferable, we 
 choose to follow their descriptions." 
 
 The stoat, or ermine, differs from the wea- 
 sel in size, being usually nine inches long; 
 whereas the former is not much above six. 
 The tail of the ermine is always tipped with 
 black, and is longer in proportion to the body, 
 and furnished with hair. The edges of the 
 ears and the ends of the toes in this animal 
 are of a yellowish white; and although it is 
 of the same colour with the weasel, being of 
 a lightish brown, and though both this animal, 
 
 a Button. British Zoology. 
 
THE WEASEL KIND. 
 
 331 
 
 as well as the weasel, in the most northern 
 parts of Europe, changes its colour in winter, 
 and becomes white, yet even then the weasel 
 may be easily distinguished from the ermine 
 by the tip of the tail, which in the latter is 
 always black. 
 
 It is well known that the fur of the ermine 
 is the most valuable of any hitherto known ; 
 and it is in winter only that this little animal 
 has it of the proper colour and consistence. In 
 summer, the ermine, as was said before, is 
 brown, and it may at that time more properly 
 be called the stoat. There are few so unac- 
 quainted with quadrupeds as not to perceive 
 this change of colour in the hair, which in 
 some degree obtains in them all. The horse, 
 the cow, and the goat, all manifestly change 
 colour in the beginning of summer, the old 
 long hair falling off, and a shorter coat of hair 
 appearing in its room, generally of a darker 
 colour, and yet more glossy. What obtains in 
 our temperate climate, is seen to prevail still 
 more strongly in those regions where the win- 
 ters are long and severe, and the summers 
 short and yet generally hot in an extreme de- 
 gree. The animal has strength enough during 
 that season to throw off a warm coat of fur, 
 which would but incommode it, and, conti- 
 nues for two or three months in a state some- 
 what resembling the ordinary quadrupeds of 
 the milder climates. At the approach of v\ inter, 
 however, the cold increasing, the coat of hair 
 seems to thicken in proportion ; from being 
 coarse and short, it lengthens and grows finer, 
 while multitudes of smaller hairs grow up be- 
 tween the longer, thicken the coat, and give 
 it all that warmth and softness which are so 
 much valued in the furs of the northern ani- 
 mals. 
 
 It is no easy matter to account for this re- 
 markable warmth of the furs of northern 
 quadrupeds, or how they corne to be furnished 
 with such an abundant covering. It is easy 
 enough indeed, to say that nature fits them 
 thus for the climate ; and like an indulgent 
 mother, when she exposes them to the rigour 
 of an intemperate winter, supplies them with 
 a covering against its inclemency. But this is 
 only flourishing : it is not easy, I say, to tell 
 how nature comes to furnish them in this man- 
 ner. A few particulars on this subject are 
 all that we yet know. It is observable among 
 quadrupeds, as well as even among the human 
 
 wo. 29 & 30. 
 
 species itself, that a thin sparing diet is apt to 
 produce hair ; children that have been ill fed, 
 i'amished dogs and horses, are more hairy than 
 others whose food has been more plentiful. 
 This may, therefore, be one cause that the 
 animals of the north, in winter, are more hairy 
 than those of the milder climates. At that 
 season, the whole country is covered with 
 deep snow, and the provisions which these 
 creatures are able to procure can be but pre- 
 carious and scanty. Its becoming finer may 
 also proceed from the severity of the cold, that 
 contracts the pores of the skin, and the hair 
 consequently takes the shape of the aperture 
 through which it grows, as wires are made 
 smaller by being drawn through a smaller 
 orifice. However this may be, all the animals 
 of the arctic climates may be said to have their 
 winter and summer garments, except very far' 
 to the north, as in Greenland, where the cold 
 is so continually intense and the food so 
 scarce, that neither the bears nor foxes change 
 colour.* 
 
 The ermine, as was said, is remarkable 
 among these for the softness, the closeness, and 
 the warmth of its fur. It is brown in summer, 
 like the weasel, and changes colour before the 
 winter is b^gun, becoming a beautifdl cream 
 colour, all except the tip of the tail, as was 
 said before, which still continues black. Mr. 
 Daubenton had one of these brought him with 
 its white winter fur, which he put into a cage 
 and kept, in order to observe the manner of 
 moulting its hair. He received it in the be- 
 ginning of March ; in a very short time it 
 began to shed its coat, and a mixture of brown 
 was seen to prevail among ^he white, so that 
 at the ninth of the same month its head was 
 nearly become of a reddish brown. Day after 
 day this colour appeared to extend, at first 
 along the neck and down the back, in the 
 manner of a stripe of about half an inch broad. 
 The fore-part of the legs then assumed the 
 same colour ; a part of the head, the thighs, 
 and the tail, were the last that changed ; but 
 at the end of the month there was no white 
 remaining, except on those parts which are 
 always white in this species, particularly the 
 throat and the belly. However, he had not 
 the pleasure of seeing this animal resume its 
 former whiteness, although he kept it for 
 
 a Krantz's History of Greenland, vol. i. p. 72. 
 3F 
 
332 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 above two years ; which, without doubt, was 
 owing to its imprisoned state ; this colour bring 
 partly owing to its stinted food, and partly to 
 the rigour of the season. During its state of 
 confinement, this little animal always continu- 
 ed very wild and untractahlc ; forever in a state 
 of violent agitation, except when asleep, which 
 it often continued for three parts of the day. 
 Except for its most disagreeable scent, it was 
 an extremely pretty creature, its eyes spright- 
 ly, its physiognomy pleasant, and its motions 
 so swift that the eye could scarce attend them. 
 It was fed with eggs and flesh, but it always 
 let them putrefy before it touched cither. As 
 some of this kind are known to be fond of 
 honey, it was tried to feed this animal with 
 such food for a while ; after having for three 
 or four days deprived it of other food, it ate of 
 this, and died shortly after ; a strong proof of 
 its being a distinct species from the pole-cat 
 or the martin, who feed upon honey, but 
 otherwise pretty much resemble the ermine in 
 their figure and dispositions. 
 
 In the north of Europe and Siberia their 
 skins make a valuable article of commerce, 
 and they are found there much more frequent- 
 ly than among us. In Siberia they burrow in 
 the fields, and are taken in traps baited with 
 flesh. In Norway they are either shot with 
 blunt arrows, or taken in traps made of two 
 flat stones, one being propped with a stick, to 
 which is fastened a baited string, and when 
 the animals attempt to pull this way, the stone 
 drops and crushes them to death. This ani- 
 mal is sometimes found white in Great Britain, 
 and is then called a white weasel. Its furs, 
 however, among us are of no value, having 
 neither the thickness, the closeness, nor the 
 whiteness of those which come from Siberia. 
 The fur of the ermine, in every country, 
 changes by time ; for, as much of its beautiful 
 whiteness is given it by certain arts known to 
 the furriers, so its natural colour returns, and its 
 former whiteness can never be restored again. 
 
 THE FERRET. 
 
 THE animal next in size to the ermine, is 
 the ferret ; which is a kind of domestic in Eu- 
 rope, though said to be originally brought from 
 Africa into Spain, which being a country 
 abounding in rabbits, required an animal of 
 
 this kind more than nny other : however this 
 be, it is not to be found at present among us, 
 except in its domestic state ; and it is chiefly 
 kept tame, for the purposes of the warren. 
 
 The ferret is about one foot long, being 
 nearly four inches longer than the weasel. It 
 resembles that animal in the slenderness of its 
 body, and the shortness of its legs ; but its uose 
 is sharper, and its body more slender, in pro- 
 portion to its length. The ferret is commonly 
 of a cream colour; but they are also found of 
 all the colours of the weasel kind ; white, 
 blackish, brown, and party-coloured. Those 
 that are of the whitish kind, have their eyes 
 red, as is almost general with all animals en- 
 tirely of that colour. But its principal distinc- 
 tion from the weasel, is the length of the hair 
 on its tail, which is much longer in the ferret 
 than the weasel. Words will not well express the 
 other distinctions ; and what might take up a 
 page in dull discrimination, a single glance of 
 the eye, when the animals themselves are pre- 
 sented, can discover. 
 
 As this animal is a native of the torrid zone,* 
 so it cannot bear the rigours of our climate 
 without care and ^shelter ; and it generally 
 repays the trouble of its keeping, by its great 
 agility in the warren. It is naturally such au 
 enemy of the rabbit kind, that if a dead rabbit 
 be presented to a young ferret, although it has 
 never seen one before, it instantly attacks and 
 bites it with an appearance of rapacity. If the 
 rabbit be living, the ferret is still more eager, 
 seizes it by the neck, winds itself round it, and 
 continues to suck its blood, till it be satiated. 
 
 Their chief use in warrens is to enter the 
 holes, and drive the rabbits into the nets that 
 are prepared for them at the mouth. For this 
 purpose, the ferret is muzzled ; otherwise, in- 
 stead of driving out the rabbit, it would con- 
 tent itself with killing and sucking its blood at 
 the bottom of the hole ; but, by this contri 
 vance, being rendered unable to seize its prey, 
 the rabbit escapes from its claws, and instantly 
 makes to the mouth of the hole with such pre- 
 cipitation, that it is inextricably entangled in 
 the net, placed there for its reception. It oftea 
 happens, however, that the ferret- disengages 
 itself of its muzzle, and ihen it is most com 
 monly lost, unless it be dug out ; for, finding 
 all its wants satisfied in the warren, it never 
 
 a Burton. 
 
THE WEASEL KIND. 
 
 333 
 
 thinks of returning to the owner, but continues 
 to lead a rapacious solitary life while the 
 summer continues, and dies with the cold of 
 the winter. In order to bring the ferret from 
 his hole, the owners often burn straw and 
 other substances at the mouth ; they also beat 
 above to terrify it ; but this does not always 
 ucceed ; for as there are often several issues 
 to each hole, the ferret is affected neither by 
 the noise nor the smoke, but continues secure 
 at the bottom, sleeping the greatest part of 
 the time, and waking only to satisfy the calls 
 of hunger. 
 
 The female of this species," is sensibly less 
 than the male, whom she seeks with great ar- 
 dour, and, it is said, often dks without being 
 admitted. They are usually kept in boxes, 
 with wool, of which they make themselves a 
 warm bed, that serves to defend them from 
 the rigour of the climate. They sleep almost 
 continually; and the instant they awake, they 
 seem eager for food. They are usually fed 
 with bread and milk. They breed twice a 
 year. Some of them devour their young as 
 soon as brought forth, and then become fit 
 for the male again. Their number is usually 
 from five to six at a litter; and this is said to 
 consist of more females than males. Upon 
 the whole, this is an useful, but a disagreeable 
 and offensive animal ; its scent is ftetid, its 
 nature voracious, it is tame without any at- 
 tachment, and such is its appetite for blood, 
 that it has been known to attack and kill chil- 
 dren in the cradle. It is very easy to be irri- 
 tated ; and, although at all times its smell is 
 very offensive, it then is much more so ; and 
 its bite is very difficult of cure. 
 
 To the ferret kind we may add an animal 
 which Mr. Buffbn calls the vanstre, the skin of 
 which was sent him stuffed from Madagascar. 
 It was thirteen inches long, a good deal resem- 
 bling the ferret in figure, but differing in the 
 number of its grinding teeth, which amounted 
 to twelve ; whereas in the ferret there are 
 but eight : it differed also in colour, being of 
 a dark brown, and exactly the same on all 
 parts of its body. Of this animal, so nearly 
 resembling the ferret, we have no other his- 
 tory but the mere description of its figure ; 
 and in a quadruped whose kind is so strong- 
 
 Buflbn, 
 
 ly marked, perhaps this is sufficient to satisfy 
 curiosity. 
 
 THE POLECAT. 
 
 THE Polecat is larger than the weasel, the 
 ermine, or the ferret, being one foot five in- 
 ches long; whereas the weasel is but six in- 
 ches, the ermine nine, and the ferret eleven 
 inches. It so much resembles the ferret in 
 form, that some have been of opinion they 
 were one and the same animal ; nevertheless, 
 there are a sufficient number of distinctions 
 between them : it is, in the first place, larger 
 than the ferret; it is not quite so slender, and 
 has a blunter nose; it differs also internally, 
 having but fourteen ribs, whereas the ferret 
 has fifteen ; and wants one of the breast bones, 
 which is found in the ferret : however, war- 
 reners assert, that the polecat will mix with 
 the ferret; and they are sometimes obliged 
 to procure an intercourse between these two 
 animals, to improve the breed of the latter, 
 which, by long confinement, is sometimes seen 
 to abate of its rapacious disposition. Mr. Buf- 
 fon denies that the ferret will admit the pole- 
 cat; yet gives a variety, under the name of 
 both animals, which may very probably be a 
 spurious race between the two. 
 
 However this be, the polecat seems by 
 much the more pleasing animal of the two; 
 for although the long slender shape of all these 
 vermin tribes gives them a very disagreeable 
 appearance, yet the softness and colour of the 
 hair in some of them atones for the defect, 
 and renders them, if not pretty, at least not 
 frightful. The polecat, for the most part, is 
 of a deep chocolate colour; it is white about 
 the mouth ; the ears are short, rounded, and 
 tipped with white ; a little beyond the cor- 
 ners of the mouth a stripe begins, which runs 
 backward, partly white and partly yellow : 
 its hair, like that of all this class, is of two 
 sorts, the long and the furry; but in this ani- 
 mal the two kinds are of different colours; 
 the longest is black, and the shorter yellow- 
 ish : b the throat, feet, and tail, are blacker 
 than any other parts of the body ; the claws 
 are white underneath, and brown above ; and 
 its tail is about two inches and a half. 
 
 b Ray's Synopsis. 
 
334 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 It is very destructive to young game of all 
 kinds ;* but the rabbit seems to be its favou- 
 rite prey : a single polecat is often sufficient 
 to destroy a whole warren; for, with that 
 insatiable thirst for blood which is natural to 
 all the weasel kind, it kills much more than 
 it can devour; and I have seen twenty rab- 
 bits at a time taken out dead, which they had 
 destroyed, and that by a wound which was 
 hardly perceptible. Their size, however, 
 which is so much larger than the weasel, ren- 
 ders their retreats near houses much more pre- 
 carious ; although I have seen them burrow 
 near a village, so as scarcely to be extirpated. 
 But, in general, they reside in woods or thick 
 brakes, making holes under ground of about 
 two yards deep, commonly ending among the 
 roots of large trees, for greater security. In 
 winter they frequent houses, and make a com- 
 mon practice of robbing the hen-roost and the 
 dairy. 
 
 The polecat is particularly destructive 
 among pigeons," when it gets intoa dove-house; 
 without making so much noise as the weasel, 
 it does a great deal more mischief; it des- 
 patches each with a single wound in the head; 
 and, after killing a great number, and satia- 
 ting itself with their blood, it then begins to 
 think of carrying them home. This it care- 
 fully performs, going and returning, and bring- 
 ing them one by one to its hole; but if it 
 should happen that the opening by which it 
 got into the dove-house be not large enough 
 for the body of the pigeon to get through, this 
 mischievous creature contents itself with car- 
 rying away the heads, and makes a most de- 
 licious feast upon the brains. 
 
 It is not less fond of honey; attacking the 
 hives in winter, and forcing the bees away. 
 It does not remove far from houses in winter, 
 as its prey is not so easily found in the woods 
 during that season. The female brings forth 
 her young in summer, to the number of five or 
 six at a time ; these she soon trains to her own 
 rapacious habits, supplying the want of milk, 
 which no carnivorous quadruped has in plen- 
 ty, with the blood of such animals as she hap- 
 pens to seize. The fur of this animal is con- 
 sidered as soft and warm; yet it is in less es- 
 timation than some of a much inferior kind, 
 
 British Zoology, vol. i. p. 78. *> Buflbn. 
 
 from its offensive smell, which can never be 
 wholly removed, or suppressed. The polecat 
 seems to be an inhabitant of the temperate 
 climates, scarce any being found towards the 
 north, and but very few in the warmer latitudes. 
 The species appear to be confined in Europe, 
 from Poland to Italy. It is certain, that these 
 animals are afraid of the cold, as they are 
 often seen to come into houses in winter, and 
 as their tracks are never found in the snow, 
 near their retreats. It is probable, also, that 
 they are afraid of heat, as they are but thin- 
 ly scattered in the southern climates. 
 
 THE MARTIN. 
 
 THE Martin is a larger animal than any of 
 the former, being generally eighteen inches 
 long, and the tail ten more. It differs from 
 the polec it, in being about four or five inches 
 longer; its tail also is longer in proportion, 
 and more bushy at the end ; its nose is flatter; 
 its cry is sharper and more piercing; ils co- 
 lours are more elegant; and, what still adds 
 to their beauty, its scent is very unlike the 
 former, instead of being offensive, is consider- 
 ed as a most pleasing perfume. The martin, 
 in short, is the most beautiful of all British 
 beasts of prey : its head is small, and elegant- 
 ly formed : its eyes lively ; its ears are broad, 
 rounded, and open ; its back, its sides, and 
 tail, are covered with a fine thick downy fur, 
 with longer hair intermixed ; the roots are ash 
 colour, the middle of a bright chesnut. the 
 points black ; the head is brown, with a slight 
 cast of red ; the legs, and upper sides of the 
 feet, are of a chocolate colour; the palms, or 
 under sides, are covered with a thick down, 
 like that of the body ; the feet are broad, the 
 claws white, large, and sharp, well adapted 
 for the purposes of climbing, but, as in others 
 of the weasel kind, incapable of being sheath- 
 ed or unsheathed at pleasure ; the throyt and 
 breast are white; the belly of the s;ime co- 
 lour with the back, but rather paler; the hair 
 on the tail is very long, especially at the end, 
 where it appears much thicker than near the 
 insertion. 
 
 c Buflbn. 
 
THE WEASEL KIND. 
 
 335 
 
 There is also a variety of this animal, cal- 
 led the yellow-breasted martin, which in no re- 
 spect diners from the former, except that this 
 has a yellow breast, whereas the other has a 
 white one: the colour of the body also is dark- 
 er ; and, as it lives more among trees than the 
 other martin, its fur is more valuable, beau- 
 tiful, and glossy. The former of these Mr. 
 Buffon calls ihefouine; the latter, simply the 
 martin ; and he supposes them to be a distinct 
 species: but as they differ only in colour, it 
 is unnecessary to embarrass history by a new 
 distinction, where there is only so minute a 
 difference. 
 
 Of all animals of the weasel kind, the mar- 
 tin is the most pleasing; all its motions show 
 great grace, as well as agility ; and there is 
 scarce an animal in our woods that will ven- 
 ture to oppose it. Quadrupeds five times as 
 big are easily vanquished ; the hare, the sheep, 
 and even the wild cat itself, though much 
 stronger, is not a match for the martin : and 
 although carnivorous animals are not fond of 
 engaging each other, yet the wild cat and the 
 martin seldom meet without a combat. Ges- 
 ner tells us of one of this kind that he kept 
 tame, which was extremely playful and pretty; 
 it went among the houses of the neighbour- 
 hood, and always returned home when hun- 
 fry : it was extremely fond of a dog that had 
 een bred up with it, and used to play with 
 it as cats are seen to play, lying on its back, 
 and biting without anger or injury. That 
 which was kept tame by Mr. Buflfbn, was not 
 quite so social : it was divested of its ferocity, 
 but continued without attachment; and vras 
 still so wild as to be obliged to be held N by a 
 chain. Whenever a cat appeared, it prepar- 
 ed for war: and if any of the poultry came 
 within its reach, it flew upon them with avi- 
 dity. Though it was tied by the middle of 
 the body, it frequently escaped : at first it re- 
 turned after some hours, but without seem- 
 ing pleased, as if it only came to be fed; the 
 next time it continued abroad longer; and, 
 at last, went away without ever returning. 
 It was a female, and was, when it went off, a 
 year and a half old ; and Mr. Buffon supposes 
 it to have gone in quest of the male. It ate 
 every thing that was given it. except salad or 
 herbs; and it was remarkably fond of honey. 
 It was remarked, that it drank often, and of- 
 
 ten slept for two days together; and that, in 
 like manner, it was often two or three days 
 without sleeping. Before it went to sleep, it 
 drew itself up into a round, hid its head, and 
 covered it with its tail. When awake it was 
 in continual agitation, and was obliged to be 
 tied up, not less to prevent its attacking the 
 poultry, than to hinder it from breaking what- 
 ever it came near, by the capricious wildness 
 of its motions. 
 
 The yellow-breasted martin is much more 
 common in France than in England ; arid yet 
 even there this variety is much scarcer than 
 that with the white breast. The latter keeps 
 nearer houses and villages to make its petty 
 ravages among the sheep and the poultry; 
 the other keeps in the woods, and leads in 
 every respect a savage life, building its nest 
 on the tops of trees, and living upon such ani- 
 mals as are entirely wild like itself. About 
 night-fall it usually quits its solitude to seek 
 its prey, hunts after squirrels, rats, and rab- 
 bits; destroys great numbers of birds and 
 their young, takes the eggs from the nest, and 
 often removes them to its own without break- 
 ing.* The instant the martin finds itself pur- 
 sued by dogs, for which purpose there is a 
 peculiar breed, that seem fit for this chase only, 
 it immediately makes to its retreat, which is 
 generally in the hollow of some tree, towards 
 the top, and which it is impossible to come at 
 without cutting it down. Their nest is gene- 
 rally the original tenement of the squirrel, 
 which that little animal bestowed great pains 
 in completing; but the martin having killed 
 and dispossessed the little architect, takes 
 possession of it for its own use, enlarges its 
 dimensions, improves the softness of the bed, 
 and in that retreat brings forth its young. Its 
 litter is never above three or four at a time ; 
 they are brought forth with the eyes closed, 
 as in all the rest of this kind, and very soon 
 come to a state of perfection. The dam com- 
 pensates for her own deficiency of milk, by 
 bringing them eggs and live birds, accustom- 
 ing them from the beginning to a life of car- 
 nage and rapine. When she leads them from 
 the nest into the woods, the birds at once dis- 
 tinguish their enemies, and attend them, as 
 we before observed of the fox, with all the 
 
 a Brooke's Natural History. 
 
336 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 marks of alarm and animosity. Wherever 
 the martin conducts her young, a flock of 
 email birds are seen threatening and insulting 
 her, alarming every thicket, and often direct- 
 ing the hunter in his pursuit. The martin is 
 more common in North America than in any 
 part of Europe. These animals are found in 
 all the northern parts of the world, from Si- 
 beria to China and Canada. In every coun- 
 try they are hunted for their furs, which are 
 very valuable, and chiefly so when taken in 
 the beginning of winter. The most esteem- 
 ed parts of the martin's skin is that part of it 
 which is browner than the rest, and stretches 
 along the back-bone. Above twelve thousand 
 of these skins are annually imported into Eng- 
 land from Hudson's Bay, and above thirty 
 thousand from Canada. 
 
 THE SABLE. 
 
 MOST of the classes of the weasel kind 
 would have continued utterly unknown and 
 disregarded, were it not for their furs, which 
 are finer, more glossy, and soft, than those of 
 any other quadruped. Their dispositions are 
 fierce and untameable ; their scent generally 
 offensive; and their figure disproportioned 
 and unpleasing. The knowledge of one or 
 two of them would, therefore, have sufficed 
 curiosity ; and the rest would probably have 
 been confounded together under one common 
 name, as things useless and uninteresting, had 
 not their skins been coveted by the vain, and 
 considered as capable of adding to human 
 magnificence or beauty. 
 
 Of all these, however, the skin of the sable 
 is the most coveted, and held in the highest 
 esteem. It is of a brownish black ; and the 
 darker it is it becomes the more valuable. 
 A single skin, though not above four inches 
 broad, is often valued at ten or fifteen pounds;" 
 the fur differing from others in this, that it has 
 no grain ; so that rub it which way you will, 
 it is equally smooth and unresisting. Never- 
 theless, though this little animal's robe was 
 so much coveted by the great, its history till 
 of late was but very little known ; and we are 
 obliged to Mr. Jonelin for the first accurate 
 
 Regnard. 
 
 description of its form and nature.* From 
 him we learn that the sable resembles the mar- 
 tin in form and size, and the weasel in the 
 number of its teeth; for it is to be observed, 
 that whereas the martin has thirty-eight teeth, 
 the weasel has but thirty-four ; in this respect, 
 therefore, the sable seems to make the shade 
 between these two animals; being shaped 
 like the one, and furnished with teeth like the 
 other. It is also furnished with very large 
 whiskers about the mouth ; its feet are broad, 
 and, as in the rest of its kind, furnished with 
 five claws on each foot. These are its con- 
 stant marks ; but its fur, for which it is so 
 much valued, is not always the same. Some 
 of these species are of a dark brown over all 
 the body, except the ears and the throat, 
 where the hair is rather yellow ; others are 
 more of a yellowish tincture, their cars and 
 throat being alsomuch paler. These,in both, 
 are the colours they have in winter, and which 
 they are seen to change in the beginning of 
 the spring; the former becoming of a yellow 
 brown, and the latter of a pale yellow. In 
 other respects they resemble their kind, in 
 vivacity, agility, and inquietude; in sleeping 
 by day, and seeking their prey by night; in 
 living upon smaller animals, and the disagree- 
 able odour that chiefly characterizes their 
 race. 
 
 They generally inhabit along the banks of 
 rivers, in shady places, and in the thickest 
 woods. They leap with great ease from tree 
 to tree, and are said to be afraid of the sun, 
 which tarnishes the lustre of their robes. 
 They are chiefly hunted in winter for their 
 skins, during which part of the year they are 
 only in season. They are mostly found in 
 Siberia, and but very few in any other coun- 
 try of the world ; and this scarcity it is which 
 enhances their value. The hunting of the sa- 
 ble chiefly falls to the lot of the condemned 
 criminals, who are sent from Russia into these 
 wild and extensive forests, that, for the great- 
 est part of the year, are covered with snow; 
 and, in this instance, as in many others, the 
 luxuries and ornamentsof the vain,are wrought 
 out of the dangers and the miseries of the 
 wretched. These are obliged to furnish a 
 certain number of skins every year, and arc 
 
 " ~^"^^ 
 
 t> Buffon > vol. xxvii. p. 113* 
 
THE WEASEL KIND. 
 
 337 
 
 punished if the proper quantity be not pro- 
 vided. 
 
 The sable is also killed by the Russian sol- 
 diers, who are sent into those parts to that 
 end. They are taxed a certain number of 
 skins yearly, like the former, and are obliged 
 to shoot with only a single ball, to avoid spoil- 
 ing the skin, or else with a cross-bow, and 
 blunt arrows. As an encouragement to the 
 hunters, they are allowed to share among 
 themselves the surplus of those skins which 
 they thus procure ; and this, in the process of 
 six or seven years, amounts to a very consi- 
 derable sum. A colonel, during his seven 
 years stay, gains about four thousand crowns 
 for his share, and the common men six or se- 
 ven hundred each for theirs. 
 
 THE ICHNEUMON 
 
 THE Ichneumon, which some have injudici- 
 ously denominated the cat of Pharaoh, is one 
 of the boldest and most useful animals of all 
 the weasel kind. In the kingdom of Egypt, 
 where it is chiefly bred, it is used for the same 
 purposes that cats are in Europe, and is even 
 more serviceable, as being more expert in 
 catching mice than they. This animal is usu- 
 ally of the size of the martin, and greatly re- 
 sembles it in appearance, except that the hair, 
 which is of a grisly black, is much rougher, 
 and less downy. The tail, also, is not so bushy 
 at the end ; and each hair in particular has 
 three or four colours, which are seen in dif- 
 ferent dispositions of its body. Under its 
 rougher hairs, there is a softer fur of a brown- 
 ish colour, the rough hair being about two 
 inches long, but that of the muzzle extremely 
 short, as likewise that on the legs and paws. 
 However, being long since brought into a 
 domestic state, there are many varieties in 
 this animal; some being much larger than 
 the martin, others much less; some being of 
 a lighter mixture of colours, and some being 
 streaked in the manner of a cat. 
 
 The ichneumon, with all the strength of a 
 cat, has more instinct and agility ; a more uni- 
 versal appetite for carnage, and a greater va- 
 riety of powers to procure it." Rats, mice, 
 
 The rest of this description is extracted from Mr. Buf- 
 fon, except where marked with commas. 
 
 birds, serpents, lizards, and insects, are all 
 equally pursued ; it attacks every living tiling 
 which it is able to overcome, and indiscrimi- 
 nately preys on flesh of all kinds. Its cou- 
 rage is equal to the vehemence of its appetites. 
 It fears neither the force of the dog, nor the 
 insidious malice of the cat ; neither the clawt 
 of the vulture, nor the poison of the viper. 
 It makes war upon all kinds of serpents with 
 great avidity, seizes and kills them, how ve- 
 nomous soever they be ; and, we are told, 
 that when it begins to perceive the effects of 
 their rage, it has recourse to a certain root, 
 which the Indians call after its name, and as- 
 sert to be an antidote for the bite of the asp 
 or the viper. 
 
 But what this animal is particularly service- 
 able to the Egyptians for, is, that it discovers 
 and destroys the eggs of the crocodile. It also 
 kills the young ones that have not as yet been 
 able to reach the water; and, as fable usually 
 goes hand in hand with truth, it is said that 
 the ichneumon sometimes enters the mouth 
 of the crocodile, when it is found sleeping on 
 the shore, boldly attacks the enemy in the in- 
 side, and at length, when it has effectually 
 destroyed it, it eats its way out again. 
 
 The ichneumon, when wild, generally re- 
 sides along the banks of rivers ; and in times 
 of inundation makes to the higher ground, of- 
 ten approaching inhabited places in quest of 
 prey. It goes forward silently and cautious- 
 ly, changing its manner of moving according 
 to its necessities. Sometimes it carries the 
 head high, shortens its body, and raises itself 
 upon its legs; sometimes it lengthens itself, 
 and seems to creep along the ground ; it is 
 often observed to sit upon its hind legs, like 
 a dog when taught to beg ; but more common- 
 ly it is seen to dart like an arrow upon its 
 Krey, and seize it with inevitable certainty. 
 ;s eyes are sprightly and full of fire, its phy- 
 siognomy sensible, its body nimble, its tail 
 long, and its hair rough and various. Like 
 all of its kind, it has glands that open behind 
 and furnish an odorous substance. Its nose 
 is too sharp and its mouth too small to per- 
 mit its seizing things that are large ; however, 
 it makes up by its courage and activity its 
 want of arms ; it easily strangles a cat though 
 stronger and larger than itself; and often 
 fights with dogs, which, though never so bold, 
 
338 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 learn to dread the ichneumon as a formida- 
 ble enemy. It also takes the water like the 
 otter, and, as we are told, will continue under 
 it much longer. 
 
 This animal grows fast and dies soon. It 
 is found in great numbers in all the southern 
 parts of Asia, from Egypt to Java ; and it is 
 also found in Africa, particularly at the Cape 
 of Good Hope. It is domestic, as was said, 
 in Egypt, but in our colder climate, it is not 
 easy to breed or maintain them, as they are 
 not able to support the rigour of our winters. 
 Nevertheless they take every precaution that 
 instinct can dictate to keep themselves warm; 
 they wrap themselves up into a ball, hiding 
 the head between the legs, and in this man- 
 ner continue to sleep all day long. " Seba 
 had one sent him from the island of Ceylon, 
 which he permitted to run for some months 
 about the house. It was heavy and slothful 
 by day, and often could not be awakened even 
 with a blow; but it made up this indolence 
 by its nocturnal activity, smelling about with- 
 out either being wholly tame or wholly mis- 
 chievous. It climbed up the walls and the 
 trees with very great ease, and appeared ex- 
 tremely fond of spiders and worms, which it 
 preferred, probably from their resemblance 
 to serpents, its most natural food. It was also 
 particularly eager to scratch up holes in the 
 ground; and this, added to its wild ness and 
 uncleanliness, obliged our naturalist to smo- 
 ther it in spirits in order to preserve, and ad- 
 ded it to the rest of his collection." 
 
 This animal was one of those formerly wor- 
 shipped by the Egyptians, who considered 
 every thing that was serviceable to them as 
 an emanation of the Deity, and worshipped 
 such as the best representatives of God below. 
 Indeed, if we consider the number of eggs 
 which the crocodile lays in the sand at a time, 
 which often amounts to three or four hundred, 
 we have reason to admire this little animal's 
 usefulness as well as industry in destroying 
 them, since otherwise the crocodile might be 
 produced in sufficient numbers to overrun 
 the whole earth. 
 
 THE STINKARDS. 
 
 THIS is a name which our sailors give to 
 one or two animals of the weasel kind, which 
 
 are chiefly found in America. All the weasel 
 kind, as was already observed, have a very 
 strong smell ; some of them indeed approach- 
 ing to a perfume, but the greatest number 
 most insupportably foetid. But the smell of 
 our weasels, and ermines, and polecats, is 
 fragrance itself when compared to that of the 
 squash and the skink, which have been called 
 the polecats of America. These two are found 
 in different parts of America, both differing in 
 colour and fur, but both obviously of the wea- 
 sel kind, as appears not only from their figure 
 and odour, but also from their disposition. 
 The squash is about the size of a polecat, its 
 hair of a deep brown, but principally differing 
 from all of this kind in having only four toes 
 on the feet before, whereas all other weasels 
 have five. The skink, which I take to be 
 Catesby's Virginia polecat, resembles a pole- 
 cat in shape and size, but particularly differs 
 in the length of its hair and colour. The hair 
 is above three inches and a half long, and 
 that at the end of the tail above four inches. 
 The colour is partly black and partly white, 
 variously disposed over the body, very glossy, 
 long, and beautiful. There seem to be two 
 varieties more of this animal, which Mr. Buf- 
 fon calls the conepate and the zorille. He sup- 
 poses each to be a distinct species : but as 
 they are both said to resemble the polecat 
 in form, and both to be clothed with long fur 
 of a black and white colour, it seems needless 
 to make a distinction. The conepate resem- 
 bles the skink in all things except in size, 
 being smaller, and in the disposition of its co- 
 lours, which are more exact, having five white 
 stripes upon a black ground, running longitu- 
 dinally from the head to the tail. The zorille 
 resembles the skink, but is rather smaller and 
 more beautifully coloured, its streaks of black 
 and white being more distinct, and the colours 
 of its tail being black at its insertion nd while 
 at the extremity: whereas in the skink they 
 are all of one gray colour. 
 
 But whatever differences there may be in 
 the figure or colour of these little animals, 
 they all agree in one common affection, that 
 of being intolerably foetid and loathsome. I 
 have already observed that all the weasel kind 
 have glands furnishing an odorous matter, 
 near the anus, the conduits of which gpnei al- 
 ly have their aperture just at its opening. 
 
THE WEASEL KIND. 
 
 339 
 
 That substance which is stored up in these 
 receptacles, is in some of this kind, such as 
 in the martin, already mentioned, and also in 
 the genet and the civet, to be described here- 
 after, a most grateful perfume; but in the wea- 
 sel, the ermine, the ferret, and the polecat, it 
 is extremely foetid and offensive. Theae glands 
 in the animals now under consideration are 
 much larger, and furnish a matter sublimed 
 to a degree of putrescence, that is truly ama- 
 zing. As to the perfumes of musk and civet, 
 we know that a single grain will diffuse itself 
 over a whole house, and continue for months 
 to spread an agreeable odour, without dimi- 
 nution. However, the perfume of the musk 
 or the civet is nothing, either for strength or 
 duration, to the insupportable odour of these. 
 It is usually voided with their excrement; and 
 if but a single drop happens to touch any 
 part of a man's garment, it is more than pro- 
 bable that he can never wear any part of it 
 more. 
 
 In describing the effects produced by the 
 excrement of these animals, we often hear of 
 its raising this diabolical smell by its urine. 
 However, of this I am apt to doubt; and it 
 should seem to me, that, as all the weasel 
 kind have their excrements so extremely foe- 
 tid from the cause above mentioned, we may 
 consider these also as being foetid from the 
 same causes. Besides, they are not furnish- 
 ed with glands to give their urine such a smell; 
 and the analogy between them and the wea- 
 sel kind being so strong in other respects, we 
 miy suppose they resemble each other in this. 
 It has also been said that they take this me- 
 thod of ejecting their excrement to defend 
 themselves against their pursuers; but it is 
 much more probable that this ejection is the 
 convulsive effect of terror, and that it serves 
 as their defence without their own concur- 
 rence. Certain it is that they never smell 
 thus horridly except when enraged or af- 
 frighted, for they are often kept tame about 
 the houses of the planters of America with- 
 out being very offensive. 
 
 The habitudes of all these animals are the 
 same, living like all the rest of the weasel 
 kind, as they prey upon smaller animals and 
 birds' eggs. The squash, for instance, bur- 
 rows like the polecat in the clefts of rocks, 
 where it brings forth its young. It often steals 
 
 no. 29 & 30. 
 
 into farm-yards, and kills the poultry, eating 
 only their brains. Nor is it safe to pursue or 
 offend it, for then it calls up all its scents, 
 which are its most powerful protection. At 
 that time neither men nor dogs will offer to 
 approach it ; the scent is so strong that it 
 reaches for half a mile round, and more near 
 at hand is almost stifling. If the dogs con- 
 tinue to pursue, it does all in its power to es- 
 cape, by getting up a tree, or by some such 
 means; but if driven to an extremity, it then 
 lets fly upon the hunters; and if it should 
 happen that a drop of this foetid discharge 
 falls in the eye, the person runs the risk of 
 being blinded lor ever.* 
 
 The dogs themselves instantly abate of their 
 ardour when they find this extraordinary bat- 
 tery played off against them ; they instantly 
 turn tail, and leave the animal undisputed mas- 
 ter of the field ; and no exhortations can ever 
 bring them to rally. " In the year 1749," says 
 Kalm, " one of these animals came near the 
 farm where I lived. It was in winter time, 
 during the night; and the dogs that were 
 upon the watch, pursued it for some time, 
 until it discharged against them. Although 
 I was in my bed a good way off, I thought I 
 should have been suffocated ; and the cows 
 and oxen, by their lowings, showed how much 
 they were affected by the stench. About the 
 end of the same year, another of these animals 
 crept into our cellar, but did not exhale the 
 smallest scent, because it was not disturbed. 
 A foolish woman, however, who perceived it 
 at night, by the shining of its eyes, killed it, 
 and at that moment its stench began to spread. 
 The whole cellar was filled with it to such a 
 degree, that the woman kept her bed for se- 
 veral days after; and all the bread, meat, and 
 other provisions, that were kept there, were 
 so infected, that they were obliged to be 
 thrown out of doors." Nevertheless, many of 
 the planters and native Americans keep this 
 animal tame about their houses: and seldom 
 perceive any disagreeable scents, except it is 
 injured or frighted. They are also known 
 to eat its flesh, which some assert to be tole- 
 rable food ; however, they take care to de- 
 prive it of those glands which are so horridly 
 offensive. 
 
 Voy age deKahn, as quoted by Buffou,vol.icxvii.p.9S, 
 3G 
 
340 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 THE GENET. 
 
 FROM the squash, which is the most offen- 
 sive animal in nature, we come to the Genet, 
 which is one of the most beautiful and pleas- 
 ing. Instead of the horrid stench with which 
 the former affects us, this has a most grateful 
 odour; more faint than civet, but to some, 
 for that reason, more agreeable. This ani- 
 mal is rather less than the martin; though 
 there are genets of different sizes, and I have 
 seen one rather larger. It also differs some- 
 what in the form of its bod y. It is not easy 
 in words to give an idea of the distinction. 
 It resembles all those of the weasel kind, in 
 its length, compared to its height ; it resem- 
 bles them in having a soft, beautiful fur, in 
 having its feet armed with claws that cannot 
 be sheathed, and in its appetite for petty car- 
 nage. But then it differs from them in having 
 the nose much smaller and longer, rather re- 
 sembling that of a fox than a weasel. The 
 tail, also, instead of being bushy, tapers to a 
 point, and is much longer ; its ears are larger, 
 and its paws smaller. As to its colours, and 
 figure in general, the genet is spotted with 
 black, upon a ground mixed with red and gray. 
 It has two sorts of hair, the one shorter and 
 softer, the other longer and stronger, but not 
 above half an inch long on any part of its body 
 except the tail. Its spots are distinct and se- 
 parate upon the sides, but unite towards the 
 back, and form black stripes, which run lon- 
 gitudinally from the neck backwards. It lias 
 also along the back a kind of mane or longish 
 hair, which forms a black streak from the head 
 to the tail, which last is marked with rings, 
 alternately black and white, its whole length. 
 
 The genet, like all the rest of the weasel 
 kinds, has glands, that separate a kind of per- 
 fume, resembling civet, but which soon flies 
 off! These glands open differently from those 
 of other animals of this kind ; for, as the lat- 
 ter have their apertures just at the opening 
 of the anus, these have their aperture imme- 
 diately under it; so that the male seems, for 
 this reason, to the superficial observer, to be 
 of two sexes. 
 
 It resembles the martin very much in its 
 habits and disposition ;" except, that it seems 
 
 Buffon, vol. xix. p. 187. 
 
 tamed much more easily. Belonius assures 
 us, that he has seen them in the houses at 
 Constantinople as tame as cats; and that they 
 were permitted to run every where about, 
 without doing the least mischief. For this 
 reason they have been called the cats of Con- 
 stantinople; although they have little else in 
 common with that animal, except their skill 
 in spying out and destroying vermin. Natu- 
 ralists pretend that it inhabits only the moist- 
 er grounds, and chiefly resides along the banks 
 of rivers, having never been found in moun- 
 tains, nor dry places. The species is not 
 much diffused ; it is not to be found in any 
 part of Europe, except Spain and Turkey; 
 it requires a warm climate to subsist and mul- 
 tiply in ; and yet it is not to be found in the 
 warmer regions either of India or Africa. 
 From such as have seen its uses at Constan- 
 tinople, I learn, that it is one of the most beau- 
 tiful, cleanly, and industrious animals in the 
 world ; that it keeps whatever house it is in 
 perfectly free from mice and rats, which can- 
 not endure its smell. Add to this, its nature 
 is mild and gentle, its colours various and 
 glossy, its fur valuable; and, upon the whole, 
 it seems to be one of those animals that, with 
 proper care, might be propagated amongst 
 us, and might become one of the most service- 
 able of our domestics. 
 
 THE CIVET. 
 
 PROCEEDING from the smaller to the greater 
 of this kind, we come, in the last place, to 
 the Civet, which is much larger than any of 
 the former; for as the martin is not above 
 sixteen inches long, the civet is found to be 
 above thirty. Mr. Buffon distinguishes this 
 species into two kinds ; one of which he calls 
 the civet, and the other the zibet. The latter 
 principally differs from the former in having 
 the body longer and more slender, the nose 
 smaller, the ears longer and broader: no 
 mane or long hair running down the back in 
 the latter; and the tail is longer and better 
 marked with rings of different colours, from 
 one end to the other. These are the diffe- 
 rences which have induced this great natu- 
 ralist to suppose them animals of distinct spe- 
 cies; and to allot each a separate descrip- 
 
THE WEASEL KIND. 
 
 341 
 
 tion. How tar future experience may con- 
 firm this conjecture, time must discover; but 
 certain it is, that if such small varieties make 
 a separate class, there may be many other 
 animals equally entitled to peculiar distinc- 
 tion that are now classed together. We shall, 
 therefore, content ourselves, at present, with 
 considering, as former naturalists have done, 
 these two merely as varieties of the same ani- 
 mal, and only altered in figure, by climate, 
 food, or education. 
 
 The civet resembles animals of the weasel 
 kind in the long slenderness of its body, the 
 shortness of its legs, the odorous matter that 
 exudes from the glands behind, the softness 
 of its fur, the number of its claws, and their 
 incapacity of being sheathed. It differs from 
 them in being much larger than any hitherto 
 described ; in having the nose lengthened, so 
 as to resemble that of the fox ; the tail long, 
 and tapering to a point ; and its ears straight, 
 like those of a cat. The colour of the civet 
 varies; it is commonly ash, spotted with black; 
 though it is whiter in the female, tending to 
 yellow ; and the spots are much larger, like 
 those of a panther. The colour on the belly, 
 and under the throat, is black ; whereas the 
 other parts of the body are black or streaked 
 with gray. This animal varies in its colour, 
 being sometimes streaked, as in our kind of 
 cats called tabbies. It has whiskers, like the 
 rest of its kind ; and its eye is black and beau- 
 tiful. 
 
 The opening of the pouch or bag, which is 
 the receptacle of the civet, differs from that 
 of the rest of the weasel kind, not opening into 
 but under the anus. Besides this opening, 
 which is large, there is still another lower 
 down ; but for what purposes designed, is not 
 known. The pouch itself is about two inches 
 and a half broad, and two long; its opening 
 makes a chink, from the top downwards, that 
 is about two inches and a half long; and it 
 is covered on the edges and within, with short 
 hair: when the two sides are drawn asunder, 
 the inward cavity may be seen, large enough 
 to hold a small pullet's egg; all around this 
 are small glands, opening and furnishing that 
 strong perfume which is so well known, and 
 is found in this pouch, of the colour and con- 
 sistence of pomatum. Those who make it 
 their business to breed these animals for their 
 
 perfume, usually take it from them twice or 
 thrice a week, and sometimes oftener. The 
 animal is kept in a long sort of a box, in which 
 it cannot turn round. The person, therefore, 
 opens this box behind, drags the animal back- 
 wards by the tail, keeps it in this position by 
 a bar before, and, with a wooden spoon, takes 
 the civet from the pouch, as carefully as he 
 can ; then lets the tail go, and shuts the box 
 again. The perfume, thus procured, is put 
 into a vessel, which he takes care to keep shut; 
 and when a sufficient quantity is procured, it 
 is sold to very great advantage. 
 
 The civet, 3 although a native of the warm- 
 est climates, is found yet to live in temperate, 
 and even cold countries, provided it be defend- 
 ed carefully from the injuries of the air. 
 Wherefore, it is not only bred among the Turks, 
 the Indians, and Africans, but great numbers 
 of these animals are also bred in Holland, 
 where this scraping people make no small 
 gain of its perfume. The perfume of Amster- 
 dam is reckoned the purest of any; the peo- 
 ple of other countries adulterating it with 
 gums, and other matters, which diminish its 
 value, but increase its weight. The quantity 
 which a single animal affords, generally 
 depends upon its health and nourishment. 
 It gives more in proportion as it is more deli- 
 cately and abundantly fed. Raw flesh, hash- 
 ed small, eggs, rice, birds, young fowls, and 
 particularly fish, are the kinds of food the ci- 
 vet most delights in. These are to be chang- 
 ed and altered, to suit and entice its appe- 
 tite, and continue its health. It gets but very 
 little water; and although it drinks but rare- 
 ly, yet it makes urine very frequently ; and, 
 upon such occasions, we cannot, as in other 
 animals, distinguish the male from the female. 
 
 The perfume of the civet is so strong that 
 it communicates itself to all parts of the ani- 
 mal's body; the fur is impregnated thereby, 
 and the skin penetrated to such a degree that 
 it continues to preserve the odour for a long 
 time after it is stript off. If a person be shut 
 up with one of them in a close room, he can- 
 not support the perfume, which is so copious- 
 ly diffused. When the animal is irritated, as 
 in all the weasel kind, its scent is much more 
 violent than ordinary; and if it be tormented 
 
 a Buflbn, vol. xix. 
 
 3G 
 
342 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 so as to make it sweat, this also is a strong 
 perfume, and serves to adulterate or increase 
 what is otherwise obtained from it. In ge- 
 neral, it is sold in Holland for about fifty shil- 
 lings an ounce : although, like all other com- 
 modities, its value alters in proportion to the 
 demand. Civet must be chosen new, of a 
 good consistence, a whitish colour, and a 
 strong, disagreeable smell. There is still a 
 very considerable traffic carried on from Bus- 
 sorah, Calicut, and other places in India, 
 where the animal that produces it is bred ; 
 from the Levant also, from Guinea, and es- 
 pecially from Brasil, in South America, al- 
 though Mr. Buffbn is of opinion that the ani- 
 mal is a native only of the Old Continent, and 
 not to be found wild in the New. The best 
 civet, however, is furnished, as was observed, 
 by the Dutch, though not in such quantities 
 at present as some years past, when this per- 
 fume was more in fashion. Civet is a much 
 more grateful perfume than musk, to which it 
 has some resemblance; and was some years 
 ago used for the same purposes in medicine. 
 But, at present, it is quite discontinued in pre- 
 scription; and persons of taste or elegance 
 seem to proscribe it even from the toilet. Per- 
 fumes, like dress, have their vicissitudes; musk 
 was in peculiar repute, until displaced by ci- 
 vet; both gave ground, upon discovering the 
 manner of preparing ambergris; and even 
 this is now disused for the less powerful ve- 
 getable kinds of fragrance, spirits of lavender, 
 or otter of roses. 
 
 As to the rest, the civet is said to be a wild 
 fierce animal; and, although sometimes tamed, 
 is never thoroughly familiar. Its teeth are 
 strong and cutting, although its claws be fee- 
 ble and inflexible. It is light and active, and 
 lives by prey, as the rest of its kind, pursuing 
 birds, and other small animals that it is able 
 to overcome. They are sometimes seen steal- 
 ing into the yards and outhouses, to seize upon 
 the poultry : their eyes shine in the night, and 
 it is very probable that they see better in the 
 dark than by day. When they fail of animal 
 food, they are found to subsist upon roots and 
 fruits, and very seldom drink; for which rea- 
 son they are never found near great waters. 
 They breed very fast in their native climates, 
 where the heat seems to conduce to their pro- 
 pagation ; but in our temperate latitudes, al- 
 
 though they furnish their perfume in great 
 quantities, yet they are not found to multiply. 
 A proof that their perfume has no analogy 
 with their appetite lor generation. 
 
 THE GLUTTON. 
 
 I WILL add but one animal more to this nu- 
 merous class of the weasel kind ; namely, the 
 glutton; which, for several reasons, seems to 
 belong to this tribe, and this only. We have 
 hitherto had no precise description of this 
 quadruped; some resembling it to a badger, 
 some to a fox, and some to a hyrena. Lin- 
 naeus places it among the weasels, from the 
 similitude of its teeth; it should seem to me 
 to resemble this animal still more, from the 
 great length of its body, and the shortness of 
 its legs, from the softness of its fur, its dis- 
 agreeable scent, and its insatiable appetite 
 for animal food. Mr. Klein, who saw one of 
 them, which was brought alive from Siberia, 
 assures us, that it was about three feet long,* 
 and about a foot and a half high. If we com- 
 pare these dimensions with those of other ani- 
 mals, we shall find that they approach more 
 nearly to the class we are at present describ- 
 ing than any other; arid that the glutton may 
 very justly be conceived under the form of a 
 great, overgrown weasel. Its nose, its ears, 
 its teeth, and its long bushy tail, are entirely 
 similar; and as to what is said of its being 
 rather corpulent than slender, it is most pro- 
 bable that those who described it thus, saw 
 it after eating, at which time its belly, we are 
 assured, is most monstrously distended : how- 
 ever, suspending all certainty upon this sub- 
 ject, I will take leave rather to follow Liu- 
 ria3us than Buffbn, in describing this animal ; 
 and leave future experience to judge between 
 them. 
 
 The glutton, which is so called from its vo- 
 racious appetite, is an animal found as well 
 in the north of Europe and Siberia, as in the 
 northern pnrts of America, where it has the 
 name of the carcajou. Amidst the variety of 
 descriptions which have been given of it, no 
 
 a He says, it was an ell, eight inches long : I have, 
 therefore, given its length, as supposing it to bea Flemish 
 ell, which is twenty-seven inches. 
 
TFIE WEASEL KIND 
 
 343 
 
 very just idea can be formed of its figure ; 
 and, indeed, some naturalists, among whom 
 was Ray, entirely doubted of its existence. 
 From the best accounts, however, we have of 
 it, the body is thick and long, the legs short ; 
 it is black along the back, and of a reddish 
 brown on the sides ; its fur is held in the high- 
 est estimation, for its softness and beautiful 
 gloss; the tail is bushy, like that of the wea- 
 sel, but rather shorter; and its legs and claws 
 are better h'tted for climbing trees, than for 
 running along the ground. Thus far it en- 
 tirely resembles the weasel; and its manner 
 of taking its prey is also by surprise, and not 
 by pursuit. 
 
 Scarce any of the animals with short legs 
 and long bodies pursue their prey; but, 
 knowing their own incapacity to overtake it 
 by swiftness, either creep upon it in its re- 
 treats, or wait in ambush and seize it with a 
 bound. The glutton, from the make of its 
 legs, and the length of its body, must be par- 
 ticularly slow: and, consequently, its only re- 
 source is in taking its prey by surprise. All 
 the rest of the weasel kind, from the small- 
 ness of their size, are better fitted for a life 
 of insidious rapine than this ; they can pur- 
 sue their prey into its retreats, they can lurk 
 unseen among the branches of trees, and hide 
 themselves with ease under the leaves: but 
 the glutton is too large to follow small prey 
 into their retreats; nor would such, even if 
 obtained, be sufficient to sustain it. For 
 these reasons, therefore, this animal seems 
 naturally compelled to the life for which it 
 has long been remarkable. Its only resource 
 is to climb a tree, which it does with great 
 ease, and there it waits with patience until 
 some large animal passes underneath, upon 
 which it darts down with unerring certainty, 
 and destroys it. 
 
 It is chiefly in North America that this vo- 
 racious creature is seen lurking among the 
 thick branches of trees, in order to surprise 
 the deer, with which the extensive forests of 
 that part of the world abound. Endued with 
 a degree of patience equal to its rapacity, 
 the glutton singles out such trees as it observes 
 marked by the teeth or the antlers of the 
 deer; and is known to remain there watch- 
 ing for several days together. If it has fixed 
 upon a wrong tree, and finds that the deer 
 
 have either left that part of the country, or 
 cautiously shun the place, it reluctantly de- 
 scends, pursues the beaver to its retreat, or 
 even ventures into the water, in pursuit of 
 fishes. But if it happens that, by long atten- 
 tion, and keeping close, at last the elk or the 
 rein-deer happens to pass that way, it at once 
 darts down upon them, sticks its claws be- 
 tween their shoulders, and remains there un- 
 alterably firm. It is in vain that the large 
 frighted animal increases its speed, or threat- 
 ens with its branching horns; the glutton ha- 
 ving taken possession of its post, nothing can 
 drive it off; its enormous prey drives rapidly 
 along amongst the thickest wood, rubs itself 
 against the largest trees, and tears down the 
 branches with its expanded horns; but still 
 its insatiable foe sticks Jbehind, eating its neck, 
 and digging its passage to the great blood- 
 vessels that lie in that part. Travellers who 
 wander through those deserts, often see pieces 
 of the glutton's skin sticking to the trees, 
 against which it was rubbed by the deer. 
 But the animal's voracity is greater than its 
 feelings, and it never seizes without bringing 
 down its prey. When, therefore, the deer, 
 wounded and feeble with the loss of blood, 
 falls, the glutton is seen to make up for its 
 former abstinence by its present voracity. 
 As it is not possessed of a feast of this kind 
 every day, it resolves to lay in a store to serve 
 it for a good while to come. It is, indeed, 
 amazing how much one of these animals can 
 eat at a time! That which was seen by Mr. 
 Klein, although without exercise or air, al- 
 though taken from its native climate, and en- 
 joying but an indifferent state of health, was 
 yet seen to eat thirteen pounds of flesh every 
 day, and yet remain unsatisfied. We may, 
 therefore, easily conceive how much more it 
 must devour at once, after a long fast, of a 
 food of its own procuring, and in the climate 
 most natural to its constitution. We are told, 
 accordingly, that from being a lank, thin ani- 
 mal, which it naturally is, it then gorges in 
 such quantities, that its belly is distended, and 
 its whole figure. seems to alter. Thus vora- 
 ciously it continues eating till, incapable of 
 any other animal function, it lies totally tor- 
 pid by the animal it has killed ; and in this 
 situation continues for two or three days. In 
 this loathsome and helpless state, it finds its 
 
344 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 chief protection from its horrid smell, which 
 few animals care to come near;" so that it 
 continues eating and sleeping till its prey be 
 devoured, bones and all, and then it mounts a 
 tree, in quest of another adventure. 
 
 The glutton, like many others of the weasel 
 kind, seems to prefer the most putrid flesh to 
 that newly killed ; and such is the voracious- 
 ness of this hateful creature, that, if its swift- 
 ness and strength were equal to its rapacity, 
 it would Boon thin the forest of every other 
 living creature. But, fortunately, it is so slow, 
 that there is scarce a quadruped that cannot 
 escape it, except the beaver. This, therefore, 
 it very frequently pursues upon land ; but the 
 beaver generally makes good its retreat by 
 taking to the water, where the glutton has no 
 chance to succeed. This pursuit only hap- 
 pens in summer; for in winter all that remains 
 is to attack the beaver's house, as at that 
 time it never stirs from home. This attack, 
 however, seldom succeeds ? for the beaver 
 has a covert way bored under the ice, and 
 the glutton has only the trouble and disap- 
 pointment of sacking an empty town. 
 
 A life of necessity generally produces a 
 good fertile invention. The glutton, conti- 
 nually pressed by the call of appetite, and 
 having neither swiftness nor activity to satis- 
 fy it, is obliged to make up by stratagem the 
 defects of nature. It is often seen to examine 
 the traps and the snares laid for other ani- 
 mals, in order to anticipate the fowlers. It is 
 said to practise a thousand arts to procure 
 its prey, to steal upon the retreats of the rein- 
 deer, the flesh of which animal it loves in pre- 
 ference to all others ; to lie in wait for such 
 animals as have been maimed by the hunters; 
 to pursue the isatis while it is hunting for it- 
 self; and when that animal has run down its 
 prey, to come in and seize upon the whole, 
 and sometimes to devour even its poor pro- 
 yider; when these pursuits fail, even to dig 
 
 Linncei Systems, p. 67- 
 
 up the graves, and fall upon the bodies inter- 
 red there, devouring them, bones and all. 
 For these reasons, the natives of the countries 
 where the glutton inhabits, hold it in utter 
 detestation, and usually term it the vulture 
 of quadrupeds. And yet, it is extraordinary 
 enough, that, being so very obnoxious to man, 
 it does not seem to fear him. b We are told 
 by Gemelin of one of these coming up boldly 
 and calmly where there were several persons 
 at work, without testifying the smallest ap- 
 prehension, or attempting to run until it had 
 received several blows, that at last totally 
 disabled it. In all probability it came among 
 them seeking its prey; and, having been used 
 to attack animals of inferior strength, it had 
 no idea of a force superior to its own. The 
 glutton, like all the rest of its kind, is a soli- 
 tary animal ; and is never seen in company 
 except with its female, with which it couples 
 in the midst of winter. The latter goes with 
 young about four months, and brings forth two 
 or three at a time. They burrow in holes 
 as the weasel ; and the male and female are 
 generally found together, both equally reso- 
 lute in defence of their young. Upon this 
 occasion the boldest dogs are afraid to ap- 
 proach them; they fight obstinately, and bite 
 most cruelly. However, as they are unable 
 to escape by flight, the hunters come to the 
 assistance of the dogs, and easily overpower 
 them. Their flesh, it may readily be supposed, 
 is not fit to be eaten ; but the skins amply re- 
 compense the hunters for their toil and dan- 
 ger. The fur has the most beautiful lustre 
 that can be imagined, and is preferred betbre 
 all others, except that of the Siberian fox, or 
 the sable. Among other peculiarities of this 
 animal, Linnaeus informs us, that it is very 
 difficult to be skinned : but from what cause, 
 whether its abominable stench, or the skin's 
 tenacity to the flesh, he has not thought fit 
 to inform us. 
 
 b Buffon. c Linnzei System, p. 67 
 
THE HARE KIND. 
 
 345 
 
 AXIXtt AX.S OF THE HAKE SZND. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 HAVING described in the last chapter a 
 tribe of minute, fierce, rapacious animals, I 
 come now to a race of minute animals of a 
 more harmless and gentle kind, that, without 
 being enemies to any, are preyed upon by all. 
 As nature has fitted the former for hostility, 
 so it has entirely formed the latter for evasion; 
 and as the one kind subsist by their courage 
 and activity, so the other find safety from their 
 swiftness and their fears. The hare is the 
 swiftest animal in the world for the time it 
 continues ; and few quadrupeds can overtake 
 even the rabbit when it has but a short way 
 to run. To this class also we may add the 
 squirrel, somewhat resembling the hare and 
 rabbit in its form and nature, and equally pret- 
 ty, inoffensive, and pleasing. 
 
 If we were methodically to distinguish ani- 
 mals of the hare kind from all others, we might 
 say that they have but two cutting teeth above 
 and two below, that they are covered with a 
 soft downy fur, and that they have a bushy 
 tail. The combination of these marks might 
 perhaps distinguish them tolerably well; 
 whether from the rat, the beaver, the otter, 
 or any other most nearly approaching in form. 
 But, as I have declined all method that rather 
 tend to embarrass history than enlighten it, I 
 am contented to class these animals together 
 for no very precise reason, but because I find 
 a general resemblance between them in their 
 natural habits, and in the shape of their heads 
 and body. I call a squirrel an animal of the 
 hare kind, because it is something like a hare. 
 I call the paca of the same kind, merely be- 
 cause it is more like a rabbit than any other 
 animal I know of. In short, it is fit to erect 
 some particular standard in the imagination 
 of the reader, to refer him to some animal that 
 te knows, in order to direct him in conceiv- 
 
 ing the figure of such as he does not know. 
 Still, however, he should be apprized that his 
 knowledge will be defective without an ex- 
 amination of each particular species; and that 
 saying an animal is of this or that particular 
 kind, is but a very trifling part of its history. 
 
 Animals of the hare kind, like all others 
 that feed entirely upon vegetables, are inof- 
 fensive and timorous. As nature furnishes 
 them with a most abundant supply, they have 
 not that rapacity after food, remarkable in 
 such as are often stinted in their provision. 
 They are extremely active and amazingly 
 swift, to which they chiefly owe their protec- 
 tion; for being the prey of every voracious 
 animal, they are incessantly pursued. The 
 hare, the rabbit, and the squirrel, are placed 
 by Pyerius, in his Treatise of Ruminating Ani- 
 mals, among the number of those that chew 
 the cud ; but how far this may be true, I will 
 not pretend to determine. Certain it is, that 
 their lips continually move, whether sleeping 
 or waking. Nevertheless, they chew their 
 meat very much before they swallow it, and 
 for that reason I should suppose that it does 
 not want a second mastication. All these 
 animals use their fore-paws like hands ; they 
 are remarkably salacious, and are furnished 
 by nature with more ample powers than most 
 others for the business of propagation. They 
 are so very prolific, that were they not thin- 
 ned by the constant depredations made upon 
 them by most other animals, they would quick- 
 ly over-run the earth 
 
 THE HARE. 
 
 OF all these the hare is the largest, the 
 most persecuted, and the most timorous ; all 
 
346 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 its muscles are formed for swiftness ; and all 
 its senses seem only given to direct its flight. 
 It has very large prominent eyes, placed back- 
 wards in its head, so that it can almost see 
 behind it as it runs. These are never wholly 
 closed ; but as the animal is continually upon 
 the watch, it sleeps with them open. The 
 ears are still more remarkable for their size; 
 they are moveable, and capable of being di- 
 rected to every quarter; so that the smallest 
 sounds are readily received, and the animal's 
 motions directed accordingly. The muscles 
 of the body are very strong, and without fat, 
 so that it may be said to carry no superfluous 
 burden of flesh about it ; the hinder feet are 
 longer than the fore, which still adds to the 
 rapidity of its motions; and almost all animals 
 that are remarkable for their speed, except 
 the horse, are formed in the same manner. 
 
 An animal so well formed for a life of es- 
 cape might be supposed to enjoy a state of 
 tolerable security; but as every rapacious 
 creature is its enemy, it but very seldom lives 
 out its natural term. Dogs of all kinds pur- 
 sue it by instinct, and follow the hare more 
 eagerly than any other animal. The cat and 
 the weasel kinds are continually lying in 
 ambush, and practising all their little arts to 
 seize it ; birds of prey are still more danger- 
 ous enemies, as against them no swiftness can 
 avail, nor retreat secure ; but man, an enemy 
 far more powerful than all, prefers its flesh to 
 that of other animals, and destroys greater 
 numbers than all the rest. Thus pursued 
 and persecuted on every side, the race would 
 long since have been totally extirpated, did 
 it not find a resource in its amazing fertility. 
 
 The hare multiplies exceedingly; it is in 
 a state of engendering at a few months old ; 
 the female goes with young but thirty days, 
 and generally brings forth three or four at a 
 time.* As soon as they have produced their 
 young they are again ready for conception, 
 and thus do not lose any time in continuing 
 the breed. But they are in another respect 
 fitted in an extraordinary mauner for multi- 
 plying their kind ; for the female, from the 
 conformation of her womb, is often seen to 
 bring forth, and yet to continue pregnant at 
 the same time ; or, in other words, to have 
 
 BufTon, vol. xiii. p. 12. 
 
 young ones of different ages in her womb to- 
 gether. Other animals never receive the 
 male when pregnant, but bring forth their 
 young at once. But it is frequently different 
 with the hare; the female often, though al- 
 ready impregnated, admitting the male, and 
 thus receiving a second impregnation. The 
 reason of this extraordinary circumstance is, 
 that the womb in these animals is divided in 
 such a manner that it may be considered as 
 a double organ, one side of which may be 
 filled while the other remains empty. Thus 
 these animals may be seen to couple at every 
 period of their pregnancy, and even, while 
 they are bringing forth young, laying the foun- 
 dation of another brood. 
 
 The young of these animals are brought 
 forth with their eyes open, and the dam 
 suckles them lor twenty days, after which 
 they leave her, and seek out for themselves.* 
 From this we observe, that the education 
 these animals receive is but trifling, and the 
 family connexion but of a short duration. In 
 the rapacious kinds the dam leads .her young 
 forth for months together; teaches them the 
 arN of rapine; and, although she wants milk 
 to supply them, yet keeps them under her 
 care until they are able to hunt for themselves. 
 But a long connexion of this kind would be 
 very unnecessary as well as dangerous to the 
 timid animals we are describing; their food 
 is easily procured ; and their associations, 
 instead of protection, would only expose them 
 to their pursuers. They seldom, however, 
 separate far from each other, or from the 
 place where they were produced; but in ike 
 each a form at some distance, having a pre- 
 dilection rather for the place than each other'* 
 society. They feed during the night rather 
 than by day, choosing the more tender bladei 
 of grass, and quenching their thirst with the 
 dew. They live also upon roots, leaves, fruits, 
 and corn, and prefer such plants as are fur- 
 nished with a milky juice. They also strip 
 the bark of trees during the winter, there 
 being scarce any that they will not feed on, 
 except the lime or the alder. They are par- 
 tictiliirly fond of birch, pinks, and parsley. 
 When they are kept tame, they are fed with 
 lettuce and other garden herbs ; but the flesh 
 
 fe Button, vol. xiii. p. 12. 
 
THE HARE KIND. 
 
 347 
 
 of such as are thus brought up is always indif- 
 ferent. 
 
 They sleep or repose in their forms by day, 
 and may be said to live only by night." It is 
 then that they go forth to feed and couple. 
 They do not pair, however, but in the rutting- 
 season, which begins in February ; the male 
 pursues and discovers the female by the saga- 
 city of its nose. They are then seen, by moon- 
 light, playing, skipping, and pursuing each 
 other ; but the least motion, the slightest breeze, 
 the falling of a leaf is sufficient to disturb their 
 revels ; they instantly fly off, and each takes a 
 separate way. 
 
 As their limbs are made for running, they 
 easily outstrip all other animals in the begin- 
 ning ; and could they preserve their speed, it 
 would be impossible to overtake them ; but as 
 they exhaust their strength at their first ef- 
 forts, and double back to the place they were 
 started from, they are more easily taken than 
 the fox, which is a much slower animal than 
 they. As fheir hind legs are longer than the 
 fore, they always choose to turn up hill, by 
 which the speed of their pursuers is diminished, 
 while theirs remain the same. Their motions 
 are also without any noise, as they have the 
 sole of the foot furnished with hair; and they 
 seem the only animals that have hair on the in- 
 side of their mouths. 
 
 They seldom live above seven or eight years 
 at the utmost ; they come to their full perfec- 
 tion in a year ; and this multiplied by seven, 
 as in other animals, gives the extent of their' 
 li\ r es. b It is said, however, that the females 
 live longer than the males: of this Mr. Buffbn 
 makes a doubt ; but I am assured that it is so. 
 They pass their lives, in our climate, in solitude 
 and silence ; and they seldom are heard to cry. 
 except when they are seized or wounded. 
 Their voice is not so sharp as the note of some 
 other animals, but more nearly approaching 
 that of the squalling of a child. They are not 
 so wild as their dispositions and their habits 
 seem to indicate ; but are of a complying na- 
 ture, and easily susceptible of a kind of edu- 
 cation. They are easily tamed. They even 
 become fond and caressing, but they are inca- 
 pable of attachment to any particular person, 
 and never can be depended upon ; for, though 
 taken never so young, they regain their native 
 
 a Buffbn, vol. xiii. p. 12. 
 No. 29 & 30. 
 
 Ibid. 
 
 freedom at the first opportunity. As they have 
 a remarkable good ear, and sit upon their hind 
 legs, and use their fore-paws as hands, they 
 have been taught to beat the drum, to dunce 
 to music, and go through the manual exercise. 
 But their natural instincts for their preser- 
 vation are much more extraordinary than those 
 artificial tricks that are taught them. They 
 make themselves a form, particularly in those 
 places where the colour of the grass most re- 
 sembles that of their skin ; it is open to the 
 south in winter, and to the north in summer. 
 The hare, when it hears the hounds at a dis- 
 tance, flies for some time through a natural im- 
 pulse, without managing its strength, or con- 
 sulting any other means but speed for its safe- 
 ty. Having attained some hill or rising ground, 
 and left the dogs so far behind that it no lon- 
 ger hears their cries, it stops, rears on its hin- 
 der legs, and at length looks back to see if it 
 has not lost its pursuers. But these, having 
 once fallen upon the scent, pursue slowly and 
 with united skill, and the poor animal soon 
 again hears the fatal tidings of their approach. 
 Sometimes when sore hunted it will start a 
 fresh hare, and squat in the same form ; some- 
 times it will creep under the door of a sheep- 
 cot, and hide among the sheep ; sometimes it 
 will run among them, and no vigilance can 
 drive it from the flock ; some will enter holes 
 like the rabbit, which the hunters call going to 
 vault ; some will go up one side of the hedge 
 and come down the other ; and it has been 
 known that a hare sorely hunted has got upon 
 the top of a quick-set hedge, and run a good 
 way thereon, by which it has effectually evad- 
 ed the hounds. It is no unusual thing also 
 for them to betake themselves to furze bushes, 
 and to leap from one to another, by which the 
 dogs are frequently misled. However, the 
 first doubling a hare makes is generally a key 
 to all its future attempts of that kind, the lat- 
 ter being exactly like the former. The young 
 hares tread heavier, and leave a stronger scent 
 than the old, because their limbs are weaker ; 
 and the more this forlorn creature tires, the 
 heavier it treads, and the stronger is the scent 
 it leaves. A buck, or male hare, is known by 
 its choosing to run upon hard high-ways, feed- 
 ing farther from the wood-sides, and making 
 its doubling of a greater compass than the fe- 
 male. The male having made a turn or two 
 about its form, frequently leads the hounds five 
 SH 
 
348 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 or six miles on a stretch ; but the female keeps 
 close by some covert side, turns, crosses, and 
 winds among the bushes like a rabbit, and sel- 
 dom runs directly forward. In general, how- 
 ever, both male and female regulate their con- 
 duct according to the weather. In a moist 
 day they hold by the highways more than at 
 any other time, because the scent is then strong- 
 est upon the grass. If they come to the side 
 of a grove or spring, they forbear to enter ; but 
 squat down by the side thereof until the hounds 
 have overshot them ; and then, turning along 
 their former path, make to thoir old form, from 
 which they vainly hope for protection. 
 
 Hares are divided, by the hunters, into 
 mountain and measled hares. The former are 
 more swift, vigorous, and have the flesh bet- 
 ter tasted ; the latter chiefly frequent the 
 marshes, when hunted keep among low 
 grounds, and their flesh is moist, white, and 
 flabby. When the male and female keep one 
 particular spot, they will not suffer any strange 
 hare to make its form in the same quarter, so 
 that it is usually said, that the more you hunt, 
 the more hares you shall have ; for, having 
 killed one hare, others come and take posses- 
 sion of its form. Many of these animals are 
 found to live in woods and thickets, but they 
 are naturally fonder of the open country, and 
 are constrained only by fear to take shelter in 
 places that afford them neither a warm sun 
 nor an agreeable pasture. They are, therefore, 
 usually seen stealing out of the edges of the 
 wood to taste the grass that grows shorter and 
 sweeter in the open fields than under the shade 
 of the trees; however, they seldom miss of being 
 pursued ; and every excursion is a new adven- 
 ture. They are shot at by poachers ; traced 
 by their footsteps in the snow ; caught in sprin- 
 ges ; dogs, birds, and cats, are all combined 
 against them; ants, snakes, and adders, drive 
 them from their forms, especially in summer ; 
 even fleas, from which most other animals are 
 free, persecute this poor creature ; and, so va- 
 rious are its enemies, that it is seldom permit- 
 ted to reach even that short term to which it 
 is limited by nature. 
 
 The soil and climate have their influence 
 upon this animal as well as on most others. 
 In the countries bordering on the north pole, 
 they become white in winter, and are often seen 
 in great troops of four or five hundred, run- 
 along the banks of the river Irtish, or the 
 
 mug 
 
 Jenisca, and are white as the snow they tread 
 on. They are caught in traps for the sake of 
 their skins, which, on the spot, are sold for 
 less than seven shillings a hundred. Their 
 fur is well known to form a considerable ar- 
 ticle in the hat manufacture ; and we accord- 
 ingly import vast quantities of it from those 
 countries where the hare abounds in such plen- 
 ty. They are found also entirely black, but 
 these in much less quantities than the former ;' 
 and even some have been seen with horns, 
 though these but rarely. b 
 
 The hares of the hot countries, particularly 
 in Italy, Spain, and Barbary, are smaller than 
 ours : those bred in the Milanese country are 
 said to be the best in Europe. There is scarce 
 a country where this animal is not to be found, 
 from the torrid zone to the neighbourhood of 
 the polar circle. The natives of Guinea knock 
 them on the head as they come down to the 
 sides of the rivers to drink. They also sur- 
 round the place where they are seen in num- 
 bers, and clattering a short stick, which every 
 man carries, against that which the person 
 next him carries, they diminish their circle 
 gradually, till the hares are cooped up in the 
 midst. They then altogether throw their sticks 
 in among them, and with such deadly force, 
 that they seldom fail of killing great numbers 
 at a time." 
 
 The flesh of this animal has been esteemed 
 as a delicacy among some nations, and is held 
 in detestation by others. The Jews, the an- 
 cient Britons, and the Mahometans, all con- 
 sidered it as an unclean animal, and religious- 
 ly abstained from it. On the contrary, there 
 are scarce any other people, however barba- 
 rous at present, that do not consider it as the 
 most agreeable food. Fashion seems to pre- 
 side and govern all the senses ; what mankind 
 at one time consider as beautiful, fragrant, or 
 savoury, may at another time, or among other 
 nations, be regarded as deformed, disgustful, 
 or ill-tasted. That flesh which the ancient 
 Romans so much admired as to call it the food 
 of the wise, was, among the Jews and the 
 Druids, thought unfit to be eaten ; and even 
 the moderns, who, like the Romans, consider 
 the flesh of this animal as a delicacy, have 
 
 a Klein. Disp. Quadrup. p. 52. b Johnston de 
 
 Quadrup. L. ii. C. 2. c Dictionaire Raisonee Liever. 
 
 d Hist. Gen. des Voyages, torn. iv. p. 171. 
 
THE HARE KIND. 
 
 349 
 
 very different ideas as to dressing it. With us 
 it is simply served up without much seasoning; 
 but Apicius shows us the manner of dressing 
 a hare in true Roman taste, with p rslcy, rice, 
 vinegar, cummin seed, and coriander." 
 
 THE RABBIT. 
 
 THE hare and the rabbit, though so very 
 nearly resembling each other in form and dis- 
 position, are yet distinct kinds, as they refuse 
 to mix with each other. Mr. Buffbn bred up 
 several of both kinds in the same place; but 
 from being at first indifferent, they soon be- 
 came enemies; and their combats were ge- 
 nerally continued until one of them was dis- 
 abled or destroyed. However, though these 
 experiments were not attended with success, 
 I am assured that nothing is more frequent 
 than an animal bred between these two, but 
 which, like the mule, is marked with sterility. 
 Nay, it has been actually known that the rab- 
 bit couples with animals of a much more dis- 
 tant nature ; and there is at present in the 
 Museum at Brussels, a creature covered with 
 feathers and hair, and said to be bred be- 
 tween a rabbit and a hen. The fecundity of 
 the rabbit is still greater than that of the hare; 
 and if we should calculate the produce from 
 a single pair in one year, the number would 
 be amazing. They breed seven times in a 
 year, and bring eight young ones each time. 
 On a supposition, therefore, that this happens 
 regularly, at the end of four years, a couple 
 of rabbits shall see a progeny of almost a 
 million and a half. From hence we must 
 justly apprehend being overstocked by their 
 increase; but, happily for mankind, their ene- 
 mies are numerous, and their nature inoffen- 
 sive; so that their destruction bears a near 
 proportion to their fertility. 
 
 But although their numbers be diminished 
 by every beast and bird of prey, and still 
 more by man himself, yet there is no danger 
 of their extirpation. The hare is a poor, de- 
 fenceless animal, that has nothing but its 
 swiftness to depend on for safety ; its num- 
 bers are, therefore, every day decreasing; 
 and in countries that are well peopled, the 
 
 * Yid. Apicii, &c. 
 
 species are so much kept under, that laws are 
 made for their preservation. Still, however, 
 it is most likely that they will be at last total- 
 ly destroyed ; and, like the wolf or the elk in 
 some countries, be only kept in remembrance. 
 But it is otherwise with the rabbit, its fecun- 
 dity being greater, and its means of safety 
 more certain. The hare seems to have more 
 various arts and instincts to escape its pur- 
 suers, by doubling, squatting, and winding; 
 the rabbit has but one art of defence alone, 
 but in that one finds safety; by making it- 
 self a hole, where it continues a great part of 
 the day, and breeds up its young; there it 
 continues secure from the fox, the hound, the 
 kite, and every other enemy. 
 
 Nevertheless, though this retreat be safe 
 and convenient, the rabbit does not seem to 
 be naturally fond of keeping there. It loves 
 the sunny field and the open pasture; it seems 
 to be a chilly animal, and dislikes the cold- 
 ness of its underground habitation. It is, 
 therefore, continually out, when it does not 
 fear disturbance ; and the female often brings 
 forth her young at a distance from the war- 
 ren, in a hole, not above a foot deep at the 
 most. There she suckles them for about a 
 month, covering them over with moss and 
 grass, whenever she goes to pasture, and 
 scratching them up at her return. It has been 
 said, indeed, that this shallow hole without 
 the warren, is made lest the male should at- 
 tack and destroy her young; but I have seen 
 the male himself attend the young there, 
 lead them out to feed, and conduct them 
 back upon the return of the dam. This ex- 
 ternal retreat seems a kind of country house, 
 at a distance from the general habitation; it 
 is usually made near some spot of excellent 
 pasture, or in the midst of a field of sprouting 
 corn. To this both male and female often re- 
 tire from the warren; lead their young by 
 night to the food which lies so convenient, 
 and, if not disturbed, continue there till they 
 are grown up. There they find a greater 
 variety of pasture than near the warren, 
 which is generally eaten bare ; and enjoy a 
 warmer sun, by covering themselves up in a 
 shallower hole. Whenever they are disturb- 
 ed, they then forsake their retreat of pleasure 
 for one of safety ; they fly to the warren with 
 their utmost speed ; and if the way be short, 
 
 3H 
 
350 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 there is scarce any dog, how swift soever, 
 that can overtake them. 
 
 But it does not always happen that these 
 animals are possessed of one of these external 
 apartments ; they most usually bring forth 
 their young in the warren, but always in a hole 
 separate from the male. On these occasions, 
 the female digs herself a hole, a different from 
 the ordinary one, by being more intricate ; at 
 the bottom of which she makes a more ample 
 apartment. This done, she pulls off from her 
 belly a good quantity of her hair, with which 
 she makes a kind of bed for her young. Dur- 
 ing the two first days she never leaves them ; 
 and does not stir out but to procure nourish- 
 ment, which she takes with the utmost des- 
 patch ; in this manner suckling her young for 
 near six weeks, until they are strong, and able 
 to go abroad themselves. During all this time, 
 the male seldom visits their separate apart- 
 ment ; but when they are grown up, so as to 
 come to the mouth of the hole, he then seems 
 to acknowledge them as his offspring, takes 
 them between his paws, smooths their skin, 
 and licks their eyes ; all of them, one after the 
 other, have an equal share in his caresses. 
 
 In this manner the rabbit, when wild, con- 
 sults its pleasuie and its safety : but those that 
 are bred up tame, do not take the trouble of 
 digging a hole, conscious of being already 
 protected. It has also been observed, 15 that 
 when people, to make a warren, stock it with 
 tame rabbits, these animals, having been unac- 
 customed to the art of scraping a hole, continue 
 exposed to the weather, and every other acci- 
 dent, without ever burrowing. Their immediate 
 offspring also are equally regardless of their 
 safety : and it is not till after two or three 
 generations, that these animals begin to find 
 the necessity and convenience of an asylum, 
 and practise an art which they could only 
 learn from nature. 
 
 Rabbits of the domestic breed, like all other 
 animals that are under the protection of man, 
 are of various colours ; white, brown, black, 
 and mouse-colour. The black are the most 
 scarce ; the brown, white, and mouse-colour, 
 are in greater plenty. Most of the wHd rab- 
 bits are of a brown, and it is the colour which 
 prevails among the species ; for in every nest 
 of rabbits, whether the parents be black or 
 
 Buflbn. 
 
 Ibid. 
 
 white, there are some brown ones found of the 
 number. But, in England, there are many 
 warrens stocked with the mouse-colour kinds, 
 which, some say, came originally from an 
 island in the river H umber, and which still 
 continue their original colour, after a great 
 number of successive generations. A gentlc- 
 man, c who bred up tame rabbits for his amuse- 
 ment, gives the following account of their pro- 
 duction : " I began," says he, " by having but 
 one male and female only ; the male was en- 
 tirely white, and the female brown ; but, in 
 their posterity, the number of the brown by far 
 exceeded those of any other colour : (here 
 were some white, some party-coloured, and 
 some black. It is surprising how much the 
 descendants were obedient and submissive to 
 their common parent ; he was easily distin- 
 guished from the rest by his superior \\ hitc- 
 ness ; and, however numerous (he other males 
 were, this kept them all in subjection. W hen- 
 ever they quarrelled among each other, either 
 for their females or provisions, as soon as he 
 heard the noise he ran up to them with all 
 despatch, and, upon his appearance, all was 
 instantly reduced to peace and order. If he 
 caught any of them in the fact, he instantly 
 punished them, as an example to the rest. 
 Another instance of his superiority was, that 
 having accustomed them to come to me with 
 the call of a whistle, the instant this signal was 
 given, I saw him marshalling them up, leading 
 them the foremost, and then suffering them all 
 to file off before him." 
 
 The rabbit,* 1 though less than the hare, 
 generally lives longer. As these animals pass 
 the greater part of their lives in their burrow, 
 where they continue at ease and unmolested, 
 they have nothing to prevent the regularity of 
 their health, or the due course of their nourish- 
 ment. They are, therefore, generally found 
 fatter than the hare ; but their flesh is, notwith- 
 standing, much less delicate. That of the old 
 ones, in particular, is hard, tough, and dry; but 
 it is said, that in warmer countries, they are bet- 
 ter tasted. This may very well be, as the 
 rabbit, though so very plentiful in Great 
 Britain and Ireland, is, nevertheless, a native 
 of the warmer climates: and has been origin- 
 ally imported into these kingdoms from Spain. 
 In that country, and in some of the islands in 
 
 Mr. Moutier, as quoted by Mr. Buffbn. 
 
 Ibid. 
 
THE HARE KIND. 
 
 351 
 
 the Mediterranean, we are told that they once 
 m i! ijilied in such numbers as to prove the 
 greatest nuisance to the natives. They at first 
 demanded military aid to destroy them ; but 
 soon after they called in the assistance of fer- 
 rets, which originally came from Africa, and 
 these, with much more ease and expedition, 
 contrived to lessen the calamity. In fact, 
 rabbits are found to love a warm climate, and 
 to be incapable of bearing the cold of the 
 north ; so that in Sweden they are obliged to 
 be littered in the houses. It is otherwise in all 
 the tropical climates, where they are extremely 
 common, and where they seldom burrow, as 
 with us. The English counties that are most 
 noted for these animals, are Lincolnshire, Nor- 
 folk, and Cambridgeshire. They delight in 
 grounds of a sandy soil, which are warmer than 
 those of clay ; and which also furnish a softer 
 and finer pasture. 
 
 The tame rabbits are larger than the wild 
 ones, from their taking more nourishment, and 
 using less exercise ; but their flesh is not so 
 good, being more insipid and softer. In order 
 to improve it, they are chiefly fed upon bran, 
 and are stinted in their water ; for if indulged 
 in too great plenty of moist food, they are apt, 
 as the feeders express it, to grow rotten. The 
 hair or fur is a very useful commodity, and is 
 employed in England for several purposes, as 
 well when the skin is dressed with it on, as 
 when it is pulled off. The skins, especially 
 the white, are used for lining clothes, and are 
 considered as a cheap imitation of ermine. 
 The skin of the male is usually preferred, as 
 being the most lasting, but it is coarser ; that 
 on the belly in either sex, is the best and finest. 
 But the chief use made of rabbit's fur, is in the 
 manufacture of hats ; it is always mixed, in 
 certain proportions, with the fur of the beaver ; 
 and it is said to give the latter more strength 
 and consistence. 
 
 The Syrian rabbit, like all other animals 
 bred in that country, is remarkable for the 
 length of its hair ; it falls along the sides in 
 wavy wreaths, and is, in some places, curled 
 at the end, like wool ; it is shed once a year 
 in large masses ; and it often happens that the 
 rabbit, dragging a part of its robe on the 
 ground, appears as if it had got another leg, or 
 a longer tail. There are no rabbits naturally 
 in America ; however, those that have been 
 carried from Europe, are found to multiply in 
 
 the West India islands in great abundance. 
 In other parts of that continent, they have ani- 
 mals that in some measure resemble the rab- 
 bits of Europe ; and which most European 
 travellers have often called hares or rabbit*, as 
 they happened to be large or small. Their 
 giving them even the name will be a sufficient 
 excuse for my placing them among animals of 
 the hare kind ; although they may differ in many 
 of the most essential particulars. But before 
 we go to the new continent, we will first ex- 
 amine such as bear even a distant resemblance 
 to the hare kind at home. 
 
 THE SQUIRREL. 
 
 THERE are few readers that are not so well 
 acquainted with the figure of a Squirrel as 
 that of the rabbit ; but supposing it unknown 
 to any, we might give them some idea of its 
 form, by comparing it to a rabbit, with shorter 
 ears, and a longer tail. The tail, indeed, is 
 alone sufficient to distinguish it from all others, 
 as it is extremely long, beautiful, and bushy, 
 spreading like a fan, and which, when thrown 
 up behind, covers the whole body. This 
 serves the little animal for a double purpose ; 
 when erected, it serves, like an umbrella, as a 
 secure protection from the injuries of the heat 
 and cold ; and when extended, it is very in- 
 strumental in promoting these vast leaps that 
 the squirrel takes from tree to tree ; nay, some 
 assert that it answers still a third purpose, and 
 when the squirrel takes to the water, which it 
 sometimes does upon a piece of bark, that its 
 tail serves it instead of a sail." 
 
 There are few wild animals in which there 
 are so many varieties as in the squirrel. The 
 common squirrel is of the size of a small rabbit, 
 and is rather of a more reddish brown. 
 
 The belly and breast are white ; and the 
 ears beautifully ornamented with long tufts of 
 hair, of a deeper colour than that on the body. 
 The eyes are large, black, and lively ; the legs 
 are short and muscular, like those of the rab- 
 bit ; but the toes longer, and the claws sharp- 
 er, so as to fit it for climbing. When it eats, 
 or dresses itself, it sits erect, like the hare or 
 rabbit, making use of its fore legs as hands ; 
 and chiefly resides in trees. The gray Vir- 
 
 Klein. Linnaeus. 
 
352 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 squirrel, which Mr. BufFon calls the petit 
 gris, is larger than a rabbit, and of a grayish 
 colour. Its body and limbs are thicker than 
 those of the common squirrel ; and its ears 
 are shorter, and without tufts at the point. 
 The upper part of the body, and external 
 part of the legs, are of a fine whitish gray, 
 with abeautiful red streak oneach side length- 
 ways. The tail is covered with very long 
 gray hair, variegated with black and white 
 towards the extremity. This variety seems 
 to be common to both continents; and in Swe- 
 den is seen to change colour in winter. The 
 Barbary squirrel, of which Mr. BufFon makes 
 three varieties, is of a mixed colour, between 
 red and black. Along the sides there are 
 white and brown lines, which render this ani- 
 mal very beautiful; but what still adds to its 
 elegance is, that the belly is of a sky blue, 
 surrounded with white. Some of these hold 
 up the tail erect ; and others throw it forward 
 over their body. The Siberian white squirrel 
 is of the size of a common squirrel. The 
 Carolina black squirrel is much bigger than the 
 former, and sometimes tipped with white at 
 all the extremities. The Brasilian squirrel, 
 which Mr. Buffbn calls the coquallin, is a beau- 
 tiful animal of this kind, and very remarkable 
 for the variety of its colours. Its belty is of 
 a bright yellow ; its head and body variegated 
 with white, black, brown, and orange colour. 
 It wants the tufts at the extremity of its ears ; 
 and does not climb trees, as most of the kind 
 are seen to do. To this list may be added 
 the little ground squirrel of Carolina, of a red- 
 dish colour, and blackish stripes on each side; 
 and like the former, not delighting in trees. 
 Lastly, the squirrel of New Spain, which is of 
 a deep iron-gray colour, with seven longitu- 
 dinal whitish streaks along the sides of the 
 male, and five along those of the female. As 
 for the flying squirrels, they are of a distinct 
 kind, and shall be treated of by themselves. 
 These, which I suppose to be but a few of the 
 numerous varieties of the squirrel, sufficiently 
 serve to show how extensively this animal is 
 diffused over all parts of the world. It is not 
 to be supposed, however, that every variety 
 is capable of sustaining every climate; for 
 few animals are so tender, or so little able to 
 endure a change of abode, as this. Those 
 bred in the tropical climates, will only live 
 
 near a warm sun; while, on the contrary, 
 the squirrel of Siberia will scarce'endure the 
 temperature of ours. These varieties do not 
 only differ in their constitutions and colour, 
 but in their dispositions also; for while some 
 live on the tops of trees, others feed, like rab- 
 bits, on vegetables below. Whether any of 
 these, so variously coloured, and so different- 
 ly disposed, would breed among each other, 
 we cannot tell : and since, therefore, we are 
 left in uncertainty upon this point, we are 
 at liberty either to consider each as distinct 
 species by itself; or only a variety, that ac- 
 cident might have originally produced, and 
 that the climate or soil might have continued. 
 For my own part, as the original character 
 of the squirrel is so strongly marked upon 
 them all, I cannot help considering them in 
 the latter point of view ; rather as the com- 
 mon descendants of one parent, than original- 
 ly formed with such distinct similitudes. 
 
 The squirrel is a beautiful little animal,' 
 which is but half savage ; and which, from 
 the gentleness and innocence of its manners, 
 deserves our protection. It is neither car- 
 nivorous nor hurtful : its usual food is fruits, 
 nuts, and acorns ; it is cleanly, nimble, active, 
 and industrious; its eyes are sparkling, and 
 its physiognomy marked with meaning. It 
 generally, like the hare and rabbit, sits up on 
 its hinder legs; and uses the fore paws as 
 hands ; these have five .claws or toes, as they 
 are called, and one of them is separated from 
 the rest like a thumb. This animal seems 
 to approach the nature of birds, from its light- 
 ness, and surprising agility on the tops of trees. 
 It seldom descends to the ground, except in 
 case of storm, but jumps from one branch to 
 another ; feeds, in spring, on the buds and 
 young shoots ; in summer, on the ripening 
 fruits ; and particularly the young cones of 
 the pine-tree. In autumn it has an extensive 
 variety to feast upon ; the acorn, the filbert, 
 I the chesnut, and the wilding. This season of 
 plenty, however, is not spent in idle enjoy- 
 ment; the provident little animal gathers at 
 that time its provisions for the winter; and 
 cautiously foresees the season when the forest 
 shall be stripped of its leaves and fruitage. 
 Its nest is generally formed among the large 
 
 a Button. 
 
THE HARE KIND. 
 
 353 
 
 branches of a great tree, where they begin to 
 fork off in small ones. After choosing the 
 place where the timber begins to decay, and 
 an hollow may the more easily be formed, 
 the squirrel begins by making a kind of a 
 level between the forks ; and then bringing 
 moss, twigs, and dry leaves, it binds them to- 
 gether with great art, so as to resist the most 
 violent storm. This is covered up on all 
 sides; and has but a single opening at top, 
 which is just large enough to admit the little 
 animal ; and this opening is itself defended 
 from the weather by a kind of canopy, made 
 in the fashion of a cone, so that it throws off 
 the rain, though never so heavy. The nest 
 thus formed, with a very little opening above, 
 is, nevertheless, very commodious and roomy 
 below ; soft, well knit together, and every way 
 convenient and warm. In this retreat the 
 little animal brings forth its young, shelters 
 itself from the scorching heat of the sun, 
 which it seems to fear, and from the storms 
 and inclemency of winter, which it is still less 
 capable of supporting. Its provision of nuts 
 and acorns is seldom in its nest, but in the 
 hollows of the tree, laid up carefully together, 
 and never touched but in cases of necessity. 
 Thus one single tree serves for a retreat and 
 a store-house; and without leaving it during 
 the winter, the squirrel possesses all those en- 
 joyments that its nature is capable of receiv- 
 ing. But it sometimes happens that its little 
 mansion is attacked by a deadly and power- 
 ful foe. The martin goes often in quest of a 
 retreat for its young, which it is incapable of 
 making for itself; for this reason it fixes upon 
 the nest of a squirrel, and, with double injus- 
 tice, destroys the tenant, and then takes pos- 
 session of the mansion. 
 
 However, this is a calamity that but seldom 
 happens: and, of all other animals, the squir- 
 rel leads the most frolicsome, playful life, 
 being surrounded with abundance, and having 
 few enemies to fear. They are in heat ear- 
 ly in the spring ; when, as a modern natural- 
 ist says," it is very diverting to see the female 
 feigning an escape from the pursuit of two or 
 three males, and to observe the various proofs 
 which they give of their agility, which is then 
 exerted in full force. Nature seems to have 
 
 British Zoology. 
 
 been particular in her formation of these ani- 
 mals for propagation: however, they seldom 
 bring forth above four or five young at a time; 
 and that but once a year. The time of their 
 gestation seems to be about six weeks; they 
 are pregnant in the beginning of April, and 
 bring forth about the middle of May. 
 
 The squirrel is never found in the open 
 fields, nor yet in copses or underwoods ; it 
 always keeps in the midst of the tallest trees, 
 and, as much as possible, shuns the habita- 
 tions of men. It is extremely watchful ; if the 
 tree in which it resides be but touched at the 
 bottom, the squirrel instantly takes the alarm, 
 quits its nest, at once flies off to another tree, 
 and thus travels, with great ease, along the 
 tops of the forest, until it finds itself perfect- 
 ly out of danger. In this manner it continues 
 for some hours at a distance from home, un- 
 til the alarm be past away ; and then it re- 
 turns, by paths, that to all quadrupeds but 
 itself, are utterly impassable. Its usual way 
 of moving is by bounds; these it takes from 
 one tree to another, at forty feet distance; 
 and if at any time it is obliged to descend, it 
 runs up the side of the next tree with ama- 
 zing facility. It has an extremely sharp pier- 
 cing note, which most usually expresses pain; 
 it has another, more like the purring of a cat, 
 which it employs when pleased ; at least it 
 appeared so in that from whence I have ta- 
 ken a part of this description. 
 
 In Lapland, and the extensive forests to the 
 north, the squirrels are observed to change 
 their habitation, and to remove in vast num- 
 bers from one country to another. In these 
 migrations they are generally seen by thou- 
 sands, travelling directly forward ; while nei- 
 ther rocks, forests, nor even the broadest wa- 
 ters can stop their progress. What I am 
 going to relate, appears so extraordinary, that 
 were it not attested by numbers of the most 
 credible historians, among whom are Klein 
 and Linnaeus, it might be rejected, with that 
 Bcorn with which we treat imposture or credu- 
 lity : however, nothing can be more true than, 
 that when these animals, in their progress, 
 meet with broad rivers, or extensive lakes, 
 which abound in Lapland, they take a very 
 extraordinary method of crossing them. Up- 
 on approaching the banks, and perceiving the 
 breadth of the water, they return, as if by com- 
 
354 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 raon consent, into the neighbouring forest, 
 each in quest of a piece of bark, which answers 
 all the purposes of boats for wafting them over. 
 When the whole company are fitted in this 
 manner, they boldly commit their little fleet to 
 the waves ; every squirrel sitting on its own 
 piece of bark, and fanning the air with its tail, 
 to drive the vessel to its desired port. In this 
 orderly manner they set forward, and often 
 cross lakes several miles broad. But it too 
 often happens that the poor mariners are not 
 aware of the dangers of their navigation ; for 
 although at the edge of the water it is generally 
 calm, in the midst it is always more turbulent. 
 There the slightest additional gust of wind 
 oversets the little sailor and his vessel together. 
 The whole navy, that but a few minutes before 
 rode proudly and securely along, is now over- 
 turned, and a shipwreck of two or three 
 thousand sail ensues. This, which is so un- 
 fortunate for the little animal, is generally the 
 most lucky accident in the world for the Lap- 
 lander on the shore ; who gathers up the dead 
 bodies as they are thrown in by the waves, 
 eats the flesh, and sells the skins for about a 
 shilling the dozen.' 
 
 The squirrel is easily tamed, and it is then 
 a very familiar animal. It loves to lie warm, 
 and will often creep into a man's pocket or his 
 bosom. It is usually kept in a box, and fed 
 with hazel nuts. Some find amusement in 
 observing with what ease it bites the nut open 
 and eats the kernel. In short, it is a pleasing 
 pretty little domestic ; and its tricks and habi- 
 tudes may serve to entertain a mind unequal 
 to stronger operations. 
 
 THE FLYING SQUIRREL. 
 
 Mr. RAY was justly of opinion that the Fly- 
 ing Squirrel might more properly be said to 
 be of the rat kind, because its fur is shorter 
 than in other squirrels, and its colours also 
 more nearly approach the former. However, 
 as mankind have been content to class it 
 among the squirrels, it is scarcely worth mak- 
 ing a new distinction in its favour. This 
 little animal, which is frequently brought over 
 to England, is less than a common squirrel and 
 bigger than a field mouse. Its skin is very 
 
 Oeuvres de Regnard. 
 
 soft, and elegantly adorned with a dnrk fur in 
 some places, and li^ht gray in others. It has 
 large prominent black and very sparkling eyes, 
 small ears, and very sharp teeth, with which 
 it gnaws any thing quickly. When it does 
 not leap, its tail, which is pretty enough, lies 
 close to its back ; but when it takes its spring, 
 the tail is moved backwards and forwards 
 from side to side. It is said to partake some- 
 what of the nature of the squirrel, of the rat, 
 and of the dormouse ; but that in which it is 
 distinguished from all other animals, is its pe- 
 culiar conformation for taking those leaps that 
 almost look like flying. It is, indeed, amazing 
 to see it at one bound dart above a hundred 
 yards from one tree to another. They are 
 assisted in this spring by a very peculiar forma- 
 tion of the skin that extends from the fore-feet 
 to the hinder ; so that when the animal 
 stretches its fore-legs forward and its hind-legs 
 backward, this skin is spread out between 
 them, somewhat like that between the legs of 
 a bat. The surface of the body being thus in- 
 creased, the little animal keeps buoyant in the 
 air until the force of its first impulsion is ex- 
 pired, and then it descends. This skin, when 
 the creature is at rest, or walking, continues 
 wrinkled upon its sides ; but when its limbs 
 are extended, it forms a kind of web between 
 them of above an inch broad on either side, 
 and gives the whole body the appearance of 
 a skin floating in the air. In this manner the 
 flying squirrel changes place, not like a bird, 
 by repeated strokes of its wings, but rather 
 like a paper kite, supported by the expansion 
 of the surface of its body ; but with this differ- 
 ence, however, that, being naturally heavier 
 than the air, instead of mounting it descends ; 
 and that jump, which upon the ground would 
 not be above forty yards, when from a higher 
 tree to a lower may be above a hundred. 
 
 This little animal is more common in 
 America than in Europe, but not very com- 
 monly to be seen in either. It is usually found, 
 like the squirrel, on the, tops of trees; but, 
 though better fitted for leaping, it is of a more 
 torpid disposition, and is seldom seen to exert 
 its powers ; so that it is often seized by the 
 polecat and the martin. It is easily tamed, 
 but apt to break away whenever it finds an 
 opportunity. It does not seem fond of nuts or 
 almonds, like other squirrels, hut is chiefly 
 pleased with the sprouts of the birch, and the 
 
THE HARE KIND. 
 
 355 
 
 cones of the pine. It is fed in its tame state 
 with bread and fruits ; it generally sleeps by 
 day, and is always most active by night. 
 Some naturalists gravely caution us not to let 
 it get among our corn fields, where, they tell 
 us, it will do a great deal of damage, by crop- 
 ping the corn as soon as it begins to ear ! a 
 
 THE MARMOUT. 
 
 FROM the description of the squirrel and its 
 varieties, we proceed to a diffi-rent tribe of 
 animals, no way indeed resembling the squirrel, 
 but still something like the rabbit and the hare. 
 We are to keep these two animals still in view 
 as the centre of our comparison ; as objects to 
 which many others may bear some similitude, 
 though they but little approach each other. 
 Among the hare kind is the Marmout, which 
 naturalists have placed either among the hare 
 kind or the rat kind, as it suited their respec- 
 tive systems. In fact, it bears no great re- 
 semblance to either ; but of the two it ap- 
 proaches much nearer the hare, as well in the 
 make of its head as in its size, in its bushy tail, 
 and particularly in its chewing the cud, which 
 alone is sufficient to determine our choice in 
 giving it its present situation. How it ever 
 came to be degraded into the rat or mouse I 
 cannot conceive, for it no way resembles them 
 in size, being near as big as a hare ; or in its 
 disposition, since no animal is more tractable 
 nor more easily tamed. 
 
 The marmout is, as was said, almost as big 
 as a hare, but it is more corpulent than a cat, 
 and has shorter legs. Its head pretty nearly 
 resembles that of a hare, except that its ears 
 are much shorter. It is clothed all over with 
 very long hair, and a shorter fur below. 
 These are of different colours, black and gray. 
 The length of the hair gives the body the ap- 
 pearance of greater corpulence than it really 
 has, and at the same time shortens the feet, so 
 that its belly seems touching the ground. Its 
 tail is tufted and well furnished with hair, and 
 it is carried in a straight direction with its body. 
 It has five claws behind, and only four before. 
 These it uses, as the squirrel does, to carry its 
 food to its mouth ; and it usually sits upon its 
 
 a He may easily be made tame; but he is apt to do a 
 greatdeal of damage in the corn fields, because he will crop 
 the corn as soon as it begins to ear. BROOKE'S NAT. HIST. 
 
 NO. 31 & 32. 
 
 hinder parts to feed, in manner of that little 
 animal. 
 
 The marmout is chiefly a native of the Alps ; 
 and when taken young is tamed more easily 
 than any other wild animal, and almost as 
 perfectly as any of those that arc domestic. 1 ' 
 It is readily taught to dance, to wield a cud- 
 gel, and to obey the voice of its master. Like 
 the cat, it has an antipathy to the dog ; and 
 when it becomes familiar to the family, and is 
 sure of being supported by its master, it attacks 
 and bites e.ven the largest mastiff. From its 
 squat, muscular make, it has great strength 
 joined to great agility. It has four large cut- 
 ting teeth, like all those of the hare kind, but 
 it uses them to much more advantage, since in 
 this animal they are very formidable weapons 
 of defence. However, it is in general a very 
 inoffensive animal ; and, except its enmity to 
 dogs, seems to live in friendship with every 
 creature, unless when provoked. If not pre- 
 vented, it is very apt to gnaw the furniture of 
 a house, and even to make holes through 
 vooden partitions ; from whence, perhaps, it 
 has been compared to the rat. As its legs are 
 very short, and made somewhat like those of 
 a bear, it is often seen sitting up, and even 
 walking on its hind legs in like manner ; but 
 with the fore-paws, as was said, it uses to feed 
 itself in the manner of a squirrel. Like all of 
 the hare kind, it runs much swifter up hill than 
 down ; it climbs trees with great ease, and 
 runs up the clifts of rocks or the contiguous 
 walls of houses with great facility. It is ludi- 
 crously said that the Savoyards, who are the 
 only chimney-sweepers of Paris, have learned 
 this art from the marmout, which is bred in 
 i; the same country. 
 
 These animals eat indiscriminately of what- 
 ever is presented to them ; flesh, bread, fruits, 
 herbs, roots, pulse, and insects. But they are 
 particularly fond of milk and butter. Although 
 less inclined to petty thefts than the cat, yet 
 they always try t steal into the dairy, where 
 they lap up the milk like a cat, purring all the 
 while like that animal, as an expression of 
 their being pleased. As to the rest, milk is 
 the only liquor they like. They seldom drink 
 water, and refuse wine. When pleased or 
 caressed, they often yelp like puppies ; but 
 
 b Buffon, from whence the remainder of this descrip- 
 tion is taken. N. B. He takes it from Gesner, vol 
 xvii. 
 
 SI 
 
336 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 when irritated or frighted, they have a pierc- 
 ing note that hurts the hear. They are very 
 cleanly animals, and like the cat retire upon 
 necessary occa *ions; but their bodies have 
 a disagreeable scent, particularly in the heat 
 of summer. This tinctures their flesh, which, 
 being very fat and firm, would be very good, 
 were not this flavour always found to predomi- 
 nate. 
 
 We have hitherto been describing affec- 
 tions in this animal which it has in common 
 with many others; but we now come to one 
 which particularly distinguishes it from all 
 others of this kind, and, indeed, from every 
 other quadruped, except the bat and the dor- 
 mouse: this is its sleeping during the winter. 
 The marmout, though a native of the highest 
 mountains, and where the snow is never 
 wholly melted, nevertheless seems to feel 
 the influence of the cold more than any other, 
 and in a manner has all its faculties chilled 
 up in winter. This extraordinary suspension 
 of life and motion for more than half the year, 
 deserves our wonder, and excites our atten- 
 tion to consider the manner of such a tempo- 
 rary death, and the subsequent revival. But 
 firstlo describe, before we attempt to discuss. 
 
 The marmout, usually at the end of Sep- 
 tember, or the beginning of October, prepares 
 to fit up its habitation for the winter, from 
 which it is never seen to issue till about the 
 beginning or the middle of April. This ani- 
 mal's little retreat is made with great precau- 
 tion, and fitted up with art. It is a hole on 
 the side of a mountain, extremely deep, with 
 a spacious apartment at the bottom, which is 
 rather longer than it is broad. In this seve- 
 ral marmouts can reside at the same time, 
 without crowding each other, or injuring the 
 air they breathe. The feet and claws of this 
 animal seem made for digging ; and, in fact, 
 they burrow into the ground with amazing 
 facility, scraping up the ear^h like a rabbit, 
 and throwing back what they have thus loose- 
 ned behind them. But the form of their hole 
 is still more wonderful ; it resembles the let- 
 ter Y ; the two branches being two openings, 
 which conduct into one channel and termi- 
 nates in their general apartment that lies at 
 the bottom. As the whole is made on the 
 declivity of a mountain, there is no part of it 
 on a level but the apartment at the end. One 
 
 of the branches or openings issues out, sloping 
 downwards; and this serves as a kind of sink 
 or drain to the whole family, where they make 
 their excrements, and where the moisture of 
 the place is drawn away. The other branch, 
 on the contrary, slopes upwards, and this 
 serves as their door upon which to go out 
 and in. The apartment at the end is very 
 warmly stuccoed round with moss and hay, 
 of both which they make an ample provision 
 during the summer. As this is a work of 
 great labour, so it is undertaken in common; 
 some cut the finest grass, others gather it, 
 and others take their turns to drag it into 
 their hole. Upon this occasion, as we are 
 told, one of them lies on its back, permits the 
 hay to be heaped upon its belly, keeps its 
 paws upright to make greater room; and in 
 this manner, laying still upon its back, it is 
 dragged by the tail, hay and all, to their com- 
 mon retreat. This also some give as a rea- 
 son for the hair being generally worn away 
 on their backs, as is usually the case; how- 
 ever, a better reason for this may be assign- 
 ed, for their continually rooting up holes, and 
 passing through narrow openings. But, be 
 this as it will, certain it is that they all live 
 together, and work in common to make their 
 habitation as snug and convenient as possible. 
 In it they pass three parts of their lives; into 
 it they retire when the storm is high; in it 
 they continue while it rains; there they re- 
 main when apprehensive of danger, and nevei 
 stir out except in fine weather, never going 
 far from home even then. Whenever they 
 venture abroad, one is placed as a sentinel, 
 sitting upon a lofty rock, while the rest amuse 
 themselves in playing along the green fields, 
 are employed in cutting grass and making 
 hay for their winter's convenience. Their 
 trusty sentinel, when an enemy, a man, a dog> 
 or a bird of prey approaches, apprizes its 
 companions with a whistle, upon which they 
 all make home, the sentinel himself bringing 
 up the rear. 
 
 But it must not be supposed that this hay 
 is designed for provision; on the contrary, it 
 is always found in as great plenty in their 
 holes at the end as at the beginning of win- 
 ter; it is only sought for the convenience of 
 their lodging, and the advantages of their 
 young. As to provision, they seem kindly 
 
THE HARE KIND. 
 
 357 
 
 apprized by nature that during the winter 
 they shall not want any, so that they make 
 no preparations for food, though so diligent- 
 ly employed in fitting up their abode. As 
 soon as they perceive the first approaches of 
 the winter, during which their vital motions 
 are to continue in some measure suspended, 
 they labour very diligently to close up the 
 two entrances of their habitation, which they 
 effect with such solidity, that it is easier to 
 dig up the earth any where else than where 
 they have closed it. At that time they are 
 very fat, and some of them are found to weigh 
 above twenty pounds ; they continue so for 
 even three months more ; but by degrees 
 their flesh begins to waste, and they are usu- 
 ally very lean by the end of winter. When 
 their retreat is opened, the whole family is 
 then discovered, each rolled into a ball, and 
 covered up under the hay. In this state they 
 seem entirely lifeless; they may be taken 
 away, and even killed without their testifying 
 any great pain; and those who find them in 
 this manner, carry them home in order to 
 breed up the young and eat the old ones. 
 A gradual and gentle warmth revives them; 
 but they would die if too suddenly brought 
 near the fire, or if their juices were too quick- 
 ly liquefied. 
 
 Strictly speaking, says Mr. Buffbn, these 
 animals cannot be said to sleep during the 
 winter; it may be called rather a torpor, a 
 stagnation of all the faculties." This torpor 
 is produced by the congelation of their blood, 
 which is naturally much colder than that of 
 all other quadrupeds. The usual heat of 
 man andotlaer animals is about thirty degrees 
 above congelation ; the heat of these is not 
 above ten degrees. Their internal heat is 
 seldom greater than that of the temperature 
 of the air. This has been often tried by plung- 
 ing the ball of the thermometer into the body 
 of a living dormouse, and it never rose beyond 
 its usual pitch in air, and sometimes it sunk 
 above a degree. It is not surprising, there- 
 fore, that these animals, whose blood is so 
 cold naturally, should become torpid, when 
 the external cold is too powerful for the small 
 quantity of heat in their bodies, yet remain- 
 ing ; and this always happens when the ther- 
 
 Button, vol. xvi. Loirs. 
 
 mometer is not more than ten degrees above 
 congelation. This coldness Mr. Buffbn has 
 experienced in the blood of the bat, the dor- 
 mouse, and the hedgehog, and with great 
 justice he extends the analogy to the marmout. 
 which, like the rest, is seen to sleep all the 
 winter. This torpid state continues as long 
 as the cause which produces it continues; 
 and it is very probable that it might be length- 
 ened out beyond its usual term, by artificially 
 prolonging the cold ; if, for instance, the ani- 
 mal were rolled up in wool, and placed in a 
 cold cellar, nearly approaching to, but not 
 quite so cold as an ice-house, for that would 
 kill them outright, it would remain perhaps 
 a whole year in its state of insensibility. 
 However this be, if the heat of the air be 
 above ten degrees, these animals are seen to 
 revive; and, if it be continued in that degree 
 of temperature, they do not become torpid, 
 but eat and sleep at proper intervals like all 
 other quadrupeds whatever. 
 
 From the above account we may form some 
 conception of the state in which these animals 
 continue during the winter. As in some dis- 
 orders where the circulation is extremely lan- 
 guid, the appetite is diminished in proportion, 
 so in these the blood scarcely moving, or only 
 moving in the greater vessels, they want no 
 nourishment to repair what is worn away by 
 its motions. They are seen, indeed, by slow 
 degrees to become leaner in proportion to 
 the slow attrition of their fluids; but this is 
 not perceptible, except at the end of some 
 months. Man is often known to gather nou- 
 rishment from the ambient air; and these also 
 may in some measure be supplied in the same 
 manner; arid, having sufficient motion in their 
 fluids to keep them from putrefaction, and 
 just sufficient nourishment to supply the waste 
 of their languid circulation, they continue ra 
 ther feebly alive than sleeping. 
 
 These animals produce but once a year, 
 and usually bring forth but three or four at 
 a time. They grow very fast, and the extent 
 of their lives is not above nine or ten years; 
 so that the species is neither numerous nor 
 very much diffused. They are chiefly found 
 in the Alps, where they seem to prefer the 
 brow of the highest mountains to the lowest 
 ranges, and the sunny side to that in the shade. 
 The inhabitants of the country where they 
 
358 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 chiefly reside, when they observe the hole, 
 generally stay till winter before they think 
 proper to open it ; for if they begin too soon, 
 the animal wakes, and as it has a surprising 
 faculty of digging, makes its hole deeper in 
 proportion as they follow. Such as kill it for 
 food, use every art to improve the flesh, which 
 is said to have a wild taste, and to cause 
 vomitings." They, therefore, take away the 
 fat, which is in great abundance, and salt the 
 remainder, drying it somewhat in the manner 
 of bacon. Still, however, it is said to be very 
 indifferent eating. This animal is found in 
 Poland under the denomination of the boback, 
 entirely resembling that of the Alps, except 
 that the latter has a toe more upon its fore- 
 foot than the former. It is found also in Siberia 
 under the name of the jevraska, being rather 
 smaller than either of the other two. Lastly, 
 it is found in Canada by the appellation of the 
 monax, differing only from the rest in having 
 a bluish snout and a longer tail. 
 
 THE AGOUTI. 
 
 FROM the marmout, which differs from the 
 hare so much in the length of its fur, we go to 
 the Agouti, another species equally differing in 
 the shortness of its hair. These bear some rude 
 resemblance to the hare and the rabbit in their 
 form and manner of living, but sufficiently 
 differing to require a particular description. 
 The first of these, and that the largest, as was 
 hinted above, is called the agouti. This ani- 
 mal is found in great abundance in the sou- 
 thern parts of America, and has by some been 
 called the rabbit of that continent. But, though 
 in many respects it resembles the rabbit, yet 
 still in many more it differs, and is, without 
 all doubt, an animal peculiar to the new world 
 only. The agouti is about the size of a rabbit, 
 and has a head very much resembling it, ex- 
 cept that the ears are very short in comparison. 
 It resembles the rabbit also in the arched form 
 of its back, in the hind legs being longer than 
 the fore, and in having four great cutting teeth, 
 two above and two below ; but then it differs 
 in the nature of its hair, which is not soft and 
 downy as in the rabbit, but hard and bristly 
 like that of a sucking pig, and of a reddish 
 
 Dictionaire Raisonee, voL iii. p. 29. 
 
 brown colour. It differs also in the tail, which 
 is even shorter than in the rabbit, and entirely 
 destitute of hair. Lastly, it differs in the 
 number of its toes, having but three on the 
 hinder feet, whereas the rabbit has five. AH 
 these distinctions, however, do not countervail 
 against its general form, which resembles that 
 of a rabbit, and most travellers have called it 
 by that name. 
 
 As this animal differs in form, it differs still 
 more in habitudes and disposition. As it has 
 the hair of a hog, so also it has its voracious- 
 ness. 1 ' It eats indiscriminately of all things ; 
 and, when satiated, hides the remainder, like 
 the dog or the fox, for a future occasion. It 
 takes a pleasure in gnawing and spoiling every 
 thing it comes near. When irritated, its hair 
 stands erect along the back, and, like the rab- 
 bit, it strikes the ground violently with its hind 
 feet. It does not dig a hole in the ground, 
 but burrows in the hollows of trees. Its 
 ordinary food consists of the roots of the coun- 
 try, potatoes and yams, and such fruits as fall 
 from the trees in autumn. It uses its fore- 
 paws, like the squirrel, to carry its food to its 
 mouth : and as its hind feet are longer than 
 the fore, it runs very swiftly upon plain ground 
 or up a hill, but upon a descent it is in danger 
 of falling. Its sight is excellent, and its hear- 
 ing equals that of any other animal ; whenever 
 it is whistled to, it stops to hearken. The 
 flesh of such as are fat and well fed is tolerable 
 food, although it has a peculiar taste, and is a 
 little tough. The French dress it like a suck- 
 ing pig, as we learn from Mr. Buffon's account ; 
 but the English dress it with a pudding in its 
 belly, like a hare. It is hunted by dogs ; and 
 whenever it has got into a sugar-ground, 
 where the canes cover the place, it is easily 
 overtaken, for it is embarrassed every step it 
 takes, so that a man may easily come up with 
 it without any other assistance. When in the 
 open country, it usually runs with great swift- 
 ness before the dogs until it gains its retreat, 
 within which it continues to hide, and nothing 
 but filling the hole with smoke can force it out. 
 For this purpose, the hunter burns faggots or 
 straw at the entrance, and conducts the smoke 
 in such a manner that it fills the whole cavity. 
 While this is doing, the poor little animal seems 
 sensible of its danger, and begs for quarter 
 
 t> Buffon. ' 
 
THE HARE KIND. 
 
 359 
 
 with a most plaintive cry, seldom quitting its 
 hole till the utmost extremity. At last, when 
 half suffocated, it issues out, and trusts once 
 more to its speed for protection. When still 
 forced by the dogs, and incapable of making 
 good a retreat, it turns upon the hunters, and 
 with its hair bristling like a hog, and standing 
 upon its hind feet, it defends itself very obsti- 
 nately. Sometimes it bites the legs of those 
 that attempt to take it, and will take out the 
 piece wherever it fixes its teeth." 
 
 Its cry when disturbed or provoked resem- 
 bles that of a sucking pig. If taken young, it 
 is easily tamed, continues to play harmlessly 
 about the house, and goes out and returns of 
 its own accord. In a savage state it usually 
 continues in the woods, and the female gene- 
 rally chooses the most obscure parts to bring 
 forth her young. She there prepares a bed of 
 leaves and dry grass, and generally brings 
 forth two at a time. She breeds twice or 
 thrice a year, and carries her young from one 
 place to another, as convenience requires, in 
 the manner of a cat. She generally lodges 
 them, when three days old, in the hollow of a 
 tree, suckling them but a very short time, for 
 they soon come to perfection, and it should 
 consequently follow that they soon grow old. 
 
 THE PACA. 
 
 THE Paca is an animal also of South 
 America, very much resembling the former, 
 and like it has received the name of the Ameri- 
 can rabbit, but with as little propriety. It is 
 about the size of a hare, or rather larger, and 
 in figure somewhat like a sucking pig, which 
 it also resembles in its grunting and its manner 
 of eating. It is, however, most like the agouti, 
 although it differs in several particulars. 
 Like the agouti, it is covered rather with coarse 
 hair than a downy fur. But then it is beauti- 
 fully marked along the sides with small ash- 
 coloured spots, upon an amber coloured 
 ground ; whereas the agouti is pretty much of 
 one reddish colour. The paca is rather more 
 thick and corpulent than the agouti ; its nose 
 is shorter, and its hind feet have five toes ; 
 whereas the agouti has but three. As to the 
 rest, this animal bears some distant resem- 
 
 Ray's Synop. 
 
 blance to a rabbit, the ears are naked of hair, 
 and somewhat sharp, the lower jaw is some- 
 what longer than the upper, the teeth, the 
 shape of the head, and the size of it, are like 
 to those of a rabbit. It has a short tail like- 
 wise, though not tufted ; and its hinder legs 
 are longer than the fore. It also burrows in 
 the ground like that animal, and from this 
 similitude alone travellers might have given it 
 the name. 
 
 The paca does not make use of its fore- 
 paws, like the squirrel or the agouti, to carry 
 its food to the mouth, but hunts for it on the 
 ground, and roots like a hog. It is generally 
 seen along the banks of rivers, and is only to 
 be found in the moist and warm countries of 
 South America. It is a very fat animal, and 
 in this respect much preferable to the agouti, 
 that is most commonly found lean. It is eaten 
 skin and all, like a young pig, and is consider- 
 ed as a great delicacy. Like the former little 
 animal, it defends itself to the last extremity, 
 and is very seldom taken alive. It is perse- 
 cuted not only by man, but by every beast and 
 bird of prey, who all watch its motions, and, 
 if it ventures at any distance from its hole, are 
 sure to seize it. But although the race of these 
 little animals is thus continually destroyed, it 
 finds some refuge in its hole, from the general 
 combination ; and breeds in such numbers, 
 that the diminution is not perceptible. 
 
 To these animals may be added others, very 
 similar, both in form and disposition ; each 
 known by its particular name in its native 
 country, but which travellers have been con- 
 tented to call rabbits or hares ; of which we 
 have but indistinct notice. The TAPETI, or the 
 BRASILIAN RABBIT, is in shape like our English 
 ones, but is much less, being said to be not 
 above twice the size of a dormouse. It is 
 reddish on the forehead, and a little whitish 
 under the throat. It is remarkable for having 
 no tail ; but it has long ears and whiskers, like 
 our rabbits, and black eyes. It does not bur- 
 row, like ours ; but lives at large like the hare. 
 The APEREA is also called by some the BRA- 
 SILIAN RABBIT, being an animal that seems to 
 partake of the nature of a rabbit and a rat. 
 The ears are like those of a rat, being short 
 and round ; but the other parts are like those 
 of a rabbit, except that it has but three toes on 
 the hinder legs like the agouti. 
 
 To these imperfect sketches of animals little 
 
360 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 known, others less known might be added ; 
 ibr as nature becomes more diminutive, her 
 operations are less attentively regarded. I 
 shall only, therefore, add one animal more to 
 this class, and that very well known ; I mean 
 the Guinea-pig; which Brisson places among 
 those of the rabbit kind ; and as I do not 
 know any other set of animals with which it 
 can be so well compared, I will take leave 
 to follow his example. 
 
 THE GUINEA-PIG. 
 
 THE Guinea-pig is a native of the warmer 
 climates; but has been so long rendered do- 
 mestic, and so widely diffused, that it has now 
 become common in every part of the world. 
 There are few unacquainted with the figure 
 of this little animal ; in some places it is con- 
 sidered as the principal favourite; and is 
 often found even to displace the lap-dog. It 
 is less than a rabbit, and its legs are shorter; 
 they are scarce seen, except when it moves ; 
 and the neck also is so short, that the head 
 seems stuck upon the shoulders. The ears 
 are short, thin, and transparent; the hair is 
 like that of a sucking-pig, from whence it has 
 taken the name ; and it wants even the ves- 
 tiges of a tail. In other respects, it has some 
 similitude to the rabbit. When it moves, its 
 body lengthens like that animal; and when 
 it is at rest, it gathers np in the same man- 
 ner. Its nose is formed with the rabbit lip, 
 except that its nostrils are much farther asun- 
 der. Like all other animals in a domestic 
 state, its colours are different; some are white, 
 some are red, and others both red and white. 
 It differs from the rabbit in the number of its 
 toes, having four toes on the feet before, and 
 but three on those behind. It strokes its 
 -head with the fore feet, like the rabbit; and, 
 like it, sits upon the hind feet; for which pur- 
 pose there is a naked callous skin on the back 
 part of the legs and feet. 
 
 These animals are, of all others, the most 
 helpless and inoffensive." They are scarce 
 possessed of courage sufficient to defend them- 
 ?elves against the meanest of all quadrupeds, 
 
 This history is partly taken from the Amaenitates 
 Academieir, vol. iv. p. 202. 
 
 a mouse. Their only animosity is exerted 
 against each other; for they will cften fight 
 very obstinately ; and the stronger is often 
 known to destroy the weaker. But against 
 all other aggressors, their only remedy is pa- 
 tience and non-resistance. How, therefore, 
 these animals in a savage state could con- 
 trive to protect themselves, I have not been 
 able to learn; as they want strength, swiftness, 
 and even the natural instinct so common to 
 almost every other creature. 
 
 As to their manner of living among us, they 
 owe their lives entirely to our unceasing pro- 
 tection. They must be constantly attended, 
 shielded from the excessive colds of the win- 
 ter, and secured against all other domestic 
 animals, which are apt to attack them, from 
 every motive, either of appetite, jealousy, or 
 experience of their pusillanimous nature. 
 Such, indeed, is their stupidity, that they suf- 
 fer themselves to be devoured by the cats 
 without resistance; and, differing from all 
 other creatures, the female sees her young 
 destroyed without once attempting to protect 
 them. Their usual food is bran, parsley, or 
 cabbage leaves ; but there is scarce a vege- 
 table cultivated in our gardens that they will 
 not gladly devour. The carrot top is a pe- 
 culiar dainty ; as also salad ; and those who 
 would preserve their healths, would do right 
 to vary their food ; for if they be continued 
 on a kind too succulent or too dry, the effects 
 are quickly perceived upon their constitu- 
 tions. When fed upon recent vegetables, 
 they seldom drink. But it often happens that, 
 conducted by nature, they seek drier food, 
 when the former disagrees with them. They 
 then gnaw clothes, paper, or whatever of this 
 kind they meet with; and on these occasions 
 they are seen to drink like most other ani- 
 mals, which they do by lapping. They are 
 chiefly fond of new milk; but in case of ne- 
 cessity, are content with water. 
 
 They move pretty much in the manner of 
 rabbits, though not near so swiftly; and when 
 confined in a room, seldom cross the floor, 
 but generally keep along the wall. The male 
 usually drives the female on before him, for 
 they never move a-breast together, but con- 
 stantly the one seems to tread in the foot- 
 steps of the preceding. They chiefly seek 
 for the darkest recesses, and the most intri- 
 
THE HARE KIND 
 
 361 
 
 cate retreats ; where, if hay be spread as a 
 bed for them, they continue to sleep together, 
 and seldom venture out but when they sup- 
 pose all interruption removed. On these oc- 
 casions they act as rabbits ; they swiftly move 
 forward from their bed, stop at the entrance, 
 listen, look round, and if they perceive the 
 slightest approach of danger, they run back 
 with precipitation. In very cold weather, 
 however, they are more active, and run about 
 in order to keep themselves warm. 
 
 They are a very cleanly animal, and very 
 different from those whose name they go by. 
 [f the young ones happen to fall into the dirt, 
 or be any other way discomposed, the female 
 takes such an aversion to them, that she never 
 permits them to visit her more. Indeed, her 
 whole employment, as well as that of the male,, 
 seems to consist in smoothing their skins, in 
 disposing their hair, and improving its gloss. 
 The male and female takes this office by turns; 
 and when they have thus brushed up each 
 other, they then bestow all their concern upon 
 their young, taking particular care to make 
 their hair lie smooth, and biting them if they 
 appear refractory. As they are so solicitous 
 for elegance themselves, the place where they 
 are kept must be regularly cleaned, and a 
 new bed of hay provided for them at least 
 every week. Being natives of a warm climate, 
 they are naturally chilly in ours ; cleanliness, 
 therefore, assists warmth, and expels moisture. 
 They may be thus reared, without the aid of 
 any artificial heat ; but, in general, there is 
 no keeping them from the Tire in winter, if 
 they be once permitted to approach it. 
 
 When they go to sleep, they lie flat on 
 their bellies, pretty much in their usual pos- 
 ture ; except that they love to have their fore 
 feet higher than their hinder. For this pur- 
 pose they turn themselves several times round 
 before they lie down, to find the most con- 
 venient situation. They sleep like the hare, 
 with their eyes half open; and continue ex- 
 tremely watchful, if they suspect danger. 
 The male and female are never seen both 
 asleep at the same time; but while he enjoys 
 his repose, she remains upon the watch, si- 
 lently continuing to guard him, and her head 
 turned towards the place where he lies. 
 When she supposes that he has had his turn, 
 she then awakes him with a kind of murmur- 
 
 ing noise, goes to him, forces him from his 
 bed, and lies down in his place. He then 
 performs the same good turn for her; and 
 continues watchful till she also has done 
 sleeping. 
 
 These animals are exceedingly salacious, 
 and generally are capable of coupling at six 
 weeks old. The female never goes with 
 young above five weeks; and usually brings 
 forth from three to five at a time; and this 
 not without pain. But what is very extraor- 
 dinary, the female admits the male the very 
 day she has brought forth, and becomes again 
 pregnant; so that their multiplication is as- 
 tonishing. She suckles her young but about 
 twelve or fifteen days; and during that time 
 does not seem to know her own ; for if the 
 young of any other be brought, though much 
 older, she never drives them away, but suf- 
 fers them even to drain her, to the disadvan- 
 tage of her own immediate offspring. They 
 are produced with the eyes open, like all 
 others of the hare kind ; and in about twelve 
 hours, equal even to the dam in agility. Al- 
 though the dam has but two teats, yet she 
 abundantly supplies them with milk; and 
 they are also capable of feeding upon vege- 
 tables, almost from the very beginning. If 
 the young ones are permitted to continue to- 
 gether, the stronger, as in all other societies, 
 soon begins to govern the weak. Their con- 
 tentions are often long and obstinate; and 
 their jealousies very apparent. Their dis- 
 putes are usually for the warmest place, or 
 the most agreeable food. If one of them hap- 
 pens to be more fortunate in this respect than 
 the rest, the strongest generally comes to 
 dispossess it of its advantageous situation. 
 Their manner of fighting, though terrible 
 to them, is ridiculous enough to a spectator. 
 One of them seizes the hair on the nape of 
 the other's neck with its fore teeth, and at- 
 tempts to tear it away; the other, to retaliate, 
 turns its hinder parts to the enemy, and kicks 
 up behind like a horse, and with its hinder 
 claws scratches the sides of its adversary ; 
 so that sometimes they cover each other with 
 blood. When they contend in this manner, 
 they gnash their teeth pretty loudly, and this 
 is often a denunciation of mutual resentment. 
 
 These, though so formidable to each other T 
 yet are the most timorous creatures upon earth, 
 
362 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 with respect to the rest of Animated Nature : 
 a falling leaf disturbs them, and every animal 
 overcomes them. From hence they are diffi- 
 cultly tamed ; and will suffer none to approach 
 them, except the person by whom they are fed. 
 Their manner of eating is something like that 
 of the rabbit; and, like it, they appear also to 
 chew the cud. Although they seldom drink, 
 they make water every minute. They grunt 
 somewhat like a young pig ; and have a more 
 piercing note to express pain. In a word, 
 they do no injury ; but then, except the plea- 
 
 sure they afford the spectator, they are of very 
 little benefit to mankind. Some, indeed, dress 
 and eat them; but their flesh is indifferent 
 food, and by no means a reward for the trouble 
 of rearing them. This, perhaps, might be 
 improved, by keeping them in a proper warren, 
 and not suffering them to become domestic : 
 however, the advantages that would result 
 from this, would be few, and the trouble great; 
 so that it is likely they would continue an use- 
 less, inoffensive dependent, rather propagated 
 to satisfy caprice than to supply necessity. 
 
THE RAT KIND. 
 
 363 
 
 ANIMALS OF THE RAT AND HEDGEHOG KINDS. 
 
 CHAPTER LIU. 
 
 THE RAT KIND. 
 
 WERE it necessary to distinguish animals 
 of the rat kind from all others, we might de- 
 scribe them as having two large cutting teeth, 
 like the hare kind, in each jaw ; as covered 
 with hair; and as not ruminating. These 
 distinctions might serve to guide us, had we 
 not too near an acquaintance with this nox- 
 ious race to be mistaken in their kind. Their 
 numbers, their minuteness, their vicinity, their 
 Fast multiplication, all sufficiently contribute 
 to press them upon our observation, and remind 
 us of their existence. Indeed, if we look 
 through the different ranks of animals, from 
 the largest to the smallest, from the great 
 elephant to the diminutive mouse, we shall 
 find that we suffer greater injuries from the 
 contemptible meanness of the one, than the 
 formidable invasions of the other. Against 
 the elephant, the rhinoceros, or the lion, we 
 can oppose united strength ; and by art make 
 up the deficiencies of natural power: these 
 we have driven Into their native solitudes, 
 and obliged to continue at a distance, in the 
 most inconvenient regions and unhealthful 
 climates. But it is otherwise with the little 
 teasing race I am now describing ; no force 
 can be exerted against their unresisting 
 timidity : no arts can diminish their amazing 
 propagation; millions may beat once destroy- 
 ed, and yet the breach be repaired in the 
 space of a very few weeks ; and, in propor- 
 tion as nature has denied them force, it has 
 supplied the defect by their fecundity. 
 
 THE GREAT RAT. 
 
 THE animal best known at present, and in 
 every respect the most mischievous, is the 
 
 NO. 31 & 32. 
 
 GREAT RAT ; which, though but a new comer 
 into this country, has taken too secure a pos- 
 session to be ever removed. This hateful 
 and rapacious creature, though sometimes 
 called the rat of Norway, is utterly unknown 
 in all the northern countries, and, by the best 
 accounts I can learn, comes originally from 
 the Levant. Its first arrival, as I am assured, 
 was upon the coasts of Ireland, in those ships 
 that traded in provisions to Gibraltar; and 
 perhaps we owe to a single pair of these ani- 
 mals, the numerous progeny that now infests 
 the whole extent of the British Empire. 
 
 This animal, which is called by Mr. Buffbn 
 the surmalot, is in length about nine inches ; 
 its eyes are large and black ; the colour of 
 the head, and the whole upper part of the 
 body, is of a light brown, mixed with a tawny 
 and ash colour. The end of the nose, the 
 throat, and belly, are of a dirty white, inclin- 
 ing to gray ; the feet and legs are almost 
 bare, and of a dirty pale flesh colour; the tail 
 is as long as the body, covered with minute 
 dusky scales mixed with a few hairs, and adds 
 to the general deformity of its detestable 
 figure. It is chiefly in the colour that this 
 animal differs from the black rat, or the com- 
 mon rat, as it was once called : but now com- 
 mon no longer. This new invader, in a very 
 few years after its arrival, found means to de- 
 stroy almost the whole species, and to possess 
 itself of their retreats. 
 
 But it was not against the black rat alone 
 that its rapacity was directed ; all other ani- 
 mals of inferior strength shared the same mis- 
 fortunes. The contest with the black rat was 
 of short continuance. As it Was unable to 
 contend, and had no holes to fly to for retreat, 
 but where its voracious enemy could pursue, 
 
 3K 
 
ANIMALS OP 
 
 the whole race was soon extinguished. The 
 frog also was an animal equally incapable of 
 combat or defence. It had been designedly 
 introduced into the kingdom of Ireland some 
 years before the Norway rat ; and it was seen 
 to multiply amazingly. The inhabitants 
 were pleased with the propagation of a harm- 
 less animal, that served to rid their fields of 
 insects; and even the prejudices of the 
 people were in its favour, as they supposed 
 that the frog contributed to render their 
 waters more wholesome. But the Norway 
 rat soon put a stop to their increase ; as these 
 animals were of an amphibious nature, they 
 pursued the frog to its lakes, and took it even 
 in its own natural element. I am, therefore, 
 assured, that the frog is once more almost ex- 
 tinct in that kingdom ; and that the Norway 
 rat, having no more enemies left there to de- 
 stroy, is grown less numerous also. 
 
 We are not likely, therefore, to gain by the 
 destruction of our old domestics, since they 
 are replaced by such mischievous successors. 
 The Norway rat has the same disposition to 
 to injure us, with much greater power of mis- 
 chief. It burrows in the banks of rivers, 
 ponds, and ditches ; and is every year known 
 to do incredible damage to those mounds 
 that are raised to conduct streams, or to pre- 
 vent rivers from overflowing. In these holes, 
 which it forms pretty near the edge of the 
 water, it chiefly resides during the summer, 
 where it lives upon smaH animals, fish, and 
 corn. At the approach of winter, it comes 
 nearer the farm houses ; burrows in their 
 corn, eats much, and damages still more than 
 it consumes. But nothing that can be eaten 
 seems to escape its voracity. It destroys 
 rabbits, poultry, and all kinds of game ; and, 
 like the pole-cat, kills much more than it can 
 carry away. It swims with great ease, dives 
 with great celerity, and easily thins the fish- 
 pond. In short, scarce any of the feebler 
 animals escape its rapacity, except the mouse, 
 which shelters itself in its little hole, where 
 the Norway rat is too big to follow. 
 
 These animals frequently produce from 
 fifteen to thirty at a time ; a and usually bring 
 forth three times a year. This great increase 
 would quickly be found to over-run the whole 
 
 a Billion, vol. xvii. p. 2. 
 
 country, and render our assiduity to destroy 
 them fruitless, were it not, happily for us, that 
 they eat and destroy each other. The same 
 insatiable appetite that impels them to indis- 
 criminate carnage, also incites the strongest 
 to devour the weakest, even of their own kind. 
 The large male rat generally keeps in a hole 
 by itself, and is dreaded by its own species, 
 as the most formidable enemy. In this man- 
 ner the number of these vermin is kept within 
 due bounds; and when their increase be- 
 comes injurious to us, it is repressed by their 
 own rapacity. 
 
 But beside their own enmities among each 
 other, all the stronger carnivorous quadru- 
 peds have natural antipathies against them. 
 The dog, though he detests their flesh, yet 
 openly declares his alacritv to pursue them ; 
 and attacks them with great animosity. Such 
 as are trained up to killing these vermin, de- 
 spatch them often with a single squeeze : 
 but those dogs that show any hesitation, are 
 sure to come off* but indifferently ; for the rat 
 always takes the advantage of a moment's de- 
 lay, and instead of waiting for the attack, be- 
 comes the aggressor, seizing its pursuer by 
 the lip, and inflicting a very painful and dan- 
 gerous wound. From the inflammation, and 
 other angry symptoms that attend this ani- 
 mal's bite, some have been led to think that 
 it was in some measure venomous ; but it is 
 likely that the difficulty of the wound's heal- 
 ing, arises merely from its being deep and 
 lacerated by the teeth, and is rather a con- 
 sequence of the figure of the instruments that 
 inflict it, than any venom they may be sup- 
 posed to possess. 
 
 The cat is another formidable enemy of 
 this kind ; and yet the generality of our cats 
 neither care to attack it, nor to feed upon it 
 when killed. The cat is a more prudent 
 hunter than the dog, and will not be at the 
 pains to take or combat with an enemy that 
 is not likely to repay her time and danger. 
 Some cats, however, will pursue and take the 
 rat ; though often not without an obstinate 
 resistance. If hungry, the cat will sometimes 
 eat the head; but, in general, she is merely 
 content with her victory. 
 
 A foe much more dangerous to these ver- 
 min is the weasel. This animal pursues them 
 with avidity, and being pretty nearly. of their 
 
THE RAT KIND. 
 
 365 
 
 own size, follows them into their holes, where 
 a desperate combat ensues. The strength of 
 each is pretty near equal ; but the arms are 
 very different. The rat, furnished with four 
 long tusks at the extremity of its jaw, rather 
 snaps than bites; but the weasel, where it 
 once fastens, holds, and continuing also to 
 suck the blood at the same time, weakens its 
 antagonist, and always obtains the victory. 
 Mankind have contrived several other me- 
 thods of destroying these noxious intruders; 
 ferrets, traps, and particularly poison ; but 
 of all other poisons, I am told' that the nox 
 vomica, ground and mixed with meal, is 
 the most certain, as it is the least danger- 
 ous. 
 
 To this species I will subjoin, as a variety, 
 the BLACK RAT. mentioned above, greatly re- 
 sembling the former in figure, but very dis- 
 tinct in nature, as appears from their mutual 
 antipathy. This animal was formerly as mis- 
 chievous as it was common ; but at present 
 it is almost utterly extirpated by the great 
 rat, one malady often expelling another. It 
 is become so scarce, that I do not remember 
 ever to have seen one. It is said to be pos- 
 sessed of all the voracious and unnatural ap- 
 petites of the former: though, as it is less, 
 they may probably be less noxious. Its 
 length is about seven inches; and the tail 
 is near eight inches long. The colour of the 
 body is of a deep iron gray, bordering upon 
 black, except the belly, which is of a dirt}' 
 cinereous hue. They have propagated in 
 America in great numbers, being originally 
 introduced from Europe; and as they seem 
 to keep their ground wherever they get foot- 
 ing, they are now become the most noxious 
 animals in that part of the world. 
 
 To this also we may subjoin the Black Wa- 
 ter Rat, about the same size with the latter, 
 with a larger head, a blunter nose, less eyes, 
 and shorter ears, and the tip of its tail a lit- 
 tle white. It was supposed by Ray to be 
 web-footed ; but this has been found to be a 
 mistake, its toes pretty much resembling 
 those of its kind. It never frequents houses; 
 but is usually found on the banks of rivers, 
 ditches, and ponds, where it burrows and 
 breeds. It feeds on fish, frogs, and insects; 
 and in some countries it is eat on fasting 
 days. 
 
 THE MOUSE. 
 
 AN animal equally mischievous, and equal- 
 ly well known with the former, is the Mouse. 
 Timid, cautious, and active, all its disposi- 
 tions are similar to those of the rat, except 
 with fewer powers of doing mischief." Fear- 
 ful by nature, but familiar from necessity, it 
 attends upon mankind, and comes an unbid- 
 den guest to his most delicate entertainments. 
 Fear and necessity seem to regulate all its 
 motions; it never leaves its hole but to seek 
 provision, and seldom ventures above a few 
 paces from home. Different from the rat, 
 it does not go from one house to another, un- 
 less it be forced ; and as it is more easily sa- 
 tisfied, it does much less mischief. 
 
 Almost all animals are tamed more difficult- 
 ly in proportion to the coward ice of their na- 
 tures. The truly bold and courageous easily 
 become familiar, but those that are always 
 fearful are ever suspicious. The mouse being 
 the most feeble, and consequently the most 
 timid of all quadrupeds, except the Guinea- 
 pig, is never rendered thoroughly familiar; 
 and, even though fed in a cage, retains its 
 natural apprehensions. In fact, it is to these 
 alone that it owes its security. 1 " No animal 
 has more enemies, and few so incapable of 
 resistance. The owl, the cat, the snake, the 
 hawk, the weasel, the rat itself, destroy this 
 species by millions, and it only subsists by 
 its amazing fecundity. 
 
 The mouse brings forth at all seasons, and 
 several times in a year. Its usual number 
 is from six to ten. These, in less than a fort- 
 night are strong enough to run about and 
 shift for themselves. They are chiefly found 
 in farmers' yards, and among their corn, but 
 are seldom in those ricks that are much in- 
 fested with rats. They generally choose the 
 south-west side of the rick, from w hence most 
 rain is expected ; and from thence they often, 
 of an evening, venture forth to drink the lit- 
 tle drops either of rain or dew that hangs at 
 the extremities of thestraw. c Aristotle gives 
 us an idea of their prodigious fecundity, by 
 assuring us, that having put a mouse with 
 
 a Buflbn, vol. xv. p. 145. b E volucribus hirundines 
 sunt indociles, e terrestibus mures. PLIN. c Buflbn, 
 vol. xv. p. 147. 
 
 8K* 
 
3U6 
 
 ANIMALS OP 
 
 young into a vessel of corn, in some time af- 
 ter he found a hundred and twenty mice, all 
 sprung from one original. The early growth 
 of this animal implies also the short duration 
 of its life, which seldom lasts above two or 
 three years. This species is very much dif- 
 fused, being found in almost all parts of the 
 ancient continent, and having been exported 
 to the new. 1 They are animals that, while 
 they fear human society, closely attend it; 
 and, although enemies to man, are never found 
 but near those places where he has fixed his 
 habitation. Numberless ways have been 
 found for destroying them ; and Gesner has 
 minutely described the variety of traps by 
 which they are taken. Our Society for the 
 Encouragement of Arts and Manufactures 
 proposed a reward for the most ingenious 
 contrivance lor that purpose : and I observ- 
 ed almost every candidate passing off de- 
 scriptions as inventions of his own. I thought 
 it was cruel to detect the plagiarism, or frus- 
 trate the humble ambition of those who would 
 be thought the inventors of a mouse-trap. 
 
 To this species, merely to avoid teazing the 
 reader with a minute description of animals 
 very inconsiderable and very nearly alike, 
 I will add that of the LONG-TAILED FIELD MOUSE, 
 which is larger than the former, of a colour 
 very nearly resembling the Norway rat, and 
 ehiefly found in fields and gardens. They 
 are extremely voracious, and hurtful in gar- 
 dens and young nurseries, where they are 
 killed in great numbers. However, their fe- 
 cundity quickly repairs the destruction. 
 
 Nearly resembling the former, but larger, 
 (for it is six inches long,) is the SHORT-TAILED 
 KIK.I-I) MOUSE ; which, as its name implies, has 
 the tail much shorter than the former, it being 
 not above an inch and a half long, and ending 
 in a small tuft. Its colour is more inclining 
 to that of the domestic mouse, the upper part 
 being blackish, and the under of an ash- 
 colour. This, as well as the former, are re- 
 markable for laying up provision against win- 
 ter; and Mr. Button assures us they some- 
 times have a store of above a bushel at a 
 time. 
 
 We may add also the SHREW MOUSE to this 
 species of minute animals, being about the 
 
 * Lisle's Husbandry, voL ii, p. 391. 
 
 size of the domestic mouse, but differing great- 
 ly from it in t!;e form ot its nose, which is very 
 long and slender. The teeth also are of a 
 very singular form, and twenty-eight in num- 
 ber; whereas the common number in the rat 
 kind is usually not above sixteen. The two 
 upper fore teeth are very sharp, and on each 
 side of them there is a kind of wing or beard, 
 like that of an arrow, scares visible but on a 
 close inspection. The other teeth are placed 
 close together, being very small, and seeming 
 scarce separated; so that Avith respect to 
 this part of its formation, the animal has some 
 resemblance to the viper. However, it is a 
 very harmless little creature, doing scarce 
 any injury. On the contrary, as it lives chief- 
 ly in the fields, and feeds more upon insects 
 than corn, it may be considered rather as a 
 friend than an enemy. It has a strong, dis- 
 agreeable smell, so that the cat, when it is 
 killed, will refuse to eat it. It is said to bring 
 four or five young at a time. 
 
 THE DORMOUSE. 
 
 THESE animals may be distinguished into 
 three kinds; the GREATER DORMOUSE, which 
 Mr. Button calls the LOIR; the MIDDLE, which 
 he calls the LEROT; the LESS, which he deno- 
 minates the MUSCARDIN. They differ from 
 each other in size, the largest being equal to 
 a rat, the least being no bigger than a mouse. 
 They all differ from the rat in having the 
 tail tufted with hair, in the manner of a squir- 
 rel, except that the squirrel's tail is flat, re- 
 sembling a fan ; and theirs round, resembling 
 a brush. The lerot differs from the loir by 
 having two black spots near the eyes; the 
 muscardin differs from both in the whitish 
 colour of its hair on the back. They all three 
 agree in having black sparkling eyes, and the 
 whiskers partly white and partly black. 
 They agree in their being stupefied, like the 
 marmout, during the winter, and in their 
 hoarding up provisions to serve them in case 
 of a temporary revival. 
 
 They inhabit the woods or very thick 
 hedges, forming their nests in the hollow of 
 some tree, or near the bottom of a close shrub, 
 humbly content with continuing at the bot- 
 tom, and never aspiring to sport, among the 
 
l.Trichechus Rosmarus ArcticWalrus orMorse.2.T.Manatus (vartorealis : Mauatus . 3.PliocaUisina.lirsiii Seal 
 4.P.Giwnla]uJica Harp Seal.^.P.^tuliiia Common Seal or Sea Calf. G.P.Maculata. Spotted 
 
THE RAT KIND. 
 
 367 
 
 branches. Towards the approach of the cold 
 season, they form a little magazine of nuts, 
 beans, or acorns ; and having laid in their 
 hoard, shut themselves up with it for the winter. 
 As soon as they feel the first advances of the 
 cold, they prepare to lessen its effect, by rolling 
 themselves up in a ball, and thus exposing the 
 smallest surface to the weather. But it often 
 happens that the warmth of a sunny day, or 
 an accidental change from cold to heat, thaws 
 their nearly stagnant fluids, and they revive. 
 On such occasions they have their provisions 
 laid in, and they have not far to seek for their 
 support. In this manner they continue usually 
 asleep, but sometimes waking, for about five 
 months in the year, seldom venturing from 
 their retreats, and, consequently, but rarely 
 seen. Their nests are lined with moss, grass, 
 and dead leaves; they usually bring forth three 
 or four young at a time, and that but once a 
 year, in the spring. 
 
 THE MUSK RAT. 
 
 OF these animals of the rat kind, but with 
 a musky smell, there are also three distinctions, 
 as of the former ; the ONDATRA, the DESMAN, 
 and the PILORI. The ondatra is a native of 
 Canada, the desman of Lapland, and the pilori 
 of the West India Islands. The ondatra 
 differs from all others of its kind, in having the 
 tail flatted and carried edge-v/ays. The des- 
 man has a long extended snout, like the shrew- 
 mouse ; and the pilori a short tail, as thick at 
 one end as the other. They all resemble each 
 other in being fond of the water, but particu- 
 larly in that musky odour from whence they 
 have taken their name. 
 
 Of these, the ONDATRA is the most remark- 
 able, and has been the most minutely describ- 
 ed. 1 This animal is about the size of a small 
 rabbit, but has the hair, the colour, and the 
 tail of a rat, except that it is flatted on the 
 sides, as mentioned above. But \t is still more 
 extraordinary upon other accounts, and differ- 
 ent from all other animals whatever. It is so 
 formed that it can contract and enlarge its 
 body at pleasure. It has a muscle like that of 
 horses, by which they move their hides, lying 
 immediately under the skin, and that furnish- 
 
 Bufibn, vol. xx. p. 4. 
 
 ed wkh such a power of contraction, together 
 with such an elasticity in the false ribs, that 
 this animal can creep into a hole where others, 
 seemingly much less, cannot follow. The fe- 
 male is remarkable also for two distinct aper- 
 tures, one for urine, the other for propagation. 
 The male is equally observable for a peculi- 
 arity of conformation ; the musky smell is 
 much stronger at one particular season of the 
 year than any other ; and the marks of the sex 
 seem to appear and disappear in the same 
 manner. 
 
 The ondatra in some measure resembles the 
 beaver in its nature and disposition. They 
 both live in society during winter ; they both 
 form houses of two feet and a half wide, in 
 which they reside several families together. 
 In these they do not assemble to sleep as the 
 marmout, but purely to shelter themselves from 
 the rigour of the season. However, they do not 
 lay up magazines of provision like the beaver; 
 they only form a kind of covert-way to and 
 round their dwelling, from \vhence thev issue 
 to procure water and roots, upon which they 
 subsist. During winter their houses are cover- 
 ed under a depth of eight or ten feet of snow ; 
 so that they must lead but a cold, gloomy, and 
 necessitous life, during its continance. During 
 summer they separate two by two, and feed 
 upon the variety of roots and vegetables that 
 the season offers. They then become ex- 
 tremely fat, and are much sought after, as well 
 for their flesh as their skins, which are very 
 valuable. They then also acquire a very 
 strong scent of musk, so pleasing to an Euro- 
 pean, but which the savages of Canada can- 
 not abide. What we admire as a perfume, 
 they consider as a most abominable stench, 
 and call one of their rivers, on the banks of 
 which this animal is seen to burrow in num- 
 bers, by the name of the stinking river, as well 
 as the rat itself, which is denominated by them 
 the stinkard. This is a strange diversity 
 among mankind; and, perhaps, may be ascrib- 
 ed to the different kinds of food among differ- 
 ent nations. Such as chiefly feed upon rancid 
 oils, and putrid flesh, will often mistake the 
 nature of scents ; and, having been long used 
 to ill smells, will, by habit, consider them as 
 perfumes. Be this as it will, although these 
 nations of northern savages consider the musk 
 rat as intolerably foetid, they nevertheless re- 
 gard it as very good eating, and, indeed, in 
 
368 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 this they imitate the epicures of Europe very 
 exactly, whose taste seldom relishes a dish till 
 the nose gives the strongest marks of disappro- 
 bation, ^s to the rest, this animal a good 
 deal resembles the beaver in its habits and dis- 
 position ; but, as its instincts are less powerful, 
 and its economy less exact, I will reserve for 
 the description of that animal a part of what 
 may be applicable to this. 
 
 THE CRICETUS. 
 
 THE Cricetus, or German Rat, which Mr. 
 Buffon calls the hamster, greatly resembles the 
 water rat in its size, small eyes, and the short- 
 ness of its tail. It differs in colour, being 
 rather browner, like the Norway rat, with the 
 belly and legs of a dirty yellow. But the 
 marks by which it may be distinguished from 
 all others are two pouches, like those of a 
 baboon, on each side of its jaw, under the skin, 
 into which it can cram a large quantity of 
 provision. These bags are oblong, and of 
 the size, when filled, of a large walnut. They 
 open into the mouth, and fall back along the 
 neck to the shoulder. Into these the animal 
 can thrust the surplus of those fruits or grains 
 it gathers in the fields, such as wheat, peas, or 
 acorns. When the immediate calls of hunger 
 are satisfied, it then falls to filling these ; and 
 thus loaded with two great bunches on each 
 side of the jaw, it returns home to its hole to 
 deposite the spoil as a store for the winter. 
 The size, the fecundity, and the voraciousness 
 of this animal, render it one of the greatest 
 pests in the countries where it is found, and 
 every method is made use of to destroy it. 
 
 But although this animal is very noxious 
 with respect to man, yet, considered with re- 
 gard to those instincts which conduce to its 
 
 ' own support and convenience, it deserves our 
 admiration. 3 Its hole offers a very curious 
 object for contemplation, and shows a degree 
 of skill superior to the rest of the rat kind. It 
 consists of a variety of apartments, fitted up 
 for the different occasions of the little inhabit- 
 
 , ant. It is generally made on an inclining 
 ground, and always has two entrances, one 
 perpendicular, and the other oblique ; though, 
 if there be more than one in a family, there 
 
 Buffon, vol. xxvi. p. 159. 
 
 are as many perpendicular holes as there are 
 individuals below. The perpendicular hole is 
 usually that through which they go in and out: 
 the oblique serves to give a thorough air to keep 
 the retreat clean, and, in case one hole is 
 stopped, to give an exit at this. Within about 
 a foot of the perpendicular hole, the animal 
 makes two more, where are deposited the 
 family's provisions. These are much more 
 spacious than the former, and are large in pro- 
 portion to the quantity of the store. Beside 
 these, there is still another apartment, warmly 
 lined with grass and straw, where the female 
 brings forth her young ; all these communicate 
 with each other, and all together take up a 
 space of ten or twelve feet in diameter. These 
 animals furnish their store-houses with dry 
 corn, well cleaned ; they also lay in corn in 
 the ear, and beans and peas in the pod. 
 These, when occasion requires, they afterwards 
 separate, carrying out the pods and empty ears 
 by their oblique passage. They usually begin 
 to lay in at the latter end of August; and, as 
 each magazine is filled, they carefully cover 
 up the mouth with earth, and that so neatly, 
 that it is no easy matter to discover where the 
 earth has been removed. The only means of 
 finding out their retreats are, therefore, to ob- 
 serve the oblique entrance, which generally 
 has a small quantity of earth before it ; and 
 this, though often several yards from their per- 
 pendicular retreat, leads those that are skilled 
 in the search to make the discovery. Many 
 German peasants are known to make a liveli- 
 hood by finding out and bringing off their 
 hoards, which, in a fruitful season, often 
 furnish two bushels of good grain in each 
 apartment. 
 
 Like most others of the rat kind, they pro- 
 duce twice or thrice a year, and bring five or 
 six at a time. Some years they appear in 
 alarming numbers, at other times they are not 
 so plentiful. The moist seasbns assist their 
 propagation ; and it often happens on such 
 years that their devastations produce a famine 
 all over the country. Happily, however, for 
 mankind, these, like the rest of their kind, de- 
 stroy each other; and of two that Mr. Buffon 
 kept in a cage, male and female, the latter kill- 
 ed and devoured the former. As to the rest, 
 their fur is considered as very valuable ; the 
 natives are invited by rewards to destroy 
 them ; and the weasel kind seconds the wishes 
 
THE RAT KIND. 
 
 369 
 
 of government with great success. Although 
 they are usually found brown on the back 
 and white on the belly, yet many of them are 
 observed to be gray, which may probably 
 arise from the difference of age. 
 
 THE LEMING. 
 
 HAVING considered various kinds of these 
 noxious little animals that elude the indigna- 
 tion of mankind, and subsist by their number, 
 not their strength, we come to a species more 
 bold, more dangerous, and more numerous 
 than any of the former. The leming, which 
 is a native of Scandinavia, is often seen to 
 pour down in myriads from the northern 
 mountains, and, like a pestilence, destroys all 
 the productions of the earth. It is described 
 as being larger than a dormouse, with a bushy 
 tail, though shorter. It is covered with thin 
 hair of various colours. The extremity of the 
 upper part of the head is black, as are like- 
 wise the neck and shoulders, but the rest of 
 the body is reddish, intermixed with small 
 black spots of various figures, as far as the 
 tail, which is not above half an inch long. 
 The eyes are little and black, the ears round 
 and inclining towards the back, the legs 
 before are short, and those behind longer, 
 which gives it a great degree of swiftness. 
 But what it is much more remarkable for 
 than its figure are, its amazing fecundity and 
 extraordinary migrations. 
 
 In wet seasons, all of the rat kind are 
 known to propagate more than in dry ; but 
 this species in particular is so assisted in 
 multiplying by the moisture of the weather, 
 that the inhabitants of Lapland sincerely be- 
 lieve that they drop from the clouds, and that 
 the same magazines that furnish hail and 
 snow pour the leming also upon them. In 
 fact, after long rain, these animals set forward 
 from their native mountains, and several 
 millions in a troop deluge the whole plain 
 with their numbers." They move, for the 
 most part, in a square, marching forward by 
 night, and lying still by day. Thus, like an 
 animated torrent, they are often een more 
 than a mile broad covering * v 6 round, and 
 
 Phil. Trans, vol ii. p. 872. 
 
 that so thick that the hindmost touches its 
 leader. It is in vain that the poor inhabitant 
 resists or attempts to stop their progress, they 
 still keep moving forward, and though thou- 
 sands are destroyed, myriads are seen to suc- 
 ceed and make their destruction impracti- 
 cable. They generally move in lines, which 
 are about three feet from each other, and ex- 
 actly parallel. Their march is always direct- 
 ed from the north-west to the south-east, and 
 regularly conducted from the beginning. 
 Wherever their motions are turned, nothing 
 can stop them; they go directly forward, 
 impelled by some strange power ; and, from 
 the time they first set out, they never once 
 think of retreating. If a lake or a river hap- 
 pens to interrupt their progress, they all to- 
 gether take the water and swim over it; a fire, 
 a deep well, or a torrent, does not turn them 
 out of their straight-lined direction; they 
 boldly plunge into the flames, or leap down 
 the well, and are sometimes seen climbing up 
 on the other side. If they are interrupted by 
 a boat across a river while they are swimming, 
 they never attempt to swim round it, but 
 mount directly up its sides ; and the boatmen, 
 who know how vain resistance in such a case 
 would be, calmly suffer the living torrent to 
 pass over, which it does without further dam- 
 age. If they meet with a stack of hay or corn 
 that interrupts their passage, instead of going 
 over it, they gnaw their way through ; if they 
 are stopped by a house in their course, if 
 they cannot go through it, they continue there 
 till they die. It is happy, however, for man- 
 kind that they eat nothing that is prepared for 
 human subsistence; they never enter a house 
 to destroy the provisions, but are contented 
 with eating every root and vegetable that 
 they meet. If they happen to pass through a 
 meadow, they destroy it in a very short time, 
 and give it an appearance of being burnt up 
 and strewed with ashes. If they are inter- 
 rupted in their course, and a man should im- 
 prudently venture to attack one of them, the 
 little animal is no way intimidated by the 
 disparity of strength, but furiously flies up at 
 its opponent, and, barking somewhat like a 
 puppy, wherever it fastens does not easily 
 quit the hold. If at last the leader be forced 
 out of its line, which it defends as long as it 
 can, and be separated from the rest of its 
 
370 
 
 ANIMALS OP 
 
 kind, it sets up a plaintive cry, different from 
 that of anger, and, as some pretend to say, 
 gives itself a voluntary death, by hanging it- 
 self on the fork of a tree. 
 
 An enemy so numerous and destructive 
 would quickly render the countries where 
 they appear utterly uninhabitable, did it not 
 fortunately happen that the same rapacity 
 that animates them to destroy the labours of 
 mankind, at last impels them to destroy and 
 devour each other. a After committing incre- 
 dible devastations, they are at last seen to 
 separate into two armies, opposed with dead- 
 ly hatred, along the coast of the larger lakes 
 and rivers. The Laplanders, who observe 
 them thus drawn up to fight, instead of con- 
 sidering their mutual animosities as a hap- 
 py riddance of the most dreadful pest, form 
 ominous prognostics from the manner of their 
 arrangement. They consider their combats 
 as a presage of war, and expect an invasion 
 from the Russians or the Swedes, as the sides 
 next those kingdoms happen to conquer. The 
 two divisions, however, continue their en- 
 gagements and animosity until one party over- 
 comes the other. From that time they ut- 
 terly disappear, nor is it well known what 
 becomes 01 either the conquerors or the con- 
 quered. Some suppose that they rush head- 
 long into the sea, others that they kill them- 
 selves, as some are found hanging on the 
 forked branches of a tree, and others still 
 that they are destroyed by the young spring 
 herbage. But the most probable opinion is, 
 that, having devoured the vegetable produc- 
 tions of the country, and having nothing more 
 to subsist on, they then fall to devouring each 
 other; and, having habituated themselves to 
 that kind of food, continue it. However this 
 be, they are often found dead by thousands, 
 and their carcasses have been known to in- 
 fect the air for several miles round, so as to 
 produce very malignant disorders. They 
 seem also to infect the plants they have gnaw- 
 ed, for the cattle often die that afterwards 
 feed in the places where they passed. 
 
 As to the rest, the male is larger and more 
 beautifully spotted than the female. They 
 are extremely prolific ; and, what is extraor- 
 dinary, their breeding does not hinder their 
 
 * Dictionalre I'aUonee, vol. ii. p. GlO. 
 
 march ; for some of them haTe been observ- 
 ed to carry one young one in their mouth 
 and another on their back. They are great- 
 ly preyed upon by the ermine, and, as we 
 are told, even by the rein-deer. The Swedes 
 and Norwegians, who live by husbandry, 
 consider an invasion from these vermin as a 
 terrible visitation ; but it is very different 
 with respect to the Laplanders, who lead a 
 vagrant life, and who, like the lemings them- 
 selves, if their provisions be destroyed in one 
 part of the country, can easily retire to ano- 
 ther. These are never so happy as when an 
 army of lemings come down amongst them ; 
 for then they least upon their flesh ; which, 
 though horrid food, and which, though even 
 dogs and cats are known to detest, these 
 little savages esteem very good eating, and 
 devour greedily. They are glad of their ar- 
 rival also upon another account, for they al- 
 ways expect a great plenty of game the year 
 following, among those fields which the le- 
 mings have destroyed. 
 
 THE MOLE. 
 
 To these minute animals of the rat kind, 
 a great part of whose lives is past in holes 
 under ground, I will subjoin one little ani- 
 mal more, no way resembling the rat, except 
 that its whole life is spent there. As we have 
 seen some quadrupeds formed to crop the 
 surface of the fields, and others to live upon 
 the tops of trees, so the mole is formed to live 
 wholly under the earth, as if nature meant 
 that no place should be left wholly untenant- 
 ed. Were we from our own sensations to 
 pronounce upon the life of a quadruped that 
 was never to appear above ground, but was 
 always condemned to hunt for its prey under- 
 neath, obliged, whenever it removed from one 
 place to another, to bore its way through a 
 resisting body, we should be apt to assert 
 that such an existence must be the most 
 frightful and solitary in nature. However, 
 in the present animal, though we find it con- 
 demned to all those seeming inconveniences, 
 we shall discover no signs of wretchedness or 
 distress. No quadruped is fatter, none has 
 a more sleek or glossy skin ; and, though de- 
 nied many advantages that most animals en- 
 
THE RAT KIND. 
 
 371 
 
 joy, it is most liberally possessed of others, 
 which they have in a more scanty proportion. 
 This animal, so well known in England, is, 
 however, utterly a stranger in other places, 
 and particularly in Ireland. For such, there- 
 fore, as have never seen it, a short descrip- 
 tion will be necessary. And, in the first 
 place, though somewhat of a size between 
 the rat and the mouse, it no way resembles 
 either, being an animal entirely of a singular 
 'cind, and perfectly unlike any other quadru- 
 ped whatever. It is bigger than a mouse, 
 with a coat of fine, short, glossy, black hair. 
 Its nose is long and pointed, resembling that 
 of a hog, but much longer. Its eyes are so 
 small, that it is scarce possible to discern 
 them. Instead of ears, it has only holes, in 
 the place. Its neck is so short, that the head 
 seems stuck upon the shoulders. The body 
 is thick and round, terminating by a very 
 small short tail, and its legs also are so very 
 short, that the animal seems to lie flat on its 
 belly. From under its belly, as it rests in 
 this position, the four feet appear just as if 
 they immediately grew out of the body. 
 Thus the animal appears to us at first view 
 as a mass of flesh covered with a fine, shining, 
 black skin, with a little head, and scarce 
 any legs, eyes, or tail. On a close inspec- 
 tion, however, two little black points may be 
 discerned, that are its eyes. The ancients, 
 and some of the moderns, were of opinion 
 that the animal was utterly blind ; but Der- 
 ham, by the help of a microscope, plainly dis- 
 covered all the parts of the eye that are 
 known iu other animals, such as the pupil, 
 the vitreous and crystalline humours. The 
 fore legs appear very short and strong, and 
 furnished with five claws to each. These 
 are turned outwards and backwards, as the 
 hands of a man when swimming. The hind 
 legs are longer and weaker than the fore, 
 being only used to assist its motions ; where- 
 as the others are continually employed in 
 digging. The teeth are like those of a shrew- 
 mouse, and there are five on both sides of 
 the upper jaw, which stand out; but those 
 behind are divided into points. The tongue 
 is as large as the mouth will hold. 
 
 Such is the extraordinary figure and for- 
 mation of this animal; which, if we compare 
 with its manner of living, we shall find a ma- 
 No. 31 &32. 
 
 nifest attention in nature to adapt the one to 
 the other." As it is allotted a subterraneous 
 abode, the seeming defects of its formation 
 vanish, or rather are turned to its advantage. 
 The breadth, strength, and shortness of the 
 fore feet, which are inclined outwards, an- 
 swer the purposes of digging, serving to throw 
 back the earth with greater case, and to pur- 
 sue the worms and insects which arc its prey: 
 had they been longer, the falling in of the 
 earth would have prevented the quick repe- 
 tition of its strokes in vorking; or have oblig- 
 ed it to make a large hole in order to give 
 room for their exertion. The form of the 
 body is not less admirably contrived for its 
 way of life. The fore part is thick, and very 
 muscular, giving great strength to the action 
 of the fore feet, enabling it to dig its way 
 with amazing force and rapidity either to pur- 
 sue its prey, or elude the search of the most 
 active enemy. By its power of boring the 
 earth, it quickly gets below the surface ; and 
 I have seen it, when let loose in the midst of 
 a field, like the ghost on a theatre, instantly 
 sink into the earth; and the most active la- 
 bourer, with a spade, in vain attempted to 
 pursue. 
 
 The smallness of its eyes, which induced 
 the ancients to think it was blind, is, to this 
 animal, a peculiar advantage. A small de- 
 geee of vision is sufficient for a creature that 
 is ever destined to live in darkness. A more 
 extensive sight would only have served to 
 show the horrors of its prison, while nature 
 had denied it the means of an escape. Had 
 this organ been larger, it would have been 
 perpetually liable to injuries, by the falling 
 of the earth into it; but nature, to prevent 
 that inconvenience, has not only made them 
 very small, but very closely covered them 
 with hair. Anatomists mention, beside these 
 advantages, another that contributes to their 
 security ; namely, a certain muscle, by which 
 the animal can draw back the eye whenever 
 it is necessary or in danger. 
 
 As the eye is thus perfectly fitted to the 
 animal's situation, so also are the senses ot 
 hearing and smelling. The first gives it no- 
 tice of the n;ost distant appearance of dan- 
 ger ; the other directs it, in the midst of dark- 
 
 British Zoology. 
 
 3L 
 
S72 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 ness, to its food. The wants of a subterrane- 
 ous animal can be but few : and these are suf- 
 ficient to supply them : to eat, and to produce 
 its kind, are the \vholeemployment of such a 
 life ; and for both these purposes it is wonder- 
 fully adapted by nature/ 
 
 Thus admirably is this animal fitted for a 
 life of darkness and solitude ; with no appe- 
 tites but what it can easily indulge, with no 
 enemies but what it can easily evade or con- 
 quer. As soon as it has once buried itself in 
 the earth, it seldom stirs out, unless forced by 
 violent rains in summer, or when in pursuit of 
 its prey, it happens to come too near the sur- 
 face, and thus gets into the open air, which 
 may be considered as its unnatural element. 
 In general, it chooses the looser, softer grounds, 
 beneath which it can travel with greater ease ; 
 in such also, it generally finds the greatest 
 .number of worms and insects, upon which it 
 chiefly preys. It is observed to be most active, 
 and to cast up most earth, immediately before 
 rain ; and, in winter, before a thaw : at those 
 times the worms and insects begin to be in mo- 
 tion : and approach the surface, whither this 
 industrious animal pursues them. On the con- 
 trary, in very dry weather, the mole seldom or 
 never forms any hillocks ; for then it is oblig- 
 ed to penetrate deeper after its prey, which at 
 such seasons retire far into the ground. 
 
 As the moles very seldom come above 
 ground, 1 " they have few enemies ; and very 
 readily evade the pursuit of animals stronger 
 and swifter than themselves. Their greatest 
 calamity is an inundation ; which, wherever 
 it happens, they are seen in numbers attempt- 
 ing to save themselves by swimming, and 
 using every effort to reach the higher grounds. 
 The greatest part, however, perish, as well as 
 their young, which remain in the holes behind. 
 Were it not for such accidents, from their great 
 fecundity, they would become extremely trou- 
 blesome ; and, as it is, in some places, they 
 are considered by the farmer as his greatest 
 pest. They couple towards the approach of 
 spring ; and their young are found about the 
 beginning of May. They generally have four 
 
 a Testes habet maximos, parastatas amplissimas, novum 
 corpus seminale ab his diversum ac separatum. Penem 
 ptiam facile omnium, in fallor, animalium longissimum, ex 
 quibus colligere est maximam prae reliquis omnibus animali- 
 bus voluptatem in coitu, hoc abjectum et vile animalculum 
 pereipere ut habeant quod ipsi invideant qui in hoc supremaa 
 
 or five at a time ; and it is easy to distinguish 
 among other mole-hills, that in which the fe- 
 male has brought forth her young. These are 
 made with much greater art than the rest ; 
 and are usually larger. The female, in order 
 to form this retreat, begins by erecting the 
 earth into a tolerable spacious apartment, 
 which is supported within by partitions, at 
 proper distances, that prevent the roof from 
 Jailing. All round this she works, and heats 
 the earth very firm, so as to make it capable 
 of keeping out the rain, let it be never so vio- 
 lent. As the hillock, in which this apartment 
 is thus formed, if raised above ground, the 
 apartment itself is consequently above the level 
 of the plain, and, therefore, less subject to ac- 
 cidental slight inundations. The place being 
 thus fitted, she then procures grass and dry 
 leaves as a bed for her young. There they 
 lie secure from wet, and she continues to make 
 their retreat equally so from danger; for all 
 round this hill of her own raising, are holes 
 running into the earth, that part from the mid- 
 dle apartment, like rays from a centre, and 
 extend about fifteen feet in every direction : 
 these resemble so many walks or chases, into 
 which the animal makes her subterraneous 
 excursions, and supplies her young with such 
 roots or insects as she can provide: but they 
 contribute still more to the general safety ; for 
 as the mole is very quick of hearing, the in- 
 stant she perceives her little habitation attacked, 
 she takes to her burrow, and unless the earth 
 be dug away by several men at once, she and 
 her young always make a good retreat. 
 
 The mole is scarcely found, except in culti- 
 vated countries : the varieties are but few. 
 That which is found in Virginia, resembles the 
 common mole, except in colour, which is black, 
 mixed with a deep purple. There are some- 
 times white moles, seen particularly in Poland, 
 rather larger than the former. As their skin is 
 so very soft and beautiful, it is odd that it has 
 not been turned to any advantage. Agricola 
 tells us, that he saw hats made from it, the 
 finest and the most beautiful that could be 
 imagined. 
 
 _-^ r - - - - j 
 
 vitae sase delicias collorant: Rnii Synops. Quadnip. p. 239- 
 Huic opinion! assentitur D. Bnffon, attamer non raihi ap- 
 paiet magnitudinem partium talem vi<liiptatcm augere 
 Maiihus enim salacissiuiis conUiuluui obtintt. 
 b Bufl'on. 
 
THE HEDGEHOG KIND. 
 
 373 
 
 CHAPTER LIV. 
 
 THE HEDGEHOG, OR PRICKLY KIND. 
 
 ANIMALS of the Hedgehog kind require 
 but very little accuracy to distinguish them 
 from all others. That hair which serves 
 the generality of quadrupeds for warmth and 
 ornament, is partly wanting in these ; while 
 its place is supplied by sharp spines or prickles, 
 that' serve for their defence. This general 
 characteristic, therefore, makes a much more 
 obvious distinction than any that can be taken 
 from their teeth or their claws. Nature, by 
 this extraordinary peculiarity, seems to have 
 separated them in a very distinguished man- 
 ner ; so that, instead of classing the hedgehog 
 among the moles, or the porcupine with the 
 hare, as some have done, it is much more na- 
 tural and obvious to place them, and others 
 approaching them, in this strange peculiarity, 
 in a class by themselves ; nor let it be suppos- 
 ed, that while I thus alter their arrangement, 
 and separate them from animals with which 
 they have been formerly combined, that I am 
 destroying any secret affinities that exist in 
 nature. It is natural, indeed, for readers to 
 suppose, when they see two such opposite ani- 
 mals as the hare and the porcupine assembled 
 together in the same group, that there must be 
 some material reason, some secret connexion, 
 for thus joining animals so little resembling 
 each other in appearance. But the reasons 
 for this union were very slight, and merely 
 arose from a similitude in the fore teeth ; no 
 likeness in the internal conformation, no simili- 
 tude in nature, in habitudes, or disposition ; 
 in short, nothing to fasten the link that com- 
 bines them, but the similitude in the teeth : 
 this, therefore, may be easily dispensed with ; 
 and, as was said, it will be most proper to class 
 them according to their most striking simili- 
 tudes. 
 
 The hedgehog, with an appearance the most 
 formidable, is yet one of the most harmless ani- 
 mals in the world : unable or unwilling to 
 offend, all its precautions are only directed to 
 its own security ; and it is armed with a 
 thousand points, to keep off the enemy, but 
 
 not to invade him. While other creatures 
 trust to their force, their cunning, or their 
 swiftness, this animal, destitute of all, has but 
 one expedient for safety ; and from this alone 
 it often finds protection. As soon as it per- 
 ceives itself attacked, it withdraws all its vul- 
 nerable parts, rolls itself into a ball, and pre- 
 sents nothing but its defensive thorns to the 
 enemy ; thus, while it attempts to injure no 
 other quadruped, they are equally incapable of 
 injuring it : like those knights, we have some- 
 where read of, who were armed in such a 
 manner, that they could neither conquer others, 
 nor be themselves overcome. 
 
 This animal is of two kinds ; one with a 
 nose like the snout of a hog; the other more 
 short and blunt, like that of a dog. That with 
 the muzzle of a dog is the most common, be- 
 ing about six inches in length, from the tip of 
 the nose to the insertion of the tail. The tail 
 is little more than an inch long ; and so con- 
 cealed by the spines, as to be scarce visible : 
 the head, back, and sides, are covered with 
 prickles; the nose, breast, and belly, are cover- 
 ed with fine soft hair ; a the legs are short, of a 
 dusky colour, and almost bare; the toes on 
 each foot are five in number, long and sepa- 
 rated ; the prickles are about an inch in length, 
 and very sharp pointed ; their lower part is 
 white, the middle black, and the points white: 
 the eyes are small, and placed high in the head : 
 the ears are round, pretty large, and naked ; 
 the mouth is small, but well furnished with 
 teeth ; these, however, it only uses in chewing 
 its food, but neither in attacking or defending 
 itself against other animals. Its only reliance 
 in cases of danger, is on its spines ; the instant 
 it percr ives an enemy, it puts itself into a pos- 
 ture of defence, and keeps upon its guard until 
 it supposes the danger over. On such occa- 
 sions, it immediately alters its whole appear- 
 from its usual form, somewhat resem- 
 
 ance 
 
 a Praputium propendens. Linnaei Syst. 75. And of 
 the female he might have said, resupina copulatur. 
 3L* 
 
374 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 bling a small animal, with a bunch on its back, 
 the animal begins to bend its back, to lay its 
 head upon its breast, to shut its eyes, to roll 
 down the skin of its sides towards the legs, to 
 draw these up, and lastly, to tuck them in 
 evry side, by drawing the skin still closer. In 
 this form, which the hedgehog always puts on 
 when disturbed, it no way resembles an ani- 
 mal, but rather a roundish mass of prickles, 
 impervious on every side. The shape of the 
 animal thus rolled up, somewhat resembles a 
 chesnut in the husk ; there being, on one side, 
 a kind of flat space, which is that on which the 
 head and legs have been tucked in. 
 
 Such is the usual appearance of the hedge- 
 hog, upon the approach of any danger. Thus 
 rolled up in a lump, it patiently waits till its 
 enemy passes by, or is fatigued with fruitless 
 attempts to annoy it. The cat, the weasel, the 
 ferret, and the martin, quickly decline the 
 combat ; and the dog himself generally spends 
 his time in empty menaces, rather than in 
 effectual efforts. Every increase of danger 
 only increases the animal's precautions to keep 
 on its guard ; its assailant vainly attempts to 
 bite, since he thus more frequently feels than 
 inflicts a wound ; he stands enraged and bark- 
 ing, and rolls it along with the paws ; still, 
 however, the hedgehog patiently submits to 
 every indignity, but continues secure; and 
 still more to disgust its enemy with the contest, 
 sheds its urine, the smell of which is alone 
 sufficient to send him away. In this manner 
 the dog, after barking for some time, leaves 
 the hedgehog where he found him, who, per- 
 ceiving the danger past, at length peeps out 
 from its ball, and, if not interrupted, creeps 
 slowly to its retreat. 
 
 The hedgehog, like most other wild animals, 
 sleeps by day, and ventures out by night. It 
 generally resides in small thickets, in hedges, 
 or in ditches covered with bushes ; there it 
 makes a hole of about six or eight inches deep, 
 and lies well wrapped up, in moss, grass, or 
 leaves. Its food is roots, fruits, worms, and 
 insects. It is also said to suck cattle, and hurt 
 their udders ; but the smailness of its mouth 
 will serve to clear it from this reproach. It is 
 said also to be very hurtful in gardens and 
 orchards, where it will roll itself in a heap of 
 fruit, and so carry a large quantity away upon 
 its prickles ; but this imputation is as ill 
 grounded as the former, since the spines are 
 
 so disposed, that no fruit will stick upon 
 them, even if we should try to fix them on. 
 It rather appears to be a very serviceable ani- 
 mal, in ridding our fields of insects and worms, 
 whk'h are so prejudicial to vegetation. 
 
 Mr. Buffon, who kept these animals tame 
 about his house, acquits them of the reproach 
 of being mischievous in the garden, but then he 
 accuses them of tricks, of which, from the form 
 and habits of this animal, one would be never 
 led to suspect them. " I have often," says he, 
 " had the female ard her young brought me 
 about the beginning of June : they are gene- 
 rally from three to five in number : they are 
 white in the beginning, and only the marks of 
 their spines appear : I was willing to rear 
 some of them, and accordingly put the dam 
 and her young into a tub, with abundant pro- 
 vision beside them ; but the old animal, instead 
 of suckling her young, devoured them all, one 
 after another. On another occasion, an hedge- 
 hog that had made its way into the kitchen, 
 discovered a little pot, in which there was 
 meat prepared for boiling ; the mischievous 
 animal drew out the meat, and left its excre- 
 ments in the stead. I kept males and females 
 in the same apartment, where they lived 
 together, but never coupled. I permitted 
 several of them to go about my garden, they 
 did very little damage; and it was scarcely 
 perceivable that they were there : they lived 
 upon the fruits that fell from the trees; they 
 dug the earth into shallow holes; they eat 
 caterpillars, beetles, and worms ; they were 
 also very fond of flesh, which they devoured 
 boiled or raw." 
 
 They couple in spring, and bring forth about 
 the beginning of summer. They sleep during 
 the winter, and what is said of their laying up 
 provisions for that season, is consequently false. 
 They at no time eat much, and can remain 
 very long without any food whatsoever. Their 
 blood is cold, like all other animals that sleep 
 during the winter. Their flesh is not good for 
 food ; and their skins are converted to scarce 
 any use, except to muzzle calves, to keep them 
 from sucking. 
 
 THE TANREC AND TENDRAC. 
 
 THE Tanrec and Tendrac, are two little 
 animals described by Mr. JBuffon, of the 
 

IHjstrix Cristata., Common or Crested Forornpine. 2.H.Pre1ieMsais, BrasiHan Porcupine. 3. H.Porsata, Canadiau Porcupine (White ar' 
 
 4,Cavia Ma^ellaiiica . Fata^onian C'aij 5. Fiber, Beaver. 
 
THE HEDGEHOG KIND, 
 
 376 
 
 hedgehog kind ; but yet sufficiently different 
 from it, to constitute a different species. 
 Like the hedgehog they are covered with 
 prickles, though mixed in a greater propor- 
 tion with hair; but unlike that animal, they 
 do not defend themselves by rolling up in a 
 ball. Their wanting this last property is 
 alone sufficient to distinguish them from an 
 animal in which it makes the most striking 
 peculiarity: as also, that in the East Indies, 
 where only they are found, the hedgehog ex- 
 ists separately also: a manifest proof that this 
 animal is not a variety caused by the climate. 
 The tanrec is much less than the hedge- 
 hog," being about the si/e of a mole, and co- 
 vered with prickles, like that animal, except 
 that they are shorter and smaller. The len- 
 drac is still less than the former, and is de- 
 fended only with prickles upon the head, the 
 neck, and the shoulders; the rest being co- 
 vered with a coarse hair, resembling a hog's 
 bristles. These little animals, whose legs 
 are very short, move but slowly. They grunt 
 like a hog; and wallow, like it, in the mire. 
 They love to be near water, and spend more 
 of their time there, than upon laud. They 
 are chiefly in creeks and harbours of salt wa- 
 ter. They multiply in great numbers, make 
 themselves holes in the ground, and sleep 
 for several months. During this torpid state, 
 their hairs (and I should also suppose their 
 prickles) fall; and they are renewed upon 
 their revival. They are usually very fat; 
 and although their flesh be insipid, soft, and 
 stringy, yet the Indians find it to their taste, 
 and consider it as a very great delicacy. 
 
 THE PORCUPINE 
 
 THOSE arms which the hedgehog possesses 
 in miniature, the Porcupine has in a more 
 enlarged degree. The short prickles of the 
 hedgehog, are, in this animal, converted into 
 shafts. In the one, the spines are about an 
 inch long; in the other, a foot. The porcu- 
 pine is about two feet long, and fifteen inches 
 high. Like the hedgehog, it appears a mass 
 of misshapen flesh, covered with quills, from 
 ten to fourteen inches long, resembling the 
 
 Buffon vol. xxv. p. 254. 
 
 barrel of a goose-quill in thickness, but ta- 
 pering and sharp at both ends. These, whe- 
 ther considered separately or together, afford 
 sufficient subject to detain curiosity. Each 
 quill is thickest in the middle; and inserted 
 into the animal's skin, in the same manner as 
 feathers are found to grow upon birds. It is 
 within-side spongy, like the top of a goose- 
 quill; and of different colours, 'being white 
 and black alternately, from one end to the 
 other. The biggest are often found fifteen 
 inches long, and a quarter of an inch in dia- 
 meter; extremely sharp, and capable of in- 
 flicting a mortal wound. They seem harder 
 than common quills, being difficult to be cut, 
 and solid at that end which is not fixed in 
 the skin. If we examine them in common, 
 as they grow upon the animal, they appear 
 of two kinds; the one such as I have already 
 described ; the other, long, flexible, and slen- 
 der, growing here and there among the for- 
 mer. There is still another sort of quills, 
 that grow near the tail, white and transparent, 
 like the writing quills, and that seem to be 
 cut short at the end. AH these quills, of 
 whatever kind, incline backwards, like the 
 bristles of a hog; but when the animal is ir- 
 ritated, they rise, and stand upright, as bris- 
 tles are seen to do. 
 
 Such is the formation of this quadruped, 
 in those parts in which it differs from most 
 others; as to the rest of its figure, the muz- 
 zle bears some resemblance to that of a hare, 
 but black ; the legs are very short, and the 
 feet have five toes, both before and behind; 
 and these, as well as the belly, the head, and 
 all other parts of the body, are covered with 
 a sort of short hair, lihe prickles, there being 
 no part, except the ears and the sole of the 
 foot, that is free from them : the ears are thinly 
 covered with very fine hair; and are in shape 
 like those of mankind : the eyes are small, 
 like those of a hog, being only one-third of 
 an inch from one corner to the other. After 
 the skin is taken off, there appears a kind of 
 paps on those parts of the body from whence 
 the large quills proceed; these are about the 
 size of a small pea, each answering to as many 
 holes which appear on the outward surface 
 of the skin, and which are about half an inch 
 deep, like as many hollow pipes, wherein the 
 quills are fixed, as in so many sheaths. 
 
376 
 
 ANIMALS OF, &c. 
 
 This animal seems to partake very much of 
 the nature of the hedgehog ; having this for- 
 midable apparatus of arms rather to defend 
 itself, than annoy the enemy. There have 
 been, indeed, many naturalists who supposed 
 that it was capable of discharging them at its 
 foes, and killing at a great distance off. But 
 this opinion has been entirely discredited of 
 late; and it is now universally believed that its 
 quills remain firmly fixed in the skin, and are 
 then only shed when the animal moults them, 
 as birds do their faathers. It is true, we are 
 told by Ellis, that a wolf at Hudson's Bay was 
 found dead, with the quills of a porcupine 
 fixed within its mouth ; which might have 
 very Well happened, from the voraciousness of 
 the former, and not the resentment of the lat- 
 ter. That rapacious creature, in the rage of 
 appetite, might have attempted to devour the 
 porcupine, quills and all, and very probably 
 paid the forfeit by its life. However this be, 
 of all the porcupines that have been brought 
 into Europe, not one was ever seen to launch 
 their quills ; and yet the irritations they receiv- 
 ed were sufficient to have provoked their ut- 
 most indignation. Of all the porcupines that 
 Dr. Shaw observed in Africa, and h'e saw num- 
 bers, not one ever attempted to dart its quills ; 
 their usual manner of defence bein, to lie on 
 
 one side, and when the enemy approaches 
 very near, by suddenly rising, to wound him 
 with the points on the other. 
 
 It is probable, therefore, that the porcupine 
 is seldom the aggressor ; and when attacked 
 by the bolder animals, it only directs its quills 
 so as to keep always pointing towards the 
 enemy. These are an ample protection ; and, 
 as we are assured by Kolben, at such times, 
 even the lion himself will not venture to make 
 an attack. From such, therefore, the porcu- 
 pine can defend itself; and chiefly hunts for 
 serpents, and all other reptiles, for subsistence. 
 Travellers universally assure us, that between 
 the serpent and the porcupine there exists an 
 irreconcilable enmity, and that they never meet 
 without a mortal engagement/ The porcu- 
 pine, on these occasions, is said to roll itself 
 upon the serpent, and thus destroy and devour 
 it. This may be true ; while, what we are 
 informed by Monsieur Sarrasin, of the porcu- 
 pine of Canada chiefly subsisting on vegeta- 
 
 Bosnian. Smith. L. P. Vincent Marie, &c. 
 
 bles, may be equally so. Those which are 
 brought to this country to be shown, are usually 
 fed on bread, milk, and fruits ; but they will 
 not refuse meat when it is offered them ; and 
 it is probable, they prefer it in a wild state, 
 when it is to be had. b The porcupine is also 
 known to be extremely hurtful to gardens ; 
 and, where it enters, does incredible damage. 
 
 The Americans, who hunt this animal, as- 
 sure us, that the porcupine lives from twelve 
 to fifteen years. During the time of coupling, 
 which is in the month of September, the males 
 become very fierce and vlangerous, and often 
 are seen to destroy each other with their teeth. 
 The female goes with young seven months, 
 and brings forth but one at a time ; this she 
 suckles but about a month, and accustoms it 
 betimes to live, like herself, upon vegetablesand 
 the bark of trees ; she is very fierce in its de- 
 fence ; but, at other seasons, she is fearful, 
 timid, and harmless. The porcupine never 
 attempts to bite, nor any way to injure its pur- 
 suers ; if hunted by a dog or a wolf, it instantly 
 climbs up a tree, and continues there until it 
 has wearied out the patience of its adversary ; 
 the wolf knows by experience, how fruitless it 
 would be to wait ; he therefore leaves the por- 
 cupine above, and seeks out for a new adven- 
 ture. 
 
 The porcupine does not escape so well from 
 the Indian hunter, who eagerly pursues it, in 
 order to make embroidery of its quills, and to 
 eat its flesh. This, as we are commonly told, 
 is very tolerable eating : however, we may 
 expect wretched provisions when the savages 
 are to be our caterers, for they eat every thing 
 that has life. But they arc very ingenious with 
 regard to their embroidery: if I understand 
 the accounts rightly, they die the quills of va- 
 rious colours, and then splitting them into slips, 
 as we see in the making of a cane-chair, they 
 embroider with these their belts, baskets, and 
 several other necessary pieces of furniture. 
 
 As to the rest, there are many things related 
 concerning this animal that are fabulous ; but 
 there are still many circumstances more, that 
 yet remain to be known. It were curious to 
 inquire whether this animal moults its quills 
 when wild, for it is never seen to shed them in 
 a domestic state ; whether it sleeps all the win- 
 ter, as we are told by some naturalists, which 
 
 i> Buftbn. 
 
QUADRUPEDS COVERED WITH SCALES OR SHELLS. 
 
 377 
 
 we arc sure it does not when brought into our 
 country ; and, lastly, whether its quills can he 
 sent oif with a shake ; for no less a naturalist 
 than Reaumur was of that opinion. 
 
 All that we can learn of an animal exposed 
 as a show, or even by its dissection, is but 
 merely its conformation ; and that makes one 
 of the least interesting parts of its history. 
 We are naturally led, when presented with an 
 extraordinary creature, to expect something 
 extraordinary in its way of living, something 
 uncommon, and corresponding with its figure; 
 but of this animal we know little with any 
 precision, except what it offers in a state of 
 captivity. In such a situation, that which I 
 saw appeared to very little advantage : it was 
 extremely dull and torpid, though very wake- 
 ful ; and extremely voracious, though very 
 capable of sustaining hunger ; as averse to any 
 attachment, as to being tamed : it was kept in 
 an iron cage, and the touching one of the bars 
 was sufficient to excite its resentment, for its 
 quills were instantly erected; and the poet was 
 right in his epithet of fretful; for it appeared 
 to me the most irascible creature upon earth. 
 
 The porcupines of America differ very much 
 from that of the ancient continent, which we 
 have been describing ; and strictly speaking, 
 may be considered as animals of a different 
 species : however, from their being covered 
 with quills, we will only add them as varieties 
 of the former, since we know very little con- 
 cerning them, except their difference of figure. 
 They are of two kinds ; the one called the 
 couando; and the other, first named by Mr. 
 
 Buffon, the urson: the one a native of the 
 northern parts of America, the other of the 
 south ; and both differing from the former, in 
 having long tails, whereas that has a very short 
 one. 
 
 The COUANDO is much less than the porcu- 
 pine ; its quills are four times shorter, its snout 
 more unlike that of a hare ; its tail is long 
 enough to catch by the branches of trees, and 
 hold by them. It may be easily tamed, and 
 it is to be found chiefly in the southern parts 
 of America ; yet is not wanting also in the 
 northern. 
 
 The URSON, which Mr. Buffon calls after 
 our countryman Hudson, is a native of Hud- 
 son's Bay. The make of the body of this ani- 
 mal is not so round as that of the two former, 
 but somewhat resembling the shape of a pig. 
 It is covered with long bristly hair, with a 
 shorter hair underneath; and under this the 
 quills lie concealed very thick ; they are white, 
 with a brown point, and bearded, and the long- 
 est do not exceed four inches ; they stick to 
 the hand when the animal is stroked on the 
 back ; and likewise, when the hand is taken 
 away, they stick so fast as to follow it. They 
 make their nest under the roots of great trees, 
 sleep very much, and chiefly feed upon the 
 bark of the juniper. In winter the snow 
 serves them for drink ; and in summer they 
 lap water, like a dog. They are very common 
 in the country lying to the east of Hudson's 
 Bay ; and several of the trading Americans 
 depend on them for food, at some seasons of 
 the year. 
 
 CHAPTER LV. 
 
 OF QUADRUPEDS COVERED WITH SCALES OR SHELLS INSTEAD OF HAIR.' 
 
 WHEN we talk of a quadruped, the name 
 seems to imply an animal covered with hair; 
 when we mention a bird, it is natural to con- 
 ceive a creature covered with feathers; when 
 we hear of a fish, its scales are generally the 
 
 This chapter is chiefly extracted from Mr. Buffon, 
 which 1 mention at once, to save the trouble of repeated 
 quotation. 
 
 first part that strikes our imagination. Nature, 
 however, owns none of our distinctions; 
 various in all her operations, she mixes her 
 plans, groups her pictures, and excites our 
 wonder, as well by her general laws as by 
 her deviations. Quadrupeds, which we have 
 considered as making the first general class 
 in Animated Nature, and next to man the 
 most dignified tenants of the earth, are yet, 
 
378 
 
 QUADRUPEDS COVERED 
 
 in many respects, related to the classes be- ! 
 neath them, and do not in every respect, pre- 
 serve their usual distinctions. Their first 
 character, which consists in having lour feet, 
 is common to the lizard kind as well as to 
 them. The second prerogative, which is that 
 of bringing forth living young, is found in the 
 cetaceous tribe of fishes, and also in insects 
 without number. Their third and last attri- 
 bute, which seems more general and constant 
 than the former, that of being covered with 
 hair, is yet found in various other animals, 
 and is deficient in quarupeds themselves. 
 Thus we must be cautious of judging of the 
 nature of animals from one single character, 
 which is always found incomplete; for it often 
 happens that three or four of the most gene- 
 ral characters will not suffice. It must be by 
 a general enumeration of the parts that we 
 can determine precisely of the works of the 
 creation; and instead of definitions, learn to 
 describe. Had this method been followed, 
 much of the disgust and the intricacy of his- 
 tory might have been avoided, and that time, 
 which is now employed in combating error, 
 laid out in the promoting of science. 
 
 Were we to judge of nature from definitions 
 only, we should never be induced to suppose 
 that there existed races of viviparous quad- 
 rupeds destitute of hair, and furnished with 
 scales and shells in their stead. However, 
 nature, every way various, supplies us with 
 many instances of these extraordinary crea- 
 tures; the old world has itsquadrupeds cover- 
 ed with scales, and the new with a shell. In 
 both, they resemble each other, as well in the 
 strangeness of their appetites, as in their awk- 
 ward conformation. Like animals but par- 
 tially made up, and partaking of different 
 natures, they want those instincts which ani- 
 mals formed but for one element alone are 
 found to possess. They seem to be a kind 
 of strangers in nature ; creatures taken from 
 some other element, and capriciously thrown 
 to find a precarious subsistence upon land. 
 
 THE PANGOLIN. 
 
 THE pangolin, which has been usually call- 
 ed the scaly lizard, Mr. Buffbn verv judiciously 
 restores to that denomination by which it is 
 
 known in the countnes wnere it is found. 
 The calling it a lizard, he justly observes, 
 might be apt to produce error, and occasion 
 its being confounded with an animal which it 
 resembles only in its general form, and in its 
 being covered with scales. The lizard may 
 be considered as a reptile, produced from an 
 egg; the pangolin is a quadruped, and 
 brought forth alive, and perfectly formed. 
 The lizard is all covered with the marks of 
 scales ; the pangolin has scales neither on the 
 throat, the breast, nor the belly. The scales 
 of the lizard seem stuck upon the body even 
 closer than those of fishes ; the scales of the 
 pangolin are only fixed atone and, and capa- 
 ble of being erected, like those of the porcu- 
 pine, at the will of the animal. The lizard 
 is a defenceless creature; the pangolin can 
 roll itself into a ball, like the hedgehog, and 
 presents the points of its scales to the enemy, 
 which effectually defend it. 
 
 The pangolin, which is a native of the 
 torrid climates of the ancient continent, is, of 
 all other animals, the best protected from ex- 
 ternal injury by nature. It is about three or 
 four feet long; or, taking in the tail, from six 
 to eight. Like the lizard, it has a small head, 
 a very long nose, a short thick neck, a long 
 body, legs very short, and a tail extremely 
 long, thick at the insertion, and terminating 
 in a point. It has no teeth, but is armed 
 with five toes ou each foot, with long white 
 claws. But what it is chiefly distinguished 
 by, is its scaly covering, which, in some mea- 
 sure, hides all the proportions of its body. 
 These scales defend the animal on all parts, 
 except the under part of the head and neck, 
 under the shoulders, the breast, the belly, 
 and the inner side of the legs; all which 
 parts are covered with a smooth, soft skin, 
 without hair. Between the shells of this ani- 
 mal, at all the interstices, are seen hairs like 
 bristles, brown at the extremity, and yellow 
 towards the root. The scales of this extra- 
 ordinary creature are of different sizes and 
 different forms, and stuck upon the body 
 somewhat like the leaves of an artichoke. 
 The largest are found near the tail, which is 
 covered with them like the rest of the body. 
 These are above three inches broad, and 
 about two inches long, thick in the middle 
 and share at the edges, and terminated in a 
 
WITH SCALES OR SHELLS. 
 
 379 
 
 roundish point. They are extremely hard, 
 and their substance resembles that of horn. 
 They are convexed on the outside, and a little 
 concave on the inner; one edge sticks in the 
 skin, while the other laps over that immedi- 
 ately behind it. Those that cover the tail, 
 conform to the shape of that part, being of a 
 dusky brown colour, and so hard, when the 
 animal has acquired its full growth, as to 
 turn a musket-ball. 
 
 Thus armed, this animal fears nothing from 
 the efforts of all other creatures, except man. 
 The instant it perceives the approach of an 
 enemy, it rolls itself up like the hedgehog, 
 and presents no part but the cutting edges of 
 its scales to the assailant. Its long tail, which, 
 at first view, might be thought easily separ- 
 able, serves still moreto increase the animal's 
 security. This is lapped round the rest of 
 the body, and, being defended with shells 
 even more cutting than any other part, the 
 creature continues in perfect security. Its 
 shells are so large, so thick, and so pointed, 
 that they repel every animal of prey; they 
 make a coat of armour that wounds while it 
 resists, and at once protects and threatens. 
 The most cruel, the most famished quadru- 
 ped of the forest, the tiger, the panther, and 
 the hyaena, make vain attempts to force it. 
 They tread upon, they roll it about, but all to 
 no purpose; the pangolin remains safe within, 
 while its invader almost always feels the re- 
 ward of its rashness. The fox often destroys 
 the hedgehog by pressing it with his weight, 
 and thus obliges it to put forth its nose, which 
 he instantly seizes, and soon after the whole 
 body ; but the scales of the pangolin effec- 
 tually support it under any such weight, while 
 nothing that the strongest animals are capa- 
 ble of doing can compel it to surrender. 
 Man alone seems furnished with arms to con- 
 quer its obstinacy. The negroes of Africa, 
 when they find it, beat it to death with clubs, 
 and consider its flesh as a very great deli- 
 cacy. 
 
 But, although this animal be so formidable 
 in its appearance, there cannot be a more 
 harmless, inoffensive creature when unmo- 
 lested. It is even unqualified by nature to 
 injure larger animals, if it had the disposition, 
 for it has no teeth. It should seem that the 
 bony matter, which goes in other animals to 
 
 No. 33 & 34. 
 
 supply the teeth, is exhausted in this in sup- 
 plying the scales that go to the covering of 
 its body. However this be, its lite seems 
 correspondent to its peculiar conformation. 
 Incapable of being carnivorous, since it has 
 no teeth, nor of subsisting on vegetable?, 
 which require much chewing, it lives entirely 
 upon insects, for which nature has fittted it 
 in a very extraordinary manner. As it has a 
 long nose, so it may naturally be supposed 
 to have a long tongue ; but, to increase its 
 length still more, it is doubled in the mouth. 
 so that when extended, it is shot out to above 
 a quarter of a yard beyond the tip of the nose. 
 This tongue is round, extremely red, and 
 covered with an unctuous and slimy liquor, 
 which gives it a shining hue. When the pan- 
 golin, therefore, approaches an ant-hill, for 
 these are the insects on which it chiefly feeds, 
 it lies down near it, concealing as much as 
 possible the place of its retreat, and stretch- 
 ing out its long tongue among the ants, keeps 
 it for some time quite immoveable. These 
 little animals, allured by its appearance, and 
 the unctuous substance with which it is 
 smeared, instantly gather upon it in great 
 numbers; and when the pangolin supposes a 
 sufficiency, it quickly withdraws the tongue 
 and swallows them at once. This peculiar 
 manner of hunting for its prey is repeated, 
 either till it be satisfied, or till the ants, 
 grown more cautious, will be allured to their 
 destruction no longer. It is against these 
 noxious insects, therefore, that its only force 
 or cunning is exerted ; and were the Negroes 
 but sufficiently sensible of its utility in de- 
 stroying one of the greatest pests to their 
 country, they would riot be so eager to kill it. 
 But it is the nature of savage men to pursue 
 the immediate good, without being solicitous 
 about the more distant benefit they remove. 
 They, therefore, hunt this animal with the 
 utmost avidity for its flesh ; and as it is slow 
 and unable to escape in an open place, they 
 seldom fail of destroying it. However, it 
 chiefly keeps in the most obscure parts of the 
 forest, and digs itself a retreat in the clefts of 
 rocks, where it brings forth its young, so that 
 it is but rarely met with, and continues a soli- 
 tary species, and an extraordinary instance 
 of the varying of nature. 
 
 Of this animal, there is a variety which is 
 
 3M 
 
380 
 
 QUADRUPEDS COVERED 
 
 called the PHATAGIN, much less than the 
 former, being not above a foot long from the 
 head to the tail, with shells differently formed, 
 with its belly, breast, and throat covered with 
 hair, instead of a smooth skin, as in the 
 former; but that by which it is peculiarly 
 distinguished is the extent of its tail, which is 
 above twice the length of its body. Both are 
 found in the warm latitudes of the east, as 
 well as in Africa; and, as their numbers are 
 but few, it is to be supposed their fecundity 
 is not great. 
 
 THE ARMADILLO, OR TATOU. 
 
 HAVING mentioned quadrupeds of the an- 
 cient continent covered with scales, we come 
 next to quadrupeds of the new continent, | 
 covered with shells. It would seem that na- 
 ture had reserved all the wonders of her 
 power for these remote and thinly inhabited 
 countries, where the men are savage, and the 
 quadrupeds various. It would seem that she 
 becomes more extraordinary in proportion as 
 she retires from human inspection. But the 
 real fact is, that wherever mankind are 
 polished, or thickly planted, they soon rid 
 the earth of these odd and half-formed pro- 
 ductions, that in some measure encumber the 
 soil. They soon disappear in a cultivated 
 country, and continue to exist only in those 
 remote deserts where they have no enemies 
 but such as they are enabled to oppose. 
 
 The Armadillo is chiefly an inhabitant of 
 South America; a peaceful, harmless crea- 
 ture, incapable of offending any other quad- 
 ruped, and furnished with a peculiar covering 
 for its own defence. The pangolin, describ- 
 ed above, seems an inactive, helpless being, 
 indebted for safety more to its patience than 
 its power; but the armadillo is still more ex- 
 posed and helpless. The pangolin is furnish- 
 ed with an armour that wounds while it resists, 
 and that is never attacked with impunity; 
 but the armadillo is obliged to submit to 
 every insult, without any power of repelling 
 its enemy ; it is attacked without danger, and 
 is consequently liable to more various perse- 
 cutions. 
 
 This animal being covered, like a tortoise, 
 with 3, shell, or rather a number of shells, its 
 
 other proportions are not easily discerned. 
 It appears, at first view, a round misshapen 
 mass, with a long head, and a very large tail 
 sticking out at either end, as if not of a piece 
 with the rest of the body. It is of different 
 sizes, from a foot to three feet long, and cover- 
 ed with a shell divided into several pieces, 
 that lap over each other like the plaits in a 
 coat of armour, or in the tail of a lobster. 
 The difference in the size of this animal, and 
 also the different disposition and number of 
 its plaits,have been considered as constituting 
 so many species, each marked with its own 
 particular name. In all, however, the animal 
 is partially covered with this natural coat of 
 mail ; the conformation of which affords one 
 of the most striking curiosities in natural his- 
 tory. This shell, which in every respect re- 
 sembles a bony substance, covers the head, 
 the neck, the back, the sides, the rump, and 
 the tail to the very point. The only parts to 
 which it does not extend are, the throat, the 
 breast, and the belly, which are covered with 
 a white soft skin, somewhat resembling that 
 of a fowl stripped of its feathers. If these 
 naked parts be observed with attention, they 
 will be found covered with the rudiments of 
 shells, of the same substance with those which 
 cover the back. The skin, even in the parts 
 that are softest, seems to have a tendency to 
 ossify; but a complete ossification takes place 
 only on those parts, which have the least fric- 
 tion, and are the most exposed to the weather. 
 The shell, which covers the upper part of the 
 body, differs from that of the tortoise, in being 
 composed of more pieces than one, which lie 
 in bands over the body, and, as in the tail of 
 the lobster, slide over each other, and are 
 connected by a yellow membrane in the same 
 manner. By this means the animal has a 
 motion in its back, and the armour gives way 
 to its necessary inflections. These bands are 
 of various numbers and sizes, and from them 
 these animals have been distinguished into 
 various kinds. In general, however, there 
 are two large pieces that cover, one the shoul- 
 ders and the other the rump. In the back, 
 between these, the bands are placed in differ- 
 ent numbers, that lap over each other, and 
 give play to the whole. Besides their open- 
 ing cross-ways, they also open down along 
 the back, so that the animal can move in 
 
WITH SCALES OR SHELLS. 
 
 381 
 
 every direction. In some there are but three 
 of these bands between the large pieces; in 
 others there are six; in a third kind there 
 are eight ; in a fourth kind, nine; in a fifth 
 kind, twelve ; and, lastly, in the sixth kind 
 there is but one large piece, which covers 
 the shoulders, and the rest of the body is co- 
 vered with bands all down to the tail. These 
 shells are differently coloured in different 
 kinds, but most usually they are of a dirty 
 gray. This colour, in all, arises from ano- 
 ther peculiar circumstance in their confor- 
 mation, for the shell itself is covered with a 
 softish skin, which is smooth and transparent. 
 
 But, although these shells might easily de- 
 fend this animal from a feeble enemy, yet 
 they could make but a slight resistance against 
 a more powerful antagonist; nature, there- 
 fore, has given the armadillo the same method 
 of protecting itself with the hedgehog or the 
 pangolin. The instant it perceives itself at- 
 tacked, it withdraws the head under its shells, 
 and lets nothing be seen but the tip of the 
 nose; if the danger increase, the animal's pre- 
 cautions increase in proportion; it then tucks 
 up its feet under its belly, unites its two ex- 
 tremities together, while the tail seems as a 
 band to strengthen the connexion ; and it 
 thus becomes like a ball, a little flattish on 
 each side. In this position it continues ob- 
 stinately fixed, while the danger is near, and 
 often long after it is ov"er. In this situation 
 it is tossed about at the pleasure of every 
 other quadruped, and very little resembling 
 a creature endowed with life and motion. 
 Whenever the Indians take it, which is in 
 this form, by laying it close to the fire, they 
 soon oblige the poor animal to unfold itself, 
 and to face a milder death to escape a more 
 severe. 
 
 This animal is a native only of America, for 
 they were utterly unknown before the disco- 
 very of that continent. It is an inoffensive, 
 harmless creature, unless it finds the way into 
 a garden, where it does a great deal of mis- 
 chief, by eating the melons, the potatoes, and 
 other vegetables. Although a native of the 
 warmest parts of America, yet it bears the 
 cold of our climate without any inconvenience. 
 We have often seen them shown among other 
 wild beasts, which is a proof they are not 
 difficult to be brought over. Their motion 
 
 seems to be a swift walk, but they can nei- 
 ther run, leap, nor climb trees; so that, if 
 found in an open place, they have no method 
 of escaping from their pursuers. Their only 
 resource in such an extremity is to make to- 
 wards their hole as fast as they can; or, if 
 this be impracticable, to make a new hole 
 before the enemy arrives. For this they re- 
 quire but a very few moments advantage; 
 the mole itself does not burrow swifter than 
 they can. For this purpose, they are furnish- 
 ed with claws extremely large, strong, and 
 crooked, and usually four upon each foot. 
 They are sometimes caught by the tail as they 
 are making their way into the earth; but such 
 is their resistance, and so difficult is it to 
 draw them backward, that they leave their 
 tail in the hand of their pursuer, and are very 
 well contented to save their lives with its loss. 
 The pursuers, sensible of this, never drag the 
 tail with all their force, but hold it while ano- 
 ther digs the ground about them, and thus 
 these animals are taken alive. The instant 
 the armadillo perceives itself in the power 
 of its enemies, it has but one last resource, to 
 roll itself up, and thus patiently wait what- 
 ever tortures they think proper to inflict. 
 The flesh of the smaller kinds is said to be 
 delicate eating; so that we may suppose they 
 receive no mercy. For this reason they are 
 pursued with unceasing industry ; and, al- 
 though they burrow very deep in the earth, 
 there have been many expedients used to 
 force them out. The hunters sometimes con- 
 trive to fill the hole with smoke, which is 
 often successful ; they at other times force it 
 by pouring in water. They also bring up a 
 small kind of dogs to the chase that quickly 
 overtake them, if at any distance from their 
 burrow, and oblige them to roll themselves 
 up in a ball, in which figure the hunters car- 
 ry them home. If, however, the armadillo be 
 near a precipice, it often escapes by rolling 
 itself up, and then tumbling down from rock 
 to rock, without the least danger or inconve- 
 nience. They are sometimes taken in snares 
 laid for them by the sides of rivers and low 
 moist places, which they particularly fre- 
 quent; and this methed. in general, succeeds 
 better than any of the former, as their bur- 
 rows are very deep, and they seldom stir out 
 except in the night. At no time are they 
 3 M* 
 
382 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 found at any great distancefrom their retreats, 
 so that it requires some patience and skill to 
 intercept their retreat. 
 
 There are scarce any of these that do not 
 root the ground, like a hog, in searcli of such 
 roots as make a principal part of their food. 
 They live also upon melons and other succu- 
 lent vegetables, and all will eat flesh when 
 they can get it. They frequent water and 
 watery places, where they feed upon worms, 
 small fish, and water insects. It is pretended 
 that there is a kind of friendship between 
 them and the rattle-snake, that they live 
 peaceably and commodiously together, and 
 are frequently found in the same hole. This, 
 however, may be a friendship of necessity to 
 the armadillo; the rattle-snake takes posses- 
 sion of its retreats, which neither are willing 
 to quit, while each is incapable of injuring 
 the other. 
 
 As to the rest, these animals, though they 
 all resemble each other in the general cha- 
 racter of being clothed with a shell, yet differ 
 a good deal in their size, and in the parts into 
 which their shell is divided. The first of this 
 kind, which has but three bands between the 
 two large pieces that cover the back, is call- 
 ed the TATU APARA. I will not enter into an 
 exact description of its figure, which, how 
 well written soever, no imagination could ex- 
 actly conceive ; and the reader would be 
 more fatigued to understand than I to write it. 
 The tail is shorter in this than any other kind, 
 being not more than two inches long, while 
 the shell, taking all the pieces together, is a 
 foot long and eight inches broad. The 
 second is the TATOU of Ray, or the ENCOU- 
 
 BERT of Buffbn; this is distinguished from 
 the rest by six bands across the back; it is 
 about the size of a pig of a month old, with 
 a small long head and a very long tail. The 
 third is the TATUETTE, furnished with eight 
 bands, and not by a great deal so big as the 
 former. Its tail is loi.ger also, and its legs 
 shorter in proportion. Its body, from the nose 
 to the insertion of the tail, is about ten inches 
 long, and the tail seven. The fourth is the 
 PIG-HEADED ARMADILLO, with nine bands. This 
 is much larger than the former, being about 
 two feet long from the nose to the tail. The 
 fifth is the KABASSOU, or CATAPHRACTUS, with 
 twelve bands, and still bigger than the former, 
 or any other of its kind. This is often found 
 above three feet long ; but is never eaten as 
 the rest are. The sixth is the WEASEL-HEADED 
 ARMADILLO, with eighteen bands, with a large 
 piece before, and nothing but bands back- 
 ward. This is above a foot long, and the tail 
 five inches. Of all these, the kabassou and 
 the encoubert are the largest; the rest are 
 of a much smaller kind. In the larger kinds, 
 the shell is much more solid than in the 
 others, and the flesh is much harder and un- 
 fit for the table. These are generally seen 
 to reside in dry upland grounds, while the 
 small species are always fbundinmoist places, 
 and in the neighbourhood of brooks and rivers. 
 They all roll themselves into a ball; but those 
 whose bands are fewest in number are least 
 capable of covering themselves incompletely. 
 The tatu apara, for instance, when rolled up, 
 presents two great interstices between its 
 bands, by which it is very easily vulnerable, 
 even by the feeblest of quadrupeds. 
 
 CHAPTER LVI. 
 
 ANIMALS OF THE BAT KIND 
 
 HAVING in the last chapter described a 
 race of animals that unite the boundaries be- 
 tween quadrupeds and insects, I come in this 
 to a very different class, that serve to fill up 
 the chasm between quadrupeds and birds. 
 Some naturalists, indeed, have found animals 
 
 of the bat kind so much partaking of the na- 
 ture of both, that they have been at a loss in 
 which rank to place them, and have doubted, 
 in giving the history of the bat, whether it 
 was a beast or a bird they were describing. 
 These doubts, however, no longer exist; they 
 
THE BAT KIND. 
 
 383 
 
 are now universally made to take their place 
 among quadrupeds, to which their bringing 
 forth their young alive, their hair, their teeth, 
 as well as the rest of their habitudes and confor- 
 mation, evidently entitle them. Pliny, Gesner, 
 and Aldrovandus, who placed them among 
 birds, did not consider that they wanted every 
 character of that order of animals, except the 
 power of flying. Indeed, when this animal is 
 seen with an awkward and struggling motion, 
 supporting itself in the air at the dusk of the 
 evening, it presents in some measure the ap- 
 pearance of a bird ; but naturalists, whose 
 business it is to examine it more closely, to 
 watcli its habitudes, and inspect into its for- 
 mation, are inexcusable for concurring in the 
 mi take. 
 
 The bat in scarce any particular resembles 
 the bird, except in its power of sustaining 
 itself in the air. It brings forth its young alive ; 
 it suckles them ; its rnouth is furnished with 
 teeth ; its lungs are formed like those of quad- 
 rupeds ; its intestines, and its skeleton, have a 
 complete resemblance, and even are, in some 
 measure, seen to resemble those of mankind.* 
 
 The bat most common in England, is about 
 the size of a mouse ; or nearly two inches and 
 a half long. The membranes that are usually 
 called wings, are, properly speaking, an ex- 
 tension of the skin all round the body, except 
 the head, which, when the animal flies, is kept 
 stretched on every side, by the four interior 
 toes of the fore feet, which are enormously 
 long, and serve like masts that keep the can- 
 vas of a sail spread, and regulate its motions. 1 " 
 The first toe is quite loose, and serves as a 
 heel when the bat walks, or as a hook, when 
 it would adhere to any thing. The hind feet 
 are disengaged from the surrounding skin, and 
 divided into five toes, somewhat resembling 
 those of a mouse. The skin by which it flies 
 is of a dusky colour. The body is covered 
 with a short fur, of a mouse colour, tinged 
 with red. The eyes are very small ; the ears 
 like those of a mouse. 
 
 This species of the bat is very common in 
 England. It makes its first appearance early 
 in summer, and begins its flight in the dusk of 
 the evening. It principally frequents the sides 
 of woods, glades, and shady walks ; and is 
 frequently observed to skim along the surface 
 
 Penis propendens. 
 
 of pieces of water. It pursues gnats, moths, 
 and nocturnal insects of every kind. It feeds 
 upon these ; but will not refuse meat, whenever 
 it can find it. Its flight is a laborious, irregu- 
 lar movement ; and if it happens to be inter- 
 rupted in its course, it cannot readily prepare 
 for a second elevation ; so that if it strikes 
 against any object, and falls to the ground, it 
 is usually taken. It appears only in the most 
 pleasant evenings, when its prey is generally 
 abroad, and flies in pursuit with its mouth 
 open. At other times it continues in its retreat ; 
 the chink of a ruined building, or the hollow of 
 a tree. Thus this little animal, even in sum- 
 mer, sleeps the greatest part of its time, never 
 venturing out by day-light, nor in rainy 
 weather ; never hunting in quest of prey, but 
 for a small part of the night, and then return- 
 ing to its hole. But its short life is still more 
 abridged by continuing in a torpid state during 
 the winter. At the approach of the cold sea- 
 son, the bat prepares for its state of lifeless 
 inactivity, and seems rather to choose a place 
 where it may continue safe from interruption, 
 than where it may be warmly or conveniently 
 lodged. For this reason it is usually seen 
 hanging by its hooked claws to the roofs of 
 caves, regardless of the eternal damps that sur- 
 round it. The bat seems the only animal that 
 will venture to remain in these frightful sub- 
 terranean abodes, where it continues in a tor- 
 pid state, unaffected by every change of the 
 weather. Such of this kind as are not provi- 
 dent enough to procure themselves a deep re- 
 treat, where the cold and heat seldom vary, 
 are sometimes exposed to great inconveniences, 
 for the weather often becomes so mild in the 
 midst of winter as to warm them prematurely 
 into life, and to allure them from their holes in 
 quest of food, when nature has not provided a 
 supply. These, therefore, have seldom strength 
 to return ; but, having exhausted themselves 
 in a vain pursuit after insects which are not to 
 be found, are destroyed by the owl, or any 
 other animal that follows such petty prey. 
 
 The bat couples and brings forth in sum- 
 mer, generally from two to five at a time: of 
 this I am certain, that I have found five young 
 ones in a hole together ; but whether they 
 were the issue of one parent, I cannot tell. 
 The female has but two nipples, and those 
 
 b British Zoology. 
 
384 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 forward on the breast, as in the human kind. 
 This was a sufficient motive for Linnaeus to 
 give it the title of aprimas, to rank it in the 
 same order with mankind ; and to push this 
 contemptible animal among the chiefs of the 
 creation. Such arbitrary associations produce 
 rather ridicule than instruction, and render 
 even method contemptible ; however, we are 
 to forgive too strong an attachment to sys- 
 tem in this able naturalist, since his applica- 
 tion to the particular history of the animal 
 counterbalances the defect.* 
 
 From Linnaeus we learn, that the female 
 makes no nest for her young, as most birds 
 and quadrupeds are known to do. She is 
 barely content with the first hole she meets, 
 where sticking herself by her hooks against 
 the sides of her apartments she permits her 
 young to hang at the nipple, and in this man- 
 ner to continue for the first or second day. 
 When, after some time, the dam begins to 
 grow hungry, and find a necessity of stirring 
 abroad, she takes her little ones and sticks 
 them to the wall, in the manner she before 
 hung herself; there they immoveably cling, 
 and patiently wait till her return. 
 
 Thus far this animal seems closely allied 
 to the quadruped race. Its similitude to 
 that of birds is less striking. As nature has 
 furnished birds with extremely strong pecto- 
 ral muscles, to move the wings, and direct 
 their flight, so has it also furnished this ani- 
 mal. As birds also have their legs weak, and 
 unfit for the purposes of motion, the bat has 
 its legs fashioned in the same manner, and is 
 never seen to walk, or, more properly speak- 
 ing, to push itself forward with its hind legs, 
 but in cases of extreme necessity. The toes 
 of the fore legs, or, if we may use the expres- 
 sion, its extremely long fingers, extend the 
 web like a membrane that lies between them; 
 and this, which is extremely thin, serves to 
 lift the little body into the air: in this man- 
 ner, by an unceasing percussion, much swifter 
 than that of birds, the animal continues, and 
 directs its flight; however, the great labour 
 required in flying, soon fatigues it; for, un- 
 like birds, which continue for days together 
 upon the wing, the bat is tired in less than an 
 hour, and then returns to its hole, satisfied 
 
 * Fauna Suecia, p. 8. 
 
 with its supply, to enjoy the darkness of its 
 retreat. 
 
 If we consider the bat as it is seen in our 
 own country, we shall find it a harmless, in- 
 offensive creature. It is true that it now and 
 then steals into a larder, and, like a mouse, 
 commits its petty thefts upon the fattest parts 
 of the bacon. But this happens seldom ; the 
 general tenor of its industry is employed in 
 pursuing insects that are much more noxious 
 to us than itself can possibly be; while its 
 evening flight, and its unsteady wabbling mo- 
 tion, amuse the imagination, and add one 
 figure more to the pleasing group of Anima- 
 ted Nature. 
 
 The varieties of this animal, especially in 
 our country, are but few; and the differences 
 scarce worth enumeration. Naturalists men- 
 tion the Long-eared Bat, much less than that 
 generally seen, and with much longer ears; 
 the Horse-shoe Bat, with an odd protuberance 
 round its upper lip, somewhat in the form of 
 a horse-shoe; the Rhinoceros Bat, with a 
 horn growing from the nose, somewhat simi- 
 lar to that animal from whence it has the 
 name. These, with several others, whose 
 varieties are too numerous, and differences 
 too minute for a detail, are all inoffensive, 
 minute, and contemptible; incapable, from 
 their size, of injuring mankind, and not suf- 
 ficiently numerous much to incommode him. 
 But there is a larger race of bats, found in 
 the East and West Indies, that are truly for- 
 midable ; each of these is singly a dangerous 
 enemy, but when they unite in flocks, they 
 then become dreadful. Were the inhabitants 
 of the African coasts, b says Des Marchais, to 
 eat animals of the Bat kind, as they do in the 
 East Indies, they would never want a sup- 
 ply of provisions. They are there in such 
 numbers, that when they fly, they obscure the 
 setting sun. In the morning, at peep of day, 
 they are seen sticking upon the tops of the 
 trees, and clinging to each other, like bees 
 when they swarm, or like large clusters of 
 cocoa. The Europeans often amuse them- 
 selves with shooting among this huge msiss 
 of living creatures, and observing their em- 
 barrassment when wounded. They some- 
 times enter the houses, and the Negroes are 
 
 b Des Marchais, vol. ii. p. 208. 
 
THE BAT KIND. 
 
 385 
 
 expert at killing them ; but although these 
 people seem for ever hungry, yet they regard 
 the bat with horror, and will not eat it, though 
 ready to starve. 
 
 Of foreign bats, the largest we have any 
 certain accounts of, is the Rousette, or the 
 Great Bat of Madagascar. This formidable 
 creature is near four feet broad, when the 
 wings are extended ; and a foot long, from the 
 tip of the nose to the insertion of the tail. It 
 resembles our bat in the form of its wings, in 
 its manner of flying, and in its internal con- 
 formation. It differs from it in its enormous 
 size ; in its colour, which is red, like that of a 
 fox ; in its head and nose also, which resemble 
 those of that animal, and which have induced 
 some to call it the flying fox : it differs also in 
 the number of its teeth ; and in having a claw 
 on the fore foot, which is wanting in ours. 
 This formidable creature is found only in the 
 ancient continent; particularly in Madagascar, 
 along the coasts of Africa and Malabar, where 
 it is usually seen about the size of a large hen. 
 When they repose, they stick themselves to the 
 tops of the tallest trees, and hang with their 
 heads downward. But when they are in 
 motion, nothing can be more formidable : 
 they are seen in clouds, darkening the air, as 
 well by day as by night, destroying the ripe 
 fruits of the country, and sometimes settling 
 upon animals, and man himself: they devour, 
 indiscriminately, fruits, flesh, and insects, and 
 drink the juice of the palm-tree : they are 
 heard at night in the forests at more than two 
 miles distance, with a horrible din, but at the 
 approach of day, they usually begin to retire ; 
 nothing is safe from their depredations ; they 
 destroy fowls and domestic animals, unless 
 preserved wiih the utmost care, and often fasten 
 upon the inhabitants themselves, attack them 
 in the face, and inflict very terrible wounds. 
 In short, as some have already observed, the 
 ancients seem to have taken their ideas of 
 harpies from these fierce and voracious crea- 
 tures, as they both concur in many parts of the 
 description, being equally deformed, greedy, 
 uncleanly, and cruel. 
 
 An animal not so formidable, but still more 
 mischievous than these, is the American Vam- 
 pyre. This is still less than the former ; but 
 more deformed, and still more numerous. It 
 is furnished with a horn like the rhinoceros 
 bat ; and its ears are extremely long. The 
 
 other kinds generally resort to the forest, and 
 the most deserted places ; but these come into 
 towns and cities, and, after sun-set, when 
 they begin to fly, cover the streets like a 
 canopy. 1 They are the common pest both of 
 men and animals ; they effectually destroy the 
 one, and often distress the other. " They 
 are," says Ulloa, "the most expert blood-let- 
 ters in the world. The inhabitants of those 
 warm latitudes being obliged, by the excessive 
 heats, to leave open the doors and windows of 
 the chambers where they sleep, the vampyres 
 enter, and if they find any part of the body 
 exposed, they never fail to fasten upon it. 
 There they continue to suck the blood ; and it 
 often happens that the person dies under the 
 operation. They insinuate their tooth into a 
 vein, with all the art of the most experienced 
 surgeon, continuing to exhaust the body until 
 they arc satiated. I have been assured," con- 
 tinues he, " by persons of the strictest veracity, 
 that such an accident has happened to them ; 
 and that, had they not providentially awaked, 
 their sleep would have been their passage into 
 eternity ; having lost so large a quantity of 
 blood as hardly to find strength to bind up the 
 orifice. The reason why the puncture is not 
 felt is, besides the great precaution with which 
 it is made, the gentle refreshing agitation of 
 the bat's wings, which contribute to increase 
 sleep, and soften the pain." 
 
 The purport of this account has been con- 
 firmed by various other travellers ; who all 
 agree that this bat is possessed of a faculty ol 
 drawing the blood from persons sleeping ; and 
 thus often destroying them before they awake. 
 But still a very strong difficulty remains to be 
 accounted for ; the manner in which they in- 
 flict the wound. Ulloa, as has been seen, 
 supposes that it is done by a single tooth ; but 
 this we know to be impossible, since the ani- 
 mal cannot infix one tooth without all the rest 
 accompanying its motions ; the teeth of the 
 bat kind being pretty even, and the mouth but 
 small. Mr. Buffon therefore supposes the 
 wound to be inflicted by the tongue ; which, 
 however, appears to me too large to inflict 
 an unpainful wound ; and even less qualified 
 for that purpose than the teeth. Nor can the 
 tongue, as Mr. Buffon seems to suppose, serve 
 for the purposes of suction, since for this it 
 
 a Ulloa, vol. i. p. 58. 
 
386 
 
 AMPHIBIOUS QUADRUPEDS. 
 
 must be hollow, like a syringe, which it is not 
 found to be. I should therefore suppose, 
 that the animal is endowed with a strong 
 power of suction; and that, without inflicting 
 any wound whatsoever, by continuing to draw, 
 it enlarges the pores of the skin in such a 
 manner that the blood at length passes, and 
 that more freely the longer the operation is 
 continued ; so that, at last, when the bat goes 
 off, the blood continues to flow. In confir- 
 mation of this opinion we are told, that where 
 
 beasts have a thick skin, this animal cannot 
 injure them; whereas, in horses, mules, and 
 asses, they are very liable to be thus destroy- 
 ed. As to the rest, these animals are con- 
 sidered as one of the great pests of South 
 America; and often prevent the peopling 
 of many parts of that continent : having 
 destroyed at Barja, and several other pla- 
 ces, such cattle as were brought there by 
 the missionaries, in order to form a settle- 
 ment. 
 
 CHAPTER LVII. 
 
 OF AMPHIBIOUS QUADRUPEDS. 
 
 THE gradations of nature from one class 
 of beings to another are made by impercep- 
 tible deviations. As we saw in the foregoing 
 chapters quadrupeds almost degraded into 
 the insect tribe, or mounted among the in- 
 habitants of the air, we are at present to ob- 
 serve their approach to fishes, to trace the 
 degrees by which they become more unlike 
 terrestrial animals, till the similitude of the 
 fish prevails over that of the quadruped. 
 
 As in opposite armies the two bodies are 
 distinct and separated from each other, while 
 yet between them are various troops that 
 plunder on both sides and are friends to 
 neither; so between terrestrial and aquatic 
 animals there are tribes that can scarce be 
 referred to any rank, but lead an amphibious 
 life between them. Sometimes in water, 
 sometimes on land, they seem fitted for each 
 element, and yet completely adapted to 
 neither. Wanting the agility of quadrupeds 
 upon land, and the perseverance of fishes in 
 the deep, the variety of their powers only 
 seems to diminish their force ; and, though 
 possessed of two different methods of living, 
 they are more inconveniently provided than 
 such as have but one. 
 
 All quadrupeds of this kind, though cover- 
 ed with hair in the usual manner, are furnish- 
 ed with membranes between the toes, which 
 assist their motion in the water. Their paws 
 are broad and their legs short, by which they 
 
 are more completely fitted for swimming ; for, 
 taking short strokes at a time, they make 
 them oftener and with greater rapidity. Some, 
 however, of these animals are more adapted 
 to live in the water than others ; but, as (heir 
 power increases to live in the deep, their un- 
 fitness for living upon land increases in the 
 same proportion. Some, like the otter, re- 
 semble quadrupeds in every thing except in 
 being in some measure web-footed; others 
 depart still farther, in being, like the beaver, 
 not only web-footed, but having the tail cover- 
 ed with scales, like those of a fish. Others 
 depart yet farther, as the seal and the morse, 
 by having the hind feet stuck to the body 
 like fins ; and others, as the lamentin, almost 
 entirely resemble fishes, by having no hind 
 feet whatsoever. Such are the gradations of 
 the amphibious tribe. They all, however, 
 get their living in the water, either by habit 
 or conformation; they all continue a long 
 time under water ; they all consider that ele- 
 ment as their proper abode; whenever press- 
 ed by danger they fly to the water for secu- 
 rity ; and, when upon land, appear watchful, 
 timorous, and unwieldy. 
 
 THE OTTER. 
 
 IN the first step of the progression from land 
 to amphibious animals, we find the Otter, re- 
 
AMPHIBIOUS QUADRUPEDS. 
 
 387 
 
 sembling those of the terrestrial kind in shape, 
 hair, and internal conformation ; resembling 
 the aquatic tribes in its manner of living, and 
 in having membranes between the toes to as- 
 sist it in swimming. From this peculiar make 
 of its feet, which are very short, it swims even 
 faster than it runs, and can overtake fishes in 
 their own element. The colour of this ani- 
 mal is brown ; and it is somewhat of the shape 
 of an overgrown weasel, being long, slender, 
 and soft-skinned. However, if we examine 
 its figure in detail, we shall find it unlike any 
 other animal hitherto described, and of such a 
 shape as words can but weakly convey. Its 
 usual length is about two feet long, from the 
 tip of the nose to the insertion of the tail ; the 
 head and nose are broad and flat ; the mouth 
 bears some similitude to that of a fish; the 
 neck is short, and equal in thickness to the 
 head ; the body long ; the tail broad at the 
 insertion, but tapering off to a point at the end ; 
 the eyes are very small, and placed nearer the 
 nose than usual in quadrupeds. The legs are 
 very short, but remarkably strong, broad, and 
 muscular. The joints are articulated so loose- 
 ly, that the animal is capable of turning them 
 quite back, and bringing them on line with 
 the body, so as to perform the office of fins. 
 Each foot is furnished with five toes, connect- 
 ed by strong broad webs like those of water- 
 fowl. Thus nature, in every part, has had 
 attention to the life of an animal whose food 
 is fish, and whose haunts must necessarily be 
 about water. 
 
 This voracious animal is never found but at 
 the sides of lakes and rivers, but particularly 
 the former, for it is seldom fond of fishing in 
 a running stream, for the current of the water 
 having more power upon it than the fishes it 
 pursues, if it hunts against the stream, it swims 
 too slow ; and if with the stream, it overshoots 
 its prey. However, when in rivers, it is al- 
 ways observed to swim against the stream, 
 and to meet the fishes it preys upon rather 
 than to pursue them. In lakes it destroys 
 much more than it devours, and is often seen 
 to spoil a pond in the space of a few nights. 
 But the damage they do by destroying fish is 
 not so great as their tearing in pieces the nets 
 of the fishers, which they infalliby do when- 
 ever they happen to be entangled. The 
 instant they find themselves caught, they go 
 to work with their teeth, and in a few mi- 
 ne. 23 & 34 
 
 nutes destroy nets of a very considerable 
 value. 
 
 The otter has two different methods of fish- 
 ing ; the one, by catching its prey from the 
 bottom upward, the other, by pursuing it into 
 some little creek, and seizing it there. In the 
 former case, as this animal has longer lungs 
 than most other quadrupeds, upon taking in 
 a quantity of air, it can remain for some mi- 
 nutes at the bottom ; and whatever fish passes 
 over at that time is certainly taken ; for as 
 the eyes of fish are placed so as not to see under 
 them, the otter attacks them off their guard 
 from below ; and, seizing them at once by the 
 belly, drags them on shore, where it often 
 leaves them untouched, to continue the pur- 
 suit for hours together. The other method is 
 chiefly practised in lakes and ponds, where 
 there is no current ; the fish thus taken are 
 rather of the smaller kind, for the great ones 
 will never be driven out of deep water. 
 
 In this manner, the otter usually lives du- 
 ring the summer, being furnished with a sup- 
 ply much greater than its consumption ; kil- 
 ling for its amusement, and infecting the edges 
 of the lake with quantities of dead fish, which 
 it leaves there as trophies rather of its victory 
 than its necessities. But in winter, when the 
 lakes are frozen over, and the rivers pour with 
 a rapid torrent, the otter is often greatly dis- 
 tressed for provisions ; and is then obliged to 
 live upon grass, weeds, and even the bark of 
 trees. It then comes upon land, and, grown 
 courageous from necessity, feeds upon terres- 
 trial animals, rats, insects, and even sheep them- 
 selves. Nature, however, has given it the pow- 
 er of continuing a long time without food ; and 
 although, during that season, it is not render- 
 ed quite torpid, like the marmout or the dor- 
 mouse, yet it keeps much more within its re- 
 treat, which is usually the hollow of a bank, 
 worn under by the water. There it often 
 forms a kind of gallery, running for several 
 yards along the edge of the water ; so that 
 when attacked at one end, it flies to the other, 
 and often evades the fowler by plunging into 
 the water at forty or fifty paces distant, while 
 he expects to find it just before him. 
 
 We learn from Mr. Buffon, that this animal, 
 in France, couples in winter, and brings forth 
 in the beginning of spring. But it is certain- 
 ly different with us, for its young are never 
 found till the latter end of summer ; and 1 
 
 3N 
 
388 
 
 AMPHIBIOUS QUADRUPEDS. 
 
 have frequently, when a boy, discovered their 
 retreats, and pursued them at that season. 
 I am, therefore, more inclined to follow the 
 account given us of this animal by Mr. Lots, 
 of the Academy of Stockholm, who assures 
 us that it couples ahout the middle of summer, 
 and brings forth at the end of nine weeks, ge- 
 nerally three or four at a time. This, as well 
 as the generality of his other remarks on this 
 subject, agrees so exactly with what I remem- 
 ber concerning it, that I will beg leave to 
 take him for my guide, assuring the reader 
 that, however extraordinary the account may 
 seem, 1 know it to be certainly true. 
 
 In the rivers and the lakes frequented by 
 the otter, the bottom is generally stony and 
 uneven, with many trunks of trees, and long 
 roots stretching underneath the water." The 
 shore also is hollow and scooped inward by 
 the waves. These are the places the otter 
 chiefly chooses for its retreat ; and there is 
 scarce a stone which does not bear the mark 
 of its residence, as upon them its excrements 
 are always made. It is chiefly by this mark 
 that its lurking places are known, as well as 
 by the quantity of dead fish that are found 
 lying here and there upon the banks of the 
 water. To take the old ones alive is no easy 
 task, as they are extremely strong, and there 
 are few dogs that will dare to encounter them. 
 They bite with great fierceness, and never 
 let go their hold when they have once fasten- 
 ed. The best way, therefore, is to shoot 
 them at once, as they never will be thorough- 
 ly tamed ; and, if kept for the purposes of 
 fishing, are always apt to take the first op- 
 portunity of escaping. But the young ones 
 may be more easily taken, arid converted to 
 very useful purposes. The otter brings forth 
 its young generally under the hollow banks, 
 upon a bed of rushes, flags, or such weeds 
 as the place affords it in the greatest quan- 
 tities. I see in the British Zoology a de- 
 scription of its habitation, where that natu- 
 ralist observes. " that it burrows under ground, 
 on the banks of some river or lake, and al- 
 ways makes the entrance of its hole under 
 water, then works up the surface of the earth, 
 and there makes a minute orifice for the ad- 
 mission of air, and this little air-hole is often 
 
 Journal Etranger, Juiii. 1755. p. 14. 
 
 found in the middle of some thicket." In 
 some places this may be true, but I have never 
 observed any such contrivance; the retreat, 
 indeed, was always at the edge of the water, 
 but it was only sheltered by the impending 
 bank; and the otter itself seemed to have 
 but a small share in its formation. But be 
 this as it may, the young ones are always 
 found at the edge of the water; and, if under 
 the protection of her dam, she teaches them 
 instantly to plunge, like herself, into the deep, 
 and escape among the rushes or weeds that 
 fringe the stream. At such times, therefore, 
 it is very difficult to take them; for, though 
 never so young, they swim with great rapi- 
 dity, and in such a manner that no part of 
 them is seen above water, except the tip of 
 the nose. It is only when the dam is absent 
 that they can be taken; and, in some places, 
 there are dogs purposely trained for disco- 
 vering their retreats. Whenever the dog 
 conies to the place, he soon, by his barking, 
 shows that the otter is there ; which, if there 
 be an old one, instantly plunges into the wa- 
 ter, and the young all follow. But, if the 
 old one be absent, they continue terrified, 
 and will not venture forth but under her 
 guidance and protection. In this manner 
 they are secured, and taken home alive, 
 where they are carefully fed with small fish 
 and water. In proportion, however, as they 
 gather strength, they have milk mixed among 
 their food, the quantity of their fish provision 
 is retrenched, and that of vegetables is in- 
 creased, until at length, they are fed wholly 
 upon bread, which perfectly agrees with their 
 constitution. The manner of training them 
 up to hunt for fish requires not only assiduity 
 but patience ; however, their activity and 
 use, when taught, greatly repays the trouble 
 of teaching; and, perhaps, no other animal 
 is more beneficial to his master. The usual 
 way, is, first to learn them to fetch, as dogs 
 are instructed ; but, as they have not the 
 same docility, so it requires more art and ex- 
 perience to teach them. It is usually per- 
 formed by accustoming them to take a truss 
 stuffed with wool, of the shape gf a fish, and 
 made of leather, in their mouths, and to drop 
 it at the word of command ; to run after it 
 when thrown forward, and to bring it to their 
 master. From this they proceed to real fish, 
 
AMPHIBIOUS QUADRUPEDS. 
 
 30i) 
 
 which are thrown dead into the water, and 
 which they are taught to fetch from thence. 
 From the dead they proceed to the live, until 
 at last the animal is perfectly instructed in 
 the whole art of fishing. An otter thus taught 
 is a very valuable animal, and will catch fish 
 enough to sustain not only itself but a whole 
 family. I have seen one of these go to a 
 gentleman's pond at the word of command, 
 drive up the fish into a corner, and seizing 
 upon the largest of the whole, bring it off, in 
 its mouth, to its master. 
 
 Otters are to be met with in most parts of 
 the world, and rather differ in size and colour 
 from each other, than in habitudes or confor- 
 mation." In North America, and Carolina, 
 they are usually found white, inclining to 
 yellow. The Brasilian otter is much larger 
 than ours, with a roundish head, almost like 
 a cat. The tail is shorter, being but five 
 inches long ; and the hair is soft, short, and 
 black, except on the head, where it is of a 
 dark brown, with a yellowish spot under the 
 throat. 
 
 THE BEAVER. 
 
 IN all countries, as man is civilized and 
 improved, the lower ranks are repressed and 
 degraded. 13 Either reduced to servitude, or 
 treated as rebels, all their societies are dis- 
 solved, and all their united talents rendered 
 ineffectual. Their feeble arts quickly disap- 
 pear, and nothing remains but their solitary 
 instincts, or those foreign habitudes which 
 they receive from human education. For 
 this reason there remain no traces of their 
 ancient talents and industry, except in those 
 countries where man himself is a stranger; 
 where, unvisited by his controlling power, for 
 a long succession of ages, their little talents 
 have had time to come to their limited per- 
 fection, and their common designs have been 
 capable of being united. 
 
 The beaver seems to be now the only re- 
 maining monument of brutal society. From 
 the result of its labours, which are still to be 
 seen in the remote parts of America, we learn 
 how far instinct can be aided by imitation. 
 We from thence perceive to what a degree 
 
 Ray. 
 
 t> Buffon. 
 
 animals without language or reason, can con- 
 cur for their mutual advantage, and attain 
 by numbers those advantages which each in 
 a state of solitude seems unfitted to possess. 
 
 If we examine the beaver merely as an 
 individual, and unconnected with others of 
 its kind, we shall find many other quadrupeds 
 to exceed it in cunning, and almost all in the 
 powers of annoyance and defence. The 
 beaver, when taken from its fellows, and kept 
 in a state of solitude or domestic tameness, 
 appears to be a mild, gentle creature, fami- 
 liar enough, but somewhat dull, and even 
 melancholy ; without any violent passions or 
 vehement appetites, moving but seldom, mak- 
 ing no efforts to attain any good, except in 
 gnawing the wall of its prison, in order to re- 
 gain its freedom; yet this, however, without 
 anger or precipation, but calm and indifferent 
 to all about, without attachment or antipa- 
 thies, neither seeking to offend, nor desiring 
 to please. It appears inferior to the dog in 
 those qualities which render animals of ser- 
 vice to man ; it seems made neither to serve, 
 to command, nor to have connections with 
 any other set of beings, and is only adapted 
 for living among its kind. Its talents are 
 entirely repressed in solitude, and are only 
 brought out by society. When alone, it has 
 but little industry, few tricks, and without 
 cunning sufficient to guard it against the most 
 obvious and bungling snares laid for it by the 
 hunter. Far from attacking any other ani- 
 mal, it is scarce possessed of the arts of de- 
 fence. Preferring flight to combat, like all 
 wild animals, it only resists when driven to 
 an extremity, and fights only when its speed 
 can no longer avail. 
 
 But this animal is rather more remarkable 
 for the singularity of its conformation, than 
 any intellectual superiorities it may be sup- 
 posed, in a state of solitude, to possess. The 
 beaver is the only creature among quadru- 
 peds that has a flat broad tail, covered with 
 scales, which serves as a rudder to direct its 
 motions in the water. It is the sole quadru- 
 ped that has membranes between the toes on 
 the hind feet only, and none on the fore feet, 
 which supply the place of hands, as in the 
 squirrel. In short, it is the only animal that 
 in its fore parts entirely resembles a quad- 
 ruped, and in its hinder parts seems to ap- 
 3N* 
 
390 
 
 AMPHIBIOUS QUADRUPEDS. 
 
 proach the nature of fishes, by having a scaly 
 tail. In other respects, it is about two feet 
 long and near one foot high ; it is somewhat 
 shaped like a rat, except the tail, which, as 
 has been observed, is flat and scaly, some- 
 what resembling a neat's tongue at the point. 
 Its colour is of a light brown, the hair of two 
 sorts ; the one longer and coarser ; the other 
 soft, fine, short, and silky. The teeth are 
 like those of a rat or a squirrel, but longer and 
 stronger, and admirably adapted to cutting 
 timber or stripping bark, to which purposes 
 they are constantly applied. One singularity 
 more may be mentioned in its conformation ; 
 which is, that like birds, it has but one and 
 the same vent for the emission of its excre- 
 ments and its urine; a strange peculiarity, 
 but which anatomists leave us no room to 
 doubt of. 
 
 The beavers begin to assemble about the 
 months of June and July, to form a society 
 that is to continue for the greatest part of the 
 year. They arrive in numbers from every 
 side, and generally form a company of above 
 two hundred. The place of meeting is com- 
 monly the place where they fix their abode, 
 and this is always by the side of some lake or 
 river. If it be a lake in which the waters are 
 always upon a level, they dispense with build- 
 ing a dam ; but if it be a running stream, 
 which is subject to floods and falls, they then 
 set about building a dam, or pier, that crosses 
 the river, so that it forms a dead water in 
 that part which lies above and below. This 
 dam, or pier, is often fourscore or a hundred 
 feet long, and ten or twelve feet thick at the 
 base. If we compare the greatness of the 
 work with the powers of the architect, it will 
 appear enormous; but the solidity with which 
 it is built is still more astonishing than its size. 
 The part of the river over which this dam is 
 usually built, is where it is most shallow, and 
 where some great tree is found growing by 
 the side of the stream. This they pitch upon 
 as proper for making the principal part in 
 their building; and, although it is often thicker 
 than a man's body, they instantly set about 
 cutting it down. For this operation they 
 have no other instrument but their teeth, 
 which soon lay it level, and that also on the 
 side they wish it to fall, which is always across 
 the stream They then fall about cutting 
 
 off the top branches, to make it lie close and 
 even, and serve as the principal beam of their 
 fabric." 
 
 This dike, or causey, is sometimes ten, and 
 sometimes twelve feet thick at the foundation. 
 It descends in a declivity, or slope, on that 
 side next the water, which gravitates upon 
 the work in proportion to the height, and 
 presses it with a prodigious force towards 
 the earth. The opposite side is erected per- 
 pendicular, like our walls; and that declivity, 
 which, at the bottom, or basis, is about twelve 
 feet broad, diminishes towards the top, where 
 it is no more than two feet broad, or there- 
 abouts. The materials whereof this mole 
 consists, are wood and clay. The beavers 
 cut, with surprising ease, large pieces of 
 wood, some as thick as one's, arm or thigh, 
 and about four, five, or six feet in length, or 
 sometimes more, according as the slope 
 ascends. They drive one end of these stakes 
 into the ground, at a small distance one from 
 the other, intermingling a few with them that 
 are smaller and more pliant. As the water, 
 however, would find a passage through the 
 intervals or spaces between them, and leave 
 the reservoir dry, they have recourse to a 
 clay, which they know where to find, and 
 with which they stop up all the cavities both 
 within and without, so that the water is duly 
 confined. They continue to raise the dike 
 in proportion to the elevation of the water 
 and the plenty which they have of it. They 
 are conscious, likewise, that the conveyance 
 of their materials by land would not be so 
 easily accomplished as by water ; and there- 
 fore they take the advantage of its increase, 
 and swim with their mortar on their tails, 
 and their, stakes between their teeth, to the 
 places where there is most occasion for them. 
 If their works are, either by the force of the 
 water or the feet of the huntsmen, who run 
 over them, in the least damnified, the breach 
 is instantly made up ; every nook and corner 
 of the habitation is reviewed, and, with the 
 utmost diligence and application, perfectly 
 repaired. But when they find the huntsmen 
 visit them too often, they work only in the 
 night time, or else abandon their works en- 
 tirely, and seek out for some safer situation. 
 
 a Spectacle de la Nature. 
 
AMPHIBIOUS QUADRUPEDS. 
 
 391 
 
 The dike, or mole, being thus completed, 
 their next care is to erect their several apart- 
 ments, which are either round or oval, and 
 divided into three stories, one raised above the 
 other : the first belov the level of the causey, 
 which is for the most part full of water ; the 
 other two above it. This little fabric is built 
 in a very firm and substantial manner, on the 
 edge of their reservoir, and always in such 
 divisions or apartments as above mentioned ; 
 that, in case of the water's increase, they may 
 move up a story higher, and be no ways in- 
 commoded. If they find any little island con- 
 tiguous to their reservoir, they fix their man- 
 sion there, which is then more solid, and not 
 so frequently exposed to the overflowing of the 
 water, in which they are not able to continue 
 for any length of time. In case they cannot 
 pitch upon so commodious a situation, they 
 drive piles into the earth, in order to fence and 
 fortify their habitation against the wind as well 
 as the water. They make two apertures, at 
 the bottom, to the stream ; one is a passage to 
 their bagnio, which they always keep neat 
 and clean ; the other leads to that part of the 
 building where every thing is conveyed, that 
 will either soil or damage their upper apart- 
 ments. They have a third opening, or door- 
 way, much higher, contrived for the preven- 
 tion of their being shut up and confined, when 
 the frost and snow has closed the apertures of 
 the lower floors. Sometimes they build their 
 houses altogether upon dry land ; but then 
 they sink trenches five or six feet deep, in order 
 to descend into the water when they see con- 
 venient. They make use of the same mate- 
 rials ; and are equally industrious in the erec- 
 tion of their lodges, as their dikes. Their walls 
 are perpendicular, and about two feet thick. 
 As their teeth are more serviceable than saws, 
 they cut off all the wood that projects beyond 
 the wall. After this, when they have mixed 
 up some clay and dry grass together, they 
 work it into a kind of mortar, with which, by 
 the help of their tails, they plaster all their 
 works, both within and without. 
 
 The inside is vaulted, and is large enough 
 for the reception of eight or ten beavers. In 
 case it rises in an oval figure, it is for the 
 generality abovf twelve feet long, and eight or 
 ten feet broad. If the number of inhabitants 
 increase to fifteen, twenty, or thirty, the edifice 
 is enlarged in proportion. I have been credibly 
 
 informed, that four hundred beavers have been 
 discovered to reside in one large mansion- 
 house, divided into a vast number of apart- 
 ments, that had a free communication one with 
 another. 
 
 All these works, more especially in the 
 northern parts, are finished in August, or Sep- 
 tember at farthest ; at which time they begin 
 to lay in their stores. During the summer 
 they are perfect epicures; and regale them- 
 selves every day on the choicest fruits and 
 plants the country affords. Their provisions, 
 indeed, in the winter season, principally consist 
 of the wood of the birch, the plane, and some 
 few other trees, which they steep in water, 
 from time to lime, in such quantities as are 
 proportioned to the number of inhabitants. 
 They cut down branches from three to ten 
 feet in length. Those of the largest dimensions 
 are conveyed to their magazines by a whole 
 body of beavers ; but the smallest by one only : 
 each of them, however, takes a different way, 
 mid has his proper walk assigned him, in order 
 that no one labourer should interrupt another 
 in the prosecution of his work. Their wood- 
 yards are larger or smaller, in proportion to 
 the number in the family : and, according to 
 the observation of some curious naturalists, 
 the usual stock of timber, for the accommoda- 
 tion of ten beavers, consists of about thirty feet 
 in a square surface, and ten in depth. These 
 logs are not thrown up in one continued pile, 
 but laid one across the other, with intervals, 
 or small spaces between them, in order to 
 take out, with the greater facility, but just such 
 a quantity as they shall want for their imme- 
 diate consumption, and those parcels only, 
 which lie at the bottom in the water, and have 
 been duly steeped. This timber is cut again 
 into small particles, and conveyed to one of 
 their largest lodges, where the whole family 
 meet, to consume their respective dividends, 
 which are made impartially, in even and equal 
 portions. Sometimes they traverse the woods, 
 and regale their young with a more novel and 
 elegant entertainment. 
 
 Such as are used to hunt these animals, 
 know perfectly well that green wood is much 
 more acceptable to them than that which is 
 old and dry ; for which reason they plant a 
 considerable quantity of it round their lodge- 
 ments ; and as they come out to partake of it, 
 they either catch them in snares, or take them 
 
392 
 
 AMPHIBIOUS QUADRUPEDS. 
 
 by surprise. In the winter, when the frosts 
 are very severe, they sometimes break a large 
 hole in the ice ; and when the beavers resort 
 thither for the benefit of a little fresh air, 
 they either kill them with their hatchets, or 
 cover them with a large substantial net. Af- 
 ter this, they undermine and subvert the 
 whole fabric; whereupon the beavers, in 
 hopes to make their escape in the usual way, 
 fly with the utmost precipitation to the water; 
 and plunging into the aperture, fall directly 
 into the net, and are inevitably taken. 
 
 THE SEAL. 
 
 EVERY step we proceed in the description 
 of amphibious quadrupeds, we make nearer 
 advances to the tribe of fishes. We first ob- 
 served the otter with its feet webbed, and 
 formed for an aquatic life ; we next saw the 
 beaver with the hinder parts covered with 
 scales, resembling those of fishes; and we 
 now come to a class of animals in which the 
 shape and habitude of fishes still more ap- 
 parently prevail, and whose internal confor- 
 mation attaches them very closely to the wa- 
 ter. The seal, in general, resembles a quad- 
 ruped in some respects, and a fish in others. 
 The head is round, like that of a man ; the 
 nose broad, like that of the otter; the teeth 
 like those of a dog ; the eyes large and spark- 
 ling; no external ears, but holes that serve 
 for that purpose; the neck is well propor- 
 tioned, and of a moderate length ; but the 
 body thickest where the neck is joined to it. 
 From thence the animal tapers down to the 
 tail, growing all the way smaller like a fish. 
 .The whole body is covered with a thick, 
 bristly shining hair, which looks as if it were 
 entirely rubbed over with oil ; and thus far 
 the quadruped prevails over the aquatic. 
 But it is in the feet that this animal greatly 
 differs from all the rest of the quadruped 
 kind; for though furnished with the same 
 number of bones with other quadrupeds, yet 
 they are so stuck on the body, and so cover- 
 ed with a membrane, that they more resem- 
 ble fins than feet ; and might be taken for 
 such, did not the claws with which they are 
 pointed show their proper analogy. In the 
 fore feet, or rather hands, all the arm and 
 
 the cubit are hid under the skin, and nothing 
 appears but the hand from the wrist down- 
 wards; so that if we imagine a child with its 
 arms swathed down, and nothing appearing 
 but its hands at each side of the body, to- 
 wards the breast, we may have some idea of 
 the formation of this animal in that part. 
 These hands are covered in a thick skin, 
 which serves like a fin for swimming; and 
 are distinguished by five claws, which are 
 long, black, and piercing. As to Ihe hind 
 feet, they are. stretched out on each side of 
 the short tail, covered with a hairy skin like 
 the former, and both together almost joining 
 at the tail ; the whole looks like the broad, 
 flat tail of a fish; and, were it not for five 
 claws which appear, might be considered as 
 such. The dimensions of this animal are 
 various, being found from four feet long to 
 nine. They differ also in their colours ; 
 some being black, others spotted, some white, 
 and many more yellow. It would, therefore, 
 be almost endless to mention the varieties of 
 this animal. Buffbn describes three; and 
 Krantz mentions five, all different from those 
 described by the other. I might, were I fond 
 of such honours, claim the merit of being a 
 first describer myself ; but, in fact, the varie- 
 ties in this animal are so many, that were 
 they all described, the catalogue would be 
 as extensive as it would be useless and un- 
 entertaining. It is sufficient to observe, that 
 they agree in the general external characters 
 already mentioned, and internally in two or 
 three more, which are so remarkable as to 
 deserve peculiar attention. 
 
 It has been often remarked, that all ani- 
 mals are sagacious in proportion to the size 
 of their brain. It has, in support of this 
 opinion, been alleged, that man, with respect 
 to his bulk, has, of all others, the largest. In 
 pursuance of this assumption, some erroneous 
 speculations have been formed. But, were 
 the size of the brain to determine the quantity 
 of the understanding, the seal would, of all 
 other animals, be the most sagacious; for it 
 has, in proportion, the largest brain of any, 
 even man himself not excepted. However, 
 this animal is possessed of but very few ad- 
 vantages over other quadrupeds; and the size 
 of its brain furnishes it with few powers that 
 contribute to its wisdom or its preservation 
 
AMPHIBIOUS QUADRUPEDS. 
 
 393 
 
 This animal differs also in the formation of 
 its tongue from all other quadrupeds. It is 
 forked or slit at the end, like that of serpents ; 
 but for what purpose it is thus singularly con- 
 trived we are at a loss to know. We are 
 much better informed with respect to a third 
 singularity in its conformation, which is, that 
 the foramen ovale in the heart is open. Those 
 who are in the least acquainted with anatomy, 
 know, that the veins uniting bring their blood 
 to the heart, which sends it into the lungs, and 
 from thence it returns to the heart again to be 
 distributed through the whole body. Ani- 
 mals, however, before they are born, make no 
 use of their lungs ; and therefore their blood, 
 without entering their lungs, takes a shorter 
 passage through the very partition of the heart, 
 from one of its chambers to the other, thus 
 passing from the veins directly into those 
 vessels that drive it through the whole frame. 
 But the moment the animal is brought forth, 
 the passage through the partition, which pass- 
 age is called the. foramen ovale, closes up, and 
 continues closed for ever ; for the blood then 
 takes its longest course through the lungs to 
 return to the other chamber of the heart again. 
 Now the seal's heart resembles that of an infant 
 in the womb, for the foramen ovale never 
 closes ; a and although the blood of this ani- 
 mal commonly circulates through the lungs, 
 yet it can circulate without their assistance, as 
 was observed above, by a shorter way. From 
 hence, therefore, we see the manner in which 
 this animal is adapted for continuing under 
 water; for, being under no immediate neces- 
 sity of breathing, the vital motions are still 
 carried on while it continues at the bottom ; 
 so that it can pursue its prey in that element, 
 and yet enjoy all the delights and advantages 
 of ours. 
 
 The water is the seal's usual habitation, and 
 whatever fish it can catch is its food. Though 
 not equal in instinct and cunning to some ter- 
 restrial animals, it is greatly superior to the 
 mute tenants of that element in which it chiefly 
 resides. Although it can continue for several 
 minutes under water, yet it is not able, like 
 fishes, to remain there for any length of 
 time ; and a seal may be drowned, like any 
 
 * I have followed the usual observations of naturalists 
 with respect to the foramen ovalf in this animal : I have 
 many reasons, however, to incline me to think that the 
 
 other terrestrial animal. Thus it seems supe- 
 rior, in some respects, to the inhabitants of 
 both elements, and inferior in many more. 
 Although furnished with legs, it is in some 
 measure deprived of all the advantages of 
 them. b They are shut up within its body, 
 while nothing appears but the extremities of 
 them, and these furnished with very little mo- 
 tion, but to serve them as fins in the water. 
 The hind feet, indeed, being turned backwards, 
 are entirely useless upon land ; so that w hen 
 the animal is obliged to move, it drags itself 
 forward like a reptile, and with an effort more 
 painful. For this purpose it is obliged to use 
 its fore feet, which, though very short, serve 
 to give it such a degree of swiftness that a man 
 cannot readily overtake it ; and it runs towards 
 the sea. As it is thus awkwardly formed for 
 going upon land, it is seldom found at any 
 distance from the sea shore, but continues to 
 bask upon the rocks ; and, when disturbed, 
 always plunges down at once to the bottom. 
 
 The seal is a social animal, and w herever it 
 frequents numbers are generally seen together. 
 They are found in every climate, but in the 
 north and icy seas they are particularly 
 numerous. It is on those shores, which are 
 less inhabited than ours, and where the fish 
 resort in greater abundance, that they are seen 
 by thousands, like flocks of sheep, basking on 
 the rocks, and suckling their young. There 
 they keep watch like other gregarious animals ; 
 and, if an enemy appear, instantly plunge 
 altogether into the water. In fine weather 
 they more usually employ their time in fish- 
 ing ; and generally come on shore in tempests 
 and storms. The seal seems the only animal 
 that takes delight in these tremendous con- 
 flicts of nature. In the midst of thunders and 
 torrents, when every other creature takes 
 refuge from the fury of the elements, the seals 
 are seen by thousands sporting along the shore, 
 and delighted with the universal disorder ! 
 This, however, may arise from the sea being 
 at that time too turbulent for them to reside 
 in ; and they may then particularly come upon 
 land when unable to resist the shock of their 
 more usual element. 
 
 As seals are gregarious, so they are also ani- 
 
 foramen is not entirely open. But this is not the place for 
 a critical inquiry of this kind. 
 b Buffon. 
 
394 
 
 AMPHIBIOUS QUADRUPEDS. 
 
 mals of passage, and perhaps the only quad- 
 rupeds that migrate from one part of the world 
 to another. The generality of quadrupeds are 
 contented with their native plains and forests, 
 and seldom stray, except when necessity or 
 fear impels them. But seals change their habi- 
 tation ; and are seen in vast multitudes direct- 
 ing their course from one continent to another." 
 On the northern coasts of Greenland they are 
 seen to retire in July, and to return again in 
 September. This time it is supposed they go 
 in pursuit of food. But they make a second 
 departure in March to cast their young, and 
 return in the beginning of June, young and 
 all, in a great body together, observing in their 
 route a certain fixed time and track, like birds 
 of passage. When they go upon this expedi- 
 tion, they are seen in great droves, for many- 
 days together, making towards the north, 
 taking that part of the sea most free from ice, 
 and going still forward into those seas where 
 man cannot follow. In what manner they re- 
 turn, or by what passage, is utterly unknown ; 
 it is only observed, that when they leave the 
 coasts to go upon this expedition, they are all 
 extremely fat, but on their return, they come 
 home excessively lean. 
 
 The females, in our climate, bring forth in 
 winter, and rear their young upon some sand- 
 bank, rock, or desolate island, at some distance 
 from the continent. When they suckle their 
 young they sit up on the hinder legs, while 
 these, which are at first white, with woolly 
 hair, cling to the teats, of which there are four 
 in number, near the navel." In this manner 
 the young continue in the place where they 
 are brought forth, for twelve or fifteen days ; 
 after which the dam brings them down to the 
 water, and accustoms them to swim and get 
 their food by their own industry. As each 
 litter never exceeds above three or four, so the 
 animal's cares are not much divided, and the 
 education of her little ones is soon completed. 
 In fact, the young are particularly docile ; 
 they understand the mother's voice among the 
 numerous bleatings of the rest of the old ones ; 
 they mutually assist each other in danger, and 
 are perfectly obedient to her call. Thus early 
 accustomed to subjection, they continue to live 
 in society, hunt and breed together, and have 
 
 Krar.tz, vol. i. p. 129. 
 
 b Coeunt in littore resupinata femina. LIN. SVST. 
 
 a variety of tones by which they encourage to 
 pursue or warn e^ch other of danger. Some 
 compare their voices to the bleating of a flock 
 of sheep, interrupted now and then by the 
 barking of angry dogs, and sometimes the 
 shriller notes of a cat/ All along the shore, 
 each has its own peculiar roek, of which it 
 takes possession, and where it sleeps when 
 fatigued with fishing, uninterrupted by any of 
 the rest. The only season when their social 
 spirit seems to forsake them, is that when they 
 feel the influences of natural desire. They 
 then fight most desperately; and the male that 
 is victorious keeps all the females to himself. 
 Their combats, on these occasions, are managed 
 with great obstinacy, and yet great justice", 
 two are never seen to fall upon one together ; 
 but each has its antagonist, and all fight an 
 equal battle, till one alone becomes victo- 
 rious. 
 
 We are not certainly informed how long the 
 females continue pregnant ; but if we may 
 judge from the time which intervenes between 
 their departure from the Greenland coasts and 
 their return, they cannot go above seven or 
 eight months at the farthest. How long this 
 animal lives is also unknown: a gentleman, 
 whom I knew in Ireland, kept two of th< m, 
 which he had taken very young, in his house 
 for ten years ; and they appeared to have the 
 marks of age at the time I saw them, for they 
 were grown gray about the muzzle ; and it is 
 very probable they did not live many years 
 longer. In their natural state the old ones are 
 seen very fat and torpid, separated from the 
 rest, and, as it should seem, incapable of pro- 
 creation. 
 
 As their chief food is fish, so they are very 
 expert at pursuing and catching it. In those 
 places where the herrings are seen in shoals, 
 the seals frequent and destroy them by thou- 
 sands. When the herring retires, the seal is 
 then obliged to hunt after fish that are stronger 
 and more capable of evading the pursuit : d 
 however, they are very swift in deep waters, 
 dive with great rapidity, and, while the spec- 
 tator eyes the spot at which they disappear, 
 they are seen to emerge at above a hundred 
 yards distance. The weaker fishes, therefore, 
 have no other means to escape their tyranny, 
 
 c Linna>i Syst. 
 
 d British Zoology, vol. i. p. 75. 
 
AMPHIBIOUS QUADRUPEDS. 
 
 395 
 
 but by darting into the shallows. The seal 
 has been seen to pursue a mullet, which is a 
 swift swimmer, and to turn it to and fro, in 
 deep water, as a hound does a hare on land. 
 The mullet has been seen trying every art 
 of evasion; and at last swimming into shal- 
 low water, in hopes of escaping. There, how- 
 ever, the seal followed ; so that the little ani- 
 mal had no other way left to escape, but to 
 throw itself on one side, by which means it 
 darted into shoaler water than it could have 
 swam in with the belly undermost; and thus 
 at last it got free. 
 
 As they are thus the tyrants of the element 
 in which they chiefly reside, so they are not 
 very fearful even upon land, except on those 
 shores which are thickly inhabited, and from 
 whence they have been frequently pursued. 
 Along the desert coasts, where they are sel- 
 dom interrupted by man, they seem to be 
 very bold and courageous ; if attacked with 
 stones, like dogs, tfu y bite such as are thrown 
 against them; if encountered more closely, 
 they make a desperate resistance, and, while 
 they have any life, attempt to annoy their 
 enemy. Some have been known, even while 
 they were skinning, to turn round and seize 
 their butchers; but they are generally des- 
 patched by a stunning blow on the nose. 
 They usually sleep soundly when not fre- 
 quently disturbed; and that is the time when 
 the hunters surprise them. The Europeans 
 who go into the Greenland seas upon the 
 whale-fishery, surround them with nets, and 
 knock them on the head ; but the Green- 
 landers, who are unprovided with so expen- 
 sive an apparatus, destroy them in a different 
 manner. One of these little men paddles 
 away in his boat, and when he sees a seal 
 asleep on the side of a rock, darts his lance, 
 and that with such unerring aim, that it never 
 fails to bury its point in the animal's side. 
 The seal, feeling itself wounded, instantly 
 plunges from the top of the rock, lance and 
 all, into the sea, and dives to the bottom ; but 
 the lance has a bladder tied to one end, 
 which keeps buoyant, and resists the animal's 
 descent; so that every time the seal rises to 
 the top of the water the Greenlander strikes 
 it with his oar, until he at last despatches it. 
 But in our climate, the seals are much more 
 wary, and seldom suffer the hunters to come 
 
 NO. 33 & 34. 
 
 near them. They are often seen upon the 
 rocks of the Cornish coast, basking in the 
 sun, or upon the inaccessible cliffs, left dry 
 by the tide. There they continue, extremely 
 watchful, and nev ersleep long without moving; 
 seldom longer than a minute ; for then they 
 raise their heads, and if they see no danger, 
 they lie down again, raising and reclining 
 their heads alternately, at intervals of about 
 a minute each. The only method, therefore, 
 that can be taken, is to shoot them : if they 
 chance to escape, they hasten towards the 
 deep, flinging stones and dirt behind them as 
 they scramble along, and at the same time 
 expressing their pain, or their fears, by 
 the most distressful cry; if they happen to 
 be overtaken, they make a vigorous resist- 
 ance w ith their feet and teeth, till they are 
 killed. 
 
 The seal is taken for the sake of its skin, 
 and for the oil its fat yields. The former 
 sells for about four shillings ; and, when dres- 
 sed, is very useful in covering trunks, making 
 waistcoats, shot-pouches, and several other 
 conveniences. The flesh of this animal for- 
 merly found place at the tables of the great. 
 At a feast provided by Archbishop Neville, 
 for Edward the Fourth, there were twelve 
 seals and porpoises provided, among other 
 extraordinary rarities. 
 
 As a variety of this animal, we may men- 
 tion the SEA-LION, described in Anson's Voy- 
 ages. This is much larger than any of the 
 former ; being from eleven to eighteen feet 
 long. It is so fat that, when the skin is taken 
 oft , the blubber lies a foot thick all round the 
 body. It seems to differ from the ordinary 
 seal, not only in its size, but also in its food ; 
 for it is often seen to graze along the shore, 
 and to feed upon the long grass that grows 
 up along the edges of brooks. Its cry is 
 very various, sometimes resembling the neigh- 
 ing of a horse, and sometimes the grunting of 
 a hog. It may be regarded as the largest 
 of the seal family. 
 
 THE MORSE 
 
 THE Morse is an animal of the seal kind; 
 but differing from the rest, in a very particular 
 formation of the teeth, having two large tusks 
 30 
 
390 
 
 AMPHIBIOUS QUADRUPEDS. 
 
 growing from the upper jaw, shaped like those 
 of mi elephant, but clireeted downwards; 
 whereas, in the elephant, they grow upright, 
 like horns ; it also wants the cutting teeth, 
 both above and below : as to the rest, it pretty 
 much resembles a seal, except that it is much 
 larger, being from twelve to sixteen feet long. 
 The morses are also generally seen to frequent 
 the same places that seals are known to reside 
 in ; they have the same habitudes, the same 
 advantages, and thesameimperfections. There 
 are, however, fewer varieties of tiie morse 
 than the seal ; and they are rarely found, ex- 
 cept in the frozen regions near the pole. They 
 were formerly more numerous than at present; 
 and the savage natives of the coasts of Green- 
 land destroyed them in much greater quantities 
 before those seas were visited by European 
 ships upon the whale fishery, than now. 
 Whether these animals have been since actually 
 thinned by the fishers, or have removed to 
 some more distant and unfrequented shores, is 
 not known ; but certain it is, that the Green- 
 landers, who once had plenty, are now obliged 
 to toil more assiduously for subsistence ; and 
 as the quantity of their provisions decrease, for 
 they live mostly upon seals, the numbers of 
 that poor people are every day diminishing. 
 As to the teeth, they are generally from two to 
 three feet long ; and the ivory is much more 
 esteemed than that of the elephant, being 
 whiter and harder. The fishers have been 
 known formerly to kill three or four hundred 
 at once ; and along those shores where they 
 chiefly frequented, their bones are still seen 
 lying in prodigious quantities. In this man- 
 ner a supply of provisions, which would have 
 supported the Greenland nation for ages, has 
 been, in a few years, sacrificed to those who 
 did not. use them, but who sought them for 
 the purposes of avarice and luxury ! 
 
 THE MANATI. 
 
 WE come, in the last place, to an animal 
 that terminates the boundary between quad- 
 rupeds and fishes. Instead of a creature prey- 
 ing amon.'; the deeps, and retiring upon land 
 for repose or refreshment, we have here an 
 animal that never leaves the water, and is en- 
 abled to live only there. It cannot be called a 
 quadruped, as it has but two legs only ; nor 
 
 can it be called a fish, as it is covered with 
 hair. In short, it forms the link that unites 
 those two great tribes to each other; and may- 
 be indiscriminately called the last of beasts, or 
 the first of fishes. 
 
 We ha\ e seen the seal approaching nearly 
 to the aquatic tribes, by having its hind legs 
 throsvn back on each side of the tail, and firm- 
 ing something that resembled the tail of a fish : 
 but upon examining the skeleton of that ani- 
 mal, its title to the rank of a quadruped was 
 observed plainly to appear, having all the bones 
 of the hinder legs and feet as complete as any 
 other animal whatsoever. 
 
 But we are now come to a creature that not 
 only wants the external appearance of hinder 
 legs, but, when examined internally, will be 
 found to want 'them altogether. The manati 
 is somewhat shaped in the head and the body 
 like a seal ; it has also the fore legs or hands pretty 
 much in the same manner, short and webbed, 
 but with four claws only ; these also are shorter 
 in proportion than in the former animal, and 
 placed nearer the head ; so that they can 
 scarcely assist its motions upon hind. But it 
 is in the hinder parts that it chiefly differs from 
 all others of the seal kind ; for the tail is per- 
 fectly that of a fish, being spread out broad 
 like a fan, and wanting even the vestiges of 
 those bones which make the legs and feet in 
 others of its kind. The largest of these are 
 about twenty-six feet in length ; the skin is 
 blackish, very tough and hard ; when cut, as 
 black as ebony ; and there arc a few hairs 
 scattered, like bristles, of about an inch long. 
 The eyes are very small, in proportion to the 
 animal's head ; and the ear-lioles, for it has no 
 external ears, are so narrow as scarcely toadmit 
 a pin's head. The tongue is so short, that 
 some have pretended it has none at all ; and 
 the teeth are composed only of two solid white 
 bones, running the whole length of both jaws, 
 and formed merely for chewing, and not tear- 
 ing its vegetable food. The female has breasts 
 placed forward, like those of a woman ; and 
 she brings forth but one at a time : this she 
 holds with her paws to her bosom ; there it 
 sticks, and accompanies hrr wherever she goes. 
 
 This animal can scarcely be called amphibi- 
 ous, as it never entirely leaves the water, only 
 advancing the head out of the stream to reach 
 the grass on the river sides. Its food is entirely 
 upon vegetables; and, therefore, it is never 
 
AMPHIBIOUS QUADRUPEDS. 
 
 397 
 
 found far in the open sea, but chiefly in the 
 large rivers of South America ; and often 
 above two thousand miles from the ocean. 
 It is also found in the seas near Kamtschatka, 
 and feeds upon the weeds that grow near the 
 shore. There are likewise level greens at the 
 bottom of some of the Indian bays, and there the 
 manaties are harmlessly seen grazing among 
 turtles and other crustaccous fishes, neither 
 giving nor fearing any disturbance. These 
 animals, when unmolested, keep together in 
 large companies, and surround their young 
 ones. 1 They bring forth most commonly in 
 autumn; and it is supposed they go with young 
 eighteen months, for the time of generation is 
 in spring. 
 
 The rnanati has no voice nor cry, for the 
 only noise it makes, is by fetching its breath. 
 Its internal parts somewhat resemble those of 
 a horse ; its intestines being longer, in propor- 
 tion, than those of any other creature, the 
 horse only excepted. 
 
 The fat of the manati, which lies under the 
 skin, when exposed to the sun, has a fine smell 
 
 Acta Petropolitana. 
 
 [To these amphibious quadrupeds may be added that 
 most extraordinary animal, the DUCK-BILLED PLATYPUS, 
 described by Dr. Shaw in his Naturalist's Miscellany. The 
 body is depressed, and has some resemblance to that of 
 an otter in ininature; and is covered with a soft beaver- 
 like fur : but its most striking peculiarity is the strange 
 
 and taste, and far exceeds the fat of any sea 
 animal ; it has this peculiar property, that the 
 heat of the sun will not spoil it, nor make it 
 grow rancid ; its taste is like the oil of sweet 
 almonds ; and it will serve very well, in all 
 cases, instead of butter: any quanlity may be 
 taken inwardly with safety, for it has no other 
 effect than keeping the body open. The fat 
 of the tail is of a harder consistence ; and, 
 when boiled, is more delicate than the former. 
 The lean is like beef, but more red ; and may 
 be kept a long while, in the hottest days, with- 
 out tainting. It takes up a long time in boil- 
 ing ; and, when done, eats like beef. The fat 
 of the young ones is like pork ; the lean is like 
 veal ; and, upon the whole, it is very probable 
 that this animal's flesh somewhat resembles 
 that of turtle ; since they are fed in the same 
 element, and upon the very same food. The 
 turtle is a delicacy well known among us : 
 our luxuries are not as yet sufficiently height- 
 ened to introduce the manati ; which, if it 
 could be brought over, might singly suffice for 
 a whole corporation ! 
 
 situation of its mouth or snout, exhibiting the perfect re- 
 semblance of the beak of a duck engrafted on the head 
 of a quadruped ; and so accurate is the similitude, that 
 at first view it naturally excites the idea of some deceptive 
 preparation by -artificial means. It is a native of New 
 Holland.! 
 
 3O* 
 
398 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 OF THE MONKEY KIND, THE ELEPHANT, RHINOCEROS, 
 
 &c. &c. 
 
 CHAPTER LV1II. 
 
 ANIMALS OF THE MONKEY KIND. 
 
 QUADRUPEDS may be considered as a 
 numerous group, terminated on every side by 
 some that but in part deserve the name. On 
 one quarter we see a tribe covered with quills, 
 or furnished with wings, that lift them among 
 the inhabitants of the air ; on another, we be- 
 hold a diversity clothed with scales and shells, 
 to rank with insects ; and still, on a third, we 
 see them descending into the waters, to live 
 among the mute tenants of that element. We 
 now come to a numerous tribe that, leaving 
 the brute creation, seem to make approaches 
 even to humanity ; that bear an awkward re- 
 semblance of the human form, and discover 
 some faint efforts at intellectual sagacity. 
 
 Animals of the monkey class are furnished 
 with hands instead of paws ; their ears, eyes, 
 eyelids, lips, and breasts, are like those of 
 mankind ; their internal conformation also 
 bears some distant likeness ; and the. whole 
 offers a picture that may well mortify the pride 
 of such as make their persons alone the princi- 
 pal object of their admiration. These ap- 
 proaches, however, are gradual ; and some 
 bear the marks of this our boasted form more 
 strongly than others. 
 
 In the Ape a kind we see the whole external 
 machine strongly impressed with the human 
 
 a Caubasson relates a laughable story of an ape, which 
 became so attached to him, as to be desirous of accom- 
 panying him wherever he went. Once the animal secretly 
 followed the father to church, where silently mounting on 
 the top of the sounding-board above the pulpit, he lay per- 
 fectly still till the sermon began. He then crept to the 
 edge, and overlooking the preacher, imitated all his ges- 
 tures in so grotesque a manner, that the whole congrega- 
 tion were unavoidably excited to laugh. The father, sur- 
 prised at this ill-timid levity, reproved his audience. The 
 
 likeness, and capable of the same exertions : 
 these walk upright, want a tail, have fleshy 
 posteriors, have calves to their legs, and feet 
 nearly like ours. 
 
 In the Baboon kind we perceive a more dis- 
 tant approach to the human form ; the quad- 
 ruped mixing in every part of the animal's 
 figure : these generally go upon all-fours ; but 
 some, when upright, are as tall as a man ; 
 they have short tails, long snouts, and are pos- 
 sessed of brutal fierceness. 
 
 The Monkey kind are removed a step fur- 
 ther: these are much less than the former, 
 with tails as long, or longer, than their bodies, 
 and flatfish faces. 
 
 Lastly, the Maki and Opossum kind, seem 
 to lose all resemblance of the human figure, 
 except in having hands; their noses are length- 
 ened out, like those of quadrupeds, and every 
 part of their bodies totally different from the 
 human ; however, as they grasp their food, or 
 other objects, with one hand, which quadru- 
 peds cannot do, this single similitude gives 
 them an air of sagacity, to which they have 
 scarcely any other pretensions. 
 
 From tin's slight survey, it may be easily 
 seen that one general description will not serve 
 for animals so very different from each other : 
 
 reproof failed in its effect, for the congregation still laugh- 
 ed, and the preacher in the warmth of his zeal redoubled 
 his actions and his vociferations. These the ape so ex- 
 actly imitated, that all respect for their pastor was swal- 
 lowed up in the scene before them, and they burst out 
 into a loud and continued roar of laughter. A friend of 
 the preacher at length pointing out to him the cause of 
 this improper conduct, it was with the utmost difficulty he 
 could c.mimand a serious countenance, while he ordered 
 the servants of the church to take the ape away. 
 
THE MONKEY KIND 
 
 399 
 
 nevertheless, it would be fatiguing to the last 
 degree, as their varieties are so numerous, and 
 their differences so small, to go through a par- 
 ticular description of each. In this case it will 
 be best to give a history of the foremost in 
 each class ; at the same time marking the dis- 
 tinctions in every species. By this we shall 
 avoid a tedious repetition of similar characters, 
 and consider the manners and the oddities of 
 .his fantastic tribe in general points of view ; 
 where we shall perceive how nearly they ap- 
 proach to the human figure, and how little 
 they benefit by the approximation. The fore- 
 most of the Ape kind is 
 
 THE OURAN OUTANG, 
 
 OR WILD MAN OF THE WOODS. 
 
 THIS name seems to have been given to 
 various animals, agreeing in one common 
 character of walking upright, but coming from 
 different countries, and of very different pro- 
 portions and powers. The TROGLODYTE of 
 Bontius, the DRILL of Purchas, and the PIGMY 
 of Tyson, have all received this general name ; 
 and have been ranked, by some naturalists, 
 under one general description. If we read 
 the accounts of many remote travellers, under 
 this name we are presented with a formidable 
 animal, from six to eight feet high ; if we examine 
 the books of such as have described it nearer 
 home, we find it a pigmy not above three. In 
 this diversity we must be content to blend 
 their various descriptions into one general ac- 
 count ; observing, at the same time, that we 
 have no reason to doubt any of their relations, 
 although we are puzzled which to follow. 
 
 The Ouran Outang, which of all other ani- 
 mals most nearly approaches to the human 
 race, is seen of different sizes, from three to 
 seven feet high. In general, however, its 
 stature is less than that of a man ; but its 
 strength and agility much greater. Travellers, 
 who have seen various kinds of these animals 
 in their native solitudes, give us surprising re- 
 lations of their force, their swiftness, their ad- 
 dress, and their ferocity. Naturalists, who 
 have observed their form and manners at 
 home, have been as much struck with their 
 patient, pliant, imitative dispositions ; with 
 thf'ir appearance and conformation, so nearly 
 human. Of the smallest sort of these animals 
 
 we have had several, at different times, brought 
 into this country, all nearly alike ; but that 
 observed by Dr. Tyson, is the best known, 
 having been described with the greatest exact- 
 ness. 
 
 The animal which was described by that 
 learned physician, was brought from Angola 
 in Africa, where it had been taken in the in- 
 ternal parts of the country, in company with a 
 female of the same kind, that died by the w ay. 
 The body was covered with hair, which was 
 of a coal-black colour, more resembling human 
 hair than that of brutes. It bore a still stronger 
 similitude in its different lengths ; for in those 
 places where it is longest on the human species, 
 it was also longest in this ; as on the head, the 
 upper lip, the chin, and the pubes. The face 
 was like that of a man, the forehead larger, 
 and the head round. The upper and lower 
 jaw were not so prominent as in monkeys ; 
 but flat, like those of a man. The ears were 
 like those of a man, in most respects ; and the 
 teeth had more resemblance to the human than 
 those of any other creature. The bending of 
 the arms and legs were just the same as in a 
 man ; and, in short, the animal, at first view, 
 presented a figure entirely human. 
 
 In order to discover its differences, it was 
 necessary to take a closer survey ; and then 
 the imperfections of its form began to appear. 
 The first obvious difference was in the flatness 
 of the nose ; the next in the lowness of the 
 forehead, and the wanting the prominence of 
 the chin. The ears were proportion ably too 
 large ; the eyes too close to each other ; and 
 the interval between the nose and mouth too 
 great. The body and limbs differed, in the 
 thighs being too short, and the arms too long ; 
 in the thumb being too little, and the palm of 
 the hand too narrow. The feet also were 
 rather more like hands than feet ; and the ani- 
 mal, if we may judge from the figure, bent too 
 much upon its haunches. 
 
 When this creature was examined anatomi- 
 cally, a surprising similitude was seen to pre- 
 vail in its internal conformation. It differed 
 from man in the number of its ribs, having 
 thirteen ; whereas, in man, there are but 
 twelve. The vertebrae of the neck also were 
 shorter, the bones of the pelvis narrower, the 
 orbits of the eyes were deeper, the kidneys 
 were rounder, the urinary and gall bladders 
 were longer and smaller, and the ureters of a 
 
400 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 different figure. Such were the principal dis- 
 tinctions between the internal parts of this 
 animal and those of man ; in ahnost every 
 thing else they were entirely and exactly the 
 same, and discovered an astonishing congrui- 
 ty. Indeed, many parts were so much alike 
 in conformation, that it might have excited 
 wonder how they were productive of such 
 few advantages. The tongue, and all the 
 organs of the voice, were the same, and yet. 
 the animal was dumb; the brain was formed 
 in the same manner with that of man, and 
 yet the creature wanted reason: an evident 
 proof (as Mr. Buffbn finely observes) that 
 no dispositions of matter will give mind; and 
 that the body, how nicely soever formed, is 
 formed in vain, when there is not infused a 
 soul to direct its operations. 
 
 Having thus taken a comparative view of 
 this creature with man, what follows may be 
 necessary to complete the general description. 
 This animal was very hairy all behind, from 
 the head downwards; and the hair so tbirk, 
 that it covered the skin almost from being 
 seen: but in all parts before, the hair was 
 much thinner, the skin every where appear- 
 ed, and in some places it was almost bare. 
 When it went on all-fours, as it was some- 
 times seen to do, it appeared all hairy; when 
 it went erect, it appeared before less hairy, 
 and more like a man. Its hair, which in this 
 particular animal was black, much more re- 
 sembled that of men than the fur of brutes : 
 for, in the latter, besides their long hair, there 
 is usually a finer and a shorter intermixed ; 
 but in the ouran outang it was all of a kind ; 
 only about the pubes the hair was grayish, 
 seemed longer, and somewhat different; as 
 also on the upper lip and chin, where it was 
 grayish, like the hair of a beard. The face, 
 hands, and soles of the feet, were without 
 hair; and so was most part of the forehead : 
 but down the sides of the face the hair .was 
 thick, it being there about an inch and a half 
 long, which exceeded that on any other part 
 of the body. In the palms of its hands were 
 remarkable those lines which are usually 
 taken notice of in palmistry; and, at the tips 
 of the fingers, (hose spiral lines observed in 
 man. The palms of the hands were as long 
 as the soles of the feet; and the toes upon 
 these were as long as the fingers ; the middle 
 
 toe was the longest of all, and the whole foot 
 differed from the human. The hinder feet 
 being thus formed as hands, the animal often 
 used them as such ; and, on the contrary, now 
 and then made use of its hands instead of 
 feet. The breasts appeared small and shri- 
 velled, but exactly like those of a man : the 
 navel also appeared very fair, and in exact 
 dispositions, being neither harder nor more 
 prominent than what is usually seen in chil- 
 dren. Such is the description of this extra- 
 ordinary creature; to which little has been 
 added by succeeding observers, except that 
 the colour of the hair is often found to vary : 
 in that described by Edwards it was of a 
 reddish brown. 
 
 From a picture so like that of the human 
 species, we are naturally led to expect a cor- 
 responding mind ; and it is certain, that such 
 of these animals as have been shown in Eu- 
 rope, have discovered a degree of imitation 
 beyond what any quadruped can arrive at. 
 
 That of Tyson was a gentle, fond, harm- 
 less creature. In its passage to England, 
 those that it knew on ship-board, it would 
 embrace with the greatest tenderness, open- 
 ing their bosoms, and clasping its hands about 
 them. Monkeys of a lower species it held in 
 utter aversion ; it would always avoid the 
 place where they were kept in the same ves- 
 sel; and seemed to consider itself as a crea- 
 ture of higher extraction. After it was taken, 
 and a little used to wear clothes, it grew very 
 fond of them; a part it would put on without 
 any help, and the rest it would carry in its 
 hands to some of the company, for their as- 
 sistance. It would lie in a bed, place its 
 head on the pillow, and pull the clothes up- 
 wards, as a man would do. 
 
 That which -was seen by Edwards, and de- 
 scribed by Buffbn, showed even a superior 
 degree of sagacity. It walked, like all of 
 its kind, upon two legs, even though it car- 
 ried burdens. Its air was melancholy, and 
 its deportment grave. Unlike the baboon or 
 monkey, whose motions are violent and ap- 
 petites capricious, who are fond of mischief, 
 and obedient only from fear, this animal was 
 slow in its motions, and a look was sufficient 
 to keep it in awe. I have seen it, says Mr. 
 Buffon, give its hand to show the company to 
 the door: I have seen it sit at table, unfold 
 
THE MONKEY KIND. 
 
 401 
 
 its napkin, wipe its lips, make use of the spoon 
 and the fork to carry the victuals to its mouth, 
 pour out its drink into a glass, touch glasses 
 when invited, take a cup and saucer and lay 
 them on the table, put in sugar, pour out its 
 tea, leave it to cool before drinking, and all 
 this without any other instigation than the 
 signs or the command of its master, and often 
 of its own accord. It was gentle and inoffen- 
 sive ; it even approached strangers with re- 
 spect, and came rather to receive caresses 
 than to offer injuries. It was particularly fond 
 of sugared comfits, which every body was 
 ready to give it ; and, as it had a defluxion 
 upon the breast, so much sugar contributed to 
 increase the disorder, and shorten its life. It 
 continued at Paris but one summer, and died 
 in London. It ate indiscriminately of all 
 things, but it preferred dry and ripe fruits to 
 all other aliments. It would drink wine, but 
 in small quantities, and gladly left it for milk, 
 tea, or any other sweet liquor. 
 
 Such these animals appeared when brought 
 into Europe. However, many of their ex- 
 traordinary habits were probably the result of 
 education, and we are not told how long the in- 
 structions they received for this purpose were 
 continued. But we learn from another ac- 
 count, that they take but a very short time to 
 come to a great degree of imitative perfection. 
 Mr. L. Brosse bought two young ones, that 
 were but a year old, from a negro ; and these 
 at that early age discovered an astonishing 
 power of imitation. 8 They even then sat at 
 the table like men, ate of every thing without 
 distinction, made use of their knife, spoon, and 
 fork, both to eat their meat and help them- 
 selves. They drank wine and other liquors. 
 When carried on ship-board they had signs for 
 the cabin boys expressive of their wants ; and 
 whenever these neglected attending upon them 
 as they desired, they instantly flew into a 
 passion, seized them by the arm, bit them, and 
 kept them down. The male was sea-sick, and 
 required attendance like a human creature ; 
 he was even twice bled in the arm, and every 
 time afterwards, when he found himself out of 
 order, he showed his arm, as desirous of being 
 relieved by bleeding. 
 
 Pyrard relates, that in the province of Sierra 
 Leona, in Africa, there are a kind of apes, 
 
 As quoted by Buflbn, vol. xxviii. p. T7- 
 
 called Baris, which are strong and muscular, 
 and which, if properly instructed when young, 
 serve as very useful domestics. They usually 
 walk upright; they pound at a mortar; they 
 go to the river to fetch water, thfis they carry 
 back in a little pitcher on their heads ; but if 
 care be not taken to receive the pitcher at their 
 return, they let it fall to the ground, and then, 
 seeing it broken, they begin to lament and cry 
 for their loss. Le Compte's account is much 
 to the same purpose of an ape, which he saw 
 in the Straits of Molucca. " It walked upon 
 its two hind feet, which it bent a little, like a 
 dog that had been taught to dance. It made 
 use of its hands and arms as we do. Its visage 
 was not much more disagreeable than that of 
 a Hottentot ; but the body was all over cover- 
 ed with a woolly hair of different colours. As 
 to the rest, it cried like a child ; all its outward 
 actions \\ere so like the human, and the pas- 
 sions so lively and significant, that dumb men 
 could scarcely better express their conceptions 
 and desires. It had also that expression of 
 passion or joy which we often see in children, 
 stamping with its feet, and striking them 
 against the ground, to show its spite, or when 
 refused any thing it passionately longed for. 
 Although these animals (continues he) are 
 very big, for that I saw was four feet high, 
 their nimbleness is incredible. It is a pleasure 
 beyond expression to see them run up the 
 tackling of a ship, where they sometimes play 
 as if they had a knack of vaulting peculiar to 
 themselves, or as if they had been paid, like 
 our rope-dancers, to divert the company. 
 Sometimes, suspended by one arm, they poise 
 themselves, and then turn all of a sudden 
 round about a rope, with as much quickness 
 as a wheel, or a sling put into motion. Some- 
 times holding the rope successively with their 
 long fingers, and, letting their whole body fall 
 into the air, they run full speed from one end 
 to the other, and come back again with the 
 same swiftness. There is no posture but they 
 imitate, nor motion but they perform, bending 
 themselves like a bow, rolling like a bowl, 
 hanging by the hands, feet, and teeth, accord- 
 ing to the different fancies with which their 
 capricious imagination supplies them. But 
 what is still more amazing than all, is their 
 agility to fling themselves from one rope to 
 another, though at thirty, forty, and fifty feet 
 distance." 
 
402 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 Such are the habitudes and the powers of 
 the smaller class of these extraordinary crea- 
 tures ; but we are presented with a very 
 different picture in those of a larger stature 
 and more muscular form. The little animals 
 we have been describing, which are seldom 
 found above four feet high, seem to partake of 
 the nature of dwarfs among the human species, 
 being gentle, assiduous, and playful, rather fit- 
 ted to amuse than terrify. But the gigantic races 
 of the ouran outang, seen and described by 
 travellers, are truly formidable ; and in the 
 gloomy forests, where they are only found, 
 seem to hold undisputed dominion. Many of 
 these are as tall or taller than a man ; active, 
 strong, and intrepid ; cunning, lascivious, and 
 cruel. This redoubtable rival of mankind is 
 found in many parts of Africa, in the East 
 Indies, in Madagascar, and in Borneo. 3 In 
 the last of these places, the people of quality 
 course him as we do the stag ; and this sort of 
 hunting is one of the favourite amusements of 
 the king himself. This creature is extremely 
 swift of foot, endowed with extraordinary 
 strength, and runs with prodigious celerity. 
 His skin is all hairy, his eyes sunk in his head, 
 his countenance stern, his face tanned, and 
 all his lineaments, though exactly human, 
 harsh and blackened by the sun. In Africa 
 this creature is even still more formidable. 
 Battel calls him the pongo, and assures us that 
 in all his proportions he resembles a man, ex- 
 cept that he is much larger, even to a gigantic, 
 state. His face resembles that of a man, the 
 eyes deep sunk in the head, the hair on each 
 side extremely long, the visage naked and 
 without hair, as also the ears and the hands. 
 The body is lightly covered, and scarcely dif- 
 ferring from that of a man, except that there 
 are no calves to the legs. Still, however, the 
 animal is seen to walk upon his hinder legs, 
 and in an erect posture. He sleeps under 
 trees, and builds himself a hut, which serves 
 to protect him against the sun and the rains of 
 the tropical climates, of which he is a native. 
 He lives only upon fruits, and is no way car- 
 nivorous. He cannot speak, although fur- 
 nished with greater instinct than any other 
 animal of the brute creation. When the negroes 
 make a fire in the woods, this animal comes 
 near and warms himself by the blaze. Ho\v- 
 
 Le Compte's History of China. 
 
 ever, he has not skill enough to keep the flame 
 alive by feeding it with fuel. They go to- 
 gether in companies, and if they happen to 
 meet one of the human species remote from 
 succour, they show him no mercy. They even 
 attack the elephant, which they beat with their 
 clubs, and oblige to leave that part of the fo- 
 rest which they claim as their own. It is im- 
 possible to take any of these dreadful creatures 
 alive, for they are so strong that ten men 
 would not be a match for but one of them. 
 None of this kind, therefore, are taken except 
 when very young, and these but rarely, when 
 the female happens to leave them behind ; for 
 in general they keep clung to the breast, and 
 adhere both with legs and arms. From the 
 same traveller we learn, that when one of 
 these animals dies, the rest cover the body 
 with a quantity of leaves and branches. They 
 sometimes also show mercy to the human 
 kind. A negro boy, that was taken by one 
 of these, and carried into the woods, continu- 
 ed there a whole year, without receiving any 
 injury. 1 " From another traveller we learn, 
 that these animals often attempt to surprise the 
 female negroes as they go into the woods, and 
 frequently keep them against their wills for 
 the pleasure of their company, feeding them 
 very plentifully all the time. He assures us, 
 that he knew a woman of Loango that had 
 lived among these animals for three years. 
 They grow from six to seven feet high, and 
 are of unequalled strength. They build sheds, 
 and make use of clubs for their defence. 
 Their faces are broad, their noses flat, their 
 ears without a tip, their skins are more bright 
 than that of a mulatto, and they are covered 
 on many parts of (he body with long and taw- 
 ny coloured hair. Their belly is large, their 
 heels flat, and yet rising behind. They some- 
 times walk upright, and sometimes upon all- 
 fours, when they are fantastically disposed. 
 
 From this description of the ouran outang, 
 we perceive at what a distance the first ani- 
 mal of the brute creation is placed from the 
 very lowest of the human species. Even in 
 countries peopled with savages, this creature 
 is considered as a beast ; and in those very 
 places where we might suppose the smallest 
 difference between them and mankind, the in- 
 habitants hold it in the greatest contempt and 
 
 b Le Brosse, as quoted by Buffon, vol. xxviii. p. 70. 
 
THE MONKEY KIND. 
 
 403 
 
 detestation. In Borneo, where this animal 
 has been said to come to its greatest perfec- 
 tion, the natives hunt it in the same manner 
 as they pursue the elephant or the lion, while 
 its resemblance to the human form procures it 
 neither pity nor protection. The gradations 
 of nature in the other parts of nature are minute 
 and insensible ; in the passage from quadru- 
 peds to fishes we can scarcely tell where the 
 quadruped ends and the fish begins ; in the 
 descent from beasts to insects we can hardly 
 distinguish the steps of the progression ; but 
 ,in the ascent from brutes to man, the line is 
 strongly drawn, well marked, and unpassable. 
 It is in vain that the ouran outang resembles 
 man in form, or imitates many of his actions ; 
 he still continues a wretched, helpless creature, 
 pent up in the most gloomy part of the forest, 
 and, with regard to the provision for his own 
 happiness, inferior even to the elephant or the 
 beaver in sagacity. To us, indeed, this ani- 
 mal seems much wiser than it really is. As 
 we have long been used to measure the sagacity 
 of all actions by their similitude to our own, 
 and not their fitness to the animal's way of 
 living, we are pleased with the imitations of 
 the ape, even though we know they are far 
 from contributing to the convenience of its 
 situation. An ape, or a quadruped, when 
 under the trammels of human education, may 
 be an admirable object for human curiosity, 
 but is very little advanced by all its learning 
 in the road to its own felicity. On the con- 
 trary, I have never seen any of these long- 
 instructed animals that did not, by their melan- 
 choly air, appear sensible of the wretchedness 
 of their situation. Its marks of seeming saga- 
 city were merely relative to us, and not to the 
 animal; and all its boasted wisdom was merely 
 of our own making. 
 
 There is, in fact, another circumstance re- 
 lative to this animal, which ought not to be 
 concealed. I have many reasons to believe 
 that the most perfect of the kind are prone, 
 like the rest of the quadruped creation, and 
 only owe their erect attitude to human educa- 
 tion. Almost all the travellers who speak of 
 them, mention their going sometimes upon all- 
 fours, and sometimes erect. As their chief 
 residence is among trees, they are without 
 doubt usually seen erect while they are climb- 
 ing ; but it is more than probable that their 
 efforts to escape upon the ground are by run- 
 No. 35 & 36. 
 
 ning upon the hands and feet together. Schou- 
 ten, who mentions their education, tells us that 
 they are taken in traps, and taught in the 
 beginning to walk upon their hind legs ; which 
 certainly implies that in a state of nature they 
 run upon all-fours. Add to this, that, when 
 we examine the palms of their hands and the 
 soles of their feet, we find both equally callous 
 and beaten ; a certain proof that both have 
 been equally used. In those hot countries, 
 where the apes are known to reside, the soles 
 of the negroes' feet, who go barefoot, arc 
 covered with a skin above an inch thick ; 
 while their hands are as soft as those of an 
 European. Did the apes walk in the same 
 I manner, the same exercise would have furnish- 
 ed them with similar advantages, which is not 
 the case. Besides all this, I have been assur- 
 ed by a very credible traveller, that these ani- 
 mals naturally run in the woods upon all-fours; 
 and when they are taken, their hands are tied 
 behind them, to teach them to walk upright. 
 This attitude they learn after some time ; and, 
 thus instructed, they are sent into Europe to 
 astonish the speculative with their near ap- 
 proaches to humanity, while it is never con- 
 sidered how much is natural, and how much 
 has been acquired in the savage schools of 
 Benin and Angola. 
 
 The animal next to these, and to be placed 
 in the same class, is the APE, properly so call- 
 ed, or the PITHEKOS of the ancients. This is 
 much less than the former, being not above a 
 foot and a half high, but walks erect, is with- 
 out a tail, and is easily tamed. 
 
 Of this kind also is the GIBBON, so called by 
 Buffon, or the LONG-ARMED APE, which is a 
 very extraordinary and remarkable creature. 
 It is of different sizes, being from fout feet to 
 two feet high. It walks erect, is without a 
 tail, has a face resembling that of a man, with 
 a circle of bushy hair all round the visage ; 
 its eyes are large, and sunk in its head ; its 
 face tanned, and its ears exactly proportioned. 
 But that in which it chiefly differs from all 
 others of the monkey tribe, is the extraordi- 
 nary length of its arms, which when the ani- 
 mal stands erect are long enough to reach the 
 ground; so that it can walk upon all-fours, 
 and yet keep its erect posture at the same 
 time. This animal, next to the ouran outang 
 and the ape, most nearly resembles mankind, 
 not only in form, but in gentle manners and 
 
 3P 
 
404 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 tractable disposition. It is a native of the 
 East Indies, and particularly found along the 
 coasts of Coromandel. 
 
 The last of the ape kind is the CYNOCEPHA- 
 LUS, or the MAGOT of Buffon. This animal 
 wants a tail, like the former, although there 
 is a small protuberance at that part, which 
 yet is rather formed by the skin than the bone. 
 It differs also in having a large callous red 
 rump. The face is prominent, and approaches 
 more to that of quadrupeds than of man. The 
 body is covered with a brownish hair, and 
 yellow on the belly. It is about three feet 
 and a half, or four feet high, and is a native 
 of most parts of Africa and the East. As it 
 recedes from man in its form, so also it ap- 
 pears different in its dispositions, being sul- 
 len, vicious, and untractable." 
 
 THE BABOON. 
 
 DESCENDING from the more perfect of the 
 monkey kinds, we come to the Baboon and 
 its varieties, a large, fierce, and formidable 
 race, that, mixing the figure of the man and 
 the quadruped in their conformation, seem 
 to possess only the defects of both ; the pe- 
 tulance of the one, and the ferocity of the 
 other. These animals have a short tail ; a 
 prominent face; with canine teeth, larger 
 than thoseofmen; and callosities on the rump. 1 " 
 In man the physiognomy may deceive, and 
 the figure of the body does not always lead to 
 the qualities of the mind ; but in animals we 
 may always judge of their dispositions by 
 their looks, and form a just conjecture of 
 their internal habits from their external form. 
 If we compare the nature of the ape and the 
 baboon by this easy rule, we shall at once be 
 led to pronounce that they greatly differ in 
 their dispositions, and that the latter are in- 
 finitely more fierce, savage, and malicious, 
 than the former. The ouran outang, that so 
 nearly resembles man in its figure, approaches 
 also nearest in the gentleness of its manners 
 and the pliancy of its temper. The cyno- 
 
 a Omnes femellae hujusce et precedentium, ut et fere 
 sequentium specierum, menstrual! patiunter fluxu sicut in 
 ferninis. 
 
 b Buffon, vol. xxxviii. p. 1 83. 
 
 cephalus, that of all other apes is most unlike 
 man in form, and approaches nearer the dog 
 in face, resembles also the brute in nature, 
 being wild, restless, and impelled by a fretful 
 impetuosity. But the baboon, who is still 
 more remote, and resembles man only in ha- 
 ving hands, who, from having a tail, a promi- 
 nent face, and sharp claws, approaches more 
 nearly to the savage tribe, is every way fierce, 
 malicious, ignorant, and untractable. 
 
 The BABOON, properly so called, is from 
 three to four feet high, very strong built, with 
 a thick body and limbs, and canine teeth, 
 much longer than those of men. It has large 
 callosities behind, which are quite naked and 
 red. Its tail is crooked and thick, and about 
 seven or eight inches long. Its snout, for it 
 can hardly be called a face, is long and thick, 
 and on each side of its cheeks it has a pouch, 
 into which, when satiated with eating, it puts 
 the remainder of its provisions. It is cover- 
 ed with long thick hair, of a reddish brown 
 colour, and pretty uniform over the whole 
 body. It walks more commonly upon all- 
 fours than upright, and its hands as well as 
 its feet are armed with long sharp claws, in- 
 stead of the broad round nails of the ape kind. 
 
 An animal thus made for strength, and fur- 
 nished with dangerous weapons, is found, in 
 fact, to be one of the most formidable of the 
 savage race in those countries where it is 
 bred. It appears, in its native woods, to be 
 impelled by two opposite passions ; a hatred 
 for the males of the human species, and a de- 
 sire for women. Were we assured of these 
 strange oppositions in its dispositions from 
 one testimony alone, the account might ap- 
 pear doubtful ; but, as it comes from a va- 
 riety of the most credible witnesses, we can- 
 not refuse our assent. From them, therefore, 
 we learn, that these animals will often assail 
 women in a body, and force them into the 
 woods, where they keep them against their 
 will, and kill them when refractory. From 
 the Chevalier Forbin we learn, that in Siam 
 whole troops of these will often sally forth 
 from their forests, and attack a village, w hen 
 they know the men are engaged in their rice 
 harvest. They are on such occasions actu- 
 ated as well by desire as by hunger; and not 
 only plunder the houses of whatever provi- 
 sions they can find, but endeavour to force 
 
THE MONKEY KIND. 
 
 405 
 
 the women. These, however, as the Cheva- 
 lier humorously relates, not at all liking either 
 the manners or the figure of the paltry gal- 
 lants, boldly stand on their defence, and with 
 clubs, or whatever other arms they can pro- 
 vide, instead of answering their caresses, 
 oblige their ugly suitors to retreat ; not, how- 
 ever, before they have damaged or plunder- 
 ed every thing eatable they can lay their 
 hands on. 
 
 At the Cape of Good Hope, they are less 
 formidable, but, to the best of their power, 
 equally mischievous. They are there under 
 a sort of natural discipline, and go about 
 whatever they undertake with surprising skill 
 and regularity. When they set about robbing 
 an orchard or a vineyard, for they are extreme- 
 ly fond of grapes, apples, and ripe fruit, they 
 do not go singly to work, but in large com- 
 panies, and with preconcerted deliberation. 
 On these occasions, a part of them enter the 
 enclosure, while one is set to watch. The 
 rest stand without the fence, and form a line 
 reaching all the way from their fellows with- 
 in, to their rendezvous without, which is ge- 
 nerally in some craggy mountain. Every 
 thing being thus disposed, the plunderers 
 within the orchard throw the fruit to those 
 that are without as fast as they can gather it; 
 or, if the wall or hedge be high, to those that 
 sit on the top; and these hand the plunder 
 to those next them on the other side. Thus 
 the fruit is pitched from one to another all 
 along the line, till it is safely deposited at 
 their head-quarters. They catch it as readi- 
 ly as the most skilful tennis-player can a 
 ball ; and while the business is going forward, 
 which they conduct with great expedition, a 
 most profound silence is observed among 
 them. Their sentinel, during this whole time, 
 continues upon the watch, extremely anxious 
 and attentive; but, if he perceives any one 
 coming, he instantly sets up a loud cry, and 
 at this signal the whole company scamper 
 off! Nor yet are they at any time willing to 
 leave the place empty-handed ; for if they be 
 plundering a bed of melons, for instance, they 
 go off with one in their mouths, one in their 
 hands, and one under their arm. If the pur- 
 suit be hot, they drop first that from under 
 their arm, then that from their hand ; and, if 
 it be continued, they at last let fall that 
 
 which they had hitherto kept in their mouths. 
 The natives of the Cape often take the 
 young of these animals, and, feeding them 
 with sheep and goat's milk, accustom them 
 to guard their houses ; which duty they per- 
 form with great punctuality. Those, how- 
 ever, that have been brought into Europe, 
 are headstrong, rude, and untractable. Dogs 
 and cats, when they have done any thing 
 wrong, will run off; but these seem careless 
 and insensible of the mischief they do; and I 
 have seen one of them break a whole table 
 of china, as it should seem by design, with- 
 out appearing in the least conscious of having 
 done amiss. It was not, however, in any re- 
 spect so formidable as that described by Mr. 
 Buffon, of which he gives the following de- 
 scription: " It was not," says he, " extreme- 
 ly ugly, and yet it excited horror. It conti- 
 nually appeared in a state of savage ferocity, 
 gnashing its teeth, flying at the spectators, 
 and furiously restless. It was obliged to be 
 confined in an iron cage, the bars of which 
 it so forcibly attempted to break, that the 
 spectators were struck with apprehension. 
 It was a sturdy bold animal, whose short limbs 
 and powerful exertions showed vast strength 
 and agility. The long hair with which it 
 was covered seemed to add to its apparent 
 abilities ; which, however, were in reality so 
 great, that it could easily overcome a single 
 man, unless armed. As to the rest, it for ever 
 appeared excited by that passion which ren- 
 ders the mildest animals at intervals furious. 
 Its lasciviousness was constant, and its satis- 
 factions particular. Some others also of the 
 monkey kind showed the same degree of im- 
 pudence, and particularly in the presence of 
 women ; but, as they were less in size, their 
 petulance was less obvious, and their inso- 
 lence more easily corrected." 
 
 But however violent the desires of these 
 animals may be, they are not found to breed 
 in our climate. The female brings forth usu- 
 ally but one at a time, which she carries in 
 her arms, and in a peculiar manner clinging 
 to her breast. As to the rest, these animals 
 are not at all carnivorous ; they principally 
 feed upon fruits, roots, and corn, and gene- 
 rally keep together in companies. The in- 
 ternal parts are more unlike those of man 
 than of quadrupeds, particularly the liver, 
 
406 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 which is, like that of a dog, divided into six 
 lobes. The lungs are more divided, the guts 
 in general are shorter, and the kidneys round- 
 er and flatter. 
 
 The largest of the baboon kind is the 
 MANDRIL; an ugly, disgusting animal, with a 
 tail shorter than the former, though of a much 
 larger stature, being from four to five feet 
 high. The muzzle is still longer than that of 
 the preceding, it is of a bluish colour, and 
 strongly marked with wrinkles, which give it 
 a frightful appearance. But what renders it 
 truly loathsome is, that from the nose there 
 is always seen issuing a snot, which the ani- 
 mal takes care at intervals to lick off with its 
 tongue, and swallow. It is a native of the 
 Gold Coast ; it is said to walk more frequent- 
 ly erect than upon all-fours; and, when dis- 
 pleased, to weep like a child. There was 
 one of them shown in England some years 
 ago. It seemed tame, but stupid, and had a 
 method of opening its mouth and blowing at 
 such as came too near. 
 
 The WANDEROW is a baboon rather less 
 than the former, with the body less compact 
 and muscular, and the hinder parts seemingly 
 more feeble. The tail is from seven to eight 
 inches long; the muzzle is prominent, as in 
 the rest of this kind ; but what particularly 
 distinguishes it, is a large long white head of 
 hair, together with a monstrous white beard, 
 coarse, rough, and descending; the colour of 
 the rest of the body being brown or black. 
 As to the rest, in its savage state, it is equally 
 fierce with the others; but, with a proper 
 education, it seems more tractable than most 
 of its kind, and is chiefly seen in the woods 
 of Ceylon and Malabar. 
 
 The MAIMON of Buffbn, which Edwards calls 
 the PIG-TAIL, is the last of the baboons, and in 
 size rather approaches the monkey, being no 
 larger than a cat. Its chief distinction, be- 
 sides its prominent muzzle, like a baboon, is 
 in the tail, which is about five or six inches 
 long, and curled up like that of a hog; from 
 which circumstance, peculiar to this animal, 
 our English naturalist gave it the name. It 
 is a native of Sumatra, and does not well en- 
 dure the rigours of our climate. Edwards, 
 however, kept one of them a year in London; 
 and another of them happening at the same 
 time to be exposed in a show of beasts, he 
 
 brought the two exiles together, to se if they 
 would claim or acknowledge their kindred. 
 The moment ihey came into each other's 
 presence, they testified their mutual satisfac- 
 tion, and seemed quite transported at the in- 
 terview. 
 
 THE MONKEY. 
 
 THE varieties in the larger tribes of the 
 monkey kind are but few ; in the ape we have 
 seen but four, and in the baboon about as 
 many. But when we come to the smaller 
 class, the differences among them seem too 
 tedious for enumeration. These, as was ob- 
 served in the beginning, are all small in sta- 
 ture, and with long tails, by which they are 
 distinguished from the preceding, that entirely 
 want the tail, or are large, and have but a 
 short one. The varieties in the form and 
 colour of dogs, or squirrels, is nothing to what 
 are found among monkeys of the smaller kind. 
 Bosnian mentions above fifty sorts on the 
 Gold Coast alone, and Smith confirms the 
 account. Condamine asserts that it would 
 take up a volume to describe the differences 
 of these to be found along the river Amazon ; 
 and \\e are sure that every one of these is 
 very different from those on the African coast. 
 Naturalists, however, have undertaken to 
 make a catalogue of their numbers; and they 
 either transmit their descriptions from one to 
 another, or only enumerate those few that 
 have found their way to Europe, and have 
 fallen within the narrow circle of their own 
 observation. But, though it may be proper 
 enough to describe such as fall under notice, 
 it is certainly wrong to offer a scanty cata- 
 logue as complete, and to induce the reader 
 to suppose he sees a picture of the whole 
 group of these animals, when he is only pre- 
 sented with a small part of the number. 
 Such, therefore, as are fond of the reputation 
 of adding new descriptions to the stock of 
 natural history, have here a wide, though 
 surely a barren, field to enlarge in ; and they 
 will find it no difficult matter, by observing 
 the various animals of this kind that are from 
 time to time brought fromtheir native coaststo 
 this country, to indulge in description, and to 
 ring the changes upon all the technical terms 
 
THE MONKEY KIND. 
 
 407 
 
 with which this most pleasing science is ob- 
 scured and rendered disgusting. For my own 
 part, I will spare the reader and myself the 
 trouble of entering into an elaborate descrip- 
 tion ofeach; content with observing once more, 
 that their numbers are very great, and their 
 differences very trifling. There is scarcely 
 a country in the tropical climates that does 
 not swarm with them, and scarcely a forest 
 that is not inhabited by a race of monkeys 
 distinct from all others. Every different 
 wood along the coasts of Africa may be con- 
 sidered as a separate colony of monkeys, dif- 
 fering from those of the next district in colour, 
 in size, and malicious mischief. It is indeed 
 remarkable, that the monkeys of two cantons 
 are never found to mix with each other, but 
 rigorously to observe a separation : each fo- 
 rest produces only its own ; and these guard 
 their limits from the intrusion of all strangers 
 of a different race from themselves. In this 
 they somewhat resemble the human inhabi- 
 tants of the savage nations among whom they 
 are found, where the petty kingdoms are 
 numerous,and their manners opposite. There, 
 in the extent of a few miles, the traveller is 
 presented with men speaking different lan- 
 guages, professing different religions, govern- 
 ed by different laws, and only resembling 
 each other in their mutual animosity. 
 
 In general, monkeys of all kinds, being less 
 than the baboon, are endued with less powers 
 of doing mischief. Indeed, the ferocity of 
 their nature seems to diminish with their 
 size ; and when taken wild in the woods, 
 they are sooner tamed, and more easily 
 taught to imitate man, than the former. More 
 gentle than the baboon, and less grave and 
 sullen than the ape, they soon begin to exert 
 all their sportive mimicries, and are easily 
 restrai ned by correction. But it must be con- 
 fessed, that they will do nothing they are de- 
 sired without beating; for, if their fears be 
 entirely removed, they are the most insolent 
 and headstrong animals in nature. 
 
 In their native woods they are not less the 
 pests of man than of other animals. The 
 monkeys, says a traveller," are in possession 
 of every forest where they reside, and may be 
 considered as the masters of the place. 
 
 a Description Historique de Macacar, p. 51. 
 
 Neither the tiger, nor the lion itself, will ven- 
 ture to dispute the dominion, since these, 
 from the tops of trees, continually carry on 
 offensive war, and by their agility escape all 
 possibility of pursuit. Nor have the birds 
 less to fear from their continual depredations; 
 for, as these harmless inhabitants of the wood 
 usually build upon trees, the monkeys are for 
 ever on the watch to find out and rob their 
 nests; and such is their petulant delight in 
 mischief, that they will fling their eggs against 
 the ground, when they want appetite or in- 
 clination to devour them. 
 
 There is but one animal in all the forest 
 that ventures to oppose the monkey, and that 
 is the serpent. The larger snakes are often 
 seen winding up the trees where the monkeys 
 reside; and, when they happen to surprise 
 them sleeping, swallow them whole, before 
 the little animals have time to make a de- 
 fence. In this manner, the two most mischiev- 
 ous kinds in all nature keep the whole forest 
 between them ; both equally formidable to 
 each other, and for ever employed in mutual 
 hostilities. The monkeys, in general, inhabit 
 the tops of the trees, and the serpents cling 
 to the branches nearer the bottom, and in 
 this manner they are for ever seen near each 
 other, like enemies in the same field of battle. 
 Some travellers, indeed, have supposed that 
 their vicinity rather argued their mutual 
 friendship, and that they united in this man- 
 ner to form an offensive league against all the 
 rest of animated nature. b " I have seen these 
 monkeys," says Labat, " playing their gam- 
 bols upon those very branches on which the 
 snakes were reposing, and jumping over them 
 without receiving any injury, although the 
 serpents of that country were naturally vin- 
 dictive, and always ready to bite whatever 
 disturbed them." These gambols, however, 
 were probably nothing more than the insults 
 of an enemy that was conscious of its own 
 safety; and the monkeys might have provoked 
 the snake in the same manner as we often 
 see sparrows twitter at a cat. However 
 this be, the forest is generally divided be- 
 tween them; and these woods, which nature 
 seems to have embellished with her richest 
 magnificence, rather inspire terror than de- 
 
 b Labat, Relat. de 1'Afriq. Occident, p. 317. 
 
408 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 light, and chiefly serve as retreats for mischief 
 and malignity. 
 
 The enmity of these animals to mankind, 
 is partly ridiculous, and partly formidable. 
 They seem, says Le Comte and others, to 
 have a peculiar instinct in discovering their 
 foes, and are perfectly skilled, when attacked, 
 in mutually defending and assisting each 
 other. When a traveller enters among these 
 woods, they consider him as an invader 
 uporr their dominions, and all join to repel 
 the intrusion. At first they .survey him with 
 a kind of insolent curiosity. They jump from 
 branch to branch, pursue him as he goes 
 along, and make a loud chattering, to call 
 the rest of their companions together. They 
 then begin their hostilities, by grinning, 
 threatening, and flinging down the withered 
 branches at him, which they break from the 
 trees ; they even take their excrements in 
 their hands, and throw them at his head. 
 Thus they attend him wherever he goes; 
 jumping from tree to tree with such amazing 
 swiftness, that the eye can scarcely attend 
 their motions. Although they take the most 
 desperate leaps, yet they are seldom seen to 
 come to the ground, for they easily fasten 
 upon the branches that break their fall, and 
 stick, either by their hands, feet, or tail, 
 wherever they touch. If one of them happens 
 to be wounded, the rest assemble round, and 
 clap their fingers into the wound, as if they 
 were desirous of sounding its depth. If the 
 blood flows in any quantity, some of them 
 keep it shut up, while others get leaves, 
 which they chew, and thrust into the open- 
 ing : however extraordinary this may appear, 
 it is asserted to be often seen, and to be strict- 
 ly true. In this manner they wage a petulant, 
 unequal war; and are often killed in num- 
 bers before they think proper to make a re- 
 treat. This they effect with the same preci- 
 pitation with which they at first came together. 
 In this retreat the young are seen clinging to 
 the back of the female, with which she jumps 
 away ,seemingly unembarrassed by the burden. 
 
 The curiosity of the Europeans has, in 
 some measure, induced the natives of the 
 places where these animals reside, to catch or 
 take them alive by every art they are able. 
 The \is\i'\l way in such case, is to shoot the fe- 
 male as she carries her voun<r,and then both,of 
 
 course, tumble to the ground. But even this 
 is not easily performed; for if the animal be 
 not killed outright, it will not fall; but cling- 
 ing to some branch, continues, even when 
 dead, its former grasp, and remains on the 
 tree where it was shot, until it drops oflT by 
 putrefaction : in this manner it is totally lost 
 to the pursuer ; for to attempt climbing the 
 tree, to bring either it or the young one down, 
 would probably be fatal, from the number of 
 serpents that are hid among the branches. 
 For this reason the sportsman always takes 
 care to aim at the head ; which, if he hits, 
 the monkey falls directly to the ground ; and 
 the young one comes down at the same time, 
 clinging to its dead parent. 
 
 The Europeans along the coasts of Guinea 
 often go into the woods to shoot monkeys ; 
 and nothing pleases the negroes more than 
 to see these animals drop, against which they 
 have the greatest animosity. They consider 
 them, and not without reason, as the most 
 mischievous and tormenting creatures in the 
 world ; and are happy to see their numbers 
 destroyed, upon a double account ; as well 
 because they dread their devastations, as be- 
 cause they love their flesh. The monkey, 
 which is always skinned before it is eaten, 
 when served up at a negro feast, looks so 
 like a child, that an European is shocked at 
 the very sight. The natives, however, who 
 are not so nice, devour it as one of the highest 
 delicacies; and assiduously attend our sports- 
 men, to profit by the spoil. But what they 
 are chiefly astonished at, is to see our travel- 
 lers carefully taking the young ones alive, 
 while they leave them the old ones, that are 
 certainly the most fit to be eaten. They can- 
 not comprehend what advantage can arise to 
 us from educating or keeping a little animal, 
 that, by experience, they know to be equally 
 fraught with tricks and mischief: some of 
 them have even been led to suppose, that, 
 with a kind of perverse affection, we love 
 only creatures of the most mischievous kinds: 
 and having seen us often buy young and tame 
 monkeys, they have taken equal care to bring 
 rats to our factors, offering them for sale, and 
 greatly disappointed at finding no purchaser 
 for so hopeful a commodity." 
 
 Labat, Relat. de 1'Afriq. Occident, p. 317- 
 
THE MONKEY KIND. 
 
 409 
 
 The negroes consider these animals as 
 their greatest plague ; and, indeed, they do 
 incredible damage, when they come in com- 
 panies to lay waste a field of Indian corn or 
 rice, or a plantation of sugar-canes. They 
 carry off as much as they are able; and they 
 destroy ten times more than they bear away. 
 Their manner of plundering is pretty much 
 like that of the baboons, already mentioned, 
 in a garden. One of them stands sentinel 
 upon a tree, while the rest are plundering, 
 carefully and cautiously turning on every side, 
 but particularly to that on which there is the 
 greatest danger: in the mean lime, the rest 
 of the spoilers pursue their work with great 
 silence and assiduity ; they are not content- 
 ed with the first blade of corn, or the first 
 cane that they happen to lay their hands on; 
 they first pull up such as appear most alluring 
 to the eye ; they turn it round, examine, com- 
 pare it with others, and, if they find it to their 
 mind, stick it under one of their shoulders. 
 When in this manner they have got their load, 
 they begin to think of retreating : but if it 
 should happen that the owners of the field 
 appear to interrupt their depredations, their 
 faithful sentinel instantly gives notice, by cry- 
 ing out, IIoiip. hoitp, hmip! which the rest per- 
 fectly understand, and all at once throwing 
 down the corn they hold in their left hands, 
 scamper off upon three legs, carrying the re- 
 mainder in the right. If they are still hotly 
 pursued, they then are content to throw down 
 their whole burden, and to take refuge among 
 their woods, on the tops of which they remain 
 in perfect security. , 
 
 Were we to give faith to what some travel- 
 lers assure us, of the government, policies, 
 and subordination of these animals, we might 
 perhaps be taxed with credulity; but we 
 have no reason to doubt that they are under 
 a kind of discipline, which they exercise 
 among each other. They are generally seen 
 to keep together in companies, to march in 
 exact order, and to obey the voice of some 
 particular chieftain, remarkable for his size 
 and gravity. One species of these, which 
 Mr. BuflTon calls the OUARINE, and which are 
 remarkable for the loudness and the distinct- 
 ness of their voice, are still more so for the 
 use to which they convert it. " 1 have fre- 
 quently been a witness," says Margrave, "of 
 
 their assemblies and deliberations. Every 
 day, both morning and evening, the ouarines 
 assemble in the woods to receive instruction?. 
 When all come together, one among the num- 
 ber takes the highest place on a tree, and 
 makes a signal with his hand to the rest to 
 sit round, in order to hearken. As soon as 
 he sees them placed, he begins his discourse, 
 with so loud a voice, and yet in a manner so 
 precipitate, that, to hear him at a distance, 
 one would think the whole company were 
 crying out at the same time: however, du- 
 ring that time, one only is speaking; and all 
 the rest observe the most profound silence. 
 When this has done, he makes a sign with 
 the hand for the rest to reply ; and at that 
 instant they raise their voices together, until 
 by another signal of the hand they are en- 
 joined silence. This they as readily obey ; 
 till, at last, the whple assembly breaks up, 
 after hearing a repetition of the same preach- 
 ment." 
 
 The chief food of the monkey tribe is fruits, 
 the buds of trees, or succulent roots and 
 plants. They all, like man, seem fond of 
 sweets; and particularly the pleasant juice 
 of the palrn-tree and the sugar-cane. With 
 these the fertile regions in which they are 
 bred seldom fail to supply them ; but when 
 it happens that these fail, or that more nou- 
 rishing food becomes more agreeable, they 
 eat insects and worms ; and, sometimes, if 
 near the coasts, descend to the sea-shore, 
 where they eat oysters,,, crabs, and shell-fish. 
 Their manner of managing an oyster is ex- 
 traordinary enough; but it is too well attest- 
 ed to fail of our assent. As the oysters in 
 the tropical climates are generally larger 
 than with us, the monkeys, when they go to 
 the sea-side, pick up a stone, and clap it be- 
 tween the opening shells ; this prevents them 
 from closing; and the monkey then eats the 
 fish at his ease. They often also draw crabs 
 from the water, by putting their tail to the 
 hole where that animal takes refuge, arid the 
 crab fastening upon it. they withdraw it with 
 a jerk, and thus pull their prey upon shore. 
 This habit of laying traps for other animals, 
 makes them very cautious of being entrapped 
 themselves ; and I am assured, by many per- 
 sons of credit, that no snare, how nicely bait- 
 ed soever, will take the monkey of the West 
 
410 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 India islands; for having been accustomed 
 to the cunning of man, it opposes its natural 
 distrust to human artifice. 
 
 The monkey generally brings forth one at 
 a time, and sometimes two. They are rarely 
 found to breed when brought over into Eu- 
 rope; but of those that do, they exhibit a 
 very striking picture of parental affection. 
 The male and female are never tired of fond- 
 ling their young one. They instruct it with 
 no little assiduity; and often severely correct 
 it, if stubborn, or disinclined to profit by their 
 example: they hand it from one to the other; 
 and when the male has done showing his re- 
 gard, the female takes her turn. When wild 
 in the woods, the female, if she happens to 
 have two, carries one on her back, and the 
 other in her arms: that on her back clings 
 very closely, clasping its hands round her 
 neck, and its feet about her middle: when 
 she wants to suckle it, she then alters their 
 position ; and that which has been fed gives 
 place to the other, which she takes in her 
 arms. It often happens that she is unable to 
 leap from one tree to another, when thus 
 loaden; and upon such occasions their dex- 
 terity is very surprising. The whole family 
 form a kind of chain, locking tail in tail, or 
 hand in hand, and one of them holding the 
 branch above, the rest swing down, balancing 
 to and fro, like a pendulum, until the under- 
 most is enabled to catch hold of the lower 
 branches of some neighbouring tree. When 
 the hold is fixed below, the monkey lets go 
 that which was above, and thus conies under- 
 most in turn; but, creeping up along the 
 chain, attains the next branches, like the rest; 
 and thus they all take possession of the tree, 
 without ever coming to the ground. 
 
 When in a state of domestic tameness, 
 those animals are very amusing, and often 
 fill up a vacant hour, when other entertain- 
 ment is wanting. There are few that are not 
 acquainted with their various mimicries, and 
 their capricious feats of activity. But it is 
 generally in company with other animals of 
 a more simple disposition that their tricks 
 and superior instincts are shown ; they seem 
 to take a delight in tormenting them ; and I 
 have seen one of them amusing itself for hours 
 together, in imposing upon the gravity of a 
 cat. Erasmus tells us of a large monkey, 
 
 kept by Sir Thomas More, that, one day di- 
 verting itself in his garden, where some tame 
 rabbits were kept, played several of its usual 
 pranks among them, while the rabbits scarce- 
 ly well knew what to make of their new ac- 
 quaintance: in the mean time, a weasel, that 
 came for very different purposes than those 
 of entertainment, was seen peering about the 
 place in which the rabbits were fed, and en- 
 deavouring to make its way, by removing a 
 board that closed their hutch. While the 
 monkey saw no danger, it continued a calm 
 spectator of the enemy's efforts; but just 
 when, by long labour, the weasel had effect- 
 ed its purpose, and had removed the board, 
 the monkey stept in, and, with the utmost 
 dexterity, fastened it again in its place ; and 
 the disappointed weasel was too much fati- 
 gued to renew its operations. To this I will 
 only add what Father Carli, in his history of 
 Angola, assures us to be true. In that hor- 
 rid country, where he went to convert the sa- 
 vage natives to Christianity, and met with 
 nothing but distress and disappointment; 
 while his health was totally impaired by the 
 raging heats of the climate, his patience ex- 
 hausted by the obstinacy of the stupid natives, 
 and his little provisions daily plundered, with- 
 out redress, in such an exigency he found 
 more faithful services from the monkeys than 
 the men; these he had taught to attend him, 
 to guard him whilst sleeping against thieves 
 and rats, to comb his head, to fetch his water; 
 and, he asserts, that they were even more 
 tractable than the human inhabitants of the 
 place. It is indeed remarkable, that in those 
 countries where the men are most barbarous 
 and stupid, the brutes are most active and 
 sagacious. It is in the torrid tracts, inhabit- 
 ed by barbarians, that such various animals 
 are found with instinct so nearly approach- 
 ing reason. The savages, both of Africa and 
 America, accordingly suppose monkeys to be 
 men; idle, slothful, rational beings; capable 
 of speech and conversation; but obstinately 
 dumb, for fear of being compelled to labour. 
 As of all savages, those of Africa are the 
 most brutal, so, of all countries, the monkeys 
 of Africa are the most expert and entertain- 
 ing. The monkeys of America are, in gene- 
 ral, neither so sagacious nor so tractable, nor 
 is their form so nearly approaching that of 
 
THE MONKEY KIND. 
 
 411 
 
 man. The monkeys of the new continent 
 may be very easily distinguished from those 
 of the old, by three marks. Those of the 
 ancient continent are universally found to 
 have a naked callous substance behind, upon 
 which they sit ; which those of America are 
 entirely without : those also of the ancient 
 continent have the nostrils differently formed, 
 more resembling those of men, the holes 
 opening downward ; whereas the American 
 monkeys have them opening on each side : 
 those of the ancient world have pouches on 
 each side the jaw, into which they put their 
 provisions ; which those of America are with- 
 out: lastly, none of the monkeys of the an- 
 cient continent hang by the tail, which many 
 of the American sorts are known to do. By 
 these marks the monkeys of either continent 
 may be readily distinguished from each other, 
 and prized accordingly. The African mon- 
 key, as I am assured, requires a longer educa- 
 tion, and more correction, than that of Ameri- 
 ca; but it is at last found capable of more 
 various powers of imitation, and shows a 
 greater degree of cunning and activity. 
 
 Mr. Buffon, who has examined the race of 
 imitative beings with greater accuracy than 
 any other naturalist before him, makes but 
 nine species of monkeys belonging to the 
 ancient continent; and eleven belonging to 
 the new. To all these he gives the names 
 which they go by in their respective countries; 
 which, undoubtedly, is the method least liable 
 to error, and the most proper for imitation. 
 
 Of the monkeys of the ancient continent, 
 the first he describes is the MOCAGUO ; some- 
 what resembling a baboon in size, strength 
 of body, arid a hideous wrinkled visage : it 
 differs, however, in having a very long tail, 
 which is covered with tufted hair. It is a 
 native of Congo. 
 
 The second is the PATAS, which is about 
 the same size with the former ; but differs in 
 having a longer body, and a face less hide- 
 ous : it is particularly remarkable for the 
 colour of its hair, which is of a red, so brilli- 
 ant, that the animal looks as if it were actual- 
 ly painted. It is usually brought from Sene- 
 fal ; and by some called the red African mon- 
 ey. 
 
 The third of the ancient continent is the 
 MALBROUK ; of which he supposes the monkey 
 
 No. 35 & 36. 
 
 which he calls the BONET CHINOIS to be a 
 variety. The one is remarkable for a long 
 tail, and long beard ; the other, for a cap of 
 hair that covers the crown of the head, from 
 whence it takes the name. Both are natives 
 of the East Indies ; and the Bramins, who ex- 
 tend their charity to all the brute creation, 
 have hospitals for such of them as happen to 
 be sick, or otherwise disabled. 
 
 The fourth of this kind, is the MANGABEY ; 
 it may be distinguished from all others by its 
 eyelids, which are naked, and of a striking 
 whiteness. It is a native of Madagascar. 
 
 The fifth is the MONA, or the CEPHUS of the 
 ancients : it is distinguished by its colour, 
 which is variegated with black and red ; and 
 its tail is of an ash colour, with spots on each 
 side at its insertion. It is a native of the 
 northern parts of Africa. 
 
 The sixth is the CALLITRIX, or GREEN MON- 
 KEY of St. lago; distinguished by its beautiful 
 green colour on the back, its white breast and 
 belly, and its black face. 
 
 The seventh is the MOUSTOC, or WHITE NOSE; 
 distinguished by the whiteness of its lips, 
 from whence it has received its name, the 
 rest of the face being of a deep blue. It is a 
 native of the Gold Coast, and a very beauti- 
 ful little animal. 
 
 The eighth is the TALAPOIN ; and may be 
 distinguished as well by its beautiful variety 
 of green, white, and yellow hair, as by that 
 under the eyes being of a greater length than 
 the rest. It is supposed to be a native of 
 Africa and the East. 
 
 The ninth and last of the monkeys of the 
 ancient continent, is the DOUC, so called in 
 Cochin China, of which country it is a native. 
 The douc seems to unite the characters of 
 all the former together : with a long tail, like 
 the monkey ; of a size as large as the baboon; 
 and with a flat face like the ape ; it even re- 
 sembles the American monkeys, in having no 
 callosity on its posteriors. Thus it seems to 
 form the shade by which the monkeys of 
 one continent are linked with those of the 
 other. 
 
 Next come the monkeys of the new conti- 
 nent; which, as has been said, differ from 
 those of the old, in the make of their nostrils, 
 in their having no callosity on their posteri- 
 ors, and in their having no pouches on each 
 3Q 
 
412 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 side of the jaw. They differ also from each 
 other, a part of them making no use of their 
 tails to hang by; while others of them have 
 the tail very strong and muscular, and serving 
 by way of a fifth hand to hold by. Those 
 with muscular holding tails, are called SAPA- 
 jous; those with feeble useless tails, are call- 
 ed SAGOIXS. Of the sapajous there are five 
 sorts: of the sagoins there are six. 
 
 The first of the sapajous is the WARING, or 
 the BRAZILIAN GUARIBA. This monkey is as 
 large as a fox, with black long hair, and re- 
 markable for the loud ness of its voice. It is 
 the largest of the monkey kind to be found in 
 America. 
 
 The second is the COAITI; which may be 
 distinguished from the rest by having no 
 thumb, and consequently but four fingers on 
 the two fore paws. The tail, however, sup- 
 plies the defects of the hand; and with this 
 the animal slings itself from one tree to ano- 
 ther, with surprising rapidity. 
 
 The third is the SAJOU ; distinguished from 
 the rest of the sapajous by its yellowish, flesh- 
 coloured face. 
 
 The fourth is the SAI. It is somewhat 
 larger than the sajou,and has a broader muz- 
 zle. It is called also the BEVVAILER, from its 
 peculiar manner of lamenting when either 
 threatened or beaten. 
 
 The fifth and last of the sapajou kind, or 
 monkeys that hold by the tail, is the SAMARI, 
 or AURORA ; which is the smallest and most 
 beautiful of all. It is of a fine orange colour, 
 with two circles of flesh round the eyes. It 
 is a very tender, delicate animal, and held in 
 high price. 
 
 Of the sagoiris with feeble tails there are 
 six kinds. The first and the largest, is the 
 SAKI, or CAGUI; so remarkable for the length 
 of the hair on its tail, that it has been often 
 termed the FOX-TAILED MONKEY. It is of dif- 
 ferent sizes; some being twice as large as 
 others. 
 
 The second of this kind is the TAMAIN; 
 which is usually black, with the feet yellow. 
 Some, however, are found all over brown, 
 spotted with yellow. 
 
 The third is the WISTITI; remarkable for 
 the large tufts of hair upon its face, and its 
 annuUited tail. 
 
 The fourth is the JIARIKINA; with a mane 
 
 round the neck, and a bunch of hair at the 
 end of the tail, like a lion. 
 
 The fifth is called the IMNCH; with the face 
 of a beautiful black, and \vhitc hair that de- 
 scends on each side of the face, like that of 
 man. 
 
 The last, least, and most beautiful of all is, 
 the MICO, an animal too curiously adorned not 
 to demand a particular description; which is 
 thus given of it by Mr. Condamine: "That," 
 says he, " which the Governor of Para made 
 me a present of, was the only one of its kind 
 that was seen in the country. The hair ou 
 its body was of a beautiful silver colour, 
 brighter than that of the most venerable hu- 
 man hair ; while the tail was of a deep brown, 
 inclining to blackness. It had another sin- 
 gularity more remarkable than the former; 
 its ears, its cheeks, and lips, were tinctured 
 with so bright a vermilion, that one could 
 scarcely be led to suppose that it was natu- 
 ral. 1 kept it a year; and it was still alive 
 when 1 made this description of it, almost 
 within sight of the coasts of France: all I 
 could then do was to preserve it in spirits of 
 wine, which might serve to keep it in such a 
 state as to show that I did not in the least 
 exaggerate in my description." 
 
 OF THE MAKI. 
 
 THE last of the monkey kind are the Ma- 
 kies ; which have no other pretensions to be 
 placed in this class, except that of haying 
 hands like the former, and making use of 
 them to climb trees, or to pluck their food. 
 Animals of the hare kind, indeed, are often 
 seen to feed themselves with their fore paws, 
 hut they can hold nothing in one of them 
 singly, and are obliged to take up whatever 
 they eat in both at once: but it is otherwise 
 with the maki; as well as the monkey kinds, 
 they seize their food with one hand, pretty 
 much like a man, and grasp it with great ease 
 and firmness. The maki, therefore, from 
 this conformation in its hands both before 
 and behind, approaches nearly to the mon- 
 key kind ; but in other respects, such as the 
 make of the snout, the form of the ears, and 
 the parts that distinguish the sexes, it entire- 
 ly differs from them. There are many dif 
 
Engraved, iff -'" 
 
 JV<. Edwards f{ t 
 
 "LJD.Virgimaiia Alrginian O. 2 D.Petaums Petaurine 3 D. Murina Murine O 4 t).Gigantea Great K. a-Mas. b.Fem. 
 
THE MONKEY KIND. 
 
 413 
 
 ferent kinds of these animals; all varying 
 from each other in colour or size, but agree- 
 ing in the human-like figure of their hands 
 and feet, and in their long nose, which some- 
 what resembles that of a dog. As most of 
 these are bred in the depths of the forest, we 
 know little more concerning them than their 
 figure. Their way of living, their power of 
 pursuit and escape, can only be supposed, 
 from the analogy of their conformation, some- 
 what to resemble those of the monkey. 
 
 The first of this kind is the MOCOCO ; a beau- 
 tiful animal, about the size of a common cat, 
 but the body and limbs slenderer, and of a 
 longer make. It has a very long tail, at least 
 double the length of its body ; it is covered 
 with fur, and marked alternately with broad 
 rings of black and white. But what it is 
 chiefly remarkable for, besides the form of its 
 hands and feet, is the largeness of its eyes, 
 which are surrounded with a broad blark 
 space ; and the length of the hinder legs, 
 which by far exceed those before. When it 
 sleeps, it brings its nose to its belly, and ifs 
 tail over its head. When it plays, it uses a 
 sort of galloping, with its tail raised over its 
 back, which keeps continually in motion. 
 The head is covered with dark ash-coloured 
 hair; the back and sides with a red ash-colour, 
 and not so dark as on the head ; and the 
 whole glossy, soft, and drlicate, smooth to the 
 touch, and standing almost upright like the 
 pile of velvet. It is a native of Madagascar ; 
 appears to be a harmless gentle animal ; and 
 though it resembles the monkey in many re- 
 spects, yet it has neither its malice nor its mis- 
 chief: nevertheless, like the monkey, it seems 
 to be always in motion ; and moves, like all 
 four-handed animals, in an oblique direction. 
 
 A second of this kind, which is also a na- 
 tive of Madagascar, is the MONGOZ ; which is 
 less than the former ; with a soft glossy robe, 
 but a little curled. The nose also is thicker 
 than that of tho mococo ; the eyes are black, 
 with orange-coloured circles round the pupil ; 
 and the tail is of one uniform colour. As to 
 the rest, it is found of various colours ; some 
 being black, others brown ; and its actions 
 somewhat resemble those of a monkey. 
 
 The VARI is much larger than either of the 
 former ; its hair is much longer, and it has a 
 kind of ruff round the neck, consisting of very 
 long hair, by which it may be easily distin- 
 
 guished from the rest. It differs also in its 
 disposition, which is fierce and savage ; as also 
 in the loudness of its voice, which somewhat 
 resembles the roaring of the lion. This also 
 is a native of Madagascar. 
 
 To this tribe we may refer a little four-hand- 
 ed animal, of the island of Ceylon, which Mr. 
 Buffon calls the LORI ; very remarkable for 
 the singularity of its figure. This is, of all 
 other animals, the longest in proportion to its 
 size ; having nine vertebrae in the loins ; 
 whereas other quadrupeds have only seven.* 
 The body appears still the longer by having 
 no tail. In other respects, it resembles those 
 of the maki kind ; as well in its hands and 
 feet, as in its snout, and in the glossy qualities 
 of its hair. It is about the size of a squirrel ; 
 and appears to be a tame, harmless little ani- 
 mal. 
 
 OF THE OPPOSSUM, AND ITS KINDS. 
 
 To these four-handed animals of the ancient 
 continent, we may add the four-handed ani- 
 mals of the new, that use their hands like the 
 former, as well as their tails, and that fill up 
 the chasm between the monkey tribe and the 
 lower orders of the forest. As the maki kind 
 in some measure seem to unite the fox and the 
 monkey in their figure and size, so these seem 
 to unite the monkey and the rat. They are 
 all less than the former ; they have long tails, 
 almost bare of hair ; and their fur, as well as 
 their shape, seems to place them near the rat 
 kind. Some have accordingly ranked them 
 in that class; but their being four handed is 
 a sufficient reason for placing them in the rear 
 of the monkeys. 
 
 The first, and the most remarkable of this 
 tribe, is the OPPOSSUM, an animal found both 
 in North and South America, of the size of a 
 small cat. The head resembles that of a fox ; 
 it has fifty treth in all, but two great ones in 
 the midst like those of a rat. The eyes are 
 little, round, clear, lively, and placed upright, 
 the ears are longj broad, and transparent, like 
 those of the rat kind ; its tail also increases 
 the similitude, being round, long, a little hairy 
 in the beginning, but quite naked Kwards the 
 end. The fore legs are short, being about 
 three inches long ; while those behind are 
 
 a Biiflbn, vol. xxvi. p. 274. 
 
 3Q 
 
414 
 
 ANIMALS OF 
 
 about four. The feet are like hands, each 
 having five toes or fingers with white crooked 
 nails, and rather longer behind than before. 
 But it is particular in this animal, that the 
 thumb on the hinder legs wants a nail ; where- 
 as the fingers arc furnished with clawed nails 
 as usual. 
 
 But that which distinguishes this animal from 
 all others, and what has excited the wonder of 
 mankind for more than two centuries, is the 
 extraordinary conformation of its belly, as it 
 is found to have a false womb, into which the 
 young, when brought forth in the usual man- 
 ner, creep, and continue for some days longer, 
 to lodge and suckle securely. This bag, if we 
 may so call it, being one of the most extraor- 
 dinary things in natural history, requires a 
 more minute description. Under the belly of 
 the feaiale is a kind of slit or opening, of about 
 three inches long ; this opening is composed 
 of a skin, which makes a bag internally, that 
 is covered on the inside with hair, and in this 
 bag are the teats of the female ; and into it the 
 young, when brought forth, retire, either to 
 suckle or to escape from danger. This bag 
 has a power of opening and shutting, at the 
 will of the animal ; and this is performed by 
 means of several muscles, and two bones, that 
 are fitted for this purpose, and that are peculiar 
 to this animal only. These two bones are 
 placed before the os pubis, to which they are 
 joined at the base ; they are about two inches 
 long, and grow smaller and smaller to their 
 extremities. These support the muscles that 
 serve to open the bag, and give them a fixture. 
 To these muscles there are antagonists, that 
 serve in the same manner to shut the bag ; 
 and this they perform so exactly, that in the 
 living animal the opening can scarcely be dis- 
 cerned, except when the sides are forcibly 
 drawn asunder. The inside of this bag is 
 furnished with glands, that exude a musky 
 substance, which communicates to the flesh 
 of the animal, and renders it unfit to be eaten. 
 It is not to be supposed that this is the place 
 where the young are conceived, as some have 
 been led to imagine ; for the oppossu'ii has 
 another womb, like that of the generality of 
 animals, in which generation is performed in 
 the ordinary manner. The bag we have been 
 describing may rather be considered as a sup- 
 plemental womb. In the real womb, the lit- 
 tle animal is partly brought to perfection ; in 
 
 the ordinary one, it receives a kind of addi- 
 tional incubation ; and acquires, at last, strength 
 enough to follow the dam wherever she goes. 
 We have many reasons to suppose that the 
 young of this animal are all brought forth 
 prematurely, or before they have acquired 
 that degree of perfection which is common in 
 other quadrupeds. The little ones, when first 
 produced, are in a manner but half completed ; 
 and some travellers assert, that they are at 
 that time not much larger than flies. We are 
 assured also, that immediately on quitting the 
 real womb, they creep into the false one; 
 where they continue fixed to the teat, until 
 they have strength sufficient to venture once 
 once more into the open air, and share the 
 fatigues of the parent. Ulloa assures us, that 
 he has found five of these little creatures hid- 
 den in the belly of the dam three days after 
 she was dead, still alive, and all clinging to the 
 teat with great avidity. It is probable, there- 
 fore, that upon their first entering the false 
 womb, they seldom stir out from thence ; but 
 when more advanced, they venture forth 
 several times in the day, and, at last, seldom 
 make use of their retreat, except in cases of 
 necessity or danger. Travellers are not 
 agreed in their accounts of the time which 
 these animals take to continue in the false 
 womb ; some assure us they remain there for 
 several weeks ; and others, more precisely, 
 mention a month. During this period of 
 strange gestation, there is no difficulty in open- 
 ing the bag in which they are concealed ; 
 they may be reckoned, examined, and hand- 
 led, without much inconvenience ; for they 
 keep fixed to the teat, and cling there as firm 
 as if they made a part of the body of the ani- 
 mal that bears them. When they are grown 
 stronger, they drop from the teat into the bag 
 in which they are contained ; and, at last, find 
 their way out, in search of more copious sub- 
 sistence. Still, however, the false belly serves 
 them for a retreat, either when they want to 
 slei'p or to suckle, or when they are pursued 
 by an enemy. The dam, on such occasions, 
 opens her bag to receive them, which they 
 enter, 
 
 -Pars formidinp turpi 
 
 Scanduut rursus equum et nota conduntur in alvo. 
 
 The oppossum, when on the ground, is a 
 slow, helpless animal ; the formation of its 
 
THE MONKEY KIND. 
 
 415 
 
 hands are alone sufficient to show its incapacity 
 of running with any degree of swiftness ; but, 
 to counterbalance this inconvenience, it climbs 
 trees with great ease and expedition.* It 
 chiefly subsists upon birds ; and hides among 
 the leaves of the trees, to seize them by sur- 
 prise. It often also hangs by the tail, which 
 is long and muscular; and, in this situation, 
 for hours together, with the head downwards, 
 it keeps watching for its prey. If any lesser 
 animal, which it is able to overcome, passes 
 underneath, it drops upon it with deadly aim, 
 and quickly devours it. By means of its tail, 
 the oppossum also slings from one tree to 
 another, hunts insects, escapes its pursuers, 
 and provides for its safety. It seems to be a 
 creature that lives upon vegetables, as well as 
 animal substances, roots, sugar-canes, the bark, 
 and even the leaves, of trees. It is easily 
 tamed, but it is a disagreeable domestic, as 
 well from its stupidity and figure, as its scent, 
 which, however fragrant in small quantities, 
 fails not to be ungrateful when copiously sup- 
 plied. 
 
 An animal greatly resembling the former, b is 
 the MARMOSE, which is found in the same con- 
 tinent. It seems only to differ in size, be- 
 ing less ; and, instead of a bag to receive its 
 young, has only two longitudinal folds near 
 the thighs, within which the young, which are 
 prematurely brought forth, as in the last in- 
 stance, continue to suckle. The young of 
 these, when first produced, are not above the 
 size of a bean ; but continue sticking to the 
 teat, until they have arrived at greater maturity. 
 
 The CAYOPOLIN is somewhat larger than the 
 former, and a good deal resembling it in habits 
 and figure, except that its snout is more point- 
 ed, its tail longer in proportion, and its colour 
 different, being of an ash, somewhat inclining 
 to yellow ; however, I should suppose it to 
 be only a variety of the former. 
 
 To this number we may add the PHALAX- 
 GER, so called by Mr. Buffon ; a good deal re- 
 sembling the former, but distinguished by the 
 fashion of its hinder hands ; the thumb and 
 fore-finger being joined together, except at the 
 extremities. This animal is about the size of 
 a rat, and has, accordingly, by some, been 
 called the RAT OF SURINAM. 
 
 The last animal of this class is called, by 
 
 Buffon, vol. xxi. p. 1~4. 
 
 Mr. Buffon, the TARSIER. This extraordinary 
 little animal resembles the former, in having 
 four hands, and a long tail ; but it differs very 
 much in the extreme length of its -hinder legs, 
 which are longer than the rest of its whole 
 body. The bones of that part of the foot call- 
 ed the tarsus, are likewise so very long, that 
 from thence the animal has received its name: 
 the tail is naked in the middle, and hairy only 
 at both extremities : its hair is woolly, soft, and 
 of a deep ash colour. As to the rest, it is un- 
 known from what country this animal was 
 brought ; but the naturalist from whom we 
 have this description, supposes it to be a native 
 of America. 
 
 From this general description of four-handed 
 animals, we perceive what few advantages 
 the brute creation derive from those organs, 
 that, in man, are employed to so many great 
 and useful purposes. They being able to pluck 
 their food from the trees, the capacity of cling- 
 ing among the branches, and at most of con- 
 verting one of those branches into a weapon 
 of offence, are the highest stretches of their 
 sagacity, and the only use their hands have 
 hitherto been employed in ; and yet some su- 
 perficial men have asserted, that the hands 
 alone are sufficient to vindicate the dominion 
 of mankind over other animals ; and that 
 much of his boasted reason, is nothing more 
 than the result of his happier conformation : 
 however, were this so, an ape or a monkey 
 would in some instances be more rational than 
 we ; their fingers are smaller, and, in some of 
 them, more finely formed than ours. To what 
 a variety of purposes might they not be em- 
 ployed, if their powers were properly exerted! 
 Those works which we, from the largeness of 
 our fingers, are obliged to go clumsily about, 
 one of these could very easily perform with 
 the utmost exactness ; and if the fineness of 
 the hand assisted reason, an ape would be one 
 of the most reasonable beings in the creation. 
 But, these admirably formed machines, are 
 almost useless both to mankind and themselves; 
 and contribute little more to the happiness of 
 animal life, than the paws of the lowest quad- 
 ruped. They are supplied, indeed, with the 
 organs ; but they want the mind, to put them 
 into action ; it is that reasoning principle 
 , with which man has been endowed, 
 
 Buffon, vol. xxi. p. 212. 
 
416 
 
 THE ELEPHANT. 
 
 that can adapt seemingly opposite causes to 
 concur in the same general design ; and even 
 where the organs are deficient, that can sup- 
 ply their place, by the intervention of assisting 
 instruments. Where reason prevails, we find 
 that it scarcely matters what the organs are 
 that give it the direction ; the being furnished 
 with that principle still goes forward, steadily, 
 and uniformly successful; breaks through every 
 obstacle, and becomes master of every enter- 
 prise. I have seen a man, without hands or 
 
 [Nearly allied to the last kind, in having a pouch for the 
 security of its young, but differing in many other particu- 
 lars, is the KANGUROO, a native of New Holland, first dis- 
 covered by Captain Cook in the year 1770. Its size is at 
 least that of a full-grown sheep ; but there is a remarkable 
 disproportion in its shape, the head and neck being veiy 
 small, while the lower parts gradually, dilate to a very 
 great size : the fore legs are hardly 19 inches long, while 
 the hinder ones measure 3 feet 9 inches : accordingly, 
 this animal's pace consists of vast springs or bounds, said 
 
 legs, convert, by practice, his very stumps to 
 the most convenient purposes ; and with these 
 clumsy instruments perform the most aston- 
 ishing feats of dexterity. We may, therefore 
 conclude, that it is the mind alone that gives a 
 master to the creation ; and that, if a bear or 
 a horse were endowed with the same intellects 
 that have been given to man, the hardness of a 
 hoof, or the awkwardness of a paw, would be 
 no obstacle to their advancement in the arts of 
 dominion, or of social felicity. 
 
 to exceed 9 feet in height and 20 in length. The tail 
 is of such great strength as to be able to break a man's 
 leg at a single blow. The young ones (of which the fe- 
 male is said to have only one at a time) at first hardly ex- 
 ceed an inch in length, and in the early periods of their 
 growth reside entirely within the pouch of the dam. They 
 feed on vegetables, drink by lapping, and burrow under 
 ground. The Rat Kanguroo differs from the above, be- 
 ing only about the size of a rabbit, and is far less elegant 
 and pleasing.] 
 
 CHAPTER LIX. 
 
 OF THE ELEPHANT. 
 
 HAVING gone through the description of 
 those quadrupeds that, by resembling each 
 other in some striking particular, admit of be- 
 ing grouped together, and considered under 
 one point of view, we now come to those insu- 
 lated sorts that bear no similitude with the rest, 
 and that to be distinctly described must be 
 separately considered. 
 
 The foremost of these, and in every respect 
 the noblest quadruped in nature, is the ele- 
 phant, not less remarkable for its size than its 
 docility and understanding. All historians 
 concur in giving it the character of the most 
 sagacious animal next to man ; and yet, were 
 we to take our idea of its capacity from its 
 outward appearance, we should be led to con- 
 ceive very meanly of its abilities. The ele- 
 phant, at first view, presents the spectator with 
 an enormous mass of flesh that seems scarcely 
 animated. Its huge body, covered with a cal- 
 lous hide, without hair ; its large mis-shapen 
 legs, that seem scarcely formed for motion ; its 
 little eyes, large ears, and long trunk ; all give 
 
 it an air of extreme stupidity. But our pre- 
 judices will soon subside when we come to 
 examine its history ; they will even serve to 
 increase our surprise, when we consider the 
 various advantages it derives from so clumsy 
 a conformation. 
 
 The elephant is seen from seven to no less 
 than fifteen feet high. Whatever care we take 
 to imagine a large animal beforehand, yet the 
 first sight of this huge creature never fails to 
 strike us with astonishment, and in somf 1 mea- 
 sure to exceed our idea. Having been used 
 to smaller animals, we have scarcely any con- 
 ception of its magnitude ; for a moving column 
 of flesh, fourteen feet high, is an object so ut- 
 terly different from those we are constantly 
 presented with, that to be conceived it must 
 be actually seen. Such, I own, were the sug- 
 gestions that naturally arose to me when I first 
 saw this animal, and yet for the sight of which 
 I had taken care to prrpare my imagination. 
 I found my ideas fall as short of its real size, 
 as they did of its real figure ; neither the pic- 
 
THE ELEPHANT. 
 
 41V 
 
 tures I had seen, nor the descriptions I had 
 read, giving me adequate conceptions of 
 either. 
 
 It would, therefore, be impossible to give an 
 idea of this animal's figure by a description ; 
 which, even assisted by the art of the engraver, 
 will but confusedly represent the original. In 
 general it may be observed, that the forehead 
 is very high ard rising, the ears very large and 
 dependent, the eyes extremely small, the pro- 
 boscis or trunk long, the body round and full, 
 the back rising in an arch, and the whole ani- 
 mal short in proportion to its height. The feet 
 are round at the bottom ; on each foot there 
 are five flat horny risings, which seem to be 
 the extremities of the toes, but do not appear 
 outwardly. The hide is without hair, full of 
 scratches and scars, which it receives in its 
 passage through thick woods and thorny pla- 
 ces. At the end of the tail there is a tuft of 
 hair, a foot and a half long. The female is 
 less than the male, and the udder is between 
 the fore legs. But a more accurate, as well 
 as a more entertaining description of the parts, 
 will naturally occur in the history of their 
 uses. 
 
 Of all quadrupeds, the elephant is the strong- 
 est, as well as the largest ; and yet, in a state 
 of nature, it is neither fierce nor formidable/ 
 Mild, peaceful, and brave, it never abuses its 
 power or its strength, and only uses its force 
 for its own protection, or that of its communi- 
 ty. In its native deserts, the elephant is sel- 
 dom seen alone, but appears to be a social, 
 friendly creature. The oldest of the company 
 conducts the band ; that which is next in se- 
 niority brings up the rear. The young, the 
 weak, and the sickly, fall into the centre ; 
 vhile the females carry their young, and keep 
 them from falling by means of their trunks. 
 They maintain this order only in dangerous 
 marches, or when they desire to feed in cul- 
 tivated grounds ; they move with less precau- 
 tion in the forests and solitudes ; but without 
 ever separating, or removing so far asunder as 
 to be incapable of lending each other any re- 
 quisite assistance. Nothing can be more for- 
 midable than a drove of elephants, as they ap- 
 pear at a distance in an African landscape ; 
 
 I have extracted the greatest part of this description 
 from Mr. Buffon. Where I add, I mark with commas, 
 " thus." 
 
 wherever they march, the forests seem to fall 
 before them ; in their passage, they bear down 
 the branches upon which they feed ; and if 
 they enter into an enclosure, they destroy all 
 the labours of the husbandman in a very short 
 time. Their invasions are the more disagree- 
 able, as there is no means of repelling them ; 
 since it would require a small army to attack 
 the whole drove when united. It now and 
 then happens that one or two is found linger- 
 ing behind the rest, and it is against these that 
 the art and force of the hunters are united ; 
 but an attempt to molest the whole body 
 would certainly be fatal. They go forward 
 directly against him who offers the insult, 
 strike him with their tusks, seize him with 
 their trunks, fling him into the air, and then 
 trample him to pieces under their feet. But 
 they are thus dreadful only when offended,' 
 and do no manner of personal injury when 
 suffered to feed without interruption. It is 
 even said that they are mindful of injuries re- 
 ceived; and, when once molested by man, 
 seek all occasions for the future to be revenged ; 
 they smell him with their long trunks at a dis- 
 tance ; follow him with all their speed upon 
 the scent ; and, though slow to appearance, 
 they are soon able to cotne up with and de- 
 stroy him. 
 
 In their natural state, they delight to live 
 along the sides of rivers, to keep in the deep- 
 est vales, to refresh themselves in the most sha- 
 dy forests and watery places. They cannot 
 live far from the water ; and they always dis- 
 turb it before they drink. They often fill 
 their trunk with it, either to cool that organ, 
 or to divert themselves by spurting it out like 
 a fountain. They are equally distressed by 
 the extremes of heat and cold ; and, to avoid 
 the former, they frequently take shelter in the 
 most obscure recesses of the forest, or often 
 plunge into the water, and even swim from 
 the continent into islands some leagues distant 
 from the shore. 
 
 Their chief food is of the vegetable kind, 
 for they loathe all kind of animal diet. When 
 one among their number happens to light upon 
 a spot of good pasture, he calls the rest, and 
 invites them to share in the entertainment ; 
 but it must be a very copious pasture indeed 
 that can supply the necessities of the whole 
 band. As with their broad and heavy feet 
 they sink deep wherever they go, they destroy 
 
418 
 
 THE ELEPHANT. 
 
 
 much more than they devour ; so that they 
 are frequently obliged to change their quar- 
 ters, and to migrate from one country to ano- 
 ther. The Indians and negroes, who are 
 often incommoded by such visitants, do all 
 they can to keep them away, making loud 
 noises, and large fires round their cultivated 
 grounds : but these precautions do not always 
 succeed ; the elephants often break through 
 their fences, destroy their whole harvest, and 
 overturn their little habitations. When they 
 have satisfied themselves, and trod down or 
 devoured whatever lay in their way, they then 
 retreat into the woods in the same orderly man- 
 ner in which they made their irruption. 
 
 Such are the habits of this animal, consider- 
 ed in a social light ; and, if we regard it as an 
 individual, we shall find its powers still more 
 extraordinary. With a very awkward appear- 
 ance, it possesses all the senses in great per- 
 fection, and is capable of applying them to 
 more useful purposes than any other quadru- 
 ped. The elephant, as we observed, has very 
 small eyes, when compared to the enormous 
 bulk of its body. But though their minuteness 
 may at first sight appear deformed, yet, when 
 we come to examine them, they are seen to 
 exhibit a variety of expression, and to discover 
 the various sensations with which it is moved. 
 It turns them with attention and friendship to 
 its master ; it seems to reflect and deliberate ; 
 and as its passions slowly succeed each 
 other, their various workings are distinctly 
 seen. 
 
 The elephant is not less remarkable for the 
 excellence of its hearing. Its ears are extremely 
 large, and greater in proportion than even those 
 of an ass. They are usually dependent ; but 
 it can readily raise and move them. They 
 serve also to wipe its eyes, and to protect them 
 against the dust and flies that might otherwise 
 incommode them. It appears delighted with 
 music, and very readily learns to beat time, to 
 move in measure, and even to join its voice 
 to the sound of the drum and the trumpet. 
 
 This animal's sense of smelling is not only 
 exquisite, but it is in a great measure pleased 
 with the same odours that delight mankind. 
 The elephant gathers flowers with great plea- 
 sure and attention ; it picks them up one by 
 one, unites them into a nosegay, and seems 
 charmed with the perfume. The orange-flower 
 seams to be particularly grateful, both to its 
 
 sense of taste and smelling ; it strips the tree 
 of all its verdure, and eats every part of it, even 
 to the branches themselves. It seeks in the 
 meadows the most odoriferous plants to feed 
 upon ; and in the woods it prefers the cocoa, 
 the banana, the palm, and the sago-tree, to all 
 others. As the shoots of these are tender, and 
 filled with pith, it eats not only the leaves and 
 the fruits, but even the branches, the trunk, 
 and the whole plant to the very roots. 
 
 But it is in the sense of touching that this 
 animal excels all others of the brute creation, 
 and perhaps even man himself. The organ of 
 this sense lies wholly in the trunk, which is an 
 instrument peculiar to this animal, anil that 
 serves it for all the purposes of a hand. The 
 trunk is, properly speaking, only the snout 
 lengthened out to a great extent, hollow like a 
 pipe, and ending in two openings, or nostrils, 
 like those of a hog. An elephant of fourteen 
 feet high has the trunk about eight feet long, 
 and five feet and a half in circumference at the 
 mouth, where it is thickest. It is hollow all 
 along, but with a partition running from one 
 end of it to the other ; so that though outward- 
 ly it appears like a single pipe, it is inwardly 
 divided into two. This fleshy tube is com- 
 posed of nerves and muscles, covered with a 
 proper skin of a blackish colour, like that of 
 the rest of the body. It is capable of bring 
 moved in every direction, of being lengthened 
 and shortened, of being bent or straightened ; 
 so pliant as to embrace any body it is applied 
 to, and yet so strong that nothing can be torn 
 from the gripe. To aid the force of this grasp, 
 there are several little eminences, like a cater- 
 pillar'sfeet, on theunderside of this instrument, 
 which without doubt contribute to the sensi- 
 bility of the touch, as well as to the firmness 
 of the hold. Through this trunk the animal 
 breathes, drinks, and smells, as through a tube; 
 and at the very point of it, just above the nos- 
 trils, there is an extension of the skin, about 
 five inches long, in the form of a finger, and 
 which, in fact, answers all the purposes of one ; 
 for, with the rest of the extremity of the trunk, 
 it is capable of assuming different forms at 
 will, and consequently of being adapted to the 
 minutest objects. By means of this, the elephant 
 can take a pin from the ground, untie the knots 
 of a rope, unlock a door, and even write with 
 a pen. " I have myself seen," says .ZElian, 
 " an elephant writing Latin characters on a 
 
THE EJ.-EPHANT. 
 
 419 
 
 board, in a very orderly manner, his keeper 
 only showing h'un the figure of each letter. 
 Wiiile thus employed, the eyes might be ob- 
 served studiously cast down upon the writing, 
 and exhibiting an appearance of great skill 
 and erudition." It sometimes happens that 
 the object is too large for the trunk to grasp ; 
 in such a case the elephant makes use of 
 another expedient, as admirable as any of the 
 former. It applies the extremity of the trunk 
 to the surface of the object, and, sucking up 
 its breath, lifts and sustains such a weight as 
 the air in that case is capable of keeping sus- 
 pended. In this manner this instrument is 
 useful in most of the purposes of life ; it is an 
 organ of smelling, of touching, and of suction ; 
 it not only provides for the animal's necessities 
 and comforts, but it also serves for its orna- 
 ment and defence. 
 
 But, though the elephant be thus admirably 
 supplied by its trunk, yet, with resprct to the 
 rest of its conformation, it is unwieldly and 
 helpless. The neck is so short that it can 
 scarcely turn the head, and must wheel round 
 in order to discover an enemy from behind. 
 The hunters that attack it upon that quarter, 
 generally thus escape the effects of its indigna- 
 tion ; and find time to renew their assaults 
 waile the elephant is turning to face them. 
 The legs are, indeed, not so inflexible as the 
 neck, yet they are very stiff, and bend not 
 without difficulty. Those before seem to be 
 longer than the hinder ; but, upon being mea- 
 sured, are found to be something shorter. 
 The joints, by which they bend, are nearly in 
 the middle, like the knee of a man; and the 
 great bulk which they are to support makes 
 their flexure ungainly. While the elephant is 
 young, it bends the legs to lie down or to rise; 
 but when it grows old, or sickly, this is not 
 performed without human assistance, and it 
 becomes, consequently, so inconvenient, that 
 the animal chooses to sleep standing. The 
 feet, upon which these massy columns are sup- 
 ported, form a base scarcely broader than the 
 legs they sustain. They are divided into five 
 toes, which are covered beneath the skin, and 
 none of which appear to the eye ; a kind of 
 protuberance like claws are only observed, 
 which vary in number from three to five. 
 The apparent claws vary ; the internal toes 
 are constantly the same. The sole of the foot 
 is furnished with a skin as thick and hard as 
 
 NO. 35 & 36. 
 
 horn, and which completely covers the whole 
 under-part of the foot. 
 
 To the rest of the elephant's incumbrances 
 may be added its enormous tusks, which are 
 unserviceable for chewing, and are only wea- 
 pons of defence. These, as the animal grows 
 old, become so heavy, that it is sometimes 
 obliged to make holes in the walls of its stall 
 to rest them in, and ease itself of the fatigue of 
 their support. It is well known to what an 
 amazing size these tusks grow ; they are two 
 in number, proceeding from the upper jaw, 
 and are sometimes found above six feet long. 
 Some have supposed them to be rather the horns 
 than the teeth of this animal ; but, besides their 
 greater similitude to bone than to horn, they 
 have been indisputably found to grow from the 
 upper jaw, and not from the frontal bones, as 
 some have thought proper to assert." Some 
 also have asserted, that these tusks are shed 
 in the same manner as the stag sheds its horns ; 
 but it is very probable, from their solid con- 
 sistence, and from their accidental defects, 
 which often appears to be the effect of a slow 
 decay, that they areasfixed asthe teeth of other 
 animals are generally found (o be. Certain it is 
 that the elephant never sheds them in a do- 
 mestic state, but keeps them till they be- 
 come inconvenient and encumbersome to the 
 last degree. An account of the uses to which 
 these teeth are applied, and the manner of 
 choosing the best ivory, belongs rather to a 
 history of the arts than of nature. 
 
 This animal is equally singular in other parts 
 of its conformation ; the lips and the tongue 
 in other creatures serve to suck up and direct 
 their drink or their food ; but in the elephant 
 they are totally inconvenient for such pur- 
 poses ; and it not only gathers its food with its 
 trunk, but supplies itself with water by the 
 same means. When it eats hay, as I have 
 seen it frequently, it takes up a small wisp of 
 it with the trunk, turns and shapes it with that 
 instrument for some time, and then directs it 
 into the mouth, where it is chewed by the great 
 grinding teeth, that are large in proportion to 
 the bulk of the animal. This pacquet, when 
 chewed, is swallowed, and never ruminated 
 again, as in cows or sheep, the stomach and 
 intestines of this creature more resembling 
 
 a See Mr. Daubenton's description of the skeleton of 
 this animal. 
 
 3R 
 
420 
 
 THE ELEPHANT. 
 
 those of a horse. Its manner of drinking is 
 equally extraordinary. For this purpose, the 
 elephant dips the end of its trunk into the 
 water, and sucks up just as much as fills that 
 great fleshy tube completely. It then lifts up 
 its head with the trunk full, and turning the 
 point into its mouth, as if it intended to swal- 
 low trunk and all, it drives the point below 
 the opening of the wind-pipe. The trunk 
 being in this position, and still full of water, 
 the elephant then blows strongly into it at 
 the other end, which forces the water it con- 
 tains into the throat; down which it is heard 
 to pour with a loud gurgling noise, which 
 continues till the whole is blown down. 
 From this manner of drinking, some have 
 been led into an opinion that the young ele- 
 phant sucks with its trunk, and not with its 
 mouth ; this, however, is a fact which no tra- 
 veller has hitherto had an opportunity of see- 
 ing, and it must be referred to some future 
 accident to determine.* 
 
 The hide of the elephant is as remarkable 
 as any other part. It is not covered over 
 with hair, as in the generality of quadrupeds, 
 but is nearly bare. Here and there indeed 
 a few bristles are seen growing in the scars 
 and wrinkles of the body, but very thinly 
 scattered over the rest of the skin ; but in 
 general the head is dry, rough, and wrinkled, 
 and resembling more the bark of an old tree 
 than the skin of an animal. This grows thicker 
 every year; and by a constant addition of 
 substance, it at length contracts that disorder 
 well known by the name of the elephantiasis, 
 or Arabian leprosy; a disease to which man, 
 as well as the elephant, is often subject. In 
 order to prevent this, the Indians rub the ele- 
 phant with oil, and frequently bathe it, to 
 preserve its pliancy. To the inconveniences 
 of this disorder is added another, arising from 
 the great sensibility of those parts that are 
 not callous. Upon these the flies settle in 
 great abundance, and torment this animal un- 
 ceasingly; to remedy which, the elephant 
 tries all its arts; using not only its tail and 
 trunk in the natural manner to keep them 
 
 The young elephant, it i now known, dues not suck 
 by the trunk, but by the mouth only, as in all other quad- 
 rupeds ; during which the trunk of the young is thrown 
 back over the head. It is, however, highly remarkable, 
 
 off, but even takes the branch of a tree, or a 
 bundle of hay, to strike them off with. When 
 this fails, it often gathers up the dust with its 
 trunk, and thus covers all the sensible places 
 In this manner it has been seen to dust itseli 
 several times a day, and particularly upon 
 leaving the bath. 
 
 Water is as necessary to this animal as foou 
 itself. When in a state of nature, the ele- 
 phant rarely quits the banks of the river, and 
 often stands in water up to the belly. In a 
 state of servitude, the Indians take equal care 
 to provide a proper supply; they wash it 
 with great address; they give it all the con- 
 veniences for lending assistance to itself; 
 they smooth the skin with a pumice-stone, 
 and then rub it over with oils, essences, and 
 odours. 
 
 Itisnotto be wondered at that an animal fur- 
 nished with so many various advantages, both 
 of strength, sagacity, and obedience, should 
 he taken into the service of man. W T e ac- 
 cordingly find that the elephant, from time 
 immemorial, has been employed either for 
 the purposes of labour, of war, or of ostenta- 
 tion; to increase the grandeur of eastern 
 princes, or to extend their dominions. We 
 have hitherto been describing this animal in 
 its natural state; we now come to consider 
 it in a different view, as taken from the forest, 
 and reduced to human obedience. We are 
 now to behold this brave harmless creature 
 as learning a lesson from mankind, and in- 
 structed by him in all the arts of war, mas- 
 sacre, and devastation. We are now to be- 
 hold this half-reasoning animal led into the 
 field of battle, and wondering at those tumults 
 and that madness which he is compelled to 
 increase. The elephant is a native of Africa 
 and Asia, being found neither in Europe nor 
 America. In Africa he still retains his natu- 
 ral liberty. The savage inhabitants of that 
 part of the world, instead of attempting to 
 subdue this powerful creature to their neces- 
 sities, are happy in being able to protect them- 
 selves from his fury. Formerly, indeed, du- 
 ring the splendour of the Carthaginian empire, 
 
 if what is related be true, that they do not attach them- 
 selves to their dams in par'icuh 11 , but suck indiscriminate- 
 ly the females of the whole herd. 
 
THE ELEPHANT. 
 
 421 
 
 elephants were used in their wars ; but this 
 was only a transitory gleam of human power 
 in thai p.irt of the globe: the natives of 
 AfVi ' i h.we long since degenerated, and the 
 elephant is oaly known among them from his 
 devastations. However, there are no ele- 
 phants in the northern parts of Africa at pre- 
 sent, there being none found on this side of 
 Mount Atlas. It is beyond the river Senegal 
 that they are to be met with in great numbers, 
 and so down to the Cape of Good Hope, as 
 well as in the heart of the country. In this 
 extensive region they appear to be more nu- 
 merous than in any other part of the world. 
 They are there less fearful of man: less re- 
 tired into the heart of the forests, they seem 
 to be sensible of his impotence and ignorance; 
 and often come down to ravage his little la- 
 bours. They treat him with the same haugh- 
 ty disdain which they show to other animals, 
 and consider him as a mischievous little being, 
 that fears to oppose them openly. 
 
 But although these animals are most plen- 
 tiful in Africa, it is only in Asia that the great- 
 est elephants are found, and rendered sub- 
 servient to human command. In Africa, the 
 largest do not exceed ten feet high ; in Asia 
 they are found from ten to fifteen. Their 
 price increases in proportion to their size; 
 and when they exceed a certain bulk, like 
 jewels, their value then rises as the fancy is 
 pleased to estimate. 
 
 The largest are entirely kept for the ser- 
 vice of princes ; and are maintained with the 
 utmost magnificence, and at the greatest ex- 
 pense. The usual colour of the elephant, 
 is a dusky black, but some are said to be 
 white; and the price of one of these is ines- 
 timable. Such a one is peculiarly appro- 
 priated for the monarch's own riding; he is 
 kept in a palace, attended by the nobles, and 
 almost adored by the people." Some have 
 said that these white elephants are larger 
 f than the rest ; b others assert that they are 
 less; and still others entirely doubt their ex- 
 istence. 
 
 As the art of war is but very little improv- 
 ed in Asia, there are few princes of the East 
 who do not procure and maintain as many 
 
 a P. Vincent Marie. > P. Tachard. 
 
 c Multis persuasinn est elephantem non brutorum sed 
 liorninum more coire. Quod retro mingit non dubitatur. 
 
 elephants as they are able, and place great 
 confidence on their assistance in an engage- 
 ment. For this purpose they are obliged to 
 take them wild in their native forests, and 
 tame them; for the elephant never breeds 
 in a state of servitude. It is one of the most 
 striking peculiarities in this extraordinary 
 creature, that his generative powers totally 
 fail when he comes under the dominion of 
 man; as if he seemed unwilling to propagate 
 a race of slaves, to increase the pride of his 
 conqueror. There is, perhaps, no other quad- 
 ruped that will not breed in its own native 
 climate, if indulged with a moderate share of 
 freedom; and we know that many of them 
 will copulate in every climate. The elephant 
 alone has never been seen to breed ; and 
 though he has been reduced under the obe- 
 dience of man for ages, the duration of preg- 
 nancy in the female still remains a secret. 
 Aristotle, indeed, asserts, that she goes two 
 years with young; that she continues to 
 suckle her young for three years, and that 
 she brings forth but one at a time: but he 
 does not inform us of the manner in which it 
 was possible for him to have his information. 
 From authorities equally doubtful, we learn, 
 that the little one is about as large as a wild 
 boar the instant it is brought forth ; that its 
 tusks do not yet appear; but that all the rest 
 of its teeth are apparent ; that at the age of 
 six months, it is as large as an ox, and its 
 tusks pretty well grown ; and that it conti- 
 nues, in this manner, for near ihirty years, ad- 
 vancing to maturity. All this is doubtful; 
 but it is certain that, in order to recruit the 
 numbers which are consumed in war, the 
 princes of the East are every year obliged to 
 send into the forests, and to use various me- 
 thods to procure a fresh supply. Of all these 
 numerous bands, there is not one that has 
 not been originally wild ; nor one that has 
 not been forced into a state of subjection. 
 Men themselves are often content to propa- 
 gate a race of slaves, that pass down in this 
 wretched state through successive genera- 
 tions: but the elephant, under subjection, is 
 unalterably barren ; perhaps from some phy- 
 sical causes, which are as yet unknown. 
 
 Sed ipse vidi marein hujusce speciei,in nostri regis stabulis, 
 super fa'tnellam itidem inclusam quadruqednm more sili- 
 entem, pene pauiulum incurvato sed sufficienter recto 
 3R* 
 
422 
 
 THE ELEPHANT. 
 
 The Indian princes having vainly endea- 
 voured to multiply the breed of elephants, 
 like that of other animals, have been at last 
 content to separate the males from the fe- 
 males, to prevent those accesses of desire, 
 which debilitated without multiplying the 
 species. In order to take them wild in the 
 woods, a spot of ground is fixed upon, which 
 is surrounded with a strong palisade. This 
 is made of the thickest and the strongest 
 trees; and strengthened by cross bars which 
 give firmness to the whole. The posts are 
 fixed at such distances from each other, that 
 a man can easily pass between them; there 
 being only one great passage left open, 
 through which an elephant can easily come; 
 and which is so contrived as to shut behind, as 
 soon as the beast is entered. To draw him 
 into this enclosure, it is necessary first to find 
 him out in the woods; and a female elephant 
 is conducted along into the heart of the forest, 
 where it is obliged by its keeper to cry out 
 for the male. The male very readily answers 
 the cry, and hastens to join her ; which the' 
 keeper perceiving, obliges her to retreat, 
 still repeating the same cry, until she leads 
 the animal into the enclosure already describ- 
 ed, which shuts the moment he is entered. 
 Still, however, the female proceeds calling 
 and inviting, while the male proceeds forward 
 in the enclosure, which grows narrower all 
 the way, and until the poor animal finds him- 
 self completely shut up, without the power 
 of either advancing or retreating; the female 
 in the mean time being let out by a private 
 way, which she has been previously accus- 
 tomed to. The wild elephant, upon seeing 
 himself entrapped in this manner, instantly 
 attempts to use violence ; and, upon seeing 
 the hunters, all his former desires only turn 
 to fury. In the mean time, the hunters, hav- 
 ing fixed him with cords, attempt to soften his 
 indignation, by throwing buckets of water 
 upon him in great quantities, rubbing the 
 body with leaves, and pouring oil down his 
 ears. Soon after, two tame elephants are 
 brought, a male and a female, that caress the 
 indignant animal with their trunks; while 
 they still continue pouring water to refresh it. 
 At last a tame elephant is brought forward, 
 of that number which is employed in instruct- 
 ing the new-comers, and an officer riding 
 
 upon it, in order to show the late captive that 
 it has nothing to lear. The hunters then 
 open the enclosure ; and while this creature 
 leads the captive along, two more are joined 
 on either side of it, and these compel it to 
 submit. It is then tied by cords to a massy 
 pillar, provided for that purpose, and suffer- 
 ed to remain in that position for about a day 
 and a night, until its indignation be wholly 
 subsided. The next day it begins to be some- 
 what submissive; and in a fortnight is com- 
 pletely tamed like the rest. The females are 
 taken when accompanying the males ; they 
 often come into these enclosures, and they 
 shortly after serve as decoys to the rest. 
 But the method of taking the elephant differs, 
 according to the abilities of the hunter: the 
 negroes of Africa, who hunt this animal mere- 
 ly for its flesh, are content to take it i:i pit- 
 falls; and often to pursue it in the defiles of 
 a mountain, where it cannot easily turn, and 
 so wound it from behind till it falls. 
 
 The elephant, when once tamed, becomes 
 the most gentle and obedient of all animals. 
 It soon conceives an attachment lor the person 
 that attends it, caresses him, obeys him, and 
 seems to anticipate his desires. In a short 
 time it begins to comprehend several of the 
 signs made to it, and even the different sounds 
 of the voice; it perfectly distinguishes the 
 tone of command from that of anger or ap- 
 probation, and acts accordingly. It is seldom 
 deceived in its master's voice ; it receives his 
 orders with attention, and executes them 
 with prudence, eagerly, yet without precipi- 
 tation. All its motions are regulated, and its 
 actions seem to partake of its magnitude; 
 being grave,majestic,and secure. It is quickly 
 taught to kneel down, to receive its rider; it 
 caresses those it knows with its trunk; with 
 this.salutes such as it is ordered to distinguish, 
 and with this, as with a hand, helps to take 
 up a part of its load. It suffers itself to be 
 arrayed in harness, and seems to take a plea- 
 sure in the finery of its trappings. It draws 
 either chariots, cannon, or shipping, with 
 surprising strength and perseverance; and 
 this with a seeming satisfaction, provided that 
 it be not beaten without a cause, and that its 
 master appears pleased with its exertions. 
 
 The elephant's conductor is usually mount- 
 ed upon its neck, and makes use of a rod of 
 
THE ELEPHANT. 
 
 423 
 
 iron to guide it, wkich is sometimes pointed, 
 and at others bent into a hook. With this 
 the animal is spurred forward, when dull or 
 disobedient ; but, in general, a word is suffi- 
 cient to put the gentle creature into motion, 
 especially when it is acquainted with its con- 
 ductor. This acquaintance is often perfectly 
 necessary ; for the elephant frequently takes 
 such an affection to its keeper, that it will 
 obey no other: and it has been known to die 
 for grief, when, in some sudden fit of madness, 
 it has killed its conductor. We are told, that 
 one of these, that was used by the French 
 forces in India for the drawing their cannon, 
 was promised, by the conductor, a reward 
 for having performed some painful service; 
 but being disappointed of its expectations, it 
 slew him in a fury. The conductor's wife, 
 who was a spectator of this shocking scene, 
 could not restrain her madness and despair; 
 but running with her two children in her 
 arms, threw them at the elephant's feet, cry- 
 ing out, that since it had killed her husband, 
 it might kill her and her children also. The 
 elephant, seeing the children at its feet, in- 
 stantly stopped, arid moderating its fury, took 
 up the eldest w ith its trunk, and placing him 
 upon its neck, adopted him for its conductor, 
 and obeyed him ever after with great punc- 
 tuality. 
 
 But it is not for drawing burdens alone, 
 that the elephants are serviceable in war ; 
 they are often brought into the ranks, and 
 compelled to fight in the most dangerous parts 
 of the field of battle. There was a time, in- 
 deed, in India, when they were much more 
 used in war than at present. A century or 
 two ago, a great part of the dependence of 
 the general was upon the number and the 
 expertness of his elephants; but of late, since 
 war has been contented to adopt fatal instead 
 of formidable arts, the elephant is little used, 
 except for drawing cannon, or transporting 
 provisions. The princes of the country are 
 pleased to keep a few for ornament, or for 
 thr> purposes of removing their seraglios : 
 but they are seldom led into a field of battle, 
 where they are unable to withstand the dis- 
 charge of fire-arms, and have often been 
 found to turn upon their employers. Still, 
 however, they are used in war, in the more 
 remote parts of the East; in Siam, in Cochin 
 
 China, in Tonquin, and Pegu. In all these 
 places, they not only serve to swell the pomp 
 of state, being adorned with all the barbarian 
 splendour that those countries can bestow, 
 but they are actually led into the field of bat- 
 tle, armed before with coats of mail, and 
 loaded on the back each with a square tower, 
 containing from five combatants to seven. 
 Upon its neck sits the conductor, who goads 
 the animal into the thickest ranks, and en- 
 courages it to increase the devastation; 
 wherever it goes, nothing can withstand its 
 fury; it levels the ranks with its immense 
 bulk, flings such as oppose it into the air, or 
 crushes them to death under its feet. In the 
 mean time, those who are placed upon its 
 back, combat as from an eminence, and fling 
 down their weapons with double force, their 
 weight being added to their velocity. No- 
 thing, therefore, can be more dreadful, or more 
 irresistible, than such a moving machine, to 
 men unacquainted with the modern arts of 
 war; the elephant thus armed and conduct- 
 ed, raging in the midst of the field of battle, 
 inspires more terror than even those machines 
 that destroy at a distance, and are often most 
 fatal when most unseen. But this method of 
 combating,is rather formidable that effectual; 
 polished nations have ever been victorious 
 over those semi-barbarous troops that have 
 called in the elephant to their assistance, or 
 attempted to gain a victory by merely aston- 
 ishing their opposers. The Romans quickly 
 learned the art of opening their ranks to ad- 
 mit the elephant, and thus separating it from 
 assistance, quickly compelled its conductors 
 to calm the animal's fury, and to submit. It 
 sometimes also happened that the elephant 
 became impatient of control; and, instead of 
 obeying its conductor, turned upon those for- 
 ces it was employed to assist. In either case, 
 there was a great deal of preparation to very 
 little effect, for a single elephant is known to 
 consume as much as forty men in a day. 
 
 At present, therefore, they are chiefly em- 
 ployed in carrying, or drawing burdens, 
 throughout the whole Peninsula of India; 
 and no animal can be more fitted by nature 
 for this employment. The strength of an ele- 
 phant is equal to its bulk, for it can, with 
 great ease, draw a load that six horses could 
 not remove ; it can readily carry upon its 
 
421 
 
 THE ELEPHANT 
 
 back three or four thousand weight ; upon its 
 tusks alone it can support near a thousand : 
 its force may also be estimated from the velo- 
 city of its motion, compared to the mass of its 
 body. It can go, in its ordinary pace, as fast 
 as a horse at an easy trot ; and, when pushed, 
 it can move as swiftly as a horse at full gallop. 
 It can travel with ease fifty or sixty miles a 
 day ; and, when hard pressed, almost double 
 that distance. It may be heard trotting on at 
 a great distance ; it is easy also to follow it by 
 the track, which is deeply impressed on the 
 ground, and from fifteen to eighteen inches in 
 diameter. 
 
 In India they are also put to other very dis- 
 agreeable offices ; for in some courts of the 
 more barbarous princes, they are used as exe- 
 cutioners : and this horrid task they perform 
 with great dexterity : with their trunks they 
 are seen to break every limb of the criminal 
 at the word of command ; they sometimes 
 trample him to death, and sometimes impale 
 him on their enormous tusks, as directed. In 
 this the elephant is rather the servant of a cruel 
 master than a voluntary tyrant, since no other 
 animal of the forest is so naturally benevolent 
 and gentle ; equally mindful of benefits as 
 sensible of neglect, he contracts a friendship 
 for his keeper, and obeys him even beyond his 
 capacity. 
 
 In India, where they were at one time em- 
 ployed in launching ships, a particular elephant 
 was directed to force a very large vessel into 
 the water : the work proved superior to its 
 strength, but not to its endeavours ; which, 
 however, the keeper affected to despise. 
 " Take away," says he, " that lazy beast, arid 
 bring another better fitted for service." The 
 poor animal instantly upon this redoubled its 
 efforts, fractured its skull, and died upon the 
 spot. 
 
 In Delhi, an elephant, passing along the 
 streets, put his trunk into a tailor's shop, where 
 several people were at work. One of the per- 
 sons of the shop, desirous of some amusement, 
 pricked the animal's trunk with his needle, 
 and seemed highly delighted with this slight 
 punishment. The elephant, however, passed 
 on without any immediate signs of resentment; 
 but corning to a puddle filled with dirty water, 
 he filled his trunk, returned to the shop, and 
 spurted the contents over all the finery upon 
 which the tailors were then employed. 
 
 An elephant in Adsmeer, which often pnssed 
 through the bazar or market, as he went by a 
 certain herb- woman, always received from her 
 a mouthful of greens. Being one day seized 
 with a periodical fit of madness, he broke his 
 fetters, and running through the niarkt t, put 
 the crowd to flight, and among others, this 
 woman, w ho in her haste forgot a little child 
 at her stall. The elephant recollecting the 
 spot where its benefactress was accustomed 
 to sit, took up the infant gently in its trunk, 
 and conveyed it to a place of safety. 
 
 At the Cape of Good Hope it is customary 
 to hunt those animals for the sake of their 
 teeth. Three horsemen, well mounted, and 
 armed with lances, attack the elephant alter- 
 nately, each relieving the other, as they see 
 their companion pressed, till the boast is sub- 
 dued. Three Dutchmen, brothers, who had 
 made large fortunes by this business, deter- 
 mined to retire to Europe, and enjoy the fruits 
 of their labours ; but they resolved, one day 
 before they went, to have a last chase, by way 
 of amusement : they met with tlu-ir game, and 
 began their attack in the usual manner : but, 
 unfortunately, one of their horses falling, hap- 
 pened to fling his rider ; the enraged elephant 
 instantly seized the unhappy huntsman with 
 his trunk, flung him up to a vast height in the 
 air, and received him upon one of his tusks, 
 as he fell ; and then turning towards the other 
 two brothers, as if it were with an aspect of 
 revenge and insult, held out to them the im- 
 paled wretch, writhing in the agonies of 
 death. 
 
 The teeth of the elephant are what produce 
 the great enmity between him and mankind ; 
 but whether they arc shed like the horns of 
 the deer, or whether the animal be killed to 
 obtain them, is not yet perfectly known. All 
 we have as yet certain is, that the natives of 
 Africa, from whence almost all our ivory 
 comes, assure us, that thry find the greatest 
 part of it in their forests ; nor would, say they, 
 the teeth of an elephant recompense them for 
 their trouble and danger in killing it : not- 
 withstanding, the elephants which are tamed 
 by man, are never known to shed their tusks; 
 and from the hardness of their substance, they 
 seem no way analogous to deers' horns. 
 
 The teeth of the elephant are very often 
 found in a fossil state. Some years ago, two 
 great grinding teeth, and part of the tusk of 
 

 THE RHINOCEROS. 
 
 425 
 
 an elephant, were discovered at the depth 
 of forty-two yards in a lead-mine in Flint- 
 shire." 
 
 The tusks of the Mammoth, so often found 
 fossil in Siberia, and which are converted to 
 the purposes of ivory, are generally supposed 
 to belong to the elephant : however, the ani- 
 mal must have been much larger in that coun- 
 try than it is found at present, as those tusks 
 are often known to weigh four hundred pounds; 
 while those that come from Africa seldom ex- 
 ceed two hundred and fifty. These enormous 
 tusks are found lodged in the sandy banks of 
 the Siberian rivers ; and the natives pretend 
 that they belong to an animal which is four 
 times as large as the elephant. 
 
 There have lately been discovered several 
 enormous skeletons, five or six feet beneath the 
 surface, on the banks of the Ohio, not remote 
 from the river Miume, in America, seven hun- 
 dred miles from the-sea coast. Some of the 
 tusks are near seven feet long ; one foot nine 
 inches in circumference at the base, and one 
 foot near the point ; the cavity at the root or 
 base, nineteen inches deep. Besides their 
 size, there are yet other differences : the tusks 
 of the true elephant have sometimes a very 
 
 slight lateral bend ; these have a larger twist, 
 or spiral curve, towards the smaller end : but 
 the great and specific difference consists in the 
 shape of the grinding teeth ; which, in these 
 newly found, are fashioned like the teeth of a 
 carnivorous animal ; not flat and ribbed trans- 
 versely on their surface, like those of the 
 modern elephant, but furnished with a double 
 row of high and conic processes, as if intended 
 to masticate, not to grind their food. A third 
 difference is in the thigh-bone, which is of a 
 great disproportionable thickness to that of 
 the elephant ; and has also some other anato- 
 mical variations. These fossil bones have 
 been also found in Peru and the Brazils ; and, 
 when cut and polished by the workers in ivory, 
 appear, in every respect, similar. It is the 
 opinion of Dr. Hunter, that they must have 
 belonged to a larger animal than the elephant ; 
 and differing from it, in being carnivorous. 
 But as yet this formidable creature has evaded 
 our search ; and, if indeed, such an animal 
 exists, it is happy for man that it keeps at a dis- 
 tance; since what ravage might not be expect- 
 ed from a creature, endued with more than the 
 strength of the elephant, and all the rapacity 
 of the tiger ! 
 
 CHAPTER LX. 
 
 OF THE RHINOCEROS. 
 
 NEXT to the elephant, the Rhinoceros is 
 the most powerful of animals. It is usually 
 found twelve feet long, from the tip of the nose 
 to the insertion of the tail ; from six to seven 
 feet high ; and the circumference of its body 
 is nearly equal to its length. It is, therefore, 
 equal to the elephant in bulk : and if it ap- 
 pears much smaller to the eye, the reason is, 
 that its legs are much shorter. Words can 
 convey but a very confused idea of this ani- 
 mal's slmpe ; and yet there are few so re- 
 markably formed : its head is furnished with 
 a horn, growing from the snout, sometimes 
 three feet and a half long ; and but for this, 
 that part would have the appearance of the 
 
 Pennant's Synopsis, p. 90. 
 
 head of a hog ; the upper lip, however, is 
 much longer in proportion, ends in a point, is 
 very pliable, serves to collect its food, and de- 
 liver it into the mouth : the ears are large, 
 erect, and pointed ; the eyes are small and 
 piercing ; the skin is naked, rough, knotty, 
 and lying upon the body in folds, after a very 
 peculiar fashion : there are two folds very re- 
 markable ; one above the shoulders, and 
 another over the rump : the skin, which is of 
 a dirty brown colour, is so thick as to turn the 
 edge of a scimitar, and to resist a musket-ball; 
 the belly hangs low ; the legs are short, strong, 
 and thirk, and the hoofs divided into three 
 parts, each pointing forward. 
 
 Such is the general outline of an animal 
 that t.ppears chiefly formidable from the horn 
 
426 
 
 THE RHINOCEROS. 
 
 trowing from its snout ; and formed rather 
 jr war, than with a propensity to engage. 
 This horn is sometimes found from three to 
 three feet and a half long, growing from the 
 solid bone, and so disposed as to be managed 
 to the greatest advantage. It is composed of 
 the most solid substance ; and pointed so as to 
 inflict the most fatal wounds. The elephant, 
 the boar, or the buffalo, are obliged to strike 
 transversely with their weapons ; but the rhi- 
 noceros employs all his force with every blow ; 
 so that the tiger will more willingly attack any 
 other animal of the forest, than one whose 
 strength is so justly employed. Indeed, there 
 is no force which this terrible animal has to 
 apprehend : defended, on every side, by a 
 thick horny hide, which the claws of the lion 
 or the tiger are unable to pierce, and armed 
 before with a weapon that even the elephant 
 does not choose to oppose. The missionaries 
 assure us, that the elephant is often found dead 
 in the forests, pierced with the horn of a rhi- 
 noceros ; and though it looks like wisdom to 
 doubt whatever they tell us, yet I cannot help 
 giving credit to what they relate on this occa- 
 sion, particularly when confirmed by Pliny. 
 The combat between these two, the most for- 
 midable animals of the forest, must be very 
 dreadful. Emanuel, king of Portugal, willing 
 to try their strength, actually opposed them to 
 each other ; and the elephant was defeated. 
 
 But though the rhinoceros is thus formidable 
 by nature, yet imagination has not failed to 
 exert itself, in adding to its terrors. The scent 
 is said to be most exquisite ; and it is af- 
 firmed that it consorts with the tiger. It is 
 reported also, that when it has overturned a 
 man, or any other animal, it continues to lick 
 the flesh quite from the bone with its tongue, 
 which is said to be extremely rough. All this, 
 however, is fabulous : the scent, if we may 
 judge from the expansion of the olfactory 
 nerves, is not greater than that of a hog, which 
 we know to be indifferent ; it keeps company 
 with the tiger, only because they both frequent 
 watery places in the burning climates where 
 they are bred ; and as to its rough tongue, 
 that is so far from the truth, that no animal of 
 near its size has so soft a one. " I have often 
 felt it myself," says Ladvocat, in his descrip- 
 tion of this animal ; " it is smooth, soft, and 
 small, like that of a dog ; and to the feel it 
 appears as if one passed the hand over velvet ; 
 
 I have often seen it lick a young man's face 
 who kept it, and both seemed pleased with 
 the action." 
 
 The rhinoceros which was shown at Lon- 
 don in 1739, and described by Dr. Parsons, 
 had been sent from Bengal. Though it was 
 very young, not being above two years old, 
 yet the charge of his carriage and food from 
 India cost near a thousand pounds. It was 
 fed with rice, sugar, and hay : it was daily 
 supplied with seven pounds of rice, mixed with 
 three of sugar, divided into three portions ; it 
 was given great quantities of hay and grass, 
 which it chiefly preferred; its drink was water, 
 which it took in great quantities. It was of a 
 gentle disposition, and permitted itself to be 
 touched and handled by all visiters, never at- 
 tempting mischief, except when abused, or 
 when hungry ; in such a case, there was no 
 method of appeasing its fury, but by giving it 
 something to eat. When angry, it would 
 jump up against the walls of its room with 
 greav violence, and made many efforts to es- 
 cape, but seldom attempted to attack its keep- 
 er, and was always submissive to his threats. 
 It had a peculiar cry, somewhat a mixture be- 
 tween the grunting of a hog and the bellowing 
 of a calf. 
 
 The age of these animals is not well known ; 
 it is said by some, that they bring forth at three 
 years old, and if we may reason from analogy, 
 it is probable they seldom live till above 
 twenty. That which was shown in London, 
 was said by its keeper to be eighteen years 
 old, and even at that age he pretended to con- 
 sider it as a young one ; however, it died 
 shortly after, and that probably in the course 
 of nature. 
 
 The rhinoceros is a native of the deserts of 
 Asia and Africa, and is usually found in those 
 extensive forests that are frequented by the 
 elephant and the lion. As it subsists entirely 
 upon vegetable food, it is peaceful and harm- 
 less among its fellows of the brute creation ; 
 but, though it never provokes to combat, it 
 equally disdains to fly. It is every way fitted 
 for war, but rests content in the conciousness 
 of its security. It is particularly fond of the 
 prickly branches of trees, and is seen to feed 
 upon such thorny shrubs as would be danger- 
 ous to other animals, either to gather or to 
 swallow. The prickly points of these, how- 
 ever, may only serve to give a poignant relish 
 

 
 I . Hi|ijo|Muamus .\Mi|)lnl>m- . lli|.|>.'|,i.i .mm- .! l,i|ii Americana. Tajir 
 
THE HIPPOPOTAMUS. 
 
 427 
 
 this animal's palate, and may answer the same 
 grateful ends in seasoning its banquet that 
 spices do in heightening ours. 
 
 In some parts of the kingdom of Asia, where 
 the natives are more desirous of appearing 
 warlike than showing themselves brave, these 
 animals are tamed, and led into the field to 
 strike terror into the enemy; but they are 
 always an unmanageable and restive animal, 
 and probably more dangerous to the employ- 
 ers than those whom they are brought to op- 
 pose. 
 
 The method of taking them, is chiefly watch- 
 ing them, till they are found either in some 
 moist or marshy place, where, like hogs, they 
 are fond of sleeping and wallowing. They 
 then destroy the old one with fire arms; for 
 no weapons that are thrown by the force of 
 man are capable of entering this animal's 
 hide. If, when the old one is destroyed, there 
 happens to be a cub, they seize and tame it: 
 
 these animals are sometimes taken in pit-falls, 
 covered with green branches, laid in those 
 paths which the rhinoceros makes in going 
 from the forest to the river side. 
 
 There are some varieties in this animal, as 
 in most others; some of them are Ibund in 
 Africa with a double horn, one growing above 
 the other. This weapon, if considered in it- 
 self, is one of the strongest and most danger- 
 ous that nature furnishes to any p;;rt of the 
 animal creation. The horn is entirely solid, 
 formed of the hardest bony substance, grow- 
 ing from the upper maxillary bone, by so 
 strong an apophyse, as seemingly to make but 
 one part with it. Many are the medicinal 
 virtues that are ascribed to this horn, when 
 taken in powder; but these qualities have 
 been attributed to it without any real founda- 
 tion, and make only a small part of the many 
 fables which this extraordinary animal has 
 given rise to. 
 
 CHAPTER LXI. 
 
 THE HIPPOPOTAMUS. 
 
 THE hippopotamus is an animal as large, 
 and not less formidable, than the rhinoceros ; 
 its legs are shorter, and its head rather more 
 bulky than that of the animal last described. 
 We have had but few opportunities in Europe 
 of examining this formidable creature minute- 
 ly ; its dimensions, however, have been pretty 
 well ascertained, by a description given us 
 by Zerenghi. an Italian surgeon, who procur- 
 ed one of them to be killed on the banks of 
 the river Nile. By his account it appears, 
 that this terrible animal, which chiefly resides 
 in the wp^ters of that river, is above seventeen 
 feet long, from the extremity of the snout to 
 the insertion of the tail ; above sixteen feet 
 in circumference round the body, and above 
 seven feet high : the head is near four feet 
 long, and above nine feet in circumference. 
 The jaws open about two feet wide, and the 
 cutting-teeth, of which it hath four in each 
 jaw, are above a foot long. 
 
 Its feet in some measure resemble those of 
 the elephant, and are divided into four parts. 
 The tail is short, flat, and pointed ; the hide 
 
 " No. 37 & 38. 
 
 is amazingly thick, and though not capable 
 of turning a musket ball, is impenetrable to 
 the blow of a sabre; the body is covered 
 over with a few scattered hairs of a whitish 
 colour. The whole figure of the animal is 
 something between that of an ox and a ho**, 
 and its cry is something between the bellow- 
 ing of the one and the grunting of the 
 other. 
 
 This animal, however, though so terribly 
 furnished for war, seems no way disposed to 
 make use of its prodigious strength against 
 an equal enemy ; it chiefly resides at the bot- 
 tom of the great rivers and lakes of Africa, 
 the Nile, the Niger, and the Zara; there it 
 leads an indolent kind of life, and seems sel- 
 dom disposed for action, except when excited 
 by the calls of hunger. Upon such occasions, 
 three or four of them are often seen at the 
 bottom of a river, near some cataract, form- 
 ing a kind of line, and seizing upon such fish 
 as are forced down by the violence of the 
 stream. In that element they pursue their 
 prey with great swiftness and perseverance ; 
 35 
 
428 
 
 THE HIPPOPOTAMUS. 
 
 they swim with much force, and remain at 
 the bottom for thirty or forty minutes, with- 
 out rising to take breath. Tiiey traverse the 
 bottom of the stream, as if walking upon laud, 
 and make a terrible devastation where they 
 find plenty of prey. But it often happens, 
 that this animal's fishy Ibod is not supplied in 
 sufficient abundance; it is then forced to 
 come upon land, where it is an awkward and 
 unwieldy stranger ; it moves but slowly, and 
 as it seldom forsakes the margin of the river, 
 it sinks at every step it takes ; sometimes, 
 however, it is forced by famine up into the 
 higher grounds, where it commits dreadful 
 havoc among the plantations of the helpless 
 natives, who see their possessions destroyed, 
 without daring to resist their invader. Their 
 chief method is by lighting fires, striking 
 drums, and raising a cry to frighten it back 
 to its favourite element; and as it is extreme- 
 ly timorous upon land, they generally succeed 
 in their endeavours. But if they happen to 
 wound, or otherwise irritate it too closely, it 
 then becomes formidable to all that oppose 
 it: it overturns whatever it meets, and brings 
 forth all its strength, which it seemed not to 
 have discovered before that dangerous occa- 
 sion. It possesses the same inoffensive dis- 
 position in its favourite element, that it is 
 Found to have upon land ; it is never found to 
 attack the mariners in their boats as they go 
 up or down the stream ; but should they 
 inadvertently strike against it, or otherwise 
 disturb its repose, there is much danger of 
 its sending them at once to the bottom. " I 
 have seen," says a mariner, as we find it in 
 Dampier, " one of these animals open its jaw, 
 and seizing a boat between its teeth, at once 
 bite and sink it to the bottom. I have seen 
 it, upon another occasion, place itself under 
 one of our boats, and, rising under it, overset 
 it, with six men who were in it; who, how- 
 ever, happily received no other injury." 
 Such is the great strength of this animal ; and 
 from hence, probably, the imagination has 
 been willing to match it in combat against 
 others more fierce, and equally formidable. 
 The crocodile and shark have been said to 
 engage with it, and yield an easy victory; 
 but as the shark is only found at sea, and the 
 hippopotamus never ventures beyond the 
 mouth of fresh-water rivers, it is most proba- 
 
 ble that these engagements never occurred ; 
 it sometimes happens, indeed, that Ihe prin- 
 ces of Africa amuse themselves with combats, 
 on their frpsh-water lakes, between this and 
 other formidable animals; but whether the 
 rhinoceros or the crocodile are of this num- 
 ber, we have not been particularly informed. 
 If this animal be attacked on land, and find- 
 ing itself incapable of vengeance from the 
 swiftness of its enemy, it immediately returns 
 to the river, where it plunges in head fore- 
 most, and after a short time rises to the sur- 
 face, loudly bellowing, either to invite or in- 
 timidate the enemy; but though the negroes 
 will venture to attack the shark or the croco- 
 dile in their natural element, and there de- 
 stroy them, they are too well apprised of the 
 force of the hippopotamus to engage it; this 
 animal, therefore, continues the uncontrolled 
 master of the river, and all others lly from its 
 approach, or become an easy prey. 
 
 As the hippopotamus lives upon fish and 
 vegetables, so it is probable the flesh of ter- 
 restrial animals may be equally grateful : the 
 natives of Africa assert, that it has often been 
 found to devour children and other creatures 
 that it was able to surprise upon land ; yet 
 as it moves but slowly, almost every creature, 
 endued with a common share of swiftness, is 
 able to escape it; and this animal, therefore, 
 seldom ventures from the river side, but when 
 pressed by the necessities of hunger, or of 
 bringing forth its young. 
 
 Thefemalealvvays comesupon land to bring 
 forth, and it is supposed that she seldom pro- 
 duces above one at a time. Upon this occa- 
 sion, these animals are particularly timorous, 
 and dread the approach of a terrestrial enemy; 
 the instant the parent hears the slightest 
 noise, it dashes into the stream, and the young 
 one is seen to follow it with equal alacrity. 
 
 The young ones are said to be excellent 
 eating; but the negroes, to whom nothing 
 that has life comes amiss, find an equal 
 delicacy in the old. Dr. Pococke has seen 
 their flesh sold in the shambles, like beef; 
 and it is said, that their breast, in particular, 
 is as delicate eating as veal. As for the rest, 
 these animals are found in great numbers, 
 and as they produce very fast, -their flesh 
 might supply the countries where they are 
 found, could those barbarous regions produce 
 
II,., r, 2.1' 
 
 s Si;,.;-ll;,rt ,,rl,V,1 I >.! :i.C. Axis S(x)ttpdAjbs _ 4,Ci,.,-l,.|.,,r,l. l lis 
 .V.-.i );!< l-uhli.'l,r,l /-! r.Xamtmin 
 
THE CAMELOPARD. 
 
 429 
 
 more expert huntsmen. It may be remarked, 
 however, that this creature, which was once 
 in such plenty at the mouth of the Nile, is 
 
 now wholly unknown in Lower Egypt, and is 
 no where to be found in that river, except 
 above the cataracts. 
 
 CHAPTER LXII. 
 
 THE CAMELOPARD. 
 
 WERE we to be told of an animal so tall, 
 that a man on horseback could, with ease, 
 ride under its belly, without stooping, we 
 should hardly give credit to the relation; 
 yet of this extraordinary size is the camelo- 
 pard, an animal that inhabits the deserts of 
 Africa, and the accounts of which are so well 
 ascertained, that we cannot deny our assent 
 to their authority. It is no easy matter to 
 form an adequate idea of this creature's size, 
 and the oddity of its formation. It exhibits 
 somewhat the slender shape of the deer, or 
 the camel, but destitute of their symmetry, or 
 their easy power of motion. The head some- 
 what resembles that of the deer, with two 
 round horns, near a foot long, and which, it is 
 probable, it sheds as deer are found to do ; 
 its neck resembles that of a horse ; its legs 
 arid feet those of the deer, but with this ex- 
 traordinary difference, that the fore legs are 
 near twice as long as the hinder. As these 
 creatures have been found eighteen feet high, 
 and ten from the ground to the top of the 
 shoulder, so allowing three feet for the depth 
 of the body, seven feet remains, which is high 
 enough to admit a man mounted on a middle- 
 sized horse. The hinder part, however, is 
 much lower, so that when the animal appears 
 standing, and at rest, it has somewhat the ap- 
 pearance of a dog sitting: and this formation 
 of its legs gives it an awkward and a labori- 
 ous motion, which, though swift, must yet be 
 tiresome. For this reason, the camelopanl 
 is an animal very rarely found, and only finds 
 refuge in the most internal desert regions of 
 Africa. The dimensions of a young one, as 
 
 Later naturalists say, that this is a mistake, and assert, 
 that as the neck is !:;> .. .r,'l ek-sjaru and exceeds the legs 
 by at least four inches, besides the length of the head, it is 
 
 they were accurately taken by a person who 
 examined its skin, that was brought from the 
 Cape of Good Hope, were found to be as fol- 
 low: the length of the head was one foot eight 
 inches ; the height of the fore leg, from the 
 
 t round to the top of the shoulder, was ten 
 ;et ; from the shoulder to the top of the head 
 was seven ; the height of the hind leg was 
 eigMt feet five inches ; and from the top of the 
 shoulder to the insertion of the tail was just 
 seven feet long. 
 
 No animal, either from its disposition, or its 
 formation, seems less fitted for a state of na- 
 tural hostility ; its horns are blunt, and even 
 knobbed at the ends ; its teeth are made en- 
 tirely for vegetable pasture ; its skin is beau- 
 tifully speckled with brown spots, upon a 
 whitish ground; it is timorous and harmless, 
 and, notwithstanding it? great size, rather 
 flies from, than resists, the slightest enemy ; 
 it partakes very much of the nature of the 
 camel, which it so nearly resembles ; it lives 
 entirely upon vegetables, and when grazing 
 is obliged to spread its fore legs very wide 
 in order to reach its pasture ; a its motion is a 
 kind of pace, two legs on each side moving 
 at the same time, whereas in other animals 
 they move transversely. It often lies down 
 with its belly to the earth, and, like the camel, 
 has a callous substance upon its breast, which, 
 when reposed, defends it from injury. This 
 animal was known to the ancients, but has 
 been very rarely seen in Europe. One of 
 them was sent from the east to the Emperor 
 of Germany, in the year 1559; but they have 
 often been seen tame at Grand Cairo in 
 
 evident that it can graze without difficulty, and is not 
 obliged to kneel down, (as has been supposed) or spread 
 asunder its legs, for that purpose. 
 3S* 
 
430 
 
 THE CAMEL AND DROMEDARY. 
 
 Egypt ; and, I am told, there are two there 
 at present. When ancient Rome was in its 
 splendour, Pompey exhibited at one time no 
 less than ten upon the theatre. It was the 
 barbarous pleasure of the people, at that 
 time, to see the most terrible, and the most 
 
 extraordinary animals, produced in com- 
 bat against each other. The lion, the 
 lynx, the tiger, the elephant, the hippopota- 
 mus, were all let loose promiscuously, and 
 were seen to inflict indiscriminate destruc- 
 tion. 
 
 CHAPTER LXIII. 
 
 THE CAMEL AND THE DROMEDARY/ 
 
 THESE names do not make two distinct 
 kinds, but are only given to a variety of the 
 same animal, which has, however, subsisled 
 time immemorial. The principal, and per- 
 haps the only sensible difference, by which 
 those two races are distinguished, consists in 
 this, that the camel has two bunches upon 
 his back, whereas the dromedary has but 
 one ; the latter, also, is neither so large, nor 
 so strong, as the camel. These two races, 
 however, produce with each other, and the 
 mixed breed formed between them is con- 
 sidered the best, the most patient, and the 
 most indefatigable of all the kind. 
 
 Of the two varieties, the dromedary is by 
 far the most numerous, the camel being 
 scarcely found, except in Turkey, and the 
 countries of the Levant; while the other is 
 found spread over all the deserts of Arabia, 
 the southern parts of Africa, Persia, Tartary, 
 and a great part of the eastern Indies. Thus, 
 the one inhabits an immense tract of country, 
 the other, in comparison, is confined to a 
 province ; the one inhabits the sultry coun- 
 tries of the Torrid Zone, the other delights 
 in a warm, but not a burning climate; neither, 
 however, can subsist, or propagate, in the 
 variable climates towards the north; they 
 seem formed for those countries, where shrubs 
 are plenty, and water scarce ; where they 
 can travel along the sandy desert, without 
 being impeded by rivers, and find food at 
 expected distances; such a country is Arabia, 
 
 "These quadrupeds have six front teeth in the lower 
 jaw, which are rather thin and broad : the canine teeth 
 are a little remote from the rest; in the upper jaw there 
 
 and this, of all others, seems the most adapt- 
 ed to the support and production of this ani- 
 mal. 
 
 The camel is the most temperate of all 
 animals, and it can continue to travel several 
 days without drinking. In those vast deserts, 
 where the earth is every where dry and 
 sandy, where there are neither birds nor 
 beasts, neither insects nor vegetables, where 
 nothing is to be seen but hills of sand and 
 heaps of stone, there the camel travels, post- 
 ing forward, without requiring either drink 
 or pasture, and is often found six or seven 
 days without any sustenance whatsoever. 
 Its feet are formed for travelling upon sand, 
 and utterly unfit for moist or marshy places ; 
 the inhabitants, therefore, find a most useful 
 assistant in this animal, where no other could 
 subsist, and by its means cross those deserts 
 with safety, which would be unpassable by 
 any other method of conveyance. 
 
 An animal, thus formed for a sandy and 
 desert region, cannot be propagated in one 
 of a different nature. Many vain efforts have 
 been tried to propagate the camel in Spain ; 
 they have been transported into America, 
 but have multiplied in neither. It is true, 
 indeed, that they may be brought into these 
 countries, and may, perhaps, be found to pro- 
 duce there ; but the care of keeping them is 
 so great, and the accidents to which they are 
 exposed, from the changeableness of the 
 climate, are so many, that they cannot answer 
 
 are three, in the lower two : the upper lip divided; and 
 there are no horns. 
 

 l.CnmelusDromedarms, Arabian Camel, orDromedaiy. 2 . Caiuelus Bactrianus^acttiaii Camel . 
 
THE CAMEL AND DROMEDARY. 
 
 431 
 
 the care of keeping. In a few years also they 
 are seen to <1 ..generate; thc-ir strength and 
 their patience tbrsake them; and instead of 
 m, iking the riches, they become the burden 
 of their keepers. 
 
 But it is very different in Arabia, and those 
 countries where the camel is turned to 
 useful purposes. It is there considered as a 
 Bacred animal, without whose help the na- 
 tives could neither subsist, traffic, or travel ; 
 its milk makes a part of their nourishment; 
 they feed upon its flesh, particularly when 
 young; they clothe themselves with its hair, 
 which it is seen to moult regularly once a 
 year; and if they fear an invading enemy, 
 their camels serve them in flight, and in a 
 single day they are known to travel above a 
 hundred miles. Thus, by means of the ca- 
 mel, an Arabian finds safety in his deserts; 
 all the armies upon earth might be lost in the 
 pursuit of a flying squadron of this country, 
 mounted upon their camels, and taking re- 
 fuge in solitudes, where nothing interposes 
 to stop their flight, or to force them to wait 
 the invader. Nothing can be more dreary 
 than the aspect of these sandy plains, that seem 
 entirely forsaken of life and vegetation : wher- 
 ever the eye turns, nothing is presented but 
 a steril and dusty soil, sometimes torn up by 
 the winds, and moving in great waves along, 
 which, when viewed from an eminence, re- 
 sembles less the earth than the ocean ; here 
 and there a few shrubs appear, that only 
 teach us to wish for the grove that remind 
 us of the shade in these sultry climates, with- 
 out affording its refreshment: the return of 
 morning, which, in other places, carries an 
 idea of cheerfulness, here serves only to 
 enlighten the endless and dreary waste, and 
 to present the traveller wit 1 an unfinished 
 prospect of his forlorn situation: yet in this 
 chasm of nature, by the help of the camel, 
 the Arabian finds safety and subsistence. 
 There are here and there found spots of ver- 
 dure, which, though remote from each other, 
 are, in a manner, approximated by the labour 
 and industry of the camel. Thus these de- 
 serts, which present the stranger with nothing 
 but objects of danger and sterility, afford the 
 inhabitant protection, food, and liberty. The 
 Arabian lives independent and tranquil in the 
 midst of his solitudes; and, instead of con- 
 
 sidering the vast solitudes spread round him 
 as a restraint upon his happiness, he is, by 
 experience, taught to regard them as the 
 ramparts of his freedom. 
 
 The camel is easily instructed in the me- 
 thods of taking up and supporting his burden; 
 their legs, a few days after they are produced, 
 are bent under their belly; they are in this 
 manner loaded, and (aught to rise; their 
 burden is every day thus increased, by in- 
 sensible degrees, till the animal is capable of 
 supporting a weight adequate to its force; 
 the same care is taken in making them pa- 
 tient of hunger and thirst: while other ani- 
 mals receive their food at stated times, the 
 camel is restrained for days together, and 
 these intervals of famine are increased in pro- 
 portion as the animal seems capable of sus- 
 taining them. By this method of education, 
 they live five or six days without food or wa- 
 ter; and their stomach is formed most admi- 
 rably by nature to fit them for long abstinence: 
 besides the four stomachs, which all animals 
 have that chew the cud, (and the camel is of 
 the number,) it has a fifth stomach, which 
 serves as a reservoir, to hold a greater quan- 
 tity of water than the animal has an imme- 
 diate occasion for. It is of a sufficient ca- 
 pacity to contain a large quantity of water, 
 where the fluid remains without corrupting, 
 or without being adulterated by the other 
 aliments; when the camel finds itself pressed 
 with thirst, it has here an easy resource for 
 quenching it; it throws up a quantity of this 
 water, by a simple contraction of the muscles, 
 into the other stomachs, and this serves to 
 mascerate its dry and simple food ; in this 
 manner, as it drinks but seldom, it takes in a 
 large quantity at a time, and travellers, when 
 straitened for water, have been often known 
 to kill their camels for that which they ex- 
 pected to find within them. 
 
 In Turkey, Persia, Arabia, Barbary, and 
 Egypt, their whole commerce is carried on 
 by means of camels ; and no carriage is more 
 speedy, and none less expensive, in these 
 countries. Merchants and travellers unite 
 themselves into a body, furnished with camels, 
 to secure themselves from the insults of the 
 robbers that infest the countries in which 
 they live. This assemblage is called a cara- 
 van, in which the numbers are sometimes 
 
132 
 
 THE CAMEL AND DROMEDARY. 
 
 known to amount to above ten thousand, and 
 the number of camels is often greater than 
 those of the men: each of these animals is 
 loaded according to his strength, and he is 
 so sensible of it himself, that when his bur- 
 den is too great, he remains still upon his 
 belly, the posture in which he was laden, re- 
 fusing to rise, till his burden be lessened or 
 taken away. In general, the large camels are 
 capable of carrying a thousand weight, and 
 sometimes twelve hundred ; the dromedary, 
 from six to seven. In these trading journeys 
 they travel but slowly, their stages are ge- 
 nerally regulated, and they seldom go above 
 thirty, or at most about five and thirty miles 
 a day. Every evening, when they arrive at 
 a stage, which is usually some spot of verdure, 
 where water and shrubs are in plenty, they 
 are permitted to feed at liberty; they are 
 then seen to eat as much in an hour, as will 
 supply them for twenty-four; they seem to 
 prefer the coarsest weeds to the softest pas- 
 ture : the thistle, the nettle, the cassia, and 
 other prickly vegetables, are their favourite 
 food; but their drivers take care to supply 
 them with a kind of paste composition, 
 which serves as a more permanent nourish- 
 ment. 
 
 As these animals have often gone the same 
 track, they are said to know their way pre- 
 cisely, and to pursue their passage when their 
 guides are utterly astray; when they come 
 within a few miles of their baiting-place, in 
 the evening, they sagaciously scent it at a 
 distance, and increasing their speed, are often 
 seen to trot with vivacity to their stage. 
 
 The patience of this animal is most extra- 
 ordinary; and it is probable, that its suffer- 
 ings are great; for when it is loaded, it sends 
 forth most lamentable cries, but never offers 
 to resist the tyrant that oppresses it. At the 
 slightest sign, it bends its knees and lies upon 
 its belly, suffering itself to be loaded in this 
 position ; by this practice the burden is more 
 easily laid upon it, than if lifted up while 
 standing; at another sign it rises with its 
 load, and the driver getting upon its back, 
 
 a Mr. Sonnini says, he has sometimes seen them weary 
 of the impatience of their riders, stop short, turn round 
 their long necks to bite them, and utter cries of rage. In 
 these circumstances the man must be careful not to alight, 
 
 between the two panniers, which, like ham- 
 pers, arc placed upon each side, he encou- 
 rages the camel to proceed with his voice 
 and with a song. In this manner the crea- 
 ture proceeds contentedly forward, with a 
 slow uneasy walk, of about four miles an hour, 
 and when it comes to its stage, lies down to 
 be unloaded as before.* 
 
 Mr. Buffon seems to consider the camel to 
 be the most domesticated of all other crea- 
 tures, and to have more marks of the tyran- 
 ny of man imprinted on its form. He is of 
 opinion, that this animal is not now to be 
 found in a state of nature; that the humps on 
 its back, the callosities upon its breast and 
 its legs, and even the great reservoir for wa- 
 ter, are all marks of long servitude and do- 
 mestic constraint. The deformities he sup- 
 poses to be perpetuated by generation ; and 
 what at first was accident, at last becomes 
 nature. However this be, the humps upon 
 the back grow large in proportion as the ani- 
 mal is well fed, and if examined, they will 
 be found composed of a substance not unlike 
 the udder of a cow. 
 
 The inhabitants generally leave but one 
 male to wait on ten females, the rest they 
 castrate; and though they thus become weak- 
 er, they are more manageable and patient. 
 The female receives the male in the same 
 position as when these animals are loaded ; 
 she goes with young for about a year, and, 
 like all other great animals, produces but one 
 at a time. The camel's milk is abundant and 
 nourishing, and mixed with water makes a 
 principal part of the beverage of the Arabians. 
 These animals begin to engender at three 
 years of age, and they ordinarily live from 
 forty to fifty years. The genital part of the 
 male resembles that of the bull, but is placed 
 pointing backwards, so that its urine seems 
 to be ejected in the manner of the female. 
 This, as well as the dung, and almost every 
 part of this animal, is converted to some use- 
 ful purpose by the keepers. Of the urine, 
 sal ammoniac is made ; of the dung, litter for 
 the horses, and fire for the purpose of dres- 
 
 as he would infallibly be torn to pieces ; he must also 
 refrain from striking his beast, as that would but increase 
 his fury. 
 
THE LAMA. 
 
 433 
 
 sing their victuals. Thus, this animal alone 
 seems to comprise within itself a variety of 
 qualities, any one of which serves to render 
 other quadrupeds absolutely necessary for 
 the welfare of man : like the elephant, it is 
 manageable and tame ; like the horse, it 
 gives the rider security; it carries greater 
 
 burdens than the ox or the mule, and its milk 
 is furnished in as great abundance as that of 
 the cow; the flesh of the young ones is sup- 
 posed to be as delicate as veal; their hair is 
 more beautiful, and more in request, than 
 wool; while even of its very excrements no 
 part is useless. 
 
 CHAPTER LXIV. 
 
 THE LAMA. 
 
 AS almost all the quadrupeds of America 
 are smaller than the resembling ones of the 
 ancient continent, so the Lama, which may 
 be cotisidered as the camel of the new world, 
 is every way less than that of the old. This 
 animal, like that described in the former 
 chapter, stands high upon its legs, has a long 
 neck, a small head, and resembles the camel, 
 not only in its natural mildness, but its apti- 
 tude for servitude, its moderation, and its 
 patience. The Americans early found out 
 its useful qualities, and availed themselves of 
 its labours: like the camel, it serves to carry 
 goods over places inaccessible to other beasts 
 of burden ; like that, it is obedient to its dri- 
 ver ; and often dies under, but never resists, 
 his cruelty. 
 
 Of these animals, some are white, others 
 black, but they are mostly brown ; its face 
 resembles that of the camel, and its height is 
 about equal to that of an ass. They are not 
 found in the ancient continent, but entirely 
 belong to the new ; nor are they found spread 
 over all America, but are found chiefly upon 
 those mountains that stretch from New Spain 
 to the Straits of Magellan. They inhabit the 
 highest regions of the globe, and seem to re- 
 quire purer air than animals of a lower situa- 
 tion are found to enjoy. Peru seems to be 
 the place where they are found in greatest 
 plenty. In Mexico they are introduced 
 rather as curiosities than beasts of burden ; 
 but in Potosi, and other provinces of Peru, 
 they make the chief riches of the Indians and 
 Spaniards who rear them: their flesh is ex- 
 cellent food ; their hair, or rather wool, may 
 
 be spun into beautiful clothing; and they are 
 capable, in the most rugged and dangerous 
 ways, of carrying burdens, not exceeding a 
 hundred weight, with the greatest safety. It 
 is true, indeed, that they go but slowly, and 
 seldom above fifteen miles a day; their tread 
 is heavy, but sure; they descend precipices, 
 and find footing among the most craggy rocks, 
 where even men can scarcely accompany 
 them: they are, however, but feeble animals, 
 and after four or five days' labour they are 
 obliged to repose for a day or two. They 
 are chiefly used in carrying the riches of the 
 mines of Potosi ; and we are told that there 
 are above three hundred thousand of these 
 animals in actual employ. 
 
 This animal, as was said before, is above 
 three feet high, and the neck is three feet 
 long, the head is small and well proportioned, 
 the eyes large, the nose long, the lips thick, 
 the upper divided, and the lower a little de- 
 pending ; like all those animals that feed 
 upon grass, it wants the upper cutting teeth; 
 the ears are four inches long, and move with 
 great agility ; the tail is but five inches long, 
 it is small, straight, and a little turned up at 
 the end ; it is cloven-footed like the ox, but 
 it has a kind of spear-like appendage behind, 
 which assists it in moving over precipices and 
 rugged ways ; the wool on the back is short, 
 but long on the sides and the belly; it resem- 
 bles the camel in the formation of the genital 
 parts in the male, so that it makes urine 
 backwards ; it couples also in the same man- 
 ner, and though it finds much difficulty in the 
 aciion,it is said to be much inclined to venery. 
 
434 
 
 THE LAMA. 
 
 A whole day is often passed before this neces- 
 sary business can be completed, which is spent 
 in growling, quarrelling, and spitting at each 
 other ; they seldom produce above one at a 
 time, and their age never extends above ten or 
 twelve years at farthest. 
 
 Though the lama is no way comparable to 
 the camel, either for size, strength, or perse- 
 verance, yet the Americans find a substitute in 
 it, with which they seem perfectly contented. 
 It appears formed for that indolent race of 
 masters which it is obliged to serve ; it requires 
 no care, nor no expense in the attending or 
 providing for its sustenance ; it is supplied 
 with a warm covering, and therefore does not 
 require to be housed ; satisfied with vegetables 
 and grass, it wants neither corn nor hay to 
 subsist it ; it is not less moderate in what it 
 drinks, and exceeds even the camel in temper- 
 ance. Indeed, of all other creatures, it seems 
 to require water least, as it is supplied by na- 
 ture with saliva in such large quantities, that 
 it spits it out on every occasion : this saliva 
 seems to be the only offensive weapon that the 
 harmless creature has to testify its resentment. 
 When overloaded or fatigued, and driven on 
 by all the torturing acts of its keeper, it falls 
 on its belly, and pours out against him a quan- 
 tity of this fluid ; which, though probably no 
 way hurtful, the Indians are much afraid of. 
 They say, that wherever it falls, it is of such 
 an acrimonious nature, that it will either burn 
 the skin, or cause very dangerous eruptions. 
 
 Such are these animals in their domestic 
 state ; but as they are found wild in very great 
 numbers, they exhibit marks of great force and 
 agility in their state of nature. The stag is 
 scarcely more swift, or the goat or the shamoy 
 a better climber. All its skapes are more deli- 
 cate and strong ; its colour is tawny, and its 
 
 wool is but short ; in their native forests, they 
 are gregarious animals, and are often seen in 
 flocks of two or three hundred at a time. 
 When they perceive a stranger, they regnrd 
 him at first with astonishment, without mark- 
 ing any fear or surprise ; but shortly, as if by 
 common consent, they snuff up the air, some- 
 what like horses, and at once, by a common 
 flight, take refuge on the tops of the moun- 
 tains ; they are fonder of the northern than 
 the southern side of the Andes; they often climb 
 above the snowy tracts of the mountain, and 
 seem vigorous in proportion to the coldness 
 of their situation. The natives hunt the wild 
 lama for the sake of its fleece. If the dogs 
 surprise one upon the plain, they are generally 
 successful ; but if once the lama obtains the 
 rocky precipice of the mountain, the hunters 
 are obliged to desist in their pursuit. 
 
 The lama seems to be the largest of the camel 
 kind in America ; there are others, which are 
 called GUANACOES and PACOES, that are smaller 
 and weaker, but endued with the same nature, 
 and formed pretty much in the same manner. 
 They seem to bear the same proportions to 
 each other, that the horse does to the ass, and 
 are employed with the same degree of subor- 
 dination. The wool, however, of the paco, 
 seems to be the most valuable, and it is formed 
 into stuffs not inferior to silk, either in price or 
 beauty. The natural colour of the paco, is 
 that of a dried rose leaf; the manufacturers 
 seldom give its wool any other dye, but form 
 it into quilts and carpets, which exceed those 
 from the Levant. This manufacture forms a 
 very considerable branch of commerce in 
 South America, and probably, too, might be 
 extended to Europe, were the beauty and the 
 durability of what is thus wrought up sufficient- 
 ly known. 
 
THE NYL-GHAU. 
 
 435 
 
 CHAPTER LXV. 
 
 THE NYL-GHAU.' 
 
 THIS animal, the name of which is pro- 
 nounced nylgaw, is a native of India, and has 
 but lately been imported into Europe ; it 
 seems to be of a middle nature, between the 
 cow and the deer, and carries the appearance 
 of both in its form. In its size, it is as much 
 smaller than the one, as it is larger than the 
 other; its body, horns, and tail, are not unlike 
 those of a bull ; and the head, neck, and legs, 
 are very like those of a deer. The colour, in 
 
 feneral, is ash or gray, from a mixture of 
 lack hairs and white ; all along the ridge or 
 edge of the neck, the hair is blacker, larger, 
 and more erect, making a short, thin, and up- 
 right mane. Its horns are seven inches long; 
 they are six inches round at the root ; grow- 
 ing smaller by degrees, they terminate in a 
 blunt point. The bluntness of these, together 
 with the form of its head and neck, might 
 incline us to suppose it was of the deer kind ; 
 but, as it never sheds its horns, it has a 
 greater affinity to the cow. 
 
 From the disposition of that brought over 
 to this country, which has been very accu- 
 rately and minutely described by Dr. Hun- 
 ter, their manners are harmless and gentle. 
 Although in its native wildness it is said to 
 be fierce and vicious, this seemed pleased 
 with every kind of familiarity, and always 
 licked the hand that stroked or gave it bread, 
 and never once attempted to use its horns 
 offensively ; it seemed to have much depen- 
 dence on its organs of smell, and snuffed 
 keenly, and with noise, whenever any person 
 came within sight; it did so likewise when 
 any food or drink was brought to it; and was 
 so easily offended with smells, or so cautious, 
 
 * This quadruped is a species of antelope : the horns 
 are inclining to a triangular form ; and the feet are barred 
 with black and white. 
 
 no. 37 Sc 38 
 
 that it would not taste the bread which was 
 offered, when the hand happened to srnell 
 strong of turpentine. Its manner of fighting 
 is very particular. It was observed at Lord 
 Clive's, where two males were put into a 
 little enclosure, that, while they were at a 
 considerable distance from each other, they 
 prepared for the attack, by falling upon their 
 fore knees, then they shuffled towards each 
 other, with a quick pace, keeping still upon 
 their fore knees ; and when they were come 
 within some yards, they made a spring, and 
 darted against each other. The intrepidity 
 and force with which they dart against any 
 object, appeared by the strength with whicli 
 one of them attempted to overturn a poor 
 labourer, who unthinkingly stood on the out- 
 side of the pales of its enclosure. The nyl- 
 ghau, with the quickness of lightning, darted 
 against the wood-work with such violence, 
 that he broke it to pieces, and broke off one 
 of his horns close to the root, which occa- 
 sioned the animal's death. At all the places 
 in India, where we have settlements, they are 
 considered as rarities, and brought from the 
 distant interior parts of the country. The 
 Emperor, sometimes, kills them in such num- 
 bers, as to distribute quarters of them to all 
 his omrahs ; which shows that they are inter- 
 nally wild and in plenty, and esteemed good 
 and delicious food. The nyl-ghaus which 
 have been brought to England, have been 
 most, if not all of them, received from Surat 
 or Bombay ; and they seem to be less uncom- 
 mon in that part of India, than in Bengal ; 
 which gives room for a conjecture, that they 
 may be indigenous perhaps in the province 
 of Guzarat, one of the most western and most 
 considerable of the Hindosten empire, lying 
 to the northward of Surat, and stretching 
 away to the Indian ocean. 
 3T 
 
436 
 
 THE BEAR. 
 
 CHAPTER LXVI. 
 
 THE BEAR.' 
 
 OF the Bear there aYe three different kinds, 
 the Brown Bear of the Alps, the Black Bear 
 of North America, which is smaller, and the 
 great Greenland or White Bear. These, 
 though different in their forms, are no doubt 
 of the same original, and owe their chief va- 
 riations to food and climate. They have all 
 the same habitudes, being equally carnivorous, 
 treacherous, and cruel. It has been said, in- 
 deed, that the black bear of America rejects 
 animal food ; but of the contrary I am cer- 
 tain, as I have often seen the young ones, 
 which are brought over to London, prefer 
 flesh to every kind of vegetable aliment. 
 
 The BROWN BEAR is properly an inhabitant 
 of the temperate climates ; the black finds sub- 
 sistence in the northern regions of Europe and 
 America ; while the great white bear takes re- 
 fuge in the most icy climates, and lives where 
 scarcely any other animal can find subsistence. 
 
 The brown bear b is not only savage, but so- 
 litary ; he takes refuge in the most unfrequent- 
 ed parts, and the most dangerous precipices of 
 uninhabited mountains. It chooses its den in 
 the most gloomy parts of the forest, in some 
 cavern that has been hollowed by time, or in 
 the hollow of some old enormous tree. There 
 it retires alone, and passes some months of the 
 winter without provisions, or without ever stir- 
 ring abroad. However, this animal is not en- 
 tirely deprived of sensatiwn, like the bat or the 
 dormouse, but seems rather to subsist upon the 
 exuberance of its former flesh, and only feels 
 the calls of appetite, when the fat it had ac- 
 quired in summer begins to be entirely wasted 
 away. In this manner, when the bear retires 
 to its den, to hide for the winter, it is extreme- 
 ly fat ; but at the end of forty or fifty days, 
 
 The animals of this kind, including the Racoon, Wol- 
 verene, Glutton, and Badger, have six front teeth in each 
 jaw ; the two lateral ones of the lower jaw are longer than 
 the rest, and lobed, and are likewise furnished with smal- 
 ler or secondary teeth at their internal bases : the canine 
 teeth are single ; there are five or six grinders on each 
 ide ; the first "of which is placed close to the canine teeth : 
 
 when it comes forth to seek for fresh nourish- 
 ment, it seems to have slept all its flesh a\\ ay. 
 It is a common report, that during this time 
 they live by sucking their paws, which is a 
 vulgar error that scarcely requires confutation. 
 These solitary animals couple in autumn, but 
 the time of gestation with the female is still 
 unknown: the female takes great care to pro- 
 vide a proper retreat for her young ; she se- 
 cures them in the hollow of a rock, and pro- 
 vides a bed of hay in the warmest psnt of her 
 den ; she brings forth in winter, and the young 
 ones begin to follow her in spring. The male 
 and female by no means inhabit the same den ; 
 they have each their separate retreat, and sel- 
 dom are seen together but upon the accesses of 
 genial desire. 
 
 The voice of the bear is a kind of growl, 
 interrupted with rage, which is often caprici- 
 ously exerted ; and though this animal seems 
 gentle and placid to its master, when tamed, 
 yet it is still to be distrusted and managed with 
 caution, as it is often treacherous and resent- 
 ful without a cause. 
 
 This animal is capable of some degree of in- 
 struction. There are few but have seen it 
 dance in awkward measures upon its hind feet, 
 to the voice or the instrument of its leader; 
 and it must be confessed that the dancer is 
 often found to be the best performer of the 
 two. I am told, that it is first taught to per- 
 form in this manner, by setting it upon hot 
 plates of iron, smd then playing to it, while in 
 this uneasy situation. 
 
 The bear, when come to maturity, can ne- 
 ver be tamed ; it then continues in its native 
 fierceness, and, though caged, still formidably 
 impotent, at the approach of its keeper flies to 
 
 the tongue is smooth ; the snout projecting ; and the 
 eyes 'furnished with a nictitant or winking membrane. 
 The soles of the feet are long, and extend to the heel ; 
 some use their fore paws as hands, and they are all able 
 to climb trees in search of prey, or to avoid an enemy, 
 b Button. 
 
THE BEAR. 
 
 437 
 
 meet him. But notwithstanding the fierce- 
 ness of this animal, the natives of those coun- 
 tries where it is found hunt it with great per- 
 severance and alacrity. The least dangerous 
 method of taking it is by intoxicating it, by 
 throwing brandy upon honey, which it seems 
 to be chiefly fond of, and seeks for in the hol- 
 low of trees. In Canada, where the BLACK 
 BEARS are very common, and where their dens 
 are made in trees that are hollow towards the 
 top, they are taken by setting fire to their re- 
 treats, which are often above thirty feet from 
 the ground. The old one is generally seen 
 first to issue from her den, and is shot by the 
 hunters. The young ones as they descend are 
 caught in a noose, and are either kept, or kill- 
 ed for provision. Their paws are said to be 
 a great delicacy, and their hams are well 
 enough known at the tables of the luxurious 
 here. Their fat also, which still preserves a 
 certain degree of fluidity, is supposed to be an 
 efficacious remedy in white or indolent tu- 
 mors, though probably very little superior to 
 hog's lard. 
 
 The WHITE GREENLAND BEAR differs greatly, 
 both in figure and dimensions, from those al- 
 ready described ; and though it preserves in 
 general the external form of its more southern 
 kindred, yet it grows to above three times the 
 size. The brown bear is seldom above six 
 feet long ; the white bear is often known from 
 twelve to thirteen. The brown bear is made 
 rather strong and sturdy, like the mastiff; the 
 Greenland bear, though covered with very 
 long hair, and apparently bulky, is neverthe- 
 less more slender, both as to the head, neck, 
 and body, and more inclining to the shape of 
 the grayhound. In short, all the variations of 
 its figure and its colour, seem to proceed from 
 the coldness of the climate where it resides, 
 and the nature of the food it is supplied with. 
 
 The white bear seems the only animal that, 
 by being placed in the coldest climate, grows 
 larger than those that live in the temperate 
 zones. All other species of animated nature 
 diminish as they approach the poles, and ss'em 
 contracted in their size by the rigours of the 
 ambient atmosphere ; but the bear, being un- 
 molested in these desolate climates, and meet- 
 ing no animal but what he can easily conquer, 
 finding also a sufficient supply of fishy provi- 
 sions, grows to an enormous size ; and as the 
 
 lion is the tyrant of an African forest, so the 
 bear remains undisputed master of the icy 
 mountains in Spitzbergen and Greenland. 
 When our mariners land upon those shores, in 
 such parts as have not been frequented before, 
 the white bears corne down to view them with 
 an awkward curiosity ; they approach slowly, 
 seeming undetermined whether to advance or 
 retreat, and being naturally a timorous ani- 
 mal, they are only urged on by the conscious 
 experience of their former victories ; however, 
 when they are shot at, or wounded, they en- 
 deavour to fly, or, finding that impracticable, 
 they make a fierce and desperate resistance 
 till they die. As they live upon fish and seals, 
 their flesh is too strong for food, and the cap- 
 tors have nothing but the skin to reward 
 them for the dangers incurred in the engage- 
 ment. 
 
 The number of these animals that are found 
 about the north pole, if we consider the 
 scarcity there of all other terrestrial crea- 
 tures, is very amazing. They are not only 
 seen at land, but often on ice-floats, several 
 leagues at sea. They are often transported in 
 this manner to the very shores of Iceland, 
 where they no sooner land, but all the natives 
 are in arms to receive them. It often happens, 
 that when a Greenlander and his wife are pad- 
 dling out at sea, by coming too near an ice- 
 float, a white bear unexpectedly jumps into 
 their boat, and if he does not overset it, sits 
 calmly where he first came down, and, like a 
 passenger, suffers himself to be rowed along. 
 It is probable the poor little Greenlander is 
 not very fond of his new guest ; however, he 
 makes a virtue of necessity, and hospitably 
 rows him to shore. 
 
 As this animal lives chiefly upon fish, seals, 
 and dead whales, it seldom removes far from 
 the shore. When forced by hunger, it often 
 ventures into the deep, swims after seals, and 
 devours whatever it can seize ; it is, however, 
 but a bad swimmer, and is often hunted in 
 this manner by boats till it is fatigued, and at 
 last destroyed. It often happens that a bat- 
 tle ensues between a bear and a morse or a 
 whale ; but as the latter are more expert in 
 their own element, they generally prove vic- 
 torious. However, when the bear can find a 
 young whale, it repays him for the danger he 
 incurs of meeting with the parent. 
 3T* 
 
438 
 
 THE BADGER. 
 
 CHAPTER LXVII. 
 
 THE BADGER. 
 
 THE Badger's legs are so short, that its 
 belly seems to touch the ground ; this, how- 
 ever, is but a deceitful appearance, as it is 
 caused by the length of the hair, which is very 
 long all over the body, and makes it seem 
 much more bulky than it really is. It is a 
 solitary stupid animal, that finds refuge re- 
 mote from man, and digs itself a deep hole 
 with great assiduity. It seems to avoid the 
 light, and seldom quits its retreat by day, 
 only stealing out at night to find subsistence. 
 It burrows in the ground very easily, its legs 
 being short and strong, and its claws stiff" and 
 horny. As it continues to bury itself, it throws 
 the earth behind it to a great distance, and 
 thus forms to itself a winding hole, at the bot- 
 tom of which it remains in safety. As the 
 fox is not so expert at digging into the earth, 
 it often takes possession of that which has 
 been quitted by the badger ; and, some say, 
 forces it from its retreat, by laying its excre- 
 ment at the mouth of the badger's hole. 
 
 This animal, however, is not long in mak- 
 ing itself a new habitation, from which it sel- 
 dom ventures far, as it flies but slowly, and 
 can find safety only in the strength of its re- 
 treat. When it is surprised by the dogs at 
 some distance from its hole, it then combats 
 with desperate resolution ; it falls upon its back, 
 defends itself on every side, and seldom 
 
 dies unrevenged in the midst of its enemies. 
 
 The badger, like the fox, is a carnivorous 
 animal, and nothing that has life can come 
 amiss to it. It sleeps the greatest part of its 
 time, and thus, without being a voracious 
 feeder, it still keeps fat, particularly in win- 
 ter. They always keep their hole very clean; 
 and when (he female brings forth, she makes 
 a comfortable warm bed of hay, at the bot- 
 tom of her hole, for the reception of her young. 
 She brings forth in summer, generally to the 
 number of three or four, which she feeds at 
 fiist with her milk, and afterwards with such 
 petty prey as she can surprise. She seizes 
 the young rabbits in their warren, robs birds' 
 nests, finds out where the wild bees have 
 laid up their honey, and brings all to her ex- 
 pecting brood. 
 
 The young ones when taken are easily 
 tamed, but the old still continue savage and 
 incorrigible; the former, after a short time, 
 play with the dogs, follow their master about 
 the house, but seem of all other animals the 
 most fond of the fire. They often approach 
 it so closely, that they burn themselves in a 
 dangerous manner. They are sometimes also 
 subject to the mange ; and have a gland un- 
 dertheirtail whichscentsprettystrongly. The 
 poor of some countries eat their flesh ; which 
 though fat, is at best but rank and ill tasted. 
 
THE TAPIR THE RACOON. 
 
 439 
 
 CHAPTER LXVm. 
 
 THE TAPIR.* 
 
 THERE seems to be a rude, but an infe- 
 rior resemblance, between many animals of 
 the old and the new world. The cougar of 
 America resembles the tiger in natural fero- 
 city, though far inferior in its dimensions. 
 The lama bears some affinity to the camel, 
 but is far behind it in strength and utility. 
 The tapir may be considered as the hippopo- 
 tamus of the new continent, but degraded 
 both as to its size and ferocity. 
 
 This animal bears some distant resemblance 
 in its form to a mule. It has a long snout, 
 which it lengthens or contracts at pleasure. 
 Its ears are small, long, and pendent. Its 
 neck and tail are short, and its claws strong 
 and firm, of which it has four upon each foot. 
 
 Its skin is thick, and covered with brown hair; 
 and the natives make shields of it, which can- 
 not be pierced by an arrow. 
 
 This animal may, in some measure, be 
 termed amphibious, as it chiefly resides in 
 the water. It differs, however, from all 
 others of this kind, in feeding entirely upon 
 vegetables, and not making this element 
 the place of its depredations. It feeds 
 upon the pastures by the river-side, and 
 as it is very timorous, the instant it hears 
 the least noise, it plunges into the stream. 
 They are greatly sought after by the na- 
 tives, as their flesh is considered as a de- 
 licacy, and thought by some not inferior 
 to beef. 
 
 CHAPTER LXIX. 
 
 THE RACOON. 
 
 THE Racoon, which some authors have 
 called the Jamaica rat, is about the size of 
 a small badger; its body is short and bulky; 
 its fur is fine, long, and thick, blackish at the 
 surface, and gray towards the bottom ; the 
 nose is rather shorter, and more pointed, than 
 that of the fox ; the eyes large and yellow ; 
 the teeth resembling those of a dog; the tail 
 thick, but tapering towards a point, regular- 
 ly marked with rings of black, and at least as 
 long as the body; the fore feet are much 
 shorter than the hinder, both armed with five 
 
 * The Tapir has ten front teeth in both jaws: the canine 
 teeth are single in each jaw, and are bent inwards : there 
 are five very broad grinders on each side in both jaws : 
 the feet have three hoofs ; but on the fore feet is an ad- 
 ditional false or supplementary hoof. Its general attitude, 
 when .it rest, is sitting on its rump. It sleeps much by 
 .day, and when attacked by dogs makes a vigorous resist- 
 
 sharp claws, with which, and his teeth, the 
 animal makes a vigorous resistance. Like 
 the squirrel, it makes use of its paws to hold 
 its food while eating, but it differs from the 
 monkey kind, which use but one hand on 
 those occasions, whereas the racoon and the 
 squirrel use both; as, wanting the thumb, 
 their paws singly are unfit for grasping or 
 holding. Though this animal be short and 
 bulky, it is however very active; its pointed 
 claws enable it to climb trees with great fa- 
 cility; it runs on the trunk with the same 
 
 ance. Its voice is a kind of whistle, so easily imitated, 
 that in this manner it is frequently trepanned. It pro- 
 duces but one young at a birth, of which it is very careful, 
 leading it early to the water, to instruct it in swimming. 
 It is gregarious, feeds by night on vegetables, and doe* 
 not ruminate, as Mr. Bajon affirms. 
 
440 
 
 THE COATIMONDI. 
 
 swiftness that it moves upon the plain, and 
 sports among the most extreme brandies 
 with great agility, security, and ease; it 
 moves forward chiefly by bounding, and 
 though it proceeds in an oblique direction, 
 it has speed enough most frequently to es- 
 cape its pursuers. 
 
 This animal is a native of the southern 
 parts of America, nor have any travellers 
 mentioned its being found in the ancient con- 
 tinent. But in the climates of which it is a 
 native, it is found in noxious abundance, par- 
 ticularly in Jamaica, where it keeps in the 
 mountains, and where it often descends to 
 feed upon the plantations of sugar-cane. 
 The planters of these climates consider these 
 animals as one of their greatest miseries ; they 
 have contrived various methods of destroying 
 them, yet still they propagate in such numbers 
 that neither traps nor fire-arms can set them 
 free ; so that a swarm of these famished crea- 
 tures are found to do more injury in a single 
 
 night, than the labours of a month can repair. 
 But though, when wild, they are thus trou- 
 blesome, in a state of tameness no animal is 
 more harmless or amusing ; they are capable 
 of being instructed in various little amusing 
 tricks. The racoon is playful and cleanly, 
 and is very easily supported ; it eats of every 
 thing that is given it, and, if left to itself, no 
 cat can be a better provider; it examines every 
 corner, eats of all flesh, either boiled or raw, 
 eggs, fruits, or corn; insects themselves can- 
 not escape it, and, if left at liberty in a gar- 
 den, it will feed upon snails, worms, and bee- 
 tles; but it has a particular fondness for 
 sweets of every kind, and to be possessed 
 of these, in its wild state, it incurs every dan- 
 ger. Though it will eat its provisions dry, 
 it will for choice dip them in water, if it hap- 
 pens to be in the way. It has one pecu- 
 liarity which few other animals have been 
 found to possess it drinks as well by lap- 
 ping like the dog, as by sucking like the horse^ 
 
 CHAPTER LXX. 
 
 THE COATIMONDI. 
 
 THE first peculiarity with which this ani- 
 mal strikes the spectator, is the extreme 
 length of its snout, which, in some measure, 
 resembles that of the hog, but elongated to 
 a surprising degree, it bears some distant re- 
 semblance to the animal last described, ex- 
 cept that the neck and the body are longer, 
 the fur shorter, and the eyes smaller; but its 
 principal distinction, as was said before, con- 
 sists in the shape of its nose; the upper 
 jaw being an inch longer than the lower, 
 and the snout, which is moveable in every 
 division, turning up at the end. Like the 
 racoon, it sits up on the hinder legs with great 
 ease, and, in this position, with both paws car- 
 ries the food to its mouth. 
 
 This animal is very subject to eat its own 
 tail, which is rather longer than its body : 
 but this strange appetite is not peculiar 
 
 to the coati alone ; the mococo, and some 
 of the monkey kinds, do the same, and seem 
 to feel no pain in wounding a part of the 
 body so remote from the centre of circula- 
 tion. 
 
 It seems possessed of the same playful 
 qualities, and indiscriminate appetites, with 
 the animal described in the last chapter ; if 
 left at liberty in a state of tameness, it will 
 pursue the poultry, and destroy every living 
 thing that it has strength to conquer; though 
 it is playful with its keeper, yet it seems ob- 
 stinately bent against receiving any instruc- 
 tion, and neither threats nor caresses can 
 induce it to practise any arts to which it is 
 not naturally inclined. When it sleeps, it 
 rolls itself up in a lump, and in that position 
 often continues for fourteen or fifteen hours 
 together. 
 
THE ANT-BEAR. 
 
 441 
 
 CHAPTER LXXI. 
 
 THE ANT-BEAR. 
 
 THERE are many animals that live upon 
 ants in Africa and America ; the pangolin or 
 scaly lizard of Guinea may be considered 
 among this number; but there are a greater 
 variety in America, which make those minute 
 insects their only subsistence. Though they 
 are of different figures and sizes, yet, in 
 general, they go under one common name of 
 the ant-bear ; the peculiar length and sleri- 
 derness of their snout, their singular appe- 
 tites, and their mariner of taking their prey, 
 striking us too strongly to attend to the mi- 
 nute differences of their size or form. 
 
 They have been classed by Mr. Buffbn into 
 
 the LARGER TAMANDUA, the SMALLER TAMANDl'A, 
 
 and the ANT-EATER. The longest of this kind 
 is four feet long, from the tip of the snout to 
 the insertion of the tail; their legs are short, 
 and armed with four strong claws; their tail 
 is long and tufted, and the animal often throws 
 it on its back like the squirrel. The second 
 of this kind is not above eighteen inches 
 long, the tail is without hair, and it sweeps the 
 ground as the animal moves. The ANT-EATER, 
 which is the third variety, is still smaller than 
 either of the former, as it is not above seven 
 inches from the tip of the snout to the inser- 
 tion of the tail. The two former are of a 
 brown dusky colour, but this of a beautiful 
 reddish, mixed with yellow. Though they 
 differ in figure, they all resemble each other 
 in one peculiarity, which is the extreme 
 slenderness of their snout, and the amazing 
 length of their tongue. 
 
 The snout is produced in so disproportion- 
 ate a manner, that the length of it makes near 
 a fourth part of the whole figure. A horse 
 has one of the longest heads of any animal 
 we know, and yet the ant-bear has one above 
 twice as long, in proportion to its body. The 
 snout of this animal is almost round and 
 cylindrical : it is extremely slender, arid is 
 scarcely tlw ker near the eyes than at its ex- 
 tremity. The mouth is very small, the nos- 
 
 trils are very close to each other, the eyes 
 are little in proportion to the length of the 
 nose, the neck is short, the tongue is ex- 
 tremely long, slender, and flatted on both 
 sides; this it keeps generally doubled up in 
 the mouth, and is the only instrument by 
 which it finds subsistence; for the whole of 
 this tribe are entirely without teeth, and find 
 safety only in the remoteness and security of 
 their retreat. 
 
 If we examine through the various regions 
 of the earth, we shall find that all the most 
 active, sprightly, and useful quadrupeds, have 
 been gathered round man, and either served 
 his pleasures, or still maintained their inde- 
 pendence by their vigilance, their cunning, 
 or their industry. It is in the remote soli- 
 tudes that we are to look for the helpless, the 
 deformed, and the monstrous births of nature. 
 These wretched animals being incapable of 
 defending themselves, either by their agility 
 or their natural arms, fall a prey to every 
 creature that attacks them ; they, therefore, 
 retire for safety into the darkest forests, or 
 the most desert mountains, where none of the 
 bolder or swifter animals choose to reside. 
 
 It may well be supposed that an animal so 
 helpless as the ant-bear is. with legs too short 
 to fit it for flight, and unprovided with teeth 
 to give it a power of resistance, is neither 
 numerous, nor often seen ; its retreats are in 
 the most barren and uncultivated parts of 
 South America. It is a native only of the new 
 continent, and entirely unknown to the old. 
 It lives chiefly in the woods, and hides itself 
 under the falien leaves. It seldom ventures 
 from its retreat, and the industry of an hour 
 supplies it with sufficient food for several 
 days together. Its manner of procuring its 
 prey is one of the most singular in all natural 
 history: as its name implies, it lives entirely 
 upon ants and insects ; these, in the countries 
 where it is bred, are found in the greatest 
 abundance, and often build themselves hills 
 
442 
 
 THE SLOTH 
 
 five or six feet high, where they live in com- 
 munity. When this animal approaches an 
 ant-hill, it creeps slowly forward on ils belly, 
 taking every precaution to keep itself con- 
 cealed, till it comes within a proper distance 
 of the place where it intends to make its ban- 
 quet; there lying closely along at its length, 
 it thrusts forth its round red tongue, which is 
 often two feet long, across the path of these 
 busy insects, and there lets it lie motionless 
 for several minutes together. The ants of 
 that country, some of which are half an inch 
 long, considering it as a piece of flesh acci- 
 dentally thrown before them, come forth and 
 swarm upon it in great numbers: but wher- 
 ever they touch they stick; for this instru- 
 ment is covered with a slimy fluid, which, 
 like bird-lime, entangles every creature that 
 lights upon it. When, therefore, the ant-bear 
 has found a sufficient number for one morsel, 
 it instantly draws in the tongue, and devours 
 them all in a moment ; after which it still 
 continues in its position, practising the 
 
 [Besides the animal here described, are others of the 
 same kind ; the most remarkable of which are, the little 
 Ant-eater, or Fourmiller, and the prickly Ant-eater of 
 New Holland. 
 
 The former is singular for its having only two toes on 
 the fore feet, armed with strong claws ; and a tail which 
 it is able to coil round the branches of trees, and hold fast 
 by. The claws on the fore feet are extremely dispro- 
 portionate ; the outer one being very large, and the inner 
 one much smaller. The whole animal is clothed in a 
 beautiful, soft, curled, pale yellow fur. It is a native of 
 Guiana. 
 
 same arts until its hunger is entirely appeas- 
 ed; it then retires to its hiding-place once 
 more, where it continues in indolent exis- 
 tence, till again excited by the calls of hun- 
 ger. 
 
 Such is the luxurious life of a creature, that 
 seems of all others the most helpless and de- 
 formed. It finds safety in its hiding-places 
 from its enemies, and an ample supply in some 
 neighbouring ant-hill for all its appetites. As 
 it only .tries to avoid its pursuers, it is seldom 
 discovered by them ; yet helpless as this ani- 
 mal is, when driven to an extremity, though 
 without teeth, it will fight with its claws with 
 great obstinacy. With these arms alone, it 
 has often been found to oppose the dog, and 
 even the jaguar. It throws itself upon its 
 back, fastens upon its enemy with all its 
 claws, sticks with great strength and per- 
 severance, and even after killing his invader, 
 w T hich is sometimes the case, does not quit its 
 hold, but remains fastened upon it with vin- 
 dictive desperation. 
 
 The prickly Ant-eater is a short, roundish animal, with 
 a long tubular mouth, and entirely covered over on the 
 upper parts with strong sharp spines, resembling those of 
 the Porcupine. Its tail is very short, and entirely con- 
 cealed in the spines. The head, legs, and under parts of 
 the body, are thickly covered with a dark-brown harsh 
 hair. On its fore feet are five strong claws, and four on 
 the hinder. In its mode of life it resembles the rest of its 
 tribe, being generally found in the midst of some large 
 ant-hill. When disturbed, it burrows with great strength 
 and despatch under ground, during which exertion its body 
 is lengthened out in a surprising manner.] 
 
 CHAPTER LXXII. 
 
 THE SLOTH. 
 
 OF the Sloth there are two different kinds, 
 distinguished from each other by their claws ; 
 the one, which in its native country is called 
 the Ma, having only two claws upon the fore 
 feet, and being without a tail; the other, 
 which is called the at, having a tail, and three 
 claws upon each foot. The unan has the 
 snout longer, the ears more apparent, and the 
 fur very different from the other. It differs 
 
 also in the number of its ribs, this having 
 forty-six, while the ai has but twenty-eight. 
 These differences, however, which though 
 very apparent, have been but little regarded 
 in the description of two animals which so 
 strongly resemble each other in the general 
 outlines of their figure, in their appetites, 
 and their helpless formation. 
 
 They are both, therefore, described under 
 
THE SLOTH. 
 
 443 
 
 the common appellation of the Sloth, and their 
 habitudes well deserve our wonder and 
 curiosity. Nature seems cramped and con- 
 strained in their formation ; other animals 
 are often indolent from choice, these are 
 slow from necessity. The ai, from which I 
 shall take my description, and from which 
 the other differs only in the slight particulars 
 above mentioned, and in being rather more 
 active, is of about the size of a badger. Its 
 fur is coarse and staring, somewhat resem- 
 bling dried grass ; the tail very short, and 
 scarcely appearing; the mouth extended from 
 ear to ear; the eye dull and heavy; the feet 
 armed with three claws each, and made so 
 short, and set on so awkwardly, that a few paces 
 is often the journey of a week; but though 
 the feet are short, they are still longer than 
 its legs, and these proceed from the body in 
 such an oblique direction, that the sole of the 
 foot seldom touches the ground. When the 
 animal, therefore, is compelled to make a 
 step forward, it scrapes on the back of the 
 nails along the surface, and wheeling the limbs 
 circularly about, yet still touching the ground, 
 it at length places its foot in a progressive 
 position; the other three limbs are all brought 
 about with the same difficulty ; and thus it is 
 seen to move, not above three feet in an hour. 
 In fact, this poor creature seldom changes 
 place but by constraint, and when impelled 
 by the severest stings of hunger. 
 
 The sloth seems to be the meanest and 
 most ill-formed of all those animals that chew 
 the cud ; it lives entirely upon vegetable 
 food, on the leaves, the fruit, and the flowers, 
 of trees, and often even on the very bark, 
 when nothing else is left on the tree for its 
 subsistence. Like all other ruminant ani- 
 mals, it has four stomachs ; and these requir- 
 ing a large share of provision to supply them, 
 it generally strips a tree of all its verdure in 
 less than a fortnight. Still, however, it keeps 
 aloft, unwilling to descend, while any thing 
 remains that can serve it for food ; it there- 
 fore falls to devouring the bark, and thus in 
 a snort time kills the tree upon which it found 
 itssupport. Thusdestituteof provisions above, 
 and crawling slowly from branch to branch 
 in hopes of finding something still left, it is at 
 last obliged to encounter all the dangers that 
 attend it below. Though it is formed by na- 
 
 1 wo. 3f & 38. 
 
 [ hire for climbing a tree with great pain and 
 difficulty, yet it is utterly unable to descend ; 
 it therefore is obliged to drop from the branch- 
 es to the ground, and as it is incapable of ex- 
 erting itself to break the violence of its de- 
 scent, it drops like a shapeless heavy mass, 
 and feels no small shock in the fall. There, 
 after remaining some time torpid, it prepares 
 for a journey to some neighbouring tree ; but 
 this of all migrations is the most tedious, 
 dangerous, and painful; it often takes a week 
 in crawling to a tree not fifty yards distant; 
 it moves with imperceptible slowness, and 
 often baits by the way. All motions seem to 
 torture it, every step it takes it sets forth a 
 most plaintive melancholy cry, which, from 
 some distant similitude to the human voice, 
 excites a kind of disgust, mixed with pity. 
 This plaintive'sound seems its chief defence; 
 few quadrupeds appear willing to interrupt 
 its progress, either that the flesh is offensive, 
 or that they are terrified at its cries. When 
 at length they reach their destined tree, they 
 mount it with much greater ease than when 
 they moved upon the plain. They fall 
 to with famished appetite, and, as before, 
 destroy the very source that supplies 
 them. 
 
 How far these may be considered as the 
 unfinished productions of nature, I will not 
 take upon me to determine ; if we measure 
 their happiness by our sensations, nothing, it 
 is certain, can be more miserable; but it is 
 probable, considered with regard to them- 
 selves, they may have some stores of comfort 
 unknown to us, which may set them upon a 
 level with some other inferior ranks of the 
 creation; if a part of their life be exposed to 
 pain and labour, it is compensated by a larger 
 portion of plenty, indolence and safety. In 
 fact, they are formed very differently from all 
 other quadrupeds, and, it is probable, they 
 have different enjoyments. Like birds, they 
 have but one common vent for the purposes 
 of propagation, excrement, and urine. Like 
 the tortoise, which they resemble in the slow- 
 ness of their motion, they continue to live 
 some time after their nobler parts are wound- 
 ed, or even taken away. They bear the 
 marks of all those homely-formed animals, 
 that, like rude machines, are not easily dis- 
 composed. 
 
 3U 
 
444 
 
 THE JERBOA. 
 
 Its note," according to Kircher, is an as- 
 cending and descending hexachord, which it 
 utters only by night; its look is so piteous, as 
 to move compassion ; it is also accompanied 
 with tears, that dissuade every body from in- 
 juring so wretched a being. Its abstinence 
 from food is remarkably powerful ; one that 
 had fastened itself by its feet to a pole, and 
 was so suspended across two beams, remain- 
 ed forty days, without meat, drink, or sleep ; 
 the strength of its feet is so great, that what- 
 soever it seizes on cannot possibly be freed 
 from its claws. A dog was let loose at the 
 above mentioned animal, taken from the pole; 
 after some time the sloth laid hold of the dog 
 with its feet, and held him four days, till he 
 perished with hunger. 
 
 [In addition to the two here mentioned, 
 
 another, and by far the largest of its kind, has 
 lately been introduced to the notice of natu- 
 ralists from India. This animal approaches 
 in size and shape to that of the common bear, 
 being clothed with a very long black shaggy 
 hair. Its snout is a little elongated, and ap- 
 pears as if cut off at the end. The feet are 
 all armed with five crooked pointed claws; 
 and the tail is short, and hardly visible. In 
 its motions, it was not, as in the others, slow 
 and languid; but it appeared moderately 
 lively, and made a kind of short abrupt roar 
 when disturbed or irritated. It fed princi- 
 pally upon vegetables and milk, and was 
 much delighted with honey and sweet things. 
 It was said to burrow, and to have been dug 
 out of its subterraneous retreat when first 
 discovered.] 
 
 CHAPTER LXX1H. 
 
 THE JERBOA." 
 
 THIS animal as little resembles a quadru- 
 ped, as that which has been described in a 
 former chapter. If we should suppose a bird, 
 divested of its feathers, and walking upon its 
 legs, it might give us some idea of its figure. 
 It has four feet indeed, but in running, or rest- 
 ing, it never makes use of any but the hinder. 
 The number of legs, however, do not much 
 contribute to any animal's speed ; and the 
 jerboa, though, properly speaking, furnished 
 but with two, is one of the swiftest creatures 
 in the world. 
 
 a Pennant's Synopsis. 
 
 b These curious animals have two front teeth in each 
 jaw; the fore legs are very short, and the hind legs very 
 long; they have perfect collarbones. M. Sonnini, while 
 he was in Egypt, fed for some time six of these animals in 
 a large cage of iron wire. The very first night, they en- 
 tirely gnawed asunder the upright and cross sticks of their 
 prison ; and he was under the necessity of having the in- 
 side of the cage lined with tin. They were fond of bask- 
 ing in the sun, and as soon as they were placed in the 
 shade, they clung close to each other, and seemed to suffer 
 from the privation of warmth. They did not usually 
 sleep during the day. Though they had much agility in 
 their movements, gentleness and tranquillity seemed to 
 form their character. They suffered themselves to be 
 
 The jerboa is not above the size of a large 
 rat, and its head is sloped somewhat in the 
 manner of a rabbit ; the teeth also are form- 
 ed like those of the rat kind, there being two 
 cutting teeth in each jaw; it has a very long 
 tail, tufted at the end ; the head, the back, 
 and sides, are covered with long ash-colour- 
 ed soft hair; the breast and belly is whitish; 
 but what most deserves our attention in the 
 formation of this little animal, is the legs ; the 
 fore legs are not an inch long, with four claws 
 and a thumb upon each, while the hinder 
 
 stroked with great composure, and never made a noise or 
 quarrelled among themselves, even when food was scatter- 
 ed among them. No distinguishing symptoms of joy, 
 fear, or gratitude, were discoverable; and even their 
 gentleness was by no means either amiable or interesting; 
 it appeared the effect of a cold and comple'e indifference, 
 approaching to stupidity. Three of these died before he 
 left Alexandria; two died on a rou<*h passage to the isle 
 of Rhodes ; and the last was lost, and, as he supposes, de- 
 voured by cats while he was on the island. 
 
 He observes, that they do not ruminate, and that it is 
 difficult to transport them, on account of the quickness 
 and facility with which they gnaw through the thickest 
 and strongest boards. 
 
THE JERBOA. 
 
 445 
 
 legs are two inches and a quarter, and exact- 
 ly resemble those of a bird, there being but 
 three toes, the middlemost of which is longest. 
 
 The jerboa is found in Egypt, Barbary, Pa- 
 lestine, and the deserts between Bussorah and 
 Aleppo ; its hind legs, as was said before, are 
 only used in running, while the fore paws, 
 like those of a squirrel, grasp its food, and in 
 some measure perform the office of hands. 
 It is often seen by travellers as they pass 
 along the deserts, crossing thei r way, and j u rap- 
 ing six or eight feet at every bound, and 
 going so swiftly, that scarcely any other quad- 
 ruped is able to overtake them. They are 
 a lively harmless race of animals, living en- 
 tirely upon vegetables, and burrowing like 
 rabbits in the ground. Mr. Pennant tells us 
 of two that were lately brought to London, 
 that burrowed almost through the brick wall 
 of the room where they were kept ; they came 
 out of their hole at night for food, and, when 
 caught, were much fatter and sleeker than 
 when confined to their burrows. A variety 
 of this animal is found also in Siberia and 
 Circassia, and is, most probably, common 
 enough over all Asia. They are more expert 
 diggers than even the rabbit itself; and when 
 pursued for a long time, if they cannot escape 
 by their swiftnesa, they try to make a hole 
 instantly in the ground, in which they often 
 bury themselves deep enough to find security 
 before their pursuers come up. Their bur- 
 rows, in some places, are so thick, as to be 
 dangerous to travellers, the horses perpe- 
 tually falling in them. It is a provident little 
 animal, and lays up for the winter. It cuts 
 grass in heaps of a foot square, which, when 
 dried, it carries into its burrow, therewith 
 to serve it for food, or to keep its young warm 
 during the rigours of the winter. 
 
 But of all animals of this kind, that which 
 was first discovered and described by Mr. 
 Banks, is the most extraordinary. He calls 
 it the kanguroo ; and though from its general 
 outline, and the most striking peculiarities of 
 its figure, it greatly resembles the jerboa, yet 
 it entirely differs, if we consider its size, or 
 those minute distinctions which direct the 
 makers of systems in assorting the general 
 ranks of nature." 
 
 The largest of the jerboa kind which are 
 to be found in the ancient continent, do not 
 
 exceed the size of a rabbit. The kanguroo 
 of New Holland, where it is only to be found, 
 is often known to weigh above sixty pounds, 
 and must consequently be as large as a 
 sheep. Although the skin of that which was 
 stuffed and brought home by Mr. Banks, was 
 not much above the size of a hare, yet it was 
 greatly superior to any of the jerboa kind that 
 have been hitherto known, and very different 
 in many particulars. The snout of the jer- 
 boa, as has been said, is short and round, 
 that of the discovered animal long and slen- 
 der; the teeth also entirely differ; for as the 
 jerboa has but two cutting teeth in each jaw, 
 making four in all, this animal, besides its 
 cutting teeth, has four canine teeth also ; but 
 what makes a more striking peculiarity, is 
 the formation of its lower jaw, which, as the 
 ingenious discoverer supposes, is divided into 
 two parts, which open and shut like a pair 
 of scissors, and cut grass, probably this ani- 
 mal's principal food. The head, neck, and 
 shoulders, are very small in proportion to 
 the other parts of the body ; the tail is near- 
 ly as long as the body ; thick near the rump, 
 and tapering towards the head and ears, 
 which bear a slight resemblance to those of 
 the hare. We are not told, however, from 
 the formation of its stomach, to what class 
 of quadrupeds it belongs: from its eating 
 grass, which it has been seen to do, one 
 would be apt to rank it among the ruminating 
 animals ; but from the canine teeth which it 
 is found to have, we may on the other hand 
 suppose it to bear some relation to the car- 
 nivorous. Upon the whole, however, it can 
 be classed with none more properly, than 
 with animals of the jerboa kind, as its hind 
 legs are so much longer than the fore; it 
 moves also precisely in the same manner, 
 taking great bounds of ten or twelve feet at 
 a time, and thus sometimes escaping even 
 the fleetest grayhound, with which Mr. Banks 
 pursued it. One of them that was killed 
 proved to be good food ; but a second, which 
 weighed eighty-four pounds, and was not 
 
 In order to supply some deficiencies in our author's 
 description of this animal, the reader is referred to p. 413, 
 under the head of the "Oppossum and its kinds," to 
 which class naturalists now consider this creature to be 
 liearly allied. 
 
 SU 
 
446 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 yet come to its full growth, was found to be 
 much inferior. 
 
 With this last described and last discover- 
 ed animal, I shall conclude the history of 
 quadrupeds, which of all parts of natural 
 knowledge seems to have been described the 
 most accurately. As these, from their figure, 
 as well as their sagacity, bear the nearest re- 
 semblance to man, and from their uses or 
 enmities are the most respectable parts of 
 the inferior creation; so it was his interest, 
 and his pleasure, to make himself acquainted 
 with their history. It is probable therefore 
 that time, which enlarges the sphere of our 
 knowledge in other parts of learning, can add 
 but very little to this. The addition of a new 
 quadruped to the catalogue already known, 
 is of no small consequence, and happens but 
 seldom; for the number of all is so few, that 
 wherever a new one is found, it becomes an 
 object worthy our best attention. It may 
 take refuge in its native deserts from our pur- 
 suits, but not from our curiosity. 
 
 But it is very different with the inferior 
 ranks of the creation ; the classes of birds, of 
 fishes, and of insects, are all much more nu- 
 merous, and more incompletely known. The 
 quadruped is possessed of no arts of escaping, 
 which we are not able to overcome ; but the 
 bird removes itself by its swiftness, the fishes 
 find protection in their native element, and 
 insects are secured in their minuteness, num- 
 bers, and variety. Of all these, therefore, we 
 have but a very inadequate catalogue ; and 
 though the list be already very large, yet 
 every hour is adding to its extent. 
 
 In fact, all knowledge is pleasant only as 
 the object of it contributes to render man 
 happy ; and the services of quadrupeds be- 
 ing so very necessary to him in every situa- 
 tion, he is particularly interested in their 
 history : without their aid, what a wretched 
 and forlorn creature would he have been ! 
 the principal part of his food, his clothing, 
 and his amusements, are derived wholly from 
 them; and he may be considered as a great 
 lord, sometimes cherishing his humble de- 
 pendents, and sometimes terrifying the refrac- 
 tory, to contribute to his delight and conve- 
 niences. 
 
 The horse and the ass, the elephant, the 
 camel, the lama, and rein-deer, contribute to 
 
 ease his fatigues, and to give him that swift- 
 ness which he wants from nature By their 
 assistance, he changes place without hbour; 
 he attains health without weariness; his pride 
 is enlarged by the elegance of equipage, and 
 other animals are pursued with a certainty of 
 success. It were happy indeed for man, if, 
 while converting these quadrupeds to his own 
 benefit, he had not turned them to the de- 
 struction of his fellow creatures; he has em- 
 ployed some of them for the purposes of war, 
 and they have conformed to his noxious am- 
 bition with but too fatal an obedience. 
 
 The cow, the sheep, the deer, and all their 
 varieties, are necessary to him, though in a 
 different manner. Their flesh makes the 
 principal luxuries of his table, and their wool 
 or skins the chief ornament of his person. 
 Even those nations that are forbid to touch 
 any thing that has life, cannot wholly dispense 
 with their assistance. The milk of these ani- 
 mals makes a principal part of the food of 
 every country, and often repairs those con- 
 stitutions that have been broken by disease 
 or intemperance. 
 
 The dog, the cat, and the ferret, may be 
 considered as having deserted from their 
 fellow quadrupeds, to list themselves under 
 the conduct and protection of man. At his 
 command they exert all their services against 
 such animals as they are capable of destroy- 
 ing, and follow them into places where he 
 himself wants abilities to pursue. 
 
 As there is thus a numerous tribe, that he 
 has taken into protection, and that supplies 
 his necessities and amusements, so there is 
 also a still more numerous one, that wages an 
 equal combat against him, and thus calls forth 
 his courage and his industry. Were it not 
 for the lion, the tiger, the panther, the rhi- 
 noceros, and the bear, he would scarcely know 
 his own powers, and the superiority of human 
 art over brutal fierceness. These serve to 
 excite, and put his nobler passions into 
 motion. He attacks them in their retreat, 
 faces them with resolution, and seldom fails 
 of coming off with a victory. He thus be- 
 comes hardier and better in the struggle, and 
 learns toknow and to value hisownsuperiority. 
 
 As the last mentioned animals are called 
 forth by his boldest efforts, so the numerous 
 tribe of the smaller vermin kind excite his 
 
QUADRUPEDS. 
 
 447 
 
 continual vigilance and caution ; his various 
 arts and powers have been no where more 
 manifest, th:in in the extirpation of those that 
 multiply with such prodigious fecundity. 
 Neither thoir agility nor their minuteness 
 can secure them from his pursuits; and though 
 they may infest, they are seldom found mate- 
 rially to injure him. 
 
 In this manner we see, that not only human 
 want is supplied, but that human wit is sharp- 
 ened, by the humbler partners of man in the 
 creation. By this we see, that not only their 
 benefits, but their depredations, are useful, 
 and that it has wisely pleased providence to | 
 
 place us like victors in a subdued country, 
 where we have all the benefit of conquest, 
 without being so secure as to run into the 
 sloth and excesses of a certain and undis- 
 turbed possession. It appears, therefore, 
 that those writers who are continually finding 
 immediate benefit in every production, see 
 but half way into the general system of na- 
 ture. Experience must every hour 'inform 
 us, that all animals are not formed for our use; 
 but we may be equally well assured, that 
 those conveniences which we want from their 
 friendship, are well repaid by that vigilance 
 which we procure from their enmity. 
 
418 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 OF BIRDS INT GENERAL. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXIV. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 WE are now come to a beautiful and lo- 
 quacious race of animals, that embellish our 
 forests, amuse our walks, and exclude solitude 
 from our most shady retirements. From 
 these man has nothing to fear; their pleasures, 
 their desires, and even their animosities, only 
 serve to enliven the general picture of na- 
 ture, and give harmony to meditation. 
 
 No part of nature appears destitute of in- 
 habitants. The woods, the waters, the depths 
 of the earth, have their respective tenants; 
 while the yielding air, and those tracts of 
 seeming space where man never can ascend, 
 are also passed through by multitudes of the 
 most beautiful beings of the creation. 
 
 Every order and rank of animals seems fit- 
 ted for its situation in life ; but none more 
 apparently than birds: they share, in com- 
 mon with the stronger race of quadrupeds, 
 the vegetable spoils of the earth; are sup- 
 plied with swiftness, to compensate for their 
 want of force ; and have a faculty of ascend- 
 ing into the air, to avoid that power which 
 they cannot oppose. 
 
 The bird seems formed entirely for a life 
 of escape ; and every part of the anatomy 
 of the animal seems calculated for swiftness. 
 As it is designed to rise upon air, all its parts 
 are proportionably light, and expand a large 
 surface without solidity. 
 
 In a comparative view with man, their for- 
 mation seems much ruder and more imper- 
 fect ; and they are in general found incapa- 
 ble of the docility even of quadrupeds. In- 
 deed, what great degree of sagacity can be 
 expected in animals whose eyes are almost as 
 
 large as their brain ? However, though they 
 fall below quadrupeds in the scale of nature, 
 and are less imitative of human endowments ; 
 yet they hold the next rank, and far surpass 
 fishes and insects, both in the structure of 
 their bodies and in their sagacity. 
 
 As in mechanics the most curious instru- 
 ments are generally the most complicated, 
 so it is in anatomy. The body of man pre- 
 sents the greatest variety upon dissection; 
 quadrupeds, less perfectly formed, discover 
 their defects in the simplicity of their con- 
 formation ; the mechanism of birds is still 
 less complex ; fishes are furnished with few- 
 er organs still ; whilst insects, more imper- 
 fect than all, seem to fill up the chasm that 
 separates animal from vegetable nature. Of 
 man, the most perfect animal, there are but 
 three or four species; of quadrupeds, the 
 kinds are more numerous; birds are more 
 various still ; fishes yet more ; but insects af- 
 ford so very great a variety, that they elude 
 the search of the most inquisitive pursuer. 
 
 Quadrupeds, as was said, have some dis- 
 tant resemblance in their internal structure 
 with man ; but that of birds is entirely dissi- 
 milar. As they seem chiefly formed to inha- 
 bit the empty regions of air, all their parts 
 are adapted to iheir destined situation. It 
 will be proper, therefore, before I give a ge- 
 neral history of birds, to enter into a slight 
 detail of their anatomy and conformation. 
 
 As to their external parts, they seem sur- 
 prisingly adapted for swiftness of motion. 
 The shape of their body is sharp before, to 
 pierce andfnake way through the air; it then 
 
BIRDS IN GENERAL. 
 
 449 
 
 rises by a gentle swelling to its bulk, and 
 falls off in an expansive tail, that helps to 
 keep it buoyant, while the fore parts are 
 cleaving the air by their sharpness. From 
 this conformation, they have often been com- 
 pared to a ship making its way through wa- 
 ter; the trunk of the body answers to the 
 hold, the head to the prow, the tail to the 
 rudder, and the wings to the oars; from 
 whence the poets have adopted the meta- 
 phor of remigium alarum, when they describe 
 the wavy motion of a bird in flight. 
 
 What we are called upon next to admire 
 in the external formation of birds is, the neat 
 position of the feathers, lying all one way, 
 answering at otice the purposes of warmth, 
 speed, and security. They mostly tend back- 
 ward, and are laid over one another in an 
 exact and regular order, armed with warm 
 and soft down next the body, and more strong- 
 ly fortified, and curiously closed externally, 
 to fence off the injuries of the weather. But, 
 lest the feathers should spoil by their violent 
 attrition against the air, or imbibe the mois- 
 ture of the atmosphere, the animal is furnish- 
 ed with a gland behind, containing a proper 
 quantity of oil, which can be pressed out by 
 the bird's bill, and laid smoothly over every 
 feather that wants to be dressed for the oc- 
 casion. This gland is situated on the rump, 
 and furnished with an opening or excretory 
 duct ; about which grows a small tuft of fea- 
 thers somewhat like a painter's pencil. When, 
 therefore, the feathers are shattered or rum- 
 pled, the bird, turning its head backwards, 
 with the bill catches hold of the gland, and, 
 pressing it, forces out the oily substance, with 
 which it anoints the disjoined parts of the 
 feathers; and drawing them out with great 
 assiduity, recomposes and places them in due 
 order; by which they unite more closely to- 
 ge'.her. Such poultry, however, as live for 
 the most part under cover, are not furnished 
 with so large a stock of this fluid, as those 
 birds that reside in the open air. The fea- 
 thers of a hen, for instance, are pervious to 
 every shower; on the contrary, swans, geese, 
 ducks, and all siich as nature has directed to 
 live upon the water, have their feathers dress- 
 ed with oil from the very first day of their 
 leaving the shell. Thus their stock of fluid 
 is equal to the necessity of its consumption. 
 
 Their very flesh contracts a flavour from it, 
 which renders it in some so very rancid, as 
 to make it utterly unfit for food ; however, 
 though it injures the flesh, it improves the 
 feathers for all the domestic purposes to 
 which they are usually converted. 
 
 Nor are the feathers with which birds are 
 covered less an object of admiration. The 
 shaft of every feather is made proportionably 
 strong ; but hollow below for strength and 
 lightness, and above filled with a pith to feed 
 the growth of the vane or beard that springs 
 from the shall of the feather on either side. 
 All these feathers are placed generally ac- 
 cording to their length and strength, so that 
 the largest and strongest feathers in flight 
 have the greatest share of duty. The vane 
 or beard of the feather is formed with equal 
 contrivance and care. It consists not of one 
 continued membrane ; because, if this were 
 broken, it could not easily be repaired ; but 
 it is composed of many layers, each some- 
 what in itself resembling a feather, and lying 
 against each other in close conjunction. To- 
 wards the shaft of the feather, these layers 
 are broad, and of a semicircular form, to 
 serve for strength, and for the closer graft- 
 ing them one against the other when in ac- 
 tion. Towards the outer part of the vane, 
 these layers grow slender and taper, to be 
 more light. On their under-side they are 
 thin and smooth, but their upper outer-edge 
 is parted into two hairy edges, each side ha- 
 ving a different sort of hairs, broad at bot- 
 tom, and slender and bearded above. By 
 this mechanism, the hooked beards of one 
 layer always lie next the straight beards of 
 the next, and by that means lock and hold 
 each other. 
 
 The next object that comes under consi- 
 deration, in contemplating an animal that flies, 
 is the wing, the instrument by which this won- 
 derful progression is performed. In such 
 birds that fly, they are usually placed at that 
 part of the body which serves to poise the 
 whole, and support it in a fluid that at first 
 seems so much lighter than itself. They an- 
 swer to the fore legs in quadrupeds; and at 
 the extremity of this they hare a certain fin- 
 ger-like appendix, which is usually called the 
 bastard-wing. This instrument of flight is fur- 
 nished with quills, which differ from the com- 
 
450 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 mon feathers only in their size being larger, 
 and also from their springing from the deeper 
 part of the skin, their shafts lying almost close 
 to the bone. The beards of these quills are 
 broad on one side and more narrow on the 
 other, both which contribute to the progres- 
 sive motion of the bird, and the closeness of 
 the wing. The manner in which most birds 
 avail themselves of these, is first thus : they 
 quit the earth with a bound, in order to have 
 room for flapping with the wing ; when they 
 have room for this, they strike the body of 
 air beneath the wing with a violent motion, 
 and with the whole under surface of the same; 
 but then to avoid striking the air with equal 
 violence on the upper side as they rise, the 
 wing is instantly contracted ; so that the ani- 
 mal rises by the impulse, till it spreads the 
 wing for a second blow. For this reason, 
 we always see birds choose to rise against 
 the wind, because they have thus a greater 
 body of air on the under than the upper side 
 of the wing. For these reasons also large 
 fowls do not rise easily ; both because they 
 have not sufficient room at first for the motion 
 of their wings, and because the body of air 
 does not lie so directly under the wing as 
 they rise. 
 
 In order to move the wings, all birds are 
 furnished with two very strong pectoral mus- 
 cles, which lie on each side of the breast- 
 bone. The pectoral muscles of quadrupeds, 
 are trifling in comparison to those of birds. 
 In quadrupeds, as well as in man, the muscles 
 which move the thighs arid hinder parts of 
 the body are by far the strongest, while those 
 of the arms are feeble : but in birds, which 
 make use of their wings, the contrary obtains; 
 the pectoral muscles, that move the wings or 
 arms, are of enormous strength, while those 
 of the thighs are weak and slender. By 
 means of these, a bird can move its wings 
 with a degree of strength which, when com- 
 pared to the animal's size, is almost incredi- 
 ble. The flap of a swan's wing would break 
 a man's leg ; and a similar blow from an ea- 
 gle has been known to lay a man dead in an 
 instant. Such, consequently, is the force of 
 the wing, and such its lightness, as to be ini- 
 mitable by art. No machines, that human 
 skill can contrive, are capable of giving such 
 force to so light an apparatus. The art of 
 
 flying, therefore, that has so often and so fruit- 
 lessly been sought after, must, it is feared, 
 forever be unattainable; since as man in- 
 creases the force of his flying machine, he 
 must be obliged to increase its weight also. 
 
 In all birds, except nocturnal ones, the 
 head is smaller, and bears less proportion to 
 the body than in quadrupeds, that it may 
 more readily divide the air in flying, and 
 make way for the body, so as to render its 
 passage more easy. Their eyes also are 
 more flat and depressed than in quadrupeds; 
 a circle of small plates of bone, placed scale- 
 wise, under the outer coat of the organ, en- 
 compasses the pupil on each, to strengthen 
 and defend it from injuries. Beside this, 
 birds have a kind of skin, called the nicti- 
 tating membrane, with which, like a vail, 
 they can at pleasure cover their eyes, though 
 their eyelids continue open. This mem- 
 brane takes its rise from the greater or more 
 obtuse corner of the eye, and serves to wipe, 
 cleanse, and probably to moisten its surface. 
 The eyes, though they outwardly appear but 
 small, yet, separately, each almost equals the 
 brain ; whereas in man the brain is more than 
 twenty times larger than the orbit of the eye. 
 Nor is this organ in birds less adapted for 
 vision by a particular expansion of the optic 
 nerve, which renders the impressions olT ex- 
 ternal objects more vivid and distinct. 
 
 From this conformation of the eye it follows, 
 that the sense of seeing in birds is infinitely 
 superior to that of other animals. Indeed 
 this piercing sight seems necessary to the 
 creature's support and safety. Were this 
 organ blunter, from the rapidity of the bird's 
 motion, it would be apt to strike against every' 
 object in its way ; and it could scarcely find 
 subsistence, unless possessed of a power to 
 discern its food from above with astonishing 
 sagacity. An hawk, for instance, perceives 
 a lark at a distance which neither men nor 
 dogs could spy ; a kite, from an almost im- 
 perceptible height in the clouds, darts down 
 on its prey with the most unerring aim. The 
 sight of birds, therefore, exceeds what we 
 know in most other animals, and excels them 
 both in strength and precision. 
 
 All birds want the external ear standing 
 out from the head ; they are only furnished 
 I with holes that convey sounds to the audi- 
 
BIRDS IN GENERAL. 
 
 4.31 
 
 tory canal. It is true, indeed, that the horned 
 owl, and one or two more birds, seem to have 
 external ears; but what bears that resem- 
 blance are only leathers sticking out on each 
 side of the head, but no way necessary to 
 the sense of hearing. It is probable, how- 
 ever, that the feathers encompassing the ear- 
 holes in birds, supply the detect of the exte- 
 rior ear, and collect sounds to be transmitted 
 to the internal sensory. The extreme deli- 
 cacy of this organ is easily proved by the 
 readiness with which birds learn tunes, or 
 repeat words, and the great exactness of 
 their pronunciation. 
 
 The sense of smelling seems not less vivid 
 in the generality of birds. Many of them 
 wind their prey at an immense distance, while 
 others are equally protected by this sense 
 against their insidious pursuers. In decoys, 
 where ducks are caught, the men who attend 
 tnem universally keep a piece of turf burn- 
 ing near their mouths, upon which they 
 breathe, lest the fowl should smell them, and 
 consequently fly away. The universality of 
 this practice puts the necessity of it beyond 
 a doubt, and proves the extreme delicacy of 
 the sense of smelling, at least in this species 
 of the feathered creation. 
 
 Next to the parts for flight, let us view the 
 legs and feet ministering to motion. They 
 are both made light, for the easier transpor- 
 tation through the air. The toes in some are 
 webbed, to fit them for the waters; in others 
 they are separate, for the better holding ob- 
 jects, or clinging to trees for safety. Such 
 as have long legs have also long necks, as 
 otherwise they would be incapable of gather- 
 ing up their food either by land or water. 
 But it does not hold, however, that those ho 
 have long necks should have long legs, since 
 we see that swans and geese, whose necks 
 are extremely long, have very short legs, 
 and these chiefly employed in swimming. 
 
 Thus every external part, hitherto noticed, 
 appears adapted to the life and situation of 
 the animal; nor are the inward parts, though 
 less immediately appropriated to flight, less 
 necessary to safety. The bones of every part 
 of the body are extremely light and thin ; and 
 all the muscles, except that immediately 
 moving the wings, extremely slight and fee- 
 ble. The tail, which is composed of quill 
 
 NO. 39 Sf 40. 
 
 feathers, serves to counterbalance the head 
 and neck ; it guides the animal's flight, like 
 a rudder, and greatly assists it either in its 
 ascent or when descending. 
 
 If we go on to examine birds internally, we 
 shall find the same wonderful conformation 
 fitting them for a life in air, and increasing 
 the surface by diminishing the solidity. In 
 the first place their lungs, which are com- 
 monly called the sole, stick fast to the sides 
 of the ribs and back, and can be very little 
 dilated or contracted. But to make up for 
 this, which might impede their breathing, the 
 ends of the branches of the wind-pipe open 
 into them, while these have openings into 
 the cavity of the belly, and convey the air 
 drawn in by breathing into certain receptacles 
 like bladders, running along the length of the 
 whole body. Nor are these openings obscure, 
 or difficult to be discerned ; for a probe 
 thrust into the lungs of a fowl will easily find 
 a passage into the belly ; and air blown into 
 the wind-pipe will be seen to distend the 
 animal's body like a bladder. In quadrupeds 
 this passage is stopped by the midriff 1 ; but 
 in fowls the communication is obvious; and, 
 consequently, they have a much greater fa- 
 cility of taking a long and large inspiration. 
 It is sometimes also seen that the wind-pipe 
 makes many convolutions within the body of 
 a bird, and it is then called the labyrinth ; but 
 of what use these convolutions are, or why 
 the wind-pfpe should make so many turnings 
 within the body of some birds, is a difficulty 
 for, which no naturalist has been able to ac- 
 count. 
 
 This difference of the wind-pipe often ob- 
 tains in animals that, to all appearance, are 
 of the same species. Thus in the tame swan, 
 the wind-pipe makes but a straight passage 
 into the lungs; while in the wild swan, which 
 to all external appearance seems the same 
 animal, the wind-pipe pierces through the 
 breast-bone, and there lias several turnings 
 before it comes out again, and goes to enter 
 the lungs. It is not to form the voice that 
 these turnings are found, since the fowls that 
 are without them are vocal ; and those, par- 
 ticularly the bird just now mentioned, that 
 have them, are silent. Whence, therefore, 
 some birds derive that loud and various mo- 
 dulation in their warblings, is not easily to 
 3X 
 
452 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 be accounted for ; at least the knife of the 
 anatomist goes but a short way in the inves- 
 tigation. All we are certain of is, that birds 
 have much louder voices, in respect to their 
 bulk, than animals of any other kind ; for the 
 bellowing of an ox is not louder than the 
 scream of a peacock. 
 
 In these particulars, birds pretty much re- 
 semble each other in their internal conforma- 
 tion ; but there are some varieties which we 
 should more attentively observe. All birds 
 have, properly speaking, but one stomach; 
 but this is very different in different kinds. 
 In all the rapacious kinds that live upon ani- 
 mal food, as well as in some of the fish-feeding 
 tribe, the stomach is peculiarly formed. The 
 oesophagus, or gullet, in them, is found replete 
 with glandulous bodies, which serve to dilate 
 and macerate the food, as it passes into the 
 stomach, which is always very large in pro- 
 portion to the size of the bird, and generally 
 wrapped round with fat, in order to increase 
 its warmth and powers of digestion. 
 < Granivorous birds, or such as live upon 
 fruits, corn, and other vegetables, have their 
 intestines differently formed from those of the 
 rapacious kind. Their gullet dilates just 
 above the breast-bone, and forms itself into a 
 pouch or bag, called the crop. This is re- 
 plete with salivary glands, which serve to 
 moisten and soften the grain and other food 
 which it contains. These glands are very 
 numerous, with longitudinal openings, which 
 emit a whitish and a viscous substance. After 
 the dry food of the bird has been macerated 
 for a convenient time, it then passes into the 
 belly, where, instead of a soft moist stomach, 
 as in the rapacious kinds, it is ground be- 
 tween two pair of muscles, commonly called 
 the gizzard, covered on the insidewith a stony 
 ridgy coat, and almost cartilaginous. These 
 coats rubbing against each other, are capable 
 of bruising and attenuating the hardest sub- 
 stances, their action being often compared to 
 that of the grinding teeth in man and other 
 animals. Thus the organs of digestion are in 
 a manner reversed in birds. Beasts grind 
 their food with their teeth, and then it passes 
 into the stomach, where it is softened and 
 digested. On the contrary, birds of this sort 
 first macerate and soften it in the crop, and 
 then it is ground and comminuted in the sto- 
 
 mach or gizzard. Birds are also careful to 
 pick up sand, gravel, and other hard substan- 
 ces, not to grind their food as has been sup- 
 posed, but to prevent the too violent action 
 of the coats of the stomach against each 
 other 
 
 Most birds have two appendices, or blind- 
 guts, which, in quadrupeds, are always found 
 single. Among such birds as are thus sup- 
 plied, all carnivorous fowl, and all birds of 
 the sparrow kind, have very small and short 
 ones; water-fowl and birds of the poultry 
 kind, the longest of all. There is still another 
 appendix observable in the intestines of birds, 
 resembling a little worm, which is nothing 
 more than the remainder of that passage by 
 which the yolk was conveyed into the guts of 
 the young chicken, while yet in the egg and 
 under incubation. 
 
 The outlet of that duct which conveys the 
 bile into the intestines is, in most birds, a 
 great way distant from the stomach; which 
 may arise from the danger there would be of 
 the bile regurgitating into the stomach in their 
 various rapid motions, as we see in men at 
 sea ; wherefore their biliary duct is so con- 
 trived, that this regurgitation cannot take 
 place. 
 
 All birds, though they want a bladder for 
 urine, have large kidneys and ureters, by 
 which this secretion is made, and carried 
 away by one common canal. " Birds," says 
 Harvey, " as well as serpents, which have 
 spongy lungs, make but little water, because 
 they drink but little. They therefore have 
 no need of a bladder ; but their urine distils 
 down into the common canal, designed for re- 
 ceiving the other excrements of the body. 
 The urine of birds differs from that of other 
 animals : for, as there is usually in urine two 
 parts, one more serous and liquid, the other 
 more thick and gross, which subsides to the 
 bottom; in birds, the last part is most abun- 
 dant, and is distinguished from the rest by its 
 white or silver colour. This part is found 
 not only in the whole intestinal canal, but is 
 seen also in the whole channel of the ureters, 
 which may be distinguished from the coats of 
 the kidneys by their whiteness. This milky 
 substance they have in greater plenty than 
 the more thin and serous part ; and it is of a 
 middle consistence, between limpid urine and 
 
BIRDS IN GENERAL. 
 
 453 
 
 the grosser parts of the faeces. In passing 
 through the ureters, it resembles milk curdled 
 or lightly condensed ; and, being cast forth, 
 easily congeals into a chalky crust." 
 
 From this simple conformation of the ani- 
 mal, it should seem that birds are subject to 
 few diseases ; and, in fact, they have but few. 
 There is one, however, which they are sub- 
 ject to, from which quadrupeds are, in a great 
 measure, exempt; this is the annual moulting 
 which they suffer ; for all birds whatsoever 
 obtain a new covering of feathers once a year, 
 and cast the old. During the moulting season, 
 they ever appear disordered; those most re- 
 markable for their courage, then lose all their 
 fierceness ; and such as are of a weakly con- 
 stitution, often expire under this natural ope- 
 ration. No feedingcan maintain their strength; 
 they all cease to breed at this season ; that 
 nourishment which goes to the production of 
 the young is wholly absorbed by the demand 
 required for supplying the nascent plumage. 
 
 This moultiug-time, however, may be 
 artificially accelerated ; and those who have 
 the management of singing-birds frequently 
 put their secret in practice. They enclose 
 the bird in a dark cage, where they keep it 
 excessively warm, and throw the poor little 
 animal into an artificial fever ; this produces 
 the moult; his old feathers fall before their 
 time, and a new set take place, more brilliant 
 and beautiful than the former. They add, 
 that it mends the bird's singing, and increases 
 its vivacity; but it must not be concealed, that 
 scarcely one bird in three survives the opera- 
 tion. 
 
 The manner in which nature performs this 
 operation of moulting is thus : the quill, or 
 feather, when first protruded from the skin, 
 and come to its full size, grows harder as it 
 grows older,and receivesakind of periosteum 
 or skin round the shaft, by which it seems 
 attached to the animal. In proportion as the 
 quill grows older, its sides, or the bony pen- 
 part, thicken ; but its whole diameter shrinks 
 
 and decreases. Thus, by the thickening 
 of its sides, all nourishment from the body 
 becomes more sparing ; and, by the decrease 
 of its diameter, it becomes more loosely fixed 
 in its socket, till at length it falls out. In the 
 mean time, the rudiments of an incepient quill 
 are beginning below. The skin forms itself 
 into a little bag, which is fed from the body 
 by a small vein and artery, and which every 
 day increases in size till it is protruded. 
 While the one end vegetates into the beard 
 or vane of the feather, that part attached to 
 the skin is still soft, and receives a constant 
 supply of nourishment, which is diffused 
 through the body of the quill by that little 
 light substance which we always find within 
 when we make a pen. This substance, which 
 as yet has received no name that I know of, 
 serves the growing quill as the umbilical ar- 
 tery does an infant in the womb, by supply- 
 ing it with nourishment, arid diffusing that 
 nourishment over the whole frame. When, 
 however, the quill is come to its full growth, 
 and requires no further nourishment, the vein 
 and artery become less and less, till at last 
 the little opening by which they commu- 
 nicated with the quill becomes wholly obli- 
 terated ; and the quill, thus deprived, con- 
 tinues in its socket for some months, till in 
 the end it shrinks, and leaves room for a re- 
 petition of the same process of nature as be- 
 fore. 
 
 The moulting season commonly obtains 
 from the end of summer to the middle of au- 
 tumn. The bird continues to struggle with 
 this malady during the winter; and nature 
 has kindly provided, that when there are the 
 fewest provisions, that then the animal's ap- 
 petite shall be least craving. At the begin- 
 ning of spring, when food begins again to be 
 plentiful, the animal's strength and vigour re- 
 turn. It is then that the abundance of pro- 
 visions, aided by the mildness of the season, 
 incite it to love, and all nature seems teem- 
 ing with life, and disposed to continue it. 
 3X 
 
454 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 CHAPTER LXXV. 
 
 OF THE GENERATION, NESTLING, AND INCUBATION, OF BIRDS. 
 
 THE return of spring is the beginning of 
 pleasure. Those vital spirits, which seemed 
 locked up during the winter, then begin to 
 expand ; vegetables and insects supply abun- 
 dance of food ; and the bird, having more 
 than a sufficiency for its own subsistence, is 
 impelled to transfuse life, as well as to main- 
 tain it. Those warblings, which had been 
 hushed during the colder seasons, now begin 
 to animate the fields; every grove and bush 
 resounds with the challenge of anger, or the 
 call of allurement. This delightful concert 
 of the grove, which is so much admired by 
 man, is no way studied for his amusement: 
 it is usually the call of the male to the female, 
 his efforts to soothe her during the times of 
 incubation; or it is a challenge between two 
 males, for the affections of some common fa- 
 vourite. 
 
 It is by this call that birds begin to pair at 
 the approach of spring, and provide for the 
 support of a future progeny. The loudest 
 notes are usually from the male, while the 
 hen seldom expresses her consent, but in a 
 short interrupted twittering. This compact, 
 at least for the season, holds with unbroken 
 faith; many birds live with inviolable fidelity 
 together for a constancy ; and when one dies, 
 the other is always seen to share the same 
 fate soon after. We must not take our idea 
 of the conjugal fidelity of birds from observ- 
 ing the poultry in our yards, whose freedom 
 is abridged, and whose manners are totally 
 corrupted by slavery. We must look for it 
 in our fields and our forests, where nature 
 continues in unadulterated simplicity ; where 
 the number of males is generally equal to 
 that of females ; and where every little ani- 
 mal seems prouder of his progeny, than pleas- 
 ed with his mate. Were it possible to com- 
 pare sensations, the male of all wild birds 
 seems as happy in the young brood as the 
 female; and all his former caresses, all his 
 soothing melodies, seem only aimed at that 
 
 important occasion, when they are both to 
 become parents, and to educate a progeny 
 of their own producing. The pleasures of 
 love appear dull in their effects, when com- 
 pared to the interval immediately after the 
 exclusion of their young. They both seem 
 at that season transported with pleasure; 
 every action testifies their pride, their impor- 
 tance, and tender solicitude. 
 
 When the business of fecundation is per- 
 formed, the female then begins to lay. Such 
 eggs as have been impregnated by the cock 
 are prolific; and "such as have not, for she 
 lays often without any congress whatsoever, 
 continue barren, and are only addled by in- 
 cubation. Previous, however, to laying, the 
 work of nestling becomes the common care; 
 and this is performed with no small degree 
 of assiduity and apparent design. It has 
 been asserted, that birds of one kind always 
 make their nests in the same manner, and of 
 the same materials; but the truth is, that 
 they vary this as the materials, places, or cli- 
 mates, happen to differ. The red breast, in 
 some parts of England, makes its nest with 
 oak leaves, where they are in greatest plen- 
 ty; in other parts, with moss and hair. Some 
 birds, that with us make a very warm nest, 
 are less solicitous in the tropical climates, 
 where the heat of the weather promotes the 
 business of incubation. In general, however, 
 every species of birds has a peculiar archi- 
 tecture of its own ; and this adapted to the 
 number of eggs, the temperature of the cli- 
 mate, or the respective heat of the little ani- 
 mal's own body. Where the eggs are nu- 
 merous, it is then incumbent to make the nest 
 warm, that the animal heat may be equally 
 diffused to them all. Thus the wren, and all 
 the small birds, make the nest very warm ; 
 for having many eggs, it is requisite to dis- 
 tribute warmth to them in common: on the 
 contrary, the plover, that has but two eggs, 
 the eagle, and the crow, are not so solicitous 
 
BIRDS IN GENERAL. 
 
 455 
 
 in this respect, as thoir bodies are capable 
 of being; applied to the sin ill number upon 
 which thpy sit. With regard to climate, 
 water-fowl, that with us make but a very slo- 
 V'lly nest, are much more exact in this par- 
 ticular in the colder regions of the north. 
 Tiif-y there take every precaution to make 
 it warm; and some kinds strip the down 
 from their breasts, to line it with greater 
 security. 
 
 In general, however, every bird resorts to 
 hatch in those climates and places where its 
 fuo.l is found in greatest plenty; and always 
 at that season when provisions are in the 
 greatest abundance. The large birds, and 
 those of the aquatic kinds, choose places as 
 remote from man as possible, as their food is 
 in general different from that which is culti- 
 vated by human labour. Some birds, which 
 have only the serpent to fear, build their 
 nests depending from the end of a small bough, 
 and form the entrance from below; being 
 thus secured either from the serpent or the 
 monkey tribes. But all the little birds which 
 live upon fruits and corn, and that are too 
 often unwelcome intruders upon the fruits of 
 human industry, in making their nests, use 
 every precaution to conceal them from man. 
 On the other hand, the great birds remote 
 from human society, use every precaution to 
 render theirs inaccessible to wild beasts or 
 vermin. 
 
 Nothing can exceed the pntience of birds 
 while hatching; neither the calls of hunger,- 
 nor the near approach of danger, can drive 
 them from the nest. They are often fat upon 
 beginning to sit, yet before incubation is over 
 the female is usually wasted to skin and bone. 
 Ravens and crows, while the females are sit- 
 ting, take care to provide them with food; 
 and-this in great abundance. But it isdiffe - 
 enl with most of the smaller kinds-: during 
 the whole time, the male sits near his mate 
 upon some tree, and soothes her by his sing- 
 ing; and often when she is tired takes her 
 .place, and patiently continues upon the nest 
 till she returns. Sometimes, however, the 
 eggs acquire a degree of heat too much for 
 the purposes of hatching; in such cases, the 
 hen leaves them to cool a little, and then re- 
 trrns to sit with her usual perseverance and 
 pleasure. 
 
 So great is the power of instinct in ani- 
 mals of this class, that they seem driven from 
 one appetite to another, and continue almost 
 passive under its influence. Reason we can- 
 not call it, since the first dictates of that prin- 
 ciple would be self-preservation: "Take a 
 brute." says Addison, "out of his instinct, and 
 you find him wholly deprived of under- 
 standing. With what caution," continues h>, 
 " does the hen provide herself a nest in pla- 
 ces unfrequented, and free from noise and 
 disturbance! When she has laid her eggs in 
 such a manner that she can cover them, what 
 care does she take in turning them frequent- 
 ly, that all parts may partake of the vital 
 warmth! When she leaves them, to provide 
 for her necessary sustenance, how punctually 
 does she return before they have time to cool, 
 and become incapable of producing an ani- 
 mal! In the summer you see her giving her- 
 self greater freedoms, and quitting her care 
 for above two hours together: but in winter, 
 when the rigour of the season would chill 
 the principles of life, and destroy the young 
 one, she grows more assiduous in her attend- 
 ance, and stays away but half the time. 
 When the birth approaches, with how much 
 nicety and attention does she help the chick 
 to break the prison! not to h'ke notice of 
 her covering it from the injuries of the wea- 
 ther, providing it with proper nourishment, 
 am! teaching it to help itself; nor to mention 
 her forsaking the nest, if, after the usual time 
 of reckoning, the young one does not make 
 its appearance. A chymical operation could 
 not be followed with greater art or diligence 
 than is f-een in the hatching a chick, though 
 there are many birds thai show an infinitely 
 greater sagacity: yet at the same time the 
 hen, that has all this seeming ingenuity, 
 (which is indeed absolutely necessary for 
 the propagation of the species,) considered 
 in other respects, is without the least glim- 
 merings of thought or common sense: she 
 mistakes a piece of chalk for an egg, and sits 
 upon it in the same manner; she is insensible 
 of any increase or diminution in the number 
 of those she lays; she does not distinguish 
 between her own, and those of another spe- 
 cies; and when the birth appears of never 
 so different a bird, will cherish it for her 
 own. A hen, followed by a brood of ducks, 
 
456 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 shall stand affrighted at the edge of the pond, 
 trembling for the fate of her young, which 
 she sees venturing into so dangerous an ele- 
 ment. As the different principle which acts 
 in these different animals cannot be termed 
 reason, so when we call it instinct, we mean 
 something we have no knowledge of. It ap- 
 pears to me the immediate direction of Pro- 
 vidence; and such an operation of the Su- 
 preme Being, as that which determines all 
 the portions of matter to their proper centres." 
 
 The production of the young, as was said, 
 seems to be the great a?ra of a bird's hap- 
 piness. Nothing can at that time exceed its 
 spirit and industry: the most timid becomes 
 courageous in the defence of its young. Birds 
 of the rapacious kind, at this season, become 
 more than usually fierce and active. They 
 carry their prey, yet throbbing with life, to 
 the nest, and early accustom their young to 
 habits of slaughter and cruelty. Nor are 
 those of milder natures less busily employed ; 
 the little birds then discontinue their singing, 
 taken up with more important pursuits of com- 
 mon subsistence. 
 
 While the young are yet unfledged, and 
 continue in the nest, the old ones take care 
 to provide them with a regular supply; and, 
 lest one should take all nourishment from 
 the rest, they feed each of the young in their 
 turn. If they perceive that man has been 
 busy Avith their nest, or has handled the lit- 
 tle ones, they abandon the place by night, and 
 provide their brood a more secure, though 
 less commodious, retreat. When the whole 
 family is completely plumed, and capable of 
 avoiding danger by flight, they are then led 
 forth when the weather is fine, and taught the 
 paternal art of providing for their subsistence. 
 They are led to the places where their food 
 lies ; they are shown the method of discover- 
 ing or carrying it away ; and then led back 
 to the nest, for a day or two longer. At length, 
 when they are completely qualified to shift 
 for themselves, the old ones take them abroad, 
 and leading them to the accustomed places, 
 forsake them for the last time ; and all future 
 connexion is ever at an end. 
 
 Those birds which are hatched and sent 
 out earliest in the season are the most strong 
 and vigorous ; those, on the other hand, that 
 have been delayed till the midst of summer, 
 
 are more feeble and tender, and sometimes 
 incapable of sustaining the rigours of the en- 
 suing winter. Birds themselves seem sensi- 
 ble of this difference, and endeavour to pro- 
 duce early in the spring. If, however, their 
 efforts are obstructed by having their nests 
 robbed, or some similar accident, they still 
 persevere in their efforts for a progeny ; and 
 it often happens that some are thus retarded 
 till the midst of winter. What number of 
 eggs any bird can lay in the course of a sea- 
 son is not ascertained ; but this is true, that 
 such as would have laid but two or three at 
 the most, if their nests be robbed, or their 
 eggs stolen, will lay above ten or twelve. A 
 common hen, if moderately fed, will lay above 
 a hundred from the beginning of spring to 
 the latter end of autumn. In general, how- 
 ever, it obtains, that the smallest and weak- 
 est animals are the most prolific, while the 
 strong and rapacious are abridged by sterili- 
 ty. Thus, such kinds as are easily destroy- 
 ed, are as readily repaired ; and nature, 
 where she has denied the power of resistance, 
 has compensated by the fertility attending 
 procreation. 
 
 Birds in general, though they have so much 
 to fear from man and each other, are seldom 
 scared away from their usual haunts. Al- 
 though they be so perfectly formed for a 
 wandering life, and are supplied with pow- 
 ers to satisfy all their appetites, though never 
 so remote from the object, though they are 
 so well fitted for changing place with ease 
 and rapidity, yet the greatest number remain 
 contented in the districts where they have 
 been bred, and by no means exert their de- 
 sires in proportion to their endowments. The 
 rook, if undisturbed, never desires to leave 
 his native grove; the black-bird still frequents 
 its accustomed hedge; and the red-breast, 
 though seemingly mild, claims a certain dis- 
 trict, from which he seldom moves, but drives 
 out every one of the same species from thence 
 without pity. They are excited to migra- 
 tion by no other motives but those of fear, 
 climate, or hunger. It must be from one of 
 these powerful motives that the birds, which 
 are called birds of passage, every year for- 
 sake us for some time, and make their regu- 
 lar and expected returns. 
 
 Nothing has more employed the curiosity 
 
BIRDS IN GENERAL. 
 
 457 
 
 of mankind than these annual emigrations; 
 and yet few subjects continue so much involv- 
 ed in darkness. It is generally believed, that 
 the cause of their retreat from these parts of 
 Europe, is either a scarcity of food at certain 
 seasons, or the want of a secure asylum from 
 the persecution of man, during the time of 
 courtship and bringing up their young. Thus 
 the starling, in Sweden, at the approach of 
 winter, finding subsistence no longer in that 
 kingdom, descends every year into Germany; 
 and the hen chaffinches of the same country 
 are seen every year to fly through Holland 
 in large flocks, to pass their winter in a milder 
 climate. Others, with a more daring spirit, 
 prepare for journeys that might intimidate even 
 human perseverance. Thus the quails, in 
 spring, forsake the burning heats of Africa for 
 the milder sun of Europe ; and, when they 
 have past the summer with us, steer their 
 flight back to enjoy in Egypt the temperate 
 air, which then begins to be delightful. This, 
 with them, seems a preconcerted undertaking. 
 They unite together in some open place, for 
 some days before their departure, and, by an 
 odd kind of chattering, seem to debate on the 
 method to proceed. When their plan is re- 
 solved upon, they all take flight together, and 
 often appear in such numbers, that to mari- 
 ners at sea they seem like a cloud that rests 
 upon the horizon. The boldest, strongest, 
 and by far the greatest number, make good 
 their intention; but many there are, who, not 
 well apprised of their own force for the un- 
 dertaking, grow weary on the way, and, quite 
 spent by the fatigues of their flight, drop 
 down into the sea, and sometimes upon deck, 
 thus becoming an easy prey to the mariner. 
 
 Of the vast quantity of water-fowl, that fre- 
 quent our shores, it is amazing to reflect how 
 few are known to breed here. The cause 
 that principally urges them to leave this coun- 
 try, seems to be not merely the want of food, 
 but the desire of a secure retreat. Our coun- 
 try is too populous for birds so shy and timid 
 as the greatest number of these are. When 
 great part of our island was a mere waste, an 
 uncultivated tract of woods and marshes, 
 many species of birds which now migrate re- 
 mained with us throughout the year. The 
 great heron and the crane, that have now for- 
 saken this country, in former times bred 
 
 familiarly in our marshes, and seemed to ani- 
 mate our fens. Their nests, like those of 
 most cloven footed water-fowl, were built on 
 the ground, and exposed to every invader. 
 But as rural economy increased, these ani- 
 mals were more and more disturbed. Before 
 they had little to fear, as the surrounding 
 marsh defended them from all the carniver- 
 ous quadrupeds, and their own strength from 
 birds of prey; but upon the intrusion of man. 
 and by a long series of alarms, they have at 
 length been obliged to seek, during the sum- 
 mer, some lonely habitation, at a safe distance 
 from every destroyer. 
 
 Of the numerous tribes of the duck kind, 
 we know of no more than five that breed here; 
 the tame swan, the tame goose, the sheldrake, 
 the eider duck, and a few of the wild ducks. 
 The rest contribute to form that amazing 
 multitude of water-fowl which annually repair 
 So the dreary lakes and deserts of Lapland 
 from the more southern countries of Europe. 
 In those extensive and solitary retreats, they 
 perform the duties of incubation and nutri- 
 tion in full security. There are few of this 
 kind that may not be traced to the northern 
 deserts, to countries of lakes, rivers, swamps, 
 and mountains, covered with thick and gloo- 
 my forests, that afford shelter during summer 
 to the tirnid animals, who live therein undis- 
 turbed security. In those regions, from the 
 thickness of the forests, the ground remains 
 moist and penetrable during the summer sea- 
 son ; the woodcock, the snipe, and other slen- 
 der-billed birds, can there feed at ease ; while 
 the web-footed birds find more than sufficient 
 plenty of food from the number of insects, which 
 swarm there to an incredible degree. The 
 days there are long; and the beautiful me- 
 teorous nights afford them every opportunity 
 of collecting so minute a food, which is pro- 
 bably of all others the most grateful. We 
 are not to be astonished, therefore, at the 
 amazing number of fowl that descend from 
 these regions at the approach of winter ; 
 numbers to which the army of Xerxes Avas 
 but trifling in comparison; and which Linnaeus 
 has observed for eight whole days and nights 
 to cover the surface of the river Calix. 
 
 This migration from the north usually be- 
 gins in September, when they quit their re- 
 treats, and disperse themselves over all the 
 
45 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 southern parts of Europe. It is not unpleas- 
 ing to observe the order of their flight; they 
 generally range themselves in a long line, or 
 they sometimes make their march angularly, 
 two lines uniting in the centre like the letter 
 V reversed. The bird which leads at the 
 point seems to cleave the air, to facilitate the 
 
 Eassage for those which are to follow. When 
 itigued with this laborious station, it falls 
 back into one of the wings of the file, while 
 another takes its place. With us they make 
 their appearance about the beginning of Oc- 
 tober, circulate first round our shores, and, 
 when compelled by severe frost, betake them- 
 selves to our lakes and rivers. Some, indeed, 
 of the web-footed fowl, of hardier constitutions 
 than the rest, abide the rigours of their nor- 
 thern climate the whole winter ; but when 
 the cold reigns there with more than usual 
 severity, they are obliged to seek for more 
 southern skies. They then repair with the 
 rest for shelter to these kingdoms; so that 
 the diver, the wild swan, and the swallow- 
 tailed sheldrake, visit our coasts but seldom, 
 and that only when compelled by the severity 
 of their winters at home. 
 
 It has been often a subject of astonishment, 
 how animals to all appearance so dull and 
 irrational should perform such long journeys, 
 should know whither to steer, and when to 
 set out upon such a great undertaking. It is 
 probable that the same instinct which governs 
 all their other actions operates also here. 
 They rather follow the weather than the 
 country ; they steer only from colder or 
 warmer climates into those of an opposite 
 nature; and finding the variations of the air as 
 they proceed in their favour, go on till they 
 find land to repose on. It cannot be supposed 
 that they have any memory of the country 
 where they might have spent a former winter: 
 it cannot be supposed that they see the 
 country to which they travel, from their 
 height in the air; since, though they mount- 
 ed for miles, the convexity of the globe would 
 intercept their view : it must therefore only 
 be, that they go on as they continue to per- 
 ceive the atmosphere more suitable to their 
 present wants and dispositions. 
 
 All this seems to be pretty plain : but there 
 is a circumstance attending the migration of 
 swallows which wraps this subject in great 
 
 obscurity. It is agreed on all hardr-, that 
 they are seen migrating into warmer climates, 
 and that in amazing numbers, at the approach 
 of the European winter. Their return into 
 Europe is also as well attested about the be- 
 ginning of summer; but we have another ac- 
 count, v> hich serves to prove that numbers of 
 them continue torpid here during the winter, 
 and, like bats, make their retreat into old 
 walls, the hollow of trees, or even sink into 
 the deepest lakes, and find security for the 
 winter season by remaining there in clusters 
 at the bottom. However this latter circum- 
 stance may be, their retreat into old walls is 
 too well authenticated to remain a doubt at 
 present. The difficulty, therefore, is to ac- 
 count for this difference in these animals thus 
 variously preparing to encounter the winter. 
 It was supposed that in some of them the 
 blood might lose its motion by the cold, and 
 that thus they were rendered torpid by the 
 severity of the season ; but Mr. Buffbn having 
 placed many of this tribe in an ice-house, 
 found that the same cold by which their blood 
 was congealed was fatal to the animal; it re- 
 mains, therefore,a doubt to this hour, whether 
 there may not be a species of swallows to all 
 external appearance like the rest, but differ- 
 ently formed within, so as to fit them for a 
 state of insensibility during the winter here. 
 It was suggested, indeed, that the swallows 
 found thus torpid, were such only as were too 
 weak to undertake the migration, or were 
 hatched too late to join the general convoy ; 
 but it was upon these that Mr. Buffon tried 
 his experiment ; it was these that died under 
 the operation. 
 
 Thus there are some birds which by mi- 
 grating make an habitation of every part of 
 the earth ; but in general every climate has 
 birds peculiar to itself. The feathered inha- 
 bitants of the temperate zone are but little 
 remarkable for the beauty of their plumage; 
 but then the smaller kinds make up for this 
 defect by the melody of their voices. The 
 birds of the torrid zone are very bright and 
 vivid in their colours; but they have scream- 
 ing voices, or are totally silent. The frigid 
 zone, on the other hand, where the seas 
 abound with fish, are stocked with birds of 
 the aquatic kind, in much greater plenty than 
 in Europe ; and these are generally clothed 
 
BIRDS IN GENERAL. 
 
 459 
 
 with a warmer coat of feathers ; or they have 
 large quantities of fat lying underneath the 
 skin, which serves to defend them from the 
 rigours of the climate. 
 
 In all countries, however, birds are a more 
 long-lived class of animals than the quadru- 
 peds or insects of the same climate. The 
 life of man himself is but short, when com- 
 pared to what some of them enjoy. It is 
 said that swans have been known to live 
 three hundred years; geese are often seen 
 to live fourscore ; while linnets and other 
 little birds, though imprisoned in cages, are 
 often found to reach fourteen or fifteen. How 
 birds, whose age of perfection is much more 
 early than that of quadrupeds, should yet 
 live comparatively so much longer, is not 
 easily to be accounted for: perhaps, as 
 their bones are lighter, and more porous, 
 than those of quadrupeds, there are fewer 
 obstructions in the animal machine; and 
 nature, thus finding more room for the opera- 
 tions of life, is carried on to a greater ex- 
 tent. 
 
 All birds in general are less than quadru- 
 peds ; that is, the greatest of one class far 
 surpass the greatest of the other in magnitude. 
 The ostrich, which is the greatest of birds, 
 bears no proportion to the elephant ; and the 
 smallest humming-bird, which is the least of 
 the class, is still far more minute than the 
 mouse. In these the extremities of nature 
 are plainly discernible; and in forming them 
 she appears to have been doubtful in her 
 operations: the ostrich, seemingly covered 
 with hair, and incapable of flight, making 
 near approaches to the quadruped class ; 
 while the humming-bird, of the size of an 
 humble-bee, and with a fluttering motion, 
 seems nearly allied to the insect. 
 
 These extremities of this class are rather 
 
 objects of human curiosity than utility: it is 
 the middle order of birds which man has 
 taken care to propagate and maintain. Of 
 those which he has taken under his protec- 
 tion, and which administer to his pleasures 
 or necessities, the greatest number seem crea- 
 tures of his formation. The variety of cli- 
 mate to which he consigns them, the food 
 with which he supplies them, and the pur- 
 poses for which he employs them, produce 
 amazing varieties, both in their colours, shape, 
 magnitude, and the taste of their flesh. Wild 
 birds are, for the most part, of the same mag- 
 nitude and shape; they still keep the prints 
 of primaeval nature strong upon them, except 
 in a few; they generally maintain their very 
 colour : but it is otherwise with domestic ani- 
 mals; they change at the will of man of the 
 tame pigeon, for instance, it is said they can 
 be bred to a feather. 
 
 As we are thus capable of influencing their 
 form and colour, so also is it frequent to see 
 equal instances of our influencing their ha- 
 bitudes, appetites, and passions. The cock, 
 for instance, is artificially formed into that 
 courage and activity which he is seen to pos- 
 sess; and many birds testify a strong attach- 
 ment to the hand that feeds them. How far 
 they are capable of instruction, is manifest 
 to those who have the care of hawks. But 
 a still more surprising instance of this was 
 seen some time ago in London : a canary 
 bird was taught to pick up the letters of the 
 alphabet, at the word of command, so as to 
 spell any person's name in company ; and 
 this the little animal did by motions from its 
 master, which were imperceptible to every 
 other spectator. Upon the whole, however, 
 they are inferior to quadrupeds in docility; 
 and seem more mechanically impelled by all 
 the power of instinct. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXVI. 
 
 OF THE DIVISION OF BIRDS. 
 
 THOUGH birds are fitted for sporting in 
 air, yet as they find their food upon the sur- 
 face of the earth, there seems a variety equal 
 to the different aliments with which it tends 
 
 NO. 39 & 40. 
 
 to supply them. The flat and burning desert, 
 the rocky clifF. the extensive fen, the stormy 
 ocean, as well as the pleasing landscape, 
 have all their peculiar inhabitants. The 
 3Y 
 
460 
 
 A HISTORY OP 
 
 most obvious distinction therefore of birds, is 
 into those that live by land and those that 
 live by water; or, in other words, into land 
 birds, and water fowl. 
 
 It is no difficult matter to distinguish land 
 from water fowl, by the legs and toes. All 
 land birds have their toes divided, without 
 any membrane or web between them ; and 
 their legs and feet serve them for the pur- 
 poses of running, grasping, or climbing. On 
 the other hand, water fowl have their legs 
 and feet formed for the purposes of wading 
 in water, or swimming on its surface. In 
 those that wade, the legs are usually long 
 and naked ; in those that swim, the toes are 
 webbed together, as we see in the feet of a 
 goose, which serve, like oars, to drive them 
 forward with greater velocity. The forma- 
 tion, therefore, of land and water fowl, is as 
 distinct as their habits ; and nature herself 
 seems to offer us this obvious distribution, in 
 methodizing animals of the feathered creation. 
 
 However, a distinction so comprehensive 
 goes but a short way in illustrating the differ- 
 ent tribes of so numerous a class. The num- 
 ber of birds already known, amounts to near- 
 ly three thousand; and every person who 
 turns his mind to these kinds of pursuits, is 
 every day adding to the catalogue. It is not 
 enough, therefore, to be able to distinguish 
 a land from a water fowl ; much more is still 
 required to be able to distinguish the dif- 
 ferent kinds of birds from each other; and 
 even the varieties in the same kind, when 
 they happen to offer. This certainly is a 
 work of great difficulty; and perhaps the at- 
 tainment will not repay the labour. The sen- 
 sible part of mankind will not withdraw all 
 their attention from more important pursuits, 
 to give it entirely up to what promises to re- 
 pay them only with a very confined species 
 of amusement. In my distribution of birds, 
 therefore, I will follow Linnaeus in the first 
 sketch of his system ; and then leave him, to 
 follow the most natural distinctions, in enu- 
 merating the different kinds that admit of a 
 history, or require a description. 
 
 Linnaeus divides all birds into six classes; 
 namely, into birds of the rapacious kind, birds 
 of the pie kind, birds of the poultry kind, birds 
 of the sparrow kind, birds of the duck kind, and 
 birds of the crane kind. The four first com- 
 
 prehend the various kinds of land birds; the 
 two last, those that belong to the water. 
 
 Birds of the rapacious kind, constitute (hat 
 class of carnivorous fowl that live by rapine. 
 He distinguishes them by their beak, which 
 is hooked, strong, and notched at the point; 
 by their legs, which are short and muscular, 
 and made for the purposes of tearing; by 
 their toes, which are strong and knobbed; 
 and their talons, which are sharp and crook- 
 ed ; by the make of their body, which is 
 muscular; and their flesh, which is impure: 
 nor are they less known by their food, which 
 consists entirely of flesh; their stomach, 
 which is membraneous; and their manners, 
 which are fierce and cruel. 
 
 Birds of the pie kind have the bill differing 
 from the former: as in those it resembled a 
 hook, destined for tearing to pieces; in these 
 it resembles a wedge, fitted for the purpose 
 of cleaving. Their legs are formed short and 
 strong, for walking; their body is slender, and 
 impure, and their food miscellaneous. They 
 nestle in trees ; and the male feeds the female 
 during the time of incubation. 
 
 Birds of the poultry kind have the bill a lit- 
 tle convex, for the purposes of gathering their 
 food. The upper chap hangs over the lower; 
 their bodies are fat and muscular, and their 
 flesh white and pure. They Jive upon grain, 
 which is moistened in the crop. They make 
 their nest on the ground, without art; they 
 lay many eggs, and use promiscuous venery. 
 
 Birds of the sparroiv kind comprehend all 
 that beautiful and vocal class that adorn our 
 fields and groves, and gratify every sense in 
 its turn. Their bills may be compared tp a 
 forceps that catches hold; their legs are 
 formed for hopping along; their bodies are 
 tender; pure in such as feed upon grain, im- 
 pure in such as live upon insects. They 
 live chiefly in trees; their nests are artifici- 
 ally made, and their amours are observed 
 with connubial fidelity. 
 
 Birds of the duck kind use their bill as a 
 kind of strainer to their food ; it is smooth, 
 covered with a skin, and nervous at the point. 
 Their legs are short, and their feet formed 
 for swimming, the toes being webbed toge- 
 ther. Their body is fat, inclining to rancidi- 
 ty. They live in waters, and chiefly build 
 their nests upon land. 
 
BIRDS IN GENERAL, 
 
 461 
 
 With respect to the order of birds that be- 
 long to the waters, those of the crane kind 
 have their bill formed for the purposes of 
 searching and examining the bottom of pools; 
 their legs are long, and formed for wading; 
 their toes are not webbed ; their thighs are 
 half naked ; their body is slender, and cover- 
 ed with a very thin skin; their tail is short, 
 and their flesh savoury. They live in lakes 
 upon animals, and they chiefly build their 
 nests upon the ground. 
 
 Such is the division of Linnasus with re- 
 spect to this class of animals ; and, at first 
 sight, it appears natural and comprehensive. 
 But we must not be deceived by appearances: 
 the student, who should imagine he was mak- 
 ing a progress in the history of nature, while 
 he was only thus making arbitrary distribu- 
 tions, would be very much mistaken. Should 
 he come to enter deeper into this naturalist's 
 plan, he would find birds the most unlike in 
 nature thrown together into the same class; 
 and find animals joined, that entirely differ in 
 climate, in habitudes, in manners, in shape, 
 colouring, and size. In such a distribution, 
 for instance, he would find the humming-bird 
 and the raven, the rail and the ostrich, joined 
 in the same family. If, when he asked what 
 sort of a creature was the humming-bird, he 
 were told that it was in the same class with 
 the carrion-crow, would he not think himself 
 imposed upon? In such a case, the only way 
 to form any idea of the animal whose history 
 he is desirous to know, is to see it ; and that 
 curiosity very few have an opportunity of 
 gratifying. The number of birds is so great, 
 that it might exhaust the patience not only of 
 the writer, but the reader, to examine them 
 all: in the present confined undertaking it 
 would certainly be impossible. I will, there- 
 fore, now attach myself to a more natural 
 method ; and, still keeping the general divi- 
 sion of Linna3us before me, enter into some 
 
 description of the most noted, or the most 
 worth knowing. 
 
 Under one or other class, as I shall treat 
 them, the reader will probably find all the 
 species, and all the varieties that demand his 
 curiosity. When the leader of any tribe is 
 described, and its history known, it will give 
 a very tolerable idea of all the species con- 
 tained under it. It is true, the reader will 
 not thus have his knowledge ranged under 
 such precise distinctions; nor can he be able 
 to say with such fluency, that the rail is of 
 the ostrich class; but, what is much more 
 material, he will have a tolerable history of 
 the bird he desires to know, or at least of 
 that which most resembles it in nature. 
 
 However, it may be proper to apprize the 
 reader that he will not here find his curiosity 
 satisfied, as in the former volumes, where we 
 often took Mr. Buffbn for our guide. Those 
 who have hitherto written the natural history 
 of birds, have in general been contented with 
 telling their names, or describing their toes 
 or their plumage. It must often, therefore, 
 happen, that instead of giving the history of 
 a bird, we must be content to entertain the 
 reader with merely its description. I will 
 therefore divide the following history of birds, 
 with Linnaeus, into six parts ; in the first of 
 which I will give such as Brisson has ranged 
 among the rapacious birds ; next those of the 
 pie kind ; and thus go on through the suc- 
 ceeding classes, till I finish with those of the 
 duck kind. But before I enter upon a syste- 
 matic detail, I will beg leave to give the his- 
 tory of three or four birds, that do not well 
 range in any system. These, from their great 
 size, are sufficiently distinguishable from the 
 rest ; and, from their incapacity of flying, lead 
 a life a good deal differing from the rest of 
 the feathered creation. The birds I mean 
 are the Ostrich, the Cassowary, the Emu, the 
 Dedo, and the Solitaire. 
 3Y 
 
462 
 
 THE OSTRICH. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXVII. 
 
 THE OSTRICH. 
 
 IN beginning with the feathered tribe, the 
 first animal (hat offers seems to unite the class 
 of quadrupeds and of birds in itself. While 
 it has the general outline and properties of a 
 bird, yet it retains many of the marks of the 
 quadruped. In appearance the ostrich re- 
 tembles the camel, and is almost as tall ; it is 
 covered with a plumage that resembles hair 
 much more nearly than feathers, and its in- 
 ternal parts bear as near a similitude to those 
 of the quadruped, as of the bird creation. It 
 may be considered, therefore, as an animal 
 made to fill up that chasm in nature which 
 separates one class of beings from another. 
 
 The ostrich is the largest of all birds. 
 Travellers affirm that they are seen as tall as 
 a man on horseback ; and even some of those 
 that have been brought into England were 
 above seven feet high. The head and bill 
 somewhat resemble those of a duck ; and the 
 neck may be likened to that of a swan, but 
 that it is much longer; the legs and thighs 
 resemble those of a hen ; though the whole 
 appearance bears a strong resemblance to 
 that of a camel. But to be more particular : 
 it is usually seven feet high from the top of 
 the head to the ground ; but from the back it 
 is only four ; so that the head and neck are 
 above three feet long. From the top of the 
 head to the rump, when the neck is stretched 
 out in a right line, it is six feet long, and the 
 tail is about a foot more. One of the wings, 
 without the feathers, is a foot and a half; 
 and being stretched out, with the feathers, is 
 three feet. 
 
 The plumage is much alike in all; that is, 
 generally black and white ; though some of 
 them are said to be gray. The greatest 
 feathers are at the extremities of the wings 
 and tail, and the largest are generally white. 
 The next row is black and white ; and of the 
 small feathers, on the back and belly, some 
 are white and others black. There are no 
 feathers on the sides, nor yet on the thighs, 
 
 nor under the wings. The lower part of the 
 neck, about half way, is covered with still 
 smaller feathers than those on the belly and 
 back; and those, like the former, also are of 
 different colours. 
 
 All these feathers are of the same kind, and 
 peculiar to the ostrich ; for other birds have 
 several sorts, some of which are soft and 
 downy, and others hard and strong. Ostrich 
 feathers are almost all as soft as down, being 
 utterly unfit to serve the animal for flying, and 
 still less adapted to be a proper defence 
 against external injury. The feathers of other 
 birds have the webs broader on one srde than 
 the other, but those of the ostrich have their 
 shaft exactly in the middle. The upper part 
 of the head and neck are covered with a 
 very fine, clear, white hair, that shines like 
 the bristles of a hog; and in some places 
 there are small tufts of it, consisting of about 
 twelve hairs, which grow from a single shaft 
 about the thickness of a pin. 
 
 At the end of each wing, there is a kind of 
 spur, almost like the quill of a porcupine. It 
 is an inch long, being hollow, and of a horny 
 substance. There are two of these on each 
 wing ; the largest of which is at the extremity 
 of the bone of the wing, and the other a foot 
 lower. The neck seems to be more slender 
 in proportion to that of other birds, from its 
 not being furnished with feathers. The skin 
 in this part is of a livid flesh-colour, which 
 some improperly would have to be blue. 
 The bill is short and pointed, and two inches 
 and a half at the beginning. The external 
 form of the eye is like that of man, the upper 
 eye-lid being adorned with eye-lashes, which 
 are longer than those on the lid below. The 
 tongue is small, very short, and composed of 
 cartilages, ligaments, and membranes, inter- 
 mixed with fleshy fibres. In some it is about 
 an inch long, and very thick at the bottom. 
 In others it is but half an inch, being a little 
 forked at the end. 
 
THE OSTRICH. 
 
 463 
 
 The thighs are very fleshy and large, being 
 covered with a white skin, inclining to red- 
 ness, and wrinkled in the manner of a net, 
 whose meshes will admit the end of a finger. 
 Some have very small feathers here and there 
 on the thighs ; and others again have neither 
 feathers nor wrinkles. What are called the 
 legs of birds, in this are covered before with 
 large scales. The end of the foot is cloven, 
 and has two very large toes, which, like the 
 leg, are covered with scales. These toes are 
 of unequal sizes. The largest, which is on 
 the inside, is seven inches long, including the 
 claw, which is near three-fourths of an inch 
 in length, and almost as broad. The other 
 toe is but four inches long, and is without a 
 claw. 
 
 The internal parts of this animal are form- 
 ed with no less surprising peculiarity. At 
 the top of the breast, under the skin, the fat 
 is two inches thick; and on the fore part of 
 the belly it is as hard as suet, and about two 
 inches and a half thick in some places. It 
 has two distinct stomachs. The first, which 
 is lowermost, in its natural situation some- 
 what resembles the crop in other birds ; but 
 it is considerably larger than the other sto- 
 mach, and is furnished with strong muscular 
 fibres, as well circular as longitudinal. The 
 second stomach, or gizzard, has outwardly 
 the shape of the stomach of a man ; and, upon 
 opening, is always found filled with a variety 
 of discordant substances; hay, grass, barley, 
 beans, bones, and stones, some of which ex- 
 ceed in size a pullet's egg. The kidneys are 
 eight inches long and two broad, and differ 
 from those of other birds in not being divid- 
 ed into lobes. The heart and lungs are se- 
 parated by a midriff, as in quadrupeds, and 
 the parts of generation also bear a very strong 
 resemblance and analogy. 
 
 Such is the structure of this animal, form- 
 ing the shade that unites birds and quadru- 
 peds; and from this structure its habits and 
 manners are entirely peculiar. It is a native 
 only of the torrid regions of Africa, and has 
 long been celebrated by those who have had 
 occasion to mention the animals of that region. 
 Its flesh is proscribed in scripture as unfit to 
 be eaten ; and most of the ancient writers 
 describe it as well known in their times. 
 Like the race of the elephant, it is transmit- 
 
 never 
 
 ted down without mixture; and has 
 been known to breed out of that country 
 which first produced it. It seems formed to 
 live among the sandy and burning deserts of 
 the torrid zone; and, as in some measure it 
 owes its birth to their genial influence, so it 
 seldom migrates into tracts more mild or 
 more fertile. As that is the peculiar coun- 
 try of the elephant, the rhinoceros, and ca- 
 mel, so it may readily be supposed capable 
 of affording a retreat to the ostrich. They 
 inhabit, from preference, the most solitary 
 and horrid deserts, where there are few ve- 
 getables to clothe the surface of the earth, 
 and where the rain never comes to refresh it. 
 The Arabians assert that the ostrich never 
 drinks; and the place of its habitation seems 
 to confirm the assertion. In these formidable 
 regions, ostriches are seen in large flocks, 
 which to the distant spectator appear like a 
 regiment of cavalry, and have often alarmed 
 a whole caravan. There is no desert, how 
 barren soever, but what is capable of supply- 
 ing these animals with provision ; they eat 
 almost every thing; and these barren tracts 
 are thus doubly grateful, as they afford both 
 food and security. The ostrich is of all other 
 animals the most voracious. It will devour 
 leather, glass, hair, iron, stones, or any thing 
 that is given. Nor are its powers of digestion 
 less in such things as are digestible. Those 
 substances which the coats of the stomach 
 cannot soften, pass whole ; so that glass, 
 stones, or iron, are excluded in the form in 
 which they were devoured. All metals, in- 
 deed, which are swallowed by any animal, 
 lose a part of their weight, and often the ex- 
 tremities of their figure, from the action of 
 the juices of the stomach upon their surface. 
 A quarter pistole, which was swallowed by 
 a duck, lost seven grains of its weight in the 
 gizzard before it was voided ; and it is pro- 
 bable that a still greater diminution of weight 
 would happen in the stomach of an ostrich. 
 Considered in this light, therefore, this ani- 
 mal may be said to digest iron; but such sub- 
 stances seldom remain long enough in the 
 stomach of any animal to undergo so tedious 
 a dissolution. However this be, the ostrich 
 swallows almost every thing presented to it. 
 Whether this be from the necessity which 
 smaller birds are under of picking up gravel 
 
L64 
 
 THE OSTRICH. 
 
 to keep the coats of their stomach asunder, 
 or whether it be from a want of distinguish- 
 ing by the taste what substances are fit and 
 what incapable of digestion; certain it is, 
 that in the ostrich dissected by Ranby there 
 appeared such a quantity of heterogeneous 
 substances, that it was wonderful how any 
 animal could digest such an overcharge of 
 nourishment. Valisnieri also found the first 
 stomach filled with a quantity of incongruous 
 substances; grass, nuts, cords, stones, glass, 
 brass, copper, iron, tin, lead, and wood ; a 
 piece of stone was found among the rest, that 
 weighed more than a pound. He saw one of 
 these animals that was killed by devouring a 
 quantity of quick-lime. It would seem that 
 the ostrich is obliged to fill up the great ca- 
 pacity of its stomach, in order to be at ease ; 
 but that nutritious substances not occurring, 
 it pours in whatever offers to supply the void. 
 
 In their native deserts, however, it is pro- 
 bable they live chiefly upon vegetables, where 
 they lead an inoffensive and social life ; the 
 male, as Thevenot assures us, assorting with 
 the female with connubial fidelity. They are 
 said to be very much inclined to venery ; 
 and the make of the parts in both sexes seems 
 to confirm the report. It is probable also 
 they copulate, like other birds, by compres- 
 sion; and they lay very large eggs, some of 
 them being above five inches in diameter, and 
 weighing above fifteen pounds. These eggs 
 have a very hard shell, somewhat resembling 
 those of the crocodile, except that those of 
 the latter are less and rounder. 
 
 The season for laying depends on the cli- 
 mate where the animal is bred. In the north- 
 ern parts of Africa, this season is about the 
 beginning of July; in the south, it is about 
 the latter end of December. These birds are 
 very prolific, and lay generally from forty to 
 fifty eggs at one clutch. It has been com- 
 monly reported that the female deposits them 
 in the sand; and, covering them up, leaves 
 them to be hatched by the heat of the climate, 
 and then permits the young to shift for them- 
 selves. Very little of this, however, is true: 
 no bird has a stronger affection for her young 
 than the ostrich, nor none watches her eggs 
 with greater assiduity. It happens, indeed, 
 in those hot climates, that there is less ne- 
 cessity for the continual incubation of the fe- 
 
 j male ; and she more frequently leaves her 
 | eggs, which are in no fear of being chilled by 
 the weather: but though she sometimes for- 
 sakes them by day, she always carefully 
 broods over them by night; and Kolben, who 
 has seen great numbers of them at the Cape 
 of Good Hope, affirms that they sit on their 
 eggs like other birds, and that the male arid 
 female take this office by turns, as he had 
 frequent opportunities of observing. Nor is 
 it more true what is said of their forsaking 
 their young after they are excluded the shell. 
 On the contrary, the young ones are not even 
 able to walk for several days after they are 
 hatched. During this time, the old ones are 
 very assiduous in supplying them with grass, 
 and very careful to defend them from danger; 
 nay, they encounter every danger in their de- 
 fence. It was a way of taking them among 
 the ancients, to plant a number of sharp 
 stakes round the ostrich's nest in her absence, 
 upon which she pierced herself at her return. 
 The young, when brought forth, are of an ash- 
 colour the first year, and are covered with 
 feathers all over. But, in time, these feathers 
 drop; and those parts which are covered as- 
 sume a different aaitJ more becoming plummy. 
 The beauty of a part of this plumage, par- 
 ticularly the long feathers that compose the 
 wings and tail, is the chief reason that man 
 has been so active in pursuing this harmless 
 bird to its deserts, and hunting it with no 
 small degree of expense and labour. The 
 ancients used those plumes in their helmets; 
 the ladies of the East make them an orna- 
 ment in their dress; and, among us, our un- 
 dertakers and our fine gentlemen still make 
 use of them, to decorate their hearses and 
 their hats, those feathers which are pluck- 
 ed from the animal while alive, are much 
 more valued than those taken when dead ; 
 the latter being dry, light, and subject to be 
 worm-eaten. 
 
 Beside the value of their plumage, some of 
 the savage nations of Africa hunt them also 
 for their flesh, which they consider as a 
 dainty. They sometimes also breed these 
 birds tame, to eat the young ones, of which 
 the female is said to be the greatest delicacy. 
 Some nations have obtained the name of 
 Struthophagi, or ostrich-eaters, from their 
 peculiar fondness for this food ; and even the 
 
THE OSTRICH. 
 
 Romans themselves were not averse to it. 
 Apicius gives us a receipt for making sauce 
 for the ostrich; and Heliogabalus is noted for 
 having dressed the brains of six hundred 
 ostriches in one dish ; for it was his custom 
 never to eat but of one dish in a day, but 
 that was an expensive one. Even among the 
 Europeans now, the eggs of the ostrich are 
 said to be well tasted, and extremely nour- 
 ishing; but they are too scarce to be fed 
 upon, although a single egg be a sufficient 
 entertainment for eight men. 
 
 As the spoils of the ostrich are thus valua- 
 ble, it is not to be wondered at that man has 
 become their most assiduous pursuer. For 
 this purpose, the Arabians train up their best 
 and fleetest horses, and hunt the ostrich still 
 in view. Perhaps of all other varieties of the 
 chace, this, though the most laborious, is yet 
 the most entertaining. As soon as the hunter 
 comes within sight of his prey, he puts on his 
 horse with a gentle gallop, so as to keep the 
 ostrich still in sight; yet not so as to terrify 
 him from the plain into the mountains. Of 
 all known animals that make use of their legs 
 in running, the ostrich is by far the swiftest ; 
 upon observing himself therefore pursued at 
 a distance, he begins to run at first but gently; 
 either insensible of his danger, or sure of 
 escaping. In this situation he somewhat re- 
 sembles a man at full speed ; his wings, like 
 two arms, keep working with a motion cor- 
 respondent to that of his legs: and his speed 
 would very soon snatch him from the view of 
 his pursuers; but, unfortunately for the silly 
 creature, instead of going off in a direct line, 
 he takes his course in circles ; while the hun- 
 ters still make a small course within, relieve 
 each other, meet him at unexpected turns, 
 and keep him thus still employed, still follow- 
 ed for two or three days together. At last, 
 spent with fatigue and famine, and finding all 
 power of escape impossible, he endeavours 
 to hide himself from those enemies he cannot 
 avoid, and covers his head in the sand, or the 
 first thicket he meets. Sometimes, however, 
 he attempts to face his pursuers ; and, though 
 in general the most gentle animal in nature, 
 wh-n drivento desperation, he defendshimself 
 with his beak, his wings, and his feet. Such is 
 the force of his motion, that a man would be 
 utterly unable to withstand him in the shock. 
 
 The Struthophagi have another method of 
 taking this bird ; they cover themselves with 
 an ostrich's skin, and passing up an arm 
 through the neck, thus counterfeit all the 
 motions of this animal. By this artifice they 
 approach the ostrich, which becomes an easy 
 prey. He is sometimes also taken by dogs 
 and nets : but the most usual way is that 
 mentioned above. 
 
 When the Arabians have thus taken an 
 ostrich, they cut its throat, and making a 
 ligature below the opening, they shake the 
 bird, as one would rince a barrel ; then taking 
 off* the ligature, there runs out from the wound 
 in the throat a considerable quantity of blood, 
 mixed with the fat of the animal ; and this is 
 considered one of their greatest dainties. 
 They next flay the bird ; and of the skin, 
 which is strong and thick, sometimes make a 
 kind of vest, which answers the purposes of 
 a cuirass and a buckler. 
 
 There are others who, more compassionate 
 or more provident, do not kill their captive, 
 but endeavour to tame it, for the purposes of 
 supplying those feathers which are in so great 
 request. The inhabitants of Dara and Lybia 
 breed up whole flocks of them, and they are 
 tamed with very little trouble. But it is not 
 for their feathers alone that they are prized 
 in this domestic state ; they are often ridden 
 upon, and used as horses. Moore assures us, 
 that at Joar he saw a man travelling upon an 
 ostrich ; and Adanson asserts, that, at the 
 factory of Podore, he had two ostriches, which 
 were then young, the strongest of which ran 
 swifter than the best English racer, although 
 he carried two negroes on his back. As 
 soon as the animal perceived that it was 
 loaded, it set off running with all its force, 
 and made sevaral circuits round the village; 
 till at length the peeple were obliged to stop 
 it, by barring up the way. How far this 
 strength and swiftness may be useful to man- 
 kind, even in a polished state, is a matter 
 that perhaps deserves inquiry. Posterity 
 may avail themselves of this creature's 
 abilities; and riding upon an ostrich may 
 one day become the favourite, as it most 
 certainly is the swiftest, mode of conveyance. 
 
 The parts of this animal are said to be con- 
 vertible to many salutary purposes in medi- 
 cine. The fat is said to be emollient and re- 
 
466 
 
 laxing; that while it relaxes the 
 fortifies the nervous system ; and 
 plied to the region of the loins, it 
 pains of the stone in the kidneys, 
 of the egg powdered, and given 
 quantities, is said to be useful in 
 
 THE EMU. 
 
 tendons, it 
 being ap- 
 abates the 
 The shell 
 in proper 
 promoting 
 
 urine, and dissolving the stone in the bladder. 
 The substance of the egg itself is thought to 
 be peculiarly nourishing : however, Galen, in 
 mentioning this, asserts, that the eggs of hens 
 and pheasants are good to be eaten; those 
 of geese and ostriches are the worst of all. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXV1II. 
 
 THE EMU. 
 
 OF this bird, which many call the American 
 Ostrich, but little is certainly known. It is 
 an inhabitant of the New Continent ; and the 
 travellers who have mentioned it, seem to 
 have been more solicitous in proving its af- 
 finity to the ostrich, than in describing those 
 peculiarities which distinguish it from all 
 others of the feathered creation. 
 
 It is chiefly found in Guiana, along the 
 banks of the Oroonoko, in the inland provin- 
 ces of Brasil and Chili, and the vast forests 
 that border on the mouth of the river Plata. 
 Many other parts of South America were 
 known to have them ; but as men multiplied, 
 these large and timorous birds either fell be- 
 neath their superior power, or fled from their 
 'vicinity. 
 
 The Emu, though not so large as the 
 ostrich, is only second to it in magnitude. 
 It is by much the largest bird in the New 
 Continent ; and is generally found to be six 
 feet high, measuring from its head to the 
 ground. Its legs are three feet long ; and its 
 thigh is near as thick as that of a man. The 
 toes differ from those of the ostrich ; as there 
 are three in the American bird, and but two 
 in the former. Its neck is long, its head small, 
 and the bill flatted, like that of the ostrich; 
 but in all other respects it more resembles the 
 Cassowary, a large bird, to be described 
 hereafter. The form of the body appears 
 round ; the wings are short, and entirely un- 
 fitted for flying, and it wants a tail. It is 
 covered from the back and rump with long 
 feathers, which fall backward, and cover the 
 anus ; these feathers are gray upon the back, 
 and white on the belly. It goes very swiftly, 
 
 and seems assisted in its motion by a kind of 
 tubercle behind, like an heel, upon which, on 
 plain ground, it treads very securely ; in its 
 course it uses a very odd kind of action, lift- 
 ing up one wing, which it keeps elevated for 
 a time ; till letting it drop, it lifts up the other. 
 What the bird's intention may be in thus 
 keeping only one wing up, is not easy to dis- 
 cover; whether it makes use of this as a sail to 
 catch the wind, or whether as a rudder to turn 
 its course, in order to avoid the arrows of the 
 Indians, yet remains to be ascertained : how- 
 ever this be, the emu runs with such swiftness, 
 that the fleetest dogs are thrown out in the 
 pursuit. One of them, finding itself surround- 
 ed by the hunters, darted among the dogs 
 with such fury, that they made way to avoid 
 its rage ; and it escaped, by its amazing 
 velocity, in safety to the mountains. 
 
 As this bird is but little known, so travellers 
 have given a loose to their imaginations in 
 describing some of its actions, which they 
 were conscious could not be easily contra- 
 dicted. This animal, says Nierenberg, is 
 very peculiar in the hatching of its young. 
 The male compels twenty or thirty of the 
 females to lay their eggs in one nest ; he then, 
 when they have done laying, chases them 
 away, and places himself upon the eggs; 
 however, he takes the singular precaution of 
 laying two of the number aside, which he 
 does not sit upon. When the young ones 
 come forth, these two eggs are addled ; which 
 the male having foreseen, breaks one, and 
 then the other, upon which multitudes of 
 flies are found to settle ; and these supply 
 the young brood with a sufficiency of pro- 
 
THE CASSOWARY. 
 
 467 
 
 vision, till they are able to shift for them- 
 selves. 
 
 On the other hand, Wafer asserts, that he 
 has seen great quantities of this animal's eggs 
 on the desert shores, north of the river Plata; 
 where they were buried in the sand, in order 
 to be hatched by the heat of the climate. 
 Both this, as well as the preceding account, may 
 be doubted ; and it is more probable that it 
 was the crocodile's eggs which Wafer had seen, 
 which are undoubtedly hatched in that manner. 
 
 When the young ones are hatched, they 
 are familiar, and follow the first person they 
 meet. I have been followed myself, says 
 
 Wafer, by many of these young ostriches; 
 which, at first, are extremely harmless and 
 simple : but as they grow older, they become 
 more cunning and distrustful ; and run so 
 swift, that a grayhound can scarcely overtake 
 them. Their flesh, in general, is good to be 
 eaten; especially if they be young. It would 
 be no difficult matter to rear up flocks of 
 these animals tame, particularly as they are 
 naturally so familiar: and they might be 
 found to answer domestic purposes, like the 
 hen or the turkey. Their maintenance could 
 not be expensive, if, as Narborough says, 
 they live entirely upon grass. 
 
 CHAPTER LXX1X. 
 
 THE CASSOWARY. 
 
 THE Cassowary is a bird which was first 
 brought into Europe by the Dutch, from Java, 
 in the East Indies, in which part of the world 
 it is only to be found. Next to the preceding, 
 it is the largest and the heaviest of the feather- 
 ed species. 
 
 The cassowary, though not so large as the 
 former, yet appears more bulky to the eye ; 
 its body being nearly equal, and its neck and 
 legs much thicker and stronger in proportion; 
 this conformation gives it an air of strength 
 and force, which the fierceness and singularity 
 of its countenance conspire to render formi- 
 dable. It is five feet and a half long, from the 
 point of the bill to the extremity of the claws. 
 The legs are two feet and a half high, from 
 the belly to the end of the claws. The head 
 and neck together are a foot and a half; and 
 the largest toe, including the claw, is five in- 
 ches long. The claw alone of the least toe, 
 is three inches and a half in length. The 
 wing is so small, that it does not appear ; it 
 being hid under the feathers of the back. In 
 other birds, a part of the feathers serve for 
 flight, and are different from those that serve 
 for merely covering ; but in the cassowary, 
 all the feathers are of the same kind, and out- 
 wardly of the same colour. They are gene- 
 rally double; having two long shafts, which 
 
 NO. 39 & 40. 
 
 grow out of a short one, which is fixed in the 
 skin. Those that are double, are always of 
 an unequal length ; for some are fourteen 
 inches long, particularly on the rump; while 
 others are not above three. The beards that 
 adorn the stem or shaft, are, from about half 
 way to the end, very long, and as thick as a 
 horse hair, without being subdivided into 
 fibres. The stem or shaft is flat, shining, 
 black, and knotted below; and from each 
 knot there proceeds a beard : likewise the 
 beards at the end of the large feathers are 
 perfectly black ; arid towards the root of a 
 gray tawny colour ; shorter, more soft, and 
 throwing out fine fibres like down ; so that 
 nothing appears except the ends, which are 
 hard and black ; because the other part, 
 composed of down, is quite covered. There 
 are feathers on the head and neck ; but they 
 are so short and thinly sown, that the bird's 
 skin appears naked, except towards the hind- 
 er part of the head, where they are a little 
 longer. The feathers which adorn the rump 
 are extremely thick; but do not differ, in 
 other respects, from the rest, excepting their 
 being longer. The wings, when they are de- 
 prived of their feathers, are but three inches 
 long ; and the feathers are like those on other 
 parts of the bodv. The ends of the wings 
 3Z 
 
468 
 
 THE CASSOWARY. 
 
 are adorned with five prickles, of different 
 lengths and thickness, which bend like a 
 bow ; these are hollow from the roots to the 
 very points, having only that slight substance 
 within, which all quills are known to have. 
 The longest of these prickles is eleven inches ; 
 and it is a quarter of an inch in diameter at 
 the root, being thicker there than towards 
 the extremity; the point seems broken off. 
 
 The part, however, which most distinguish- 
 es this animal is the head : this, though small, 
 like that of an ostrich, does not fail to inspire 
 some degree of terror. It is bare of feathers, 
 and is in a manner armed with an helmet of 
 horny substance, that covers it from the root 
 of the bill to near half the head backwards. 
 This helmet is black before and yellow be- 
 hind. Its substance is very hard, being form- 
 ed by the elevation of the bone of the skull ; 
 and it consists of several plates, one over 
 another, like the horn of an ox. Some have 
 supposed that this was shed every year with 
 the feathers ; but the most probable opinion 
 is, that it only exfoliates slowly like the beak. 
 To the peculiar oddity of this natural armour 
 may be added the colour of the eye in this 
 animal, which is a bright yellow, and the 
 globe being above an inch and ahalf in diame- 
 ter, gives it an air equally fierce and extra- 
 ordinary. At the bottom of the upper eye-lid, 
 there is a row of small hairs, over which 
 there is another row of black hair, which 
 look pretty much like an eye-brow. The 
 lower eye-lid, which is the largest of the two, 
 is furnished also with plenty of black hair. 
 The hole of the ear is very large and open, 
 being only covered with small black feathers. 
 The sides of the head, about the eye and ear, 
 being destitute of any covering, are blue, ex- 
 cept the middle of the lower eye-lid, which 
 is white. The part of the bill which answers 
 to the upper jaw in other animals, is very 
 hard at the edges above, and the extremity 
 of it like that of a turkey-cock. The end of 
 the lower mandible is slightly notched, and 
 the whole is of a grayish brown, except a 
 green spot on each side. As the beak admits 
 a very wide opening, this contributes not a 
 little to the bird's menacing appearance. 
 The neck is of a violet colour, inclining to 
 that of a slate ; and it is red behind in several 
 places, but chiefly in the middle. About the 
 
 middle of the neck before, at the rise of the 
 large feathers, there are two processes form- 
 ed by the skin, which resemble somewhat 
 the gills of a cock, but that they are blue as 
 well as red. The skin which covers the 
 fore part of the breast, on which this bird 
 leans and rests, is hard, callous, and without 
 feathers. The thighs and legs are covered 
 with feathers, and are extremely thick, strong, 
 straight, and covered with scales of several 
 shapes; but the legs are thicker a little 
 above the loot than in any other place. The 
 toes are likewise covered with scales, and 
 are but three in number; for that which 
 should be behind is wanting. The claws are 
 of a hard solid substance, black without, and 
 white within. 
 
 The internal parts are equally remarkable. 
 The cassowary unites with the double sto- 
 mach of animals that live upon vegetables, 
 the short intestines of those that live upon 
 flesh. The intestines of the cassowary are 
 thirteen timesshorter than thoseof the ostrich. 
 The heart is very small, being but an inch 
 and a half long, arid an inch broad at the base. 
 Upon the whole, it has the head of a warrior, 
 the eye of a lion, the defence of a poicupine, 
 and the swiftness of a courser. 
 
 Thus formed for a life of hostility, for 
 terrifying olhers, and for its own defence, it 
 might be expected that the cassowary was one 
 of the most fierce and terrible animals of the 
 or ation. But nothing is so opposite to its 
 natunil character, nothing so different from the 
 life it is contented to lead. It never attacks 
 others ; and, instead of the bill, when attacked, 
 it rather makes use of its legs, and kicks like 
 a horse, or runs against its pursuer, beats him 
 down, and treads him to the ground. 
 
 The manner of going of this animal is not 
 less extraordinary than its appearance. In- 
 stead of going directly forward, it seems to 
 kick up behind with one leg, and then making 
 a bound onward with the other, it goes with 
 such prodigious velocity, that the swiftest racer 
 would be left far behind. 
 
 The same degree of voraciousness which 
 we perceive in the ostrich, obtains as strongly 
 here. The cassowary swallows every tiling 
 that comes within the capacity of its gullet. 
 The Dutch assert, that it can devour not only 
 glass, iron, and stones, but even live on, burn- 
 
THE DODO. 
 
 469 
 
 ing coals, without testifying the smallest fear, 
 or feeling the least injury. It is said, that 
 the passage ot' the food through its gullet is. 
 performed so speedily, that even the very 
 eggs which it has swallowed whole, pass 
 through it unbroken, in the same form they 
 went down. In fact, the alimentary canal of 
 this animal, as was observed above, is ex- 
 tremely short ; and it may happen that many 
 kinds of food are indigestible in its stomach, 
 as wheat or currants are to a man when 
 swallowed whole. 
 
 The cassowary's eggs are of a gray ash 
 colour, inclining to green. They are not so 
 large nor so round as those of the ostrich. 
 They are marked with a number of little 
 tubercles of a deep green, and the shell is 
 not very thick. The largest of these is found 
 to be fifteen inches round one way, and about 
 twelve the other. 
 
 The southern parts of the most eastern 
 Indies seems to be the natural climate of the 
 cassowary. His domain, if we may so call it, 
 begins where that of the ostrich terminates. 
 The latter has never been found beyond the 
 
 Ganges; while the cassowary is never seen 
 nearer than the islands of Banda, Sumatra, 
 Java, the Molucca Islands, and the corres- 
 ponding parts of the continent. Yet even 
 here this animal seems not to have multiplied 
 in any considerable degree, as we find one 
 of the kings of Java making a present of one 
 of these birds to the captain of a Dutch ship, 
 considering it as a very great rarity. The 
 ostrich, that has kept in the desert and un- 
 peopled regions of Africa, is still numerous, 
 and the unrivalled tenant of its own inhospi- 
 table climate. But the cassowary, that is the 
 inhabitant of a more peopled and polished 
 region, is growing scarcer every day. It is 
 thus that in proportion as man multiplies, all 
 the savage and noxious animals fly before 
 him : at his approach they quit their ancient 
 habitations, how adapted soever they may 
 be to their natures, and seek a more peace- 
 able, though barren, retreat : where they 
 willingly exchange plenty for freedom : 
 and encounter all the dangers of famine, to 
 avoid the oppressions of an unrelenting de- 
 stroyer. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXX. 
 
 THE DODO. 
 
 MANKIND have generally made swiftness 
 the attribute of birds ; but the dodo has no 
 title to this distinction. Instead of exciting 
 the idea of swiftness by its appearance, it 
 seems to strike the imagination as a thing the 
 most unwieldy and inactive of all nature. Its 
 body is massive, almost round, and covered 
 Avith gray feathers: it is just barely support- 
 ed upon two short thick legs, like pillars, 
 while its head and neck rise from it in a man- 
 ner truly grotesque. The neck, thick and 
 pursy, is joined to the head, which consists 
 of two great chaps, that open far behind the 
 eyes, which are large, black, and prominent; 
 so that the animal, when it gapes, seems to be 
 all mouth. The bill, therefore, is of an ex- 
 traordinary length, not flat and broad, but 
 thick, and of a bluish white, sharp at the end, 
 
 and each chap crooked in opposite directions. 
 They resemble two pointed spoons that are 
 laid together by the backs. From all this 
 results a stupid and voracious physiognomy ; 
 which is still more increased by a bordering 
 of feathers round the root of the beak, and 
 which gives the appearance of a hood or 
 cowl, and finishes this picture of stupid de- 
 formity. Bulk, which in other animals implies 
 strength, in this only contributes to inactivity. 
 The ostrich, or the cassowary, are no more 
 able to fly than the animal before us; but 
 then they supply that defect by their speed 
 in running. The dodo seems weighed down 
 by its oAvn heaviness, and has scarcely 
 strength to urge itself forward. It seems 
 among birds what the sloth is among quadru- 
 peds, an unresisting thing, equally incapable 
 3Z* 
 
170 
 
 THE DODO. 
 
 of flight or defence. It is furnished with 
 wing*,covered with soft ash-coloured feathers, 
 but they are too short to assist it in flying. 
 It is furnished with a tail, with a few small 
 curled feathers; but this tail is dispropor- 
 tioned and displaced. Its legs are too short 
 for running, and its body too fat to be strong. 
 One would take it for a tortoise that had 
 supplied itself with the feathers of a bird; 
 and that thus dressed out with the instru- 
 ments of flight, it was only still the more un- 
 wieldy. 
 
 This bird is a native of the Isle of Francs; 
 and the Dutch, who first discovered it there, 
 called it, in their language, the nauseous bird, 
 as well from its disgusting figure as from the 
 bad taste of its flesh. However, succeeding 
 observers contradict the first report, and as- 
 sert that its flesh is good and wholesome eat- 
 ing. It is a silly simple bird, as may very 
 
 well be supposed from its figure, and is very 
 easily taken. Three or four dodos are 
 enough to dine a hundred men. 
 
 Whether the dodo be the same bird with 
 that which some travellers have described 
 under the bird of Nazareth, yet remains un- 
 certain. The country from whence they both 
 come is the same ; their incapacity of flying 
 is the same ; the form of the wings and 
 body in both are similar ; but the chief dif- 
 ference given is in the colour of the feathers, 
 which in the female of the bird of Nazareth 
 are said to be extremely beautiful ; and in the 
 length of their legs, which in the dodo are 
 short; in the other, are described as long. 
 Time and future observation must clear up 
 these doubts ; and the testimony of a single 
 witness, who shall have seen both, will throw 
 more light on the subject than the reasonings 
 of a hundred philosophers. 
 
A HISTORY OF RAPACIOUS BIRDS. 
 
 471 
 
 OF RAPACIOUS BIRDS. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXXI. 
 
 OF RAPACIOUS BIRDS IN GENERAL. 
 
 THERE seems to obtain a general resem- 
 blance in all the classes of nature. As among 
 quadrupeds, a part were seen to live upon the 
 vegetable productions of the earth, and another 
 part upon the flesh of each other ; so among 
 birds, some live upon vegetable food, and 
 others by rapine, destroying all such as want 
 force or swiftness to procure their safety. By 
 thus peopling the woods with animals of dif- 
 ferent dispositions, nature has wisely provided 
 for the multiplication of life ; since, could we 
 suppose that there were as many animals pro- 
 duced as there were vegetables supplied to 
 sustain them, yet there might still be another 
 class of animals formed, which could find a 
 sufficient sustenance by feeding upon such of 
 the vegetable feeders as happened to fall by 
 the course of nature. By this contrivance, a 
 greater number will be sustained upon the 
 whole ; for the numbers would be but very 
 thin were every creature a candidate for the 
 same food. Thus, by supplying a variety of 
 appetites, nature has also multiplied life in her 
 productions. 
 
 In thus varying thnr appetites, nature has 
 also varied the form of the animal ; and while 
 she has given some an instinctive passion for 
 animal food, she has also furnished them with 
 powers to obtain it. All land-birds of the ra- 
 pacious kinds are furnished with a large head, 
 and a strong crooked beak, notched at the end, 
 for the purpose of tearing their prey. They 
 
 The animals of this order are all carnivorous ; they 
 associate in pairs, build their nests in the most lofty situa- 
 tions, and produce generally four young ones at a brood : 
 and the female is mostly larger than the male. They 
 Consist of vultures, eagles, hawks, and owls. 
 
 have strong short legs, and sharp crooked 
 talons, for the purpose of seizing it. Their 
 bodies are formed for war, being fibrous and 
 muscular ; and their wings for swiftness of 
 flight, being well feathered and expansive. 
 The sight of such as prey by day is astonish- 
 ingly quick ; and such as ravage by night, 
 have their sight so fitted as to see objects in 
 darkness with extreme precision. 
 
 Their internal parts are equally formed for 
 the food they seek for. Their stomach is 
 simple and membranous, and wrapt in fat to 
 increase the powers of digestion ; and their 
 intestines are short and glandular. As their 
 food is succulent and juicy, they want no 
 length of intestinal tube to form it into proper 
 nourishment. Their food is flesh; which does 
 not require a slow digestion to be converted 
 into a similitude of substance to their own. 
 
 Thus formed for war, they lead a life of 
 solitude and rapacity. They inhabit by choice 
 the most lonely places, and the most desert 
 mountains. They make their nests in the 
 clefts of rocks, and on the highest and most 
 inaccessible trees of the forest. Whenever 
 they appear in the cultivated plain or the 
 warbling grove, it is only for the purposes of 
 depredation ; and are gloomy intruders on the 
 general joy of the landscape. They spread 
 terror wherever they approach : all that variety 
 of music which but a moment before enliven- 
 ed the grove, at their appearing is instantly at 
 an end : every order of lesser birds seek for 
 safety, either by concealment or flight ; and 
 some are even driven to take protection with 
 man, to avoid their less merciful pursuers. 
 
 It would indeed be fatal to all the smaller 
 race of birds, if, as they are weaker than all. 
 
472 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 they were also pursued by all; but it is 
 contrived wisely for their safety, that every 
 order of carnivorous birds seek only for such 
 as are of the size most approaching their own. 
 The eagle flies at the bustard or the pheasant; 
 the sparrow-hawk pursues the thrush and the 
 linnet. Nature has provided that each species 
 should make war only on such as are furnish- 
 ed with adequate means of escape. The 
 smallest birds avoid their pursuers by the ex- 
 treme agility, rather than the swiftness of their 
 flight ; for every order would soon be at an 
 end, if the eagle, to its own swiftness of wing, 
 added the versatility of the sparrow. 
 
 Another circumstance which tends to render 
 the tyranny of these animals more supportable, 
 is, that they are less fruitful than other birds; 
 breeding but few at a time. Those of the 
 larger kind seldom produce above four eggs, 
 often but two ; those of the smaller kinds, 
 never above six or seven. The pigeon, it is 
 true, which is their prey, never breeds above 
 two at a time ; but then she breeds every 
 month in the year. The carnivorous kinds 
 only breed annually, and, of consequence, 
 their fecundity is small in comparison. 
 
 As they are fierce by nature, and are diffi- 
 cult to be tamed, so this fierceness extend-. 
 even to their young, which they force from 
 the nest sooner than birds of the gentler kind. 
 Other birds seldom forsake their young till 
 able, completely, to provide for themselves : 
 the rapacious kinds expel them from the nest 
 at a time when they still should protect and 
 support them. This severity to their young 
 proceeds from the necessity of providing for 
 themselves. All animals that, by the confor- 
 mation of their stomach and intestines, are 
 obliged to live upon flesh, and support them- 
 selves by prey, though they may be mild when 
 young, soon become fierce and mischievous, 
 by the very habit of using those arms with 
 which they are supplied by nature. As it is 
 only by the destruction of other animals that 
 they can subsist, they become more furious 
 every day ; and even the parental feelings are 
 overpowered in their general habits of cruelty. 
 If the power of obtaining a supply be difficult, 
 the old ones soon drive their brood from the 
 nest to shift for themselves, and often destroy 
 them in a fit of fury caused by hunger. 
 
 Another effect of this natural and acquired 
 severity is, that almost all birds of prey are 
 
 unsociable. It has long been observed by 
 Aristotle, that all birds witli crooked beaks 
 and talons are solitary : like quadrupeds of the 
 cat kind, they lead a lonely wandering life, 
 and are united only in pairs, by that instinct 
 which overpowers their rapacious habits of 
 enmity with all other animals. As the male 
 and female are often necessary to each other 
 in their pursuits, so they sometimes live to- 
 gether; but except at certain seasons, they 
 most usually prowl alone ; and, like robbers, 
 enjoy in solitude the fruits of their plunder. 
 
 All birds of prey are remarkable for one 
 singularity, for which it is not easy to account. 
 All the males of these birds are about a third 
 less, and weaker than the females, contrary to 
 what obtains among quadrupeds, among which 
 the males are always the largest and the bold- 
 est : from thence the male is called by fal- 
 coners a tarcel ; that is, a tierce or third less 
 than the other. The reason of this difference 
 cannot proceed from the necessiiy of a larger 
 body in the female for the purposes of breed- 
 ing, and that her volume is thus increased by 
 the quantity of her eggs ; for in other birds, 
 that breed much faster, and that lay in much 
 greater proportion, such as the hen, the duck, 
 or the pheasant, the male is by much the 
 largest of the two. 
 
 Whatever be the cause, certain it is, that the 
 females, as Willoughby expresses it, are of 
 greater size, more beautiful and lovely for 
 shape and colours, stronger, more fierce and 
 generous, than the males ; whether it may be 
 that it is necessary for the female to be thus 
 superior, as it is incumbent upon her to pro- 
 vide, not only for herself, but her young ones 
 also. 
 
 These birds, like quadrupeds of the car- 
 nivorous kind, are all lean and meagre. Their 
 flesh is stringy and iil-tasted, soon corrupting, 
 and tinctured with the flavour of tlmt animal 
 food upon which they subsist. Nevertheless, 
 Belonius asserts, that many people admire the 
 flesh of the vulture and falcon, and dress them 
 for eating, when they meet with any accident 
 that unfits them for the chase. He asserts, 
 that the osprey, a species of the eagle, when 
 young, is excellent food ; but he contents 
 himself with advising us to breed these birds 
 up for our pleasure rather in the field, than for 
 the table. 
 
 Of land birds of a rapacious nature, there 
 
1. Genus Vnlture.l<W'T <**M,wlt , 2.G. Falcon f> 
 
 f'.r,,,n 
 
 r . 3. Fal<w <;,,,til . \.IMn: . r >.C.Strix. H*nn;l <>*! . t>.Sun t ff < W. 
 
THE EAGLE. 
 
 473 
 
 are five kinds. The eagle kind, the hawk 
 kind, the vulture kind, the horned and the 
 screech owl kind. The distinctive marks of 
 this class are taken from their claws and beak: 
 their toes are separated : their legs are feather- 
 ed to the heel : their toes are four in number; 
 three before, one behind : their beak is short, 
 thick, and crooked. 
 
 The eagle kind is distinguished from the 
 rest by his beak, which is straight till to- 
 wards the end, when it begins to hook down- 
 wards. 
 
 The vulture kind is distinguished by the 
 head and neck ; which are without feathers. 
 
 The hawk kind by the beak ; being hooked 
 from the very root. 
 
 The horned owl by the feathers at the base 
 of the bill standing forwards ; and by some 
 feathers on the head that stand out, resembling 
 horns. 
 
 The screech-owl by the feathers at the base 
 of the bill standing forward, and being with- 
 out horns. A description of one in each kind, 
 will serve for all the rest. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXXII. 
 
 THE EAGLE AND ITS AFFINITIES. 
 
 THE Golden Eagle is the largest and the 
 noblest of all those birds that have received the 
 name of eagle. It weighs above twelve pounds. 
 Its length is three feet ; the extent of its wings, 
 seven feet four inches; the bill is three inches 
 long, and of a deep blue colour ; and die eye 
 of a hazel colour. The sight and sense of 
 smelling are very acute. The head and neck 
 are clothed with narrow sharp-pointed feathers, 
 and of a deep brown colour, bordered with 
 tawny ; but those on the crown of the head, 
 in very old birds, turn gray. The whole body, 
 above as well as beneath, is of a dark brown ; 
 and the feathers of the back are finely clouded 
 with a deeper shade of the same. The wings, 
 when clothed, reach to the end of the tail. 
 The quill-feathers are of a chocolate colour, 
 the shafts white. The tail is of a deep brown, 
 irregularly barred and blotched with an ob- 
 scure ash-colour, and usually white at the 
 roots of the feathers. The legs are yellow, 
 short, and very strong, being three inches in 
 circumference, and feathered to the very feet. 
 The toes are covered with large scales, and 
 armed with the most formidable claws, the 
 middle of which are two inches long 
 
 In the rear of this terrible bird follow the 
 ring-tailed eagle, the common eagle, the bald 
 eagle, the white eagle, the kough footed eagle, 
 the erne, the black eagle, the osprey, the sea 
 eagle, and the crowned eagle. These, and 
 others that might be added, form different 
 
 shades in this fierce family ; but have all the 
 same rapacity, the same general form, the 
 same habits, and the same manner of bringing 
 up their young. 
 
 In general, these birds are found in moun- 
 tainous and ill-peopled countries, and breed 
 among the loftiest cliffs. They choose those 
 places which are remotest from man, upon 
 whose possessions they but seldom make 
 their depredations, being contented rather to 
 follow the wild game in the fdrest, than to 
 risk their safety to satisfy their hunger. 
 
 This fierce animal may be considered 
 among birds as the lion among quadrupeds ; 
 and in many respects they have a strong 
 similitude to each other. They are both pos- 
 sessed of force, and an empire over their fellows 
 of the forest. Equally magnanimous, they 
 disdain smaller plunder ; and only pursue ani- 
 mals worthy the conquest. It is not till after 
 having been long provoked, by the cries of the 
 rook or the magpie, that this generous bird 
 thinks fit to punish them with death : the 
 eagle also disdains to share th plunder of 
 another bird ; and will take up with no other 
 prey but that which he has acquired by his 
 own pursuits. How hungry soever he may 
 be, he never stoops to carrion ; and when 
 satiated, he never returns to the same carcass, 
 but leaves it for other animals, more rapacious 
 and less delicate than he. Solitary, like the lion, 
 he keeps the desert to himself alone ; it is as 
 
474 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 extraordinary to see two pair of eagles in the 
 same mountain, as two lions in the same forest. 
 They keep separate, to find a more ample 
 supply ; and consider the quantity of their 
 game as the best proof of their dominion. 
 Nor does the similitude of these animals stop 
 here : they have both sparkling eyes, and 
 nearly of the same colour ; their claws are of 
 the same form, their breath equally strong, 
 and their cry equally loud and terrifying. 
 Bred both for war, they are enemies of all 
 society : alike fierce, proud, and incapable of 
 being easily tamed. It requires great patience 
 and much art to tame an eagle ; and even 
 though taken young, and brought under by 
 long assiduity, yet still it is a dangerous do- 
 mestic, and often turns its force against its 
 master. When brought into the field for the 
 purposes of fowling, the falconer is never sure 
 of its attachment: that innate pride, and love 
 of liberty, still prompt it to regain its native 
 solitudes ; and the moment the falconer sees 
 it, when let loose, first stoop towards the 
 ground, and then rise perpendicularly into the 
 clouds, he gives up all his former labour for 
 lost ; quite sure of never beholding his late 
 prisoner more. Sometimes, however, they 
 are brought to have an attachment* for their 
 feeder; they are then highly serviceable, 
 and liberally provide for his pleasures and 
 support. When the falconer lets them go 
 from his hand, they play about and hover 
 round him till their game presents, which they 
 see at an immense distance, and pursue with 
 certain destruction. 
 
 Of all animals the eagle flies highest ; and 
 from thence the ancients have given him the 
 epithet of the bird of heaven. Of all others 
 also, he has the quickest eye ; but his sense of 
 smelling is far inferior to that of the vulture. 
 He never pursues, therefore, but in sight ; and 
 when he has seized his prey, he stoops from 
 his height, as if to examine its weight, always 
 laying it on the ground before he carries it off. 
 As his wing is very powerful, yet, as he has 
 but little suppleness in the joints of the leg, he 
 finds it difficult to rise when down ; however, 
 if not instantly pursued, he finds no difficulty 
 in carrying off geese and cranes. He also 
 carries away hares, lambs, and kids ; and 
 often destroys fawns and calves, to drink their 
 blood, and carries a part of their flesh to his 
 retreat. Infants themselves, when left unat- 
 
 tended, have been destroyed by these rapaci- 
 ous creatures ; which probably gave rise to the 
 fable of Ganymede's being snatched up by an 
 eagle to heaven. 
 
 An instance is recorded in Scotland of two 
 children being carried off by eagles ; but for- 
 tunately they received no hurt by the way ; 
 and, the eagles being pursued, the children 
 were restored unhurt out of the nests to the 
 affrighted parents. 
 
 The eagle is thus at all times a formidable 
 neighbour ; but peculiarly when bringing up 
 its young. It is then that the female, as well 
 as the male, exert all their force and industry 
 to supply their young. Smith, in his history 
 of Kerry, relates, that a poor man in that coun- 
 try got a comfortable subsistence for his 
 family, during a summer of famine, out of an 
 eagle's nest, by robbing the eaglets of food, 
 which was plentifully supplied by the eld ones. 
 He protracted their assiduity beyond the usual 
 time, by clipping the wings, and retarding the 
 flight of the young ; and very probably also, 
 as I have known myself, by so tying them as 
 to increase their cries, which is always found 
 to increase the parent's despatch to procure 
 them provision. It was lucky, however, that 
 the old eagles did not surprise the countryman 
 as he was thus employed, as their resentment 
 might have been dangerous. 
 
 It happened some time ago, in the same 
 country, that a peasant resolved to rob the nest 
 of an eagle, that had built in a small island in 
 the beautiful lake of Killarney. He accord- 
 is, gly st i -peri, and svvam in upon the island 
 while the old ones were away ; and, robbing 
 the nest of its young, he was preparing to swim 
 back, with the eaglets tied in a string ; but 
 while he was yet up to his chin in the water, 
 the old eagles returned, and, missing their 
 young, quickly fell upon the plunderer, and, 
 in spite of all his resistance, despatched him 
 with their beaks and talons. 
 
 In order to extirpate these pernicious birds, 
 there is a law in the Orkney Islands, which 
 entitles any person that kills an eagle to a hen 
 out of every house in the parish in which the 
 plunderer is killed. 
 
 The nest of the eagle is usually built in the 
 
 most inaccessible cliff of the rock, and often 
 
 shielded from the weather by some jutting 
 
 crag that hangs over it. Sometimes, how- 
 
 j ever, it is wholly exposed to the winds, as 
 
THE EAGLE. 
 
 475 
 
 well sideways as above ; for the nest is flat, 
 (hough built with great labour. It is said 
 that the same nest serves the eagle during 
 life ; and indeed the pains bestowed in form- 
 ing it seems to argue as much. One of these 
 was found in the Peak of Derbyshire ; which 
 Willoughby thus describes. " It was made 
 of great sticks, resting one end on the edge 
 of a rock, the other on two birch trees. Upon 
 these was a layer of rushes, and over them a 
 layer of heath, and upon the heath rushes again; 
 upon which lay one young one, and an addle 
 egg; and by them a lamb, a hare, and three 
 heath-poults. The nest was about two yards 
 square, and had no hollow in it. The young 
 eagle was of the shape of a goshawk, of 
 almost the weight of a goose, rough footed, 
 or feathered down to the foot, having a white 
 ring about the tail." Such is the place where 
 the female eagle deposits her eggs ; which 
 seldom exceed two at a time in the largest 
 species, and not above three in the smallest. 
 It is said that she hatches them for thirty 
 days: but frequently, even of this small 
 number of eggs, a part is addled ; and it is 
 extremely rare to find three eaglets in the 
 same nest. It is asserted, that as soon as the 
 young ones are somewhat grown, the mother 
 kills the most feeble or the most voracious. 
 If this happens, it must proceed only from 
 the necessities of the parent, who is incapa- 
 ble of providing for their support; and is 
 content to sacrifice a part to the welfare of all. 
 The plumage of the eaglets is not so strong- 
 ly marked as when they come to be adult. 
 They are at first white; then inclining to 
 yellow ; and at last of a light brown. Age, 
 hunger, long captivity, and diseases, make 
 them whiter. It is said, they live above a 
 hundred years; and that they at last die, not 
 of old age, but from the beaks turning inward 
 upon the under mandible, and thus prevent- 
 ing their taking any food. They are equally 
 remarkable, says Mr. Pennant, for their 
 longevity, and for their power of sustaining a 
 long abstinence from food. One of this 
 species, which has now been nine years in 
 the possession of Mr. Owen Holland, of Con- 
 way, lived thirty-two years with the gentle- 
 man who made him a present of it ; but what 
 its age was when the latter received it from 
 Ireland, is unknown. The same bird also 
 
 NO. 41 & 42. 
 
 furnishes a proof of the truth of the other re- 
 mark ; having once, through the neglect of 
 servants,endured hunger for twenty-one days, 
 without any sustenance whatever. 
 
 Those eagles which are kept tame, are fed 
 with every kind of flesh, whether fresh or 
 corrupting; and when there is a deficiency 
 of that, bread, or any other provision, will 
 suffice. It is very dangerous approaching 
 them if not quite tame ; and they sometimes 
 send forth a loud piercing lamentable cry, 
 which renders them still more formidable. 
 The eagle drinks but seldom; and perhaps, 
 when at liberty, not at all, as the blood of its 
 prey serves to quench its thirst. The eagle's 
 excrements are always soft and moist, and 
 tinged with that whitish substance w-hich, as 
 was said before, mixes in birds with the 
 urine. 
 
 Such are the general characteristics and 
 habitudes of the eagle; however, in some 
 these habitudes differ, as the Sea Eagle and 
 the Osprey live chiefly upon fish, and con- 
 sequently build their nests on the sea-shore, 
 and by the sides of rivers on the ground 
 among reeds; and often lay three or four eggs, 
 rather less than those of a hen, of a white 
 elliptical form. They catch their prey, 
 which is chiefly fish, by darting down upon 
 them from above. The Italians compare the 
 violent descent of these birds on their prey 
 to the fall of lead into water; and call them 
 aquila piombina, or the Leaden eagle. 
 
 Nor is the bald eagle, which is an in- 
 habitant of North Carolina, less remarkable 
 for habits peculiar to itself. These birds 
 breed in that country all the year round. 
 When the eaglets are just covered with down, 
 and a sort of white woolly feathers, the female 
 eagle lays again. These eggs are left to be 
 hatched by the warmth of the young ones 
 that continue in the nest; so that the flight of 
 one brood makes room for the next that are 
 but just hatched. These birds fly very 
 heavily ; so that they cannot overtake their 
 prey, like others of the same denomination. 
 To remedy this, they often attend a sort of 
 fishing-hawk, which they pursue, and strip the 
 plunderer of its prey. This is the more re- 
 markable, as this hawk flies swifter than they. 
 These eagles also generally attend upon 
 fowlers in the winter ; and when any birds 
 4 A 
 
476 
 
 A HISTORY OP 
 
 are wounded, they are sure to be seized by 
 the eagle, though they may fly from the f'ovr- 
 ler. This bird will often also steal yoirig 
 pigs, and carry them alive to the nest, which 
 is composed of twigs, sticks, and rubbish; it 
 is large enough to fill the body of a cart ; and 
 is commonly full of bones half eaten, and 
 putrid flesh, the stench of which is intoler- 
 able. 
 
 The distinctive marks of each species are 
 as follow : 
 
 The golden eagle: of a tawny iron colour; 
 the head and neck of a reddish iron; the 
 tail feathers of a dirty white, marked with 
 cross bands of tawny iron; the legs covered 
 with tawny iron feathers. 
 
 The common eagle : of a brown colour ; the 
 head and upper part of the neck inclining to 
 red; the tail feathers white, blackening at 
 the ends; the outer ones, on each side, of an 
 ash colour ; the legs covered with feathers of 
 a reddish brown. 
 
 The bald eagle : brown ; the head, neck, 
 and tail feathers, white ; the feathers of the 
 upper part of the leg brown. 
 
 The white eagle : the whole white. 
 
 The rough-fooled eagle : of a dirty brown ; 
 spotted under the wings, and on the legs, 
 with white; the feathers of the tail white at 
 the beginning and the point ; the leg feathers 
 dirty brown, spotted with white. 
 
 The white-tailed eagle: dirty brown; head 
 white ; the stems of the feathers black ; the 
 rump inclining to black; the tail feathers, 
 the first half black, the end half white ; legs 
 naked. 
 
 The erne : a dirty iron colour above, an 
 
 To these we may add, the bearded eagle of the Alpt, 
 * bird of vast size, measuring sometimes nearly ten feet 
 from the tip of one wing to the tip of the other: below 
 the throat is a beard-like appendage, consisting of very 
 arrow feathers. The legs are clothed with feathers quite 
 down to the toes. One of these Mr. Bruce shot on the 
 high mountains of Abyssinia. " Upon laying hold of his 
 monstrous carcass, (says he) I was not a little surprised 
 at seeing my hands covered and tinged with a yellow 
 powder or dust. Upon turning him on his belly, and 
 examining the feathers of his back, they also produced a 
 
 iron mixed with black below ; the head and 
 neck ash, mixed with chesnut; the points of 
 the wings blackish ; the tail feathers white ; 
 the legs naked. 
 
 The black eagle : blackish ; the head and 
 upper neck mixed with red ; the tail feathers, 
 the first half white^ speckled with black ; the 
 other half blackish; the leg feathers dirty 
 white. 
 
 The sea eagle : inclining to white, mixed 
 with iron brown; belly white, with iron- 
 coloured spots ; the covert feathers of the 
 tail whitish ; the tail feathers black at the ex- 
 tremity; the upper part of the leg feathers of 
 an iron brown. 
 
 The osprey : brown above, white below ; 
 the back of the head white, the outward tail 
 feathers, on the inner side, streaked with 
 white ; legs naked. 
 
 The jean le blanc : above, brownish gray j 
 I below, white, spotted with tawny brown; 
 the tail feathers, on the outside and at the 
 extremity, brown; on the inside, white, streak- 
 ed with brown ; legs naked. 
 
 The eagle of Brasil : blackish brown ; ash 
 colour, mixed in the wings ; tail feathers 
 white ; legs naked. 
 
 The Oroonoko eagle: with a topping; above, 
 blackish brown ; below, white, spotted with 
 black ; upper neck yellow ; tail feathers 
 brown, with white circles ; leg feathers white, 
 spotted with black. 
 
 The crowned African eagle : with a topping; 
 the tail of an ash colour, streaked on the 
 upper side with black. 
 
 The eagle of Pondicherry : chesnut colour ; 
 the six outward tail feathers black one half. 1 
 
 dust, the colour of the feathers there. The dust was not 
 in small quantities; for, upon striking the breast, the yellow 
 powder flew in full greater quantity than from a hair- 
 dresser's powder-puff. What is the reason of this extraor- 
 dinary provision of nature, it is not in my power to de- 
 termine. As it is an unusual one, it is probably meant 
 for a defence against the climate, in favour of the birds 
 which live in those almost inaccessible heights of a coufi- 
 try doomed, even in its lower parts, to several months ex- 
 cessive rain." 
 
THE CONDOR. 
 
 477 
 
 CHAPTER LXXX1II. 
 
 THE CONDOR OF AMERICA. 
 
 WE might now come to speak of the vul- 
 ture kind, as they hold the next rank to the 
 eagle ; but we are interrupted in our method, 
 by the consideration of an enormous bird, 
 whose place is not yet ascertained ; as natu- 
 ralists are in doubt whether to refer it to the 
 eagle tribe, or to that of the vulture. Its 
 great strength, force, and vivacity, might plead 
 for its place among the former ; the baldness 
 of its head and neck might be thought to de- 
 grade it among the latter. In this uncertain- 
 ty, it will be enough to describe the bird, by 
 the lights we have, and leave future historians 
 to settle its rank in the feathered creation. 
 Indeed, if size and strength, combined with 
 rapidity of flight and rapacity, deserve pre- 
 eminence, no bird can be put in competition 
 with it. 
 
 The Condor possesses, in a higher degree 
 than the eagle, all the qualities that render 
 it formidable, not only to the feathered kind, 
 but to beasts, and even to man himself. Acos- 
 ta, Garcilasso, and Desmarchais, assert, that 
 it is eighteen feet across, the wings extended. 
 The beak is so strong as to pierce the body 
 of a cow ; and two of them are able to devour 
 it. They do not even abstain from man him- 
 self: but fortunately there are but few of the 
 species; for if they had been plenty, every 
 order of animals must have carried on an un- 
 successful war against them. The Indians as- 
 sert, that they will carry off a deer, or a young 
 calf, in their talons, as eagles would a hare 
 or a rabbit; that their sight is piercing, and 
 their air terrible ; that they seldom frequent 
 the forests, as they require a large space for 
 the display of their wings; but that they are 
 found on the sea-shore, and the banks of ri- 
 vers, whither they descend from their heights 
 of the mountains. By later accounts we 
 learn, that they come down to the sea-shore 
 only at certain seasons, when their prey hap- 
 pens to fail them upon land ; that they then 
 feed upon dead fish, and such other nutritious 
 
 substances as the sea throws upon the shore. 
 We are assured, however, that their counte- 
 nance is not so terrible as the old writers have 
 represented it; but that they appear of a 
 milder nature than either the eagle or the 
 vulture. 
 
 Condamine has frequently seen them in se- 
 veral parts of the mountains of Quito, and ob- 
 served them hovering over a flock of sheep ; 
 and he thinks they would, at a certain time, 
 have attempted to carry one off, had they not 
 been scared away by the shepherds. Labat 
 acquaints us, that those who have seen this 
 animal, declare that the body is as large as 
 that of a sheep ; and that the flesh is tough, 
 and as disagreeable as carrion. The Spa- 
 niards themselves seem to dread its depre- 
 dations ; and there have been many instan- 
 ces of its carrying off their children. 
 
 Mr. Strong, the master of a ship, as he was 
 sailing along the coasts of Chili, in the thirty- 
 third degree of south latitude, observed a bird 
 sitting upon a high cliff near the shore, which 
 some of the ship's company shot with a lead- 
 en bullet, and killed. They were greatly sur- 
 prised when they beheld its magnitude ; for 
 when the wings were extended, they mea- 
 sured thirteen feet from one tip to the other. 
 One of the quills was two feet four inches 
 long ; and the barrel, or hollow part, was six 
 inches and three quarters, and an inch and 
 a half in circumference. 
 
 We have a still more circumstantial account 
 of this amazing bird, by P. Feuille, the only 
 traveller who has accurately described it : 
 "In the valley of Ilo in Peru, I discovered a 
 condor perched on a high rock before me : 
 I approached within gun-shot, and fired ; but, 
 as my piece was only charged with swan-shot, 
 the lead was not able sufficiently to pierce 
 the bird's feathers. I perceived, however, 
 by its manner of flying, that it was wounded ; 
 and it was with a good deal of difficulty that 
 it flew to another rock, about five hundred 
 
 4A 
 
478 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 yards distant on the sea-shore. I therefore 
 charged again with ball, and hit the bird un- 
 der the throat, which made it mine. I ac- 
 cordingly ran up to seize it; but even in 
 death it was terrible, and defended itself up- 
 on its back, with its claws extended against 
 me, so that I scarcely knew how to lay hold 
 of it. Had it not been mortally wounded, I 
 should have found it no easy matter to take 
 it; but I at last dragged it down from the 
 rock, and, with the assistance of one of the 
 seamen, I carried it to my tent, to make a 
 coloured drawing. 
 
 " The wings of this bird, which I measured 
 very exactly, were twelve feet three inches 
 (English) from tip to tip. The great feathers, 
 that were of a beautiful shining black, were 
 two feet four inches long. The thickness of 
 the beak was proportionable to the rest of 
 the body; the length about four inches; the 
 point hooked downwards, and white at its 
 extremity ; and the other part was of a jet 
 black. A short down, of a brown colour, co- 
 vered the head ; the eyes were black, and 
 surrounded with a circle of reddish brown. 
 The feathers, on the breast, neck, and wings, 
 were of a light brown ; those on the back 
 were rather darker. Its thighs were covered 
 with brown feathers to the knee. The thigh 
 bone was ten inches long; the leg five inches; 
 the toes were three before, and one behind: 
 that behind was an inch and a half; and the 
 claw with which it was armed was black, 
 and three quarters of an inch. The other 
 claws were in the same proportion; and the 
 legs were covered with black scales, as 
 also the toes ; but in these the scales were 
 larger. 
 
 " These birds usually keep in the moun- 
 tains, where they find their prey: they never 
 descend to the sea-shore but in the rainy sea- 
 son ; for, as they are very sensible of cold, 
 they go there for greater warmth. Though 
 these mountains are situated in the torrid 
 
 I? zone, the cold is often very severe ; for a 
 great part of the year they are covered with 
 snow, but particularly in winter. 
 
 " The little nourishment which these birds 
 find on the sea-coast, except when the tem- 
 pest drives in some great fish, obliges the con- 
 dor to continue there but a short time. They 
 usually come to the coast at the approach of 
 evening; stay there all night, and fly back in 
 the morning." 
 
 It is doubted whether this animal be pro- 
 per to America only, or whether it may not 
 have been described by the naturalists of 
 other countries. It is supposed that the great 
 bird called the Rock, described by Arabian 
 writers, and so much exaggerated by fable, 
 is but a species of the condor. The great 
 bird of Tarnassar, in the East Indies, that is 
 larger than the eagle, as well as the vulture 
 of Senegal, that carries oflfchildren, are pro- 
 bably no other than the bird we have been 
 describing. Russia, Lapland, and even Swit- 
 zerland and Germany, are said to have known 
 this animal. A bird of this kind was shot in 
 France, that weighed eighteen pounds, and 
 was said to be eighteen feet across the wings : 
 however, one of the quills was described only 
 as being larger than that of a swan; so that 
 probably the breadth of the wings may have 
 been exaggerated, since a bird so large would 
 have the quills more than twice as big as 
 those of a swan. However this be, we are 
 not to regret that it is scarcely ever seen in 
 Europe, as it appears to be one of the most 
 formidable enemies of mankind. In the de- 
 serts of Pachomac, where it is chiefly seen, 
 men seldom venture to travel. Those wild 
 regions are very sufficient of themselves to 
 inspire a secret horror': broken precipices 
 prowling panthers forests only vocal with 
 the hissing of serpents and mountains ren- 
 dered still more terrible by the condor, the 
 only bird that ventures to make its residence 
 in those deserted situations. 
 
THE VULTURE. 
 
 479 
 
 CHAPTER LXXXIV. 
 
 OF THE VULTURE AND ITS AFFINITIES. 
 
 THE first rank in the description of birds, 
 has been given to the eagle ; not because it 
 is stronger or larger than the vulture, but 
 because it is more generous and bold. The 
 eagle, unless pressed by famine, will not stoop 
 to carrion ; and never devours but what he 
 has earned by his own pursuit. The vulture, 
 on the contrary, is indelicately voracious ; 
 and seldom attacks living animals, when it 
 can be supplied with the dead. The eagle 
 meets and singly opposes his enemy ; the 
 vulture, if it expects resistance, calls in the 
 aid of its kind, and basely overpowers its 
 prey by a cowardly combination. Putrefac- 
 tion and stench, instead of deterring, only 
 serves to allure them. The vulture seems 
 among birds, what the jackal and hyaena are 
 among quadrupeds, who prey upon carcasses, 
 and root up the dead. 
 
 Vultures may be easily distinguished from 
 all those of the eagle kind, by the nakedness 
 of their heads and necks, which are without 
 feathers, and only covered with a very slight 
 down, or a few scattered hairs. Their eyes 
 are more prominent ; those of the eagle being 
 buried more in the socket. Their claws are 
 shorter, and less hooked. The inside of the 
 wing is covered with a thick down, which is 
 different in them from all other birds of prey. 
 Their attitude is not so upright as that of 
 the eagle; and their flight more difficult and 
 heavy. 
 
 In this tribe we may range the golden, the 
 ash-coloured, and the brown vulture, which 
 are inhabitants of Europe; the spotted and 
 the black vulture of Egypt ; the bearded vul- 
 ture; the Brasilian vulture, and the king of 
 the vultures, of South America. They all 
 agree in their nature ; being equally indolent, 
 yet rapacious and unclean. 
 
 The GOLDEN VULTURE seems to be the fore- 
 most of the kind ; and is in many things like 
 the golden eagle, but larger in every propor- 
 tion. From the end of the beak to that of 
 
 the tail, it is four feet and a half; and to the 
 claws' end, forty-five inches. The length of 
 the upper mandible is almost seven inches ; 
 and the tail twenty-seven in length. The 
 lower part of the neck, breast, and belly, are 
 of a red colour; but on the tail it is more 
 faint, and deeper near the head. The fea- 
 thers are black on the back; and on the 
 wings and tail of a yellowish brown. Others 
 of the kind differ from this in colour and 
 dimensions; but they are all strongly mark- 
 ed by their naked heads, and beak straight 
 in the beginning, but hooking at the point. 
 
 They are still more strongly marked by 
 their nature, which, as has been observed, is 
 cruel, unclean, and indolent. Their sense of 
 smelling, however, is amazingly great ; and 
 nature, for this purpose, has given them two 
 large apertures or nostrils without, and an 
 extensive olfactory membrane within. Their 
 intestines are formed differently from those of 
 the eagle kind ; for they partake more of the 
 formation of such birds as live upon grain. 
 They have both a crop and a stomach ; which 
 may be regarded as a kind of gizzard, from 
 the extreme thickness of the muscles of which 
 it is composed. In fact, they seem adapted 
 inwardly, not only for being carnivorous, but 
 to eat corn or whatsoever of that kind comes 
 in their way. 
 
 This bird, which is common in many parts 
 of Europe, and but too well known on the 
 western continent, is totally unknown in 
 England. In Egypt, Arabia, and many other 
 kingdoms of Africa and Asia, vultures are 
 found in great abundance. The inside down 
 of their wing is converted into a very warm 
 and comfortable kind of fur, and is common- 
 ly sold in the Asiatic markets. 
 
 Indeed, in Egypt, this bird seems to be of 
 singular service. There are great flocks of 
 them in the neighbourhood of Grand Cairo, 
 which no person is permitted to destroy. 
 The service they render the inhabitants, is 
 
480 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 the devouring of all the carrion and filth of 
 that great city ; which might otherwise tend 
 to corrupt and putrefy the air. They are 
 commonly seen in company with the wild 
 dogs of the country, tearing a carcass very 
 deliberately together. This odd association 
 produces no quarrels; the birds and quadru- 
 peds seem to live amicably, and nothing but 
 harmony subsists between them. The won- 
 der is still the greater, as both are extremely 
 rapacious, and both lean and bony to a very 
 great degree; probably having no great plenty 
 even of the wretched food on which they 
 subsist. 
 
 In America theylead a lifesomewhat similar. 
 Wherever the hunters, who there only pur- 
 sue beasts for the skins, are found to go, 
 these birds are seen to pursue them. They 
 still keep hovering at a little distance ; and 
 when they see the beast flayed and abandon- 
 ed, they call out to each other, pour down 
 upon the carcass, and, in an instant, pick its 
 bones as bare and clean as if they had been 
 scraped by a knife. 
 
 At the Cape of Good Hope, in Africa, they 
 seem to discover a still greater share of dex- 
 terity in their methods of carving. "I have," 
 says Kolben, " been often a spectator of tbe 
 manner in which they have anatomized a 
 dead body : I say anatomized ; for no artist 
 in the world could have done it more cleanly. 
 They have a wonderful method of separating 
 the flesh from the bones, and yet leaving the 
 skin quite entire. Upon coming near the 
 carcass, one would not suppose it thus de- 
 prived of its internal substance, till he began 
 to examine it more closely ; he then finds it, 
 literally speaking, nothing but skin and bone. 
 Their manner of performing the operation is 
 this : they first make an opening in the belly 
 of the animal, from whence they pluck out, 
 and greedily devour, the entrails: then enter- 
 ing into the hollow which they have made, 
 they separate the flesh from the bones, with- 
 out ever touching the skin. It often happens 
 that an ox returning home alone to its stall 
 from the plough, lies down by the way : it is 
 then, if the vultures perceive it, that they fall 
 with fury down, and inevitably devour the 
 unfortunate animal. They sometimes at- 
 tempt them grazing in the fields ; and 
 then, to the number of a hundred or 
 
 more, make their attack all at once and 
 together." 
 
 " They are attracted by carrion," says 
 Catesby, " from a very great distance. It is 
 pleasant to behold them, when they are thus 
 eating, and disputing for their prey. An 
 eagle generally presides at these entertain- 
 ments, and makes them all keep their distance 
 till he has done. They then full to with an 
 excellent appetite; and their sense of smel- 
 ling is so exquisite, that the instant a carcass 
 drops, we may see the vultures floating in the 
 air from all quarters, and come sousing on 
 their prey." It is supposed by some, that 
 (hey eat nothing that has life; but this is 
 only when they are not able ; for when they 
 can come at lambs, they show no mercy; and 
 serpents are their ordinary food. The man- 
 ner of those birds is to perch themselves, 
 several together, on the old pine and cypress- 
 trees ; where they continue all the morning, 
 for several hours, with their wings unfolded : 
 nor are they fearful of danger, but suffer peo* 
 pie to approach them very near, particularly 
 when they are eating. 
 
 The sloth, the filth, and the voraciousness, 
 of these birds, almost exceeds credibility. 
 In the Brasils, where they are found in great 
 abundance, when they light upon a carcass, 
 which they have liberty to tear at their ease, 
 they so gorge themselves that they are unable 
 to fly ; but keep hopping along when they are 
 pursued. At all times, they are a bird of 
 slow flight, and unable readily to raise them- 
 selves from the ground ; but when they have 
 over-fed, they are then utterly helpless : but 
 they soon get rid of their burden; for they 
 have a method of vomiting up what they 
 have eaten, and then they fly off with greater 
 facility. 
 
 It is pleasant, however, to be a spectator 
 of the hostilities between animals that are 
 thus hateful or noxious. Of all creatures, the 
 two most at enmity, is the vulture of Brasil, 
 and the crocodile. The female of this terri- 
 ble amphibious creature, which in the rivers 
 of that part of the world grows to the size of 
 twenty-seven feet, lays its eggs, to the num- 
 ber of one or two hundred, in the sands, on 
 the side of the river, where they are hatched 
 by the heat of the climate. For this purpose, 
 she takes every precaution to hide from all 
 
THE VULTURE. 
 
 ether animals the place where she deposits 
 her burden: in the mean time, a number of 
 Vultures, or galinassos, as the Spaniards call 
 them, sit silent and unseen in the branches of 
 Some neighbouring forest, and view the cro- 
 codile's operations, with the pleasing expec- 
 tation of succeeding plunder. They patiently 
 wait till the crocodile has laid the whole 
 number of her eggs, till she has covered them 
 carefully under the sand, and until she is re- 
 tired from them to a convenient distance. 
 Then, all together, encouraging each other 
 with cries, they pour down upon the nest, 
 hook up the sand in a moment, lay the eggs 
 bare, and devour the whole brood without re- 
 morse. Wretched as is the flesh of these 
 animals, yet men, perhaps when pressed by 
 hunger, have been tempted to taste it. No- 
 thing can be more lean, stringy, nauseous, 
 and unsavoury. It is in vain that, when kill- 
 ed, the rump has been cut off; in vain the 
 body has been washed, and spices used to 
 overpower its prevailing odour; it still smells 
 and tastes of the carrion by which it was nou- 
 rished, and sends forth a stench that is insup- 
 portable. 
 
 These birds, at least those of Europe, usu- 
 ally lay two eggs at a time, and produce but 
 once a year. They make their nests in inac- 
 cessible cliffs, and in places so remote, that 
 it is rare to find them. Those in our part of 
 the world chiefly reside in the places where 
 they breed, and seldom come down into the 
 plains, except when the snow and ice, in 
 their native retreats, has banished all living 
 animals but themselves: they then come from 
 their heights, and brave the perils they must 
 encounter in a more cultivated region. As 
 carrion is not found, at those seasons, in suf- 
 ficient quantity, or sufficiently remote from 
 man to sustain them, they prey upon rabbits, 
 hares, serpents, and whatever small game 
 they can overtake or overpower. 
 
 Such are the manners of this bird in gene- 
 
 ral ; but there is one of the kind, called the 
 King of the Vultures, which, from its extra- 
 ordinary figure, deserves a separate descrip- 
 tion. This bird is a native of America, and 
 not of the East Indies, as those who make a 
 trade of showing birds would induce us to 
 believe. This bird is larger than a turkey- 
 cock; but is chiefly remarkable for the odd 
 formation of the skin of the head and neck, 
 which is bare. This skin arises frcin the 
 base of the bill, and is of an orange colour; 
 from whence it stretches on each side to the 
 head ; from thence it proceeds, like an indent- 
 ed comb, and falls on either side, according 
 to the motion of the head. The eyes are sur- 
 rounded by a red skin, of a scarlet colour;, 
 and the iris has the colour and lustre of pearl. 
 The head and neck are without feathers, co- 
 vered with a flesh-coloured skin on the up- 
 per part, a fine scarlet behind the head, and 
 a duskier coloured skin before: farther down, 
 behind the head, arises a little tuft of black 
 down, from whence issues and extends be- 
 neath the throat, on each side, a wrinkled 
 skin, of a brownish colour, mixed with blue, 
 and reddish behind: below, upon the naked 
 part of the neck, is a collar formed by soft 
 longish feathers, of a deep ash-colour, which 
 surround the neck, and cover the breast be- 
 fore. Into this collar the bird sometimes 
 withdraws its whole neck, and sometimes a 
 part of its head, so that it looks as if it had 
 withdrawn the neck into the body. Those 
 marks are sufficient to distinguish this bird 
 from all others of the vulture kind ; and it 
 cannot be doubted, but that it is the most 
 beautiful of all this deformed family : however, 
 neither its habits nor instincts vary from the 
 rest of the tribe ; being like them a slow cow- 
 ardly bird, living chiefly upon rats, lizards, 
 and serpents; and upon carrion or excrement, 
 when it happens to be in the way. The flesh 
 is so bad, that even savages themselves can- 
 not abide it. 
 
482 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 CHAPTER LXXXV. 
 
 OF THE FALCON KIND, AND ITS AFFINITIES. 
 
 EVERY creature becomes more important 
 in the. history of nature in proportion as it is 
 connected with man. In tfiis view, the smal- 
 lest vegetable, or the most seemingly con- 
 temptible insect, is a subject more deserving 
 attention than the most flourishing tree, or 
 the most beautiful of the feathered creation. 
 In this view, the falcon is a more important 
 animal than the eagle or the vulture; and, 
 though so very diminutive in the comparison, 
 is, notwithstanding, from its connexion with 
 our pleasures, a much more interesting ob- 
 ject of curiosity. 
 
 The amusement of hawking, indeed, is now 
 pretty much given over in this kingdom; for 
 as every country refines, as its enclosures be- 
 come higher and closer, those rural sports 
 must consequently decline, in which the game 
 is to be pursued over a long extent of coun- 
 try; and where, while every thing retards 
 the pursuer below, nothing can stop the ob- 
 ject of his pursuit above. 
 
 Falconry, that is now so much disused 
 among us, was the principal amusement of 
 our ancestors. A person of rank scarcely 
 stirred out without his hawk on his hand ; 
 which in old paintings is the criterion of no- 
 bility. Harold, afterwards king of England, 
 when he went on a most important embassy 
 into JSormandy, is drawn in an old bas-relief, 
 as embarking with a bird on his fist, and a 
 dog under his arm. In those days, it was 
 thought sufficient for noblemen's sons to wind 
 the horn, and to carry their hawk fair, and 
 leave study and learning to the children of 
 meaner people. Indeed, this diversion was 
 in such high esteem among the great all over 
 Europe, that Frederic, one of the emperors 
 of Germany, thought it not beneath him to 
 write a treatise upon hawking. 
 
 The expense which attended this sport was 
 very great : among the old Welsh princes, 
 the king's falconer was the fourth officer in 
 the state ; but, notwithstanding all his honours, 
 
 he was forbid to take more than three draughts 
 of beer from his horn, lest he should get 
 drunk and neglect his duty. In the reign of 
 James I. Sir Thomas Monson is said to have 
 given a thousand pounds fora cast of hawks; 
 and such was their value in general, that it 
 was made felony in the reign of Edward III. 
 to steal a hawk. To take its eggs, even in a\ 
 person's own ground, was punishable with 
 imprisonment for a year and a day, together 
 with a fine at the king's pleasure. In the 
 reign of Elizabeth the imprisonment was re- 
 duced to three months; but the offender was 
 to lie in prison till he got security for his 
 good behaviour for seven years farther. In 
 the earlier times the art of gunning was but 
 little practised, and the hawk was then va- 
 luable, not only for its affording diversion, 
 but for its procuring delicacies for the table, 
 that could seldom be obtained any other way. 
 
 Of many of the ancient falcons used for 
 this purpose, we at this time know only the 
 names, as the exact species are so ill de- 
 scribed, that one may be very easily mistaken 
 for another. Of those in use, at present, both 
 here and in other countries, are the gyr-fal- 
 con, the falcon, the lanner, the sacre, the 
 hobby, the kestril, and the merlin. These 
 are called the long-winged hawks, to distin- 
 guish them from the goss-hawk, the sparrow- 
 hawk, the kite, and the buzzard, that are of 
 shorter wing, and either too slow, too cow- 
 ardly, too indolent, or too obstinate, to be 
 serviceable in contributing to the pleasures 
 of the field. 
 
 The generous tribe of hawks, as was said, 
 are distinguished from the rest by the pecu- 
 liar length of their wings, which reach near- 
 ly as low as the tail. In these, the first quill 
 of the wing is nearly as long as the second ; 
 it terminates in a point, which begins to di- 
 minish from about an inch of its extremity. 
 This sufficiently distinguishes the generous 
 breed from that of the baser race of kites, 
 
THE FALCON KIND. 
 
 483 
 
 sparrow-hawks, and buzzards, in whom the 
 tail is longer than the wings, and the first 
 feather of the wing is rounded at the extremity. 
 They differ also in the latter having the fourth 
 feather of the wing the longest; in the gener- 
 ous race it is always the second. 
 
 This generous race, which have been taken 
 into the service of man, are endowed with 
 natural powers that the other kinds are not 
 possessed of. From the length of their wings, 
 they are swifter to pursue their game ; from 
 a confidence in this swiftness, they are bolder 
 to attack it ; and from an innate generosity, 
 they have an attachment to their feeder, and, 
 consequently, a docility which the baser birds 
 are strangers to. 
 
 The gyr-falcon leads in this bold train. 
 He exceeds all other falcons in the largeness 
 of his size, for he approaches nearly to the 
 magnitude of the eagle. The top of the head 
 is flat and of an ash-colour, with a strong, 
 thick, short, and blue beak. The feathers of 
 the back and wings are marked with black 
 spots, in the shape of a heart ; he is a cou- 
 rageous and tierce bird, nor fears even the 
 eagle himself; but he chiefly flies at the stork, 
 the herbn, and the crane. He is mostly 
 found in the colder regions of the north, but 
 loses neither his strength nor his courage 
 when brought into the milder climates. 
 
 The falcon, properly so called, is the second 
 in magnitude and fame. There are some 
 varieties in this bird ; but there seem to be 
 only two that claim distinction ; the falcon- 
 Dentil and the peregrine-falcon ; both are 
 much less than the gyr, and somewhat about 
 the size of a raven. They differ but slightly, 
 and perhaps only from the different states 
 they were in when brought into captivity. 
 Those differences are easier known by 'ex- 
 perience than taught by description. The 
 lalcon-gentil moults in March, and often 
 sooner: the peregrine-falcon does not moult 
 till the middle of August. The peregrine is 
 stronger in the shoulder, has a larger eye, 
 and yet more sunk in the h'-ad ; the beak is 
 stronger, his legs longer, and the toes better 
 divided. 
 
 Next in size to these is the lanner, a bird 
 now very little known in Europe; then follows 
 the sacre, the tegs of which are of a bluish 
 colour, and serve to distinguish that bird ; to 
 
 NO. 41 & 42. 
 
 them succeeds the hobby, used for smaller 
 game, for daring larks, and stooping at quails, 
 The kestril was trained forthe same purposes; 
 and lastly the merlin ; which, though the 
 smallest of all the hawk or falcon kind, and 
 not much larger than a thrush, yet'displays a 
 degree of courage that renders him formidable 
 even to birds ten times his size. He has 
 often been known to kill a partridge or a 
 quail at a single pounce from above. 
 
 Some of the other species of sluggish birds 
 were now and then trained to this sport, but 
 it was when no better could be obtained ; 
 but thesejust described wereonjy considered 
 as birds of the nobler races. Their courage 
 in general was such, that no bird, not very 
 much above their own size, could terrify 
 them ; their swiftness so great, that scarcely 
 any bird could escape them ; and their do- 
 cility so remarkable, that they obeyed not 
 only the commands, but the signs of their 
 master. They remained quietly perched 
 upon his hand till their game was flushed, or 
 else kept hovering round his head, without 
 ever leaving him but when he gave permission. 
 The common falcon is a bird of such spirit, 
 that, like a conqueror in a country, he keeps 
 all birds in awe and in subjection to his 
 prowess. Where he is seen flying wild, as 1 
 often had an opportunity of observing, the 
 birds of every kind, that seemed entirely to 
 disregard the kite or the sparrow-hawk, fly 
 with screams at hie most distant appearance. 
 Long before I could see the falcon, I have 
 seen them with the utmost signs of terror 
 endeavouring to avoid him ; and, like the 
 peasants of a country before avictorious army, 
 every one of them attempting to shift for him- 
 self. Even the young falcons, though their 
 spirit be depressed by captivity, will, when 
 brought out into the field, venture to fly at 
 barnacles and wild geese, till, being soundly 
 brushed and beaten by those strong birds, 
 they learn their error, and desist from 
 meddling with such unwieldy game for the 
 future. 
 
 To train up the hawk to this kind of 
 obedience, so as to hunt for his master, and 
 bring him the game he shall kill, requires no 
 small degree of skill and assiduity. Num- 
 berless treatises have been written upon 
 this subject, which are now, with the sport 
 
 4B 
 
484 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 itself, almost utterly forgotten: indeed, ex- 
 cept to a few, they seem utterly unintelligible; 
 for the falconers had a language peculiar to 
 themselves, in which they conversed and 
 wrote, and took a kind of professional pride 
 in using no other. A modern reader, 1 sup- 
 pose, would be little edified by one of the in- 
 structions, for instance, which we find in Wil- 
 loughby, when he bids us " draw our falcon 
 out of the mew twenty days before we en- 
 seam her. If she truss and carry, the reme- 
 dy is, to cosse her talons, her powse, and 
 petty single." 
 
 But, as it certainly makes a part of natural 
 histon to show how much the nature of birds 
 can be wrought upon by harsh or kind treat- 
 ment, I will just take leave to give a short 
 account of the manner of training a hawk, 
 divested of those cant words with which men 
 of art have thought proper to obscure their 
 profession. 
 
 In order to train up a falcon, the master 
 begins by clapping straps upon his legs, 
 which are called jesses, to which there is fast- 
 ened a ring with the owner's name, by which, 
 in case he should be lost, the finder may 
 know where to bring him back. To these 
 also are added little bells, which serve to 
 mark the place where he is, if lost in the 
 chase. He is always carried on the fist, and 
 is obliged to keep without sleeping. If he be 
 stubborn, and attempts to bite, his head is 
 plunged into water. Thus, by hunger, watch- 
 ing, and fatigue, he is constrained to submit 
 to having his head covered by a hood or 
 cowl, which covers his eyes. This trouble- 
 some employment continues often for three 
 days and nights without ceasing. It rarely 
 happens but at the end of this, his necessities 
 and the privation of light make him lose all 
 idea of liberty, and bring down his natural 
 vvildness. His master judges of his being 
 tamed when he permits his head to be cover- 
 ed without resistance, and when uncovered 
 he seizes the meat before him contentedly. 
 The repetition of these lessons by degrees 
 ensures success. His wants being the chief 
 principle of his dependence, it is endeavour- 
 ed to increase his appetite by giving him lit- 
 tle balls of flannel, which he greedily swal- 
 lows. Having thus excited the appetite, care 
 is taken to satisfy it; arid thus gratitude at- 
 
 taches the bird to the man who but just be- 
 fore had been his tormentor. 
 
 When the first lessons have succeeded, and 
 the bird shows signs of docility, he is carried 
 out upon some given, the head is uncovered, 
 and, by flattering him with food at different 
 times, he is taught to jump on the fist, and to 
 continue there. When confirmed in this ha- 
 bit, it is then thought time to make him ac- 
 quainted with the lure. This lure is only a 
 tiling stuffed like the bird the falcon is de- 
 signed to pursue, such as a heron, a pigeon, 
 or a quail, and on this lure they always take 
 care to give him his food. It is quite neces- 
 sary that the bird should not only be acquaint- 
 ed with this, but fond of it, and delicate in 
 his food when shown it. When the falcon 
 has flown upon this, and tasted the first mor- 
 sel, some falconers then take it away; but 
 by this there is a danger of daunting the bird ; 
 and the surest method is, when he flies to 
 seize it, to let him feed at large, ar:d this 
 serves as a recompense for his docility. The 
 use of this lure is to flatter him back when 
 he has flown in the air, which it sometimes 
 fails to do; and it is always requisite to as- 
 sist it by the voice and the signs of the mas- 
 ter. When these lessons have been long re- 
 peated, it is then necessary to study the cha- 
 racter of the bird ; to speak frequently to 
 him, if he be inattentive to the voice; to 
 stint in his food such as do not come kindly 
 or readily to the lure; to keep waking him, 
 if he be not sufficiently familiar ; and to cover 
 him frequently with the hood, if he fears dark- 
 ness. When the familiarity and the docility 
 of the bird are sufficiently confirmed on the 
 green, he is then carried into the open fields, 
 but still kept fast by a string which is about 
 twenty yards long. He is then uncovered as 
 before ; and the falconer, calling him at some 
 paces distance, shows him the lure. When 
 he flies upon it, he is permitted to take a 
 large morsel of the food which is tied to it. 
 The next day the lure is shown him at a 
 greater distance, till he comes at last to fly 
 to it at the utmost length of his string. He 
 is then to be shown the game itself alive, but 
 disabled or tame, which he is designed to 
 pursue. After having seized tins several 
 times, with his string, he is then left entirely 
 at liberty, and carried into the field for the 
 
THE FALCON KIND. 
 
 485 
 
 purpose of pursuing that which is wild. At 
 that he flies with avidity ; and when he has 
 seized it, or killed it, he is brought back by the 
 voice and the lure. 
 
 By this method of instruction, an hawk may 
 be taught to fly at any game whatsoever ; but 
 falconers have chiefly confined their pursuit 
 only to such ani-nals as yield them profit by 
 the capture, or pleasure in the pursuit. The 
 hare, the partridge, and the quail, repay the 
 trouble of taking them ; but the most delight- 
 ful sport is the falcon's pursuit of the heron, 
 the kite, or the wood-lark. Instead of flying 
 directly forward, as some other birds do, these, 
 when they see themselves threatened by the 
 approach of the hawk, immediately take to 
 the skies. They fly almost perpendicularly 
 upward, while their ardent pursuer keeps pace 
 with their flight, and tries to rise above them. 
 Thus both diminish by degrees from the gazing 
 spectator below, till they are quite lost in the 
 clouds ; but they are soon seen descending, 
 struggling together, and using every effort on 
 both sides ; the one of rapacious insult, the 
 other of desperate defence. The unequal com- 
 bat is soon at an end ; the falcon comes off 
 victorious, and the other, killed or disabled, 
 is made a prey either to the bird or the sports- 
 man. 
 
 As for other birds, they are not so much 
 pur-sued, as they generally fly straight forward, 
 by which the sportsman loses sight of the chase, 
 and, what is still worse, runs a chance of 
 losing his falcon also. The pursuit of the lark 
 by a couple of merlins is considered, to him 
 only who regards the sagacity of the chase, as 
 one of the most delightful spectacles this ex- 
 ercise can afford. The amusement is to see 
 one of the merlins climbing to get the ascend- 
 ant of the lark, while the other, lying low for 
 the best advantage, waits the success of its 
 companion's efforts ; thus while the one stoops 
 to strike its prey, the other seizes it at its com- 
 ing down. 
 
 Such are the natural and acquired habits of 
 these birds, which of all others have the great- 
 est strength and courage relative to their size. 
 While the kite or the goss-hawk approach their 
 prey sideways, these dart perpendicularly, in 
 their wild state, upon their game, and devour 
 it on the spot, or carry it oft", if not too large 
 for their powerof flying. They are sometimes 
 seen descending perpendicularly from t!;e 
 
 clouds, from an amazing height, and darting 
 down on their prey with inevitable swiftness 
 and destruction. 
 
 The more ignoble race of birds make up by 
 cunning and assiduity what these claim by 
 force and celerity. Being less courageous, 
 they are more patient ; and, having less swift- 
 ness, they are better skilled at taking their 
 prey by surprise. The kite, that may be dis- 
 tinguished from all the rest of this tribe by his 
 forky tail and his slow floating motion, seems 
 almost for ever upon the wing. He appears 
 to rest himself upon the bosom of the air, and 
 not to make the smallest effort in flying. He 
 lives only upon accidental carnage, as almost 
 every bird in the air is able to make good its 
 retreat against him. He may be therefore 
 considered as an insidious thief, who only 
 prowls about, and, when he finds a small bird 
 wounded, or a young chicken strayed too far 
 from the mother, instantly seizes the hour of 
 calamity, and, like a famished glutton, is sure 
 to show no mercy. His hunger, indeed, often 
 urges him to acts of seeming desperation. I 
 have seen one of them fly round and round for 
 a while to mark a clutch of chickens, and then 
 on a sudden dart like lightning upon the unre- 
 sisting little animal, and carry it off, the hen in 
 vain crying out, and the boys hooting and 
 casting stones to scare it from its plunder. 
 For this reason, of all birds the kite is the 
 good housewife's greatest tormentor and aver- 
 sion. 
 
 Of all obscene birds, the kite is the best 
 known ; but the buzzard among us is the 
 most plenty. He is a sluggish inactive bird, 
 and often remains perched whole days together 
 upon the same bough. He is rather an assassin 
 than a pursuer; and lives more upon frogs, 
 mice, and insects, which he can easily seize, 
 than upon birds which he is obliged to follow. 
 He lives in summer by robbing the nests of 
 other birds, and sucking their eggs, and more 
 resembles the owl kind in his countenance 
 than any other rapacious bird of day. His 
 figure implies the stupidity of his disposition ; 
 and so little is he capable of instruction from 
 man, that it is common to a proverb to call 
 one who cannot be taught, or continues obsti- 
 nately ignorant, a buzzard. The honey-buz- 
 zard, the moor-buzzard, and the hen-harrier, 
 are all of this stupid tribe, and differ chiefly 
 in their size, growing less in the order I have 
 
 4B* 
 
486 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 named them. The goss-hawk and sparrow- 
 hawk are what Mr. Willoughby calls short- 
 winged birds, and consequently unfit for train- 
 ing, however injurious they may be to the 
 pigeon-house or the sportsman. They have 
 been indeed taught to fly at game ; but little 
 
 is to be obtained from thrir efforts, being 
 difficult of instruction, and capricious in their 
 obedience. It has been lately asserted, how- 
 ever, by one whose authority is respectable, 
 that the sparrow-hawk is the boldest and the 
 best of all others for the pleasure of the chase.* 
 
 CHAPTER LXXXVI. 
 
 THE BUTCHER-BIRD. 
 
 BEFORE I conclude this short history of 
 rapacious birds that prey by day, I must take 
 leave to describe a tribe of smaller birds, that 
 seem from their size rather to be classed with 
 the harmless order of the sparrow kind ; but 
 that from their crooked beak, courage, and 
 appetites for slaughter, certainly deserve a place 
 here. The lesser butcher-bird is not much 
 above the size of a lark ; that of the smallest 
 species is not so big as a sparrow ; yet diminu- 
 tive as these little animals are, they make 
 themselves formidable to birds four times their 
 dimensions. 
 
 The greater butcher-bird is about as large 
 as a thrush ; its bill is black, an inch long, and 
 hooked at the end. This mark, together with 
 its carnivorous appetites, ranks it among the 
 rapacious birds ; at the same time that its legs 
 and feet, which are slender, and its toes, form- 
 ed somewhat differently from the former, 
 would seem to make it the shade between 
 such birds as live wholly upon flesh, and such 
 as live chiefly upon insects and grain. 
 
 Indeed, its habits seem entirely to corres- 
 pond with its conformation, as it is found to 
 live as well upon flesh as upon insects, and 
 thus to partake in some measure of a double 
 
 The Secretary Falcon, an inhabitant of Asia and 
 Africa, is a curious bird, for whose natural history we are 
 chiefly indebted to the indefatigable labours of M. le 
 Vuillant. Its body, when standing erect, is not much un- 
 like the crane ; but its head, bill, and claws, are precisely 
 those of the falcon. The general colour of the plumage 
 is a bluish-ash ; the tips of the wings, the thighs, and the 
 vent, being blackish : the tail is black near the end, but 
 the very tip is white: the legs are long, so that it mea- 
 sures, when standing erect, full three feet from the top of 
 the head to the ground. On the back of the head are 
 
 nature. However, its appetite for flesh is the 
 most prevalent ; and it never takes up with 
 the former when it can obtain the latter. 
 This bird, then-fore, leads a life of continual 
 combat and opposition. As from its size it 
 does not much terrify the smaller birds of the 
 forest, so it very frequently meets birds will- 
 ing to try its strength, and it never declines 
 the engagement. 
 
 It is wonderful to see with what intrepidity 
 this little creature goes to war with the pie, 
 the crow, and the kestril, all above four times 
 bigger than itself, and that sometimes prey 
 upon flesh in the same manner. It not only 
 fights upon the defensive, but often comes to 
 the attack, and always with advantage, par- 
 ticularly when the male and female unite to 
 protect thi-ir young, and to drive away the 
 more powerful birds of rapine. At that sea- 
 son, they do not wait the approach of their in- 
 vader ; it is sufficient that they see him pre- 
 paring for the assault at a distance. It is then 
 that they sally forth with loud cries, wound 
 him on every side, and drive him off with such 
 fury, that he seldom ventures to return to the 
 charge. In these kinds of disputes, they 
 generally come off with the victory ; though it 
 
 several long dark-coloured feathers, hanging down behind; 
 and which it can erect at pleasure. This crest has induced 
 the Dutch at the Cape to give it the name of the Secre- 
 tary, from the resemblance they fancy it has to the pen of 
 a writer, when in the time of leisure it is stuck behind the 
 ear. 
 
 In the craw of one of this kind, M. le Vaillant found 
 eleven tolerable large lizards, three serpents as long as 
 his arm, eleven small tortoises of about two inches in di- 
 ameter, and a number of locusts and other insects, some of 
 which were so entire, that he added .them to his collection. 
 
THE BUTCHER BIRD. 
 
 487 
 
 sometimes happens that they fall to the ground 
 with the bird they have so fiercely fixed upon, 
 and the conibnt ends with the destruction of 
 the assailant as well as the defender. 
 
 For this reason, the most redoubtable birds 
 of prey respect them ; while the kite, the buz- 
 zard, and the crow, seem rather to fear than 
 seek the engagement. Nothing in nature 
 better displays the respect paid to the claims 
 of courage, than to see this little bird, appa- 
 rently so contemptible, fly in company with 
 the lanner, the falcon, and all the tyrants of 
 the air, without fearing their power, or avoid- 
 ing their resentment. 
 
 As for small birds, they are its usual food. 
 It seizes them by the throat, and strangles 
 them in an instant. When it has thus killed 
 the bird or insect, it is asserted by the best 
 authority, that it fixes them upon some neigh- 
 bouring thorn, and, when thus spitted, pulls 
 them to pieces with its bill. It is supposed, 
 that as nature has not given this bird str-ngth 
 sufficient to lear their prey to pieces with its 
 feet, as the hawks do, it is obliged to have re- 
 course to this extraordinary expedient. 
 
 During summer, such of them as constantly 
 reside here, for the smaller red butcher-bird 
 migrates, remain aniong the mountainous parts 
 of the country : but in winter they descend into 
 the plains, and nearer human habitations. 
 The larger kind make their nests on the high- 
 est trees, while the lesser build in bushes in 
 the fields and hedge-rows. They both lay 
 about six eggs, of a white colour, but encir- 
 cled at the bigger end with a ring of brownish 
 red. The nest on the outside is composed of 
 white moss, interwoven with long grass ; 
 within it is well lined with wool, and is usual- 
 ly fixed among the forking branches of a tree. 
 The female feeds her young with caterpillars 
 and other insects while very young ; but soon 
 after accustoms them to flesh, which the male 
 procures with surprising industry. Their 
 
 The great Butcher-bird of America makes use of a 
 curious stratagem to decoy and seize its prey. A gentle- 
 man accidentally observing that several grasshoppers were 
 stuck upon some sharp thorns, inquired of a person, who 
 lived close by, the cause of this appearance ; and was in- 
 formed, that they were placed there by this bird, which is 
 
 nature also is very different from other birds 
 of prey it their parental care ; for, so far from 
 driving out their young from the nest to shift 
 for themselves, they keep them with care ; 
 and even when adult they do not forsake them, 
 but the whole brood live in one family together. 
 Each family lives npart, and is generally corn- 
 posed of the male, female, and five or six 
 young ones; these all maintain peace and 
 subordination among each other, and hunt in 
 concert. Upon the returning season of court- 
 ship, this union is at an end, the family parts 
 for ever, each to establish a little household of 
 its own. It is easy to distinguish these birds 
 at a distance, not only from their going in 
 companies, but also from their manner of fly- 
 ing, which is always up and down, seldom 
 direct or sideways. 
 
 Of these birds there are three or four differ- 
 ent kinds ; but the greater ash-coloured but- 
 cher-bird is the least known among us. The 
 red-backed butcher-bird migrates in autumn, 
 and does not return till spring. The wood- 
 chat resembles the former, except in the colour 
 of the back, which is brown, and not red as in 
 the other. There is still another, less than 
 either of the former, found in the rn;irshes 
 near London. This too is a bird of prey, 
 although not much bigger than a titmouse ; 
 an evident proof that an animal's courage or 
 rapacity does not depend upon its size. Of 
 foreign birds of this kind there are several ; 
 but as we know little of their manner of Jiving, 
 we will not, instead of history, substitute mere 
 description. In fact, the colours of a bird, 
 which is all we know of them, would afford a 
 reader but small entertainment iu the enume- 
 ration. Nothing can be more easy than to fill 
 volumes with the different shades of a bird's 
 plumage ; but these accounts are written 
 with more pleasure than they are read ; and a 
 single glance of a good plate or a picture im- 
 prints a justeridea than a volume could convey." 
 
 there called the nine-killer, from the supposition that nine 
 are always stuck up in succession. On further inquiry, 
 he was led to suppose, that this was an instinctive strata- 
 gem, adopted for the purpose of tempting the smaller 
 birds into a situation where he could easily dart out upon 
 them and seize them. 
 
488 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 CHAPTER LXXXVII. 
 
 OF RAPACIOUS BIRDS OF THE OWL KIND, THAT PREY BY NIGHT. 
 
 HITHERTO we have been describing a 
 tribe of animals who, though plunderers 
 among their fellows of the air, yet wage war 
 boldly in the face of day. We now come to 
 a race equally cruel and rapacious ; but who 
 add to their savage disposition, the further 
 reproach of treachery, and carry on all their 
 depredations by night. 
 
 All birds of the owl kind may be consider- 
 ed as nocturnal robbers, who, unfitted for 
 taking their prey while it is light, surprise it 
 at those hours of rest, when the tribes of na- 
 ture are in the least expectation of an ene- 
 my. Thus there seems no link in nature's 
 chain broken: no where a dead inactive re- 
 pose ; but every place, every season, every 
 hour of the day and night, is bustlifig with 
 life, and furnishing instances of industry, self- 
 defence, and invasion. 
 
 All birds of the owl kind have one com- 
 mon mark, by which they are distinguished 
 from others; their eyes are formed for seeing 
 better in the dusk than in the broad glare 
 of sun- shine. As in the eyes of tigers and 
 and cats, that are formed for a life of noctur- 
 nal depredation, there is a quality in the re- 
 tina that takes in the rays of light so copious- 
 ly as to permit their seeing in places almost 
 quite dark ; so in these birds there is the 
 same conformation of that organ, and though, 
 like us, they cannot see in a total exclusion 
 of light, yet they are sufficiently quick-sighted, 
 at times when we remain in total obscurity. 
 In the eyes of all animals, nature hath made 
 a complete provision, either to shut out too 
 much light, or to admit a sufficiency, by the 
 contraction and dilatation of the pupil. In 
 these birds the pupil is capable of opening 
 very wide, or shutting very close: by con- 
 tracting the pupil, the brighter light of the 
 day, which would act too powerfully upon 
 the sensibility of the retina, is excluded; by 
 dilating the pupil, the animal takes in the 
 more faint rays of the night, and thereby is 
 
 enabled to spy its prey, and catch it with 
 greater facility in the dark. Beside this, 
 there is an irradiation on the back of the eye, 
 and the very iris itself has a faculty of reflect- 
 ing the rays of light, so as to assist vision in 
 the gloomy places where these birds are 
 found to frequent. 
 
 But though owls are dazzled by too bright 
 a day-light, yet they do not see best in the 
 darkest nights, as some have been apt to 
 imagine. It is in the dusk of the evening, or 
 the gray of the morning, that they are best 
 fitted for seeing, at those seasons when there 
 is neither too much light, nor too little. It 
 is then that they issue from their retreats, to 
 hunt or to surprise their prey, which is usu- 
 ally attended with great success: it is then 
 that they find all other birds asleep, or pre- 
 paring for repose, and they have only to seize 
 the most unguarded. 
 
 The nights when the moon shines are the 
 times of their most successful plunder; for 
 when it is wholly dark, they are less qualified 
 for seeing and pursuing their prey : except, 
 therefore, by moonlight, they contract the 
 hours of their chace; and if they come out 
 at the approach of dusk in the evening, they 
 return before it is totally dark, and then rise 
 by twilight the next morning to pursue their 
 game, and to return in like manner, before 
 the broad day-light begins to dazzle them 
 with its splendour. 
 
 Yet the faculty of seeing in the night, or of 
 being entirely dazzled by day, is not alike in 
 every species of these nocturnal birds: some 
 see by night better than others; and some 
 are so little dazzled by day-light, that they 
 perceive their enemies, and avoid them. The 
 common White or Barn Owl, for instance, 
 sees with such exquisite acuteness in the 
 dark, that though the barn has been shut at 
 night, and the light thus totally excluded, yet 
 it perceives the smallest mouse that peeps 
 from its hole: on the contrary, the Brown 
 
THE OWL KIND. 
 
 489 
 
 Horned Owl is often seen to prowl along ilic 
 hedges by day, like the sparrow-hawk; and 
 sometimes with good success. 
 
 All birds of the owl kind may be divided 
 into two sorts ; those that have horns, and 
 those without. These horns are nothing 
 more than two or three feathers that stand 
 upon each side of the head over the ear, and 
 give thi- animal a kind of horned appearance. 
 Of the horned kind is, the Great Horned Owl, 
 which at first view appears as large as an ea- 
 gle. When he comes to be observed more 
 closely, however, he will be found much less. 
 His legs, body, wings, and tail, are shorter; 
 his head much larger and thicker: his horns 
 are C.M.'I posed of feathers that rise above two 
 inches and a half high, and which he can 
 erect or depress at pleasure: his eyes are 
 large and transparent, encircled with an 
 orange-coloured iris: his ears are large and 
 deep, and it would appear that no animal 
 was possessed with a more exquisite sense of 
 hearing: his plumage is of a reddish brown, 
 marked on the back with black and yellow 
 spots, and yellow only upon the belly. 
 
 Next to this is the Common Horned Owl, 
 of a much smaller size than the former, and 
 with horns much shorter. As the great owl 
 was five feet from the tip of one wing to the 
 other, this is but three. The horns are but 
 about an inch long, and consist of six feathers, 
 variegated with black and yellow. 
 
 There is still a smaller kind of the horned 
 owl, which is not much larger than a black- 
 bird ; and whose horns are remarkably short, 
 being composed but of one feather, and that 
 riot above half an inch high. 
 
 To these succeeds the tribe without horns. 
 The HOWLET, which is the largest of this kind, 
 with dusky plumes and black eyes; the 
 SCREECH OWL, of a smaller size, with blue eyes, 
 and plumage of an iron gray; the WHITE OWL, 
 about as large as the former, with yellow eyes 
 arid whitish plumage; the OREAT KROWN OWL, 
 less than the former, with brown plumage and 
 a brown beak: and, lastly, the LITTLE BROWN 
 OWL, with yellowish coloured eyes, and an 
 orange-coloured bill. To this catalogue 
 might be added others of foreign denomina- 
 tions, which diflHT but little from our own, 
 it we except the HAKFANG, or GREAT HUDSON'S 
 BAY OWL of Edwards, which is the largest of 
 
 all the nocturnal tribe, and as white as the 
 snows of the country of which he is a native. 
 
 All this tribe of animals, however they may 
 differ in their size and plumage, agree in their 
 general characteristics of preying by night, 
 and having their eyes formed for nocturnal 
 vision. Their bodies are strong and muscu- 
 lar; their feet and claws made for tearing 
 their prey; and their stomachs for digesting 
 it. It must be remarked, however, that the 
 digestion of all birds that live upon mice, li- 
 zards, or such like food, is not very perfect; 
 for though they swallow them whole, yet 
 they are always seen some time after to dis- 
 gorge the skin and bones, rolled up in a pel- 
 let, as being indigestible. 
 
 In proportion as each of these animals 
 bears the day -light best, he sets forward ear- 
 lier in the evening in pursuit of his prey. 
 The great horned owl is the foremost in leav- 
 ing his retreat; and ventures into the woods 
 and thickets very soon in the evening. The 
 horned, and the brown owl, are later in their 
 excursions : but the barn-owl seems to see 
 best in profound darkness, and seldom leaves 
 his hiding-place till midnight. 
 
 As they are incapable of supporting the 
 light of the day, or at least of then seeing 
 and readily avoiding their danger, they keep 
 all this time concealed in some obscure re- 
 treat, suited to their gloomy appetites, and 
 there continue in solitude and silence. The 
 cavern of a rock, the darkest part of a hollow 
 tree, the battlements of a ruined and unfre- 
 quented castle, some obscure hole in a fo.rm- 
 er's out-house, are the places where they are 
 usually found : if they be seen out of these 
 retreats in the day-time, they may be con- 
 sidered as having lost their way; as having 
 by some accident been thrown into the midst 
 of their enemies, and surrounded with dan- 
 ger. 
 
 Having spent the day in their retreat, at 
 the approach of evening they sally forth, and 
 skim rapidly up and down along the hedges. 
 The barn-owl, indeed, who lives chiefly upon 
 mice, is contented to be more stationary: he 
 takes his residence upon some shock of corn, 
 or the point of some old house ; and there 
 watches in the dark, with the utmost perspi- 
 cacity and perseverance. 
 
 Nor are these birds by any means silent; 
 
-190 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 they all have an hideous note; which, while 
 pursuing their prey, is seldom heard ; but may 
 be considered rather as a call to courtship. 
 There is something always terrifying in this 
 call, which is often heard in the silence of 
 midnight, and breaks the general pause with a 
 horrid variation. It is different in all ; but in 
 each it is alarming and disagreeable. Father 
 Kircher, who has set the voices of birds to 
 music, has given all the tones of the owl note, 
 which make a most tremendous melody. 
 Indeed, the prejudices of mankind are united 
 with their sensations to make the cry of the 
 owl disagreeable. The screech-owl's voice 
 was always considered among the people as a 
 presage of- some sad calamity that was soon to 
 ensue. 
 
 They seldom, however, are heard while 
 they are preying ; that important pursuit is 
 always attended with silence, as it is by no 
 means their intention to disturb or forewarn 
 those little animals they wish to surprise. 
 When their pursuit has been successful, they 
 soon return to their solitude, or to their young, 
 if that be the season. If, however, they find 
 but little game, they continue their quest still 
 longer; and it sometimes happens that, obey- 
 ing the dictates of appetite rather than of pru- 
 dence, they pursue so long that broad day 
 breaks in upon them, and leaves them dazzled, 
 bewildered, and at a distance from home. 
 
 In this distress they are obliged to take shel- 
 ter in the first tree or hedge that offers, there 
 to continue concealed all day, till the returning 
 darkness once more supplies them with a bet- 
 ter plan of the country. But it too often hap- 
 pens that, with all their precautions to conceal 
 themselves, they are spied out by the other 
 birds of the place, and are sure to receive no 
 mercy. The blackbird, the thrush, the jay, 
 the bunting, and the red-breast, all come in 
 file, and employ their little arts of insult and 
 abuse. The smallest, the feeblest, and the 
 most contemptible of this unfortunate bird's 
 eremies, are then the foremost to injure and 
 torment him. They increase their cries and 
 turbulence round him, flap him with their 
 wings, and are ready to show their courage to 
 be great, as they are sensible that their danger 
 is but small. The unfortunate owl, not know- 
 ing where to attack or where to fly, patiently 
 sits and suffers all their insults. Astonished 
 and dizzy, he only replies to their mockeries 
 
 by awkward and ridiculous gestures, by turn- 
 ing his head and rolling his eyes with an air of 
 stupidity. It is enough that an owl appears 
 by day, to set the whole grove into a kind of 
 uproar. Either the aversion all the small 
 birds have to this animal, or the consciousness 
 of their own security, makes them pursue him 
 without ceasing, while they encourage each 
 other by their mutual cries to lend assistance 
 in this laudable undertaking. 
 
 It sometimes happens, however, that the 
 little birds pursue their insults with the same 
 imprudent zeal with which the owl himself 
 had pursued his depredations. They hunt 
 him the whole day until evening returns ; 
 which restoring him his faculties of sight once 
 more, he makes the foremost of his pursuers 
 pay dear for their former sport. Nor is man 
 always an unconcerned spectator here. The 
 bird-catchers have got an art of counterfeiting 
 the cry of the owl exactly ; and having before 
 lined the branches of a hedge, they sit unseen, 
 and give the call. At this, all the little birds 
 flock to the place where they expect to find 
 their well-known enemy ; but is^tead of find- 
 ing their stupid antagonist, they are stuck fast 
 to the hedge themselves. This sport must be 
 put in practice an hour before night-fall, in 
 order to be successful ; for if it is put off till 
 later, those birds which but a few minutes 
 sooner came to provoke their enemy, will then 
 fly from hirn with as much terror as they just 
 before showed insolence. 
 
 It is not unpleasant to see one stupid bird 
 made, in some sort, a decoy to deceive another. 
 The great horned owl is sometimes made use 
 of for this purpose to lure the kite, when fal- 
 coners desire to catch him for the purposes of 
 training the falcon. Upon this occasion they 
 clap the tail of a fox to the great owl, to render 
 his figure extraordinary; in which trim he sails 
 slowly along, flying low, which is his usual 
 manner. The kite, either curious to observe 
 this odd kind of animal, or perhaps inquisitive 
 to see whether it may not be proper for food, 
 flies after, and comes nearer and nearer. In 
 this manner he continues to hover, and some- 
 times to descend, till the falconer setting a 
 strong-winged hawk against him, seizes him 
 for the purpose of training his young ones at 
 home. 
 
 The usual place where the great horned owl 
 breeds is in the cavern of a rock, the hollow of 
 
THE OWL KIND. 
 
 491 
 
 a tree, or the turret of some ruined castle. Its 
 nest is near three feet in diameter, and com- 
 posed of sticks, bound together by the fibrous 
 roots of trees, and lined with leaves on the in- 
 side. It lays about three eggs, which are 
 larger than those of a hen, and of a colour 
 somewhat resembling the bird itself. The 
 young ones are very voracious, and the parents 
 not less expert at satisfying the call of hunger. 
 The lesser owl of this kind never makes a nest 
 for itself, but always takes up with the old nest 
 of some other bird, which it has often been 
 forced to abandon. It lays four or five eggs ; 
 and the young are all white at first, but change 
 colour in about a fortnight. The other owls 
 in general build near the place where they 
 chiefly prey ; that which feeds upon birds, in 
 some neighbouring grove ; that which preys 
 chiefly upon mice, near some farmer's yard, 
 where the proprietor of the place takes care to 
 give it perfect security. In fact, whatever 
 mischief one species of owl may do in the 
 woods, the barn owl makes a sufficient recom- 
 pense for, by being equally active in destroy- 
 ing mice nearer home ; so that a single owl is 
 said to be more serviceable than half a dozen 
 cats, in ridding the barn of its domestic vermin. 
 
 Mr. Constedt, in the Transactions of the Philosophi- 
 cal Society of Stockholm, gives a pleasing instance of their 
 attachment to their young. A young owl having quitted 
 the nest, in the month of July, was caught by his servants, 
 and shut up in a large hen-coop. The next morning a 
 young partridge was found lying dead hefore the door of 
 the coop. For fourteen successive nights the same cir- 
 
 " In the year 1580," says an old writer, " at 
 Hallontide, an army of mice so over-run the 
 marshes near Southminster, that they eat up 
 the grass to the very roots. But at length a 
 great number of strange painted owls came 
 and devoured all the mice." The like hap- 
 pened again in Essex about sixty years after. 
 To conclude our account of these birds, 
 they are all very shy of man, and extremely 
 indocile and difficult to be tamed. The white 
 owl in particular, as Mr. Buffon asserts, cannot 
 be made to live in captivity ; I suppose he 
 means, if it be taken when old. " They 
 live," says he, " ten or twelve days in the 
 aviary where they are shut up ; but they re- 
 fuse all kind of nourishment, and at last die of 
 hunger. By day they remain without moving 
 upon the floor of the aviary ; in the evening 
 they mount on the highest perch, where 
 they continue to make a noise like a man 
 snoring with his mouth open. This seems 
 designed as a call for their old companions 
 without ; and, in fact, I have "seen several 
 others come to the call, and perch upon the 
 roof of the aviary, where they made the same 
 kind of hissing, and soon after permitted 
 themselves to be taken in a net."" 
 
 cumstance was repeated ; plainly proving that it had been 
 brought there by the old owls as a provision for the young 
 one. Till the month of August, various articles of food, 
 as young partridges, moor-fowl, pieces of lamb, and other 
 substances, were regularly brought ; after which time the 
 parents discontinued their attendance. 
 
 NO. 41 & 42. 
 
 4C 
 
492 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 OF BIRDS OF THE POULTRY KIND. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXXVIII. 
 
 OF BIRDS OF THE POULTRY KIND IN GENERAL. 
 
 FROM the most rapacious and noxious 
 tribe' of birds, we make a transition to those 
 which of all others are the most harmless, and 
 the most serviceable to man. He may force 
 the rapacious tribes to assist his pleasures in 
 the field, or induce the smaller warblers to 
 delight him with their singing ; but it is from 
 the poultry kind that he derives the most solid 
 advantages, as they not only make a con- 
 siderable addition to the necessaries of life, 
 but furnish out the greatest delicacies to every 
 entertainment. 
 
 Almost, if not all, the domestic birds of the 
 poultry kind that we maintain in our yards, 
 are of foreign extraction ; but there are others 
 to be ranked in this class that are as yet in a 
 state of nature ; and perhaps only wait till 
 they become sufficiently scarce to be taken 
 under the care of man, to multiply their pro- 
 pagation. It will appear remarkable enough, 
 if we consider how much the tarne poultry 
 which we have imported from distant climates 
 has increased, and how much those wild birds 
 of the poultry kind that have never yet been 
 taken into keeping have been diminished and 
 destroyed. They are all thinned ; and many 
 of the species, especially in the more culti- 
 vated and populous parts of the kingdom, are 
 utterly unseen. 
 
 Under birds of the poultry kind I rank all 
 those that have white flesh, and, comparatively 
 to their head and limbs, have bulky bodies. 
 They are furnished with shorr strong bills for 
 picking up grain, which is their chief and often 
 their only sustenance. Their wings are short 
 and concave ; for v\ Inch reason they are not 
 able to fly far. They lay a great many eggs ; 
 and, as they lead their young abroad the very 
 
 day they are hatched, in quest of food, which 
 they are shown by the mother, and which they 
 pick up for themselves, they generally make 
 tneir nests on the ground. The toes of all 
 these are united by a membrane as far as the 
 first articulation, and then are divided as in 
 those of the former class. 
 
 Under this class we may therefore rank the 
 comnion cock, the peacock, the turkey, the 
 pintada or Guinea-hen, the pheasant, the bus- 
 tard, the grouse, the partridge, and the quail. 
 These all bear a strong similitude to each 
 other, being equally granivorous, fleshy, and 
 delicate to the palate. These are among birds 
 what beasts of pasture are among quadrupeds, 
 peaceable tenants of the field, and shunning 
 the thicker parts of the forest, that abound 
 with numerous animals, who carry on unceas- 
 ing hostilities against them. 
 
 As nature has formed the rapacious class for 
 war, so she seems equally to have fitted these 
 for peace, rest, and society. Their wings are 
 but short, so that they are ill formed for wan- 
 dering from one region to another; their bills 
 are also short, and incapable of annoying their 
 opposers ; their legs are strong, indeed, but 
 their toes are made for scratching up their 
 food, and not for holding or tearing it. These 
 are sufficient indications of their harmless 
 nature ; while their bodies, which are fat and 
 fleshy, render them unwieldy travellers, and 
 incnpable of straying far from each other. 
 
 Accordingly we find them chiefly m society; 
 they live together; and though they may have 
 their disputes, like all other animals, upon 
 som" Kvt-sioris, yet when kept in the same 
 district, or fed in the same yard, they learn 
 the arts of subordination ; and, in proportion 
 
THE POULTRY KIND. 
 
 493 
 
 as each knows his strength, he seldom tries 
 a second time the combat where he has once 
 been worsted. 
 
 In this manner, all of this kind seem to 
 lead an indolent voluptuous life ; as they are 
 furnished internally with a very strong sto- 
 mach, commonly called a gizzard, so their 
 voraciousness scarcely knows any bounds. 
 If kept in close captivity, and separated from 
 all their former companions, they still have 
 the pleasure of eating left; and they soon 
 grow fat and unwieldy in their prison. To 
 say this more simply, many of the wilder spe- 
 cies of birds, when cooped or caged, pine 
 away, grow gloomy, and some refuse all sus- 
 tenance whatever; none, except those of the 
 poultry kind, grow fat. who seem to lose all 
 remembrance of their former liberty, satis- 
 fied with indolence and plenty. 
 
 The poultry kind may be considered as 
 eensual epicures, solely governed by their ap- 
 petites. The indulgence of these seems to 
 influence their other habits, and destroys 
 among them that connubial fidelity for which 
 most other kinds are remarkable. The ea- 
 gle and the falcon, how fierce soever to other 
 animals, ;ire yet gentle and true to each other; 
 their connexions, when once formed, con- 
 tinue till death; and the male and female, in 
 every exigence, and every duty, lend faithful 
 assistance to each other. They assist each 
 other in the production of their young, in pro- 
 viding for them when produced ; and even 
 then, though they drive them forth to fight 
 their own battles, yet the old ones still retain 
 their former affection to each other, and sel- 
 dom part far asunder. 
 
 But it is very different with this luxurious 
 class I am now describing. Their courtship 
 is but short, and their congress fortuitous. 
 The male takes no heed of his offspring ; and 
 satisfied with the pleasure of getting, leaves 
 to the female all the care of providing for 
 posterity. Wild and irregular in his appetites, 
 he ranges from one to another; and claims 
 every female which he is strong enough to 
 keep from his fellows. Though timorous 
 when opposed to birds of prey, yet he is in- 
 
 credibly bold among those of his own kind ; 
 and but to see a male of his own species is 
 sufficient to produce a combat. As his 
 desires extend to all, every creature be- 
 comes his enemy that pretends to be his 
 rival. 
 
 The female, equally without fidelity or at- 
 tachment, yields to the most powerful. She 
 stands by, a quiet meretricious spectator of 
 their fury, ready to reward the conqueror 
 with every compliance. She takes upon her- 
 self all the labour of hatching and bringing 
 up her young, and chooses a place for hatch- 
 ing as remote as possible from the cock. In- 
 deed, she gives herself very little trouble in 
 making a nest, as her young ones are to leave 
 it the instant they part from the shell. 
 
 She is equally unassisted in providing for 
 her young, that are not fed with meat put in- 
 to their mouths, as in other classes of the fea- 
 thered kind, but peck their food, and, for- 
 saking their nests, run here and there, fol- 
 lowing the parent wherever it is to be found 
 She leads them forward where they are like 
 ly to have the greatest quantity of grain, and 
 takes care to show, by pecking, the sort pro- 
 per for them to seek for. Thougli at other 
 times voracious, she is then abstemious to an 
 extreme degree ; and intent only on providing 
 for, and showing her young clutch their food, 
 she scarcely takes any nourishment herself. 
 Her parental pride seems to overpower every 
 other appetite; but that decreases in pro- 
 portion as her young ones are more able to 
 provide for themselves, and then all her vo- 
 racious habits return. 
 
 Among the other habits peculiar to this 
 class of birds is that of dusting themselves. 
 They lie flat in some dusty place, and with 
 their wings and feet raise and scatter the 
 dust over their whole body. What may be 
 their reason for thus doing, it is not easy to 
 explain. Perhaps the heat of their bodies is 
 such, that they require this powder to be in- 
 terposed between their feathers, to keep 
 them from lying too close together, and thus 
 increasing that heat with which they are in- 
 commoded. 
 
 4C 
 
494 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 
 CHAPTER LXXXIX. 
 
 OF THE COCK. 
 
 ALL birds taken under the protection of 
 man lose a part of their natural figure, and 
 are altered, not only in their habits, but their 
 very form. Climate, food, and captivity, are 
 three very powerful agents in producing these 
 alterations ; and those birds that have 
 longest felt their influence under human 
 direction, are the most likely to have the 
 greatest variety in their figures, their plumage, 
 and their dispositions. 
 
 Of all other birds, the cock seems to be 
 the oldest companion of mankind, to have 
 been first reclaimed from the forest, and taken 
 to supply the accidental failure of the lux- 
 uries or necessities of life. As he is thus 
 longest under the care of man, so of all others 
 perhaps he exhibits the greatest number of 
 varieties, there being scarce two birds of 
 this species that exactly resemble each other 
 in plumage and form. The tail, which makes 
 such a beautiful figure in the generality of 
 these birds, is yet found entirely wanting in 
 others ; and not only the tail, but the rump 
 also. The toes, which are usually four in all 
 animals of the poultry kind, yet in a species 
 of the cock are found to amount to five. The 
 feathers, which lie so sleek and in such beau- 
 tiful order in most of those we are acquainted 
 with, are in a peculiar breed all inverted, and 
 stand staring the wrong way. Nay, there is 
 a species that comes from Japan, which, in- 
 stead of feathers, seems to be covered over 
 with hair. These, and many other varieties, 
 are to be found in this animal, which seem to 
 be the marks this early prisoner bears of his 
 long captivity. 
 
 It is not well ascertained when the cock 
 was first made domestic in Europe, but it is 
 generally agreed that we first had him in our 
 western world from the kingdom of Persia. 
 Aristophanes calls the cock the Persian bird, 
 and tells us he enjoyed that kingdom before 
 some of its earliest monarchs. This animal 
 was in fact known so early, even in the most 
 
 savage parts of Europe, that we are told the 
 j cock was one of the forbidden foods among 
 : the ancient Britons. Indeed, the domestic fowl 
 seems to have banished the wild one. Persia 
 itself, that first introduced it to our acquain- 
 tance, seems no longer to know it in its natu- 
 ral form ; and if we did not find it wild in 
 some of the woods of India, as well as those 
 of the Islands in the Indian ocean, we might 
 begin to doubt, as we do with regard to the 
 sheep, in what form it first existed in a state of 
 nature. 
 
 But those doubts no longer exist: the cock 
 is found in the island of Tinian, in many 
 others of the Indian ocean, and in the woods 
 on the coast of Malabar, in his ancient state 
 of independence. In his wild condition, his 
 plumage is black and yellow, and his comb 
 and wattles yellow and purple. There is 
 another peculiarity also in those of the Indian 
 woods ; their bones, which when boiled with 
 us are white, as every body knows, in those 
 are as black as ebony. Whether this tincture 
 proceeds from their food, as the bones are 
 tinctured red by feeding upon madder, I leave 
 to the discussion of others : satisfied with the 
 fact, let us decline speculation. 
 
 In their first propagation in Europe, there 
 were distinctions then that now subsist no 
 longer. The ancients esteemed those fowls 
 whose plumage was reddish as invaluable; 
 but as for the white, it was considered as 
 utterly unfit for domestic purposes. These 
 they regarded as subject to become a prey 
 to rapacious birds ; and Aristotle thinks them 
 less fruitful than the former. Indeed, his 
 division of those birds seems to be taken 
 from their culinary uses ; the one sort he calls 
 generous and noble, being remarkable for 
 fecundity; the other sort, ignoble and useless, 
 from their sterility. These distinctions differ 
 widely from our modern notions of generosity 
 in this animal ; that which we call the game- 
 cock being by no means so fruitful as the 
 
THE POULTRY KIND. 
 
 493 
 
 ungenerous dunghill-cock, which we treat 
 with contempt. The Athenians had their 
 cock-matches as well as we: but it is pro- 
 bable they did not enter into our refinement 
 of choosing out the most barren of the spe^ 
 cies for the purposes of combat. 
 
 However this be, no animal in the world 
 has greater courage than the cock, when op- 
 posed to one of his own species; and in 
 every part of the world where refinement and 
 polished manners have not entirely taken 
 place, cock-fighting is a principal diversion. 
 In China, India, the Philippine islands, and 
 all over the East, cock-fighting is the sport 
 and amusement even of kings and princes. 
 With us it is declining every day; and it is 
 to be hoped it will in time become only the 
 pastime of the lowest vulgar. It is the opini- 
 on of many, that we have a bolder and more 
 valiant breed than is to be found elsewhere ; 
 and some, indeed, have entered into a se- 
 rious discussion upon the cause of so flatter- 
 ing a singularity. But the truth is, they have 
 cocks in China as bold, if not bolder, than 
 ours; and, what would still be considered as 
 valuable among cockers here, they have more 
 strength with less weight. Indeed, I have 
 often wondered why men who lay two or 
 three hundred pounds upon the prowess of a 
 single cock, have not taken every method to 
 improve the breed. Nothing, it is probable, 
 could do this more effectually than by cross- 
 ing the strain, as it is called, by a foreign mix- 
 ture ; and whether having recourse even to 
 the wild cock in the forests of India would 
 not be useful, I leave to their consideration. 
 However, it is a mean and ungenerous amuse- 
 ment, nor would I wish much to promote it. 
 The truth is, I could give such instructions 
 with regard to cock-fighting, and could so 
 arm one of these animals against the other, 
 that it would be almost impossible for the ad- 
 versary's cock to survive the first or second 
 blow; but, as Boerhaave has said upon a 
 former occasion, when he was treating upon 
 poisons, " to teach the arts of cruelty is equi- 
 valent to committing them." 
 
 This extraordinary courage in the cock is 
 thought to proceed from his being the most 
 salacious of all other birds whatsoever. A 
 single cock suffices for ten or a dozen hens ; 
 and it is said of him, that he is the only ani- 
 
 mal whose spirits are not abated by indul- 
 gence. But then he soon grows old ; the ra- 
 dical moisture is exhausted; and in three or 
 four years he becomes utterly unfit for the 
 purposes of impregnation. " Hens also," to 
 use the words of Willoughby, " as they for 
 the greatest part of the year daily lay eggs, 
 cannot suffice for so many births, but for the 
 most part after three years become effete 
 and barren : for when they have exhausted 
 all their seed-eggs, of which they had but a 
 certain quantity from the beginning, they 
 must necessarily cease to lay, there being no 
 new ones generated within. 
 
 The hen seldom clutches a brood of chick- 
 ens above once a season, though instances 
 have been known in which they produced 
 two. The number of eggs a domestic hen 
 will lay in the year are above two hundred, 
 provided she be well fed, and supplied with 
 water and liberty. It matters not much whe- 
 ther she be trodden by the cock or no ; she 
 will continue to lay, although all the eggs of 
 this kind can never, by hatching, be brought 
 lo produce a living animal. Her nest is made 
 without any care, if left to herself; a hole 
 scratched into the ground, among a few bush- 
 es, is the only preparation she makes for this 
 season of patient expectation. Nature, al- 
 most exhausted by its own fecundity, seems 
 to inform her of the proper time for hatch- 
 ing, which she herself testifies by a clucking 
 note, and by discontinuing to lay. The good 
 housewives, who often get more by their hens 
 laying than by their chickens, artificially pro- 
 tract this clucking season, and sometimes en- 
 tirely remove it. As soon as their hen be- 
 gins to cluck, they stint her in her provisions; 
 and if that fails, they plunge her inlo cold 
 water: this, for the time, effectually puts 
 back her hatching; but then it often kills the 
 poor bird, who takes cold, and dies under 
 the operation. 
 
 If left entirely to herself, the hen would 
 seldom lay above twenty eggs in the same 
 nest, without attempting to hatch them: but 
 in proportion as she lays, her eggs are re- 
 moved ; and she continues to lay, vainly 
 hoping to increase the number. In the wild 
 state the hen seldom lays above fifteen eggs; 
 but then her provision is more difficultly 
 obtained, and she is perhaps sensible of 
 
496 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 the difficulty of maintaining too numerous a 
 family. 
 
 When the hen begins to sit, nothing can ex- 
 ceed her perseverance and patience ; she con- 
 tinues for some days immoveable ; and when 
 forced away by the importunities of hunger, 
 she quickly returns. Sometimes, also, her 
 eggs become too hot for her to bear, especially 
 if she be furnished with too warm a nest with- 
 in doors, for then she is obliged to leave them 
 to cool a little : thus the warmth of the nest 
 only retards incubation, and often puts the 
 brood a day or two back in the shell. While 
 the hen sits, she carefully turns her eggs, and 
 even removes them to different situations ; till 
 at length, in about three weeks, the young 
 brood begin to give signs of a desire to burst 
 their confinement. When by the repeated 
 efforts of their bill, which serves like a pioneer 
 on this occasion, they have broke themselves 
 a passage through the shell, the hen still con- 
 tinues to sit till all are excluded. The strongest 
 and best chickens generally are the first can- 
 didates for liberty : the weakest come behind, 
 and some even die in the shell. When all 
 are produced, she then leads them forth to pro- 
 vide for themselves. Her affection and her 
 pride seem then to alter her very nature, 
 and correct her imperfections. No longer 
 voracious or cowardly, she abstains from all 
 food that her young can swallow, and flies 
 boldly at every creature that she thinks is 
 Hkcly to do them mischief. Whatever the in- 
 vading animal be, she boldly attacks him; the 
 horse, the hog, or the mastiff. When march- 
 ing at the head of her little troop, she acts the 
 commander, and has a variety of notes to call 
 her numerous train to their food, or to warn 
 them of approaching danger. Upon one of 
 these occasions, I have seen the whole brood 
 run for security into the thickest part of a 
 hedge, when the hen herself ventured boldly 
 forth, and faced a fox that came for plunder. 
 With a good mastiff, however, we soon sent 
 the invader back to his retreat ; but not before 
 he had wounded the hen in several places. 
 
 Ten or twelve chickens are the greatest 
 number that a good hen can rear and clutch 
 at a time ; but as this bears no proportion to 
 the number of her eggs, schemes have been 
 imagined to clutch all the eggs of a hen, and 
 thus turn her produce to the greatest advantage. 
 By these contrivances it has been obtained 
 
 that a hen, that ordinarily produces but twelve 
 chickens in the year, is found to produce as 
 many chickens as eggs, and consequently often 
 above two hundred. The contrivance 1 mean 
 is the artificial method of hatching chickens in 
 stoves, as is practised at Grand Cairo; or in a 
 chymical elaboratory properly graduated, as 
 has been effected by Mr. Reaumur. At Grand 
 Cairo, they thus produce six or seven thousand 
 chickens at a time ; where, as they are brought 
 forth in their mild spring, which is warmer 
 than our summer, the young ones thrive with- 
 out clutching. But it is otherwise in our 
 colder and unequal climate ; the little animal 
 may, without much difficulty, be hatched from 
 the shell ; but they almost all perish when 
 excluded. To remedy this, Reaumur has 
 made use of a woollen hen, as he calls it ; 
 which was nothing more than putting the 
 young ones in a warm basket, and clapping 
 over them a thick woollen canopy. I should 
 think a much better substitute might be found; 
 and this from among the species themselves. 
 Capons may very easily be taught to clutch a 
 fresh brood of chickens throughout the year ; 
 so that when one little colony is thus reared, 
 another may be brought to succeed it. Nothing 
 is more common than to see capons thas em- 
 ployed ; and the manner of teaching them is 
 this : first the capon is made very tatne, so as 
 to feed from one's hand ; then, about evening, 
 they pluck the feathers off his breast, and rub 
 the bare skin with nettles ; they then put the 
 chickens to him, which presently run under 
 his breast and belly, and probably rubbing his 
 bare skin gently with their heads allay the 
 stinging pain which the nettles had just pro- 
 duced. This is repeated for two or three 
 nights, till the animal takes an affection to the 
 chickens that have thus given him relief, and 
 continues to give them the protection they 
 seek for : perhaps also the querulous voice of 
 the chickens may be pleasant to him in misery, 
 and invite him to succour the distressed. He 
 from that time brings up a brood of chickens 
 like a hen, clutching them, feeding them, 
 clucking, and performing all the functions of 
 the tenderest parent. A capon once accus- 
 tomed to this service, will not ^ive over; but 
 when one brood is grown up he :tiay have ano- 
 thernearly hatched putunderhim, which he will 
 treat with thesametendernesshe did the former. 
 The cock, from his salaciousness, is allow- 
 
THE POULTRY KIND. 
 
 497 
 
 ed to be a short lived-aniraal ; but how long 
 these birds live, if left to themselves, is not 
 yet well ascertained by any historian. As 
 they are kept only for profit, and in a few 
 years become unfit for generation, there are 
 few that, from mere motives of curiosity, will 
 make the tedious experiment of maintaining a 
 proper number till they die. Aldrovandus 
 
 hints their age to be ten years ; and it is pro- 
 bable that this may be its extent. They are 
 subject to some disorders, which it is not our 
 business to describe ; and as for poisons, be- 
 sides nux vomica, which is fatal to most ani- 
 mals except man, they are injured, as Linnaeus 
 asserts, by elder-berries, of which they are 
 not a little fond. 
 
 CHAPTER XC. 
 
 OF THE PEACOCK. 
 
 THE Peacock, by the common people of 
 Italy, is said to have the plumage of an angel, 
 the voice of the devil, and the guts of a thief. 
 In fact, each of these qualities mark pretty 
 well the nature of this extraordinary bird. 
 When it appears with its tail expanded, there 
 is none of the feathered creation can vie with 
 it for beauty ; yet the horrid scream of its 
 voice serves to abate the pleasure we find 
 from viewing it ; and still more, its insatia- 
 able gluttony, and spirit of depredation, make 
 it one of the most noxious domestics that man 
 has taken under his protection. 
 
 Our first peacocks were brought from the 
 East Indies; and we are assured, that they 
 are still found in vast flocks, in a wild state, 
 in the Islands of Java and Ceylon. So beau- 
 tiful a bird, and one esteemed such a delicacy 
 at the tables of the luxurious, could not be 
 permitted to continue long at liberty in its 
 distant retreats. So early as the days of 
 Solomon, we find in his navies, among the 
 articles imported from the east, apes and 
 peacocks. ./Elian relates, that they were 
 brought into Greece from some barbarous 
 country, and were held in such high esteem 
 among them, that a male and female were 
 valued at above thirty pounds of our money. 
 We are told also, that when Alexander was 
 in India, he found them flying wild, in vast 
 numbers, on the banks of the river Hyarotis, 
 and wris so struck with their beauty, that he 
 laid n severe fine and pu'-.ishment on all who 
 shoulvl kill or disturb them. Nor are we to 
 be surprised at this, as the Greeks were so 
 
 much struck with the beauty of this kird, 
 when first brought among them, that every 
 person paid a fixed price for seeing it ; and 
 several people came to Athens, from Laced x- 
 mon and Thessaly, purely to satisfy their 
 curiosity. 
 
 It was probably first introduced into the 
 West, merely on account of its beauty ; but 
 mankind, from contemplating its figure, soon 
 came to think of serving it up for a different 
 entertainment. Aufidius Hurco stands charg- 
 ed by Pliny with being the first who fatted 
 up the peacock for the feast of the luxuri- 
 ous. Whatever there may be of delicacy in 
 the flesh of a young peacock, it is certain an 
 old one is very indifferent eating; neverthe- 
 less, there is no mention made of choosing the 
 youngest; it is probable they were killed 
 indiscriminately, the beauty of the feathers 
 in some measure stimulating the appetite. 
 Hortensius, the orator, was the first who 
 served them up at an entertainment at Rome; 
 and from that time they were considered as 
 one of the greatest ornaments of every feast. 
 Whether the Roman method of cookery, 
 which was much higher than ours, might not 
 have rendered them more palatable than we 
 find them at present, I cannot tell; but cer- 
 tain it is, they talk of the peacock as being 
 the first of viands. 
 
 Its fame for delicacy, however, did not 
 continue very long; for we find in the times 
 of Francis the First, that it was a custom to 
 serve up peacocks to the tables of the great, 
 with an intention not to be eaten, but only 
 
498 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 to be seen. Their manner was to strip off 
 the skin ; and then preparing the body with 
 the warmest spices, they covered it up again 
 in its former skin; with all its plumage in full 
 display, and no way injured by the prepara- 
 tion. The bird thus prepared, was often 
 preserved for many years without corrupt- 
 ing ; and it is asserted of the peacock's flesh, 
 that it keeps longer unputrefied than that of 
 any other animal. To give a higher zest to 
 these entertainments, on weddings particu- 
 larly, they filled the bird's beak and throat 
 with cotton and camphire, which they set on 
 fire, to amuse and delight the company. I 
 do not know that the peacock is much used 
 at our entertainments at present, except now 
 and then at an alderman's dinner, or a com- 
 mon-council feast, when our citizens resolve 
 to be splendid ; and even then it is never 
 served with its cotton and camphire. 
 
 Like other birds of the poultry kind, the 
 peacock feeds upon corn, but its chief pre- 
 dilection is for barley. But as it is a very 
 proud and fickle bird, there is scarcely any 
 food that it will not at times covet and pur- 
 sue. Insects and tender plants are often ea- 
 gerly sought at a time that it has a sufficien- 
 cy of its natural food provided more nearly. 
 In the indulgence of these capricious pur- 
 suits, walls cannot easily confine it ; it strips 
 the tops of houses of their tiles or thatch, it 
 lays waste the labours of the gardener, roots 
 up his choicest seeds, and nips his favourite 
 flowers in the bud. Thus its beauty but ill 
 recompenses for the mischief it occasions; 
 and many of the more homely looking fowls 
 are very deservedly preferred before it. 
 
 Nor is the peacock less a debauchee in its 
 affections, than a glutton in its appetites. 
 He is still more salacious than even the cock; 
 and though not possessed of the same vigour, 
 
 yet burns with more immoderate desire. He 
 requires five females at least to attend him ; 
 and if there be not a sufficient number, he 
 will even run upon and tread the sitting hen. 
 For this reason, the peahen endeavours, as 
 much as she can, to hide her nest from the 
 male, as he would otherwise disturb her sit- 
 ting, and break her eggs. 
 
 The peahen seldom lays above five or six 
 eggs in this climate before she sits. Aristotle 
 describes her as laying twelve; and, it is 
 probable, in her native climate, she may be 
 thus prolific ; for it is certain, that in the fo- 
 rests where they breed naturally, they are 
 numerous beyond expression. This bird 
 lives about twenty years ; and not till its 
 third year has it that beautiful variegated 
 plumage that adorns its tail. 
 
 " In the kingdom of Cambaya," says Taver- 
 ner, " near the city of Baroch, whole flocks 
 of them are seen in the fields. They are 
 very shy, however, and it is impossible to 
 come near them. They run off swifter than 
 the partridge; and hide themselves in the 
 thickets, where it is impossible to find them. 
 They perch by night upon trees; and the 
 fowler often approaches them at that season 
 with a kind of banner, on which a peacock 
 is painted to the life on either side. A light- 
 ed torch is fixed on the top of this decoy ; 
 and the peacock, when disturbed, flies to 
 what it takes for another, and is thus caught 
 in a noose, prepared for that purpose." 
 
 There are varieties of this bird, some of 
 which are white, others crested : that which 
 is called the Peacock of Thibet, is the most 
 beautiful of the feathered creation, containing 
 in its plumage all the most vivid colours, red, 
 blue, yellow, and green, disposed in an al- 
 most artificial order, as if merely to please 
 the eye of the beholder. 
 
THE POULTRY KIND. 
 
 499 
 
 CHAPTER XCI. 
 
 THE TURKEY. 
 
 THE natal place of the cock and the pea- 
 cock is pretty well ascertained, but there are 
 stronger doubts concerning the turkey ; some 
 contending,, that it has been brought into Eu- 
 rope from the East Indies many centuries ago; 
 while others assert, that it is wholly unknown 
 in that part of the world, that it is a native of 
 the New Continent, and that it was not brought 
 into Europe till the discovery of that part of 
 the world. 
 
 Those who contend for the latter opinion, 
 very truly observe, that among all the descrip- 
 tions we have of eastern birds, that of the tur- 
 key is not to be found : while, on the contrary, 
 it is very well known in the New Continent, 
 where it runs wild about the woods. It is 
 said by them to have been first seen in France 
 in the reign of Francis I. and in England in 
 that of Henry VIII. which is about the time 
 when Mexico was first conquered by Spain. 
 On the other hand it is asserted, that tlie tur- 
 key, so far from being unknown in Europe 
 before that time, wts known even to the 
 ancients; and that ./Elian has given a pretty 
 just description of it. They allege, that its 
 very name implies its having been brought 
 from some pa-'t of the east ; and that it is found 
 a-aong other dainties served up to the tables 
 of the great, before that time anqong ourselves. 
 But what they pretend to be the strongest 
 proof is, that though the wild turkey be so 
 very common in America, yet the natives can- 
 not contrive to tame it ; and though hatched 
 in the ordinary manner, nothing can render it 
 domestic. In this diversity of opinions, per- 
 haps it is best to suspend assent, till more 
 lights are thrown on the subject : however, I 
 arn inclined to concur with the former opin- 
 ion. 
 
 With us, when young, it is one of the ten- 
 derest of all birds ; yet, in its wild state, it is 
 found in great plenty in the forests of Canada, 
 that are covered with snow above three parts 
 of the year. In the natural woods, they are 
 found much larger than in their state of do- 
 No 43 & 44. 
 
 mestic captivity. They are much more beau- 
 tiful also, their feathers being of a dark gray, 
 bordered at the edges with a bright gold colour. 
 These the savages of the country weave into 
 cloaks to adorn their persons, and fashion into 
 fans and umbrellas, but never once think of 
 taking into keeping animals that the woods 
 furnish them with in sufficient abundance. 
 Savage man seems to find a delight in precari- 
 ous possession. A great part of the pleasure 
 of the chase lies in the uncertainty of the pur- 
 suit, and he is unwilling to abridge bin. self in 
 any accidental success that may attend his 
 fatigues. The hunting the turkey, therefore, 
 makes one of his principal diversions ; as its 
 flesh contributes chiefly to the support of his 
 family. When he has discovered the plnre of 
 their retreat, which, in general, is near fields 
 of nettles, or where there is plenty of anv kind 
 of grain, he takes his dog with him, which is 
 trained to the sport, (a faithful rough creature, 
 supposed to be originally reclaimed from the 
 wolf,) and he sends him into the midst of the 
 flock. The turkeys no sooner perceive their 
 enemy, than they set off running at full speed, 
 and with such swiftness, that they leave the 
 dog far behind them ; he follows, nevertheless, 
 and sensible they must soon be tired, as they 
 cannot go full speed for any length of time, he 
 r.i last forces them to take shelter in a tree, 
 where they sit quite spent and fatigued, till 
 the hunter comes up, and, with a long pole, 
 knocks them down, one after the other. 
 
 This manner of suffering themselves to be 
 destroyed, argues no great instinct in the ani- 
 mal ; and, indeed, in their captive state, they 
 do not appear to be possessed of much. 
 They seem a stupid, vain, querulous tribe, apt 
 enough to quarrel among themselves, yet with- 
 out any weapons to do each other any injury. 
 Every body knows the strange antipathy the 
 turkey-cock has to a red colour ; how he 
 bristles, and, with his peculiar gobbling sound, 
 flies to attack it. But there is another method 
 of increasing the animosity of these birds 
 
 4D 
 
r>oo 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 against each other, which is often practised by 
 boys, when they have a mind for a battle. 
 This is no more than to smear over the head 
 of one of the turkeys with dirt, and the rest 
 run to attack it, with all the speed of impotent 
 animosity : nay, two of them, thus disguised, 
 will fight each other till they are almost suf- 
 focated with fatigue and anger. 
 
 But though so furious among themselves, 
 they are weak and cowardly against other 
 animals, though far less powerful than they. 
 The cock oftdn makes the turkey keep at a 
 distance ; and they seldom venture to attack 
 him but with united force, when they rather 
 oppress him by their weight, than annoy him 
 by their arms. There is no animal, how con- 
 temptible soever, that will venture boldly to 
 face the turkey-cock, that he will not fly from. 
 On the contrary, with the insolence of a bully, 
 he pursues any thing that seems to fear him, 
 particularly lap-dogs and children, against 
 both which he seems to have a peculiar aver- 
 sion. On such occasions, after he has made 
 them scamper, he returns to his female train, 
 displays his plumage around, struts about the 
 yard, and gobbles out a note of self-approba- 
 tion." 
 
 The female seems of a milder, gentler dis- 
 position. Rather querulous than bold, she 
 hunts about in quest of grain, and pursuit of 
 insects, being particularly delighted with the 
 eggs of ants and caterpillars. She lays eigh- 
 teen or twenty eggs, larger than those of a 
 lien, whitish, but marked with spots resembling 
 the freckles of the face. Her young are ex- 
 tremely tender at first, and must be carefully 
 fed with curd chopped with dock leaves ; but 
 as they grow older, they become more hardy, 
 and follow the mother to considerable distan- 
 ces, in pursuit of insect food, which they pre- 
 fer to any other. On these occasions, how- 
 ever, the female, though so large, and, as it 
 
 In the American Medical Repository, an instance is 
 recorded, where the turkey-cock seemed to show a con- 
 siderable share of courage and prowess. A gentleman of 
 New-York received from a distant part a turkey-cock and 
 lien, and with them a pair of bantams : these lie put all 
 together into the yard with liis other poultry. Some time 
 afterwards, as he was feeding them from the barn door, a 
 large hawk suddenly turned the corner of the barn, and 
 made a pounce at the bantam hen : she immediately gave 
 
 would seem, so powerful a bird, gives them 
 but very little protection against the attacks of 
 any rapacious animal that comes in her way. 
 She rather warns her young to shift for them- 
 selves, than prepares to defend them. " I have 
 heard," says the Abbe la Pluche, "a turkey- 
 hen, when at the head of her brood, send forth 
 the most hideous screams, without know ing 
 as yet the cause: however, her young, imme- 
 diately when the warning was given, skulked 
 under the bushes, the grass, or whatever else 
 offered for shelter or protection. They even 
 stretched themselves at their lull length upon 
 the ground, and continued lying as motionless 
 as if they were dead. In the mean time the 
 mother, with her eyes directed upwards, con- 
 tinued her cries and screaming as before. Up- 
 on looking up to where she seemed to gaze, 
 I discovered a black spot just under the clouds, 
 but was unable at first to determine what it 
 was ; however, it soon appeared to be a bird 
 of prey, though at first at too great a distance 
 to be distinguished. I have seen one of these 
 animals continue in this violent agitated state, 
 and her whole brood pinned down as it were 
 to the ground, for four hours together ; whilst 
 their formidable foe has taken his circuits, has 
 mounted, and hovered directly over their heads: 
 at last, upon disappearing, the parent began 
 to change her note, and sent forth another cry, 
 which, in an instant, gave life to the whole 
 trembling tribe, and they all flocked round 
 her with expressions of pleasure, as if consci- 
 ous of their happy escape from danger." 
 
 When once grown up, turkeys are very har- 
 dy birds, and feed themselves at very little ex- 
 pense to the farmer. Those of Norfolk are 
 said to be the largest of this kingdom, weigh- 
 ing from twenty to thirty pounds. There are 
 places, however, in the East Indies, where 
 they are known only in their domestic state, in 
 which they grow r to the weight of sixty pounds. 
 
 the alarm, by a noise which is natural to her on such oc- 
 casions ; when the turkey-cock, who was at the distance 
 of about two yards, and without doubt understood the 
 hawk's intentions, and the immediate danger of his old 
 acquaintance, flew at the tyrant with such violence, and 
 gave him so severe a stroke with his spurs, as to knock 
 him from the hen to a considerable distance; and the 
 timely aid of this friendly auxiliary, completely saved the 
 bantam from being devoured. 
 
THE POULTRY KIND. 
 
 501 
 
 CHAPTER XCI1. 
 
 THE PHEASANT. 
 
 IT would surprise a sportsman to be 
 
 old, that the pheasant, which he finds wild 
 
 n the woods, in the remotest parts of the 
 
 kingdom, and in forests which can scarcely 
 
 be said to have an owner, is a foreign bird, 
 
 and was at first artificially propagated amongst 
 
 us. They were brought into Europe from 
 
 the banks of the Phasis, a river of Colchis, 
 
 in Asia Minor; and from whence they still 
 
 retain their name. 
 
 Next to the peacock, they are the most 
 beautiful of birds, as well lor the vivid co- 
 lour of their plumes, as for their happy mix- 
 tures and variety. It is far beyond the pow- 
 er of the pencil to draw any thing so glossy, 
 so bright, or points so finely blended into 
 each other. We are told that when Croesus, 
 king of Lydia, was seated on his throne, 
 adorned with royal magnificence, and all the 
 barbarous pomp of eastern splendour, he ask- 
 ed Solon if he had ever beheld any thing so 
 fine? The Greek philosopher, no way moved 
 by the objects before him, or taking a pride 
 in his native simplicity, replied, that after ha- 
 ving seen the beautiful plumage of the phea- 
 sant, he could be astonished at no other finery. 
 In fact, nothing can satisfy the eye with a 
 greater variety and richness of ornament than 
 this beautiful creature. The iris of the eye 
 is yellow ; and the eyes themselves are sur- 
 rounded with a scarlet colour, sprinkled with 
 small specks of black. On the forepart of 
 the head there are blackish feathers mixed 
 with a shining purple. The top of the head 
 and the upper part of the neck are tinged 
 with a darkish green, that shines like silk. 
 In .some, the top of the head is of a shining 
 blue, and the head itself, as well as the up- 
 per part of the neck, appears sometimes blue 
 and sometimes green, as it is differently pla- 
 ced to the eye of the spectator. The fea- 
 thers of the breast, the shoulders, the mid- 
 dle of the back, and the sides under the wings, 
 have a blackish ground, with edges tinged 
 
 of an exquisite colour, which appears some- 
 times black and sometimes purple, according 
 to the different lights it is placed in; under 
 the purple there is a transverse streak of gold 
 colour. The tail from the middle feathers 
 to the root is about eighteen inches long; 
 the legs, the feet, and the toes, are of the co- 
 lour of horn. There are black spurs on the 
 legs, shorter than those of a cock ; there is 
 a membrane that connects two of the toes to- 
 gether; and the male is much more beauti- 
 ful than the female. 
 
 This bird, though so beautiful to the eye, 
 is not less delicate when served up to the 
 table. Its flesh is considered as the greatest 
 dainty; and when the old physicians spoke 
 of the wholesoineness of any viands, they 
 made their comparison with the flesh of the 
 pheasant. However, notwithstanding all these 
 perfections to tempt the curiosity or the pa- 
 late, the pheasant has multiplied in its wild 
 state; and, as if disdaining the protection of 
 man, has left him to take shelter in the thick- 
 est woods and the remotest forests. All others 
 of the domestic kind, the cock, the turkey, 
 or the pintada, when once reclaimed, have 
 still continued in their domestic state, and 
 persevered in the habits and appetites of wil- 
 ling slavery. But the pheasant, though ta- 
 ken from its native warm retreats, where the 
 woods supply variety of food, and the warm 
 sun suits its tender constitution, has still con- 
 tinued its attachment to native freedom ; and 
 now wild among us, makes the most envied 
 ornament of our parks and forests, where he 
 feeds upon acorns and berries, and the scan- 
 ty produce of our chilling climate. 
 
 This spirit of independence seems to at- 
 tend the pheasant even in captivity. In the 
 woods, the hen pheasant lays from eighteen 
 to twenty eggs in a season; but in a domes- 
 tic state she seldom lays above ten. In the 
 same manner, when wild she hatches and 
 leads up her brood with patience, vigilance, 
 
 4D* 
 
502 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 and courage; but when kept tame, she never 
 sits well; so that a hen is generally her sub- 
 stitute upon such occasions; and as for lead- 
 ing her young to their food, she is utterly 
 ignorant of where it is to be found ; and the 
 young birds starve, if left solely to her pro- 
 tection. The pheasant therefore, on every 
 account, seems better left at large in the 
 woods, than reclaimed to pristine captivity. 
 Its fecundity when wild is sufficient to stock 
 the forest; its beautiful plumage adorns it; 
 and its flesh retains a higher flavour from its 
 unlimited freedom. 
 
 However, it has been the aim of late to 
 take these birds once more from the woods, 
 and to keep them in places fitted for their 
 reception. Like all others of the poultry 
 kind, they have no great sagacity, and suf- 
 fer themselves easily to be taken. At ni^ht 
 they roost upon the highest trees of the wood ; 
 and by day they come down into the lovver 
 brakes arid bushes, where their food is clnef- 
 ly found. They generally make a kind of 
 flapping noise when they are with the females; 
 and this often apprises the sportsman of their 
 retreats. At other times he tracts them in the 
 snow, and frequently takes them in springes. 
 But of all birds they are shot most easily, as 
 they always make a whirring noise when they 
 rise, by which they alarm the gunner, and 
 being a large mark, and flying very slow, 
 there is scarcely any missing them. 
 
 A li ! what avail his glossy, varying dyes, 
 His purpled crest, and scarlet-circled eyes, 
 The vivid green his shining plumes unfold, 
 His painted wings, and breast that flames with gold ? 
 
 POPE. 
 
 When these birds are taken young into 
 keeping, they become as familiar as chick- 
 ens ; and when they are designed for breed- 
 ing, they are put together in a yard, five hens 
 to a cock; for this bird, like all of the poul- 
 try kind, is very salacious. In her natural 
 state the female- makes her nest of dry grass 
 and leaves; the same must be laid for her in 
 the pheasantry, and she herself will some- 
 times properly dispose them. If she refuses 
 to hatch her eggs, then a common hen must 
 be got to supply her place, which task she 
 will perform with perseverance and success. 
 
 The young ones are very difficult to be rear- 
 ed ; and they must be supplied with ants' eggs, 
 which is the food the old one leads them to 
 gather when wild in the woods. To make 
 these go the farther, they are to be chopped 
 up with curds, or other meat; and the yoong 
 ones are to be fed with great exactness, both 
 as to the quantity and the time of their sup- 
 ply. This food is sometimes also to be va- 
 ried, and woodlice, earwigs, and other insects. 
 are to make a variety. The place where 
 they are reared must be kept extremely clean, 
 their water must be changed twice or thrice 
 a day ; they must not be exposed till the dew 
 is otf'the ground in the morning; and they 
 should always be taken in before sun-set. 
 When they become adult, they very well can 
 shift for themselves, but they are particularly 
 fond of oats and barley. 
 
 In order to increase the breed, and make 
 it still more valuable, Longolius teaches us 
 a method that appears very peculiar. The 
 pheasant is a very bold bird, when first 
 brought into the yard among other poultry, 
 not sparing the peacock, nor even such young 
 cocks and hens as it can master; but after 
 a time it will live tamely among them. and. 
 will at last be brought to couple with a com- 
 mon hen. The breed thus produced take 
 much stronger after the pheasant than the 
 hen ; and in a few successions, if they be left 
 to breed with a cock-pheasant, (for the mix- 
 ture is not barren,) there will be produced a 
 species more tame, stronger, and more pro- 
 lific ; so that he adds, that it is strange why 
 most of our pheasantries are not stocked 
 with birds produced in this manner. 
 
 The pheasant, when full grown, seems to 
 feed indifferently upon every thing that of- 
 fers. It is said by a French writer, that one 
 of the king's sportsmen shooting at a parcel 
 of crows, that were gathered round a dead 
 carcass, to his great surprise upon coming 
 up, found that he had killed as many phea- 
 sants as crows. It is even asserted by some, 
 that such is the carnivorous disposition of this 
 bird, that when several of them are put to- 
 gether in the same yard, if one of them hap- 
 prv.s (o fall sick, or seems to be pining, that 
 all the rest will fall upon, kill, ai>d devour it. 
 Such is the language of books : th >se who 
 have frequent opportunities of examming the 
 
THE POULTRY KIND. 
 
 503 
 
 manners of the bird itself, know what credit 
 ought to be given to such an account. 
 
 Of the pheasant, as of all other domestic 
 fowl, there are many varieties. There are 
 white pheasants, crested pheasants, spotted 
 pheasants ; but of all others, the golden phea- 
 sant of China is the most beautiful, it is a 
 doubt whether the peacock itself can bear 
 the comparison. However, the natives of 
 China would not have us consider it as their 
 
 most beautiful bird, though covered all over 
 with eyes, resembling in miniature those of 
 the peacock. By their accounts, it is far ex- 
 ceeded by the fongwang, an imaginary bird, 
 of which they give a most fantastic descrip- 
 tion. It is thus that the people ol every coun- 
 try, though possessed of the greatest advan- 
 tages, have still others that they would per- 
 suade strangers they enjoy, which have exist- 
 ence only in the imagination. 
 
 CHAPTER XCII1. 
 
 THE PINTADA, OR GUINEA-HEN, 
 
 THIS is a very remarkable bird, and in 
 some measure unites the characteristics of the 
 pheasant and the turkey. It has the fine de- 
 licate shape of the one, and the bare head of 
 the other. To be more particular, it is about 
 the size of a common hen, hut as it is support- 
 ed on longer legs, it looks much larger. It 
 has a round back, with a tail turned down- 
 wards like a partridge. The head is cover- 
 ed with a kind of casque; and the whole 
 plumage is black or dark gray, speckled with 
 white spots. It has wattles under the bill, 
 which do not proceed from the lower chap 
 as in cocks, but from the upper, which gives 
 it a very peculiar air; while its restless gait 
 and odd chuckling sound distinguish it suffi- 
 ciently from all other birds whatever. 
 
 It is well known all over Europe, and even 
 better than with us, as the nations that bor- 
 der on the Mediterranean probably had it 
 before us from those parts of Africa which 
 Jay nearest. Accordingly we find it in differ- 
 ent countries called by different names, from 
 
 the place whence they had it. They are by 
 some called the Barbary-hen ; by others, the 
 Tamis bird; and by others, the bird of Numidia. 
 We have given it the name of that part of Af- 
 rica from whence probably it was first brought. 
 In many parts of their native country, they 
 are seen in vast flocks together, feeding their 
 young, and leading them in quest of food. 
 All their habits are like those of the poultry 
 kind, and they agree in every other respect, 
 except that the male and female are so much 
 alike, that they can hardly be distinguished 
 asunder. The only difference lies in the 
 wattles described above ; which in the cock 
 are of a bluish cast; in the hen they are 
 more inclining to a red. Their eggs, like 
 their bodies, are speckled ; in our climate, 
 they lay but five or six in a season : but they 
 are far more prolific in their sultry regions at 
 home. They are kept among us rather for 
 show than use, as their flesh is not much es- 
 teemed, and as they give a good deal oi trou- 
 ble in the rearing 
 
504 
 
 A HISTORY OP 
 
 CHAPTER XCIV. 
 
 THE BUSTARD. 
 
 THE Bustard is the largest land-bird that 
 is a native of Britain. It was once much 
 more numerous than it is at present; but 
 the increased cultivation of the country, and 
 the extreme delicacy of its flesh, has greatly 
 thinned the species ; so that a time may come 
 when it may be doubted whether ever so 
 large a bird was bred among us. It is pro- 
 bable that long before this the bustard would 
 have been extirpated, but for its peculiar 
 mariner of feeding. Had it continued to seek 
 shelter among our woods, in proportion as 
 they were cut down, it must have been de- 
 stroyed. If in the forest, the fowler might 
 approach it without being seen; and the 
 bird, from its size, would be too great a mark 
 to be easily missed. But it inhabits only the 
 open and extensive plain, where its food lies 
 in abundance, and where every invader may 
 be seen at a distance. 
 
 The bustard is much larger than the tur- 
 key, the male generally weighing from twen- 
 ty-five to twenty-seven pounds. The neck 
 is a foot long, and the legs a foot and a half. 
 The wings are not proportionable to the rest 
 of the body, being but four feet from the tip 
 of the one to the other ; for which reason 
 the bird flies with great difficulty. The head 
 ant! neck of the male are ash-coloured; the 
 back is barred transversely with black, bright, 
 and rust colour. The greater quill feathers 
 are black ; the belly white ; and the tail, 
 which consists of twenty feathers, is marked 
 with broad black bars. 
 
 It would seem odd, as was hinted before, 
 how so large a land-bird as this could find 
 shelter in so cultivated a country as England ; 
 but the wonder will cease when we find it 
 only in the most open countries, where there 
 is scarce any approaching without being dis- 
 covered. They are frequently seen in flocks 
 of fifty or more, in the extensive downs of 
 Salisbury Plain, in the heaths of .Sussex and 
 Cambridgeshire, the Dorsetshire uplands, and 
 
 so on as far as East Lothian in Scotland. In 
 those extensive plains, where there are no 
 woods to screen the sportsman, nor hedges 
 to creep along, the bustards enjoy an indo- 
 lent security. Their food is composed of the 
 berries that grow among the heath, and the 
 large earth-worms that appear in great quan- 
 tities on the downs before sun-rising in sum- 
 mer. It is in vain that the fowler creeps for- 
 ward to approach them, they have always 
 centinels placed at proper eminences, which 
 are ever on the watch, arid warn the flock of 
 the smallest appearance of danger. All there- 
 fore that is left to the sportsman, is the com- 
 fortless view of their distant security. He 
 may wish ; but they are in safety. 
 
 It sometimes happens that these birds, 
 though they are seldom shot by the gun, are 
 often run down by grayhounds. As they 
 are voracious and greedy, they often sacrifice 
 their safety to their appetite, and feed them- 
 selves so very fat, that they are unable to fly 
 without great preparation. When the gray- 
 hound, therefore, comes within a certain dis- 
 tance, the bustard runs off flapping its wings, 
 and endeavouring to gather air enough un- 
 der them to rise; in the mean time, the ene- 
 my approaches nearer and nearer, till it is 
 too late for the bird even to think of obtain- 
 ing safety by flight; for just at the rise there is 
 always time lost, and of this the bird is sensible ; 
 it continues, therefore, on the foot, until it has 
 got a sufficient way before the dog for flight, 
 or until it is taken. 
 
 As there are few places where they can at 
 once find proper food and security, so they 
 generally continue near their old haunts, sel- 
 dom wandering above twenty or thirty miles 
 from home. As their food is replete with 
 moisture, it enables them to live upon these 
 dry plains, where there are scarcely any 
 springs of water, a long time v* ithout drink- 
 ing. Besides this, nature has given the males 
 an admirable magazine for their security 
 
THE POULTRY KIND 
 
 505 
 
 against thirst. This is a pouch, the entrance 
 of which lies immediately under the tongue, 
 and capable of holding near seven quarts of 
 water." This is probably filled upon proper 
 occasions, to supply the hen when sitting, or 
 the young before they can fly. 
 
 Like all other birds of the poultry kind, 
 they change (heir mates at the season of in- 
 cubation, which is about the latter end of 
 summer. They separate in pairs, if there 
 be a sufficiency of females for the males : but 
 when this happens to be otherwise, the males 
 fi^ht until one of them falls. In France, they 
 often find some of those victims to gallantry 
 dead in the fields, and no doubt are not dis- 
 pleased at the occasion. 
 
 They make their nests upon the ground, 
 only just scraping a hole in the earth, and 
 sometimes lining it with a little long grass or 
 straw. There they lay two eggs only, al- 
 
 most of the size of a goose egg, of a pale olive 
 brown, marked with spots of a darker colour. 
 They hatch in about five weeks, and the 
 young ones run about as soon as they are out 
 of the shell. 
 
 The bustards assemble in flocks in the 
 month of October, and keep together till April. 
 In winter, as their food becomes more scarce, 
 they support themselves indiscriminately, by 
 feeding on moles, mice, and even little birds, 
 when they can seize them. For want of 
 other food, they are contented to live upon 
 turnip leaves, and such like succulent vege- 
 tables. In some parts of Switzerland, they 
 are found frozen in the fields in severe wea- 
 ther; but when taken to a warm place, they 
 again recover. They usually live fifteen 
 years, and are incapable of being propagated 
 in a domestic state, as they probably want that 
 food which best agrees with their appetite. 
 
 CHAPTER XCV. 
 
 THE GROUSE, AND ITS AFFINITIES. 
 
 THE Cock of the Wood, the Black Cock, 
 the Grouse, and the Ptarmigan these are all 
 birds of a similar nature, and chiefly found in 
 heathy mountains and piny forests, at a dis- 
 tance from mankind. They might once in- 
 deed have been common enough all over Eng- 
 land, when a great part of the country was 
 covered with heath ; but at present their 
 numbers are thinned ; the two first of this 
 kind are utterly unknown in the south, and 
 have taken refuge in the northern parts of 
 Scotland, where the extensive heath^ afford 
 them security, and the forests shelter. 
 
 The cock of the wood is sometimes of the 
 size of a turkey, and often weighs near four- 
 teen pounds; the black cock, of which the 
 male is all over black, though the female is 
 of the polour of a partridge, is about the size 
 of a hen, and, like the former, is only found 
 
 a The size of this reservoir seems something exag- 
 gerated : for with an addition of nearly fourteen pounds 
 weight thrown forwards, the centre of gravity must be so 
 
 with us in the highlands of Scotland ; the 
 grouse is about half as large again as a par- 
 tridge, and its colour much like that of a 
 woodcock, but redder; the ptarmigan is still 
 somewhat less, and is of a pale brown or ash- 
 colour. They are all distinguishable from 
 other birds of the poultry kind by a naked 
 skin of a scarlet colour, above the eyes, in 
 the place and of the figure of eye-brows. 
 
 It seems to be something extraordinary, 
 that all the larger wild animals of every spe- 
 cies choose the darkest and the inmost re- 
 cesses of the woods for their residence, while 
 the smaller kinds come more into the open 
 and cultivated parts, where there is more 
 food and more danger. It is thus with the 
 birds I am describing: while the cock of the 
 wood is seldom seen, except on the inacces- 
 sible parts of heathy mountains, or in the 
 
 much overbalanced, as to destroy its power of flight, and 
 impede its running. About half this quantity seems a 
 probable sufficiency for all its wants. 
 
506 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 midst of piny forests, the grouse is found in 
 great numbers in the neighbourhood of corn- 
 fields, where there is heath to afford retreat 
 and shelter. Their food too somewhat differs ; 
 while the smaller kind lives upon heath blos- 
 soms, cranberries, and corn, the larger feeds 
 upon the cones of the pine-tree; and will 
 sometimes entirely strip one tree, before it 
 offers to touch those of another, though just 
 beside him. In other respects, the manners 
 of these birds are the same ; being both 
 equally simple in their diet, and licentious in 
 their amours. 
 
 The cock of the wood, for it is from him 
 we will take our description, is, as was said, 
 chiefly fond of a mountainous and woody 
 situation. In winter he resides in the darkest 
 and inmost part of the woods ; in summer he 
 ventures down from his retreats, to make 
 short depredations on the farmers' corn. The 
 delicacy of his flesh in some measure sets a 
 high price upon his head ; and as he is 
 greatly sought after, so he continues, when 
 he comes down from the hills, always on his 
 guard. Upon these occasions, he is seldom 
 surprised; and those who would take him, must 
 venture up to find him in his native retreats, i 
 
 The cock of the wood, when in the forests, 
 attaches himself principally to the oak and 
 the pine-tree ; the cones of the latter serving 
 for his food, and the thick boughs for a habi- 
 tation. He even makes a choice of what 
 cones he shall feed upon ; for he sometimes 
 will strip one tree bare before he will deign 
 to touch the cones of another. He feeds also 
 upon ants' eggs, which seem a high delicacy 
 to all birds of the poultry kind: cranberries 
 are likewise often found in his crop ; and his 
 gizzard, like that of domestic fowls, contains 
 a quantity of gravel, for the purposes of as- 
 sisting his powers of digestion. 
 
 At the earliest return of spring, this bird 
 begins to feel the genial influence of the sea- 
 son. During the month of March, the ap- 
 proaches of courtship are continued, and do 
 not desist till the trees have all their leaves, 
 and the forest is in full bloom. During this 
 whole season, the cock of the wood is seen 
 at sunrise and setting, extremely active, upon 
 one of the largest branches of the pine-tree. 
 With his tail raised and expanded like a fan, 
 and the wings drooping, he is seen walking 
 
 backward and forward, his neck stretched 
 out, his head swollen and red, and making a 
 thousand ridiculous postures: his cry upon 
 that occasion is a kind of loud explosion, 
 which is instantly followed by a noise like 
 the whetting of a scythe, which ceases and 
 commences alternately for about an hour, 
 and is then terminated by the same explosion. 
 
 During the time this singular cry continues, 
 the bird seems entirely deaf and insensible of 
 every danger ; whatever noise may be made 
 near him, or even though fired at, he still con- 
 tinues his call; and this is the time that sports- 
 men generally take to shoot him. Upon all 
 other occasions, he is the most timorous and 
 watchful bird in nature ; but now he seems 
 entirely absorbed by his instincts; and sel- 
 dom leaves the place where he first begins to 
 feel the accesses of desire. This extraordi- 
 nary cry, which is accompanied by a clapping 
 of the wings, is no sooner finished, than the 
 female, hearing it, replies, approaches, and 
 places herself under the tree, from whence 
 the cock descends to impregnate her. The 
 number of females that, on this occasion, re- 
 sort to his call, is uncertain; but one male 
 generally suffices for all. 
 
 The female is much less than her mate, 
 and entirely unlike him in plumnge, so that 
 she might be mistaken for a bird of another 
 species: she seldom lays more than six or 
 seven eggs, which are white, and marked 
 with yellow, of the size of a common hen's 
 egg; she generally lays them in a dry place, 
 and a mossy ground, and hatches them without 
 the company of the cock. When sheisobliged, 
 during the time of incubation, to leave her 
 eggs in quest of food, she covers them up so 
 artfully, with moss or dry leaves, that it is ex- 
 tremely difficult to discover them. On this 
 occasion, she is extremely tame and tranquil, 
 however wild and timorous in ordinary. She 
 often keeps to her nest, though strangers at- 
 tempt to drag tier away. 
 
 As soon as the young ones are hatched, 
 they are seen running with extreme agility 
 after the mother, though sometimes they are 
 not entirely disengaged from the shell. The 
 hen leads them forward, for the first time, into 
 the woods, shows them ants' eggs, and the 
 wild mountain-berries, which, while young, 
 are their only food. As they grow older, 
 
THE POULTRY KIND. 
 
 507 
 
 their appetites grow stronger, and they then 
 feed upon the tops of hether, and the cones 
 of the pine-tree. In this manner they soon 
 come to perfection: they are a hardy bird, 
 their food lies every where before them, and 
 it would seem that they should increase in 
 great abundance. But this is not the case ; 
 their numbers are thinned by rapacious birds 
 and beasts of every kind ; and still more by 
 their own salacious contests. 
 
 As soon as the clutching is over, which the 
 female performs in the manner of a hen, the 
 whole brood follows the mother for about a 
 month or two; at the end of which the young 
 males entirely forsake her, and keep in great 
 
 harmony together till the beginning of spring. 
 At this season they begin, for the first time, 
 to feel the genial access ; and then adieu to 
 all their former friendships ! They begin to 
 consider each other as rivals ; and the rage 
 of concupiscence quite extinguishes the spirit 
 of society. They fight each other like 
 game-cocks ; and at that time are so in- 
 attentive to their own safety, that it often 
 happens that two or three of them are killed 
 at a shot. It is probable that in these 
 contests, the bird which comes off victori- 
 ous takes possession of the female seraglio, 
 as it is certain they have no faithful attach- 
 ments." 
 
 CHAPTER LCVI. 
 
 OF THE PARTRIDGE, AND ITS VARIETIES. 
 
 THE Partridge may be particularly con- 
 sidered as belonging to the sportsman. It is 
 a bird which even our laws have taken under 
 protection ; and, like a peacock or a hen, may 
 be ranked as a private property. The only 
 difference now is, that we feed one in our 
 farms, the other in our yards : that these are 
 contented captives ; those, servants that have 
 it in their power to change their master, by 
 changing their habitation. 
 
 " These birds," says Willoughby, " hold the 
 principal place in the feasts and entertainments 
 of princes ; without which their feasts are 
 esteemed ignoble, vulgar, and of no account. 
 The Frenchmen do so highly value, and are 
 so fond of, the partridge, that if they be want- 
 ing, they utterly slight and despise the best- 
 spread tables ; as if there could be no feast 
 without them." But however this might be 
 in the times of our historian, the partridge is 
 nosv too common in France to be considered 
 as a delicacy : and this, as well as every other 
 simple dish, is exploded for luxuries of a more 
 compound invention. 
 
 In England, where the partridge is much 
 
 This account is from the Journal GEconomique, and 
 may be relied on. 
 MO. 43 it 44. 
 
 scarcer, and a great deal dearer, it is still a 
 favourite delicacy at the tables of the rich ; 
 and the desire of keeping it to themselves, has 
 induced them to make laws for its preserva- 
 tion, no way harmonizing with the general 
 spirit of English legislation. What can be 
 more arbitrary than to talk of preserving the 
 game ; which, when defined, means no more 
 than that the poor shall abstain from what the 
 rich have taken a fancy to keep for themselves? 
 If these birds could, like a cock or a hen, be 
 made legal property, could they be taught to 
 keep within certain districts, and only feed on 
 those grounds that belong to the man whose 
 entertainments they improve, it then might, 
 with some show of justice, be admitted, that 
 as a man fed them, so he might claim them. 
 But this is not the case ; nor is it in any man's 
 power to lay a restraint upon the liberty of 
 these birds, that, when let loose, put no limits 
 to their excursions. They feed every where ; 
 upon every man's ground ; and no man can 
 say these birds are fed only by me. Those 
 birds which are nourished by all, belong to all; 
 nor can any one man, or any set of men, lay 
 claim to them, when still continuing in a state 
 of nature. 
 
 I never walked out about the environs of 
 
 4E 
 
508 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 Paris, that I did not consider the immense 
 quantity of game that was running almost 
 tame on every side rne, as a bai:ge of the 
 slavery of the people ; and what they wished 
 me to observe as an object of triumph, I always 
 regarded with a kind of secret compassion : 
 yet this people have no game-laws for the re- 
 moter parts of the kingdGm ; the game is only 
 preserved in a few places for the king, and is 
 free in most places else. In England, the 
 prohibition is general ; and the peasant has not 
 a right to what even slaves, as he is taught to 
 call them, are found to possess. 
 
 Of partridges there are two kinds ; the gray 
 an'l the red. The red partridge is the largest 
 of the two, and often perches upon trees; the 
 gray, with \vhich we are best acquainted in 
 England, is most prolific, and always keeps on 
 the ground. 
 
 The partridge seems to be a bird well known 
 all over the world, as it is found in every 
 country, and in every climate ; as well in the 
 frozen regions about the pole, as the torrid 
 tracts under the equator. It even seems to 
 adapt itself to the nature of the climate where 
 it resides. In Greenland, the partridge, which 
 is brown in summer, as soon as the icy winter 
 sets in, begins to take a covering suited to the 
 season : it is then clothed with a warm down 
 beneath ; and its outward plumage assumes 
 the colour of the snows amongst which it seeks 
 its food. Thus it is doubly fitted for the place, 
 by the warmth and the colour of its plumage; 
 the one to defend it from the cold, the oth'-r to 
 prevent its being noticed by the enemy. Those 
 of Barakonda, on the other hand, are 
 longer-legged, much swifter of foot, and 
 choose the highest rocks and precipices to re- 
 side in. 
 
 They all, however, agree in one character, 
 of being immoderately addicted to venery ; 
 and, as some writers affirm, often to an un- 
 natural degree. It is certain the male will 
 pursue the hen even to her nest ; and will 
 break her eggs, rather than not indulge his in- 
 clinations. Though the young ones have 
 
 kept together in flocks during the winter, when 
 they begin to pair in spring, their society dis- 
 perses, and combats, very terrible with respect 
 to each other, ensue. Their manners, in other 
 circumstances, resemble all those of poultry in 
 general ; but their cunning and instincts seem 
 superior to those of the larger kinds. Perhaps, 
 as they live in the very neighbourhood of their 
 enemies, they have more frequent occasion to 
 put their little arts in practice ; and learn, by 
 habit, the means of evasion or safety. When- 
 ever, therefore, a dog, or other formidable ani- 
 mal, approaches their nest, the female uses 
 every means to draw him away. She keeps 
 just before him, pretends to be incapable of 
 flying, just hops up, and then fallsdown before 
 him, but never goes off so far as to discourage 
 her pursuer. At length, when she has drawn 
 him entirely away from her secret treasure, 
 she at once takes wing, and fairly leaves hiru 
 to g;tze after her in despair. 
 
 After the danger is over, and the dog with- 
 drawn, she then calls her young, who assemble 
 at once at her cry, and follow where she leads 
 them. There are generally from ten to fifteen 
 in a covey ; and, if unmolested, they live from 
 fifteen to seventeen years. 
 
 There are several methods of taking them, 
 as is well known : that by which they are 
 taken in a net with a setting-dog, is the most 
 pleasant, as well as the most secure. The dog, 
 as every body knows, is trained to this exercise 
 by a long course of education : by blows and 
 caresses he is taught to lie down at the word of 
 command ; a partridge is shown him, and he 
 is then ordered to lie down: he is brought into 
 the field, and when the sportsman perceives 
 where the covey lies, he orders his dog to 
 crouch : at length the dog, from habit, crouches 
 wherever he approaches a covey ; and this is 
 the signal which the sportsman receives for 
 unfolding, and covering the birds with his nel. 
 A covey thus caught, is sometirrtes fed in a 
 place proper for their reception ; but they can 
 never be thoroughly tamed, like the rest of our 
 domestic poultry. 
 
THE POULTRY KIND. 
 
 509 
 
 CHAPTER XCVII. 
 
 THE QUAIL. 
 
 THE last of the poultry kind that I shall 
 mention, is the quail; a bird much smaller 
 than any of the former, being not above half 
 the size of a partridge. The feathers of the 
 head are black, edged with rusty brown; the 
 breast is of a pale yellowish red, spotted 
 with black; the feathers on the back are 
 marked with lines of a pale yellow, and the 
 legs are of a pale hue. Except in the co- 
 lours thus described, and the size, it every 
 way resembles a partridge in shape; and, 
 except that it is a bird of passage, all 
 others of the poultry kind, in its habits and 
 nature. 
 
 The quail is by all known to he a bird of 
 passage; and yet if we consider its heavy 
 manner of flying, and its dearth of plumage, 
 with respect to its corpulence, we shall be 
 surprised how a bird so apparently ill quali- 
 fied for migration, should take such exten- 
 sive journeys. Nothing, however, is more 
 certain: "When we sailed from Rhodes to 
 Alexandria." says Bellonius, "about autumn, 
 many quails, Hying from the north to the 
 south, were taken in our ship; and sailing at 
 spring-time, the contrary way, from the south 
 to the .north, I observed them on their return, 
 when many of them were taken in the same 
 manner." This account is confirmed by ma- 
 ny others; who aver, that they choose a north 
 wind for these adventures; the south wind 
 being very unfavourable, as it retards their 
 flight, by moistening their plumage. They 
 then fly two by two; continuing, when their 
 way lies over land, to go faster by night than 
 by day ; and to fly very high, to avoid being 
 surprised or set upon by birds of prey. How- 
 ever, it still remains a doubt whether quails 
 take such long journeys as Bellonius has made 
 them perform. It is now asserted by some, 
 that the quail only migrates from one pro- 
 vince of a country to another. For instance, 
 in England, they fly from the inland counties. 
 
 to those bordering on the sea, and continue 
 there all the winter. If frost or snow drive 
 them out of the stubble-fields or marshes, 
 they then retreat to the sea-side, shelter them- 
 selves among the weeds, and live upon what 
 is thrown up from the sea upon shore. Par- 
 ticularly in Essex, the time of their appear- 
 ance upon the coasts of that country exact- 
 ly coincides with their disappearance from 
 the more internal parts of the kingdom; so 
 that what has been said of their long flights, 
 is probably not so well founded as is general- 
 ly supposed. 
 
 These birds are much less prolific than the 
 partridge; seldom laying more than six or 
 seven whitish eggs, marked with ragged rust- 
 coloured spots. But their ardour in court- 
 ship yields scarcely to any other bird, as they 
 are fierce and cruel at that season to each 
 other, fighting most desperately, and (a pu- 
 nishment they richly deserve) being at that 
 time very easily taken. Quail-fighting was a 
 favourite amusement among the Athenians : 
 they abstained from the flesh of this bird, 
 deeming it unwholesome, as supposing that 
 it fed upon the white hellebore; but they 
 reared great numbers of them, for the plea- 
 sure of seeing them fight; and staked sums 
 of money, as we do with regard to cocks, 
 upon the success of the combat. Fashion, 
 however, has at present changed with regard 
 to this bird; we take no pleasure in its cou- 
 rage, but its flesh is considered as a very 
 great delicacy. 
 
 Quails are easily caught by a call : the 
 fowler, early in the morning, having spread 
 his net, hides himself under it among the 
 corn ; he then imitates the voice of the fe- 
 male with his quail-pipe, which the cock hear- 
 ing, approaches with the utmost assiduity; 
 when he has got under the net, the fowler 
 then discovers himself, and terrifies the quail, 
 who attempting to get away, entangles him- 
 
 4E 
 
A HISTORY OF 
 
 self the more in the net, and is taken. The 
 quail may thus very well serve to illustrate 
 
 [In this place it may be proper to mention a curious 
 bird of South America, called the Trumpeter, as it seems, 
 both in its formation and manners, to approach nearest to 
 the poultry kind. It is about the size of "a large fowl. 
 Its general plumage is black ; the neck and breast glos- 
 sy changeable green ; the bill yellowish green, the upper 
 mandible a little -convex; the legs are greenish. The 
 
 the old adage, that every passion, carried to 
 an inordinate excess, will at last lead to ruin. 
 
 Trumpeter is so called from the singular noise it makes. 
 It is easily domesticated, and discovers a great degree of 
 attachment to those who take notice of it and feed it, and 
 follows them like a dog ; but bites the legs of those to 
 whom it takes a dislike, following them to a great dis- 
 tance, and showing every mark of displeasure.] 
 
THE PIE KIND. 
 
 511 
 
 OF BIRDS OF THE FIE KIND. 
 
 CHAPTER XCV1IL 
 
 OF BIRDS OF THE PIE KIND. 
 
 IN marshalling our army of the feathered 
 creation, we have placed in the van a race of 
 birds long bred to war, and whose passion is 
 slaughter ; in the centre we have placed the 
 slow and heavy laden, that are usually brought 
 into the field to be destroyed ; we now come 
 to a kind of light infantry, that partake some- 
 thing of the spirit of the two former, and yet 
 belonging to neither. In this class we must 
 be content to marshal a numerous irregular 
 tribe, variously armed, with different pursuits, 
 appetites, and manners ; not formidably form- 
 ed for war, and yet generally delighting in 
 mischief, not slowly and usefully obedient, and 
 yet without any professed enmity to the rest 
 of their fellow tenants of air. 
 
 To speak without metaphor; under this 
 class of birds we may arrange all that noisy, 
 restless, chattering, teazing tribe, that lies be- 
 tween the hen and the thrush, that, from the 
 size of the raven down to that of the wood- 
 pecker, flutter round our habitations, and, 
 rather with the spirit of pilferers than of rob- 
 bers, make free with the fruits of human in- 
 dustry. 
 
 Of all the other classes, this seems to be that 
 which the least contributes to furnish out the 
 pleasures, or supply the necessities, of man. 
 The falcon hunts for him ; the poultry tribe sup- 
 plies him with luxurious food; and the little 
 sparrow race delight him with the melody of 
 their warblings. Thecranekind make a studied 
 variety in his entertainments; and the class of 
 ducks are not only many of them delicate in 
 their flesh, but extremely useful for their fea- 
 thers. But in the class of the pie kind, there 
 are few, except the pigeon, that are any way 
 useful.' They serve rather to teaze man, than 
 to assist or amuse him. Like faithless ser- 
 
 vants, they are fond ef his neighbourhood, be- 
 cause they mostly live by his labour ; but 
 their chief study is what they can plunder in 
 his absence, while their deaths make him no 
 atonement for their depredation. 
 
 But though, with respect to man, this whole 
 class is rather noxious than beneficial ; though 
 he may consider them in this light, as false, 
 noisy, troublesome neighbours, yet, with re- 
 spect to each other, no class of birds are so 
 ingenious, so active, or so well fitted for society. 
 Could we suppose a kind of morality among 
 birds, we should find that these are by far the 
 most industrious, the most faithful, the most 
 constant, and the most connubial. The ra- 
 pacious kinds drive out their young before 
 they are fit to struggle with adversity : but the 
 pie kind cherish their young to the last. The 
 poultry class are faithless and promiscuous in 
 their courtship ; but these live in pairs, and 
 their attachments are wholly confined to each 
 other. The sparrow kind frequently over- 
 leap the bounds of nature, and make illicit 
 varieties ; but these never. They live in har- 
 mony with each other ; every species is true to 
 its kind, and transmits an unpolluted race to 
 posterity. 
 
 As other kinds build in rocks or upon the 
 ground, the chief place where these build is in 
 trees or bushes ; the male takes his share in 
 the labours of building the nest, and often re- 
 lieves his mate in the duties of incubation. Both 
 take this office by turns; and when the young 
 are excluded, both are equally active in making 
 them an ample provision. 
 
 They sometimes live in societies ; and in 
 these there are general laws observed, and a 
 kind of republican form of government estab- 
 lished among them. They watch not only for 
 
512 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 the general safety, but for that of every other 
 bird of the grove. How often have we seen 
 a fowler, stealing in upon a flock of ducks or 
 wild geese, disturbed by the alarming note 
 of a crow or a magpie: its single voice gave 
 the whole thoughtless tribe warning, and 
 taught them in good time to look to their 
 safety. 
 
 Nor are these birds less remarkable for 
 their instincts than their capacity for instruc- 
 tion. There is an apparent cunning or arch- 
 ness in the look of the whole tribe; and I 
 have seen crows and ravens taught to fetch 
 and carry with the docility of a spaniel. In- 
 deed, it is often an exercise that, without 
 teaching, all this tribe are but too fond of. 
 Every body knows what a passion they have 
 for shining substances, and such toys as some 
 of us put a value upon. A whole family has 
 been alarmed at the loss of a ring; every ser- 
 vant has been accused, and every creature 
 in the house, conscious of their own innocence, 
 suspected each other, when, to the utter sur- 
 prise of all, it has been found in the nest of 
 a tame magpie or a jackdaw, that nobody 
 had ever thought of. 
 
 However, as this class is very numerous, 
 it is not to be supposed that the manners are 
 alike in all. Some, such as the pigeon, are 
 
 gentle and serviceable to man ; others are 
 noxious, capricious, and noisy. In a tew ge- 
 neral characters they all ngree; namely, in 
 having hoarse voices, slight active bodies, and 
 a facility of flight, that baffles even the bold- 
 est of the rapacious kinds in the pursuit. I 
 will begin with those birds which most pro- 
 perly may be said to belong to this class, and 
 go on till I finish with the pigeon, a harmless 
 bird, that resembles this tribe in little else 
 except their size, and that seems to be the 
 shade uniting the pie and the sparrow kind 
 into one general picture. 
 
 It is not to be expected that in this sketch 
 of the great magazine of nature, we can stop 
 singly to contemplate every object. To de- 
 scribe the number that offers would be tedi- 
 ous, and the similitude that one bears to ano- 
 ther would make the history disgusting. As 
 a historian in relating the actions of some no- 
 ble people does not stop to give the charac- 
 ter of every private man in the army, but only 
 of such as have been distinguished by tfieir 
 conduct, courage, or treachery; so should 
 the historian of nature only seize upon the 
 most striking objects before him ; and having 
 given one common account of the most re- 
 markable, refer the peculiarities of the rest 
 to their general description. 
 
 CHAPTER XCIX. 
 
 OF THE RAVEN, THE CROW, AND THEIR AFFINITIES. 
 
 THE Raven, the Carrion-crow, and the 
 Rook, are birds so well known, that a .long 
 description would but obscure our ideas of 
 them. The Raven is the largest of the three, 
 and distinguished from the rest not only by 
 his size, but by his bill being somewhat more 
 hooked than that of the rest. As for the car- 
 rion-crow and the rook, they so strongly re- 
 semble each other, both in make and size, 
 that they are not easily distinguished asunder. 
 The chief difference to be found between 
 them lies in the bill of the rook; which, by 
 being frequently thrust into the ground to 
 fetch out grubs and earth-worms, is bare of 
 feathers as far as the eyes, and appears of a 
 
 whitish colour. It differs also in the purple 
 splendour or gloss of its feathers, which in 
 the carrion-crow are of a more dirty black. 
 Nor is it amiss to make these distinctions, 
 as the rook has but too frequently suffered 
 for its similitude to the carrion-crow; and 
 thus a harmless bird, that feeds only upon in- 
 sects and corn, has been destroyed for ano- 
 ther that feeds upon carrion, and is often de- 
 structive among young poultry. 
 
 The manners of the raven and the carrion-' 
 crow are exactly similar; they both feed upon 
 carrion; they (ly only in pairs; and will de- 
 stroy other birds, if they can take them by 
 surprise. But it is very different with the 
 
THE PIE KIND. 
 
 513 
 
 rook, the daw, and the Cornish chough, which 
 may be all ranked in this order. They are 
 sociable and harmless; they live only upon 
 insects and grain; and wherever they arc, 
 instead of injuring other birds, they seem cen- 
 tinels for the whole feathered creation. It 
 will be proper, therefore, to describe these 
 two sorts according to their respective ap- 
 petites, as they have nothing in common but 
 the very strong similitude they bear to each 
 other in their colour and formation. 
 
 The raven is a bird found in every region 
 of the world : strong and hardy, he is unin- 
 fluenced by the changes of the weather; and 
 when other birds seem numbed with cold, 
 or pining with famine, the raven is active and 
 healthy, busily employed in prowling for prey, 
 or sporting in the coldest atmosphere. As 
 the heats at the line do not oppress him, so 
 he bears the cold of the polar countries with 
 equal indifFerence. He is sometimes indeed 
 seen milk white ; and this may probably be 
 the effect of the rigorous climates of the north. 
 It is most likely that this change is wrought 
 upon him as upon most other animals in that 
 part of the world, where their robes, parti- 
 cularly in winter, assume the colour of the 
 country they inhabit. As in old age, when 
 the natural heat decays, the hair grows gray, 
 and at last white; so among these animals 
 the cold of the climate may produce a simi- 
 lar languishment of colour, and may shut up 
 those pores that conveyed the tincturing fluids 
 to the extremest parts of the body. 
 
 However this may be, white ravens are 
 often shown among us, which I have heard 
 some say, are rendered thus by art ; and this 
 we could readily suppose, if they were as 
 easily changed in their colour, as they are 
 altered in their habits and dispositions. A 
 raven may be reclaimed to almost every pur- 
 pose to which birds can be converted. He 
 may be trained up for fowling like a hawk; 
 he may be taught to fetch and carry like a 
 spaniel; he may be taught to speak like a 
 parrot; but the most extraordinary of all is, 
 that he can be taught to sing like a man. I 
 
 B At the seat of theearl of Aylesbury in Wiltshire,a tame 
 raven, that had been taught to speak, used to ramble 
 about in the park ; thpre lie was commonly attended and 
 best-t with crows, rooks, and others of his inquisitive tribe. 
 When a considerable number of these were collected round 
 
 have heard a raven sing the Black Joke with 
 great distinctness, truth, and humour.* 
 
 Indeed, when the raven is taken as a do- 
 mestic, he has many qualities that render him 
 extremely amusing. Busy, inquisitive, and 
 impudent, he goes every where ; affronts and 
 drives off the dogs, plays his pranks on the 
 poultry, and is particularly assiduous in cul- 
 tivating the good-will of the cook-maid, who 
 seems to be the favourite of the family. But 
 then, with the amusing qualities of a favourite, 
 he often also has the vices and defects. He 
 is a glutton by nature, and a thief by habit. 
 He does not confine himself to petty depre- 
 dations on the pantry or the larder; he soars 
 at more magnificent plunder; at spoils that 
 he can neither exhibit nor enjoy ; but which, 
 like a miser, he rests satisfied with having the 
 satisfaction of sometimes visiting and con- 
 templating in secret. A piece of money, a 
 tea-spoon, or a ring, are always tempting baits 
 to his avarice; these he will slily seize upon, 
 and, if not watched, will carry to his favourite 
 hole. 
 
 In his wild state, the raven is an active and 
 greedy plunderer. Nothing comes amiss to 
 him ; whether his prey be living or long dead 
 it is all the same, he falls to with a voracious 
 appetite ; and, when he has gorged himself, 
 flies to acquaint his fellows, that they may 
 participate of the spoil. If the carcass be 
 already in the possession of some more power- 
 ful animal, a wolf, a fox, or a dog, the raven 
 sits at a little distance, content to continue a 
 humble spectator till they have done. If in 
 his flights he perceives no hopes of carrion, 
 and his scent is so exquisite that he can smell 
 it at a vast distance, he then contents him- 
 self with more unsavoury food, fruits, insects, 
 and the accidental dessert of a dunghill. 
 
 This bird chiefly builds its nesf in trees, 
 and lays five or six eggs of a pale green co- 
 lour, marked with small brownish spots. 
 They live sometimes in pairs, and sometimes 
 they frequent, in great numbers, the neigh- 
 bourhood of populous cities, where they are 
 useful in devouring those carcasses that would 
 
 him, he would lift up his head, and with a hoarse mid 
 hollow voice shout out the word Holla! This would in- 
 stantly put to (light and disperse his suhle brethren ; 
 while the raven seemed to enjoy the fright he had 
 occasioned. 
 
514 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 otherwise putrefy and infect the air. They 
 build in high trees or old towers, in the be- 
 ginning of March with us in England, and 
 sometimes sooner, as the spring is more or 
 less advanced for the season. But it is not 
 always near towns that they fix their retreats; 
 they often build in unfrequented places, and 
 drive all other birds from their vicinity. 
 They will not permit even their young to 
 keep in the same district, but drive them off" 
 when they are sufficiently able to shift for 
 themselves. Martin, in his description of the 
 Western Isles, avers, that there are three 
 little islands among the number, which are 
 occupied by a pair of ravens each, that drive 
 off all other birds with great cries and impe- 
 tuosity. 
 
 Notwithstanding the injury these birds do 
 in picking out the eyes of sheep and lambs, 
 when they find them sick and helpless, a 
 vulgar respect is paid them, as being the birds 
 that fed the prophet Elijah in the wilderness. 
 This prepossession in favour of the raven is 
 of very ancient date, as the Romans them- 
 selves, who thought the bird ominous, paid it, 
 from motives of fear, the most profound vene- 
 ration. One of these that had been kept in 
 the temple of Castor, as Pliny informs u-. 
 flew down into the shop of a tailor, who took 
 much delight in the visits of his new acquaint- 
 ance. He taught the bird several tricks; but 
 particularly to pronounce the names of the 
 emperor Tiberius, and the whole royal fami- 
 ly. The tailor was beginning to grow rich 
 by those who came to see this wonderful raven, 
 till an envious neighbour, displeased at the 
 tailor's success, killed the bird, and deprived 
 the tailor of his future hopes of fortune. The 
 Romans, however, took the poor tailor's part; 
 they punished the man who offered the injury, 
 and gave the raven all the honours of a 
 magnificent interment. 
 
 Birds in general live longer than quadru- 
 peds ; and the raven is said to be one of the 
 most long-lived of the number. Hesiod asserts 
 that a raven will live nine times as long as a 
 man ; but though this is fabulous, it is certain 
 that some of them have been known to live 
 near a hundred years. This animal seems 
 possessed of those qualities that generally 
 produce longevity, a good appetite, and 
 great exercise. In clear weather, the ravens 
 
 fly in pairs to a great height, making a deep 
 loud noise, different from that of their usual 
 croaking. 
 
 The carrion-crow resembles the raven in 
 its appetites, its laying, and manner of bring- 
 ing up its young. It only differs in being lesa 
 bold, less docile, and less favoured by man- 
 kind. 
 
 The rook leads the way in another, but a 
 more harmless train, that have no carnivorous 
 appetites, but only feed upon insects and corn. 
 The Royston crow is about the size of the 
 two former. The breast, belly, back, and up- 
 per part of the neck, being of a pale ash- 
 colour; the head and wings glossed over with 
 a fine blue. He is a bird of passage, visiting 
 this kingdom in the beginning of winter, and 
 leaving it in the spring. He breed-, how- 
 ever, in different parts of the British domin- 
 ions ; and his nest is common enough in trees 
 in Ireland. The jackdaw is black, like all 
 the former, but ash-coloured on the breast 
 and belly. He is not above the size of a 
 pigeon. He is docile and loquacious. His 
 head is large for the size of his body, which, 
 as has been remarked, argues him ingenious 
 and crafty. He builds in steeples, old castles, 
 and high rocks, laying five or six eggs n> a 
 season. The Cornish chough is like a jack- 
 daw, but bigger, and almost the size of a crow. 
 The bill, feet, and legs, are long like those 
 of a jackdaw, but of a red colour; and the 
 plumage is black all over. It frequents rocks, 
 old castles, and churches by the sea-side, like 
 the daw ; and w th the same noisy assiduity, 
 ft is only seen along the western coasts of 
 England. These are birds very similar in 
 their manners, feeding on grain and insects, 
 living in society, and often suffering general 
 castigntion from the flock for the good of the 
 community. 
 
 The rook, as is well known, builds in 
 woods and forests in the neighbourhood of 
 man, and sometimes makes choice of groves 
 in the very midst of cities for the place of its 
 retreat and security. In these it establishes 
 a kind of legal constitution, by which all 
 intruders are excluded from coming to live 
 among them, and none suffered to build but 
 acknowledged natives of the place. I have 
 often amused myself with observing their 
 plan of policy from my window in the Temple, 
 
THE PIE KIND. 
 
 515 
 
 that looks upon a grove where they have 
 made a colony in the midst of the city. At 
 the commencement of spring, the rookery, 
 which during the continuance of winter seem- 
 ed to have been deserted, or only guarded 
 by about five or six, like old soldiers in a 
 garrison, now begins to be once more fre- 
 quented ; and in a short time all the bustle 
 and hurry of business is fairly commenced. 
 Where these numbers resided during the 
 winter is not easy to guess; perhaps in the 
 trees of hedge-rows, to be nearer their food. 
 In spring, however, they cultivate their native 
 trees; and, in the places where they were 
 themselves hatched, they prepare to propa- 
 gate a future progeny. 
 
 They keep together in pairs; and when 
 the offices of courtship are over, they prepare 
 for making their nests and laying. The old 
 inhabitants of the place are all already pro- 
 vided ; the nest which served them for years 
 before, with a little trimming and dressing, 
 will serve very well again; the difficulty of 
 nestling lies only upon the young ones, who 
 have no nest, and must therefore get up one 
 as well as they can. But not only the mate- 
 rials are wanting, but also the place in which 
 to fix it. Every part of a tree will not do for 
 this purpose, as some branches may not be 
 sufficiently forked ; others may not be suffi- 
 ciently strong; and still others may be too 
 much exposed to the rockings of the wind. 
 The male and female upon this occasion are. 
 for some days, seen examining all the trees of 
 the grove very attentively ; and when they 
 have fixed upon a branch that seems fit for 
 their purpose, they continue to sit upon and 
 observe it very sedulously for two or three 
 days longer. The place being thus deter- 
 mined upon, they begin to gather the mate- 
 rials for their nest; such as sticks and fibrous 
 roots, which they regularly dispose in the 
 most substantial manner. But here a new 
 and unexpected obstacle arises. It often hap- 
 pens that the young couple have made choice 
 of a place too near the mansion of an older 
 pair, who do not choose to be incommoded 
 by such troublesome neighbours. A quarrel 
 therefore instantly ensues, in which the old 
 ones are always victorious. 
 
 The young couple, thus expelled, are 
 obliged again to go through the fatigues of 
 
 KO 43 & 44. 
 
 deliberating, examining, and choosing; and 
 having taken care to keep their due distance, 
 the nest begins again, and their industry de- 
 serves commendation. But their alacrity is 
 often too great in the beginning; they soon 
 grow weary of bringing the materials of their 
 nest from distant places; and they very ea- 
 sily perceive that sticks may be provided 
 nearer home, with less honesty, indeed, but 
 some degree of address. Away they go, 
 therefore, to pilfer, as fast as they can ; and 
 wherever they see a nest unguarded, they 
 take care to rob it of the very choicest sticks 
 of which it is composed. But these thefts 
 never go unpunished ; and probably upon 
 complaint being made there is a general 
 punishment inflicted. I have seen eight or 
 ten rooks come upon such occasions, and, 
 setting upon the new nest of the young cou- 
 ple all at once, tear it in pieces in a mo- 
 ment. 
 
 At length, therefore, the young pair find 
 the necessity of going more regularly and ho- 
 nestly to work. While one flies to fetch the 
 materials, the other sits upon the tree to 
 guard it ; and thus in the space of three or 
 four days, with a skirmish now and then be- 
 tween, the pair have fitted up a commodious 
 nest, composed of sticks without, and of 
 fibrous roots and long grass within. From 
 the instant the female begins to lay, all hos- 
 tilities are at an end ; not one of the whole 
 grove, that a little before treated her so rude- 
 ly, will now venture to molest her; so that 
 she brings forth her brood with patient tran- 
 quillity. Such is the severity with which 
 even native rooks are treated by each other; 
 but if a foreign rook should attempt to make 
 himself a denizen of their society, he would 
 meet with no favour; the whole grove would 
 at once be up in arms against him, and ex- 
 pel him without mercy. 
 
 In some countries these birds are consider- 
 ed as a benefit, in others as a nuisance : their 
 chief food is the worm of the dor-beetle, and 
 corn ; thus they may be said to do as much 
 service by destroying that noxious insect, as 
 they do injury by consuming the produce of 
 the husbandman's industry. 
 
 To this tribe of the crow-kind, some fo- 
 reign sorts might be added : I will take no- 
 tice only of one, which, from the extraordi- 
 
 4F 
 
516 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 nary size and fashion of its bill, must not be 
 passed in silence. This is the Calao, or horn- 
 ed Indian raven, which exceeds the common 
 raven in size, and habits of depredation. 
 But what he differs in from all other birds is 
 the beak, which by its length and curvature 
 at the end, appears designed for rapine; but 
 then it has a kind of horn standing out from 
 the top, which looks somewhat like a second 
 bill, and gives this bird, otherwise fierce and 
 ugly, a very formidable appearance. The 
 horn springs out of the forehead, and grows 
 to the upper part of the bill, being of great 
 bulk; so that near the forehead it is four in- 
 ches broad, not unlike the horn of the rhi- 
 noceros, but more crooked at the tip. Were 
 the body of the bird answerable in size to 
 
 the head, the calao would exceed in magni- 
 tude even the vulture or the eagle. But the 
 head and beak are out of all proportion, the 
 body being not much larger than that of a 
 hen. Yet even here there are varieties; 
 for in such of those birds as come from differ- 
 ent parts of Africa, the body is proportionable 
 to the beak ; in such as come from the Mo- 
 lucca Islands, the beak bears no proportion 
 to the body. Of what use this extraordinary 
 excrescence is to the bird, is not easy to de- 
 termine; it lives, like others of its kind, upon 
 carrion, and seldom has a living enemy to 
 cope w ith : Nature seems to sport in the pro- 
 duction of many animals, as if she were wil- 
 ling to exhibit instances as well of variety as 
 economy in their formation. 
 
 CHAPTER C. 
 
 OF THE MAGPIE, AND ITS AFFINITIES. 
 
 THERE are such a variety of birds that 
 may be distributed under this head, that we 
 must not expect very precise ideas of any. 
 To have a straight strong bill, legs formed 
 for hopping, a body of about the size of a 
 magpie, and party-coloured plumage, are the 
 only marks by which I must be contented to 
 distinguish this numerous fantastic tribe, that 
 add to the beauty, though not to the har- 
 mony, of our landscapes. In fact, their chat- 
 tering every where disturbs the melody of 
 the lesser warblers ; and their noisy court- 
 ship not a little damps the song of the linnet 
 and the nightingale. 
 
 However, we have very few of this kind in 
 our woods compared to those in the neigh- 
 bourhood of the line. There they not only 
 paint the scene with the beauty and the va- 
 riety of their plumage, but stun the ear with 
 their vociferation. In those luxurious forests, 
 the singing birds are scarcely ever heard, 
 but a hundred varieties of the* pie, the jay, 
 the roller, the chatterer, and the toucan, are 
 continually in motion, and with their illusive 
 mockeries disturb or divert the spectator, as 
 he happens to be disposed. 
 
 The magpie is the chief of this kind with 
 us, and is too well known to need a descrip- 
 tion. Indeed, were its other accomplishments 
 equal to its beauty, few birds could be put 
 in competition. Its black, its white, its green, 
 and purple, with the rich and gilded combi- 
 nation of the glosses on its tail, are as fine as 
 any that adorn the most beautiful of the fea- 
 thered tribe. But it has too many of the qua- 
 lities of a beau, to depreciate these natural 
 perfections: vain, restless, loud, and quar- 
 relsome, it is an unwelcome intruder every 
 where ; and never misses an opportunity, 
 when it finds one, of doing mischief. 
 
 The magpie bears a great resemblance to 
 the butcher-bird in its bill, which has a sharp 
 process near the end of the upper chap, as 
 well as in the shortness of its wings, and the 
 form of the tail ; each feather shortening from 
 the two middlemost. But it agrees still more 
 in its food, living not only upon worms and 
 insects, but also upon small birds when they 
 can be seized. A wounded lark, or a young 
 chicken separated from the hen, are sure 
 plunder; and the magpie will even some- 
 times set upon and strike a blackbird. 
 
THE PIE KIND. 
 
 517 
 
 The same insolence prompts it to teaze the 
 largest ani nals, when its insults can be offered 
 with security. They often are seen perched 
 upon the back of an ox or a sheep, pecking up 
 the insects to be found there, chattering, and 
 tormenting the poor animal at the same time, 
 and stretching out their necks for combat, if 
 the beast turns its head backward to reprehend 
 him. They seek out also the nests of birds : 
 and, if the parent escapes, the eggs make up 
 for the deficiency : the thrush and the blackbird 
 are but too frequently robbed by this assassin, 
 and this in some measure causes their scarcity. 
 
 No food seems to come amiss to this bird ; 
 it shares with ravens in their carrion, with 
 rooks in their grain, and with the cuckoo in 
 birds' eggs : but it seems possessed of a pro- 
 vidence seldom usual with gluttons; for when 
 it is satisfied for the present, it lays up the re- 
 mainder of the feast for another occasion. It 
 will even in a tame state hide its food when it 
 has done eating, and after a time return to the 
 secret hoard with renewed appetite and voci- 
 feration. 
 
 In all its habits it discovers a degree of in- 
 stinct unusual to other birds. Its nest is not 
 less remarkable for the manner in which it is 
 composed, than for the place tin- magpie takes 
 to buill it in. The nesi is usually placed con- 
 spicuous enough, either in the middle of 
 some hawthorn bush, or on the top of >o ne 
 high tree. The place, however, is always 
 found difficult of access ; for the tree pitched 
 upon usually grows in some thick hedge-row 
 fenced by brambles at the root; or sometimes 
 one of the higher bushes is fixed upon for the 
 purpose. When the place is thus chosen as 
 inaccessible as possible to men, the next care 
 is to fence the nest above so as to defend it 
 from all the various enemies of air. The kite, 
 the crow, and the sparrow-hawk, are to be 
 guarded against ; as their nests have been 
 sometimes plundered by the magpie, so it is 
 reasonably feared that they will take the first 
 opportunity to retaliate. To prevent this the 
 magpie's nest is built with surprising labour 
 and ingenuity. 
 
 The body of the nest is composed of haw- 
 thorn branches, the thorns sticking outward, 
 set well united together by their mutual in- 
 sertions Within it is lined with fibrous roots, 
 wool, and long grass, and then nicely plaster- 
 ed all round with mud and clay. The body 
 
 of the nest being thus made firm and commo- 
 dious, the next work is to make the canopy 
 which is to defend it above. This is compos- 
 ed of the sharpest thorns, wove together in 
 such a manner as to deny all entrance except 
 at the door, which is just large enough to per- 
 mit egress and regress to the owners. In this 
 fortress the male and female hatch and bring 
 up their brood with security, sheltered from all 
 attacks but those of the climbing school-boy, 
 who often finds his torn and bloody hands too 
 dear a price for the eggs or the young ones. 
 The magpie lays six or seven eggs, of a pale 
 green colour, spotted with bro-.\ n. 
 
 This bird, in its domestic state, preserves its 
 natural character with strict propriety. The 
 same noisy mischievous habits attend it to the 
 cage that marked it in the woods ; and being 
 more cunning, so it is also a more docile bird 
 than any other taken into keeping. Those 
 who are desirous of teaching it to speak, have 
 a foolish custom of cutting its tongue, which 
 only puts the poor animal to pain, without im- 
 proving its speech in the smallest degree. Its 
 speaking is sometimes very distinct ; but its 
 sounds are too thin and sharp to be an ; xact 
 imitation of the human voice, which the hoarse 
 raven and parrot can counterfeit more exactly. 
 
 To this tribe we may refer the jay, which is 
 one of the most beautiful of the British birds. 
 The forehead is white, streaked with black ; 
 the head is covered with very long feathers, 
 which it can erect into a crest at pleasure ; the 
 whole neck, back, breast, and belly, are of a 
 faint purple, dashed with gray ; the wings are 
 most beautifully barred with a lovely blue, 
 black, and white ; the tail is black, and the 
 feet of a pale brown. Like the magpie, it 
 feeds upon fruits, will kill small birds, and is 
 extremely docile. 
 
 The Chatterer also, which is a native of 
 Germany, may be placed in this rank ; and is 
 somewhat less than the former. It is varie- 
 gated with a beautiful mixture of colours ; red, 
 ash-colour, chesnut, and yellow : but what dis- 
 tinguishes it from all other birds, are the hor- 
 ny appendages from the tips of seven of the 
 lesser quill feathers, which stand bare of beards, 
 and have the colour and gloss of the best red 
 sealing-wax. 
 
 The Roller is not less beautiful than any of 
 the former. The breast and belly are blue ; 
 the head green ; and the wings variegated 
 
 4F 
 
518 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 with blue, black, and white. But it may be 
 distinguished from all others by a sort of naked 
 tubercles or warts near the eyes, which still 
 farther contribute to increase its beauty. 
 
 To this class may be added a numerous list 
 from all the tropical forests of the east and west; 
 where the birds are remarkable for discordant 
 voices and brilliant plumage. I will fix only 
 upon one, which is the most singular of all the 
 feathered creation. This is the Toucan, a 
 bird of the pie kind, whose bill is nearly as 
 large as the rest of its whole body. 
 
 Of this extraordinary bird there are four or 
 five varieties. I will only describe the red- 
 beaked toucan ; and as the figure of this bird 
 makes the principal part of its history, I will 
 follow Edwards through all the minutiae of its 
 singular conformation. It is about the size of 
 and shaped like a jackdaw, with a large head 
 to support its monstrous bill ; this bill, from 
 the angles of the mouth to its point, is six in- 
 ches and a half; and its breadth, in the thick- 
 est part, is a little more than two. Its thick- 
 ness near the head, is one inch and a quarter; 
 and it is a little rounded along the top of the 
 upper chap, the under side being round also ; 
 the whole of the bill is extremely slight, and a 
 little thicker than parchment. The upper chap 
 is of a bright yellow, except on each side, which 
 is of a fine scarlet colour ; as is also the lower 
 chap, except at the base, which is purple. 
 Between the head and the bill there is a black 
 line of separation all round the base of the 
 bill ; in the upper part of which the nostrils 
 are placed, and are almost covered with fea- 
 thers ; which has occasioned some writers to 
 say, that the toucan has no nostrils. Round 
 the eyes, on each side of the head, is a space 
 of bluish skin, void of feathers, above which 
 the head is black, except a white spot on each 
 side joining to the base of the upper chap. 
 The hinder part of the neck, the back, wings, 
 tail, belly, and thighs, are black. The under 
 side of the head, throat, and the beginning of 
 the breast, are white. Between the white on 
 the breast, and the black on the belly, is a 
 space of red feathers in the form of a new 
 moon, with its horns upwards. The legs, feet, 
 and claws, are of an ash-colour ; and the toes 
 stand like those of the parrot, two before, and 
 two behind. 
 
 It is reported, by travellers, that this bird, 
 though furnished with so formidable a beak, 
 
 j is harmless and gentle, being so easily made 
 ' tame, as to sit and hatch its young in houses. 
 It feeds chiefly upon pepper, which it devours 
 very greedily, gorging itself in such a manner, 
 that it voids it crude and unconcocted. This, 
 however, is no objection to the natives from 
 using it again ; they even prefer it before that 
 pepper which is fresh gathered from the tree : 
 and seem persuaded that the strength and heat 
 of the pepper is qualified by the bird, and that 
 all its noxious qualities are thus exhausted. 
 
 Whatever be the truth of this report, nothing 
 is more certain than that the toucan lives only 
 upon a vegetable diet; and in a domestic stale, 
 to which it is frequently brought in the warm 
 countries where it is bred, it is seen to prefer 
 such food to all other. Pozzo, who bred one 
 tame, asserts, that it leaped up and down, 
 wagged the tail, and cried with a voice re- 
 sembling that of a magpie. It fed upon the 
 same things that parrots do ; but was most 
 greedy of grapes, which, being plucked off one 
 by one, and thrown into the air, it would most 
 dexterously catch before they fell to the ground. 
 Its bill, he adds, was hollow, and upon that 
 account very light, so that it had but little 
 strength in so apparently formidable a weapon; 
 nor could it peck or strike smartly therewith. 
 But its tongue seemed to assist the efforts of 
 this unwieldy machine : it was Jong, thin, and 
 flat, not unlike one of the feathers on the neck 
 of a dunghill cock; this it moved up and down, 
 and often extended five or six inches from the 
 bill. It was of a flesh colour, and very re- 
 markably fringed on each side with very small 
 filaments, exactly resembling a feather. 
 
 It is probable that this long tongue has 
 greater strength than the thin hollow beak that 
 contains it. It is likely that the beak is only 
 a kind of sheath for this peculiar instrument, 
 used by the toucan, not only in making itself a 
 nest, but also in obtaining its provision. 
 Nothing is more certain, than that this bird 
 builds its nest in holes of trees, which have 
 been previously scooped out for this purpose; 
 and it is not very likely that so feeble a bill 
 could be very serviceable in working upon 
 such hard materials. 
 
 Be this as it will, there is no bird secures its 
 young better from external injury than the 
 toucan. It has not only birds, men, and 
 serpents, to guard against, but a numerous 
 tribe of monkeys, still more prying, mischiev- 
 
THE PIE KIND. 
 
 519 
 
 ous, and hungry, than all the rest. The tou- 
 can, however, scoops out its nest in the hol- 
 low of some trees, leaving only a hole large 
 enough to go in and out at. There it sits, 
 with its great beak, guarding the entrance, 
 and if the monkey ventures to offer a visit of 
 curiosity, the toucan gives him such a wel- 
 come, that he presently thinks proper to pack 
 off", and is glad to escape with safety. 
 
 This bird is only found in the warm climates 
 of South America, where it is in great request, 
 both for the delicacy of its flesh, which is ten- 
 der and nourishing, and for the beauty of its 
 plumage, particularly the feathers of the breast. 
 The skin of this part the Indians pluck off. 
 and, when dry, glue to their cheeks; and 
 this they consider as an irresistible addition 
 to their beauty. 
 
 CHAPTER Cl. 
 
 OF THE WOODPECKER, AND ITS AFFINITIES. 
 
 WE now come to the numerous tribe of 
 Woodpeckers; a class easily distinguished 
 from all others, both for their peculiar forma- 
 tion, their method of procuring food, and their 
 manner of providing a place of safety for 
 their young. Indeed, no other class of birds 
 seems more immediately formed for the me- 
 thod of life they pursue, being fitted by na- 
 ture, at all points, for the peculiarity of their 
 condition. They live chiefly upon the insects 
 contained in the body of trees; and for this 
 purpose are furnished with a straight, hard, 
 strong, angular, and sharp bill, made for pier- 
 cing and boring. They have a tongue of a 
 very great length; round, ending in a sharp, 
 stiff, bony thorn, dentated on each side, to 
 strike ants and insects when dislodged from 
 their cells. Their legs are short and strong, 
 for the purposes of climbing. Their toes 
 stand two forward, and two backward ; which 
 is particularly serviceable in holding by the 
 branches of the trees. They have hard stiff 
 tails to lean upon when climbing. They feed 
 only upon insects, and want that intestine, 
 which anatomists call the cwcum; a circum- 
 stance peculiar to this tribe only. 
 
 Of this bird there are many kinds, and many 
 varieties in each kind. They form large co- 
 lonies in the forests of every part of the world. 
 They differ in size, colour, and appearance; 
 and agree only in the marks above mentioned, 
 or in those habits which result from so pecu- 
 liar a conformation. Instead, therefore, of 
 descending into a minute discrimination of 
 
 every species, let us take one for a pattern, 
 to which all the rest will be found to bear 
 the strongest affinity. Words can but fee- 
 bly describe the plumage of a bird; but it is 
 the province of history to enter into a detail 
 of every animal's pursuits and occupations. 
 The Green Woodspite, or Woodpecker, 
 is called the rain-fowl in some parts of the 
 country; because, when it makes a greater 
 noise than ordinary, it is supposed to foretel 
 rain. It is about the size of a jay ; the throat, 
 breast, and belly, are of a pale greenish co- 
 lour ; and the back, neck, and covert feathers 
 of the wings, are green. But the tongue of 
 this little animal makes its most distinguish- 
 ed characteristic, as it serves for its support 
 and defence. As was said above, the wood- 
 pecker feeds upon insects ; and particularly 
 on those which are lodged in the body of hol- 
 low or of rotting trees. The tongue is its in- 
 strument for killing and procuring this food ; 
 which cannot be found in great plenty. This 
 is round, ending in a stiff, sharp, bony tip, 
 dentated on both sides, like the beard of an 
 arrow; and this it can dart out three or four 
 inches from the bill, and draw in again at 
 pleasure. Its prey is thus transfixed, and 
 drawn into the bill, which, when swallowed, 
 the dart is again launched at fresh game. No- 
 thing has employed the attention of the cu- 
 rious in this part of anatomy, more than the 
 contrivance by which the tongue of this bird 
 performs its functions with such great celeri 
 ty. The tongue is drawn back into the bill 
 
520 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 by the help of two small round cartilages, 
 fastened into the fore-mentioned bony tip, and 
 running along the length of the tongue. These 
 cartilages, fro n the root of the tongue, take a 
 circuit beyond the ears ; and being reflected 
 backwards to the crown of the head, make a 
 large bow. The muscular spongy flesh of the 
 tongue encloses these cartilages, like a sheath ; 
 and is so made that it may be extended or 
 contracted like a worm. The cartilages in- 
 deed have muscles accompanying them along 
 their whole length backwards. But there is 
 still another contrivance ; for there is a broad 
 muscle joining the cartilages to the bones of 
 the skull, which, by contracting or dilating, 
 forces the cartilages forward through the 
 tongue, and then forces the tongue and all 
 through the bill, to be employed for the ani- 
 mal's preservation in piercing its prey. 
 
 Such is the instrument with which this bird 
 is provided ; and this the manner in which 
 this instrument is employed. When a wood- 
 pecker, by its natural sagacity, finds out a 
 rotten hollow tree, where there are worms, 
 ants' eggs, or insects, it immediately prepares 
 for its operations. Resting by its strong claws, 
 and leaning on the thick feathers of its tail, 
 it begins to bore with its sharp strong beak, 
 until it discloses the whole internal habitation. 
 Upon this, either through pleasure at the sight 
 of its prey, or with a desire to alarm the in- 
 sect colony, it sends forth a loud cry, which 
 throws terror and confusion into the whole 
 insect tribe. They creep hither and thither, 
 seeking for safety ; while the bird luxuriously 
 feasts upon them at leisure, darting its tongue 
 with unerring certainty, and devouring the 
 whole brood. 
 
 The woodpecker, however, does not con- 
 fine its depredations solely to trees, but some- 
 times lights upon the ground, to try its fortune 
 at an ant-hill. It is not so secure of prey there 
 as in the former case, although the numbers 
 arc much greater. They lie generally too 
 deep for the bird to come at them ; and it is 
 obliged to make up by stratagem the defect of 
 power. The woodpecker first goes to their 
 hills, which it pecks, in order to call them 
 abroad ; it then thrusts out its long red tongue, 
 which being like a worm, and resembling 
 their usual prey, the ants come out to settle 
 upon, in great numbers ; however, the bird 
 watching the properest opportunity, withdraws 
 
 its tongue at a jerk, and devonres the devou- 
 rers. This stratagem it continues till it has 
 alarmed their fears ; or till it is quite satisfied. 
 As the woodpecker is obliged to nidke holes 
 in trees to procure food, so is it also to make 
 cavities still larger to form its nest, and to lay 
 in. This is performed, as usual, with the bill; 
 although some have affirmed that the animal 
 uses its tongue as a gimblet to bore with. 
 But this is a mistake; and those that are 
 curious, may often hear the noise of the bill 
 making its way in large woods and forests. 
 The woodpecker chooses, however, for this 
 purpose, trees that are decayed, or wood that 
 is soft, like beach, elm, and poplar. In these, 
 with very little trouble, it can make holes as 
 exactly round as a mathematician could with 
 compasses. One of these holes the bird gene- 
 rally chooses for its own use, to nestle and 
 bring up its young in; but as they are easily 
 made, it is delicate in its choice, and often 
 makes twenty before one is found fit to give 
 entire satisfaction. Of those which it has 
 made and deserted, other birds, not so good 
 borers, and less delicate in their choice, take 
 possession. The jay and the starling lay 
 their eggs in these holes ; and bats are now 
 and then found in peaceable possession. Boys 
 sometimes have thrust in their hands with cer- 
 tain hopes of plucking out a bird's egg ; but, 
 to their great mortification, have had their 
 fingers bitten by a bat at the bottom. 
 
 The woodpecker takes no care to line its 
 nest with feathers or straw; its eggs are de- 
 posited in the hole, without any thing to keep 
 them warm, except the heat of the parent's 
 body. Their number is generally five, or six; 
 always white, oblong, and of a middle size. 
 When the young are excluded, and before 
 they leave the nest, they are adorned with a 
 scarlet plumage under the throat, which adds 
 to their beauty. 
 
 In our climate, this bird is contented with 
 such a wainscot habitation as has been de- 
 scribed for its young ; but in the warmer 
 regions of Guinea and Brasil, they take a very 
 different method to protect and hatch their 
 nascent progeny. A traveller who walks into 
 the forests of those countries, among the first 
 strange objects that excite curiosity, is struck 
 with the multitude of birds' nests hanging at 
 the extremity of almost every branch. Many 
 other kinds of birds build in this manner, but 
 
THE PIE KIND 
 
 the chief of them are of the woodpecker kind; 
 and indeed there is not, in the whole history 
 of nature, a more singular instance of the 
 sagacity of those little animals in protecting 
 themselves against such enemies as they have 
 most occasion to fear. In cultivated coun- 
 tries, a great part of the caution of the fea- 
 thered tribe is to hide or defend their nests 
 from the invasions of man ; as he is their most 
 dreaded enemy. But in the depth of those 
 remote and solitary forests, where man is but 
 seldom seen, the little bird has nothing to 
 apprehend from man. The parent is care- 
 less ho\f much the nest is exposed to general 
 notice ; satisfied if it be out of the reach of 
 those rapacious creatures that live by rob- 
 bery and surprise. If the monkey or the 
 snake can be guarded against, the bird has 
 no other enemies to fear ; for this purpose its 
 nest is built upon the depending points of the 
 most outward branches of a tall tree, such as 
 the banana, or the plantain. On otie of those 
 immense trees, is seen the most various and 
 the most inimical assemblage of creatures 
 that can be imagined. The top is inhabited 
 by monkeys of some particular tribe, that 
 drive off all others; lower down twine about 
 the great trunk numbers of the larger snakes, 
 patiently waiting till some unwary animal ' 
 comes within the sphere of their activity, 
 and at the edges of the tree hang these 
 artificial nests, in great abundance, inhabited 
 by birds of the most delightful plumage. 
 
 The nest is usually formed in this manner: 
 when the time of incubation approaches, they 
 fly busily about, in quest of a kind of moss, 
 called by the English inhabitants of those 
 
 This bird constructs a curious nest with the long fibres 
 of plants andj grass, and suspends it by a kind of cord, 
 nearly half an ell loner, from the end of a slender branch 
 of a tree, that it may be inaccessible to snakes, and secure 
 fro ' n the intrusion of the numerous monkeys which inhabit 
 those regions. At the end of this cord, is a gourd-shaped 
 
 countries, old man's beard. It is a fibrous sub- 
 stance, and not very unlike hair, which bears 
 being moulded into any form, and suffers be- 
 ing glued together. This therefore the little 
 woodpecker, called by the natives of Brasil, 
 the guiratemga, first glues, by some viscous 
 substance gathered in the forest, to the ex- 
 tremest branch of a tree; then building down- 
 ward, and still adding fresh materials to those 
 already procured, a nest is formed, that de- 
 pends, like a pouch, from the point of the 
 branch : the hole to enter at, is on the side ; 
 and all the interior parts are lined with the 
 finer fibres of the same substance, which com- 
 pose the whole. 
 
 Such is the general contrivance of these 
 hanging nests ; which are made, by some 
 other birds, with still superior art. A little 
 bird of the Grosbeak kind, in the Philippine 
 islands, makes its nest in such a manner that 
 there is no opening but from the bottom. At 
 the bottom the bird enters, and goes up 
 through a funnel like a cliimney, till it conies 
 to the real door of the nest, which lies on one 
 side, and only opens into this funnel.' 
 
 Some birds glue their nest to the leaf of 
 the banana-tree, which makes two sides of 
 their little habitation ; while the other two 
 are artificially composed by their own indus- 
 try. But these, and all of the kind, are built 
 with the same precautions to guard the young 
 against the depredations of monkeys and 
 serpents, which abound in every tree. The 
 nest hangs there before the spoilers, a tempt- 
 ing object, which they can only gaze upon, 
 while the bird flies in and out, without danger 
 or molestation from so formidable a vicinity. 
 
 nest, divided into three apartments; the first of which is 
 occupied by the male, the second by the female, and the 
 third contains the young; and in the first apartment, where 
 the male keeps watch, is placed on one side a little tough 
 clay, and on the top of this clay is fixed a glow-worm, to 
 afford its inhabitants light in the night. 
 
522 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 CHAPTER CU. 
 
 OF THE BIRD OF PARADISE, AND ITS VARIETIES 
 
 THERE are few birds that have more de- 
 ceived and puzzled the learned than this. 
 Some have described it as an inhabitant of 
 the air, living only upon the dew of heaven, 
 and never resting below; others have ac- 
 quiesced in the latter part of its history, but 
 have given it flying insects to feed on. Some 
 have asserted that it was without feet, and 
 others have ranked it among the birds of prry. 
 
 The great beauty of this bird's plumage, 
 and the deformity of its legs, seem to have 
 given rise to most of these erroneous reports. 
 The native savages of the Molucca Islands, 
 of which it is an inhabitant, were very little 
 studious of natural history; and, perceiving 
 the inclination the Europeans had for this 
 beautiful bird, carefully cut off its legs before 
 they brought it to market; thus concealing 
 its greatest deformity, they considered them- 
 selves entitled to rise in their demands when 
 they offered it for sale. One deceit led on 
 to another; the buyer finding the bird with- 
 out legs, naturally inquired after them; and 
 the seller as naturally began to assert that 
 it had none. Thus far the European was im- 
 posed upon by others ; in all the rest he im- 
 posed upon himself. Seeing so beautiful a 
 bird without legs, he concluded that it could 
 live only in air, where legs were unnecessary. 
 The extraordinary splendour of its plumage 
 assisted this deception; and, as it had hea- 
 venly beauty, so it was asserted to have a 
 heavenly residence. From thence its name, 
 and all the false reports that have been pro- 
 pagated concerning it. 
 
 Error, however, is short-lived; and time 
 has discovered that this bird not only has 
 legs, but very large strong ones for its size. 
 Credulity, when undeceived, runs into the 
 opposite extreme ; and soon after this harm- 
 less bird was branded with the character of 
 being rapacious, of destroying all those of 
 smaller size, and from the amazing rapidity 
 of its flight, as qualified peculiarly for exten- 
 
 sive rapine. The real history of this pretty 
 animal is at present tolerably well known; 
 and it is found to be as harmless as it is beau- 
 tiful. 
 
 There are two kinds of the bird of Para- 
 dise; one about the size of a pigeon, which 
 is more common ; the other not much larger 
 than a lark, which has been described more 
 imperfectly. They are both sufficiently dis- 
 tinguished from all other birds, riot only by 
 the superior vivacity of their tints, but by the 
 feathers of the tail, there being two long slen- 
 der filaments growing from the upper part of 
 the rump; these are longer than the bird's 
 body, and bearded only at the end. By this 
 mark the bird of Paradise may be easily 
 known, but still more easily by rts gaudy live- 
 ry, which, being so very brilliant, demands 
 to be minutely described. 
 
 This bird appears to the eye as large as 
 a pigeon, though in reality the body is not 
 much greater than that of a thrush. The 
 tail, which is about six inches, is as long as 
 the body ; the wings are large, compared 
 with the bird's other dimensions The head, 
 the throat, and the neck, are of a pale gold 
 colour. The base of the bill is surrounded 
 by black feathers, as also the side of the head 
 and throat, as soft as velvet, and changeable 
 like those on the neck of a mallard. The 
 hinder part of the head is of a shining green, 
 mixed with gold. The body and wings are 
 chiefly covered with beautiful brown, purple, 
 and gold feathers. The uppermost part of 
 the tail-feathers are of a pale yellow, and 
 those under them white, and longer than the 
 former; for which reason the hinder part of 
 the tail appears to be all white. But what 
 chiefly excites curiosity are, the two long na- 
 ked feathers above mentioned, which spring 
 from the upper part of the rurrop above the 
 tail, and which are usually about three feet 
 long. These are bearded only at the begin- 
 ning and the end ; the whole shaft, for above 
 
,\W. ft/trunk ,M 
 
 GENUS MEROPS 
 Bee Eater ; 
 
 WATTJ.ED S.Ji. 
 
 G.CTTjrA 
 Hoopoe 
 
 2.~to...\','i;r XrlnnJiif ^.M-Frtmerpps *.'. Epops i>.\?.En-tf>n>rrn<-/i<>.s 
 VEW ZKALAJfU B.E. C^dP-B H. COMMONS. RED BILLED B. 
 
THE PIE KIND. 
 
 523 
 
 two feet nine inches, being of a deep blark, 
 while the feathered extremity is of a change- 
 able colour, like the mallard's neck. 
 
 This bird, which for beauty exceeds all 
 oth-Ts of the pie kind, is a native of the Mo- 
 lucca Islands, but found in greatest numbers 
 in that of Aro. There, in the delightful and 
 spicy woods of the country, do these beautiful 
 creatures fly in large flocks ; so that the groves 
 which produce the richest spices produce the 
 finest birds also. The inhabitants themselves 
 are not insensible of the pleasure these afford, 
 and give them the name of God's birds, as he- 
 ing superior to all others that he lias made. 
 They live in large flocks, and at night gene- 
 rally perch upon the same tree. They are 
 called by some, the swallows of Ternate, from 
 their rapid flight, and from thoir being con- 
 tinually on the wing in pursuit of insects, their 
 usual prey. 
 
 As the country where they are bred has its 
 tempestuous season, when rains and thunders 
 continually disturb the atmosphere, these birds 
 are then but seldom seen. It is thought that 
 they then fly to other countries, where their 
 food appears in greater abundance ; for, like 
 swallows, they have their stated times of re- 
 turn. In the beginning of the month of August, 
 they are seen in great numbers flying together; 
 
 and, as the inhabitants would have us believe, 
 following their king, who is distinguished from 
 the rest by the lustre of his plumage, and that 
 respect and veneration which is paid him. In 
 the evening they perch upon the highest trees 
 of the forest, particularly one which bears a 
 red berry, upon which they sometimes feed, 
 when other food fails them. In what 
 manner they breed, or what may be the 
 number of their young, as yet remains for dis- 
 covery. 
 
 The natives, who make a trade of killing 
 and selling these birds to the Europeans, gene- 
 rally conceal themselves in the trees \vhere 
 they resort, and having covered themselves up 
 fro.n sight in a bower made of the branches, 
 they shoot at the birds with reedy arrows ; 
 and, as they assert, if they happen to kill the 
 king, they then have a good chance for killing 
 the greatest part of the flock. The chief 
 marks by which they know the king is by the 
 ends of the feathers in his tail, which have eyes 
 like those of a peacock. When they have 
 taken a number of these birds, their usual 
 method is to gut them, and cut off their legs; 
 they then run a hot iron into the body, which 
 dries up the infernal moisture ; and, filling the 
 cavity with salts and spices, they sell them to 
 the Europeans for a perfect trifle. 
 
 CHAPTER Cin. 
 
 THE CUCKOO, AND ITS VARIETIES. 
 
 FROM a bird of which many fables have 
 been reported, we pass to another that has not 
 given less scope to fabulous invention. The 
 note of the cuckoo is known to all the world ; 
 the history and nature of the bird itself still re- 
 mains in great obscurity. That it devours its 
 parent, that it changes its nature with the sea- 
 son, and becomes a sparrow-hawk, were 
 fables invented of this bird, and are now 
 sufficiently refuted. But where it resides in 
 winter, or how it provides for its supply during 
 that season, still continues undiscovered. 
 
 This singular bird, which is somewhat less 
 than a pigeon, shaped like a magpie, and of 
 
 MO. 45 St 46 
 
 a grayish colour, is distinguished from all other 
 birds by its round prominent nostrils. Having 
 disappeared all the winter, it discovers itself in 
 our country early in the spring, by its well- 
 known call. Its note is heard earlier or later, 
 as the season seems to be more or less for- 
 ward, and the weather more or less inviting. 
 From the cheerful voice of this bird the farmer 
 niay be instructed in the real advancement of 
 the year. The fallibility of human calendars 
 is but too well known ; but fivm this bird's 
 note, the husbandman may be taught when to 
 sow his most useful seeds, and to do such 
 work as depends upon a certain temperature 
 
 40 
 
524 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 of the air. These feathered guides come to 
 us heaven-taught, and point out the true com- 
 mencement of the season. 
 
 The cuckoo, that was silent some time after 
 its appearance, begins at first feebly, and at 
 very distant intervals, lo give its call, which, 
 as the summer advances, improves both in its 
 frequency and loudness. This is an invitation 
 to courtship, and used only by the male, who 
 sits generally perched upon some dead tree, or 
 bare bough, and repeats his song, which he 
 loses as soon as the genial season is over. 
 His note is pleasant, though uniform ; and, 
 from an association of ideas, seldom occurs to 
 the memory without reminding us of the sweets 
 of summer. Custom too has affixed a more 
 ludicrous association to this note ; which, how- 
 ever, we that are bachelors need be in no puin 
 about. This reproach seems to arise from 
 this bird's making use of the bed or nest of 
 another to deposite its own brood in. 
 
 However this may be, nothing is more cer- 
 tain than that the female makes no n s f her 
 own. She repairs for that purpose to the nest 
 of some other bird, generally the water-wag- 
 tail or hedge-sparrow, and having devoured 
 the eggs of the owner, lays her own in their 
 place. She usually lays but one, which is 
 speckled, and of the size of a blackbird's. 
 This the fond foolish bird hatches with great 
 assiduity, and, when excluded, finds no differ- 
 ence in the great ill-looking changeling from 
 her own. To supply this voracious creature, 
 the ci odulous nurse toils with unusual labour, 
 no way sensible that she is feeding up an ene- 
 my to her race, and one of the most destructive 
 robbers of her future progeny. 
 
 It was once doubted whether these birds 
 were carnivorous ; but Reaumur was at the 
 pains of breeding up several, and found that 
 they would not feed upon bread or orn ; out 
 flesh and insects were their favourif nourish- 
 ment He found it a very difficult task to 
 teach them to peck ; for he was obliged to feed 
 them a full month after they were grown as 
 big as the mother. Insects, however, seemed 
 to be their peculiar food when young; for 
 they devoured flesh by a kind of constraint, as 
 it was always put into their mouths ; but meal- 
 worm insects they flew to, and swallowed of 
 their own accord most greedily Indeed, 
 their gluttony is not to be wondered at, when 
 we consider the capacity of their stomach, 
 
 which is enormous, and reaches from the 
 breast-bone to the vent. It is partly mem- 
 branous, partly muscular, and of a prodigious 
 capacity ; yet still they are not to be supposed 
 as birds of prey, for they have neither die 
 strength nor the courage. On the contrary, 
 they are naturally weak and fearful, as appears 
 by their flying from small birds, which every 
 where pursue them. The young birds are 
 brown, mixed with black ; and in that state they 
 have been described by some authors as old ones. 
 
 The cuckoo, when fledged and fitted for 
 flight, follows its supposed parent but for a 
 little time ; its appetites for insect food increas- 
 ing, as it finds no great chance for a supply 
 in imitating its little instructor, it parts good 
 friends, the step-child seldom offering any vio- 
 'ence to its nurse. Nevertheless, all the little 
 birds of the grove seem to consider the young 
 cuckoo as an enemy, and revenge the cause 
 of their kind by their repeated insults. They 
 pursue it wherever it flies, and oblige it to 
 take shelter in the thickest branches of some 
 neighbouring tree. All the smaller birds form 
 the train of its pursuers ; but the wry-neck, in 
 particular, is found the most active in the 
 chase ; and from thence it has been called by 
 many, the cuckoo's attendant and provider. 
 But it is very far from following with a friend- 
 ly intention ; it only pursues as an insulter, or 
 a spy, to warn all its little companions of the 
 cuckoo's depredations. 
 
 Such are the manners of this bird while it 
 continues to reside, or to be seen amongst us. 
 But early, at the approach of winter, it totally 
 disappears, and its passage can be traced to no 
 other country. Some suppose that it lies hid 
 in hollow trees ; and others that it passes into 
 warmer climates. Which of these opinions is 
 true is very uncertain, as there are no facts 
 related on either side that can be totally relied 
 on. To support the opinion that they remain 
 torpid during the winter, at home, Willoughby 
 introduces the following story, which he de- 
 livers upon the credit of another. " The ser- 
 vants of a gentleman, in the country, having 
 stocked up in one of their meadows some old, 
 dry, rotten willows, thought proper, on a cer- 
 tain occasion, to carry them home. In heat- 
 ing a stove, two logs of this timber were put 
 into the furnace beneath, and fire applied as 
 usual. But soon, to the great surprise of the 
 family, was heard the voice of a cuckoo, sing- 
 
THE PIE KIND. 
 
 525 
 
 ing three times from under the stove. Won- 
 dering at so extraordinary a cry in winter 
 time, the servants ran and drew the willow 
 logs from the furnace, and in the midst of one 
 of them saw something move) wherefore, 
 taking an axe, they opened the hole, and 
 thrusting in their hands, first they plucked 
 out nothing but feathers ; afterwards they 
 got hold of a living animal ; and this was the 
 cuckoo that had waked so very opportunely 
 for its own safety. It was, indeed," continues 
 our historian, " brisk and lively, but wholly 
 naked and bare of feathers, and without any 
 winter provision in its hole. This cuckoo 
 the boys kept two years afterwards alive in 
 the stove; but whether it repaid them with a 
 second song, the author of the tale has not 
 thought lit to inform us." 
 
 The most probable opinion on this subject 
 is, that as quails and woodcocks shift their 
 habitations in winter, so also does the cuckoo ; 
 but to what country it retires, or whether it 
 has been ever seen on its journey, are ques- 
 tions that I am wholly incapable of resolv- 
 ing. 
 
 Of this bird there are many kinds in vari- 
 ous parts of the world, not only differing in 
 their colours, but their size. Brisson makes 
 not less than twenty-eight sorts of them ; but 
 what analogy they bear to our English cuckoo, 
 I will not take upon me to determine. He 
 talks of one, particularly of Brasil, as making 
 a most horrible noise in the forests ; which. 
 as it should seem, must be a very different 
 note from that by which our bird is distin- 
 guished at home. 
 
 CHAPTER CIV. 
 
 OF THE PARROT, AND ITS AFFINITIES. 
 
 THE Parrot is the best known among us 
 of all foreign birds, as it unites the greatest 
 beauty with the greatest docility. Its voice 
 also is more like a man's than that .of any 
 other ; the raven is too hoarse, and the jay 
 and magpie too shrill, to resemble the truth ; 
 the parrot's note is of the true pitch, and 
 capable of a number of modulations that even 
 some of our orators might wish in vain to 
 imitate. 
 
 The ease with which this bird is taught to 
 speak, and the great number of words which 
 it is capable of repeating, are no less surpris- 
 ing. We are assured by a grave writer, that 
 one of these was taught to repeat a whole 
 sonnet from Petrarch ; and that I may not be 
 wanting in my instance, I have seen a parrot 
 belonging to a distiller, who had suffered 
 pretty largely in his circumstances from an 
 informer who lived opposite him, very ridicu- 
 lously employed. This bird was taught to 
 pronounce the ninth commandment, TTiou 
 shall not bear false witness against thy neighbour, 
 with a very clear, loud, articulate voice. The 
 bird was generally placed in its cage over 
 
 
 against the informer's house, and delighted 
 the whole neighbourhood with its persevering 
 exhortations. 
 
 Willoughby tells a story of a parrot, which 
 is not so dull as those usually brought up 
 when this bird's facility of talking happens to 
 be the subject. "A parrot belonging to King 
 Henry the Seventh, who then resided at 
 Westminster, in his palace by the riverThames, 
 had learned to talk many words from the 
 passengers as they happened to take the 
 water. One day, sporting on its perch, the 
 poor bird fell into the water, at the same 
 time crying out, as loud as he could, Ji boat ! 
 twenty pounds for a boat ! A waterman, who 
 happened to be near, hearing the cry, made 
 to the place where the parrot was floating, 
 and taking him up, restored him to the king. 
 As it seems the bird was a favourite, the man 
 insisted that he ought to have a reward rather 
 equal to his services than his trouble : and, 
 as the parrot had fried twenty pounds, he 
 said the king was bound in honour to 
 grant it. The king at last agreed to leave 
 it to the parrot's own determination, which 
 
526 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 the bird hearing, cried out, Give the knave a 
 groat." 
 
 The parrot, which is so common as a fo- 
 reign bird with us, is equally so as an indige- 
 nous bird in the climates where it is produ- 
 ced. The forests swarm with them ; and the 
 rook is not better known with us than the par- 
 rot in almost every part of the East and West 
 Indies. It is in vain that our naturalists have 
 attempted to arrange the various species of 
 this bird; new varieties daily offer to puzzle 
 the system-maker, or to demonstrate the nar- 
 rowness of his catalogues. Linnaeus makes 
 the number of its varieties amount to forty- 
 seven ; while Brisson doubles the number, 
 and extends his catalogue to ninety-five. Per- 
 haps even this list might be increased, were 
 every accidental change of colour to be con- 
 sidered as constituting a new species. But, 
 in fact, natural history gains little by these 
 discoveries ; and as its dominions are extend- 
 ed it becomes more barren. It is asserted, 
 by sensible travellers, that tlie natives of 
 Brasil can change the colour of a parrot's 
 plumage by art. If this be true, and I am 
 apt to believe the information, they can make 
 new species at pleasure, and thus cut out 
 endless work for our nomenclators at home. 
 
 Those who usually bring these birds over, 
 are content to make three or four distinctions, 
 to which they give names; and with these 
 distinctions I will content myself also. The 
 large kind, which are of the size of a raven, 
 are called maccaws ; the next size are simply 
 called parrots; those which are entirely white, 
 are called lories ; and the lesser size of all 
 are called parakeets. The difference between 
 even these is rather in size than any other 
 peculiar conformation, as they are all formed 
 alike, having toes, two before and two behind, 
 for climbing and holding; strong hooked bills 
 for breaking open nuts, and other hard sub- 
 stances, on which they feed ; and loud harsh 
 voices, by which they fill their native woods 
 with clamour. 
 
 But there are further peculiarities in their 
 conformation: and first, their toes are con- 
 trived in a singular manner, which appears 
 when they walk or climb, and when they are 
 eating. For the first purpose they stretch 
 two of their toes forward, and two backward ; 
 tmt when they take their meat, and bring it 
 
 to their mouths with their foot, they dexte- 
 rously and nimbly turn the greater hii;d toe 
 forward, so as to take a firmer grasp of the 
 nut or the fruit they are going to feed on, 
 standing all the while upon the other leg. 
 Nor even do they present their food in the 
 usual manner; for other animals turn their 
 meat inwards to the mouth ; but these, in a 
 seemingly awkward position, turn their meat 
 outwards, and thus hold the hardest nuts, as 
 if in one hand, till with their bills they break 
 the shell, and extract the kernel. 
 
 The bill is fashioned with still greater pe- 
 culiarities ; for the upper chap, as well as the 
 lower, are both moveable. In most other 
 birds the upper chap is connected, and makes 
 but one piece with the skull; but in these, 
 and in one or two species of the feathered 
 tribe more, the upper chap is connected to 
 the bone of the head by a strong membrane, 
 placed on each side, that lifts and depresses 
 it at pleasure. By this contrivance they can 
 open their bills the wider; which is not a lit- 
 tle useful, as the upper chap is so hooked and 
 so over-hanging, that, if the lower chap only 
 had motion, they could scarcely gape suffi- 
 ciently to take any thing in for their nourish- 
 ment. 
 
 Such are the uses of the beak and the toes, 
 when used separately; but they are often 
 employed both together, when the bird is 
 exercised in climbing. As these birds can- 
 not readily hop from bough to bough, their 
 legs not being adapted for that purpose, they 
 use both the beak and the feet ; first catching 
 hold with the beak, as if with a hook, then 
 drawing up the legs and fastening them, then 
 advancing the head and beak again, and so 
 putting forward the body and the feet alter- 
 nately, till they attain the height they aspire to. 
 
 The tongue of this bird somewhat resem- 
 bles that of a man; for which .reason some 
 pretend that it is so well qualified to imitate 
 the human speech; but the organs by which 
 these sounds are articulated lie farther down 
 in the throat, being performed by the great 
 motion which the oshyoides has in these birds 
 above others. 
 
 The parrot, though common enough in Eu- 
 rope, will not, however, breed here. The 
 climate is too cold for its warm constitution ; 
 and though it bears our winter when arrived 
 
THE PIE KIND. 
 
 527 
 
 at maturity, yet it always seems sensible of 
 its rigour, and loses both its spirit and appe- 
 tite during the colder part of the season. It 
 then becomes torpid and inactive, and seems 
 quite changed from that bustling loquacious 
 animal which it appeared in its native forest, 
 where it is almost ever upon the wing. Not- 
 withstanding, the parrot lives even with us a 
 considerable time, if it be properly attended 
 to ; and, indeed, it must be owned, that it 
 employs but too great a part of some people's 
 attention. 
 
 The extreme sagacity and docility of the 
 bird may plead as the best excuse for those 
 who spend whole hours in teaching their 
 parrots to speak; and, indeed, the bird, on 
 those occasions, seems the wisest animal of 
 the two. It at first obstinately resists all in- 
 struction ; but seems to be won by perseve- 
 rance, makes a few attempts to imitate the 
 first sounds, and when it has got one word 
 distinct, all the succeeding come with greater 
 facility. The bird generally learns most in 
 those families where the master or mistress 
 have the least to do ; and becomes more ex- 
 pert, in proportion as its instructers are idly 
 assiduous. In going through the towns of 
 Frnnce some time since, I could not help ob- 
 serving how much plainer their parrots spoke 
 than ours, and how very distinctly I under- 
 stood their parrots speak French, when I 
 could not understand our own, though they 
 spoke my native language. I was at first for 
 ascribing it to the different qualities of the 
 two languages, and was for entering into an 
 elaborate discussion on the vowels and con- 
 sonants : but a friend that was with me solved 
 the difficulty at once, by assuring me that the 
 F.rench women scarcely did any thing else 
 the whole day than sit and instruct their 
 feathered pupils ; and that the birds were 
 thus distinct in their lessons in consequence 
 of continual schooling. 
 
 The parrots of France are certainly very 
 expert, but nothing to those of the Brasils, 
 where the education of a parrot is consider- 
 ed as a very serious affhir. The history of 
 Prince Maurice's parrot, given us by Mr. 
 Locke, is too well known to be repeated 
 here ; but Clusius assures us that the parrots 
 of th.it country are the most sensible and 
 cunning of all animals not endued with rea- 
 
 son. The great parrot, called the aicurou-s, 
 the head of which is adorned with yellow, 
 red, and violet, the body green, the ends of 
 the wings red, the feathers of the tail long and 
 yellow ; this bird, he asserts, which is seldom 
 brought into Europe, is a prodigy of under- 
 standing. " A certain Brasilian woman, 
 that lived in a village two miles distant from 
 the island on which we resided, had a parrot 
 of this kind which was the wonder of the 
 place. It seemed endued with such under- 
 standing, as to discern and comprehend what- 
 ever she said to it. As we sometimes used 
 to pass by that woman's house, she used to 
 call upon us to stop, promising, if we gave 
 her a comb, or a looking-glass, that she would 
 make her parrot sing and dance to entertain 
 us. If we agreed to her request, as soon as 
 she had pronounced some words to the bird, 
 it began not only to leap and skip on the 
 perch on which it stood, but also to talk and 
 to whistle, and imitate the shoutings and ex- 
 clamations of the Brasilians when they pre- 
 pare for battle. In brief, when it came into 
 the woman's head to bid it sing, it sang; to 
 dance, it danced. But if, contrary to our 
 promise, we refused to give the* woman the 
 little present agreed on, the parrot seemed to 
 sympathize in her resentment, and was silent 
 and immoveable; neither could we, by any 
 means, provoke it to move either foot or 
 tongue." 
 
 This sagacity, which parrots show in a do- 
 mestic state, seems also natural to them in 
 their native residence among the woods. 
 They live together in flocks, and mutually 
 assist each other against other animals, either 
 by their courage or their notes of warning. 
 They generally breed in hollow trees, where 
 they make a round hole, and do not line their 
 nests within. If they find any part of a tree 
 beginning to rot from the breaking off of a 
 branch, or any such accident, this they take 
 care toscoop,and to make the hole sufficiently 
 wide and convenient; but it sometimes hap- 
 pens that they are content with the hole 
 which a woodpecker has wrought out with 
 greater ease before them ; and in this they 
 prepare to hatch and bring up their young. 
 
 They lay two or three eggs ; and probably 
 the smaller kind may lay more; for it is a 
 rule that universally holds through nature, 
 
528 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 ihat the smallest animals arc always the most 
 prolific; for being, from their natural weak- 
 ness, more subject to devastation, nature 
 finds it necessary to replenish the species by 
 superior fecundity. In general, however, 
 the number of their eggs is stinted to two, 
 like those of the pigeon, and they are about 
 the same size. They are always marked 
 with little specks, like those of a partridge ; 
 and some travellers assure us, that they are 
 always found in the trunks of the tallest, 
 straightest, and the largest trees. The na- 
 tives of those countries, who have little else 
 to do, are very assiduous in spying out the 
 places where the parrot is seen to nestle, and 
 generally come with great joy to inform the 
 Europeans, if there be any, of the discovery. 
 As those birds have always the greatest do- 
 cility that are taken young, such a nest is 
 often considered as worth taking some trou- 
 ble to be possessed of; and, for this purpose, 
 the usual method of coming at the young is, 
 by cutting down the tree. In the fall of the 
 tree it often happens that the young parrots 
 are killed ; but if one of them survives the 
 shock, it is considered as a sufficient recom- 
 pense. 
 
 Such is the avidity with which these birds 
 are sought when young ; for it is known they 
 always speak best when their ear has not 
 been anticipated by the harsh notes of the 
 wild ones. But as the natives are not able 
 upon all occasions to supply the demand for 
 young ones, they are contented to take the 
 old ; and for that purpose shoot them in the 
 woods with heavy arrows, headed with cot- 
 ton, which knock down the bird without kil- 
 ling it. The parrots thus stunned are car- 
 ried home: some die, but others recover, and, 
 by kind usage and plentiful food, become 
 talkative and noisy. 
 
 But it is not for the sake of their conver- 
 sation alone that the parrot is sought after 
 among the savages ; for though some of them 
 are but tough and ill-tasted, yet there are 
 other sorts, particularly of the small parakeet 
 tribe, that are very delicate food. In gene- 
 ral it obtains, that whatever fruit or grain 
 these birds mostly feed upon, their flesh par- 
 takes of the flavour, and becomes good or 
 ill-tasted, according to the quality of their 
 particular diet. When the guava is ripe, they 
 
 are at that season fat and tender; if they feed 
 upon the seed of the acajou, their flesh con- 
 tracts an agreeable flavour of garlic; if they 
 feed upon the seed of the spicy trees, their 
 flesh then tastes of cloves and cinnamon; 
 while, on the contrary, it is insupportably bit- 
 ter if the berries they feed on are of that qua- 
 lity. Their seed of the cotton-tree intoxicates 
 them in the same manner as wine does man.; 
 and even wine itself is drunk by parrots, as 
 Aristotle assures us, by which they are thus 
 rendered more talkative and amusing. But 
 of all food, they are fondest of the carthamus, 
 or bastard saffron; which, though strongly 
 purgative to man, agrees perfectly with their 
 constitution, and fattens them in a very short 
 time. 
 
 Of the parakeet kind in Brasil, Labat as- 
 sures us, that they are the most beautiful in 
 their plumage, and the most talkative birds 
 in nature. They are very tame, and appear 
 fond of mankind; they seem pleased with 
 holding parley with him; they never have 
 done; but while he continues to talk, answer 
 him, and appear resolved to have the last 
 word : but they are possessed of another qua- 
 lity, which is sufficient to put an end to this 
 association ; their flesh is the most delicate 
 imaginable, and highly esteemed by those 
 who are fonder of indulging their appetites 
 than their ears. The fowler walks into the 
 woods, where they keep in abundance, but 
 as they are green, and exactly the colour of 
 the leaves among which they sit, he only 
 hears their prattle, without being able to see 
 a single bird ; he look? round him, sensible 
 that his game is within gun-shot in abundance, 
 but is mortified to the last degree that it is 
 impossible to see them. Unfortunately for 
 these little animals, they are restless, and 
 ever on the wing, so that in flying from one 
 tree to another, he has but too frequent op- 
 portunities of destroying them ; for as soon 
 as they have stripped the tree on which they 
 sat of all its berries, some one of them flies 
 oflTto another; and, if that be found fit for 
 the purpose, it gives a loud call, which all 
 the rest' resort to. That is the opportunity 
 the fowler has long been wailing for; he fires 
 in among the flock, while they are yet on the 
 wing; and he seldom f- ' of bringing down 
 a part of them. But it is singular enough to 
 
THE PIE KIND. 
 
 see them when they find their companions fall- 
 en. They set up a loud outcry, as il'they were 
 chiding their destroyer, and do notecase till 
 they see him preparing for a second charge. 
 
 But though there are so many motives for 
 destroying these beautiful birds, they are in 
 very great plenty ; and in some countries on 
 the coast of Guinea, they are considered by 
 the negroes as their greatest tormentors. 
 The Hocks of parrots persecute them with 
 their unceasing screaming, and devour what- 
 ever fruits they attempt to produce by art in 
 their little gardens. In other places they are 
 not so destructive, but sufficiently common ; 
 and, indeed, there is scarce a country of the 
 tropical climates that has not many of the 
 common kinds, as well as some peculiarly its 
 own. Travellers have counted more than a 
 hundred different kinds on the continent of 
 Africa only: there is one country in particular, 
 north of the Cape of Good Hope, which takes 
 its name from the multitude of parrots which 
 are seen in its woods. There are white par- 
 rots seen in the burning regions of Ethiopia : 
 in the East Indies they are of the largest size ; 
 in South America they are docile and talka- 
 tive ; in all the islands of the Pacific Sea and 
 the Indian Ocean, they swarm in great variety 
 and abundance, and add to the splendour of 
 those woods which nature has dressed in 
 eternal green. 
 
 So generally are these birds known at pre- 
 sent, and so great is their variety, that no- 
 
 thing seems more extraordinary than that 
 there was but one sort of them known among 
 the ancients, and that at a time when they 
 pretended to be masters of the world. If 
 nothing else could serve to show the vanity 
 of a Roman's boast, the parrot tribe might be 
 an instance, of which there are a hundred 
 kinds now known ; not one of which naturally 
 breeds in the countries that acknowledged 
 the Roman power. The green parakeet, 
 with a red neck, was the first of this kind that 
 was brought into Europe, and the only one 
 that was known to the ancients, from the time 
 of Alexander the Great to the age of Nero : 
 this was brought from India; and when after- 
 wards the Romans began to seek and rum- 
 mage through all their dominions, for new and 
 unheard-of luxuries, they at last found out 
 others in Gaganda, an island of Ethiopia, 
 which they considered as an extraordinary 
 discovery. 
 
 Parrots have usually the same disorders 
 with other birds ; and they have one or two 
 peculiar to their kind. They are sometimes 
 struck by akind of apoplectic blow, by which 
 they fall from their perches, and for a while 
 seem ready to expire. The other is the grow- 
 ing of the beak, which becomes so very much 
 hooked as to deprive them of the power of 
 eating. These infirmities, however, do not 
 hinder them from being long-lived; fora par- 
 rot, well kept, will lire five or six and twenty 
 years. 
 
 CHAPTER CV. 
 
 THE PIGEON, AND ITS VARIETIES. 
 
 THIS is one of the birds which, from its 
 great fecundity, we have, in some measure, 
 reclaimed from a state of nature, and taught 
 to live in habits of dependence. Indeed, its 
 fecundity seems to be increased by human 
 cultivation; since those pigeons that live in 
 a wild state, in the woods, are by no .means 
 BO fruitful as those in our pigeon-houses near- 
 er home. The power of increase in most 
 birds depends upon the quantity of their food; 
 
 and it is seen, in more than one instance, that 
 man, by supplying food in plenty, and allow- 
 ing the animal at the same time a proper 
 share of freedom, has brought some of those 
 kinds which are known to lay but once a 
 year, to become much more prolific. 
 
 The tame pigeon, and all its beautiful va- 
 rieties, derive their origin from one species, 
 the Stock-Dove only ; the English name, im- 
 plying its being the stock or stem from whence 
 
530 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 the other domestic kinds have been propa- 
 gated. This bird, in its natural state, is of a 
 deep bluish ash-colour; the breast dashed 
 with a fine changeable green and purple ; its 
 wings marked with two black bars ; the 
 back white, and the tail barred near the end 
 with black. These are the colours of the 
 pigeon in a state of nature; and from these 
 simple tints has man by art propagated a va- 
 riety that words cannot describe, nor even 
 fancy suggest. However, nature still per- 
 severes in her great outline ; and though the 
 form, colour, and even the fecundity, of these 
 birds, may be altered by art, yet their natu- 
 ral manners and inclinations continue still the 
 same. 
 
 The stock-dove, in its native woods, differs 
 from the ring-dove, a bird that has never been 
 reclaimed, by its breeding in the holes of rocks 
 and the hollows of trees. All other birds of 
 the pigeon kind build, like rooks, in the top- 
 most branches of the forest, and choose their 
 habitation as remote as possible from man. 
 But this species soon takes to build in artificial 
 cavities ; and, from the temptation of a ready 
 provision and numerous society, easily sub- 
 mits to the tyranny of man. Still, however, 
 it preserves its native colour for several gene- 
 rations, and becomes more variegated only 
 in proportion as it removes from the original 
 simplicity of its colouring in the woods. 
 
 The Dove-house Pigeon, as is well known, 
 breeds every month; but then it is necessary 
 to supply it with food when the weather is 
 severe, or the fields are covered with snow. 
 Upon other occasions, it may be left to pro- 
 vide for itself, and it generally repays the 
 owner for his protection. The pigeon lays 
 two white eggs, which most usually produce 
 young ones of different sexes. For the lay- 
 ing of each egg, it is necessary to have a 
 particular congress with the male ; and the 
 egg is usually deposited in the afternoon. 
 When the eggs are thus laid, the female, in 
 the space of fifteen days, not including the 
 three days during which she is employed in 
 laying, continues to hatch, relieved at inter- 
 vals by the male. The turns are usually re- 
 gulated with great exactness. From three or 
 four o'clock in the evening till nine the next 
 day, the female continues to sit; she is then 
 relieved by the male, who takes his place 
 
 from ten till three, while his mate is feeding 
 abroad. In this manner they t^it alternately 
 till the young are excluded. If, during this 
 term, the female delays to return at the ex- 
 pected time, the male follows, and drives her 
 to the nest ; and should he in his turn be 
 dilatory, she retaliates with equal severity. 
 
 The young ones, when hatched, require no 
 food for the three first days, only wanting 
 to be kept warm, which is an employment 
 the female takes entirely upon herself. 
 During this period, she never stir* out, except 
 for a few minutes to take a little food. From 
 this they are fed for eight or ten days with 
 corn or grain of different kinds, which the old 
 ones gather in the fields, and keep treasured 
 up in their crops, from whence they throw it 
 up again into the mouths of their young ones, 
 who very greedily demand it. 
 
 As this method of feeding the young from 
 the crop is different in birds of the pigeon- 
 kind from all others, it demands a more de- 
 tailed explanation. Of all birds, for its size, 
 the pigeon has the largest crop, which is also 
 made in a manner quite peculiar to the kind. 
 In two of these that were dissected by a 
 member of the Royal Academy of Sciences, 
 it was found that if the anatomist blew air 
 into the wind-pipe, it distended the crop or 
 gullet to a prodigious size. This was the 
 more extraordinary, as there seemed to be 
 no communication whatever between these 
 two receptacles ; as the conduit by which we 
 breathe, as every one kiiovvs, leads to a very 
 different receptacle from that where we put 
 our food. By what apertures the air blown 
 into the lungs of the pigeon makes its way 
 into the crop, is unknown; but nothing is more 
 certain than that these birds have a power of 
 filling the crop with air ; and some of them, 
 which are called croppers, distend it in such 
 a manner, that the bird's breast seems bigger 
 than its body. The peculiar mechanism of 
 this part is not well known; but the necessity 
 for it in those animals is pretty obvious. The 
 pigeon, as we all know, lives entirely upon 
 grain and water: these are mixed together in 
 the crop; and iii the ordinary way are 
 digested in proportion ns the bird lays in its 
 provision. But !o feod its young, which are 
 very voracious, it is necessary to lay in a 
 store greater than ordin <ry, and to give the 
 
THE PIE KIND. 
 
 531 
 
 food a kind of half maceration, to suit their 
 tender appetites. The heat of the bird's bo- 
 dy, assisted by air, and numerous glands se- 
 parating a milky fluid, are the most necessa- 
 ry instruments for this operation: but, in pro- 
 portion as the food macerates, it begins to 
 swell also; and the crop must, of conse- 
 quence, be considerably dilated. Still, how- 
 ever, the air which is contained in it gives 
 the bird a power of contracting it at plea- 
 sure ; for if it were filled with more solid sub- 
 stances, the bird could have no power to 
 compress it. But this is not the case, the 
 bird can compress its crop at pleasure; and 
 driving out the air, can thus drive out the 
 food also, which is forced up the gullet, like 
 a pellet from a pop-gun. The young ones, 
 open-mouthed, receive this tribute of affec- 
 tion, and are thus fed three times a day. In 
 feeding, the male usually supplies the young 
 female, while the old female supplies the 
 young of the opposite sex. The food with 
 which they are supplied, is more macerated 
 at the beginning; but as they grow older, 
 the parents give it less preparation, and at 
 last drive them out to shift for themselves. 
 When well fed, however, the old ones do not 
 wait for the total dismission of their young; 
 but in the same nest are to be found young 
 ones almost fit for flight, and eggs hatching 
 at the same time. 
 
 The fidelity of the turtle-dove is proverbial, 
 and makes the usual comparison of such poets 
 as are content to repeat what others have 
 said before them ; but the pigeon of the dove- 
 house is not so faithful ; and having been sub- 
 jected to man, it puts on licentiousness among 
 its other domestic habits. Two males are 
 often seen quarrelling for the same mistress; 
 and when the female admits the addresses of 
 a new gallant, her old companion seems to 
 bear the contempt with some marks of dis- 
 pleasure, abstaining from her company; or if 
 he approaches, it is only to chastise her. 
 There have been instances when two males, 
 being displeased with their respective mates, 
 have thought proper to make an exchange, 
 and have lived in great harmony with their 
 new companions. 
 
 So great is the produce of this bird in its 
 domestic state, that near fifteen thousand 
 may, in the space of four years, be produced 
 
 no. 45 & 46. 
 
 from a single pair. But the stock-dove sel- 
 dom breeds above twice a year ; for when 
 the winter months come, the whole employ- 
 ment of the fond couple is rather for self- 
 preservation, than transmitting a posterity 
 They seem, however, to have a stronger at- 
 tachment to their young than those who are 
 found to breed so often ; whether it be that 
 instinct acts more powerfully upon them in 
 their state of nature, or that their affections 
 are less divided by the multiplicity of claims. 
 It is from a species of these, therefore, that 
 those pigeons which are called Carriers, and 
 are used to convey letters, are produced. 
 These are easily distinguished from all others 
 by their eyes, which are compassed about 
 with a broad circle of naked white skin, and 
 by being of a dark blue or blackish colour. 
 It is from their attachment to their native 
 place, and particularly where they have 
 brought up their young, that these birds are 
 employed in several countries as the most 
 expeditious carriers. They are first brought 
 from the place where they were bred, and 
 whither it is intended to send them back with 
 information. The letter is tied under the 
 bird's wing, and it is then let loose to return. 
 The little animal no sooner finds itself at li- 
 berty, than its passion for its native spot di- 
 rects all its motions. It is seen, upon these 
 occasions, flying directly into the clouds to 
 an amazing height ; and then, with the great- 
 est certainty and exactness, directing itself, 
 by some surprising instinct, towards home, 
 which lies sometimes at many miles distance, 
 bringing its message to those to whom it is 
 directed. By what marks they discover the 
 place, by what chart they are guided in the 
 right way, is to us utterly unknown : certain 
 it is, that in the space of an hour and a half 
 they perform a journey of forty miles ; which 
 is a degree of despatch three times greater 
 than the fleetest quadruped can perform. 
 These birds are not brought up at present 
 with as much care as formerly, when they 
 were sent from governors in a besieged city 
 to generals that were coming to relieve it 
 without; when they were sent from princes 
 to their subjects with the tidings of some for- 
 tunate event ; or from lovers to their mistres- 
 ses with expressions of their passion. The 
 only use we now see made of them is to be 
 
 4H 
 
532 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 let fly at Tyburn, when the cart is drawn 
 away; pretty much as when some ancient hero 
 was to be interred, an eagle was let off from 
 the funeral pile, to complete his apotheosis. 8 
 The varieties of the tame pigeon are so nu- 
 merous, that it would be a vain attempt to 
 mention them : so much is the figure and co- 
 lour of this bird under human control, that 
 pigeon-fanciers, by coupling a male and fe- 
 male of different sorts, can breed them, as 
 they express it, to a feather. From hence 
 we have the various names of croppers, carriers, 
 jacobines, powters, runts, and turbits: all birds 
 that at first might have accidentally varied 
 from the stock-dove ; and then, by having 
 these varieties still heightened by food, cli- 
 mate, and paring, different species have been 
 produced. But there are many species of 
 the wild pigeon, which, though bearing a 
 strong affinity to the stock-dove, are, never- 
 theless, sufficiently different from it to de- 
 serve a distinct description. The ring-dove 
 is of this number; a good deal larger than 
 the former, and building its nest with a few 
 dry sticks, in the boughs of trees. This 
 seems a bird much fonder of its native free- 
 dom than the former; and attempts have 
 been frequently made to render it domestic; 
 but they have hitherto proved fruitless, for 
 though their eggs have been hatched by the 
 tame pigeon in a dove-house, yet, as soon as 
 they could fly, they always betook themselves 
 to the woods where they were first produced. 
 In the beginning of winter these assemble in 
 great flocks in the woods, and leave off coo- 
 
 In the Annual Register for the year 1765, we read of 
 an experiment which was made, by which the velocity of 
 flight in these birds was pretty well ascertained. A gen- 
 tleman, for a trifling wager, sent a carrier-pigeon from 
 London by the coach, to a friend at St. Edmondsbury ; 
 and along with it a note, desiring that the pigeon, two 
 days after its arrival there, might be thrown up precisely 
 when the town clock struck nine in the morning. This 
 was accordingly done; and the pigeon arrived in London, 
 and flew into the Bell Inn in Bishopsgnte-street. at half an 
 hour past eleven o'clock of the saim morning ; having 
 flown 72 miles in the space of two hours and a half. 
 
 Some years ago this animal was made use of for a very 
 extraordinary purpose. During the drawing of the Lot- 
 
 ing; nor do they resume this note of court- 
 ship till the beginning of March, when the 
 genial season, by supplying them with food, 
 renews their desires. 
 
 The turtle-dove is a smaller, but a much 
 shyer bird, than any of the former. It may 
 easily be distinguished from the rest by the 
 iris of the eye, which is of a fine yellow, and 
 by a beautiful crimson circle that encompass- 
 es the eye-lids. The fidelity of these birds 
 is noted; and a pair being put in a cage, if 
 one dies the other will not survive it. The 
 turtle-dove is a bird of passage, and few, or 
 none, remain in our northern climates in win- 
 ter. They fly in flocks when they come to 
 breed here in summer, and delight in open, 
 mountainous, sandy countries. But they build 
 their nests in the midst of woods, and choose 
 the most retired situations for incubation. 
 They feed upon all sorts of grain, but are 
 fondest of millet-seed. 
 
 To this short list might be added a long 
 catalogue of foreign pigeons, of which we 
 know little more than the plumage and the 
 names. Indeed, the variety of their plumage 
 is as beautiful, as the names by which they 
 are known are harsh and dissonant. The 
 ocotzimtzcan, for instance, is one of the most 
 splendid tenants of the Mexican forests; but 
 few, I believe, would desire to learn the name, 
 only to be informed that it is covered with 
 purple, green, and yellow, plumage. To de- 
 scribe such birds, the historian's pen is not 
 half such a useful implement as the painter's 
 pencil. 
 
 tery, a gang of sharpers, distributed in various places, de- 
 vised a scheme for making this bird the instrument of 
 their plunder. One of these was to bring with him a car- 
 rier-pigeon, and wait in the Guildhall till a large prize was 
 drawn, and with all possible despatch to place the fortu- 
 nate number under the wing of the pigeon, and let him 
 loose. This intelligence was faithfully conveyed to his 
 associate, in a much more speedy manner than by the 
 usual mode, and he was directed to ensure the number to 
 whatever amount he thought proper. It is probable, that 
 from this circumstance might arise the application of the 
 common cant term pigeon, to any one who had been over- 
 reached and cheated. 
 
SPARROW KIND. 
 
 533 
 
 OF BIRDS OF THE SPARROW KIND. 
 
 CHAPTER CVI. 
 
 OF BIRDS OF THE SPARROW KIND. 
 
 STILL descending from the larger to the 
 smaller, we come to birds of the sparrow kind ; 
 or that class of beautiful little animals that, 
 being less than the pigeon, go on diminishing 
 till we arrive at the humming-bird, the small- 
 est of the feathered creation. 
 
 The birds which compose this class chiefly 
 live in the neighbourhood of man, and are his 
 greatest favourites. The falcon may be more 
 esteemed, and the turkey more useful ; but 
 these he considers as servants, not as friends ; 
 as animals reclaimed merely to supply him 
 with some of the conveniences of life : but 
 these little painted songsters have his affections, 
 as well from their beauty as tht-ir melody ; it 
 is this delimit i ful cla?s that fill his groves with 
 harmony, and lift his heart to sympathize with 
 their raptures. All the other classes are either 
 mute or screaming; it is this diminutive tribe 
 only that have voices equal to the beauty of 
 their figures ; equally adapted to rejoice man, 
 and delight each other. 
 
 As they are the favourites of man, so they 
 are chiefly seen near him. All the great birds 
 dread his vicinity, and keep to the thickest dark- 
 ness of the forest, or the brow of the most 
 craggy precipice : but these seldom resort to 
 the thicker p.irts of the wood ; they keep near 
 its edges, in the neighbourhood of cultivated 
 fields, in the hedge-rows of farm grounds, and 
 even in the yard, mixing with the poultry. 
 
 It must be owned, indeed, that their living 
 near man is not a socioty of affection on their 
 part, as they approach inhabited grounds 
 nier 'ly because their chief provision is to be 
 found there. In the depth of the desert, or the 
 gloom of the forest, there is no grain to be 
 picked up ; none of those tender buds that are 
 
 so grateful to their appetites: insects themselves, 
 that make so great a part of their food, arc 
 not found there in abundance ; their natures 
 being unsuited to the moisture of the place. 
 As we enter, therefore, deeper into uncultivated 
 woods, the silence becomes more profound ; 
 every thing carries the look of awful stillness ; 
 there are none of those warblings, none of 
 those murmurs, that awaken attention, as near 
 the habitations of men ; there is nothing of that 
 confused buzz, formed by the united, though 
 distant, voices of quadrupeds and birds ; but 
 all is profoundly dead and solemn. Now and 
 then, indeed, the traveller may be roused from 
 this lethargy of life, by the voice of a heron, 
 or the scream of an eagle ; but his sweet little 
 friends and warblers have totally forsaken 
 him. 
 
 There is still another reason for these little 
 birds avoiding the depths of the forests; which 
 is, that their most formidable enemies usually 
 reside there. The greater birds, like robbers, 
 choose the most dreary solitudrs for their re- 
 treats ; and if they do not find, they make a 
 desert all around them. The small birds fly 
 from their tyranny, and take protection in the 
 vicinity of man, where they know their more 
 unmerciful foes will not venture to pursue 
 them. 
 
 All birds, even those of passage, seem con- 
 tent with a certain district to provide food and 
 centre in. The red-breast or the wren seldom 
 leaves the field where it has been brought up, 
 or where its young have been excluded ; even 
 though hunted it flies along the hedge, and 
 seems fond of the place with an imprudent 
 perseverance. The fact is, all these small 
 birds mark out a territory to themselves, which 
 4H* 
 
534 
 
 A HISTOKI 
 
 they will permit none of their own species to 
 remain in ; they guard their dominions with 
 the most watchful resentment ; and we seldom 
 find two male tenants in the same hedge to- 
 gether. 
 
 Thus, though fitted by nature for the most 
 wandering life, these little animals do not 
 make such distant excursions, during the sea- 
 son of their stay, as the stag or the leveret. 
 Food seems to be the only object that puts them 
 in motion, and when that is provided for them 
 in sufficient plenty, they never wander. But 
 as that is seldom permanent through the year, 
 almost every bird is then obliged to change its 
 abode. Some are called ' irds of passage, be- 
 cause they are obliged to take long journeys 
 for this purpose ; but, strictly speaking, almost 
 every other kind are birds of passage, though 
 their migration may not be to places so re- 
 mote. At some particular season of the year, 
 all small birds migrate either from one country 
 to another, or from the more inland provinces 
 towards the shore. 
 
 There are several persons who get a liveli- 
 hood by watching the seasons when our small 
 birds begin to migrate from one country to 
 another, and by taking them with nets in their 
 passage. The birds are found to fly, as the 
 bird-catchers term it, chiefly during the month 
 of October, and part of September and No- 
 vember. There is also another flight in March, 
 which is much less considerable than that in 
 autumn. Nor is it less remarkable, that seve- 
 ral of these species of flight-birds make their 
 appearance in regular succession. The pippet, 
 for instance, begins its flight every year about 
 Michaelmas, when they are caught in greatest 
 number. To this the wood-lark succeeds, and 
 continues its flight till towards the middle of 
 October ; other birds follow, but are not so 
 punctually periodical; the green-finch does not 
 begin till the frost obliges it to seek for a change. 
 These birds, during those months, fly from 
 day-break till twelve at noon ; and there is 
 afterwards a small flight from two till night. 
 Such are the seasons of the migration of the 
 birds, which have been usually considered as 
 stationary, and on these occasions they are 
 caught in great abundance, as they are on 
 their journey. But the same arts used to al- 
 lurf* them upon other occasions would be 
 utterly fruitless, as they avoid the nets with 
 the most prudent circumspection. The au- 
 
 tumnal flight probably consists of the parents 
 conducting their new-fledged young to (hose 
 places where there is sufficient provision, a^d 
 a proper temperament of the air during t'ae 
 winter season ; and their return in spring is 
 obviously from an attachment to the place 
 which was found so convenient before for the 
 purposes of nestling and incubation 
 
 Autumn is the principal season when the 
 bird-catcher employs his art to catch these 
 wanderers. His nets are a most ingenious 
 piece of mechanism, being generally twelve 
 yarns and a half long, and two yards and a 
 half wide, and so contrived as from a flat po- 
 sition to rise on each side, and clap over the 
 birds that are decoyed to come between them. 
 The birds in their passage are always observed 
 to fly against the wind ; hence there is a great 
 contention among the bird-catchers which 
 shall gain the wind ; for example, if it is 
 westerly, the bird-catcher who lays his nets 
 most to the east, is sure of the most plentiful 
 sport, if his call- birds are good. For this pur- 
 pose, he generally carries five or six linnets, 
 two gold-finches, two green finches, one wood- 
 lark, one red-poll, and perhaps a bull finch, a 
 yellow-hammer, a tit-lark, and an aberdavine: 
 these are placed at small distances from the 
 nets in little cages. He has besides what he 
 calls his Jlur-birds, which are placed upon a. 
 moveable perch, which the bird-catcher can 
 raise at pleasure by moans of a string ; and 
 these he always lifts gently up and down as 
 the wild bird approaches. But this is not 
 enough to allure the wild bird down ; it must 
 be called by one of the call-birds in the cages; 
 and these, by being made to moult prema- 
 turely in a warm cage, call louder and better 
 than those that are wild and at freedom. 
 There even appears a malicious joy in these 
 call-birds to bring the wild ones into the same 
 state of captivity, while at the same time their 
 call is louder, and their plumage brighter, than 
 in a state of nature. Nor is their sight or 
 hearing less exquisite, far exceeding that of 
 the bird-catcher ; for the instant the wild birds 
 are perceived, notice is given by one to the 
 rest of the call-birds, who all unite in the same 
 tumultuous ecstacy of pleasure. The call 
 birds do not sing upon these occasions as a 
 bird does in a chamber, but incite the wild 
 ones by short jerks, which, when the birds are 
 good, may be heard at a great distance. The 
 
THE SPARROW KIND. 
 
 535 
 
 -"""pr'nt of this call is so great, that the 
 wiM bud bearing .^ _ P, . ' . 
 
 rapid flight; and, if not already ScxjuJ 11 ." 
 with the nets, lights boldly within twenty yards 
 perhaps of the bird-catcher, and on a spot 
 which it would otherwise have quite disregard- 
 ed. This is the opportunity wished for, and 
 the bird-catcher pulling a string, the nets on 
 each side rise in an instant, and clap directly 
 down on the poor little unsuspecting visitant. 
 Nay, it frequently happens, that if half a flock 
 Only are caught, the remaining half will im- 
 mediately afterwards light between the nets, 
 and share the fate of their companions. 
 Should only one bird escape, this unhappy 
 survivor will also venture into danger till it is 
 caught; such a fascinating power have the call- 
 birds. 
 
 Indeed, it is not easy to account for the na- 
 ture of this call, whether it be a challenge to 
 combat, an invitation to food, or a prelude to 
 courtship. As the call-birds are all males, and 
 as the wild birds that attend to their voice are 
 most frequently males also, it does not seem 
 that love can have any influence in their assi- 
 duity. Perhaps the wild females, in these 
 flights, attend to and obey the call below, and 
 their male companions of the flight come down 
 to bear them company. If this be the case, 
 and that the females have unfaithfully ed their 
 mates into the nets, they are the first that are 
 punished for their infidelity : the males arc 
 only made captives for singing ; while the fe- 
 males are indiscriminately killed, and sold to 
 be served up to the tables of the delicate. 
 
 Whatever be the motives that thus arrest a 
 flock of birds in their flight, whether they be 
 of gallantry or of war, it is certain that the 
 small birds are equally remarkable for both. 
 It is, perhaps, the genial desire that inspires 
 the courage of most animals ; and that being 
 greatest in the males, gives them a greater de- 
 gree of valour than the females. Small birds 
 being extremely amorous, are remarkably 
 brave. However contemptible these little 
 warriors are to larger creatures, they are often 
 but too formidable to each other ; and some- 
 times fight till one of them yields up his life 
 with the victory. But their contentions are 
 sometimes of a gentler nature. Two male 
 birds shall strive in song, till, after a long strug- 
 gle, the loudest shall entirely silence the other. 
 During these contentions, the female sits an 
 
 attentive silent auditor, and often rewards the 
 loudest songster with her company during the 
 
 season. 
 
 .">! 
 
 lu &o -V"<T birds is almost universally 
 the prerogative ol the nm,, ; . ,;,,, fll j t 
 
 the reverse of what occurs in the human kino. 
 Among the feathered tribe, the heaviest cares 
 of life fall to the lot of the female. Her's is 
 the fatigue of incubation, and to her devolves 
 the principal fatigue of nursing the helpless 
 brood. To alleviate these fatigues, and to sup- 
 port her under them, nature has given the 
 song to the male. This serves as a note of 
 blandishment at first to attract her affections ; 
 it serves as a note to delight her during the 
 time of her incubation ; but it serves still far- 
 ther as a note of security, to assure her that 
 no danger threatens to molest her. The male, 
 while his mate is hatching, sits upon some 
 neighbouring tree, continuing at once to watch 
 and to sing. While his voice is heard, the fe- 
 j male rests in confident security ; and, as the 
 poet expresses it, appears most bless d when 
 most unseen : but if any appearance of danger 
 offers to intrude, the male, that a moment be- 
 fore was so loud and sportive, stops all of a 
 sudden ; and this is a most certain signal to 
 his mate to provide for her own security. 
 
 The nest of little birds seems to be of a 
 more delicate contrivance than that of the lar- 
 ger kinds. As the volume of their bodies is 
 smaller, the materials of which their nests are 
 composed are generally warmer. It is easy 
 to conceive that small things keep heat a 
 shorter time than those that are large, The 
 eggs, therefore, of small birds require a place 
 of more constant warmth than those of great 
 ones, as being liable to cool more quickly ; 
 and accordingly their nests are built warmer 
 and deeper, lined on the inside with softer 
 substances, and guarded above with a better 
 covering. But it sometimes happens that the 
 little architects are disturbed in their opera- 
 tions, and then they are obliged to make a 
 nest, not such as they wish, but such as they 
 can. The bird whose nest has been robbed 
 several times, builds up her last in a very 
 slovenly manner, conscious that, from the near 
 approach of winter, she must not take time to 
 give her habitation every possible advantage 
 it is capable of receiving. When the nest is 
 finished, nothing can exceed the cunning which 
 the male and female employ to conceal it. 
 
536 
 
 A HISTORY OP 
 
 If it is built in bushes, the pliant branches 
 are so disposed as to hide it entirely from 
 
 the view; if it be built among moss, nntk: =- 
 
 ^ .<. mere is an 
 outwardly appears tf, ~ , . 
 
 te t ^ A _ J _ ! _Ji. rhtrfm. It is always built near 
 >se places where food is found in greatest 
 abundance; and they take care never to go 
 in or out while there is any one in sight. The 
 greater birds continue from their nest for 
 some time, as their eggs take no damage in 
 their absence; but the little birds are assi- 
 duous while they sit, and the nest is always 
 occupied by the male when the female is 
 obliged to seek for sustenance. 
 
 The first food of all birds of the sparrow 
 kind is worms and insects. Even the spar- 
 row and the gold-finch, that when adult feed 
 only upon grain, have both been fed upon 
 insects while in the nest. The young ones, 
 for some time after their exclusion from the 
 shell, require no food ; but the parent soon 
 finds, by their chirping and gaping, that they 
 begin to feel the approaches of hunger, and 
 flies to provide them a plentiful supply. In 
 her absence they continue to lie close to- 
 gether, and cherish each other by their mu- 
 tual warmth. During this interval also, they 
 preserve a perfect silence, uttering not the 
 slightest note, till the parent returns. Her 
 arrival is always announced by a chirrup, 
 which they perfectly understand, and which 
 they answer all together, each petitioning for 
 its portion. The parent distributes a sup- 
 ply to each by turns, cautiously avoiding to 
 gorge them, but to give them often, though 
 (tie at a time. The wren will in this man- 
 ner feed seventeen or eighteen young ones, 
 without passing over one of them. 
 
 Such is the manner in which these birds 
 bring forth and hatch their young; but it yet 
 remains to usher them from the nest into life, 
 and this they very assiduously perform. When 
 they are fully fledged, and fitted for short 
 flights, the old ones, if the weather be fair, 
 lead them a few yards from the nest, and then 
 compel them to return. For two or three 
 succeeding days they are led out in the same 
 manner, but each day to seek more distant 
 adventures. When it is perceived that they 
 can fly, and shift for themselves, then the pa- 
 rents forsake them for ever, and pay them no 
 more attention than they do to other birds in 
 
 Indeed, it 
 ...>, 1 3, mat, 
 
 the same flock. , 
 
 these I'*' 1 - "'=>> mat, trom the moment 
 -,,cir young are set out, all future connexion 
 ceases between the male and the female; 
 they go separate ways, each to provide for 
 itself during the rigours of winter; and, at 
 the approach of spring, each seeks for a new 
 associate. 
 
 In general, birds, when they come to pair 
 in spring, associate with those of their own 
 age and place of abode. Their strength or 
 courage is generally in proportion to their 
 age : the oldest females first feel the acces- 
 ses of desire, and the oldest males are the 
 boldest to drive off all younger pretenders. 
 Those next in courage and desire become 
 pretenders, till they are almost all provided 
 in turn. The youngest come last; as, in fact, 
 they are the latest in their inclinations. But 
 still there are several, both males and females, 
 that remain unprovided for; either not hap- 
 pening to meet with each other, or at least 
 not during the genial interval. Whether 
 these mix with small birds of a different spe- 
 cies, is a doubt which naturalists have not 
 been able thoroughly to resolve. Addison, 
 in some beautiful Latin lines, inserted in the 
 Spectator, is entirely of opinion (hat birds 
 observe a strict chastity of manners, and 
 never admit the caresses of a different tribe. 
 
 Chaste are their instincts, faithful is their fire, 
 No foreign buauty tempts to false desire : 
 The snow-white vesture, and the glittering crown, 
 The simple plumage, or the glossy down, 
 Prompt not their love. The patriot bird pursues 
 His well acquainted tints, and kindred hues : 
 Hence thro' their tribes no mix'd polluted flame, 
 No monster-breed to mark the groves with shame : 
 But the chaste blackbird, to its partner true, 
 Thinks black alone is Beauty's fav'rite hue: 
 The nightingale, with mutual passion blest, 
 Sings to its mate, and nightly charms the nest : 
 While the dark owl, to court his partner flies, 
 And owns his offspring in their yellow eyes. 
 
 But whatever may be the poet's opinion, 
 the probability is against this fidelity among 
 the smaller tenants of the grove. The great 
 birds are much more true to (heir species than 
 these; and, of consequence, the varieties 
 among them are more few. Of the ostrich, the 
 cassowary, and the eagle, there are but few 
 species ; and no arts that man can use, could 
 probably induce them to mix with each other. 
 
THE SPARROW KIND. 
 
 537 
 
 But it is otherwise with the small birds we 
 are describing; it requires very little trou- 
 ble to make a species between a gold-finch 
 and a canary-bird, between a linnet and a 
 lark. They breed frequently together; and 
 produce a race, not, like the mules among 
 quadrupeds, incapable of breeding again; 
 for this motley mixture are as fruitful as their 
 parents. What is so easily done by art, very 
 probably often happens in a state of nature; 
 and when the male cannot find a mate of his 
 own species, he flies to one of another, that, 
 Jike him, has been left out in pairing. This, 
 some historians think, may have given rise to 
 the great variety of small birds that are seen 
 among us ; some uncommon mixture might 
 first have formed a new species, and this 
 might have been continued down, by birds of 
 this species choosing to breed together. 
 
 Whether the great variety of our small 
 birds may have arisen from this source, can- 
 not now be ascertained ; but certain it is, 
 that they resemble each other very strongly, 
 not only in their form and plumage, but also 
 in their appetites and manner of living. The 
 gold-finch, the linnet, and the yellow-hammer, 
 though obviously of different species, yet 
 lead a very similar life; being equally an ac- 
 tive, lively, salacious tribe, that subsist by 
 petty thefts upon the labours of mankind, and 
 repays them with a song. Their nests bear 
 a similitude; and they are all about the same 
 time in hatching their young, which is usual- 
 ly fifteen days. Were I therefore to describe 
 the manners of these with the same minute- 
 ness that I have done the greater birds, I 
 should only present the reader with a repe- 
 tition of the same accounts; animated neither 
 by novelty nor information. Instead, there- 
 fore, of specifying each sort, I will throw 
 them into groupes; uniting those together 
 that practise the same manners, or that are 
 remarkable for similar qualifications. 
 
 Wilioughby has divided all the smaller 
 birds into those that have slender bills, and 
 those that have short and thick bills. Those 
 with slender bills, chiefly live upon insects; 
 those with short strong bills, live mostly upon 
 fruits and grain. Among slender-billed birds, 
 he enumerates the thrush, the blackbird, the 
 fieldfare, the starling, the lark, the titmouse, 
 the water-wagtail, the nightingale, the red- 
 
 start, the robin-red-breast, the beccafigo, the 
 stone-chatter, the whinchat, the gold-finch, 
 the while-throat, the hedge-sparrow, the pet- 
 tichaps. the golden-crowned wren, the wren, 
 the humming-bird, and several other small 
 birds of the sparrow-kind, unknown in this 
 part of the world. 
 
 All these, as was said, live for the most 
 part upon insects; and are .consequently of 
 particular benefit to man. By these are his 
 grounds cleared of the pernicious swarms of 
 vermin that devour the budding leaves and 
 flowers; and that even attack the root itself, 
 before ever the vegetable can come to matu- 
 rity. These seek for and destroy the eggs of 
 insects that would otherwise propagate in 
 j numbers beyond the arts of man to extirpate: 
 they know better than man where to seek 
 for them ; and thus at once satisfy their own 
 appetites, and render him the most essential 
 services. 
 
 But this is not the only merit of this tribe : 
 in it we have the sweetest songsters of the 
 grove; their notes are softer, and their man- 
 ner more musically soothing, than those of 
 hard-billed birds. The foremost in musical 
 fame are the nightingale, the thrush, the 
 blackbird, the lark, the red-breast, the black- 
 cap, and the wren. 
 
 Birds of the sparrow-kind, with thick and 
 short bills, are the gross-beak, the green-finch, 
 the bull-finch, the crossbill, the house-spar- 
 row, the chaffinch, the brambling, the gold- 
 finch, the linnet, the siskin, the bunting, the 
 yellow-hammer, the ortolan, the wheat-ear, 
 and several other foreign birds, of which we 
 know rather the names than the history. 
 These chiefly feed upon fruits, grain, and 
 corn. They are often troublesome to man, 
 as they are a numerous tribe; the harvest 
 often suffers from their depredations; and 
 while they are driven ofFfrom one end of the 
 field, they fly round, and come in at the other. 
 But these also have their uses : they are fre- 
 quently the distributors of seeds into dif- 
 ferent districts; those grains which they 
 swallow, are sometimes not wholly digested ; 
 and these, laid upon a soil congenial to them, 
 embellish the face of nature with that agree- 
 able variety, which art but vainly attempts 
 to imitate. The mistletoe plant, which we 
 often see growing on the tops of elm and 
 
538 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 other-trees, hasbeenthoughtto be propagated 
 in this manner ; yet, as it is often seen grow- 
 ing on the under side of the branch, and 
 sometimes on a perpendicular shoot, it seems 
 extraordinary how a seed could be deposited 
 in that situation. However this be, there are 
 many plants propagated from the depositions 
 of birds ; and some seeds are thought to 
 thrive the better for first having undergone a 
 kind of maceration in the stomach of the lit- 
 tle animal, before it is voided on the ground. 
 
 There are some agreeable songsters in this 
 tribe also; and those who like a loud piercing 
 pipe, endued with great variety and perseve- 
 rance, will be pleased most with their singing. 
 The songsters of this class are the canary- 
 bird, the linnet, the chaffinch, the gold-finch, 
 the green-finch, the bull-finch, the brambling, 
 the siskin, and the yellow-hammer. The note 
 of these is not so generally pleasing as that 
 of the soft-billed birds, but it usually holds 
 longer ; and, in a cage, these birds are more 
 easily fed, and more hardy. 
 
 This class of small birds, like all the greater, 
 has its wanderers, that leave us for a season, 
 and then return, to propagate, to sing, or to 
 embellish the landscape here. Some of this 
 smaller kind, indeed, are called birds of pas- 
 sage, that do not properly come under that 
 denomination; for though they disappear in 
 one place, they never leave the kingdom, but 
 are seen somewhere else. But there are 
 many among them that take longer flights, 
 and go to a region colder or warmer, as it 
 suits their constitutions. The fieldfare and 
 the red-wing breed pass their summers in 
 Norway, and other cold countries, and are 
 tempted hither to our mild winters, and to 
 those various berries which then abound with 
 us, and make their principal food. The haw- 
 finch and the crossbill are uncertain visitants, 
 and have no stated times of migration. Swal- 
 lows of every species disappear at the ap- 
 proach of winter. The nightingale, the black- 
 cap, the fly-catcher, the willow-wren, the 
 wheat-ear, the whin-chat, and the stone-chat- 
 ter, leave us long before the approach of 
 winter; while the siskin and the linnet only 
 forsake us when our winters are more than 
 usually severe. All the rest of the smaller 
 
 tribe never quit this country; but support 
 the severest rigours of the climate. 
 
 Yet it must not be supposed that the man- 
 ners of our little birds prevail in all other 
 countries ; and that such kinds as are station- 
 ary with us, never wander in other parts of 
 Europe : on the contrary, it happens that 
 many of those kinds which are birds of pas- 
 sage in England, are seen, in other places, 
 never to depart, but to make one country 
 their fixed residence, the whole year round. 
 It is also frequent, that some birds, which 
 with us are faithful residents, in other king- 
 doms put on the nature of birds of passage, 
 and disappear for a season. 
 
 The swallow, that with us is particularly 
 remarked for being a bird of passage, in 
 Upper Egypt, and in the island of Java, breeds 
 and continues the whole year, without ever 
 disappearing. Larks, that remain with us 
 the year throughout, are birds of passage in 
 Sweden ; and forsake that climate in winter 
 to return again with the returning spring. 
 The chaffich, that with us is stationary, ap- 
 pears during the winter in Carolina and 
 Virginia; but disappears totally in summer, 
 to breed in the more northern regions. In 
 Sweden, also, these little birds are seen re- 
 turning, at the approach of spring, from the 
 warmer climates, to propagate; which being 
 accomplished by the latter end of autumn, 
 the males and females separate; the males to 
 continue among their native snows, the fe- 
 males to seek a warmer and gentler winter. 
 On this occasion, they are seen in Hocks, 
 that darken all the air, without a single male 
 among them, making their way into the more 
 southern regions of Denmark, Germany, and 
 Holland. In this Amazon-like retrent. thou- 
 sands fall by the way ; some by fatigue, some 
 by want ; but the greatest number by the nets 
 of the fowler ; the taking them being one of 
 the chief amusements among the gentry where 
 they pass. In short, the change of country 
 with all this little tribe, is rather a pilgrimage 
 than a journey ; a migration rather of neces- 
 sity than of choice. 
 
 Having thus givena generalidea of the birds 
 of this class, it will be proper to give some 
 account of the most remarkable among them- 
 
THE SPARROW KIND. 
 
 539 
 
 
 CHAPTER CVII. 
 
 OF THE THRUSH, AND ITS AFFINITIES. 
 
 WITH the Thrush we may rank the red- 
 wing, the fieldfare, the blackbird, the 'ring- 
 ouzel, and the water-ouzel. These are the 
 largest of the sparrow kind, and may be dis- 
 tinguished from all others of this class, as 
 well by their size, which is well known, as by 
 their bills, whi li are a little bending at the 
 point; a small notch near the end of the up- 
 per chap ; and the outmost toe adhering as far 
 as the first joint of t e middle toe. To this 
 tribe nny be also ad ed the stare or starling, 
 which, though with a flat bill, too much re- 
 sembles these birds to be placed any where 
 else. 
 
 The missel-thrush is distinguished from all 
 of the kind by its superior size, being much 
 larger than any of them. It differs scarcely in 
 any other respect from the throstle, except 
 that the spots on the breast are larger. It 
 builds its nest in bushes, or on the side of some 
 tree, as all of this kind are found to do, and 
 lays four or five eggs in the season. Its song 
 is very fine, which it begins in spring, sitting 
 on the summit of a high tree. It is the largest 
 bird of all the feathered tribe that has music 
 in its voice ; the note of all greater birds be- 
 ing either screaming, chattering, or croaking. 
 It feeds on insects, holly, and mistletoe-berries; 
 and sometimes sends forth a very disagreeable 
 scream when frighted or disturbed. 
 
 The blackbird, which in cold countries, and 
 particularly upon the Alps, is sometimes seen 
 all over white, is a beautiful and canorous bird, 
 whistling all the spring and summer time 
 with a note, at a distance, the most pleasing 
 of all the grove. It is the deepest toned 
 warbler of the woods ; but it is rather unplea- 
 sant in a cage, being loud and deafening. It 
 lays four or five bluish eggs, in a nest usually 
 built at the stump of some old hawthorn, well 
 plastered on the inside with clay, straw, and 
 hair. 
 
 Pleasing, however, as this bird may be, the 
 Blue-bird, described by Bellonius, is in every 
 respect far superior. This beautiful animal 
 
 NO. 45 it 46. 
 
 entirely resembles a blackbird in all but its 
 blue colour. It lives in the highest parts of 
 the Alps, and even there chooses the most 
 craggy rocks and the most frightful precipices 
 for its residence. As it is rarely caught, it is 
 in high estimation even in the countries where 
 it breeds, but still more valuable when carried 
 from home. It not only whistles in the most 
 delightful manner, but speaks with an articu- 
 late distinct voice. It is so docile, and ob- 
 serves all things with such diligence, that 
 though waked at midnight by any of the fami- 
 ly, it will speak and whistle at the word of 
 command. Its colour, about the beginning of 
 winter, from blue becomes black, which 
 changes to its original hue on the first ap- 
 proaches of spring. It makes its nest in deep 
 holes, in very high and iuacessible solitudes, 
 and removes it not only from the accesses of 
 man, but also hides it with surprising cunning 
 from the shammoy and other wild beasts that 
 might annoy its young. 
 
 The manner of taking this beautiful bird is 
 said to be this. The fowlers, either by chance 
 or by lying in wait, having found out the place- 
 where it builds, take with them a strong stilt or 
 stake, such as the climbers of rocks make use 
 of to assist them in their ascent. With the 
 assistance of this, they mount where an indif- 
 ferent spectator would think it impossible to 
 ascend, covering their heads at the same time 
 to ward off any danger of the failing of pebbles 
 or stones from above. At length, with ex- 
 treme toil and danger, having arrived at the 
 nest, they draw it up from the hole in \\hich 
 it is usually buried, and cherish the young with 
 an assiduity equal to the pains they took to 
 obtain them. It produces for the most part 
 five young, and never more; it seldom de- 
 scends into the plain country, flies swifter than 
 a blackbird, and uses the same food. 
 
 The fieldfare and the redwing make but a 
 short stay in this country. With us they are 
 insipid tuneless birds, flying in flocks, and ex- 
 cessively watchful to preserve the general 
 
 41 
 
540 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 safety. All their season of music and plea- 
 sure is employed in the more northern cli- 
 mates, where they sing most delightfully, 
 perched among the forests of maples, with 
 which those countries abound. They build 
 their nests in hedges; and lay six bluish- 
 green eggs spotted with black. 
 
 The stare, distinguishable from the rest of 
 this tribe by the glossy green of its feathers 
 in some lights, and the purple in others, breeds 
 in hollow trees, eaves of houses, towers, ruins, 
 cliffs, and often in high rocks over the sea. 
 It lays four or five eggs of a pale greenish 
 ash-colour, and makes its nest of straw, small 
 fibres of roots, and such like. Its voice is 
 rougher than the rest of this kind ; but what 
 it wants in the melody of its note, it compen- 
 sates by the facility with which it is taught 
 to speak. In winter these birds assemble 
 in vast flocks, and feed upon worms and in- 
 sects. At the approach of spring, they as- 
 semble in fields as if in consultation together, 
 and for three or four days seem to take no 
 nourishment : the greater part leave the coun- 
 try ; the rest breed here, and bring up their 
 young. 
 
 To this tribe might be added above a 
 a hundred other birds of nearly the thrush 
 size, and living like them upon fruit and ber- 
 ries. Words could not afford variety enough 
 to describe all the beautiful tints that adorn 
 the foreign birds of the thrush kind. The 
 brilliant green of the emerald, the flaming red 
 of the ruby, the purple of the amethyat, or 
 the bright blue of the sapphire, could not, 
 by the most artful combination, show any 
 thing so truly lively or delightful to the sight, 
 as the feathers of the chilcoqui or the tauto- 
 
 tal. Passing, therefore, over these beautiful, 
 but little-known, birds, I will only mention 
 the American mock-bird, the favourite songs- 
 ter of a region, where the birds excel rather 
 in the beauty of their plumage than the sweet- 
 ness of their notes. 
 
 This valuable bird does not seem to vie 
 with the feathered inhabitants of that coun- 
 try in the beauty of its plumage, content with 
 qualifications that endear it to mankind much 
 more. It is but a plain bird to the eye, about 
 the size of a thrush, of a white and gray co- 
 lour, and a reddish bill. It is possessed not 
 only of its own natural notes, which are mu- 
 sical and solemn, but it can assume the tone 
 of every other animal in the wood, from the 
 wolf to the raven. It seems even to sport it- 
 self in leading them astray. It will, at one 
 time, allure the lesser birds with the.call of 
 their males, and then terrify them, when they 
 have come near, with the screams of the ea- 
 gle. There is no bird in the forest but it 
 can mimic ; and there is none that it has not 
 at times deceived by its call. But, not like 
 such as we usually see famed for mimicing 
 with us, and who have no particular merit of 
 their own, the mock-bird is ever surest to 
 please when it is most itself. At those times 
 it usually frequents the houses of the Ameri- 
 can planters; and, sitting all night on the 
 chimney-top, pours forth the sweetest and the 
 most various notes of any bird whatever. It 
 would seem, if accounts be true, that the de- 
 ficiency of most other song-birds in that coun- 
 try, is made up by this bird alone. They 
 often build their nests in the fruit-trees about 
 houses, feed upon berries and other fruits, 
 and are easily rendered domestic. 
 
 CHAPTER CV1II. 
 
 OF THE NIGHTINGALE, AND OTHER SOFT-BILLED SONG-BIRDS. 
 
 The Nightingale is not only famous among 
 the moderns for its singing, but almost every 
 one of the ancients, who undertook to de- 
 scribe beautiful nature, has contributed to 
 raise its reputation. " The nightingale," says 
 
 Pliny, " that for fifteen days and nights, hid 
 in the thickest shades, continues her note 
 without intermission, deserves our attention 
 and wonder. How surprising that so great 
 a voice can reside in so small a body! such 
 
THE SPARROW KIND. 
 
 54 1 
 
 perseverance in so minute an animal ! With 
 what a musical propriety are the sounds it 
 produces modulated ! The note at one time 
 drawn out with a Ions; breath, now stealing 
 off into a different cadence, now interrupted 
 by a break, then changing info a new note by 
 an unexpected transition ; now seeming to 
 renew the same strain, then deceiving expec- 
 tation! She sometimes seems to murmur within 
 herself; full, deep, sharp, swift, drawling, 
 trembling; now at the top, the middle, find 
 the bottom of the scale ! In short, in that 
 little bill seems to reside all the melody which 
 man has vainly laboured t() bring from a variety 
 of musical instruments. Some even seem to 
 be possessed of a different song from the rest, 
 and contend with each other with great ardour. 
 The bird overcome is then seen only to dis- 
 continue its song with its life." 
 
 This most famous of the feathered tribe 
 visits England in the beginning of April, and 
 leaves us in August. It is found but in some 
 of the southern parts of the country, being to- 
 tally unknown in Scotland, Ireland, or North 
 Wales. They frequent thick hedges and low 
 coppices, and generally keep in the middle of 
 th>' bush, so that they are rarely seen. They 
 begin their song in the evening, and generally 
 cont ; nue it for the whole night. For weeks 
 together, if undisturbed, they sit upon the 
 same tree; and Siiakspeare rightly describes 
 the nightingale sifting nightly in the same 
 place, which I have frequently observed she 
 seldom departs from. 
 
 From Pliny's description, we should be led 
 to believe this bird possessed of a persevering 
 strain ; but though it is in fact so with the 
 nightingale in Italy, yet in our hedges in 
 England the little songstress is by no means so 
 liberal of her music. Her note is soft, various, 
 and interrupted ; she seldom holds it without 
 a pause above the time that one can count 
 twenty. The nightingale's pausing song would 
 be the proper epithet for this bird's music 
 with us, which is more pleasing than the 
 tvarbling of any other bird, because it is heard 
 at a time when all the rest are silent. 
 
 In the beginning of May, the nightingale 
 prepares to make its nest, which is formed of 
 the leaves of trees, straw, and moss. The 
 nest being very eagerly sought after, is as cun- 
 ningly secreted ; so that but very few of them 
 r^e found by the boys when they go upon 
 
 these pursuits. It is built at the bottom of 
 hedges, where the bushes are thickest and brst 
 covered. While the female continues sitting, 
 the male at a good distance, but ahvays within 
 hearing, cheers the patient hour with his voice, 
 and, by the short interruption of his song, 
 often gives her warning of approaching dan- 
 ger. She lays four or five eggs ; of which but 
 a part in our cold climate come to maturity. 
 
 The delicacy, or rather the fame, of this 
 bird's music, has induced many to abridge its 
 liberty, to be secured of its song. Indeed, the 
 greatest part of what has been written con- 
 cerning it in our country, consists in directions 
 how to manage it for domestic singing ; while 
 the history of the bird is confined to dry re- 
 ceipts for fitting it for the cage. Its song, 
 however, in captivity, is not so very alluring ; 
 and the tyranny of taking it from those hedges 
 where only it is most pleasing, still more de- 
 preciates its imprisoned efforts. Gesner assures 
 us, that it is not only the most agreeable song- 
 ster in a cage, but that it is possessed of a 
 most admirable faculty of talking. He tells 
 the following story in proof of his assertion, 
 which he says was communicated to him by a 
 friend. "Whilst I was at Ilatisbon," says his 
 correspondent, " I put up at an inn, the sign 
 of the Golden Crown, where my host had three 
 nightingales. What 1 am going to repeat is 
 wonderful, almost incredible, and yet is true. 
 The nightingales were placed separately, so 
 that each was shut up by itself in a dark cage. 
 It happened at that time, being the spring of 
 the year, when those birds are wont to sing 
 indefatigably, that I was so afflicted with the 
 stone, that I could sleep but very little all 
 night. It was usual then about midnight, 
 when there was no noise in the house, but all 
 still, to hear the two nightingales janging and 
 talking with each other, and plainly imitating 
 men's discources. For my part I was almost 
 astonished with wonder; for at this time, when 
 all was quiet else, they held conference together, 
 and repeated whatever they had heard among 
 the guests by day. Those two of them that 
 were most notable, and masters of this art, 
 were scarcely ten feet distant from one another. 
 The third hung more remote, so that I could 
 not so well hear it as I lay a-bed. But it is 
 wonderful to tell how those two provked each 
 other; and by answering, invited and drew 
 one another to speak. Yet did they not con 
 n* 
 
542 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 found their words, or talk both together, but 
 rather utter them alternately and of course. 
 Besides the daily discourse of the guests, 
 they chaunted out two stories, which gene- 
 rally held them from midnight till morning ; 
 and that with such modulations and inflex- 
 ions, that no man could have taken to come 
 from such little creatures. When I asked 
 the host if they had been taught, or whether 
 he observed their talking in the night ; he 
 answered, no: the same said the whole family. 
 But I, who could not sleep for nights together, 
 was perfectly sensible of their discourse. 
 One of their stories was concerning the tap- 
 ster and his wife, who refused to follow him to 
 the wars, as he desired her : for the husband 
 endeavoured to persuade his wife, as far as I 
 understood by the birds, that he would leave 
 his service in that inn, and go to the wars in 
 hopes of plunder. But she refused to follow 
 him, resolving to stay either at Ratisbon, or 
 go to Nuremberg. There was a long and 
 earnest contention between them ; and all 
 this dialogue the birds repeated. They even 
 repeated the unseemly words which were 
 cast out between them, and which ought 
 rather to have been suppressed and kept a 
 secret. But the birds, not knowing the dif- 
 ference between modest, immodest, honest, 
 and filthy words, did out with them. The 
 other story was concerning the war which the 
 emperor was then threatening against the 
 Protestants; which the birds probably heard 
 from some of the generals that had conferen- 
 ces in the house. These things did they re- 
 peat in the night after twelve o'clock, when 
 there was a deep silence. But in the day- 
 time, for the most part they were silent, and 
 seemed to do nothing but meditate and revolve 
 with themselves upon what the guests con- 
 ferred tojrcther as they sat at table, or in 
 thoir walks. I verily had never believed our 
 Pliny writing so many wonderful things con- 
 cerning these little creatures, had I not 
 myself seen with my eyes, and heard them 
 with my ears uttering such things as I have 
 related. Neither yet can I of a sudden write 
 all, or call to remembrance every particular 
 that I have heard." 
 
 Such is the sagacity ascribed to the night- 
 ingale: it is but to have high reputation for 
 any one quality, and the world is ready 
 
 enough to give us fame for others to which 
 we have very small pretensions. But there 
 is a little bird, rather celebrated for its affec- 
 tion to mankind than its singing, which, how- 
 ever, in our climate, has the sweetest note of 
 all others. The reader already perceives 
 that I mean the RED-BREAST, the well-known 
 friend of man, that is found in every hedge, 
 and makes it vocal. The note of other birds 
 is louder, and their inflexions more caprici- 
 ous, but this bird's voice is soft, tender, and 
 well supported ; and the more to be valued, 
 as we enjoy it the greatest part of the winter. 
 If the nightingale's song has been compared 
 to the fiddle, the red-breast's voice has all 
 the delicacy of the flute. 
 
 The red-breast, during the spring, haunts 
 the wood, the grove, and the garden ; it re- 
 tires to the thickest and shadiest hedge-rows 
 to breed in. But in winter it seems to be- 
 come more domestic, and often to claim pro- 
 tection from man. Most of the soft-billed 
 birds, the nightingale, the swallow, and the 
 tit-mouse, leave us in the winter, when their 
 insect food is no longer offered in plenty : 
 but the red-breast continues with us the year 
 round, and endeavours to support the famine 
 of winter by chirping round the warm habi- 
 tations of mankind; by coming into those 
 shelters where the rigour of the season is ar- 
 tificially expelled, and where insects them- 
 selves are found in greater numbers, attract- 
 ed by the same cause. 
 
 This bird breeds differently in different 
 places : in some countries its nest is usually 
 found in the crevice of some mossy bank, or at 
 the foot of a hawthorn in hedge-rows ; in 
 others it chooses the thickest coverts, and 
 hides its nest with oak leaves. The eggs are 
 from four to five, of a dull white, with reddish 
 streaks. 
 
 The Lark, whether the sky-lark, the wood, 
 or the tit-lark, being all distinguishable from 
 other little birds by the length of their heel, 
 are louder in their song than either of the 
 former, but not so pleasing. Indeed, the 
 music of every bird in captivity produces no 
 very pleasing sensations; it is but the mirUi 
 of a little animal, insensible of its unfortunate 
 situation : it is the landecap* . (he grove, the 
 golden break of day. the contest ni on the 
 hawthorn, the fluttering from branch to 
 
THE SPARROW KIND 
 
 643 
 
 branch, the soaring in the air, and the answer- 
 ing of its young, that gives the bird's song its 
 true relish. These, united, improve each 
 other, and raise the mind to a state of the 
 highest, yet most harmless, exultation. No- 
 thing can, in this situation of mind, be more 
 pleasing than to see the lark warbling upon 
 the wing; raising its note as it soars, until 
 it seems lost in the immense heights above 
 us; the note continuing, the bird itself unseen; 
 to see it then descending with a swell as it 
 comes from the clouds, yet sinking by degrees 
 as it approaches its nest, the spot where all 
 its affections are centred, the spot that has 
 prompted all this joy. 
 
 The lark builds its nest upon the ground, 
 beneath some turf that serves to hide and 
 shelter it. The female lays four or five eggs, 
 of a dusky hue in colour, somewhat like those 
 of a plover. It is while she is sitting that the 
 male thus usually entertains her with his sing- 
 ing; and while he is risen to an impercepti- 
 ble height, yet he still has his loved partner 
 in his eye, nor once loses sight of the nest, 
 either while he ascends or is descending. 
 This harmony continues several months, be- 1 
 ginning early in the spring on pairing. In 
 winter they assemble in flocks, .when their 
 song forsakes them, and the bird-catchers de- 
 stroy them in great numbers for the tables of 
 the luxurious. 
 
 The Black-cap and the Wren, though so 
 very diminutive, are yet prized by some for 
 their singing. The former is called by some 
 the mock nightingale ; and the latter is ad- 
 mired for the loudness of its note, compared 
 to the little body from whence it issues. It 
 must be confessed, that this disproportion be- 
 tween the voice of a bird and its size, in some 
 measure demands our wonder. Quadrupeds 
 in this respect may be considered as mutes 
 to them. The peacock is louder than the 
 lion, and the rabbit is not so loud as the w ; ren. 
 But it must be considered, that birds are very 
 ditFerently formed ; their lungs in some mea- 
 sure are extended through their whole body, 
 while in quadrupeds they lie only in the 
 breast. In birds there are a variety of cells 
 which take in the air, and thus pour forth 
 their contents at (he little animal's com- 
 mand. The black-cap and the wren, there- 
 fore, are as respectable for their voices as 
 
 they might be deemed inconsiderable for 
 their size. 
 
 All these soft-billed birds, thus prized for 
 their singing, are rendered domestic, and 
 brought up with assiduity by such as are 
 fond of their voices in a cage. The same 
 method of treatment erves for all, as their 
 food and their habits are nearly the same. 
 The manner of taking and treating them, par- 
 ticularly the nightingale, is this: A nightin- 
 gale's nest may be found by observing the 
 place where the male sings, and then by 
 sticking two or three meal-worms (a kind of 
 maggot found in flour) on some neighbour- 
 ing thorn, which when he sees he will infalli- 
 bly bear away to his young. By listening, he 
 then may be heard with the female chirping 
 to the young ones while they are feeding. 
 When the nest is found, if the young ones are 
 not fledged enough to be taken, they must 
 not be touched with the hands, for then the 
 old ones will perceive it, and entice them 
 away. They should not be taken till they 
 are almost as full of feather? as the old ones; 
 and, though they refuse their meat, yet, by 
 opening their bills, you may give them two 
 or three small bits at a time, which w ill make 
 them soon grow tame, when they will feed 
 themselves. They should be put nest and all 
 into a little basket which should be covered 
 up warm: and they should be fed every two 
 hours. Their food should be sheep's hearts, 
 or other raw flesh-meat, chopped very fine, 
 and all the strings, skins, and fat, taken away. 
 But it should always be mixed with hard hen's 
 eggs, upon which they will feed and thrive 
 abundantly. 
 
 They should then be put in cages like the 
 nightingale's back cage, with a little straw or 
 dry moss at the bottom ; but when they are 
 grown large, they should have ant's mould. 
 They should be kept very clean, as indeed 
 should all singing-birds whatsoever; for other- 
 wise they will have the cramp, and perhaps 
 the claws will drop off In autumn they will 
 sometimes abstain from their food for a fort- 
 night, unless two or three meal-worms be 
 given them twice or thrice a week, or two or 
 three spiders in a day; they must likewise 
 have a little saffron in their water. Figs chop- 
 ped small among their meat will help them 
 to recover their flesh. When their legs are 
 
544 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 cramped, they should be anointed with fresh- 
 butter, or capon's fat, three or four days to- 
 gether. If they grow melancholy, put white 
 sugar-candy into their water, and feed them 
 with sheep's heart, giving them three or four 
 meal-worms in a day, and a few ants with 
 their eggs. 
 
 With regard to adult birds, those that are 
 taken before the twenty-third of April are ac- 
 counted the best, because after that they begin 
 to pair. They usually haunt woods, coppices, 
 and quickset hedges, where they may be ta- 
 ken in trap-cages baited with meal-worms. 
 They should be placed as near the spot 
 where the bird sings as possible ; and before 
 you fix the trap, turn up the earth twice the 
 breadth of the cage, because they will there 
 look for food. They are also taken with lime 
 twigs, placing them upon the hedge where 
 they usually sing ; and there should be meal- 
 
 worms stuck at proper places to draw them 
 into the snare. After they are taken, their 
 wings should be gently tied with thread, to 
 prevent their beating themselves against the 
 cage. This should be first hung in a private 
 place, that the bird may not be disturbed; 
 and it should be fed every two hours, at far- 
 thest, with sheep's heart and egg minced very 
 fine, mixing it with meal-worms. However, 
 the first food must be worms, ants, caterpil- 
 lars, and flies. You must, to feed the bird, 
 take it in your hand, and open the bill with 
 a stick made thick at one end, giving it the 
 insects, or four or five bits of food as big as 
 peas, to entice it to eat. Its common food 
 should be mixed with ants, so that when the 
 bird goes to pick up the ants, it may pick up 
 some of that also. The nightingale, when 
 caged, begins to sing about the latter end of 
 November, and continues its song till June. 
 
 CHAPTER CIX. 
 
 OF THE CANARY-BIRD, AND OTHER HARD*-BILLED SINGING-BIRDS. 
 
 THE Canary-bird is now become so com- 
 mon, and has continued so long in a domes- 
 tic state, that its native habits, as well as its 
 native country, seem almost forgotten. Though 
 by the name it appears that these birds came 
 originally from the Canary Islands, yet we 
 have it only from Germany, where they are 
 bred up in great numbers, and sold into dif- 
 ferent parts of Europe. At what period they 
 were brought into Europe is not well known; 
 but it is certain that about a century ago they 
 were sold at very high prices, and kept only 
 for the amusement of the great. They have 
 since been multiplied in great abundance; 
 and their price is diminished in proportion 
 to their plenty. 
 
 In its native Islands, a region equally noted 
 for the beauty of its landscapes and the har- 
 mony of its groves, the Canary-bird is of a 
 dusky gray colour, and so different from those 
 usually seen in Europe, that some have even 
 doubted whether it be of the same species. 
 With us, they have that variety of colouring 
 
 usual in all domestic fowls ; some white, some 
 mottled, some beautifully shaded with green; 
 but they are more esteemed for their note 
 than their beauty, having a high piercing pipe, 
 as indeed all those of the finch tribe have, 
 continuing for some time in one breath with- 
 out intermission, then raising it higher and 
 higher by degrees, with great variety. 
 
 It is this that has rendered the Canary -bird, 
 next to the nightingale, the most celebrated 
 songster; and as it is more easily reared than 
 any of the soft-billed birds, and continues its 
 song throughout the year, it is rather the 
 most common in our houses. Rules, there- 
 fore, have been laid down, and copious in- 
 structions given, for breeding these birds in a 
 domestic state ; which, as a part of them may 
 conduce towards the natural history of the 
 bird, I will take leave to transcribe. 
 
 .In choosing the Canary-bird, those are 
 best that appear with life and boldness, stand- 
 ing upright upon the perch, like a sparrow- 
 hawk, and not apt to be frighted at every 
 
THE SPARROW KIND. 
 
 545 
 
 thing that stirs. If its eyes look cheerful, and 
 not drowsy, it is a sign of health; but, on the 
 contrary, if it hides its head under the wing, 
 and gathers its body up, these are symptoms 
 of its being out of order. In choosing them, 
 the melody of the song should also be mind- 
 ed: some will open with the notes of the 
 nightingale, and, running through a variety 
 of modulations, end like the tit-lark. Others 
 will begin like the sky-lark, and, by a soft 
 melodious turn, fall into the notes of the night- 
 ingale. These are lessons taught this bird 
 in its domestic state, and generally taught it 
 by others; but its native note is loud, shrill, 
 piercing, and enough to deafen the hearers. 
 There are persons who admire each of these 
 .songs, but the second is in the most general 
 estimation. 
 
 Canary-birds sometimes breed all the year 
 round; but they most usually begin to pair 
 in April, and to breed in June and August. 
 Those are said to be the best breeders that 
 are produced between the English and the 
 French. 
 
 Towards the latter end of March, a cock 
 arid a hen should be put together in a small 
 cage, where they will peck at each other in 
 the beginning, but will soon become thorough- 
 ly reconciled. The room where they are 
 kept to breed should be so situated as to let 
 the birds have the benefit of the morning sun, 
 and the windows should be of wire, not glass, 
 that they may enjoy the benefit of the air. 
 The floor of the room should be kept clean, 
 and sometimes there should be dry gravel or 
 sand sifted upon it. There should also be 
 two windows, one at each end, and several 
 perches at proper distances for the birds to 
 settle on, as they fly backwards and forwards. 
 A tree in the middle of the room would be 
 the most convenient to divert the birds, and 
 sometimes to serve for building their nests 
 upon. 
 
 In Germany they prepare a large room, and 
 build it in the manner of a barn, being much 
 longer than broad, with a square place at 
 each end, and several holes to go into those 
 square places. In those outlets they plant 
 several sorts of trees, in which the birds take 
 great delight to sing and breed. The bot- 
 tom of the place they strew with sand, and 
 upon it cast rape-seed, chick-weed, and 
 
 groundsel, which the old birds feed upon 
 while breeding. In the body of the house 
 they put all sorts of stuff for building the nest, 
 and brooms, one under the other, in all the 
 corners, for the birds to build in. These 
 they separate by partitions from each other, 
 to prevent those above flying down upon, or 
 otherwise incommoding, such as breed below. 
 The light also is excluded, for no bird is fond 
 of having light come to its nest. 
 
 With us the apparatus for breeding is less 
 expensive; a little breeding-cage sometimes 
 suffices, but seldom any thing more extensive 
 than a small room. While the birds are 
 pairing, it is usual to feed them with soft meat; 
 that is, bread, maw-seed, a little scalded rape- 
 seed, and near a third part of an egg. The 
 room should be furnished with stuff for ma- 
 king their nests; such as fine hay, wool, cot- 
 ton, and hair. These materials should be 
 thoroughly dry, and then mixed and tied to- 
 gether in such a manner that the birds may 
 readily pull out what they want. This should 
 be hung in a proper part of the room, and 
 the male will take his turn in building the 
 nest, sitting upon the eggs, and feeding the 
 young. They are generally two or three 
 days in building their nests; the hen com- 
 monly lays five eggs ; and in the space of 
 fourteen days the young will be excluded. 
 So prolific are these birds sometimes, that 
 the female will be ready to hatch a second 
 brood before the first are able to quit the 
 nest. On these occasions she leaves the nest 
 and the young, to provide herself with ano- 
 ther to lay her new brood in. In the mean 
 time the male, more faithful to the duties of 
 his trust, breeds up the young left behind, 
 and fits them for a state of independence. 
 
 When the young ones are excluded, the 
 old ones should be supplied with a sufficien- 
 cy of soft food every day, with likewise fresh 
 greens, such as cabbage, lettuce, and chick- 
 weed; in June, shepherd's purse; and in 
 July and August, plantain. They are never 
 to have groundsel after the young are exclu- 
 ded. With these different delicacies the old 
 ones will take particular care to feed and 
 bring up their young ; but it is usual when 
 they can feed themselves, to be taken from 
 the nest and put into cages. Their meat 
 then is the yolk of an egg boiled hard, with 
 
546 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 an equal quantity of fine bread, and a little 
 scalded rape-seed : this must be bruised till it 
 becomes fine, and then it may be mixed with 
 a little maw-seed ; after which blend all to- 
 gether; which is to be supplied them fresh 
 every day. 
 
 The canary-bird, by being kept in company 
 with the linnet or the gold-finch, pairs and 
 produces a mixed breed, more like the canary- 
 bird, and resembling it chiefly in its song. 
 Indeed, all this tribe with strong bills and 
 piercing notes, and feeding upon grain, have 
 the most strong similitude to each other, and 
 may justly be supposed, as Mr. Buffon imagines, 
 to come from the same original. They all 
 
 breed about the same time ; they frequent the 
 same vegetables; they build in tlic same 
 hedges and trees ; and are brought up for the 
 cage with the same food ud \n\ cautions. 
 The linnet, the bull-finch, and the gold-finch, 
 whcu we know the history of the canary-bird, 
 have scarcely any peculiarities that can attract 
 our curiosity, or require our care. The only 
 art necessary with all those that have no very 
 fine note, is to breed them up under some 
 more pleasing harmonist. The gold-finch 
 learns a fine song from the nightingale ; and 
 the linnet and bull-finch may be taught, for- 
 getting the wild notes of nature, to. whistle a 
 long and regular tune. 
 
 CHAPTER CX. 
 
 OF THE SWALLOW, AND ITS AFFINITIES. 
 
 AN idea of any one bird in the former classes 
 will give us some tolerable conception of the 
 rest. By knowing the linnet or the canary- 
 bird, we have some notion of the manners of 
 the gold-finch; by exhibiting the history of 
 the nightingale, we see also that of the black- 
 cap or the tit-mouse. But the swallow tribe 
 seems to be entirely different from all the for- 
 mer ; different in their form, different in their 
 habits, and unlike in all the particulars of their 
 history. 
 
 In this tribe is to be found the Goat-sucker, 
 which may be styled a nocturnal swallow ; it 
 is the largest of this kind, and is known by its 
 tail, which is not forked, like that of the com- 
 mon swallow. It begins its flight at evening, 
 and makes a loud singular noise, like the whur 
 of a spinning- wheel. To this also belongs the 
 House-swallow, which is too well known to 
 need a description : the Martin, inferior in size 
 to the former, and the tail much less forked ; 
 it differs also in its nest, which is covered at 
 top, while that of the house-swallow is open : 
 and the Swift, rather larger than the house- 
 swallow,' with all the toes standing forward ; 
 in which it differs from the rest of its kind. 
 All these resemble each other so strongly, that 
 it is not without difficulty the smaller kinds are 
 known asunder. 
 
 These are all known by their very large 
 mouths, which, when they fly, are always kept 
 open ; they are not less remarkable for their 
 short slender fret, which scarcely are able to 
 support the weight of their bodies ; their wings 
 are of immoderate extent for their bulk ; their 
 plumage is glossed with a rich purple ; and 
 their note is a slight twittering, which they 
 seldom exert but upon the wing. This peculiar 
 conformation seems attended with a similar 
 peculiarity of manners. Their food is insects, 
 which they always pursue flying. For this 
 reason, during fine weather, when the insects 
 are most likely to be abroad, the swallows are 
 for ever upon the wing, an < seem pursu'ng their 
 prey with amazing swiftness and agility. AH 
 smaller animals, in some measure, find safety 
 by winding and turning, when they endeavour 
 to avoid the greater: the lark thus evades the 
 pursuit of the hawk, and mau the crocodile. 
 In this manner, insects upon the wing en- 
 deavour to avoid the swallow ; but this bird is 
 admirably fitted by nature to pursue them 
 through their shortest tmninas. Besides a 
 great length of wing, it is also provided with 
 a long tail, which, like a rudder, turns it in its 
 most rapid motions ; anil thus, while it is pos- 
 sessed of the greatest swiftness, it is also pos- 
 sessed of the most extreme agility. 
 
THE SPARROW KIND. 
 
 547 
 
 Early, therefore, in the spring, when the re- 
 ;urning sun begins to rouse the insect tribe 
 from their annual state of torpidity ; when the 
 gnat and the beetle put off their earthly robes, 
 and venture into air ; the swallow then is seen 
 returning from its long migration beyond the 
 ocean, and making its way feebly to the shore. 
 At first, with the timidity of a stranger, it ap- 
 pears but seldom, and flies but slowly and 
 heavily along. As the weather grows warmer, 
 and its insect supply increases, it then gathers 
 greater strength and activity. But it some- 
 times happens that a rainy season, by repelling 
 the insects, stints the swallow in its food ; the 
 poor bird is then seen slowly skimming along 
 the surface of the ground, and ofh n resting 
 after a flight of a few minutes. In general, 
 however, it keeps on the wing, and moving 
 with a rapidity that nothing can escape. 
 When the weather promises to be fair, the in- 
 sect tribe feel the geni il influence, and make 
 bolder flights ; at which time the swallow 
 follows them in their aerial journeys, and often 
 rises to imperceptible heights in the pursuit. 
 When the weather is likely to be foul, the in- 
 sects feel thn first notices of it ; and from the 
 swallow's following low we are often apprized 
 of the approaching change. 
 
 When summer is fairly begun, and more 
 than a sufficient supply for sustaining the wants 
 of nature every where offers, the swallow then 
 begins to think of forming a progeny. The 
 nest is built with great industry and art, par- 
 ticularly by the common swallow, which 
 builds it on the tops of chimneys. The mar- 
 tin sticks it to the eaves of houses. The goat- 
 sucker, as we are" told, builds it on the bare 
 ground. This nest is built with mud from 
 some neighbouring brook, well tempered with 
 the bill, moistened with water, for the better 
 adhesion ; and still farther kept firm, by long 
 grass and fibres : within it is lined with goose 
 feathers, which are ever the wannest and the 
 neatest. The martin covers its nest at top, 
 
 a Sir George Staunton,in his account of the embassy to 
 China, says, that in the Cass, a small island near Sumatra, 
 were foi^itl two caverns, running horizontally into the side 
 of the ruck ; in which were a number of these nests so 
 much prized by the Chinese epicures. " They seemed 
 to be composed of fine filaments cemented together by a 
 transparent viscous matter, not unlike what is left by the 
 foam of the sea, or those gelatinous animal substances 
 found floating on every coast. The nests adhere together f 
 
 NO. 47 & 48. 
 
 and has a door to enter at ; the swallow leaves 
 her's quite open. But our European nests are 
 nothing to be compared with those the swal- 
 low builds on the coasts of China and Coro- 
 mandel ; the description of which I will give 
 in the plain honest phrase of Willoughby. 
 " On the sea-coast of the kingdom of China," 
 says he, "a sort of party-coloured birds, of the 
 shape of swallows, at a certain season of the 
 year, which is their breeding time, come out 
 of the midland country to the rocks, and from 
 the foam or froth of the sea-water, dashing 
 against the bottom of the rocks, gather a cer- 
 tain clammy glutinous matter, perchance the 
 spawn of whales and other young fishes, of 
 which they build their nests, wherein they lay 
 their eggs and hatch their young. These nests 
 the Chinese pluck from the rocks, and bring 
 them in great numbers into the East Indies to 
 sell. They are esteemed, by gluttons, as great 
 delicacies ; who, dissolving them in chicken 
 or mutton broth, are very fond of them ; far 
 before oysters, mushrooms, or other dainty 
 and liquorish morsels." a What a pity this 
 luxury hath not been introduced among us, 
 and then our great feasters might be enabled 
 to eat a little more ! 
 
 The swallow usually lays from five to six 
 eggs, of a white colour, speckled with red ; 
 and sometimes breeds twice a year. When 
 the young brood are excluded, the swallow 
 supplies them very plentifully, the first brood 
 particularly, when she finds herself capable of 
 producing two broods in a year. This hap- 
 pens when the parents come early, when the 
 season is peculiarly mild, and when they be- 
 
 fin to pair soon. Sometimes they find n dif- 
 culty in rearing even a single nest, particularly 
 when the weather has been severe, or their 
 nests have been robbed in the beginning of the 
 season. By these accidents, this important 
 task is sometimes deferred to the middle of 
 September. 
 
 At the latter end of September, they leave 
 
 and to the sides of the cavern, mostly in rows without any 
 break or interruption. The birds that build these nests 
 are small gray swallows, with bellies of a dirty white. 
 These nests are a considerable object of traffic among 
 the Javanese, many of whom are employed in it from 
 their infancy ; and as the operation of taking them is at- 
 tended with much danger, many lives are lost in that 
 employment. 
 
 4K 
 
548 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 us ; and for a few days previous to their de- 
 parture asse.nble in vast flocks, on house tops, 
 as if deliberating on the fatiguing journey that 
 lay before them. This is no slight under- 
 taking, as their flight is directed to Congo, 
 Senegal, and along the whole Morocco shoiv. 
 There are some, however, left behind in this 
 general expedition, that do not depart till eight 
 or ten days after the rest. These are chiefly 
 the latter weakly broods, which are not yet in 
 a condition to set out. They are sometimes 
 even too feeble to venture, till the selling in of 
 winter ; while their parents vainly exhort 
 them to efforts which instinct assures them 
 they are incapable of performing. Thus it 
 often happens, that the wretched little families, 
 being compelled to stay, perish the first cold 
 weather that comes; whil-the tender parents 
 share the fate of their offspring, and die with 
 the new-fledged brood. 
 
 Those that migrate, are first observed to 
 arrive in Africa, as Adanson assures us, about 
 the beginning of October. They are thought 
 to have performed their fatiguing journey in 
 the space of seven davs. They are sometimes 
 seen, when interrupted by contrary winds, 
 wavering in their course far off at sea, and 
 lighting upon whatever ship they find in their 
 passage. They then seem spent with famine 
 and fatigue ; yet still they boldly venture, 
 when refreshed by a few hours rest, to renew 
 their flight, and continue the course which 
 they had been steering before. 
 
 These are facts, proved by incontestable au- 
 thority; yet it is a doubt whether all swallows 
 migrate in this manner, or whether there may 
 not be some species of this animal that, though 
 
 externally alike, are so internally different, as 
 to be very differently affected by the approach 
 of winter. We are assured from many, and 
 these not contemptible witnesses, that swal- 
 lows hide themselves in holes under ground, 
 joined close together, bill against bill, and feet 
 against feet. feo:iie inform us, that they have 
 seen them taken out of the water, and even 
 from under the ice, in bunches, where they 
 are asserted to pass the winter, without motion. 
 Reaumur, who particularly interested himself 
 in this inquiry, received several accounts of 
 bundles of swallows being thus found in quar- 
 ries, and under the water. These men, there- 
 fore, have a right to some degree of assent, 
 and are not to lose all credit from our igno- 
 rance of what they aver. 
 
 All, however, that we have hitherto dissected, 
 are formed within like other birds ; and seem 
 to offer no observable variety. Indeed, that 
 they do not hide themselves under water, has 
 been pretty well proved, by the noted experi- 
 ment of Frisch, who tied several threads, dyed 
 in water-colours, round the legs of a great 
 number of swallows that were preparing for 
 their departure : these, upon their return the 
 ensuing summer, brought their threads back 
 with them, no way damaged in their colour ; 
 which they most certainly would, if, during 
 the winter, they had been steeped in water : 
 yet still this is a subject on which we must 
 suspend our assent, as Klein, the naturalist, 
 has brought such a number of proofs in de- 
 fence of his opinion, that swallows are tor- 
 pid in winter, as even the most incredu- 
 lous must allow to have some degree of proba- 
 bility. 
 
 CHAPTER CXI. 
 
 THE HUMMING-BIRD, AND ITS VARIETIES. 
 
 HAVING given some history of the man- 
 ners of the most remarkable birds of which 
 accounts can be obtained, I might now go to 
 a very extensive tribe, remarkable for the 
 splendour and the variety of their plumage : 
 but the description of the colours of a beauti- 
 ful bird, has nothing in it that can inform or 
 
 entertain; it rather exntes a longing, which 
 it is impossible for words to satisfy . Natural- 
 ists, indeed, have endeavoured to satisfy this 
 desire by coloured prints ; but, beside that 
 these at best give only a faint resemblance of 
 nature, and arc a very indifferent kind of 
 painting, the bird itself has a thousand beauties, 
 
il nil, I i..\l.ni 
 "/,- 
 
 IIAI.'I I Mlllll. 
 
 P0ITTAC I s fit IKT \rr * 
 
 l'i ,-.,.! ' f , >/,,/ i ',<-/.-, ,t..,- 
 
 4 
 
 
THE SPARROW KIND. 
 
 549 
 
 that the most exquisite artist is incapable of 
 imitating. They, for instance, who imagine 
 they have a complete idea of the beauty of 
 the little tribe of manikin birds, from the pic- 
 tures we have of them, will find themselves 
 deceived, when they compare their draughts 
 with nature. The shining greens, the change- 
 able purples, arid the glossy reds, are be- 
 yond the reach of the pencil; and very far 
 beyond the coloured print, which is but a 
 poor substitute to painting. I have there- 
 fore declined entering into a minute descrip- 
 tion of foreign birds of the sparrow kind; 
 as sounds would never convey an adequate 
 idea of colours. 
 
 There is one species, however, that I will 
 conclude the history of this class with; as, 
 though the least, it will certainly be allowed 
 the most beautiful of all others. In quadru- 
 peds, the smallest animals are noxious, ugly, 
 and loathsome ; the smallest of birds are the 
 most beautiful, innocent, and sportive. Of all 
 those that flutter in the garden, or paint the 
 landscape, the humming-bird is the most de- 
 lightful to look upon, and the most inoffen- 
 sive. 
 
 Of this charming little animal, there are 
 six or seven varieties, from the size of a small 
 wren, down to that of an humble-bee. An Eu- 
 ropean could never have supposed a bird ex- 
 is'i.'ig so very small, and yet completely fur- 
 nished out with a bill, feathers, wings, and in- 
 testines, exactly resembling those of the lar- 
 gest kind. A bird not so big as the end of 
 one's little finger, would probably be supposed 
 but a creature of imagination, were it not seen 
 in infinite numbers, and as frequent as butter- 
 flies in a summer's day, sporting in the fields 
 of America, from flower to flower, and ex- 
 tracting their sweets with its little bill. 
 
 The smallest humming-bird is about the 
 size of a hazel-nut. The feathers on its wings 
 and tail are black ; but those on its body, and 
 under its wings, are of a greenish brown, 
 with a fine red cast, or gloss, which no silk 
 or velvet can imitate. It has a small crest 
 on its head, green at the bottom, and, 
 as it were, gilded at the top; and which 
 sparkles in the sun like a little star in the 
 middle of its forehead. The bill is black, 
 straight, slender, and of the length of a small 
 pin. The larger humming-bird is near half 
 
 as big as the common wren, and without a 
 crest on its head ; but, to make amends, it is 
 covered, from the throat half way down the 
 belly, with changeable crimson-coloured fea- 
 thers, that, in different lights, change to a 
 variety of heautiful colours, much like an 
 opal. The heads of both are small, with very 
 little round eyes, as black as jet. 
 
 It is inconceivable how much these add to 
 the high finishing and beauty of a rich luxu- 
 rious western landscape. As soon as the 
 sun is risen, the humming-birds, of different 
 kinds, are seen fluttering about the flowers, 
 without ever lighting upon them. Their 
 wings are in such rapid motion, that it is im- 
 possible to discern their colours, except by 
 their glittering. They are never still, but 
 continually in motion, visiting flower after 
 flower, and extracting its honey as if with a 
 kiss. For this purpose they are furnished 
 with a forky tongue, that enters the cup of 
 the flower, and extracts its nectared tribute. 
 Upon this alone they subsist. The rapid mo- 
 tion of their wings brings out a humming 
 sound, from whence they have their name; 
 for whatever divides the air swiftly, must 
 thus produce a murmur. 
 
 The nests of these birds are not less curi- 
 ous than the rest ; they are suspended in the 
 air, at the point of the twigs of an orange, a 
 pomegranate, or a citron-tree ; sometimes 
 even in houses, if they find a small and con- 
 venient twig for the purpose. The female is 
 the architect, while the male goes in quest of 
 materials; such as cotton, fine moss, and the 
 fibres of vegetables. Of these materials a 
 nest is composed, of about the size of a hen's 
 egg cut in two, admirably contrived, and 
 warmly lined with cotton. They lay two 
 eggs at a time, and never more, about the 
 size of small peas, and as white as snow, with 
 here and there a yellow speck. The male 
 and the female sit upon the nest by turns; 
 but the female takes to herself the greatest 
 share. She seldom quits the nest, except a 
 few minutes in the morning and evening, 
 when the dew is upon the flowers, and their 
 honey in perfection. During this short in- 
 terval, the male takes her place ; for, as the 
 egg is so small, the exposing it ever so short 
 a time to the weather, would be apt to injure 
 its contents, the surface exposed being so 
 
 4K* 
 
550 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 great in comparison to the bulk. The time 
 of incubation continues twelve days ; at the 
 end of which the young ones appear, much 
 about the size of a blue-bottle fly. They are 
 at first bare ; by degrees they are covered 
 with down ; and, at last, feathers succeed, but 
 less beautiful at first than those of the old ones. 
 
 " Father Labat's companion in the mission 
 to America, found the nest of a humming- 
 bird, in a shed that was near the dwelling- 
 house, and took it in at a time when the young 
 ones were about fifteen or twenty days old ; 
 he then placed them in a cage at his cham- 
 ber-window, to be amused by their sportive 
 flutterings; but he was soon surprised to see 
 the old ones, that came and fed their brood 
 regularly every hour in the day. By these 
 means they themselves soon grew so tame 
 that they seldom quitted the chamber; but, 
 without any constraint, came to live with 
 their young ones. All four have frequently 
 come to perch upon their master's hand, chir- 
 ruping as if they had been at liberty abroad. 
 He fed them with a very fine clear paste, 
 made of wine, biscuit, and sugar: they thrust 
 their tongues into this paste, till they were 
 satisfied, and then fluttered and chirruped 
 about the room. I never beheld any thing 
 more agreeable," continues he, " than this 
 lovely little family that had taken possession 
 of my companion's chamber, and that flew 
 out and in just as they thought proper; but 
 were ever attentive to the voice of their mas- 
 ter, when he called them. In this manner 
 they lived with him for above six months ; 
 but at a time when he expected to see a new 
 colony formed, he unfortunately forgot to tie 
 up their cage to the ceiling at night, to pre- 
 serve them from the rats, and he found they 
 were devoured in the morning." 
 
 These birds, on the continent of America, 
 continue to flutter the year round ; as their 
 food, which is the honey of flowers, never for- 
 sakes them in those warm latitudes where 
 they are found. But it is otherwise in the 
 islands of the Antilles, where, when the win- 
 ter season approaches, they retire, and, as 
 
 some say, continue in a torpid state during 
 the severity of that season. At Surinam and 
 Jamaica, where they constantly have flowers, 
 these beautiful birds are never known to dis- 
 appear. 
 
 It is a doubt whether or not these birds 
 have a continued note of singing. All travel- 
 lers agree, that, beside the humming, noise 
 produced by their wings, they have a little 
 interrupted chirrup; but Labat asserts, that 
 they have a most pleasing n\elancholy melo- 
 dy in their voices, though small, and propor- 
 tioned to the organs which produce it. It is 
 very probable that, in different places, their 
 notes are also different ; and as there are 
 some that continue torpid all the winter, 
 there may likewise be some with agreeable 
 voices, though the rest may in general be si- 
 lent. 
 
 The Indians formerly made great use of 
 this pretty bird's plumage, in adorning their 
 belts and head-dress. The children take 
 them in the fields upon rings smeared with 
 bird-lime: they approach the place where 
 the birds are flying, arid twirling their rings 
 in the air, so allure them, either by the colour 
 or the sound, that the simple little creature 
 comes to rest upon the ring, and is seized. 
 They are then instantly killed and gutted, 
 and hung up in the chimney to dry. Those 
 who take greater care, dry them in a stove, 
 which is not so likely to injure the plumage 
 as the foregoing method. Their beautiful 
 feathers were once the ornament of the high- 
 est rank of savage nobility : but at present 
 they take the bird rather for the purpose of 
 selling it as a curiosity to the Europeans, than 
 that of ornament for themselves. All the 
 taste for savage finery is wearing out fast, 
 even among the Americans. They now be- 
 gin to adopt, if not the dresses of Europe, at 
 least the materials of which they are com- 
 posed. The wandering warrior is far from 
 thinking himself fine at present with his bow 
 and his feathered crown : his ambition reach- 
 es to higher ornaments; a gun, a blue shirt, 
 and a blanket. 
 
THE CRANE KIND. 
 
 551 
 
 OF BIRDS OF TI2B CRANE ZIZBTD. 
 
 
 CHAPTER CX1I. 
 
 OF BIRDS OF THE CRANE KIND IN GENERAL 
 
 THE progressions of nature from one class 
 of beings to another, are always by slow and 
 almost imperceptible degrees. She has peo- 
 pled the woods and the fields with a variety of 
 the most beautiful birds ; and, to leave no 
 part of her extensive territories un tenanted, 
 she has stocked the waters with its feathered 
 inhabitants also : she has taken the same care 
 in providing for the wants of her animals in 
 this clement, as she has done with respect to 
 those of the other ; she has used as much pre- 
 caution to render water-fowl fit for swimming, 
 as she did in forming land-fowl for flight ; she 
 has defended their fealhers with a natural oil, 
 and united their toes by a webbed membrane; 
 by which contrivances they have at once 
 security and motion. But between the classes 
 of land-birds that shun the water, and of water- 
 fowl that arc made for swimming and living 
 on it, she has formed a very numerous tribe of 
 birds, that seem to partake of a middle nature ; 
 that, with divided toes, seemingly fitted to 
 live upon land, are at the same time furnished 
 with appetites that chiefly attach them to the 
 waters. These can properly be called neither 
 land -birds nor water-fowl, as they provide all 
 their sustenance from watery places, and yet 
 are unqualified to seek it in those depths where 
 it is often found in greatest plenty. 
 
 This class of birds, of the crane kind, are 
 to be distinguished from others rather by their 
 appetites than their conformation. Yet even 
 in this respect they seem to be sufficiently dis- 
 criminated by nature : as they are to live 
 among the waters, yet are incapable of swim- 
 ming in them, most of them have long legs, 
 fit;"(i for wading in shallow waters, or long 
 bills proper for groping in them. 
 
 Every bird of this kind, habituated to marshy 
 places, may be known, if not by the length of 
 its legs, at least by the scaly surface of them. 
 Those who have observed the legs of a snipe 
 or a woodcock, will easily perceive my mean- 
 ing; and how different the surface of the skin 
 that covers them is from that of the pigeon or 
 the partridge. Most birds of this kind also, 
 are bare of feathers half way up the thigh ; at 
 least, in all of them, above the knee. Their 
 long habits of wading in the waters, and hav- 
 ing their legs continually in moisture, prevents 
 the growtli of fealhers on those parts ; so that 
 there is a surprising difference between the leg 
 of a crane, naked of feathers almost up to the 
 body, and the falcon, booted almost to the very 
 toes. 
 
 The bill also is very distinguishable in most 
 of this class. It is, in general, longer than that 
 of other birds, and in some finely fluted on 
 every side ; while at the point it is possessed 
 of extreme sensibility, and furnished with 
 nerves, for the better feeling their food at the 
 bottom of marshes, where it cannot be seen. 
 Some birds of this class are thus fitted with 
 every convenience : they have long legs, for 
 wading; long necks, for stooping; long bills, 
 for searching ; and nervous points, for feeling. 
 Others are not so amply provided for ; as 
 some have long bills, but legs of HO great 
 length ; and others have long necks, but very 
 short legs. It is a rule which universally 
 holds, that where the bird's legs are long, (he 
 neck is also long in proportion. It would in- 
 deed be an incurable defect in the bird's con- 
 formation, to be lifted upon stilts above its 
 food, without being furnished with an instru- 
 ment to reach it. 
 
552 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 If we consider the natural power of this 
 class, in a comparative view, they will seem 
 rather inferior to those of every other tribe. 
 Their nests are more simple than those of the 
 sparrow ; and their methods of obtaining food 
 less ingenious than those of the falcon ; the pie 
 exceeds them in cunning; and though they 
 have all the voraciousness of the poultry tribe, 
 they want their fecundity. None of this kind, 
 therefore, have been taken into man's society, 
 or under his protection; they are neither caged, 
 like the nightingale ; nor kept tame, like the 
 turkey ; but lead a life of precarious liberty, in 
 fens and marshes, at the edges of lakes, and 
 along the sea-shore. They all live upon fish 
 or insects, one or two only excepted ; even 
 those that are called mudsuckers, such as the 
 snipe and the woodcock, it is more than pro- 
 bable, grope the bottom of marshy places only 
 for such insects as are deposited there by their 
 kind, and live in a vermicular state, in pools 
 and plashes, till they take wing, and become 
 flying insects. 
 
 All this class, therefore, that are fed upon 
 insects, their food b ing easily digestible, are 
 good to be eaten ; while those who live en- 
 tirely upon fish, abounding in oil, acquire in 
 their flesh the rancidity of their diet, and are, 
 in general, unfit for our tables. To savages, 
 indeed, and sailors on a long voyage, every 
 thing that has life seems good to be eaten ; 
 
 and we often find them recommending those 
 animals as dainties, which they themselves 
 would spurn at after a course of good living. 
 Nothing is more common in their journals 
 
 than such accounts as these " This d<iy we 
 
 shot a fox pretty good eating: this day we 
 shot a heron pretty good eating : and this 
 
 day we killed a turtle" which they rai.k 
 
 with the heron and the fox, as " pretty good 
 eating." Their accounts, therefore, of the 
 flesh of these birds, are not to be depended 
 upon ; and when they cry up the heron 
 or the stork of other countries as luxuri- 
 ous food, we must always attend to the 
 state of their appetites who give the charao 
 ter. 
 
 In treating of this ? lass of birds, it will be 
 best to observe the simplest method possible ; 
 neither to load the memory with numerous 
 distinctions, nor yet confuse the imagination 
 by a total want of arrangement. 1 will there- 
 fore describe some of the larger sorts sepa- 
 rately ; as, in a history of birds, each of these 
 demands peculiar distinction. The crane, the 
 stork, the Balearic crane, the heron, the bit- 
 tern, with some others, may require a separate 
 history. Some particular tribes may next 
 oflfer, that may very naturally be classed to- 
 gether ; and as for all the smaller and least 
 remarkable sorts, they may be grouped into 
 one general description. 
 
 CHAPTER CX1II. 
 
 THE CRANE. 
 
 THERE is something extraordinary in the 
 different accounts we have of this bird's size 
 and dimensions. Willoughby and Pennant 
 make the crane from five to six feet long, from 
 the tip to the tail. Other accounts say, that 
 it is above five feet high ; and others, that it 
 is as tall as a man. From the many which I 
 myself had seen, I own this imputed magni- 
 tude surprised me ; as, from memory I was 
 convinced, they could be neither so long nor 
 so tall. Indeed, a bird, the body of which is 
 not larger than that of a turkey-hen, and ac- 
 knowledged on all hands not to weigh above 
 
 ten pounds, cannot easily be supposed to be 
 almost as long as an ostrich. Brisson, how- 
 ever, seems to "five this bird its real dimensions, 
 when he describes it as something less than 
 the brown stork, about three feet high, and 
 about four from the tip to the tail. Still, how- 
 ever, the numerous testimonies of its superior 
 size are not to be totally rejected ; and, per- 
 haps, that from which Brisson took his dimen- 
 sions, was one of the smallest uf the kind. 
 
 The crane, taking its dimensions from him, 
 is exactly three feet four inches from the tip to 
 the tail, and four feet from the head to the toe. 
 
THE CRANE KIND. 
 
 553 
 
 It is a tall slender bird, with a long neck and 
 long legs. The top of the head is covered 
 with black bristles, and the back of it is bald 
 and red, which sufficiently distinguishes this 
 bird from the stork, to which it is very near- 
 ly allied in size and figure. The plumage, 
 in general, is ash-coloured; and there are 
 two large tufts of feathers, that spring from 
 the pinion of each wing. These bear a re- 
 semblance to hair, and are finely curled at 
 the ends, which the bird has a power of erect- 
 ing and depressing at pleasure. Gesner 
 says, that these feathers, in his time, used to 
 be set in gold, and worn as ornaments in 
 caps. 
 
 Such are the dimensions of a bird, con- 
 cerning which, not to mention modern times, 
 there have been more fables propagated than 
 of any other. It is a bird with which all the 
 ancient writers are familiar; and, in descri- 
 bing it, they have not failed to mix imagina- 
 tion with history. From the policy of the 
 cranes, they say, we are to look for an idea 
 of the most perfect republic amongst our- 
 selves; from their tenderness to their decre- 
 pit parents, which they take care to nourish, 
 to cherish, and support when flying, we are 
 to learn lessons of filial piety ; but particular- 
 ly from their conduct in fighting with the pig- 
 mies of Ethiopia, we are to receive our max- 
 ims in the art of war. In early times, the 
 history of nature fell to the lot of poets only, 
 and certainly none could describe it so well; 
 but it is a part of their province to embellish 
 also ; and when this agreeable science was 
 claimed by a more sober class of people, 
 they were obliged to take the accounts of 
 things as they found them ; and, in the pre- 
 sent instance, fable ran down blended with 
 truth to posterity. 
 
 In these accounts, therefore, there is some 
 foundation of truth ; yet much more has been 
 added by fancy. The crane is certainly a 
 very social bird, arid they are seldom seen 
 alone. Their usual method of flying or sit- 
 ting is in flocks of fifty or sixty together; and 
 while a part feed, the rest stand like centi- 
 nr>!s upon duty. The fable of their support- 
 ing I.Ueir aged parents, may have arisen from 
 their strict connubial affection; and as for 
 their fighting with tho pigmies, it may not be 
 improbable but that they have boldly withstood 
 
 the invasions of monkeys coming to rob their 
 nests; for, in this case, as the crane lives 
 upon vegetables, it is not probable that it 
 would be the first aggressor. 
 
 However this be, the crane is a wandering, 
 sociable bird, that, for the most part, subsists 
 upon vegetables; and is known in every coun- 
 try of Europe, except our own. There is no 
 part of the world, says Bellonius, where the 
 fields are cultivated, that the crane does not 
 come in with the husbandman for a share in 
 the harvest. As they are birds of passage, 
 they are seen to depart, and return regularly 
 at those seasons when their provision invites 
 or repels them. They generally leave Eu- 
 rope about the latter end of autumn, and re- 
 turn in the beginning of summer. In the in- 
 land parts of the continent, they are seen 
 crossing the country in flocks of fifty or a hun- 
 dred, making from the northern regions to- 
 wards the south. In these migrations, how- 
 ever, they are not so resolutely bent upon 
 going forward, but that if a field of corn of- 
 fers in their way, they will stop a while to 
 regale upon it: on such occasions they do 
 incredible damage, chiefly in the night; and 
 the husbandman, who lays down in joyful ex- 
 pectation, rises in the morning to see his 
 fields laid entirely waste by an enemy, whose 
 march is too swift for his vengeance to over- 
 take. 
 
 Our own country is free from their visits ; 
 not but that they were formerly known in 
 this island, and held in great estimation for 
 the delicacy of their flesh; there was even a 
 penalty upon such as destroyed their eggs ; 
 but, at present, they never go so far out of 
 their way. Cultivation and populousness go 
 hand in hand ; and though our fields may of- 
 fer them a greater plenty, yet it is so guard- 
 ed that the birds find the venture greater than 
 the enjoyment; and probably we are much 
 better off by their absence than their com- 
 pany. Whatever their flesh might once have 
 been, when, as Plutarch tells us. cranes were 
 blinded and kept in coops, to be fattened for 
 the tables of the great in Rome; or, as they 
 were brought up. stuffed with mint and rue, 
 to the tables of our nobles at home; at pre- 
 sent, they are considered all over Europe as 
 wretched eating. The flesh is fibrous and 
 dry, requiring much preparation to make it 
 
o.ri 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 palatable ; and even after every art, it is fit 
 only for the stomachs of strong and labour- 
 ing people. 
 
 The cold Arctic regionseemstobethis bird's 
 favourite abode. They come down into the 
 more southern parts of Europe, rather as vi- 
 sitants than inhabitants: yet it is not well 
 known in what manner they portion out their 
 time, to the different parts of the world. The 
 migrations of the fieldfare or thrush, are ob- 
 vious and well known ; they go northward or 
 southward, in one simple track; when their 
 food fails them here, they have but one re- 
 gion to go to. But it is otherwise with the 
 crane; fie changes place, like a wanderer: 
 he spends the autumn in Europe ; he then 
 flies off, probably to some more southern cli- 
 mate, to enjoy a part of the winter ; returns 
 to Europe in the spring; crosses up to the 
 north in summer ; visits those lakes that are ne- 
 ver dry ; and then comes down again, to make 
 depredations upon our cultivated grounds, 
 in autumn. Thus, Gesner assures us, that 
 the cranes usually begin to quit Germany, 
 from about the eleventh of September to the 
 seventeenth of October; from thence they are 
 seen flying southward by thousands; and 
 Redi tells us, they arrive in Tuscany a short 
 time after. There they tear up the fields, 
 newly sown, for the grain just committed to 
 the ground, and do great mischief. It is to 
 be supposed that, in the severity of winter, 
 they go southward, still nearer the line. 
 They again appear in the fields of Pisa, re- 
 gularly about the twentieth of February, to 
 anticipate the spring. 
 
 In these journeys, it is amazing to conceive 
 the heights to which they ascend when they 
 fly. Their note is the loudest of all other 
 birds ; and that is often heard in the clouds, 
 when the bird itself is entirely unseen. As 
 it is light for its size, and spreads a large ex- 
 panse of wing, it is capable of floating at the 
 greatest height, where the air is lightest; and 
 as it secures its safety, and is entirely out of 
 the reach of man, it flies in tracts which 
 would be too fatiguing for any other birds to 
 move forward in. 
 
 In these aerial journeys, though unseen 
 themselves, they have the distinctest vision 
 of every object below. They govern and di- 
 rect their flight by their cries ; and exhort 
 
 each other to proceed or to descend, when 
 a fit opportunity offers for depredation. Their 
 voice, as was observed, is the loudest of all 
 the feathered tribe; and its peculiar clangor 
 arises from the very extraordinary length and 
 contortion of the windpipe. In quadrupeds, 
 the windpipe is short, and the glottis, or car- 
 tilages that form the voice, are at that end of 
 it which is next the mouth; in water-fowl, 
 the windpipe is longer, but the cartilages 
 that form the voice are at the other end, 
 which lies down in their belly. By this 
 means they have much louder voices, in pro- 
 portion to their size, than any other animal 
 whatever; for the note when formed below, 
 is reverberated through all the rings of the 
 windpipe, till it reaches the air. But the 
 voice of the duck or the goose, is nothing to 
 be compared to that of the crane, whose 
 windpipe is not only made in the same man- 
 ner with theirs, but is above twenty times as 
 long. Nature seems to have bestowed much 
 pains in lengthening out this organ. From 
 the outside, it enters through the flesh into 
 the breast-bone, which hath a great cavity 
 within to receive it. There being thrice re- 
 flected, it goes out again at the same hole, 
 and so turns down to the lungs, and thus en- 
 ters the body a second time. The loud clan- 
 gorous sound which the bird is thus enabled 
 to produce, is, when near, almost deafening : 
 however, it is particularly serviceable to the 
 animal itself, either during its migrations, or 
 its stay ; by it the flock is encouraged in their 
 journeys ; and if, while they are feeding, 
 which is usually performed in profound si- 
 lence, they are invaded on any side, the bird 
 that first perceives the danger is sure to sound 
 the alarm, and all are speedily upon the wing. 
 As they rise but heavily, they are very shy 
 birds, arid seldom let the fowler approach 
 them. Their depredations are usually made 
 in the darkest nights ; at which time they 
 enter a field of corn, and trample it down, as 
 if it had been crossed over by a regiment of 
 soldiers. On other occasions, they choose 
 some extensive solitary marsh, where they 
 range themselves all day, as W they were in 
 deliberation ; and not having that grain which 
 is most to their appetites, wade the marshes 
 for insects and other food, which they can 
 procure with less danger. 
 
THE CRANE KIND. 
 
 555 
 
 Corn is their favourite food ; but there is 
 scarcely any other that comes amiss to them. 
 Redi, who opened several, found the stomach 
 of one full of the herb called dandelion; that 
 of another was filled with beans; a third had 
 a great quantity of clover in its stomach ; 
 while that of two others was filled with earth- 
 worms and beetles ; in some he found lizards 
 and sea-fi^h; in others snails, grass, and peb- 
 bles, swallowed perhaps for medicinal pur- 
 poses. It seems, therefore, that these birds 
 are easily supplied ; and that they are noxi- 
 ous to corn-fields but on some particular oc- 
 casions. 
 
 In general it is a peaceful bird, both in its 
 own society, and with respect to those of the 
 forest. Though so large in appearance, a 
 little falcon pursues, and often disables it. 
 The method is, with those who are fond of 
 hawking, to fly several hawks together against 
 it ; which the crane endeavours to a* r oid, by 
 flying up perpendicularly, till the air becomes 
 too thin to support it any higher. The hawk, 
 however, still bears it company; and though 
 less fitted for floating in so thin a medium, 
 yet, possessed of greater rapidity, it still 
 gains the ascendancy. They both often rise 
 out of sight ; but soon the spectator, who 
 keeps his eye fixed above, perceives them, 
 like two specks, beginning to appear : they 
 gather on his eye for a little space, and shortly 
 after come tumbling perpendicularly together, 
 with great animosity on the side of the hawk, 
 and a loud screaming on that of the crane. 
 Thus driven to extremity, and unable to fly, 
 the poor animal throws itself upon its back, 
 and, in that situation, makes a most desperate 
 defence, till the sportsman coming up, gene- 
 rally puts an end to the contest with its life. 
 
 It was once the barbarous custom to breed 
 up cranes to be thus baited ; and young ones 
 were taken from the nest, to be trained up 
 for this cruel diversion. It is an animal easily 
 tamed ; and, if we can believe Alburtus Mag- 
 
 NO. 47&4S. 
 
 nus, has a particular affection for man. This 
 quality, however, was not sufficient to guard 
 it from being made the victim of his fierce 
 amusements. The female, which is easily 
 distinguished from the male, by not being 
 bald behind as he is, never lays above two 
 eggs at a time ; being like those of a goose, 
 but of a bluish colour. The young ones are 
 soon fit to fly, and then the parents forsake 
 them to shift for themselv es ; but, before this 
 time, they are led forth to the places where 
 their food is most easily found. Though yet 
 unfledged, they run with such swiftness that 
 a man cannot easily overtake them. We arc 
 told, that as they grow old, their plumage 
 becomes darker ; and, as a proof of their 
 longevity, Aldrovandus assures us, that a 
 friend of his kept one tame for above forty 
 years. 
 
 Whatever may have been the disposition 
 of the great, the vulgar of erery country, to 
 this day, bear the crane a compassionate re- 
 gard. It is possible the ancient prejudices 
 in its favour, which once having been planted 
 are eradicated but slowly, may still continue 
 to operate. In some countries, it is consider- 
 ed as an heinous offence to kill a crane; and 
 though the legislator declines to punish, yet 
 the people do not fail to resent the injury. 
 The crane, they, in some measure, consider 
 as the prophet of the season : upon its ap- 
 proach or delay they regulate the periods of 
 their rural economy. If their favourite bird 
 comes early in the season, they expect a 
 plentiful summer ; if he is slow in his visits, 
 they then prepare for an unfavourable spring. 
 Whatever wisdom there may be in despising 
 the prejudices of the vulgar, there is but little 
 in condemning them. They have generally 
 had their origin in good motives ; and it 
 should never be our endeavours to suppress 
 any tender emotions of friendship or pity, in 
 those hard breasts that are, in general, un- 
 susceptible of either. 
 
 4L 
 
556 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 CHAPTER CXIV. 
 
 THE, STORK. 
 
 IF we regard the Stork externally only, we 
 shall be very apt to confound it with the crane. 
 It is of the same size ; it has the same forma- 
 tion as to the bill, neck, legs, and body, ex- 
 cept that it is something more corpulent. Its 
 dilferenccs are but very slight ; such as the 
 colour, which, in the crane, is ash and black, 
 but in the stork is white and brown. The 
 nails of the toes of the stork also are very 
 peculiar; not being clawed like those of other 
 birds, but flat like the nails of a man. 
 
 These, however, are but very slight dif- 
 ferences ; and its true distinctions are to be 
 taken rather from its manners than its form. 
 The crane has a loud piercing voice ; the 
 stork is silent, and produces no other noise 
 than the clacking of its under-chap against 
 the upper: the crane has a strange convolu- 
 tion of the wind-pipe through the breast-bone; 
 the stork's is formed in the usual manner : 
 the crane feeds mostly upon vegetables and 
 grain ; the stork preys entirely upon frogs, 
 fishes, birds, and serpents ; the crane avoids 
 towns and populous places ; the stork lives 
 always in or near them : the crane lays but 
 two eggs ; and the stork generally four. 
 These are distinctions fully sufficient to mark 
 the species, notwithstanding the similitude of 
 their form. 
 
 Storks are birds of passage, like the former; 
 but it is hard to say whence they come or 
 whither they go. When they withdraw from 
 Europe, they all assemble on a particular 
 day. and never leave one of their company 
 behind them. They take their flight in the 
 night ; which is the reason the way they go 
 
 Storks take their departure from Europe in the au- 
 tumn, and pass into Egypt and the marshes of Barbary : 
 there they enjoy a second summer, and there they pair, 
 lay again, arid bring up a second brood. Mrs. Starke, in 
 her Letters on Italy, mentions a singular instance of the 
 sagacity of these birds. " A wild stork was brought by a 
 farmer, in the neighbourhood of Hamburg, into his poul- 
 try-yard, to be the companion of a tame one he had long 
 
 has never been observed. They generally 
 return into Europe in the middle of March, 
 and make their nests on the tops of chimneys 
 and houses, as well as of high trees. The 
 females lay from two to four eggs, of the size 
 and colour of those of geese ; and the male 
 and female sit upon them by turns. They 
 are a month in hatching ; and when their 
 young are excluded, they are particularly 
 solicitous for their safety." 
 
 As the food of these birds consists in a 
 great measure of frogs and perperits, it is not 
 to be wondered at that different nations have 
 paid them a particular veneration. The 
 Dutch are very solicitous for the preserva- 
 tion of the stork, in every part of their repub- 
 lic. This bird seems to have taken refuge 
 among their towns ; and builds on the lops of 
 their houses without any molestation. There 
 it is seen resting familiarly in the streets, and 
 protected as well by the laws as the prejudi- 
 ces of the people. They have even got an 
 opinion that it will only live in a republic; 
 and that story of its filial piety, first falsely 
 propagated of the crane, has in part been 
 ascribed to the stork. But it is not in repub- 
 lics alone that the stork is seen to reside, as 
 there are few towns on the continent, in low 
 marshy situations, but have the stork as an 
 inmate among them; as well the despotic prin- 
 ces of Germany, as the little republics of Italy. 
 
 The stork seems a general favourite even 
 among the moderns ; but with the ancient 
 Egyptians their regard was carried even to 
 adoration. This enlightened people, who 
 worshipped the Deity in his creatures, paid 
 
 kept there : but the tame stork disliking a rival, fell upon 
 the poor stranger, and beat him so unmercifully, that he 
 was compelled to take wing, and escaped with difficulty. 
 About four months afterwards, however, he returned to 
 the poultry-yard, recovered of his wounds, and at- 
 tended by three other storks ; who no sooner alighted, 
 than they all together fell upon the tame stork, and killed 
 him. 
 
THE CRANE KIND. 
 
 557 
 
 divine honours to the ibis, as is universally 
 known. It has been usually supposed that 
 the ancient ibis is the same with that which 
 goes at present by the same name ; a bird of 
 the stork kind, of about the size of a curlew, 
 all over black, with a bill very thick in the be- 
 ginning, but ending in a point, for the better 
 seizing its prey, which is caterpillars, locusts, 
 and serpents. But however useful the mo- 
 dern ibis may be in ridding Egypt, where it 
 resides, of the vermin and venomous animals 
 that infest it ; yet it is much doubted whether 
 this be the same ibis to which the ancients 
 paid their adoration. Maillet, the French 
 consul at Cairo, observes, that it is very hard 
 to determine what bird the ancient ibis cer- 
 tainly was, because there are cranes, storks, 
 hawks, kites, and falcons, that are all equally 
 enemies to serpents, and devour a vast num- 
 ber. He farther adds, that in the month of 
 
 May, when the winds begin to blow from the 
 internal parts of Africa, there are several 
 sorts of birds that come down from Upper 
 Egypt, from whence they are driven by the 
 rains, in search of a better habitation, and 
 that it is then they do this country such sig- 
 nal services. Nor docs the (igure of this bird, 
 hieroglyphically represented on their pillars, 
 mark it sufficiently to make the distinction. 
 Besides, the modern ibis is not peculiar to 
 Egypt, as it is to be seen but at certain sea- 
 sons of the year; whereas we are informed 
 by Pliny, that this bird was seen no where 
 else. It is thought, therefore, that the true 
 ibis is a bird of the vulture kind, described 
 above, and called by some the capon of Ph&- 
 raoh, which not only is a devourer of serpents, 
 but will follow the caravans that go to Mecca, 
 to feed upon the offal of the animals that are 
 killed on the journey." 
 
 CHAPTER CXV. 
 
 OF THE BALEARIC AND OTHER FOREIGN CRANES. 
 
 HAVING ended the last chapter with 
 doubts concerning the ibis, we shall begin this 
 with doubts concerning the Balearic Crane. 
 Pliny has described a bird of the crane kind 
 with a topping resembling that of the green 
 woodpecker. This bird for a long time con- 
 tinued unknown, till we became acquainted 
 with the birds of tropical climates, when one 
 of the crane kind with a topping was brought 
 into Europe, and described by Aldrovandus 
 as Pliny's Balearic Crane. Hence these birds, 
 which have since been brought from Africa 
 and the East in numbers, have received the 
 name of Balearic Cranes, but without any 
 just foundation. The real Balearic Crane of 
 Pliny seems to be the lesser ash-coloured 
 heron, with a topping of narrow white fea- 
 
 The true ibis of the ancients differs from the stork, 
 in having a long, awl-shaped, slightly curved bill, without 
 the furrow from the nostrils observable in the stork : the 
 face is likewise destitute of feathers ; and it has a naked 
 jugular pouch. The body is of a whitish rufous colour, 
 with black quill-feathers; the face is red, and the bill pale 
 
 thers ; or perhaps the egret, with two long 
 feathers that fall back from the sides of the 
 head. The bird that we are about to describe 
 under the name of the Balearic Crane, was 
 unknown to the ancients, and the heron or 
 egret ought to be reinstated in their just title 
 to that name. 
 
 When we see a very extraordinary animal, 
 we are naturally led to suppose that there 
 must be something also remarkable in its his- 
 tory, to correspond with the singularity of its 
 figure. But it often happens that history fails 
 on tho^e occasions where we most desire in- 
 formation. In the present instance, in par- 
 ticular, no bird presents to the eye a more 
 whimsical figure than this, which we must be 
 content to call the Balearic Crane. It is pretty 
 
 yellow. It inhabits, in vast flocks, the lower parts of 
 Eypt, which, after the inundation of the Nile, is infested 
 with swarms of reptiles and noxious insects : Jiese it de- 
 stroys with great expedition, and is for this reason held 
 sacred by the Egyptians. It is nearly forty inches long, 
 and rests in an erect posture. 
 
 4L 
 
558 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 nearly of the shape and size of the ordinary 
 crane, with long legs and a long neck, like 
 others of the kind ; but the bill is shorter, and 
 the colour of the feathers of a dark greenish 
 gray. The head and throat form the most 
 striking part of this bird's figure. On the 
 head is seen, standing up, a thick round crest. 
 made of bristles, spreading every -way, and 
 resembling rays standing out in different di- 
 rections. The longest of these rays are 
 about three inches and a half, and they are 
 all topped with a kind of black tassels, which 
 give them a beautiful appearance. The sides 
 of the head and cheeks are bare, whitish, and 
 edged with red ; while underneath the throat 
 hangs a kind of bag or wattle, like that of a 
 cock, but not divided into two. To give this 
 odd composition a higher finishing, the eye 
 is large and staring; the pupil black and big. 
 surrounded with a gold-coloured iris, that 
 completes the bird's very singular appearance. 
 
 From such a peculiar figure, we might be 
 led to wish for a minute history of its man- 
 ners; but of these we can give but slight in- 
 formation. This bird comes from the coast 
 of Africa, and the Cape de Verd Islands. As 
 it runs, it stretches out its wings, and goes 
 very swiftly, otherwise its usual motion is very 
 slow. In their domestic state, the) walk very 
 deliberately among other poultry, and suffer 
 themselves to be approached (at least it was 
 so with that I saw) by every spectator. They 
 never roost in houses; but about night, when 
 they are disposed to go to rest, they search 
 out some high wall, on which they perch in 
 ihe manner of a peacock. Indeed, they so 
 much resemble that bird in manners and dis- 
 position, that some have described them by 
 t!;e name of the sea peacock: and Ray has 
 been inclined to rank them in the same fami- 
 ly. But though their voice and roosting be 
 similar, their food, which is entirely upon 
 greens, vegetables, and barley, seems to make 
 some difference. 
 
 In this chapter, of foreign birds of the crane 
 kind, it will '*e proper to mention the Jabiru 
 and the Jabiru Guacu, both natives of Brasil. 
 Of these great birds of the crane kind we 
 know but little, except the general outline of 
 their figure, and the enormous bills which we 
 often see preserved in the cabinets of the cu- 
 rious. The bill of the latter is red, and thir- 
 
 teen inches long ; the bill of the former is 
 black, and is found to be eleven. Neither of 
 them, however, are of a size proportioned to 
 their immoderate length of bill. The jabiru 
 guacu is not above the size of a common stork, 
 while the jabiru with the smallest bill exceeds 
 the size of a swan. They are both covered 
 with white feathers, except the head and 
 neck, that are naked ; and their principal dif- 
 ference is in the size of the body and the 
 make of the bill; the lower chap of the 
 jabiru guacu being broad, and bending up- 
 wards. 
 
 A bird still more extraordinary may be add- 
 ed to this class, called the anhima, and, like 
 the two former, a native of Brasil. This is a 
 water-fowl of the rapacious kind, and bigger 
 than a swan. The head, which is small for 
 the size of the body, bears a black bill, which 
 is not above two inches long: but what dis- 
 tinguishes it in particular, is a horn growing 
 from the forehead as long as the bill, and 
 bending forward like that of the fabulous uni- 
 corn of the ancients. This horn is not much 
 thicker than a crow-quill, as round as if it 
 were turned in a lathe, and of an ivory colour. 
 But this is not the only instrument of battle 
 this formidable bird carries; it seems to be 
 armed at all points; for at the fore-part of 
 each wing, at the second joint, spring two 
 straight triangular spurs, about as thick as 
 one's little finger: the foremost of these goads 
 or spurs is above an inch long; the hinder is 
 shorter, and both of a dusky colour. The 
 claws also are long and sharp; the colour is 
 black and white ; and they cry terriby loud, 
 sounding something like Vyhoo, Vyhoo. They 
 are never found alone, but always in pairs: 
 the cock and hen prowl together; and their 
 fidelity is said to be such, that when one dies, 
 the other never departs from the carcass, but 
 dies with its companion. It makes its nest of 
 clay, near the bodies of trees, upon the 
 ground, of the shape of an oven. 
 
 One bird more may be subjoined to this 
 class, not for the oddity of its figure, but the 
 peculiarity of its manners. It is vulgarly call- 
 ed by our sailors the buffoon bird, and by the 
 French the demoiselle or lady. The same qua- 
 lities have procured it these different appel- 
 lations from twi. nalions, who, on more occa- 
 sions than this, look upon the same objects 
 
THE CRANE KIND. 
 
 559 
 
 in very different lights. The peculiar ges- 
 tures and contortions of this bird, the proper 
 name of which is the Numidian Crane, are ex- 
 tremely singular; and the French, who are 
 skilled in the arts of elegant gesticulation, 
 consider all its motions as lady-like and grace- 
 ful. 
 
 Our English sailors, however, who have 
 not entered so deeply into the dancing art, 
 think, that while thus in motion, the bird cuts 
 but a very ridiculous figure. It stoops, rises, 
 lilts one wing, then another, turns round, sails 
 forward, then back again ; all which highly 
 diverts our seamen; not imagining, perhaps, 
 that all these contortions are but the awk- 
 
 ward expression, not of the poor animal's 
 pleasures, but its fears. 
 
 It is a very scarce bird ; the plumage is of 
 a leaden gray ; but it is distinguished by line 
 white feathers, consisting of long fibres, which 
 fall from the back of the head, about four in- 
 ches long; while the fore-part of the neck is 
 adorned with black feathers, composed of 
 very fine, soft, and long fibres, that hang down 
 upon the stomach, and give the bird a very 
 graceful appearance. The ancients have de- 
 scribed a buffoon bird; but there are many 
 reasons to believe that theirs is not the Nu- 
 midian crane. It comes from that country 
 from whence it has taken its name. 
 
 CHAPTER CXVI. 
 
 OF THE HERON, AND ITS VARIETIES." 
 
 BIRDS of the Crane, the Stork, and the " 
 Heron kind, bear a very strong affinity to 
 each other : and their differences are not ea- 
 sily discernible. As for the crane and the 
 stork, they differ rather in their nature and 
 internal conformation, than in their external 
 figure; but still they may be known asunder, 
 as well by their colour as by the stork's claws, 
 which are very peculiar, and more resembling 
 a man's nails than the claws of a bird. The 
 heron may be distinguished from both, as well 
 by its size, which is much less, as by its bill, 
 which in proportion is much longer; but par- 
 ticularly by the middle claw on each foot, 
 which is toothed like a saw, for the better 
 seizing and holding its slippery prey. Should 
 other marks fail, however, there is an anato- 
 mical distinction, in which herons differ from 
 all other birds; which is, that they have but 
 one c;ecum, and all other birds have two. 
 
 Of this tribe, Brisson has enumerated not 
 less than forty-seven sorts, all differing in 
 their size, figure, and plumage; and with ta- 
 lents adapted to their place of residence, or 
 
 a Cranes are distinguished by having the head bald; 
 Storks have the orbits round the eyes naked ; and Herons 
 have the middle claw serrated internally. 
 
 their peculiar pursuits. But, how various so- 
 ever the heron kind may be in their colours 
 or their bills, they all seem possessed of the 
 same manners, and have but one character of 
 cowardice, rapacity, and indolence, yet in- 
 satiable hunger. Other birds are found to 
 grow fat by an abundant supply of food ; but 
 these, though excessively destructive and 
 voracious, are ever found to have lean and 
 carrion bodies, as if not even plenty were 
 sufficient for their support. 
 
 The common heron is remarkably light, in 
 proportion to its bulk, scarcely weighing 
 three pounds and a half, yet it expands a 
 breadth of wing which is five feet from tip to 
 tip. Its bill is very long, being five inches 
 from the point to the base ; its claws are long, 
 sharp, and the middlemost toothed like a saw. 
 Yet, thus armed as it appears for war, it is 
 indolent and cowardly, and even flies at the 
 approach of a sparrow-hawk. It was once 
 the amusement of the great to pursue this ti- 
 morous creature with the falcon: and heron- 
 hawking was so favourite a diversion among 
 our ancestors, that laws were enacted for the 
 preservation of the species; and the person 
 who destroyed their eggs was liable to a pe- 
 nalty of twenty shillings for each offence. 
 
560 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 At present, however, the defects of the ill- 
 judged policy of our ancestors, is felt by their 
 posterity; for, as the amusement of hawking 
 has given place to the more useful method of 
 stocking fish-ponds, the heron is now become 
 a most formidable enemy. Of all other birds, 
 this commits the greatest devastation in fresh 
 waters; and there is scarce a fish, though 
 never so large, that he will not strike at and 
 wound, though unable to carry it away. But 
 the smaller fry are his chief subsistence; 
 these, pursued by their larger fellows of the 
 deep, are obliged to take refuge in shallow 
 waters, where they find the heron a still more 
 formidable enemy. His method is to wade 
 as far as he can go into the water, and there 
 patiently wait the approach of his prey, which, 
 when it comes within sight, he darts upon 
 with inevitable aim. In this manner he is 
 found to destroy more in a week than an ot- 
 ter in three months. "I have seen a heron," 
 says Willoughby, " that had been shot, that 
 had seventeen carps in his belly at once, 
 which he will digest in six or seven hours, 
 and then to fishing again. I have seen a carp," 
 continues he, " taken out of a heron's belly, 
 nine inches and a half long. Several gentle- 
 men who kept tame herons, to try what 
 quantity one of them would eat in a day, have 
 put several smaller roach and dace in a tub; 
 and they have found him eat fifty in a day, 
 one day with another. In this manner a sin- 
 gle heron will destroy fifteen thousand carp 
 in half a year. 
 
 So great are the digestive powers of this 
 fresh-water tyrant,and so detrimental to those 
 who stock ponds with fish. In general, he is 
 seen taking his gloomy stand by the lake's 
 side, as if meditating mischief, motionless, 
 and gorged with plunder. His usual attitude 
 on this occasion is to sink his long neck be- 
 tween his shoulders, and keep his head turn- 
 ed on one side, as if eyeing the pool more 
 intently. When the call of hunger returns, 
 the toil of an hour or two is generally suffi- 
 cient to fill his capacious stomach ; and he 
 retires long before night to his retreat in the 
 woods. Early in the morning, however, he 
 is seen assiduous at his usual occupation. 
 
 But, though in seasons of fine weather the 
 heron can always find a plentiful supply ; in 
 cold or stormy seasons, his prey is no longer 
 
 within reach : the fish that before came into 
 the shallow water, now keep in the deep; as 
 they find it to be the warmest situation. 
 Frogs and lizards also seldom venture from 
 their lurking places; and the heron is obli- 
 ged to support himself upon his long habits 
 of patience, and even to take up with the 
 weeds that grow upon the water. At those 
 times he contracts a consumptive disposition, 
 which succeeding plenty is not able to re- 
 move ; so that the meagre glutton spends his 
 time between want and riot, and feels alter- 
 nately the extremes of famine and excess. 
 Hence, notwithstanding the care with which 
 he takes his prey, and the amazing quantity 
 he devours, the heron is always lean and ema- 
 ciated ; and though his crop be usually found 
 full, yet his flesh is scarcely sufficient to cover 
 the bones. 
 
 The heron usually takes his prey by wa- 
 ding into the water; yet it must not be sup- 
 posed that he does not also take it upon the 
 wing. In fact, much of his fishing is perform- 
 ed in this manner; but he never hovers over 
 deep waters, as there his prey is enabled to 
 escape him by sinking to the bottom. In 
 shallow places he darts with more certainty ; 
 for though the fish at sight of its enemy in- 
 stantly descends, yet the heron, with his long 
 bill and legs, instantly pins it to the bottom, 
 and thus seizes it securely. In this manner, 
 after having been seen with his long neck for 
 above a minute under water, he rises upon 
 the wing, with a trout or an eel struggling in 
 his bill to get free. The greedy bird, how- 
 ever, flies to the shore, scarcely gives it time 
 to expire, but swallows it whole, and then 
 returns to fishing as before. 
 
 As this bird does incredible mischief to 
 ponds newly stocked, Willoughby has given 
 a receipt for taking him. " Having found his 
 haunt, get three or four small roach or dace, 
 and having provided a strong hook with a 
 wire to it, this is drawn just within-side the 
 skin of the fish, beginning without-side the 
 gills, and running it to the tail, by which the 
 fish will not be killed, but continue for five or 
 six days alive. Then having a strong line 
 made of silk and wire, about two yards and 
 a half long, it is tied to a stone at one end, 
 the fish with the hook being suffered to swim 
 about at the other. This being properly dis- 
 
THE CRANE KIND. 
 
 posed in shallow water, the heron will seize 
 upon she fish to its own destruction. From 
 this method we may learn, that the fish must 
 be alive, otherwise the heron will not touch 
 them, and riiat this bird, as well as all those 
 that feed upon fish, must be its own caterer ; 
 for they will not prey upon such as die natu- 
 rally, or are killed by others before them." 
 
 Though this bird lives chiefly among pools 
 and marshes, yet its nest is built on the tops of 
 the highest trees, and sometimes on cliffs hang- 
 ing over the sea. They are never in flocks 
 when they fish, committing their depredations 
 in solitude and silence ; but in making their 
 nests they love each other's society ; and they 
 are seen, like rooks, building in company with 
 flocks of their kind. Their nests are made of 
 sticks, and lined with wool ; and the female 
 lays four large eggs of a pale green colour. 
 The observable indolence of their nature, 
 however, is not less seen in their nestling than 
 in their habits of depredation. Nothing is 
 more certain, and I have seen it a hundred 
 times, than that they will not be at the trouble 
 of building a nest, when they can get one 
 made by the rook, or deserted by the owl, 
 already provided for them. This they usually 
 enlarge and line within, driving off the original 
 possessors, should they happen to renew their 
 fruitless claims. 
 
 The French seem to have availed them- 
 selves of the indolence of this bird in making 
 its nest ; and they actually provide a place 
 with materials fitted for their nestling, which 
 they call heronries. The heron, which with 
 us is totally unfit for the table, is more sought 
 for in France, where the flesh of the young 
 ones is in particular estimation. To obtain 
 this, the natives raise up high sheds along 
 some fishy stream ; and furnishing them with 
 materials for the herons to nestle with, these 
 birds build and breed there in great abundance. 
 As soon as the young ones are supposed to be 
 fit, the owner of the heronry comes, as we do 
 into a pigeon-house, and carries off such as 
 are proper for eating ; and these are sold for 
 a very good price to the neighbouring gentry. 
 " These arc a delicacy which," as my author 
 says, " the French are very fond of, but which 
 strangers have not yet been taught to relish as 
 they ought." Nevertheless, it was formerly 
 
 much esteemed as food in England, and made 
 a favourite dish nt great tables. It was then 
 said that the flesh of a heron was a dish Cor a 
 king ; at present nothing about the house will 
 touch it but a cat. 
 
 With us, therefore, as the heron, both old 
 and young, is thought detestable eating, we 
 seldom trouble these animals in their heights, 
 which are for the most part sufficiently inac- 
 cessible. Their nests are often found in great 
 numbers in the middle of large forests, and in 
 some groves nearer home, where the owners 
 have a predilection for the bird, and do not 
 choose to drive it from its accustomed habita- 
 tions. It is certain that by their cries, their 
 expansive wings, their bulk, and wavy motion, 
 they add no small solemnity to the forest, and 
 give a pleasing variety to a finished improve- 
 ment. 
 
 When the young are excluded, as they are 
 numerous, voracious, and importunate, the old 
 ones are for ever upon the wing to provide 
 them with abundance. The quantity of fish 
 they take upon this occasion is amazing, and 
 their size is not less to be wondered at. I re- 
 member a heron's nest that was built near a 
 school-house ; the boys, with their usual appe- 
 tite for mischief, climbed up, took down the 
 young ones, sewed up their vents, and laid 
 them in the nest as before. The pain the poor 
 little animals felt from the operation increased 
 their cries ; and this but served to increase the 
 diligence of the old ones in enlarging their 
 supply. Thus they heaped the nest with vari- 
 ous sorts of fish, and the best of their kind ; 
 and as their young screamed, they flew off for 
 more. The boys gathered up the fish, which 
 the young ones were incapable of eating, ti 1 
 the old ones at last quitted their nest ; and 
 gave up their brood, whose appetites they 
 found it impossible to satisfy. 
 
 The heron is said to be a very long-lived 
 bird ; by Mr. Keysler's account, it may ex- 
 ceed sixty years ; and by a recent instance of 
 one that was taken in Holland, by a hawk 
 belonging to the Stadtholder, its longevity is 
 again confirmed, the bird having a silver plate 
 fastened to one leg, with an inscription, 
 importing that it had been struck by the elec- 
 tor of Cologne's hawks thirty -five years be- 
 fore. 
 
562 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 CHAPTER CXVII. 
 
 OF THE BITTERN, OR MIRE-DRUM. 
 
 THOSE who have walked in an evening 
 by the sedgy sides of unfrequented rivers, must 
 remember a variety of notes from different 
 water-fowl: the loud scream of the wild-goose, 
 the croaking of the mallard, the whining of 
 the lapwing, and the tremulous neighing of 
 the jack-snipe. But of all those sounds, there 
 is none so dismally hollow as the booming of 
 the bittern. It is impossible for words to give 
 those who have not heard this evening-call an 
 adequate idea of its solemnity, h is like the 
 interrupted bellowing of a bull, but hollower, 
 and louder, and is heard at a mile's distance, 
 as if issuing from some formidable being that 
 resided at the bottom of the waters. 
 
 The bird, however, that produces this terri- 
 fying sound, is not so big as a heron, with a 
 weaker bill, not above four inches long. It 
 differs from the heron chiefly in its colour, 
 which is in general of a paleish yellow, spot- 
 ted and barred with black. Its wind-pipe 
 is fitted to produce the sound for which it is 
 remarkable ; the lower part of it dividing into 
 the lungs, is supplied with a thin loose mem- 
 brane, that can be filled with a large body of 
 air, and exploded at pleasure. These bellow- 
 ing explosions are chiefly heard from the be- 
 ginning of spring to the end of autumn; and, 
 however awful they may seem to us, are the 
 calls to courtship, or of connubial felicity. 
 
 From the loudness and solemnity of the note, 
 many have been led to suppose, that the bird 
 made use of external instruments to produce 
 it, and that so small a body could never eject 
 such a quantity of tone. The common people 
 are of opinion, that it thrusts its bill into a 
 reed, that serves as a pipe for swelling the note 
 above its natural pitch ; while others, and in 
 this number we find Thomson the poet, imagine 
 that the bittern puts its head under water, and 
 then violently blowing produces its boomings. 
 The fact is, that the bird is sufficiently pro- 
 vided by nature for this call ; and it is often 
 heard where there are neither reeds nor waters 
 to assist its sonorous invitations. 
 
 It hides in the sedges by day, and begins 
 its call in the evening, booming six or eight 
 times, and then discontinuing for ten or twenty 
 minutes, to renew the same sound. This is a 
 call it never gives but when undisturbed, and at 
 liberty. When its retreats among the sedges 
 are invaded, when it dreads or expects the 
 approach of an enemy, it is then perfrcily 
 silent. This call it has never been heard to 
 utter when taken or brought up in domestic 
 captivity ; it continues under the control of 
 man a mute forlorn bird, equally incapable of 
 attachment or instruction. But though its 
 boomings are always performed in solitude, it 
 has a scream which is generally heard upon 
 the seizing its prey, and which is sometimes 
 extorted by fear. 
 
 This bird, though of the heron kind, is yet 
 neither so destructive nor so voracious. It is 
 a retired timorous animal, concealing itself in 
 the midst of reeds and marshy places, and liv- 
 ing upon frogs, insects, and vegetables ; and 
 though so nearly resembling the heron in 
 figure, yet differing much in manners and ap- 
 petites. As the heron builds on the tops of 
 the highest trees, the bittern lays its nest in a 
 sedgy margin, or amidst a tuft of rushes. The 
 heron builds with sticks and wool ; the bittern 
 composes its simpler habitation of sedges, the 
 leaves of water-plants, and dry rushes. The 
 heron lays four eggs; the bittern generally 
 seven or eight, of an ash-green colour. The 
 heron feeds its young for many days; the bit- 
 tern in three days leads its little ones to their 
 food. In short, the heron is lean and cada- 
 verous, subsisting chiefly upon animal food ; 
 the bittern is plump and fleshy, as ii feeds 
 upon vegetables, when more nourishing food is 
 
 wanting. 
 
 It cannot be, therefore, from its voracious 
 annetites, but its hollow boom, that the bittern 
 is held in such detestation by the vulgar. I 
 remember, in the place where I was a boy, 
 with what terror this bird's note affected the 
 whole village ; they considered it as the pre- 
 
THE CRANE KIND. 
 
 563 
 
 sage of some sad event ; and generally found 
 or made one to succeed it. I do not speak 
 ludin-ously ; but if any person in the neighbour- 
 hood died, th-'V supposed it could not be other- 
 wise, for the night-raven had foretold it ; but 
 if no body happened to die, the death of a cow 
 or a sheep gave completion to the prophecy. 
 
 Whatever terror it may inspire among the 
 simple, its flesh is greatly esteemed among the 
 luxurious. For this reason, it is as eagerly 
 sought after by the fowler, as it is shunned by 
 the peasant ; and, as it is a heavy-rising slow- 
 winged bird, it does not often escape him. 
 Indeed, it seldom rises but when almost trod 
 
 upon, and seems to seek protection rather from 
 concealment than flight. At the latter end of 
 autumn, however, in the evening, its wonted 
 indolence appears to forsake it. It is then 
 seen rising in a spiral ascent, till it is quite lost 
 from the view, making at the same time a 
 singular noise very different from its former 
 boomings. Thus the same animal is often 
 seen to assume different desires ; and while 
 the Latins have given the bittern the name of 
 the star-reaching bird, (or the stellaris,) the 
 Greeks, taking its character from its more con- 
 stant habits, have given it the title of the 
 or the lazy bird. 
 
 CHAPTER CXV1II. 
 
 OF THE SPOONBILL, OR SHOVELER. 
 
 AS we proceed in our description of the 
 crane kind, birds of peculiar forms offer, not 
 entirely like the crane, and yet not so far dif- 
 ferent as to rank more properly with any other 
 class. Where the long neck and stilt-like legs 
 of the crane are found, they make too striking 
 a resemblance not to admit such birds of the 
 number ; and though the bill, or even the toes, 
 should entirely differ, yet the outlines of the 
 figure, and the natural habits and dispositions, 
 being the same, these are sufficient to mark 
 their place in the general groupe of nature. 
 
 The Spoonbill is one of those birds which 
 differs a good deal from the crane, yet ap- 
 proaches this class more than any other. The 
 body is more bulky for its height, and the bill 
 is very differently formed from that of any 
 other bird whatever. Yet still it is a compa- 
 ratively tall bird ; it feeds among waters ; its 
 toes are divided ; and it seems to possess the 
 natural dispositions of the crane. The Euro- 
 pean spoonbill is of about the bulk of a crane ; 
 but as the one is above four feet high, the 
 other is not more than three feet three inches. 
 The common colour of those of Europe is a 
 dirty white ; but those of America are of a 
 beautiful rose colour, or a delightful crimson. 
 Beauty of plumage seems to be the prerogative 
 of all the birds of that continent; and we here 
 see the most splendid tints bestowed on a bird, 
 no. 47 & 48. 
 
 whose figure is sufficient to destroy the effects 
 of its colouring ; for its bill is so oddly fash- 
 ioned, and its eyes so stupidly staring, that its 
 fine feathers only tend to add splendour to de- 
 formity. The bill, which in this bird is so 
 very particular, is about seven inches long, 
 and running out broad at the end, as its name 
 justly serves to denote, it is there about an 
 inch and a half wide. This strangely fashion- 
 ed instrument in some is black ; in others of a 
 light gray ; and in those of America, it is of a 
 red colour, like the rest of the body. All round 
 the upper chap there runs a kind of rim, with 
 which it covers that beneath; and as for the 
 rest, its cheeks and its throat are without fea- 
 thers, and covered with a black skin. 
 
 A bird so oddly fashioned might be expect- 
 ed to possess some very peculiar appetites ; 
 but the spoonbill seems to lead a life entirely 
 resembling all those of the crane kind ; and 
 nature, when she made the bill of this bird so 
 very broad, seems rather to have sported with 
 its form, than to aim at any final cause for 
 which to adapt it. In fact, it is but a poor 
 philosophy to ascribe every capricious variety 
 in nature to some salutary purpose : in such 
 solutions we only impose upon each other, and 
 often wilfully contradict our own belief. There 
 must be imperfections in every being, as well 
 as capacities of enjoyment. Between both, 
 
 4M 
 
564 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 the animal leads a life of moderate felicity; in 
 part making use of its many natural advanta- 
 ges, and in part necessarily conforming to the 
 imperfections of its figure. 
 
 The shoveler chiefly feeds upon frogs, toads, 
 and serpents ; of which, particularly at the 
 Cape of Good Hope, they destroy great num- 
 bers. The inhabitants of that country hold 
 them in as much esteem as the ancient Egyp- 
 tians did their bird ibis : the shoveler runs 
 tamely about their houses ; and they are con- 
 tent with its society, as an useful, though a 
 homely, companion. They are never killed ; 
 and, indeed, they are good for nothing when 
 they are dead, for the llesh is unfit to be 
 eaten. 
 
 This bird breeds, in Europe, in company 
 with tht- heron, in high trees ; and in a nest 
 formed of the same materials. Willoughby tells 
 us, that in a certain grove, at a village call- 
 ed Seven Huys, near Leyden, they build and 
 breed yearly in great numbers. In this grove, 
 
 also, the heron, the bittern, the cormorant, and 
 the shag, have taken up their residence, and 
 annually bring forth their young together. 
 Here the crane kind seem to have formed 
 their general rendezvous ; and, as the inhabi- 
 tants say, every sort of bird has its several 
 quarter, where none but their own tribe arc 
 permitted to reside. Of this grove the pea- 
 sants of the country make good profit. "When 
 the young ones are ripe, those that farm the 
 grove, with a hook at the end of a long pole, 
 catch hold of the bough on which the nest is 
 built, and shake out the young ones ; but 
 sometimes the nest and all tumble down to- 
 gether. 
 
 The shoveler lays from three to five eggs, 
 white, and powdered with a few sanguine or 
 pale spots. We sometimes see, in the cabinets 
 of the curious, the bills of American shovelers, 
 twice as big and as long as those of the com- 
 mon kind among us ; but these birds have not 
 yet made their way into Europe. 
 
 CHAPTER CX1X. 
 
 THE FLAMINGO. 
 
 THE Flamingo has the justest right to be 
 placed among cranes ; and though it happens 
 to be web-footed, like birds of the goose kind, 
 yet its height, figure, and appetites, entirely 
 remove it from that groveling class of animals. 
 With a longer neck and legs than any other of 
 the crane kind, it seeks its food by wailing 
 among waters, and only differs from all of this 
 tribe in the manner of seizing its prey ; for as 
 the heron makes use of its claws, the flamingo 
 uses only its bill, which is strong and thick 
 for the purpose, the claws being useless, as 
 they are feeble, and webbed like those of 
 water-fowl. 
 
 The flamingo is the most remarkable of all 
 the crane kind, the tallest, bulkiest, and the 
 most beautiful. The body, which is of a 
 beautiful scarlet, is no bigger than that of a 
 swan ; but its legs and neck are of such an 
 extraordinary length, that, when it stands 
 erect, it is six feet six inches high. Its wings, 
 extended, are five feet six inches from tip to j 
 
 tip ; and it is four feet eight inches from tip to 
 tail. The head is round and small, with a 
 large bill, seven inches long, partly red, partly 
 black, and crooked like a bow. The legs and 
 thighs, which are not much thicker than a 
 man's finger, are about two feet eight inches 
 high ; and its neck near three feet long. The 
 feet are not furnished with sharp claws, as in 
 others of the crane kind ; but feeble, and 
 united by membranes, as in those of the goose. 
 Of what use these membranes are does not 
 appear, as the bird is never seen swimming, 
 its legs and thighs being sufficient for bearing 
 it into those depths where it seeks for prey. 
 
 This extraordinary bird is now chiefly 
 found in America ; but it vt as once known on 
 all the coasts of Europe. Its beauty, its size, 
 and the peculiar delicacy of its flesh, have 
 been such temptations to destroy or take it, 
 that it has long since deserted tht j shores fre- 
 quented by man, and taken refuge in countries 
 that are as yet but thinly peopled. In those 
 
THE CRANE KIND. 
 
 desert regions, the flamingos live in a state 
 of society, and under a better polity than any 
 other of the feathered creation. 
 
 When the Europeans first came to Ameri- 
 ca, and coasted down along the African shores, 
 they found the flamingos on several shores, 
 on either continent, gentle, and no way dis- 
 trustful of mankind." They had long been 
 used to security, in the extensive solitudes 
 they had chosen ; and knew no enemies but 
 those they could very well evade or oppose. 
 The Negroes and the native Americans were 
 possessed but of few destructive arts for kill- 
 ing them at a distance; and when the bird 
 perceived the arrow, it well knew how to 
 avoid it. But it was otherwise when the Eu- 
 ropeans first came among them : the sailors, 
 not considering that the dread of fire-arms 
 was totally unknown in that part of the world, 
 
 gave the flamingo the character of a foolish 
 ird, that suffered itself to be approached and 
 shot at. When the fowler had killed one, 
 the rest of the flock, far from attempting to fly, 
 only regarded the fall of their companion in 
 a kind of fixed astonishment; another and 
 another shot was discharged ; and thus the 
 fowler often levelled the whole flock, before 
 one of them began to think of escaping. 
 
 But at present it is very different in that 
 part of the world : and the flamingo is not only 
 one of the scarcest, but of the shyest birds in 
 the world, and the most difficult of approach. 
 They chiefly keep near the most deserted 
 and inhospitable shores; near salt-water lakes 
 and swampy islands. They come down to 
 the banks of rivers by day ; and often retire 
 to the inland mountainous parts of the coun- 
 try at the approach of night. W r hen seen by 
 mariners in the day, they always appear 
 drawn up in a long close line of two or three 
 hundred together; and, as Dampier tells us, 
 present, at the distance of half a mile, the 
 exact representation of a long brick wall. 
 Their rank, however, is broken when they 
 seek for food ; but they always appoint one 
 of the number as a watch, whose only em- 
 ployment is to observe and give notice of dan- 
 ger, while the rest are feeding. As soon as 
 this trusty centinel perceives the remotest ap- 
 pearance of danger, he gives a loud scream, 
 
 Albirrs New History of Birds. 
 
 with a voice as shrill as a trumpet, and in- 
 stantly the whole cohort are upon the wing. 
 They feed in silence; but, upon this occa- 
 sion, all the flock are in one chorus, and fill 
 the air with intolerable screamings. 
 
 From this it appears, that the flamingos are 
 ver> difficult to be approached at present, 
 and that they avoid mankind with the most 
 cautious timidity ; however, it is not from any 
 antipathy to man that they shun his society, 
 for in some villages, PS we are assured by 
 Labat, along the coasts of Africa, the flamin- 
 gos come in great numbers to make their re- 
 sidence among the natives. There they as- 
 semble by thousands, perched on the trees, 
 within and about the village ; and are so very 
 clamorous, that the sound is heard at near 
 a mile's distance. The Negroes are fond of 
 their company ; and consider their society as 
 a gift of Heaven, as a protection from acci- 
 dental evils. The French, who are admit- 
 ted to this part of the coast, cannot, without 
 some degree of discontent, see such a quan- 
 tity of game untouched, and rendered useless 
 by the superstition of the natives: they now 
 and then privately shoot some of them, wlirn 
 at a convenient distance from the village, and 
 hide them in the long grass, if they perceive 
 any of the Negroes approaching; for they 
 would probably stand a chance of being ill 
 used, if the blacks discovered their sacred 
 birds thus unmercifully treated. 
 
 Sometimes, in their wild state, they are shot 
 by mariners; and their young, which run ex- 
 cessively fast, are often taken. Labat has 
 frequently taken them with nets, properly ex- 
 tended round the places they breed in. When 
 their long legs are entangled in the meshes, 
 they are then unqualified to make their es- 
 cape: but they still continue to combat with 
 their destroyer; and the old ones, though 
 seized by the head, will scratch with their 
 claws; and these, though seemingly inoffen- 
 sive, very often do mischief. When they are 
 fairly disengaged from the net, they neverthe- 
 less preserve their natural ferocity ; they re- 
 fuse all nourishment; they peck, and com- 
 bat with their claws, at every opportunity. 
 The fowler is, therefore, under a necessity 
 of destroying them, when taken; as they 
 would only pine and die, if left to themselves 
 in captivity. 
 
 4M 
 
566 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 The flesh of the old ones is black and hard ; 
 though, Dampier says, well-tasted : that of the 
 young ones is still better. But of all other 
 delicacies, the flamingos' tongue is the most 
 celebrated. " A dish of flamingos' tongues," 
 says our author, " is a feast for an emperor." 
 In fact, the Roman emperors considered them 
 as the highest luxury; and we have an ac- 
 count of one of them, who procured fifteen 
 hundred flamingos' tongues to be served up 
 in a single dish. The tongue of this bird, 
 which is so much sought after, is a good deal 
 l;irger than that of any other bird whatever. 
 The bill of the flamingo is like a large black 
 box, of an irregular figure, and filled with a 
 tongue which is black and gristly ; but what 
 peculiar flavour it may possess, I leave to be 
 determined by such as understand good eat- 
 ing better than I do. It is probable, that the 
 beauty and scarcity of the bird might be the 
 first inducements to studious gluttony to fix 
 upon its tongue as meat for the table. What 
 Dampier says of the goodness of its flesh, can- 
 not so well be relied on; for Dampier was 
 often hungry, and thought any thing good that 
 could be eaten : he avers, indeed, with Labat, 
 that the flesh is black, tough, and fishy ; so 
 that we can hardly give him credit, when he 
 asserts, that its flesh can be formed into a 
 luxurious entertainment. 
 
 These birds, as was said, always go in flocks 
 together; and they move in rank, in the man- 
 ner of cranes. They are sometimes seen, at 
 the break of day, flying down in great num- 
 bers from the mountains, and conducting each 
 other with a trumpet cry, that sounds like the 
 word Tococo, from whence the savages of Ca- 
 nada have given them the name. In their 
 flight they appear to great advantage; for 
 they then seem of as bright a red as a burn- 
 ing coal. When they dispose themselves to 
 feed, their cry ceases ; and then they disperse 
 over a whole marsh, in silence and assiduity. 
 Their manner of feeding is very singular: 
 the bird thrusts down its head, so that the 
 upper convex side of the bill shall only touch 
 the ground ; and in this position the animal 
 appears, as it were, standing upon its head. 
 In this manner it paddles and moves the bill 
 about, and seizes whatever fish or insect hap- 
 pens to offer. For this purpose the upper 
 chap is notched at the edges, so as to hold 
 
 its prey with the greater security. Catesby. 
 however, gives a different account of their 
 feeding. According to him, they thus place 
 the upper chap undermost, and so work about 
 in order to pick up a seed from the bottom 
 of the water, that resembles millet: but as 
 in picking up this they necessarily also suck 
 in a great quantity of mud, their bill is tooth- 
 ed at the edges in such a manner as to let 
 out the mud while they swallow the grain. 
 
 Their time of breeding is according to the 
 climate in which they reside: in North Ame- 
 rica they breed in our summer; on the other 
 side the line, they take the most favourable 
 season of the year. They build their nests 
 in extensive marshes, and where they are in 
 no danger of a surprise. The nest is not 
 less curious than the animal that builds it: 
 it is raised from the surface of the pool about 
 a foot and a half, formed of mud scraped up 
 together, and hardened by the sun, or the 
 heat of the bird's body: it resembles a trun- 
 cated cone, or one of the pots which we see 
 placed on chimneys; on the top it is hollow- 
 ed out to the shape of the bird, and in that 
 cavity the female lays her eggs, without any 
 lining but the well-cemented mud that forms 
 the sides of the building. She always lays 
 two eggs, and no more ; and, as her legs are 
 immoderately long, she straddles on the nest, 
 while her legs hang down, one on each side, 
 into the water. 
 
 The young ones are a long while before 
 they are able to fly ; but they run with ama- 
 zing swiftness. They are sometimes caught; 
 and, very different from the old ones, suffer 
 themselves to be carried home, and are 
 tamed very easily. In five or six days they 
 become familiar, eat out of the hand, and 
 drink a surprising quantity of sea-water. But 
 though they are easily rendered domestic, 
 they are not reared without the greatest dif- 
 ficulty : for they generally pine away, for want 
 of their natural supplies, and die in a short 
 time. While they are yet young, (heir co- 
 lours are very different from those lively tints 
 they acquire with age. In their first year 
 they are covered with plumage of a white co- 
 lour, mixed with gray: in the second year 
 the whole body is white, with here and there 
 a slight tint of scarlet; and the great covert 
 feathers of the wings are black : the third 
 
THE CRANE KIND. 
 
 567 
 
 year the bird acquires all its beauty; the plu- 
 mage of the whole body is scarlet, except 
 some of the feathers in the wings, that still re- 
 tain their sable hue. Of these beautiful plumes 
 the savages make various ornaments ; and 
 
 the bird is sometimes skinned by the Euro- 
 peans, to make muffs. But these have dimin- 
 ished in their price, since we have obtained 
 the art of dying feathers of the brightest 
 scarlet. 
 
 CHAPTER CXX. 
 
 OF THE AVOSETTA, OR SCOOPER; AND THE CORRIRA, OR RUNNER. 
 
 THE extraordinary shape of the Avosetla's 
 bill might incline us to wish for its history ; 
 and yet in that we are not able to indulge the 
 reader. Natural historians have hitherto, like 
 ambitious monarchs, shown a greater fond- 
 ness for extending their dominions, than culti- 
 vating what they possess. While they have 
 been labouring to add new varieties to their 
 catalogues, they have neglected to study the 
 history of animals already known. 
 
 The avosetta is chiefly found in Italy, and 
 now and then comes over into England. It 
 is about the size of a pigeon, is a pretty upright 
 bird, and has extremely long legs for its size. 
 But the most extraordinary part of its figure, 
 and that by which it may be distinguished 
 from all others of the feathered tribe, is the 
 bill, which turns up like a hook, in an oppo- 
 site direction to that of the hawk or the parrot. 
 This extraordinary bill is black, flat, sharp, 
 and flexible at the end, and about three inches 
 and a half long. From its being bare a long 
 way above the knee, it appears that it lives 
 
 The Avoset breeds in the fens of Lincolnshire, and 
 on Romney marsh in Kent. In winter they assemble in 
 small flocks of six or seven, and frequent our shores, 
 especially the mouths of large muddy rivers, in search of 
 worms and marine insects. These they scoop out of the 
 mud with their recurved bills, which are admirably adapt- 
 ed for that purpose, being tough and flexible like whale- 
 bone. The feet seem calculated for swimming, but they 
 
 and wades in the waters. It has a chirping 
 pert note, as we are told ; but with its other 
 habits we are entirely unacquainted. I have 
 placed it, from its slender figure, among the 
 cranes ; although it is web-footed, like the 
 duck. It is one of those birds of whose his- 
 tory we are yet in expectation." 
 
 To this bird of the crane kind, so little 
 known, I will add another, still less known ; 
 the Corrira, or Runner, of Aldrovandus. All 
 we are told of it is, that it has the longest legs 
 of all web-footed fowls, except the flamin- 
 go and avosetta ; that the bill is straight, yel- 
 low, and black at the ends; that the pupils of 
 the eyes are surrounded with two circles, one 
 of which is bay, and the other white : below, 
 near the belly, it is whitish ; the tail, with two 
 white feathers, black at the extremities : and 
 that the upper part of the body is of the colour 
 of rusty iron. It is thus that we are obliged to 
 substitute dry description for instructive history ; 
 and employ words, to express those shadings of 
 colour which the pencil alone can convey. 
 
 are never observed to take the water : it is therefore pro- 
 bable, that they are furnished with a web merely to pre- 
 vent their sinking into the mud. The female lays two 
 eggs about the size of those of a pigeon, of a white colour 
 tinged with green, and marked with large black spots. 
 It is said to be very tenacious of its young, and when dis- 
 turbed at this season, will fly round in repeated circles, 
 uttering a note that resembles the word twit twice repeated. 
 
568 
 
 4 HISTORY OF 
 
 CHAPTER CXXI. 
 
 OF SMALL BIRDS OF THE CRANE KIND, WITH THE THIGHS PARTLY BARE 
 
 OF FEATHERS. 
 
 AS I have taken my distinctions rather 
 from the general form and manners of birds, 
 than from their minuter though perhaps more 
 precise discriminations, it will not be expected 
 that I should here enter into a particular his- 
 tory of a numerous tribe of birds, whose man- 
 ners and forms are so very much alike. Of 
 many of them we have scarcely any account 
 in our historians, but tedious descriptions of 
 their dimensions, and the colour of their plu- 
 mage ; and of the rest, the history of one is so 
 much that of all, that it is but the same ac- 
 count repeated to a most disgusting reiteration. 
 I will therefore group them into one general 
 draught ; in which the more eminent, or the 
 most whimsical, will naturally stand forward 
 on the canvass. 
 
 In this group we find an extensive tribe 
 of native birds, with their varieties and 
 affinities; and we might add a hundred others, 
 of distant climates, of which we know little 
 more than the colour and the name. In this 
 list is exhibited the Curlew, a bird of about 
 the size of a duck, with a bill four inches 
 long: the Woodcock, about the size of a 
 pigeon, with a bill three inches long : the 
 Godwit, of the same size; the bill four inches: 
 the Green Shank, longer legged ; the bill two 
 inches and a half: the Red Shank, differing 
 in the colour of its feet from the former: the 
 Snipe, less by half, with a bill three inches. 
 Then with shorter bills The Ruff, with a 
 collar of feathers round the neck of the male: 
 the Knot, the Sandpiper, the Sanderling, the 
 Dunlin, the Purre, and the Stint. To con- 
 clude with bills very short The Lapwing, 
 the Green Plover, the Gray Plover, the Dot- 
 trel, the Turnstone, and the Sea-lark. These, 
 with their affinities, are properly natives or 
 visitants of this country; and are dispersed 
 along our shores, rivers, and watery grounds. 
 Taking in the birds of this kind, belonging 
 to other countries, the list would be very 
 
 widely extended ; and the whole of this class, 
 as described by Brisson, would amount to 
 near a hundred. 
 
 All these birds possess many marks in 
 common; though some have peculiarities 
 that deserve regard. All these birds are 
 bare of feathers above the knee, or above 
 the heel, as some naturalists choose to express 
 it. In fact, that part which I call the knee, 
 if compared with the legs of mankind, is 
 analogous to the heel ; but, as it is-common- 
 ly conceived otherwise, I have conformed to 
 the general apprehension. I say, therefore, 
 that all these birds are bare of feathers 
 above the knee; and in some they are want- 
 ing half way up the thigh. The nudity in 
 that part, is partly natural, and partly pro- 
 duced by all birds of this kind habitually 
 wading in water. The older the bird, the 
 barer are its thighs ; yet even the young ones 
 have not the same downy covering reaching 
 so low as the birds of any other class. Such 
 a covering there would rather be prejudicial, 
 as being continually liable to get wet in the 
 water. 
 
 As these birds are usually employed rather 
 in running than in flying, and as their food 
 lies entirely upon the ground, and not on 
 trees or in the air, so they run with great 
 swiftness for their size, and the length of their 
 legs assists their velocity. But, as in seek- 
 ing their food, they are often obliged to 
 I change their station ; so also are they equally 
 swift of wing, and traverse immense tracts of 
 country without much fatigue. 
 
 It has been thought by some, that a part of 
 this class lived upon an oily slime, found in 
 the bottoms of ditches and of weedy pools ; 
 they were thence termed, by Willoughby, 
 Mudsuckers. But laterdiscoveries have shown 
 that, in these places, they hunt for the cater- 
 pillars and worms of insects. From hence, 
 therefore, we may generally assert, that all 
 
THE CRANE KIND. 
 
 569 
 
 birds of this class live upon animals of one 
 kind or another. The long-billed birds suck 
 up worms and insects from the bottom; those 
 furnished with shorter bills, pick up such in- 
 sects as lie nearer the surface of the meadow, 
 or among the sands on the sea-shore. 
 
 Thus the curlew, the woodcock, and the 
 snipe, are ever seen is plashy brakes, and 
 under covered hedges, assiduously employed 
 in seeking out insects in their worm state ; 
 and it seems, from their fatness, that they find 
 a plentiful supply. Nature, indeed, has fur- 
 nished them with very convenient instruments 
 for procuring their food. Their bills are 
 made sufficiently long for searching; but 
 still more, they are endowed with an exqui- 
 site sensibility at the point, for feeling their 
 provision. They are furnished with no less 
 than three pair of nerves, equal almost to the 
 optic nerves in thickness ; which pass from 
 the roof of the mouth, and run along the up- 
 per chap to the point. 
 
 Nor are those birds with shorter bills, and 
 destitute of such convenient instruments, 
 without a proper provision made for their 
 subsistence. The lapwing, the sandpiper, 
 and the redshank, run with surprising rapidity 
 along the surface of the marsh or the sea- 
 shore, quarter their ground with great dex- 
 terity, and leave nothing of the insect kind 
 that happens to lie on the surface. These, 
 however, are neither so fat nor so delicate 
 as the former; as they are obliged to toil 
 more for a subsistence, they are easily satis- 
 fied with whatever offers; and their flesh 
 often contracts a relish from what has been 
 their latest, or their principal food. 
 
 Most of the birds formerly described, have 
 stated seasons for feeding and rest; the eagle 
 kind prowl by day, and at evening repose ; 
 the owl by night, and keeps unseen in the 
 day-time: but these birds, of the crane kind, 
 seem at all hours employed ; they are sel- 
 dom at rest by day; and, during the whole 
 night-season, every meadow and marsh re- 
 sounds with their different calls, to courtship 
 or to food. 
 
 This seems to be the time when they least 
 fear interruption from man; and though they 
 fly at all times, yet, at this season^ they ap- 
 p - ;r more assiduously employed, both in pro- 
 viding for their present support, and continu- 
 
 ing that of posterity. This is usually the sea- 
 son when the insidious fowler steals in upon 
 their occupations, and fills the whole mea- 
 dow with terror and destruction. 
 
 As all of this kind live entirely in waters, 
 and among watery places, they seem pro- 
 vided by nature with a warmth of constitu- 
 tion to fit them for that cold element. They 
 reside, by choice, in the coldest climates : 
 and as other birds migrate here- in our sum- 
 mer, their migrations hither are mostly in (he 
 winter. Even those that reside among us the 
 whole season, retire in summer to the tops of 
 our bleakest mountains ; where they breed, 
 and bring down their young, when the cold 
 weather sets in. 
 
 Most of them, however, migrate, and retire 
 to the polar regions; as those that remain 
 behind in the mountains, and keep with us 
 during summer, bear no proportion to the 
 quantity which in winter haunt our marshes 
 and low grounds. The snipe sometimes 
 huilds here ; and the nest of the curlew is 
 sometimes found in the plashes of our hills ; 
 but the number of these is very small ; and 
 it is most probable that they are only some 
 stragglers who, not having strength or cou- 
 rage sufficient for the general voyage, take 
 up from necessity their habitation here. 
 
 In general, during the summer, this whole 
 class either choose the coldest countries to 
 retire to, or the coldest and the moistest part 
 of ours to breed in. The curlew, the wood- 
 cock, the snipe, the godwit, the gray plover, 
 the green and the long-legged plover, the 
 knot, and the turnstone, are rather the guests 
 than the natives of this island. They visit 
 us in the beginning of winter, and forsake us 
 in the spring. They then retire to the moun- 
 tains of Sweden, Poland, Prussia, and Lap- 
 land, to breed. Our country, during the 
 summer season, becomes uninhabitable to 
 them. The ground parched up by the heat; 
 the springs dried away ; and the vermicular 
 insects already upon the wing ; they have no 
 means of subsisting. Their weak and deli- 
 cately pointed bills are unfit to dig into a 
 resisting soil; and their prey is departed, 
 though they were able to reach its retreats. 
 Thus, that season when nature is said to 
 teem with life, arid to put on her gayest live- 
 ries, is to them an interval of sterility and 
 
570 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 famine. The coldest mountains of the north 
 are then a preferable habitation ; the mar- 
 shes there are never totally dried up; and 
 the insects are in such abundance, that, both 
 above ground and underneath, the country 
 swarms with them. In such retreats, there- 
 fore, these birds would continue always ; 
 but that the frosts, when they set in, have the 
 same effect upon the face of the landscape, 
 as the heats of summer. Every brook is stif- 
 fened into ice ; all the earth is congealed 
 into one solid mass ; and the birds are obliged 
 to forsake a region where they can no longer 
 find subsistence. 
 
 Such are our visitants. With regard to 
 those which keep with us continually, and 
 breed here, they are neither so delicate in 
 their food, nor perhaps so warm in their con- 
 stitutions. The lapwing, the ruff, the red- 
 shank, the sandpiper, the sea-pie, the Nor- 
 folk plover, and the sea-lark, breed in this 
 country, and, for the most part, reside here. 
 In summer they frequent such marshes as are 
 not dried up in any part of the year; the 
 Essex hundreds, and the fens of Lincolnshire. 
 There, in solitudes formed by surrounding 
 marshes, they breed and bring up their young. 
 In winter they come down from their retreats, 
 rendered uninhabitable by the flooding of the 
 waters, and seek their food about our ditches 
 and marshy meadow-grounds. Yet, even of 
 this class, all are wanderers upon some oc- 
 casions ; and take wing to the northern cli- 
 mates, to breed and find subsistence. This 
 happens when our summers are peculiarly 
 dry; and when the fenny countries are not 
 sufficiently watered to defend their retreats. 
 
 But though this be the usual course of na- 
 ture, with respect to these birds, they often 
 break through the general habits of their 
 kind ; and as the lapwing, the ruff, and the 
 sandpiper, are sometimes seen to alter their 
 manners, and to migrate from hence, instead 
 of continuing to breed here; so we often find 
 the woodcock, the snipe, and the curlew, re- 
 side with us during the whole season, and 
 breed their young in different parts of the 
 country. In Casewood, about two miles 
 from Tunbridge, as Mr. Pennant assures us, 
 some woodcocks are seen to breed annually. 
 The young have been shot there in the be- 
 ginning of August ; and were as healthy and 
 
 vigorous as they are with us in winter, though 
 not so well tasted. On the Alps, and other 
 high mountains, says Willoughby, the wood- 
 cock continues all summer; I myself have 
 flushed them on the top of Mount Jura, in 
 June arid July. The eggs are long, of a pale 
 red colour, and stained with deeper spots 
 and clouds. The nests of the curlew and 
 the snipe are frequently found ; and some 
 of these perhaps never entirely leave this 
 island. 
 
 It is thus that the same habits are, in some 
 measure, common to all ; but in nestling, and 
 bringing up their young, one method takes 
 place universally. As they all run and feed 
 upon the ground, so they are all found to 
 nestle there. The number of eggs generally 
 to be seen in every nest, is from two to four; 
 never under, and very seldom exceeding. 
 The nest is made without any art ; but the 
 eggs are either laid in some little depression 
 of the earth, or on a few bents and long grass, 
 that scarcely preserve them from the moisture 
 below. Yet such is the heat of the body of 
 these birds, that the time of incubation is 
 shorter than with any others of the same size. 
 The magpie, for instance, takes twenty-one 
 days to hatch its young; the lapwing takes 
 but fourteen. Whether the animal oil, with 
 which these birds abound, gives them this 
 superior warmth, I cannot tell ; but there is 
 no doubt of their quick incubation. 
 
 In their seasons of courtship, they pair as 
 other birds; but not without violent contests 
 between the males, for the choice of the fe- 
 male. The lapwing and the plover are often 
 seen to fight among themselves ; but there is 
 one little bird of this tribe, called the ruff, 
 that has got the epithet of the fighter, merely 
 from its great perseverance ana animosity on 
 these occasions. In the beginning of spring, 
 when these birds arrive among our marshes, 
 they are observed to engage with desperate 
 fury against each other: it is then that the 
 fowlers, seeing them intent on mutual destruc- 
 tion, spread their nets over them, and take 
 them in great numbers. Yet even in capti- 
 vity their animosity still continues : the peo- 
 ple that fat them up for sale, are obliged to 
 shut them up in close dark rooms ; for if they 
 let ever so little light in among them the 
 turbulent prisoners instantly fall to fighting 
 
THE CRANE KIND. 
 
 571 
 
 with each other, and never cease till each 
 has killed its antagonist, especially, says 
 Willoughby, if any body stands by. A similar 
 animosity, though in a less degree, prompts 
 all this tribe ; but when they have paired, 
 and begun to lay, their contentions are then 
 over. 
 
 The place these birds chiefly choose to 
 breed in, is in some island surrounded with 
 sedgy moors, where men seldom resort; and 
 in such situations I have often seen the ground 
 so strewed with eggs and nests, that one 
 could scarcely take a step, without treading 
 upon some of them. As soon as a stranger 
 intrudes upon these retreats, the whole colony 
 is up, and a hundred different screams are 
 heard from every quarter. The arts of the 
 lapwing, to allure men or dogs from her nest, 
 are perfectly amusing. When she perceives 
 the enemy approaching, she never waits till 
 they arrive at her nest, but boldly runs to 
 meet them : when she has come as near them 
 as she dares to venture, she then rises with a 
 loud screaming before them, seeming as if 
 she were just flushed from hatching; while 
 she is then probably a hundred yards from 
 the nest. Thus she flies, with great clamour 
 and anxiety, whining and screaming round 
 the invaders, striking at them with her wings, 
 and fluttering as if she were wounded. To 
 add to the deceit, she appears still more 
 clamorous, as more remote from the nest. If 
 she sees them very near, she then seems to 
 be quite unconcerned, and her cries cease, 
 while her terrors are really augmenting. If 
 there be dogs, she flies heavily at a little dis- 
 tance before them, as if maimed ; still voci- 
 ferous and still bold, but never offering to 
 move towards the quarter where her treasure 
 is deposited. The dog pursues, in hopes 
 every moment of seizing the parent, and by 
 this means actually loses the young; for the 
 cunning bird, when she has thus drawn him 
 off to a proper distance, then puts forth her 
 powers, and leaves her astonished pursuer to 
 gaze at the rapidity of her flight. The eggs 
 of all these birds are highly valued by the 
 luxurious; they are boiled hard, and thus 
 served up without any further preparation. 
 
 As the young of this class are soon hatch- 
 ed, so, when excluded, they quickly arrive at 
 NO. 49 & 50. 
 
 maturity. They run about after the mother 
 as soon as they leave the egg; and being 
 covered with a thick down, want very little 
 of that clutching which all birds of the poul- 
 try kind, that follow the mother, indispensa- 
 bly require. They come to their adult state 
 long before winter; and then flock together 
 till the breeding season returns, which for a 
 while dissolves their society. 
 
 As the flesh of almost all these birds is in 
 high estimation, so many methods have been 
 contrived for taking them. That used in 
 taking the ruff, seems to be most advantage- 
 ous; and it may not be amiss to describe it. 
 The ruff, which is the name of the male, the 
 reeve that of the female, is taken in neta 
 about forty yards long, and seven or eight 
 feet high. These birds are chiefly found in 
 Lincolnshire and the Isle of Ely, where they 
 come about the latter end of April, and dis- 
 appear about Michaelmas. The male of this 
 bird, which is known from all others of the 
 kind by the great length of the feathers round 
 his neck, is yet so various in his plumage, 
 that it is said, no two ruffs were ever seen, 
 totally of the same colour. The nets in which 
 these are taken, are supported by sticks, at 
 an angle of near forty-five degrees, and placed 
 either on dry ground, or in a very shallow 
 water, not remote from reeds : among these 
 the fowler conceals himself, till the birds, 
 enticed by a stale or stuffed bird, come under 
 the nets; he then, by pulling a string, lets 
 them fall, and they are taken; as are godwits, 
 knots, and gray-plover also, in the same man- 
 ner. When these birds are brought from 
 under the net, they are not killed immediate- 
 ly, but fattened for the table with bread and 
 milk, hemp-seed, and sometimes boiled wheat; 
 but if expedition be wanted, sugar is added, 
 which will make them a lump of fat in a fort- 
 night's time. They are kept, as observed be- 
 fore, in a dark room; and judgment is re- 
 quired in taking the proper time for killing 
 them, when they are at the highest pitch of 
 fatness: for if that is neglected, the birds are 
 apt to fall away. They are reckoned a very 
 great delicacy; they sell for two shillings, or 
 half-a-crown, a piece; and are served up to 
 the table with the train, like woodcocks, 
 where we will leave them. 
 
 4N 
 
572 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 CHAPTER CXXII. 
 
 OF THE WATER-HEN, AND THE COOT. 
 
 BEFORE we enter upon water-fowls, pro- 
 perly so called, two or three birds claim our 
 attention, which seem to form the shade be- 
 tween the web-footed tribe and those of the 
 crane kind. These partake rather of the form 
 than the habits of the crane ; and, though fur- 
 nished with long legs and necks, rather swim 
 than wade. They cannot properly be called 
 web-footed; nor yet are they entirely desti- 
 tute of membranes, which fringe their toes on 
 each side, and adapt them for swimming. 
 The birds in question are, the Water-Hen 
 and the Bald-Coot. 
 
 These birds have too near an affinity, not 
 to be ranked in the same description. They 
 are shaped entirely alike, their legs are long, 
 and their thighs partly bare; their necks are 
 proportionable, their wings short, their bills 
 short and weak, their colour black, their fore- 
 heads bald and without feathers, and their 
 habits entirely the same. These, however, 
 naturalists have thought proper to range in 
 different classes, from very slight distinctions 
 in their figure. The water-hen weighs but 
 fifteen ounces ; the coot twenty-four. The 
 bald part of the forehead in the coot is black; 
 in the water-hen it is of a beautiful pink co- 
 lour. The toes of the water-hen are edged 
 'with a straight membrane; those of the coot 
 have it scolloped and broader. 
 
 The differences in the figure are but slight; 
 and those in their manner of living still less. 
 The history of the one will serve for both. 
 As birds of the crane kind are furnished with 
 long wings, and easily change place, the wa- 
 ter-hen, whose wings are short, is obliged to 
 reside entirely near those places where her 
 food lies: she cannot take those long journeys 
 that most of the crane kind are seen to per- 
 form; compelled by her natural imperfections, 
 as well perhaps as by inclination, she never 
 leaves the side of the pond or the river in 
 which she seeks for provision. Where the 
 
 stream is selvaged with sedges, or the pond 
 edged with shrubby trees, the water-hen is 
 generally a resident there: she seeks her food 
 along the grassy banks, and often along the 
 surface of the water. With Shakspeare's Ed- 
 gar, she drinks the green mantle of the stand- 
 ing pool ; or, at least, seems to prefer those 
 places where it is seen. Whether she makes 
 pond-weed her food, or hunts among it for 
 water-insects, which are found there in great 
 abundance, is not certain. I have seen them 
 when pond-weed was taken out of their sto- 
 mach. She builds her nest upon low trees 
 and shrubs, of sticks and fibres, by the water- 
 side. Her eggs are sharp at one end, white, 
 with a tincture of green, spotted with red. 
 She lays twice or thrice in a summer; her 
 young ones swim the moment they leave the 
 egg, pursue their parent, and imitate all her 
 manners. She rears, in this manner, two or 
 three broods in a season: and when the young 
 are grown up, she drives them off to shift foe 
 themselves. 
 
 As the coot is a larger bird, it is always 
 seen in larger streams, and more remote from 
 mankind. The water-hen seems to prefer in- 
 habited situations: she keeps near ponds, 
 moats, and pools of water near gentlemen's 
 houses; but the coot keeps in rivers, and 
 among rushy margined lakes. It there makes 
 a nest of such weeds as the stream supplies, 
 and lays them among the reeds, floating on 
 the surface, and rising and falling with the 
 water. The reeds among which it is built 
 keep it fast; so that it is seldom washed into 
 the middle of the stream. But if this hap- 
 pens, which is sometimes the case, the bird 
 sits in her nest, like a mariner in his boat, 
 and steers with her legs her cargo into the 
 nearest harbour: there, having attained her 
 port, she continues to sit in great tranquillity, 
 rega dies of the impetuosity of the current; 
 and though the water penetrates her nest, 
 
GENVS PARKA 
 
 - 
 G.VAOINALJS 
 
 l.V. ttllm '... Jut'<i tut 3.r. - s '/"/'- 
 
 WHITE SHEATH BlfJ. CtTEfNrT JACANA <'HI.\.\.I. 
 
 G_K/LZ./.'~V 
 
 G.PSOFHIA 
 
 -,... -r^ ,-.- , 6.V.cnf>Oant 
 
 1^X11 RAIL VARIEliATED R. GOLD BREASTED TRUMPETER 
 
 . 7.-,l'^"ftJJ kj.l*b<vn: 
 
THE CRANE KIND. 
 
 573 
 
 she hatches her eggs in that wet condition. 
 The water-hen never wanders; but the 
 coot sometimes swims down the current, till 
 it even reaches the sea. In this voyage these 
 birds encounter a thousand dangers: as they 
 cannot fly far, they are hunted by dogs and 
 men ; as they never leave the stream, they 
 are attacked and destroyed by otters; they 
 are preyed upon by kites and falcons ; and 
 they are taken in still greater numbers in 
 weirs made for catching fish ; for these birds 
 are led into the nets, while pursuing small fish 
 and insects, which are their principal food. 
 Thus animated nature affords a picture of 
 universal invasion ! Man destroys the otter, 
 the otter destroys the coot, the coot feeds 
 upon fish, and fish are universally the tyrants 
 of each other! 
 
 To these birds, with long legs and finny 
 toes, I will add one species more, with short 
 legs and finny toes ; I mean the Grebe. The 
 entire resemblance of this bird's appetites 
 and manners to those of the web-footed class, 
 might justly induce me to rank it among them; 
 but as it resembles those above described, in 
 the peculiar form of its toes, and bears some 
 similitude in its manners also, I will for once 
 sacrifice method to brevity. The grebe is 
 much larger than either of the former, and its 
 plumage white and black ; it differs also en- 
 tirely in the shortness of its legs, which are 
 made for swimming, and not walking : in fact, 
 they arc from the knee upward hid in the belly 
 of the bird, and have consequently very little 
 motion. By this mark, and by the scolloped 
 
 fringe of the toes, may this bird be easily dis- 
 tinguished from all others. 
 
 As they are thus, from the shortness of their 
 wings, ill formed for flying, and from the un- 
 common shortness of their legs utterly unfit- 
 ted for walking, they seldom leave the water, 
 and chiefly frequent those broad shallow pools 
 where their faculty of swimming can be turn- 
 ed to the greatest advantage, in fishing and 
 seeking their prey. 
 
 They are chiefly, in this country, seen to 
 frequent the meres of Shropshire and Che- 
 shire ; where they breed among reeds and 
 flags, in a floating nest, kept steady by the 
 weeds of the margin. The female is said to 
 be a careful nurse of her young, being ob- 
 served to feed them most assiduously with 
 small eels ; and when the little brood is tired, 
 the mother will carry them either on her 
 back or under her wings. This bird preys 
 upon fish, and is almost perpetually diving. 
 It does not show much more than the head 
 above water; and is very difficult to be shot, 
 as it darts down on the appearance of the 
 least danger. It is never seen on land ; and, 
 though disturbed ever so often, will not leave 
 that lake, where alone, by diving and swim- 
 ming, it can find food and security. It is 
 chiefly sought for the skin of its breast, the 
 plumage of which is of a most beautiful sil- 
 very white, and as glossy as satin. This part 
 is made into tippets; but the skins are out of 
 season about February, losing their bright co- 
 lour; and in breeding-time their breasts are 
 entirely bare. 
 
574 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 OF WATER-FOWI, 
 
 CHAPTER CXX1II. 
 
 OF WATER-FOWL IN GENERAL. 
 
 IN settling the distinctions among the other 
 classes of birds, there was some difficulty ; one 
 tribe encroached so nearly upon the nature 
 and habitudes of another, that it was not easy 
 to draw the line which kept them asunder : 
 but in water-fowl, nature has marked them for 
 us by a variety of indelible characters ; so 
 that it would be almost as unlikely to mistake 
 a land-fowl for one adapted for living and 
 swimming among the waters, as a fish for a 
 bird. 
 
 The first great distinction in this class ap- 
 pears in the toes, which are webbed together 
 for swimming. Those who have remarked 
 the feet or toes of a duck, will easily conceive 
 how admirably they are formed for making 
 way in the water. When men swim, they do 
 not open the fingers, so as to let the fluid pass 
 through them ; but closing them together, pre- 
 sent one broad surface to beat back the water, 
 and thus push their bodies along. What man 
 performs by art, nature has supplied to water- 
 fowl ; and, by broad skins, has webbed their 
 toes together, so that they expand two broad oars 
 to the water; and thus, moving them alter- 
 nately, with the greatest case paddle along. 
 We must observe also, that the toes are so 
 contrived, that, as they strike backward, their 
 broadest hollow surface beats the water ; but 
 as they gather them in again, for a second 
 blow, their front surface contracts, and does 
 not impede the bird's progressive motion. 
 
 As their toes are webbed in the most con- 
 venient manner, so are their legs also made 
 most fitly for swift progression in the water. 
 The legs of all are short, except the three birds 
 described in a former chapter ; namely, the 
 flamingo, the avosetta, and the corrira: all 
 
 which, for that reason, I have thought proper 
 to rank among the crane kind, as they make 
 little use of their toes in swimming. Except 
 these, all web-footed birds have very short 
 legs; and these strike, while they swim, with 
 great facility. Were the leg long, it would 
 act like a lever whose prop is placed to a dis- 
 advantage ; its motions would be slow, and 
 the labour of moving it considerable. For 
 this reason, the very few birds whose webbed 
 feet are long, never make use of them in swim- 
 ming : the web at the bottom seems only of 
 service as a broad base, to prevent them from 
 sinking while they walk in the mud ; but it 
 otherwise rather retards than advances their 
 motion. 
 
 The shortness of the legs in the web-footed 
 kinds, renders them as unfit for walking on 
 land, as it qualifies them for swimming in their 
 natural element. Their stay, therefore, upon 
 land, is but short and transitory ; and they 
 seldom venture to breed far from the sides of 
 those waters where they usually remain. In 
 their breeding seasons, their young are brought 
 up by the water-side ; and they are covered 
 with a warm down, to fit them for the cold- 
 ness of their situation. The old ones, also, 
 have a closer, warmer plumage, than birds of 
 any other class. It is of their feathers that 
 our beds are composed ; as they neither mat, 
 nor imbibe humidity, but are furnished with 
 an animal oil that glazes their surface, and 
 keeps each separate. In some, however, this 
 animal oil is in too great abundance ; and is 
 as offensive from its smell, as it is serviceable 
 for the purposes of household economy. The 
 feathers, therefore, of all the penguin kind are 
 totally useless for domestic purposes; as neither 
 
WATER-FOWL. 
 
 575 
 
 boiling nor bleaching can divest them of their 
 oily rancidity. Indeed, the rancidity of all 
 new feathers, of whatever water-fowl they 
 be, is so disgusting, that our upholsterers 
 give near double the price for old feathers 
 that they afford for new : to be free from 
 smell, they must all be Iain upon for some 
 lime ; and their usual method is to mix the 
 new and the old together. 
 
 This quantity of oil, with which most water- 
 fowl are supplied, contributes also to their 
 warmth in the moist element where they re- 
 side. Their skin is generally lined with fat; 
 so that, with the warmth of the feathers ex- 
 ternally, and this natural lining more inter- 
 nally, they are better defended against the 
 changes or the inclemencies of the weather, 
 than any other class whatever. 
 
 As, among land-birds, there are some found 
 fitted entirely for depredation, and others for 
 an harmless method of subsisting upon vege- 
 tables, so also, among these birds, there are 
 tribes of plunderers that prey, riot only upon 
 fish, but sometimes upon water-fowl them- 
 selves. There are likewise more inoffensive 
 tribes, that live upon insects and vegetables 
 only. Some water-fowls subsist by making 
 sudden stoops from above, to seize whatever 
 fish come near the surface ; others again, not 
 furnished with wings long enough to fit them 
 for flight, take their prey by diving after it to 
 the bottom. 
 
 From hence all water-fowl naturally fall 
 into three distinctions. Those of the Gull 
 kind, that, with long legs and round bills, fly 
 along the surface to seize their prey: those 
 of the Penguin kind, that, with round bills, 
 legs hid in the abdomen, and short wings, 
 dive after their prey : and, thirdly, those of 
 the Goose kind, with flat broad bills, that lead 
 harmless lives, and chiefly subsist upon in- 
 sects and vegetables. 
 
 These are not speculative distinctions, 
 made up for the arrangement of a system; 
 
 but they are strongly and evidently marked 
 by nature. The Gull kind are active and ra- 
 pacious ; constantly, except when they breed, 
 keeping upon the wing; fitted for a life of 
 rapine, with sharp straight bills for piercing, 
 or hooked at the end for holding their fishy 
 prey. In this class we may rank the Alba- 
 tross, the Cormorant, the Gannet or Soland 
 Goose, the Shae^, the Frigate-bird, the Great 
 Brown Gull, and all the lesser tribe of gulls 
 and sea-swallows. 
 
 The Penguin kind, with appetites as vora- 
 cious, bills as sharp, and equally eager for 
 prey, are yet unqualified to obtain it by flight. 
 Their wings are short, and their bodies large 
 and heavy, so that they can neither run nor 
 fly. But they are formed for diving in a very 
 peculiar manner. Their feet are placed so 
 far backward, and their legs so hid in the 
 abdomen, that the slightest stroke sends them 
 head foremost to the bottom of the water. 
 To this class we may refer the Penguin, the 
 Auk, the Skout, the Sea-turtle, the Bottlenose. 
 and the Loon. 
 
 The Goose kind are easily distinguishable, 
 by their flat broad bills, covered with a skin; 
 and their manner of feeding, which is mostly 
 upon vegetables. In this class we may 
 place the Swan, the Goose, the Duck, the 
 Teal, the Widgeon, and all their numerous 
 varieties. 
 
 In describing the birds of these three 
 classes, I will put the most remarkable of 
 each class at the beginning of their respec- 
 tive tribes, and give their separate history ; 
 then, after having described the chiefs of the 
 tribe, the more ordinary sorts will naturally 
 fall in a body, and come under a general 
 description, behind their leaders. But be- 
 fore I offer to pursue this methodical arrange- 
 ment, I must give the history of a bird, that, 
 from the singularity of its conformation, seems 
 allied to no species ; and should, therefore, 
 be separately described I mean the Pelican. 
 
 
576 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 CHAPTER CXXIV. 
 
 OF THE PELICAN. 
 
 THE Pelican of Africa is much larger in 
 the body than a swan, and somewhat of the 
 same shape and colour. Its four toes are all 
 webbed together; and its neck, in some mea- 
 sure, resembles that of a swan: but that sin- 
 gularity in which it differs from all other birds, 
 is in the bill and the great pouch underneath, 
 which are wonderful, and demand a distinct 
 description. This enormous bill is fifteen in- 
 ches from the point to the opening of the 
 mouth, which is a good way back behind the 
 eyes. At the base, the bill is somewhat green- 
 ish, but varies towards the end, being of a 
 reddish-blue. It is very thick in the begin- 
 ning, but tapers off to the end, where it hooks 
 downwards. The under chap is still more 
 extraordinary ; for to the lower edges of it 
 hangs a bag, reaching the whole length of the 
 bill to the neck, which is said to be capable 
 of containing fifteen quarts of water. This 
 bag the bird has.a power of wrinkling up into 
 the hollow of the under chap; but by open- 
 ing the bill, and putting one's hand down into 
 the bag, it may be distended at pleasure. 
 The skin of which it is formed will then be 
 seen of a bluish ash-colour, with many fibres 
 and veins running over its surface. It is not 
 covered with feathers, but a short downy sub- 
 stance, as smooth and as soft as satin, and is 
 attached all along the under edges of the chap, 
 to be fixed backward to the neck of the bird 
 by proper ligaments, and reaches near half 
 way down. When this bag is empty it is not 
 seen; but when the bird has fished with suc- 
 cess, it is then incredible to what an extent 
 it is often seen dilated. For the first thing 
 the pelican does in fishing is to fill up the bag; 
 and then it returns to digest its burden at lei- 
 sure. When the bill is open to its widest ex- 
 tent, a person may run his head into the bird's 
 mouth, and conceal it in this monstrous pouch, 
 thus adapted for very singular purposes. . Yet 
 this is nothing to what Ruysch assureS^tes, 
 who avers, that a man has been seen to hide 
 
 his whole leg, boot and all, in the monstrous 
 jaws of one of these animals. At first appear- 
 ance this would seem impossible, as the sides 
 of the under chap, from which the bag de- 
 pends, are not above an inch asunder when 
 the bird's bill is first opened; but then they 
 are capable of great separation; and it must 
 necessarily be so, as the bird preys upon the 
 largest fishes, and hides them by dozens in 
 its pouch. Tertre affirms, that it will hide as 
 many fish as will serve sixty hungry men for 
 a meal. 
 
 Such is the formation of this extraordinary 
 bird, which is a native of Africa and America. 
 The pelican was once also known in Europe, 
 particularly in Russia; but it seems to have 
 deserted our coasts. This is the bird of 
 which so many fabulous accounts have been 
 propagated ; such as its feeding its young with 
 its own blood, and its carrying a provision of 
 water for them in its great reservoir in the 
 desert. But the absurdity of the first ac- 
 count answers itself; and as for the latter, 
 the pelican uses its bag for very different pur- 
 poses than that of filling it with water. 
 
 Its amazing pouch may be considered as 
 analogous to the crop in other birds, with this 
 difference, that as theirs lies at the bottom" of 
 the gullet, so this is placed at the top. Thus, 
 as pigeons and other birds macerate their 
 food for their young in their crops, and then 
 supply them, so the pelican supplies its young 
 by a more ready contrivance, and macerates 
 their food in its bill, or stores it for its own 
 particular sustenance. 
 
 The ancients were particularly fond of 
 giving this bird admirable qualities and pa- 
 rental affections ; struck, perhaps, with its ex- 
 traordinary figure, they were willing to sup- 
 ply it with as extraordinary appetites; and 
 having found it with a large reservoir, they 
 were pleased with turning it to the most ten- 
 der and parental uses. But the truth is, the 
 pelican is a very heavy, sluggish, voracious 
 
7Jwn A, 
 
 G.PELECANUS 
 
 ( Teleran 
 
 \.7.ErvtJtroryncltof 2F. Sula \'> .P. .tyra/n 
 
 R 0.10^1 Billed P. .- BoolyF.- Tn^aie F. 
 
 ( Barter ) 
 
 \J?. puiHtatus S.I' nulanoyasutr. 
 Spotted Shag BlackBellied B._ 
 

WATER- FOWL. 
 
 577 
 
 bird, and very ill fitted to take those flights, 
 or to make those cautious provisions lor a dis- 
 tant time, which we have been told they do. 
 Father Labat, who seems to have studied 
 their manners with great exactness, has given 
 us a minute history of this bird, as found in 
 America; and from him I will borrow mine. 
 
 The pelican, says Labat, has strong wings, 
 furnished with thick plumage of an ash-colour, 
 as are the rest of the feathers over the whole 
 body. Its eyes are very small, when com- 
 pared to the size of its head; there is a sad- 
 ness in its countenance, and its whole air is 
 melancholy. It is as dull and reluctant in 
 its motions, as the flamingo is sprightly and 
 active. It is slow of flight; and when it rises 
 to fly, performs it with difficulty and labour. 
 Nothing, as it would seem, but the spur of ne- 
 cessity could make these birds change their 
 situation, or induce them to ascend into the 
 air; but they must either starve or fly. 
 
 They are torpid and inactive to the last 
 degree, so that nothing can exceed their in- 
 dolence but their gluttony ; it is only from 
 the stimulations of hunger that they are ex- 
 cited to labour; for otherwise they would 
 continue always in fixed repose. When they 
 have raised themselves about thirty or forty 
 feet above the surface of the sea, they turn 
 their head with one eye downwards, and con- 
 tinue to fly in that posture. As soon as they 
 perceive a fish sufficiently near the surface, 
 they dart down upon it with the swiftness of 
 an arrow, seize it with unerring certainty, and 
 store it up in their pouch. They then rise 
 again, though not without great labour, and 
 continue hovering and fishing, with their head 
 on one side as before. 
 
 This work they continue with great effort 
 and industry till their bag is full, and then 
 they fly to land, to devour and digest at lei- 
 sure the fruits of their industry. This, how- 
 ever, it would appear, they are not long in 
 performing; for towards night they have ano- 
 ther hungry call, and they again reluctantly 
 go to labour. At night, when their fishing is 
 over, and the toil of the day crowned with 
 success, these lazy birds retire a little way 
 from the shore; and, though with the webbed 
 feet and clumsy figure of a goose, they will he 
 contented to perch no where but upon trees, 
 among the light and airy tenants of the forest. 
 
 There they take their repose for the night; 
 and often spend a great part of the day, ex- 
 cept such times as they are fishing, sitting in 
 dismal solemnity, and, as it would seem, half 
 asleep. Their attitude is, with the head rest- 
 ing upon their great bag, and that resting upon 
 their breast. There they remain without mo- 
 tion, or once changing their situation, till the 
 calls of hunger break their repose, and till 
 they find it indispensably necessary to fill 
 their magazine for a fresh meal. Thus their 
 life is spent between sleeping and eating ; and 
 our author adds, that they are as foul as they 
 are voracious, as they are every moment void- 
 ing excrements in heaps as large as one's fist. 
 
 The same indolent habits seem to attend 
 them even in preparing for incubation, and 
 defending their young when excluded. The 
 female makes no preparation for her nest, nor 
 seems to choose any j>lace in preference to 
 lay in ; but drops her eggs on the bare ground 
 to the number of five or six, and there con- 
 tinues to hatch them. Attached to the place, 
 without any desire of defending her eggs or 
 her young, she tamely sits, and suffers them 
 to be taken from under her. Now and then 
 she just ventures to peck, or to cry out when 
 a person offers to beat her ofF. 
 
 She feeds her young with fish macerated for 
 some time in her bag; and when they cry, 
 flies off for a new supply. Labat tells us, that 
 he took two of these when very young, and 
 tied them by the leg to a post stuck into the 
 ground, where he had the pleasure of seeing 
 the old one for several days come to feed 
 them, remaining with them the greatest part 
 of the day, and spending the night on the 
 branch of a tree that hung over them. By 
 these means they were all three become so 
 familiar, that they suffered themselves to be 
 handled ; and the young ones very kindly ac- 
 cepted whatever fish he offered them. These 
 they always put first into their bag, and then 
 swallowed at their leisure. 
 
 It seems, however, that they are but dis- 
 agreeable and useless domestics; their glut- 
 tony can scarcely be satisfied ; their flesh 
 smells very rancid; and tastes a thousand 
 times worse than it smells. The native Ame- 
 ricans kill vast numbers ; not to eat, for they 
 are not fit even for the banquet of a savage ; 
 but to convert their large bags into purses 
 
578 
 
 A HISTORY OF WATER-FOWL. 
 
 and tobacco pouches. They bestow no small 
 pains in dressing the skin with salt and ashes, 
 rubbing it well with oil, and then forming it 
 to their purpose. It thus becomes so soft and 
 pliant, that the Spanish women sometimes 
 adorn it with gold and embroidery to make 
 work-bags of. 
 
 Yet, with all the seeming hebetude of this 
 bird, it is not entirely incapable of instruction 
 in a domestic state. Father Raymond assures 
 us, that he has seen one so tame and well 
 educated among the native Americans, that it 
 would go off in the morning at the word of 
 command, and return before night to its mas- 
 ter, with its great pouch distended with plun- 
 der ; a part of which the savages would make 
 it disgorge, and a part they would permit it to 
 reserve for itself. 
 
 " The Pelican," as Faber relates, " is not 
 destitute of other qualifications. One of those 
 which was brought aHve to the duke of 
 Bavaria's court, where it lived forty years, 
 
 seemed to be possessed of very uncommon 
 sensations. It was much delighted in the 
 company and conversation of men, and in 
 music both vocal and instrumental : for it 
 would willingly stand," says he, " by those 
 that sung, or sounded the trumpet; and 
 stretching out its head, and turning its ear to 
 the music, listened very attentively to its har- 
 mony ; though its own voice was little plea- 
 santer than the braying of an ass." Gesner 
 tells us, that the emperor Maximilian had a 
 tame pelican, which lived for above eighty 
 years, and that always attended his army on 
 their march. It was one of the largest of the 
 kind, and had a daily allowance by the em- 
 peror's orders. As another proof of the great 
 age to which the pelican lives, Aldrovandus 
 makes mention of one of these birds that 
 was kept several years at Mechlin, was 
 verily believed to be fifty years old. We 
 often sec these birds at our shows about 
 town, 
 
 
A HISTORY OF WATER-FOWL. 
 
 579 
 
 CHAPTER CXXV. 
 
 OF THE ALBATROSS, THE FIRST OF THE GULL KIND. 
 
 THOUGH this is one of the largest and 
 most formidable birds of Africa and America, 
 yet we have but few accounts to enlighten us 
 in its history. The figure of the bird is thus 
 described by Edwards : " The body is rather 
 larger than that of a pelican ; and its wings, 
 when extended, ten feet from tip to tip. The 
 bill, which is six inches long, is yellowish, and 
 terminates in a crooked point. The top of 
 the head is of a bright brown ; the back is of 
 a dirty deep spotted brown ; and the belly 
 and under the wings is white ; the toes, which 
 are webbed, are of a flesh colour." 
 
 Such are the principal traits in this bird's 
 figure : but these lead us a very short way in 
 its history ; and our naturalists have thought 
 fit to say nothing more. However, I am apt 
 to believe this bird to be the same with that 
 described by Wicquefort, under the title of 
 the Alcatraz ; its size, its colours, and its prey, 
 incline me to think so. He describes it as a 
 kind of great gull, as large in the body as a 
 goose, of a brown colour, with a long bill, 
 and living upon fish, of which they kill great 
 numbers. 
 
 This bird is an inhabitant of the tropical 
 climates, and also beyond them as far as the 
 Straits of Magellan in the South Seas. It is 
 one of the most fierce and formidable of the 
 aquatic tribe, not only living upon fish, but 
 also such small water-fowl as it can take by 
 surprise. It preys, as all the gull kind do, 
 upon the wing ; and chiefly pursues the flying- 
 fish, that are forced from the sea by the dol- 
 phins. The ocean in that part of the world 
 presents a very different appearance from the 
 seas with which we are surrounded. In our 
 seas we see nothing but a dreary expanse, 
 ruffled by winds, and seemingly forsaken by 
 every class of animated nature. But the tro- 
 pical seas, and the distant southern latitudes 
 beyond them, are all alive with birds and 
 fishes, pursuing and pursued. Every various 
 species of the gull kind are there seen hover- 
 ing on the wing, at a thousand miles distance 
 
 NO. 49 & 50. 
 
 from the shore. The flying-fish are every 
 moment rising to escape from their pursuers 
 of the deep, only to encounter equal dangers 
 in the air. Just as they rise the dolphin is 
 seen to dart after them, but generally in vain ; 
 the gull has more frequent success, and often 
 takes them at their rise ; while the albatross 
 pursues the gull, and obliges it to relinquish 
 its prey ; so that the whole horizon presents 
 but one living picture of rapacity and evasion. 
 
 So much is certain ; but how far we are to 
 credit Wicquefort, in what he adds concern 
 ing this bird, the reader is loft to determine. 
 " As these birds, except when they breed, live 
 entirely remote from land, so they are often 
 seen, as it should seem, sleeping in the air. 
 At night, when they are pressed by slumber, 
 they rise into the clouds as high as they can ; 
 there, putting their head under one wing, they 
 beat the air with the other, and seem to take 
 their ease. After a time, however, the weight 
 of their bodies, only thus half supported, brings 
 them down ; and they are seen descending, 
 with a pretty rapid motion, to the surface of 
 the sea. Upon this they again put forth their 
 efforts to rise ; and thus alternately ascend and 
 descend at their case. But it sometimes hap- 
 pens," says my author, " that in these slum- 
 bering flights, they are off their guard, and 
 fall upon deck, where they are taken." 
 
 What truth there may be in this account I 
 will not take it upon me to determine : but 
 certain it is, that few birds float upon the air 
 with more ease than the albatross, or support 
 themselves a longer time in that element. 
 They seem never to feel the accesses of fatigue; 
 but, night and day upon the wing, are al- 
 ways prowling, yet always emaciated and 
 hungry. 
 
 But though this bird be one of the most for- 
 midable tyrants of the deep, there are some 
 associations which even tyrants themselves 
 form, to which they are induced either by 
 caprice or necessity. The albatross seems to 
 have a peculiar affection for the penguin, and 
 
 40 
 
580 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 a pleasure in its society. They are always 
 seen to choose the same places for breeding ; 
 some distant uninhabited island, where the 
 ground slants to the sea, as the penguin is not 
 iormed either for flying or climbing. In such 
 places their nests are seen together, as if they 
 stood in need of mutual assistance and pro- 
 tection. Captain Hunt, who for some time 
 commanded at our settlement upon Falkland 
 Islands, assures me, that he was often amazed 
 at the union preserved between these birds, 
 and the regularity with which they built to- 
 gether. In that bleak and desolate spot, where 
 the birds had long continued undisturbed pos- 
 sessors-, and no way dreaded the encroachment 
 of men, they seemed to make their abode as 
 comfortable as they expected it to be lasting. 
 
 They were seen to build with an amazing 
 degree of uniformity ; their nests covering 
 fields by thousands, and resembling a regular 
 plantation. In the middle, on high, the alba- 
 tross raised its nest, on heath, sticks, and long 
 grass, about two feet above the surface: round 
 this the penguins made their lower settlements, 
 rather in holes in the ground, and most usual- 
 ly eight penguins to one albatross. Nothing 
 is a stronger proof of Mr. Buffon's fine obser- 
 vation, that the presence of nmn not only de- 
 stroys the society of meaner animals, but their 
 instincts also. These nests are now, I am 
 told, totally destroyed ; the society is broke 
 up ; and the albatross and penguin have gone 
 to breed upon more desert shores, in greater 
 security * 
 
 CHAPTER CXXVI. 
 
 THE CORMORANT. 
 
 THE Cormorant is about the size of a 
 large Muscovy duck, and may be distinguish- 
 ed from all other birds of this kind, by its 
 four toes being united by membranes together; 
 and by the middle-toe being toothed or notch- 
 ed like a saw, to assist it in holding its fishy 
 prey. The head and neck of this bird are of 
 a sooty blackness ; and the body thick and 
 heavy, more inclining in figure to that of the 
 goose than the gull. The bill is straight, till 
 near the end, where the upper chap bends 
 into a hook. 
 
 But notwithstanding the seeming heaviness 
 of its make, there are few birds more power- 
 fully predaceous. As soon as the winter ap* 
 proaches, they are seen dispersed along the 
 sea-shore, and ascending up the mouths of 
 fresh- water rivers, carrying destruction to all 
 the finny tribe. They are most remarkably 
 voracious, and have a most sudden digestion. 
 
 a The Albatross, or man of war bird, bas a straight 
 bill, the upper mandible of which is crooked at the point, 
 and the lower one truncated : the nostrils are oval, wide, 
 prominent, and placed on each side the bill : the feet have 
 three toes, all placed forwards. In the West Indies these 
 birds are said to foretell the arrival of ships : which is fre- 
 quently true, and may arise from a very natural cause. 
 
 Their appetite is for ever craving, and never 
 satisfied. This gnawing sensation may pro- 
 bably be increased by the great quantity of 
 small worms that fill their intestines, and 
 which their unceasing gluttony contributes to 
 engender. 
 
 Thus formed with the grossest appetites, this 
 unclean bird has the most rank and disagree- 
 able smell, and is more foetid than even carri- 
 on, when in its most healthful state. Its form, 
 says an ingenious modern, is disagreeable; its 
 voice is hoarse and croaking; and all its 
 qualities obscene. No wonder then that Mil- 
 ton should make Satan personate this bird, 
 when he sent him upon the basest purposes, 
 to survey with pain the beauties of Paradise, 
 and to sit devising death on the tree of life. b 
 It has been remarked, however, of our poet, 
 that the making a water-fowl perch upon a 
 tree, implied no great acquaintance with the 
 
 They always fish in fine weather ; so that, when the wind 
 is rough at sea, they retire into the harbours, where they 
 are protected by the land ; and the same wind that blows 
 them-in, brings likewise whatever vessels may be exposed 
 to its fury, to seek a retreat from it. 
 b Vide Pennant's Zoology, p. 477- 
 
WATER-FOWL. 
 
 581 
 
 history of nature. In vindication of Milton, 
 Aristotle expressly says, that the cormorant is 
 the only water-fowl that sits on trees. We 
 have already seen the pelican of this number; 
 and the cormorant's toes seem as fit for perch- 
 ing upon trees as for swimming ; so that our 
 epic bard seems to have been as deeply versed 
 in natural history as in criticism. 
 
 Indeed this bird seems to be of a multiform 
 nature; and wherever fish are to be found, 
 watches their migrations. It is seen as well 
 by land as sea ; it fishes in fresh-water lakes, 
 as well as in the depths of the ocean ; it builds 
 in the cliffs of rocks, as well as on trees; 
 and preys not only in the day-time, but by 
 night. 
 
 Its indefatigable nature, and its great power 
 in catching fish, were probably the motives 
 that induced some nations to breed this bird 
 up tame, for the purposes of fishing ; and 
 Willoughby assures us, it was once used in 
 England for that purpose. The description 
 of their manner of fishing is thus delivered by 
 Faber. " When they carry them out of the 
 rooms where they are kept, to the fish-pools, 
 they hoodwink them, that they may not be 
 frighted by the way. When they are come to 
 the rivers, they take off their hood ; and hav- 
 ing tied a leather thong round the lower part 
 of their necks, that they may not swallow 
 down the fish they catch, they throw them 
 into the river. They presently dive under 
 water ; and there for a long time, with won- 
 derful swiftness, pursue the fish ; and when 
 they have caught them, rise to the top of the 
 water, and pressing the fish lightly with their 
 bills, swallow them ; till each bird hath, after 
 this manner, devoured five or six fishes. 
 Then their keepers call them to the fist, to 
 which they readily fly; and, one after another, 
 vomit up all their fish, a little bruised with 
 the first nip, given in catching them. When 
 they have done fishing, setting the birds on 
 some high place, they loose the string from 
 their necks, leaving the passage to the stomach 
 free and open ; and, for their reward, they 
 throw them part of their prey ; to each one or 
 two fishes, which they will catch most dexter- 
 ously, as they are falling in the air." 
 
 At present, the cormorant is trained up in 
 every part of China for the same purpose, 
 where there are many lakes and canals. " To 
 this end," says Le Compte, " they are edu- 
 
 cated as men rear up spaniels or hawks, and 
 one man can easily manage a hundred. The 
 fisher carries them out into the lake, perched 
 on the gunnel of his boat, where they continue 
 tranquil, and expecting hisorders with patience. 
 When arrived at the proper place, at the first 
 signal given each flies a different way to fulfil 
 the task assigned it. It is very pleasant, on 
 this occasion, to behold with what sagacity 
 they portion out the lake or the canal where 
 they are upon duty. They hunt about, they 
 plunge, they rise an hundred times to the sur- 
 face, until they have at last found their prey. 
 They then seize it with their beak by the 
 middle, and carry it without fail to their mas- 
 ter. When the fish is too large, they then 
 give each other mutual assistance : one seizes 
 it by the head, the other by the tail, and in 
 this manner carry it to the boat together. 
 There the boat-man stretches out one of his 
 long oars, on which they perch, and being 
 delivered of their burden, they fly off to pursue 
 their sport. When they are wearied, he lets 
 them rest for a while ; but they are never fed 
 till their work is over. In this manner they 
 supply a very plentiful table ; but still their 
 natural gluttony cannot be reclaimed even by 
 education. They have always, while they 
 fish, the same string fastened round their 
 throats, to prevent them from devouring their 
 prey, as otherwise they would at once satiate 
 themselves, and discontinue their pursuit the 
 moment they had filled their bellies." 
 
 As for the rest, the cormorant is the best 
 fisher of all birds ; and though fat and heavy 
 with the quantity it devours, is nevertheless 
 generally upon the wing. The great activity 
 with which it pursues, and from a vast hefght 
 drops down to dive after its prey, offers one of 
 the most amusing spectacles to those who 
 stand upon a cliff on the shore. This large 
 bird is seldom seen in the air, but where there 
 are fish below ; but then they must be near 
 the surface, before it will venture to souse 
 upon them. If they are at a depth beyond 
 what the impetus of its flight makes the cor- 
 morant capable of diving to, they certainly 
 escape him ; for this bird cannot move so fast 
 under water, as the fish can swim. It seldom, 
 however, makes an unsuccessful dip; and is 
 often seen rising heavily, with a fish larger 
 than it can readily devour. It sometimes also 
 happens, that the cormorant has caught the 
 
 4O* 
 
582 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 fish by the tail; and consequently the fins 
 prevent its being easily swallowed in that 
 position. 
 
 In this case, the bird is seen to toss 
 
 its prey above its head, and very dexterously to 
 catch it, when descending, by the proper end, 
 and so swallow it with ease." 
 
 CHAPTER CXXVII. 
 
 OF THE GANNET, OR SOLAND GOOSE. 
 
 THE Gannet is of the size of a tame goose, 
 but its wings much longer, being six feet over. 
 The bill is six inches long, straight almost to 
 the point, where it inclines down, and the 
 sides are irregularly jagged, that it may hold 
 its prey with greater security. It differs from 
 the cormorant in size, being larger ; and its 
 colour, which is chiefly white ; and by its 
 having no nostrils, but in their place a long 
 furrow that reaches almost to the end of the 
 bill. From the corner of the mouth is a nar- 
 row slip of black bare skin, that extends to the 
 hind part of the head ; beneath the skin is 
 another that, like the pouch of the pelican, is 
 dilatable, and of size sufficient to contain five 
 or six entire herrings, which in the breeding 
 season it carries at once to its mate or its 
 young. 
 
 These birds, which subsist entirely upon 
 fish, chiefly resort to those uninhabited islands 
 where their food is found in plenty, and men 
 seldom come to disturb them. The islands to 
 the north of Scotland, the Skelig islands off 
 the coasts of Kerry in Ireland, and those that 
 lie in the north sea off Norway, abound with 
 them. But it is on the Bass island, in the 
 Frith of Edinburgh, where they are seen in 
 the greatest abundance. " There is a small 
 island," says the celebrated Harvey, " called 
 the Bass, not more than a mile in circum- 
 ference. The surface is almost wholly cover- 
 ed during the months of May and June with 
 their nests, their eggs, and young. It is scarce- 
 ly possible to walk without treading on them : 
 the flocks of birds upon the wing are so nu- 
 merous, as to darken the air like a cloud ; 
 and their noise is such, that one cannot with- 
 
 These birds build their nests on the highest parts of 
 the chfls that hang over the sea: they lay three or more 
 l>ale green eggs, about the size of those of a goose. In 
 
 out difficulty be heard by the person next to 
 him. When one looks down upon the sea 
 from the precipice, its whole surface seems 
 covered with infinite numbers of birds of dif- 
 ferent kinds, swimming and pursuing their 
 prey. If, in sailing round the island, one 
 surveys its hanging cliffs, in every crag, or 
 fissure of the broken rocks, may be seen innu- 
 merable birds, of various sorts and sizes, more 
 than the stars of heaven, when viewed in a 
 serene night. If they are viewed at a dis- 
 tance, either receding, or in their appproach 
 to the island, they seem like one vast swarm 
 of bees." 
 
 They are not less frequent upon the rocks 
 of St. Kilda. Martin assures us, that the 
 inhabitants of that small island consume annu- 
 ally near twenty-three thousand young birds' 
 of this species, besides an amazing quantity of 
 their eggs. On these they principally subsist 
 throughout the year ; and from the number of 
 these visitants, make an estimate of their plenty 
 for the season. They preserve both the eggs 
 and fowls in small pyramidal stone buildings, 
 covering them with turf ashes, to prevent the 
 evaporation of their moisture. 
 
 The gannet is a bird of passage. In winter 
 it seeks the more southern coasts of Cornwall, 
 hovering over the shoals of herrings and pil- 
 chards that then come down from the north- 
 ern seas ; its first appearance in the northern 
 islands is in the beginning of spring ; and it 
 continues to breed till the end of summer. 
 But, in general, its motions are determined by 
 the migrations of the immense shonls of her- 
 rings that come pouring down at that season 
 through the British Channel, an<I supply all 
 
 winter they disperse themselves along the shores, visiting 
 the fresh-water ponds and lakes, where they commit great 
 depredations among the fish. 
 
WATER-FOWL. 
 
 583 
 
 Europe, as well as this bird, with their spoil. 
 The gannet assiduously attends the shoal in 
 their passage, keeps with them in their whole 
 circuit round our island, and shares with our 
 fishermen this exhaustless banquet. As it is 
 strong of wing, it never comes near the land; 
 but is constant to its prey. Wherever the 
 gannet is seen, it is sure to announce to the 
 fishermen the arrival of the finny tribe : they 
 (her. prepare their nets, and take the herrings 
 by millions at a draught; while the gannet, 
 who came to give the first information, comes, 
 though an unbidden guest, and often snatches 
 its prey from the fisherman even in his boat. 
 While the fishing season continues, the gan- 
 nets are busily employed ; but when the pil- 
 chards disappear from our coasts, the gannet 
 takes its leave to keep them company. 
 
 The cormorant has been remarked for the 
 quickness of his sight; yet in this the gannet 
 seems to exceed him. It is possessed of a 
 transparent membrane under the eye-lid, with 
 which it covers the whole eye at pleasure, 
 without obscuring the sight in the smallest 
 degree. This seems a necessary provision 
 for the security of the eyes of so weighty a 
 creature, whose method of taking its prey, 
 like I hat of the cormorant,, is by darting head- 
 long down from a height of a hundred feet 
 and more into the water to seize it. These 
 
 birds are sometimes taken at sea, by fasten- 
 ing a pilchard to a board, which they leave 
 floating. The gannet instantly pounces down 
 from above upon the board, and is killed or 
 maimed by the shock of a body where it 
 expected no resistance." 
 
 These birds breed but once a year, and lay 
 but one egg, which being taken away, they 
 lay another; if that is also taken, then a third; 
 but never more for that season. Their egg 
 is white, arid rather less than that of the com- 
 mon goose ; and their nest large, composed 
 of such substances as are found floating on 
 the surface of the sea. The young birds, 
 during the first year, differ greatly in colour 
 from the old ones; being of a dusky hue, 
 speckled with numerous triangular white 
 spots ; and at that time resembling the co- 
 lours of the speckled diver. 
 
 The Bass island, where they chiefly breed, 
 belongs to one proprietor; so that care is tar 
 ken never to fright away the birds when lay- 
 ing, or to shoot them upon the wing. By 
 that means, they are so confident as to alight 
 and feed their young ones close beside you. 
 They feed only upon fish, as was observed; 
 yet the young gannet is counted a great dain- 
 ty by the Scots, and is sold very dear; so 
 that the lord of the islet makes a considera- 
 ble annual profit by the sale. 
 
 CHAPTER CXXVI1L 
 
 OF THE SMALLER GULLS AND PETRELS. 
 
 HAVING described the manners of the 
 great ones of this tribe, those of the smaller 
 kinds may be easily inferred. They resem- 
 ble the more powerful in their appetites for 
 prey, but have not such certain methods of 
 obtaining it. In general, therefore, the in- 
 dustry of this tribe, and their audacity, in- 
 crease in proportion to their imbecility; the 
 great gulls live at the most remote distance 
 
 Mr. Pennant says, that one of these birds flying over 
 Penzance in Cornwall, saw some pilchards lying on a fir 
 plank, where they had been placed for curing ; and dart- 
 
 from man ; the smaller are obliged to reside 
 wherever they can take their prey ; and to 
 come into the most populous places, when so- 
 litude can no longer grant them a supply. In 
 this class we may place the Gull, properly so 
 called, of which there are above twenty dif- 
 ferent kinds ; the Petrel, of which there are 
 three ; and the Sea-swallow, of which there 
 are as many. The gulls may be distinguish- 
 ing itself down with great violence, it struck its bill quite 
 through an inch and quarter plank* it was killed on the 
 spot. 
 
584 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 ed by an angular knob on the lower chap ; 
 the petrels by their wanting this knob ; and 
 the sea-swallow by their bills, which are 
 straight, slender, and sharp-pointed. They 
 all, however, agree in their appetites, and 
 their places of abode. 
 
 The gull, and all its varieties, is very well 
 known in every part of the kingdom. It is 
 seen with a slow-sailing flight, hovering over 
 rivers to prey upon the smaller kinds offish; 
 it is seen following the ploughman in fallow 
 fields to pick up insects ; and when living ani- 
 mal food does not offer, it has been known to 
 eat carrion, and whatever else of the kind that 
 offers. Gulls are found in great plenty in 
 every place ; but it is chiefly rqund our bold- 
 est rockiest shores that they are seen in the 
 greatest abundance; it is there that the gull 
 breeds and brings up its young; it is there 
 that millions of them are heard screaming 
 with discordant notes for months together. 
 
 Those who have been much upon our coasts 
 know that there are two different kinds of 
 shores; that which slants down to the water 
 with a gentle declivity, and that which rises 
 with a precipitate boldness, and seems set as 
 a bulwark to repel the force of the invading 
 deeps. It is to such shores as these that the 
 whole tribe of the gull-kind resort, as the 
 rocks offer them a retreat for their young, 
 and the sea a sufficient supply. It is in the 
 cavities of these rocks, of which the shore is 
 composed, that the vast variety of sea-fowls 
 retire to breed in safety. The waves be- 
 neath, that continually beat at the base, often 
 wear the shore into an impending boldness; 
 so that it seems to jut out over the water, 
 while the raging of the sea makes the place 
 inaccessible from below. These are the si- 
 tuations to which sea-fowl chiefly resort, and 
 bring up their young in undisturbed security. 
 
 Those who have never observed our bold- 
 est coasts, have no idea of their tremendous 
 sublimity. The boasted works of art, the 
 highest towers, an,d the noblest domes, are 
 but ant-hills when put in comparison : the 
 single cavity of a rock often exhibits a coping 
 higher than the ceiling of a Gothic Cathedral. 
 The face of the shore offers to the view a wall 
 of massive stone, ten times higher than our 
 tallest steeples. What should we think of a 
 precipice three quarters of a mile in height ? 
 
 and yet the rocks of St. Kilda are still higher! 
 What must be our awe to approach the edge 
 of that impending height, and to look down 
 on the unfathomable vacuity below ; to pon- 
 der on the terrors of falling to the bottom, 
 where the waves that swell like mountains 
 are scarcely seen to curl on the surface, and 
 the roar of an ocean a thousand leagues broad 
 appears softer than the murmur of a brook ! 
 it is in these formidable mansions that my- 
 riads of sea-fowls are for ever seen sporting, 
 flying in security down the depth, half a mile 
 beneath the feet of the spectator. The crow 
 and the chough avoid those frightful precipi- 
 ces ; they choose smaller heights, where they 
 are less exposed to the tempest; it is the cor- 
 morant, the gannet, the tarrock, and the terne, 
 that venture to these dreadful retreats, and 
 claim an undisturbed possession. To the 
 spectator from above, those birds, though 
 some of them are above the size of an eagle, 
 seem scarcely as large as a swallow; and 
 their loudest screaming is scarcely percep- 
 tible. 
 
 But the generality of our shores are not so 
 formidable. Though they may rise two hun- 
 dred fathoms above the surface, yet it often 
 happens that the water forsakes the shore at 
 the departure of the tide, and leaves a noble 
 and delightful walk for curiosity on the beach. 
 Not to mention the variety of shells with 
 which the sand is strewed, the lofty rocks that 
 hang over the spectator's head, and that seem 
 but just kept from falling, produce in him no 
 unpleasing gloom. If to this be added the 
 fluttering, the screaming, and the pursuits of 
 myriads of water-birds, all either intent on 
 the duties of incubation, or roused at the pre- 
 sence of a stranger, nothing can compose a 
 scene of more peculiar solemnity. To walk 
 along the shore when the tide is departed, or 
 to sit in the hollow of a rock when it is 
 come in, attentive to the various sounds that 
 gather on every side, above and below, may 
 raise the mind to its highest and noblest ex- 
 ertions. The solemn roar of the waves 
 swelling into and subsiding from the vast ca- 
 verns beneath, the piercing note of the gull, 
 the frequent chatter of the guillemot, the loud 
 note of the hawk, the scream of the heron, 
 and the hoarse deep periodical croaking of 
 the cormorant, all unite to furnish out the 
 
WATER-FOWL. 
 
 585 
 
 grandeur of the scene, and turn the mind to 
 HIM who is the essence of all sublimity. 
 
 Yet it often happens that the contempla- 
 tion of a sea-shore produces ideas of an hum- 
 bler kind, yet still not unpleasing. The vari- 
 ous arts of these birds to seize their prey, 
 and sometimes to elude their pursuers, their 
 society among each other, and their tender- 
 ness and care of their young, produce gentler 
 sensations. It is ridiculous also now and then 
 to see their various ways of imposing upon 
 each other. It is common enongh,for instance, 
 with the arctic gull, to pursue the lesser gulls 
 so long, that they drop their excrements 
 through fear, which the hungry hunter quick- 
 ly gobbles up before it ever reaches the 
 water. In breeding too they have frequent 
 contests ; one bird who has no nest of her 
 own, attempts to dispossess another, and puts 
 herself in the place. This often happens 
 among all the gull kind : and I have seen the 
 poor bird, thus displaced by her more pow- 
 erful invader, sit near the nest in pensive dis- 
 content, while the other seemed quite com- 
 fortable in her new habitation. Yet this 
 place of pre-eminence is not easily obtained; 
 for the instant the invader goes to snatch a 
 momentary sustenance, the other enters upon 
 her own, and always ventures another battle 
 before she relinquishes the justness of her 
 claim. The contemplation of a cliff thus 
 covered with hatching-birds, affords a very 
 agreeable entertainment ; and as they sit 
 upon the ledges of the rocks, one above 
 another, with their white breasts forward, 
 the whole group has not unaptly been com- 
 pared to an apothecary's shop. 
 
 These birds, like all others of the rapaci- 
 ous kind, lay but few eggs; and hence, in 
 many places, their number 'is daily seen to 
 diminish. The lessening of so many rapa- 
 cious birds may, at first sight, appear a bene- 
 fit to mankind ; but when we consider how 
 many of the natives of our islands are sustain- 
 ed by their flesh, either fresh or salted, we 
 shall find no satisfaction in thinking that these 
 poor people may in time lose their chief sup- 
 port. The 
 
 jull, in 
 
 builds on the ledges o 
 one egg to three, in 
 grass and sea-weed. 
 
 eneral, as was said, 
 rocks, and lays from 
 a nest formed of long 
 Most of the kind are 
 
 fishy tasted, with black stringy flesh; yet the 
 
 young ones are better food : and of these, 
 with several other birds of the penguin kind, 
 the poor inhabitants of our northern islands 
 make their wretched banquets. They have 
 been long used to no other food ; and even 
 salted gull -can be relished by those who 
 know no better. Almost all delicacy is a 
 relative thing ; and the man who repines at 
 the luxuries of a well-served table, starves 
 riot for want, but from comparison. The 
 luxuries of the poor are indeed coarse to us, 
 yet still they are luxuries to those ignorant of 
 better; and it is probable enough that a 
 Kilda or a Feroe man may be found to exist, 
 outdoing Apicius himself in consulting the 
 pleasures of the table. Indeed, if it be true 
 that such meat as is the most dangerously 
 earned is the sweetest, no men can dine so 
 luxuriously as these, as none venture so 
 hardily in the pursuit of a dinner. In Jacob- 
 son's History of the Feroe islands, we have 
 an account of the method in which those 
 birds are taken; and 1 will deliver it in his 
 own simple manner. 
 
 " It cannot be expressed with what pains 
 and danger they take these birds in those 
 high steep cliffs, whereof many are two hun- 
 dred fathoms high. But there are men apt 
 by nature, and fit for the work, who take them 
 usually in two manners: they either climb 
 from below into these high promontories, that 
 are as steep as a w all ; or they let themselves 
 down with a rope from above. When they 
 climb from below, they have a pole five or 
 six ells long with an iron hook at the end, 
 which they that are below in the boat, or on 
 the cliff, fasten unto the man's girdle, helping 
 him up thus to the highest place where he 
 can get footing; afterwards they also help up 
 another man; and thus several climb up as 
 high as they possibly can ; and, where they 
 find difficulty, they help each other up, by 
 thrusting one another up with their poles. 
 When the first hath taken footing, he draws 
 the other up to him, by the rope fastened to 
 his waist ; and so they proceed, till they come 
 to the place where the birds build. They 
 there go about as well as Uiey can in those 
 dangerous places ; the one holding the rope 
 at one end, and fixing himself to the rock ; 
 the other going at the other end from place 
 to place. If it should happen that he chaiv 
 
536 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 ceth to fall, the other that stands firm keeps him 
 up, and helps him up again. But if he passeth 
 safe, he likewise fastens himself till the other has 
 passed the same dangerous place also. Thus 
 they go about the cliffs after birds as they please. 
 It often happeneth, however, (the more is the 
 pity) that when one doth not stand fast enough, 
 or is not sufficiently strong to hold up the other 
 in his fall, that they both fall down, and are 
 killed. In this manner some do perish every 
 year." 
 
 Mr. Peter Clanson, in his description of Nor- 
 way, writes, that there was anciently a law in 
 that country, that whosoever climbed so on 
 the cliffs that he fell down and died, if the 
 body was found before burial, his next kins- 
 man should go the same way; but if he durst 
 not, or could not do it, the dead body was not 
 then to be buried in sanctified earth, as the 
 person was too full of temerity, and his own 
 destroyer. 
 
 " When the fowlers are come, in the. manner 
 aforesaid, to the birds within the cliffs, where 
 people seldom come, the birds are so tame, 
 that they take them with their hands ; for they 
 will not readily leave their young. But when 
 they are wild, they cast a net, with which 
 they are provided, over them, and entangle 
 them therein. In the mean time, there lieth a 
 boat beneath in the sea, wherein they cast the 
 birds killed ; and, in this manner, they can in 
 a short time fill a boat with fowl. When it is 
 pretty fair weather, andther^ is good fowling, 
 the fowlers stay in the cliff seven or eight days 
 together ; for there are here and there holes in 
 the rocks, where they can safely rest ; and 
 they have meat let down to them with a line 
 from the top of the mountain. In the mean 
 t im some go every day to them, to fetch home 
 what they have taken. 
 
 " Some rocks are so difficult, that they can 
 in no manner get unto them from below ; 
 wherefore they seek to come down thereunto 
 from above. For this purpose they have a 
 rope eighty or a hundred fathoms long, made 
 of hemp, and three fingers thick. The fowler 
 maketh the end of this fast about his waist, 
 and between his legs, so that he can sit there- 
 on ; and is thus let down, with the fowling- 
 staff in his hand. Six men hold by the rope, 
 and let him easily down, laying a large piece 
 of wood on the brink of the rock, upon which 
 the rope glideth, that it may not be worn to 
 
 pieces by the hard and rough edge of the stone. 
 They have, besides, another small line, that is 
 fastened to the fowler's body ; on which he 
 pulleth, to give them notice how they should 
 let down the great rope, either lower or higher ; 
 or to hold still, that he may stay in the place 
 whereunto he is come. Here the man is in 
 great danger, because of the stones that are 
 loosened from the cliff, by the swinging of the 
 rope, and he cannot avoid them. To remedy 
 this, in some measure, he hath usually on his 
 head a seaman's thick and shaggy cap, which 
 defends him from the blows of the stones, if 
 they be not too big ; and then it costeth him his 
 life : nevertheless, they continually put them- 
 selves in that danger, for the wretched body's 
 food sake, hoping in God's mercy and pro- 
 tection, unto which the greatest part of them 
 do devoutly recommend themselves when they 
 go to work : otherwise, they say, there is no 
 other great danger in it, except that it is a 
 toilsome and artificial labour ; for he that hath 
 not learned to be so let down, and is not used 
 thereto, is turned about with the rope, so that 
 he soon groueth giddy, and can do nothing ; 
 but he that hath learned the art, considers it 
 as a sport, swings himself on the rope, sets his 
 feet against the rock, casts himself some fathoms 
 from thence, and shoots himself to what place 
 he will : he knows where the birds are, he un- 
 derstands how to sit on the line in the air, and 
 how to hold the fowling-staff in his hand ; 
 striking therewith the birds that come or fly 
 away : and when there are holes in the rocks, 
 and it stretches itself out, making underneath 
 as a ceiling under which the birds are, he 
 knoweth how to shoot himself in among them, 
 and there take firm footing. There, when he 
 is in these holes, he maketh himself loose of 
 the rope, which he fastens to a crag of the 
 rock, that it may not slip from him to the out- 
 side of the cliff. He then goes about in the 
 rock, taking the fowl either with his hands or 
 the fowling-staff. Thus, when he hath killed 
 as many birds as he thinks fit, he ties them in a 
 bundle, and fastens them to a little rope, giv- 
 ing a sign, by pulling, that they should draw 
 them up. When he has wrought thus the 
 whole day, and desires to get up again, he 
 sitteth once more upon the great rope, giving 
 a new sign that they should pull him up ; or 
 else he worketh himself up, climbing along 
 the rope, with his girdle full of birds. It is 
 
WATER-FOWL. 
 
 587 
 
 also usual, where there are not folks enough 
 to hold the great rope, for the fowler to drive 
 a post sloping into the earth, and to make a 
 rope fast therefore, by which he lets himself 
 down without any body's help, to work in the 
 manner aforesaid. Some rocks are so form- 
 ed that the person can go into their cavities 
 by land. 
 
 " These manners are more terrible and 
 dangerous to see than to describe ; especial- 
 ly if one considers the steepness and height 
 of the rocks, it seeming impossible for a man 
 to approach them, much less to climb or de- 
 scend. In some places, the fowlers are seen 
 climbing where they can only fasten the ends 
 of their toes and fingers ; not shunning such 
 places, though there be a hundred fathom 
 between them and the sea. It is a dear meat 
 for these poor people, for which they must 
 venture their lives ; and many, after long ven- 
 turing, do at last perish therein. 
 
 " When the fowl is brought home, a part 
 
 thereof is eaten fresh ; another part, when 
 there is much taken, being hung up for win- 
 ter provision. The feathers are gathered to 
 make merchandise of, for other expenses. 
 The inhabitants get a great many of these 
 fowls, as God giveth his blessing and fit wea> 
 ther. When it is dark and hazy, they take 
 most ; for then the birds stay in the rocks : 
 but in clear weather, and hot sun-shine, they 
 seek the sea. When they prepare to depart 
 for the season, they keep themselves most 
 there, sitting on the cliffs towards the sea- 
 side, where people get at them sometimes 
 with boats, and take them with fowling-staves." 
 Such is the account of this historian ; but 
 we are not to suppose that all the birds 
 caught in this manner are of the gull-kind : 
 on the contrary, numbers of them are of the 
 penguin kind ; auks, puffins, and guillemots. 
 These all come, once a season, to breed in 
 these recesses ; and retire in winter to fish in 
 more southern climates. 
 
 CHAPTER CXXIX. 
 
 OF THE PENGUIN KIND: AND FIRST, OF THE GREAT MAGELLANIC PENGUIN. 
 
 THE gulls are long-winged, swift flyers, 
 that hover over the most extensive seas, and 
 dart down upon such fish as approach too 
 near the surface. The penguin kind are but 
 ill fitted for flight, and still less for walking. 
 Every body must have seen the awkward 
 manner in which a duck, either wild or tame, 
 attempts to change place : they must recol- 
 lect with what softness and ease a gull or a 
 kite waves its pinions, and with what a coil 
 and flutter the duck attempts to move them; 
 how many strokes it is obliged to give, in 
 order to gather a little air; and even when 
 it is thus raised, how soon it is fatigued with 
 the force of its exertions, and obliged to take 
 rest again. But the duck is not, in its natu- 
 ral state, half so unwieldy an animal as the 
 whole tribe of the penguin kind. Their 
 wings are much shorter, more scantily fur- 
 nished with quills, and the whole pinion 
 placed too forward to be usefully employed 
 
 HO. 49 & 20. 
 
 For this reason, the largest of the penguin 
 kind, that have a thick heavy body to raise, 
 cannot fly at all. Their wings serve them 
 rather as paddles to help them forward, when 
 they attempt to move swiftly, and in a man- 
 ner walk along the surface of the water. 
 Even the smallest kinds seldom fly by choice; 
 they flutter their wings with the swiftest 
 efforts without making way ; and though they 
 have but a small weight of body to sustain, 
 yet they seldom venture to quit the water, 
 where they are provided with food and pro- 
 tection. 
 
 As the wings of the penguin tribe are un- 
 fitted for flight, their legs are still more awk- 
 wardly adapted for walking. This whole 
 tribe have all above the knee hid within the 
 belly : and nothing appears but two short 
 legs, or feet, as some would call them, that 
 seem stuck under the rump, and upon which 
 the animal is very awkwardly supported. 
 
 4P 
 
A HISTORY OF 
 
 They seem, when sitting, or attempting to 
 walk, like a dog that has been taught to sit 
 up, or to move a minuet. Their short legs 
 drive the body in progression from side to 
 side ; and were they not assisted by their 
 wings, they could scarcely move faster than 
 a tortoise. 
 
 This awkward position of the legs, which 
 so unqualifies them for living upon land, adapts 
 them admirably fora residence in water. In 
 that, the legs placed behind the moving body, 
 pushes it forward with the greater velocity; 
 and these birds, like Indian canoes, are the 
 swiftest in the water, by having their paddles 
 in the rear. Our sailors, for this reason, give 
 these birds the very homely, but expressive, 
 name of arse-feet. 
 
 Nor are they less qualified for diving than 
 swimming. By ever so little inclining their 
 bodies forward, they lose their centre of gra- 
 vity ; and every stroke from their feet only 
 tends to sink them the faster. In this man- 
 ner they can either dive at once to the bot- 
 tom, or swim between two waters; where 
 they continue fishing for some minutes, and 
 then ascending, catch an instantaneous breath, 
 to descend once more to renew their opera- 
 tions. Hence it is, that these birds, which 
 are so defenceless, and so easily taken by 
 land, are impregnable by water. If they per- 
 ceive themselves pursued in the least, they 
 instantly sink, and show nothing more than 
 their bills, till the enemy is withdrawn. Their 
 very internal conformation assists their power 
 of keeping long under water. Their lungs 
 are fitted with numerous vacuities, by which 
 they can take in a very large inspiration ; and 
 this probably serves them for a length of time. 
 
 As they never visit land, except when they 
 come to breed, their feathers take a colour 
 from their situation. That part of them which 
 has been continually bathed in the water, is 
 white; while their backs and wings are of 
 different colours, according to the different 
 species. They are also covered more warm- 
 ly all over the body with feathers, than any 
 other birds whatever; so that the sea seems 
 entirely their element: and but for the ne- 
 cessary duties of propagating their species, 
 we should scarcely have the smallest oppor- 
 tunity of seeing them, and should be utterly 
 unacquainted with their history. 
 
 Of all this tribe, the Magellanic Penguin is 
 the largest, and the most remarkable. In size 
 it approaches near that of a tame goose. It 
 never flies, as its wings are very short, and 
 covered with stiff hard feathers, and are al- 
 ways seen expanded, and hanging uselessly 
 down by the bird's sides. The upper part 
 of the head, back, and rump, are covered with 
 stifFblack feathers; while the belly and breast, 
 as is common with all of this kind, are of a 
 snowy whiteness, except a line of black that 
 is seen to cross the crop. The bill, which 
 from the base to about half way is covered 
 with wrinkles, is black, but marked crossway 
 with a stripe of yellow. They walk erect, 
 with their heads on high, their fin-like wings 
 hanging down like arms ; so that to see them 
 at a distance, they look like so many children 
 with white aprons. From hence they are 
 said to unite in themselves the qualities of men, 
 fowls, and fishes. Like men, they are up- 
 right; like fowls, they are feathered; and 
 like fishes, they have fin-like instruments, that 
 beat the water before, and serve for all the 
 purposes of swimming, rather than flying. 
 
 They feed upon fish; and seldom come 
 ashore, except in the breeding-season. As 
 the seas in that part of the world abound with 
 a variety, they seldom want food ; and their 
 extreme fatness seems a proof of the plenty 
 in which they live. They dive with great 
 rapidity, and are voracious to a great degree. 
 One of them, described by Clusius, though 
 but very young, would swallow an entire her- 
 ring at a mouthful, and often three successive- 
 ly before it was appeased. In consequence 
 of this gluttonous appetite, their flesh is rank 
 and fishy ; though our sailors say, that it is 
 pretty good eating. In some the flesh is so tough, 
 and the feathers so thick, that they stand the 
 blow of a scimetar without injury. 
 
 They are a bird of society; alid, especial- 
 ly when they come on shore, they are seen 
 drawn up in rank and file, upon the ledge of 
 a rock, standing together with the albatross, 
 as if in consultation. This is previous to their 
 laying, which generally begins, in that part 
 of the world, in the month of November. 
 Their preparations for laying are attended 
 with no great trouble, as a small depression 
 in the earth, without any other nest, serves 
 for this purpose. The warmth of their fea- 
 
WATER-FOWL. 
 
 .589 
 
 thers and the heat of their bodies is such, 
 that the progress of incubation is carried on 
 very rapidly. 
 
 But there is a difference in the manner of 
 this bird's nestling in other countries, which 
 I can only ascribe to the frequent disturban- 
 ces it has received from man or quadrupeds 
 in its recesses. In some places, instead of 
 contenting itself with a superficial depres- 
 sion in the earth, the penguin is found to bur- 
 row two or three yards deep:- in other places 
 it is seen to forsake the level, and to clamber 
 up the ledge of a rock, where it lays its egg, 
 and hatches it in that bleak exposed situation. 
 These precautions may probably have been 
 taken, in consequence of dear-bought expe- 
 rience. In those countries where the bird 
 fears for her own safety, or that of her young, 
 she may providently provide against danger, 
 by digging, or even by climbing; for both 
 which she is but ill adapted by nature. In 
 those places, however, where the penguin 
 has had but few visits from man, her nest is 
 made, with the most confident security, in the 
 middle of some large plain, where they are 
 seen by thousands. In that unguarded situa- 
 tion, neither expecting nor fearing a power- 
 ful enemy, they continue to sit brooding; 
 and even when man comes among them, have 
 at first no apprehension of their danger. Some 
 of this tribe have been called, by our seamen, 
 the Booby, from the total insensibility which 
 they show when they are sought to their de- 
 struction. But it is not considered that these 
 birds have never been taught to know the 
 dangers of a human enemy : it is against the 
 fox or the vulture that they have learned to 
 
 defend themselves ; but they have no idea of 
 injury from a being so very unlike their natu- 
 ral opposers. The penguins, therefore, when 
 our seamen first came among them, tamely 
 suffered themselves to be knocked on the 
 head, without even attempting an escape. 
 They have stood to be shot at in flocks, with- 
 out offering to move, in silent wonder, till 
 every one of their number has been destroy- 
 ed. Their attachment to their nests was still 
 more powerful ; for the females tamely suffer- 
 ed the men to approach and take their eggs, 
 without any resistance. But the experience 
 of a few of those unfriendly visits, has long 
 since taught them to be more upon their 
 guard in choosing their situations; or to 
 leave those retreats where they were so little 
 able to oppose their invaders. 
 
 The penguin lays but one egg; and, in 
 frequented shores, is found to burrow like a 
 rabbit : sometimes three or four take posses- 
 sion of one hole, and hatch their young to- 
 gether. In the holes of the rocks, where na- 
 ture has made them a retreat, several of this 
 tribe, as Linnasus assures us, are seen to- 
 gether. There the females lay their single 
 egg, in a common nest, and sit upon this, 
 their general possession, by turns ; while one 
 is placed as a centinel, to give warning of 
 approaching danger. The egg of the pen- 
 guin, as well as of all this tribe, is very large 
 for the size of the bird, being generally found 
 bigger than that of a goose. But as there 
 are many varieties of the penguin, and as they 
 differ in size, from that of a Muscovy duck 
 to a swan, the eggs differ in the same propor- 
 tion. 
 
 CHAPTER CXXX . 
 
 OF THE AUK, PUFFIN, AND OTHER BIRDS OF THE PENGUIN KIND. 
 
 OF a size far inferior to the penguin, but 
 with nearly the same form, and exactly of the 
 same appetites and manners, there is a very 
 numerous tribe. These frequent ourshores, 
 and, like tho penguin, have their legs placed 
 behind. They have short wings, which are 
 
 not totally incapable of flight; with round 
 bills for seizing their prey, which is fish. 
 They live upon the water, in which they are 
 continually seen diving; and seldom venture 
 upon land, except for the purposes of con- 
 kind. 
 
 4P* 
 
 tinuing their 
 
.590 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 The first of this smaller tribe is the Great 
 Northern Diver, which is nearly the size of a 
 goose: it is beautifully variegated all over 
 with many stripes, and differs from the pen- 
 guin, in being much slenderer, and more ele- 
 gantly formed. The Gray Speckled Diver 
 does not exceed the size of a Muscovy Duck ; 
 and, except in size, greatly resembles the for- 
 mer. The Auk, which breeds on the islands 
 of St. Kilda, and chiefly differs from the pen- 
 guin in size and colour, is smaller than a 
 duck; and the whole of the breast and belly, 
 as far as the middle of the throat, is white. 
 The Guillemot is about the same size; it dif- 
 fers from the auk, in having a longer, a slen- 
 derer, and a straighter bill. The Scarlet- 
 Throated Diver may be distinguished by its 
 name; and the Puffin, or Coulterneb, is one 
 of the most remarkable birds we know. 
 
 Words cannot easily describe the form of 
 the bill of the puffin, which differs so greatly 
 from that of any other bird. Those who have 
 seen the coulter of a plough, may form some 
 idea of the beak of this odd-looking animal. 
 The bill is flat; but, very different from that 
 of a duck, its edge is upwards: it is of a tri- 
 angular figure, and ending in a sharp point, 
 the upper chap bent a little downward, where 
 it is joined to the head; and a certain cal- 
 lous substance encompassing its base, as in 
 parrots. It is of two colours; ash-coloured 
 near the base, and red towards the point. It 
 has three furrows or grooves impressed in it; 
 one in the livid part, two in the red. The 
 eyes are fenced with a protuberant skin, of a 
 livid colour; and they are gray or ash- 
 coloured. These are marks sufficient to dis- 
 tinguish this bird by; but its value to those 
 in whose vicinity it breeds, renders it still 
 more an object of curiosity. 
 
 The puffin, like all the rest of this kind, has 
 its legs thrown so far back, that it can hard- 
 ly move without tumbling. This makes it 
 rise with difficulty, and subject to many falls 
 before it gets upon the wing: but as it is a 
 small bird, not much bigger than a pigeon, 
 when it once rises, it can continue its flight 
 with great celerity. 
 
 Both this and all the former build no nest: 
 but lay their eggs either in the crevices of 
 rocks, or in holes under ground near the shore. 
 They chiefly choose the latter situation ; for 
 
 the puffin, the auk, the guillemot, and the rest, 
 cannot easily rise to the nest when in a lofty 
 situation. Many are the attempts these birds 
 are seen to make to fly up to those nests 
 which are so high above the surface. In ren- 
 dering them inaccessible to mankind, they of- 
 ten render them almost inaccessible to them- 
 selves. They are frequently obliged to make 
 three or four efforts, before they can come at 
 the place of incubation. For this reason, the 
 auk and guillemot, when they have once laid 
 their single egg, which is extremely large for 
 the size, seldom forsake it until it is excluded. 
 The male, who is better furnished for flight, 
 feeds the female during this interval; and so 
 bare is the place where she sits, that the egg 
 would often roll down from the rock, did not 
 the body of the bird support it. 
 
 But the puffin seldom chooses these inac- 
 cessible and troublesome heights for its situa- 
 tion. Relying on its courage and the strength 
 of its bill, with which it bites most terribly, 
 it either makes or finds a hole in the ground, 
 where to lay and bring forth its young. All 
 the winter these birds, like the rest, are ab- 
 sent; visiting regions toe remote for disco- 
 very. At the latter end of March, or the 
 beginning of April, come over a troop of their 
 spies or harbingers, that stay two or three 
 days, as it were to view and search out for 
 their former situations, and see whether all 
 be well. This done, they once more depart; 
 and, about the beginning of May, return again 
 with the whole army of their companions. 
 But if the season happens to be stormy and 
 tempestuous, and the sea troubled, the un- 
 fortunate voyagers undergo incredible hard- 
 ships ; and they are found, by hundreds, cast 
 away upon the shores, lean and perished with 
 famine.* It is most probable, therefore, that 
 this voyage is performed more on the water 
 than in the air; and as they cannot fish in 
 stormy weather, their strength is exhausted 
 before they can arrive at their wished-for 
 harbour. 
 
 The puffin, when it prepares for breeding, 
 which always happens a few days after its ar- 
 rival, begins to scrape up a hole in the ground 
 not far from the shore, and when it has some 
 way penetrated the earth, it then throws itself 
 
 a Willoughby's Ornith. p. 326. 
 
WATER-FOWL. 
 
 591 
 
 upon its back, and with bill and claws thus 
 burrows inward, till it has dug a hole with se- 
 veral windings and turnings, from eight to ten 
 feet deep. It particularly seeks to (tig under 
 a stone, where it expects the greatest securi- 
 ty. In this fortified retreat it lays one egg ; 
 which, though the bird be not much bigger 
 thau a pigeon, is of the size of a hen's. 
 
 When the young one is excluded, the pa- 
 rent's industry and courage is incredible. 
 Few birds or beasts will venture to attack 
 them in their retreats. When the great sea- 
 raven, as Jacobson informs us, comes to take 
 away their young, the puffins boldly oppose 
 him. Their meeting affords a most singular 
 combat. As soon as the raven approaches, 
 the puifin catches him under the throat with 
 its beak, and sticks its claws into his breast, 
 which makes the raven, with a loud scream- 
 ing, attempt to get away ; but the little bird 
 still holds fast to the invader, nor lets him go 
 till they both come to the sea, where they 
 drop down together, and the raven is drown- 
 ed ; yet the raven is but too often successful ; 
 and, invading the puffin at the bottom of its 
 hole, devours both the parent and its family. 
 
 But were a punishment to be inflicted for 
 immorality in irrational animals, the puffin is 
 justly a sufferer from invasion, as it is often 
 itself one of the most terrible invaders. Near 
 the isle of Anglesey, in an islet called Pries- 
 holm, their flocks may be compared, for mul- 
 titude, to swarms of bees. In another islet, 
 called the Calf of Man, a bird of this kind, but 
 of a different species, is seen in great abun- 
 dance. In both places, numbers of rabbits 
 are found to breed ; but the puffin, unwilling 
 to be at the trouble of making a hole, when 
 there is one ready made, disposesses the rab- 
 bits, and it is not unlikely destroys their 
 young. It is in these unjustly acquired re- 
 treats that the young puffins are found in 
 great numbers, and become a very valuable 
 acquisition to the natives of the place. The 
 old ones (I am now speaking of the Manks 
 puffin) early in the morning, at break of day, 
 leave their nests and young, and even the is- 
 land, nor do they return till night-fall. All 
 this time they are diligently employed in fish- | 
 ing for their young; so that their retreats on 
 land, which in the morning were loud and 
 clamorous, are now still and quiet, with not 
 
 a wing stirring till the approach of dusk, when 
 their screams once more announce their re- 
 turn. Whatever fish, or other food, they have 
 procured in the day, by night begins to suf- 
 fer a kind of half digestion, and is reduced to 
 an oily matter, which is ejected from the sto- 
 mach of the old ones into the mouth of the 
 young. By this they are nourished, and be- 
 come fat to an amazing degree. When they 
 are arrived to their full growth, they who are 
 entrusted by the lord of the island, draw them 
 from their holes ; and. that they may more 
 readily keep an account of the number they 
 take, cut off one foot as a token. Their flesh 
 is said to be excessively rank, as they feed 
 upon fish, especially sprats, and sea-weed; 
 however, when they are pickled and pre- 
 served with spices, they are admired by those 
 who are fond of high eating. We are told, 
 that formerly their flesh was allowed by the 
 church on Lenten days. They were, at that 
 time, also taken by ferrets, as we do rabbits. 
 At present, they are either dug out, or drawn 
 out, from their burrows, with an hooked stick. 
 They bite extremely hard, and keep such 
 fast hold of whatsoever they seize upon, as 
 not to be easily disengaged. Their noise, 
 when taken, is very disagreeable, being like 
 the efforts of a dumb person attempting to 
 speak. 
 
 The constant depredation which these birds 
 annually suffer, does not in the least seem to 
 intimidate them, or drive them away ; on the 
 contrary, as the people say, the nest must be 
 robbed, or the old ones will breed there no 
 longer. All birds of this kind lay but one egg; 
 yet if that be taken away, they will lay ano- 
 ther, and so on to a third ; which srems to 
 imply, that robbing their nests does not much 
 intimidate them from laying again. Those, 
 however, whose nests have been thus destroy- 
 ed, are often too late in bringing up their 
 young; who, if they be not fledged and pre- 
 pared for migration when all the rest depart, 
 are left at land to shift for themselves. In 
 August the whole tribe is seen to take leave 
 of their summer residence ; nor are they ob- 
 served any more till the return of the ensu- 
 ing spring. It is probable that they sail away 
 to more southern regions, as our mariners fre- 
 quently see myriads of water-fowl upon their 
 return, and steering usually to the north. In- 
 
592 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 deed the coldest countries seem to be their 
 most favoured retreats ; and the number of 
 water-fowl is much greater in those colder 
 climates, than in the warmer regions near the 
 line. The quantity of oil which abounds in 
 their bodies, serves as a defence against cold, 
 and preserves them in vigour against its 
 severity ; but the same provision of oil is 
 rather detrimental in warm countries, as it 
 turns rancid, and many of them die of disor- 
 ders which arise from its putrefaction. In 
 general, however, water-fowl can be properly 
 said to beof no climate; the element upon which 
 they live, being their proper residence. They 
 necessarily spend a few months of summer upon 
 land, to bring up their young ; but the rest of their 
 time is probably consumed in their migrations, 
 or near some unknown coasts, where their pro- 
 vision of fish is found in greatest abundance. 
 Before I go to the third general division of 
 
 water-fowls, it may not be improper to observe, 
 that there is one species of round-billed water- 
 fowl, that does not properly lie within any of 
 the former distributions. This is the Goose- 
 ander ; a bird with the body and wings shaped 
 like those of the penguin kind, but with 
 legs not hid in the belly. It may be distin- 
 guished from all others by its bill, which is 
 round, hooked at the point, and toothed, both 
 upper and under chap, like a saw. Its colours 
 are various and beautiful : however, its man- 
 ners and appetites entirely resemble those of 
 the diver. It feeds upon fish, for which it 
 dives ; and is said to build its nest upon trees, 
 like the heron and the cormorant. It seems 
 to form the shade between the penguin and 
 the goose kind ; having a round bill like the 
 one ; and unembarrassed legs, like the other. 
 In the shape of the head, neck, and body, it 
 resembles them both. 
 
 CHAPTEfc CXXXI. 
 
 OF BIRDS OF THE GOOSE KIND, PROPERLY SO CALLED. 
 
 THE Swan, the Goose, and the Duck, are 
 leaders of a numerous, useful, and beautiful 
 tribe of birds, that we have reclaimed from a 
 state of nature, and have taught to live in de- 
 pendence about us. To describe any of these, 
 would be as superfluous as definitions usually 
 are when given of things with which we are 
 already well acquainted. There are few that 
 have not had opportunities of seeing them, 
 and whose ideas would not anticipate our de- 
 scription. But, though nothing be so easy as to 
 distinguish these in general from each other, 
 yet the largest of the duck kind approach the 
 goose so nearly, that it may be proper to mark 
 the distinctions. 
 
 The marks of the goose are, a bigger body, 
 large wings, a longer neck, a white ring about 
 the rump, a bill thicker at the base, slenderer 
 towards the tip, with shorter legs, placed more 
 forward on the body. They both have a 
 waddling walk ; but the duck, from the posi- 
 tion of its legs, has it in a greater degree. By 
 these marks, these similar tribes may be 
 known asunder; and though the duck should 
 
 be found to equal the goose in size, which 
 sometimes happens, yet there are still other 
 sufficient distinctions. 
 
 But they all agree in many particulars ; 
 and have a nearer affinity to each other than 
 the neighbouring kinds in any other depart- 
 ment. Their having been tamed, has pro- 
 duced alterations in each, by which they differ 
 as much from the wild ones of their respective 
 kinds, as they do among themselves. There 
 is nearly as much difference between the wild 
 and the tame duck, as between some sorts of 
 the duck and the goose ; but still the charac- 
 teristics of the kind are strongly marked and 
 obvious ; and this tribe can never be mistaken. 
 
 The bill is the first great obvious distinction 
 of the goose kind from all of the feathered 
 tribe. In other birds it is round and wedge- 
 like, or crooked at the end. In all the goose 
 kind it is flat and broad, made for the purpose 
 of skimming ponds and lakes of the mantling 
 weeds that sland on the surface. The bills of 
 other birds are made of a horny substance 
 throughout; these have their inoffensive bills 
 
WATER-FOWL. 
 
 593 
 
 sheathed with a skin which covers them all over. 
 The bill of every other bird seems, in some 
 measure, forced for piercing or tearing ; theirs 
 are only fitted for shovelling up their food, 
 which is chiefly of the vegetable kind. 
 
 Though these birds do not reject animal 
 food when offered them, yet they can content- 
 edly subsist upon vegetables, and seldom seek 
 any other. They are easily provided for ; 
 wherever there is water, there seems to be 
 plenty. All the other web-footed tribes are 
 continually voracious, continually preying. 
 These lead more harmless lives : the weeds 
 on the surface of the water, or the insects at 
 the bottom, the grass by the bank, or the fruits 
 and corn in cultivated grounds, are sufficient 
 to satisfy their easy appetites : yet these, like 
 every other animal, will not reject flesh, if pro- 
 perly prepared for them; it is sufficient praise 
 to them that they do not eagerly pursue it. 
 
 As their food is chiefly vegetables, so their 
 fecundity is in proportion. We have had fre- 
 quent opportunities to observe, that all the 
 predatory tribes, whether of birds or quadru- 
 peds, are barren and unfruitful. We have 
 seen the lion with its two cubs ; the eagle 
 with the same number ; and the penguin with 
 even but one. Nature, that has supplied them 
 with powers of destruction, has denied them 
 fertility. But it is otherwise with these harm- 
 less animals I am describing. They seem 
 formed to fill up the chasms in animated na- 
 ture, caused by the voraciousness of others. 
 They breed in great abundance, and lead 
 their young to the pool the instant they are 
 excluded. 
 
 As their food is simple, so their flesh is 
 nourishing and wholesome. The swan was 
 
 considered as a high delicacy among the an- 
 cients ; the goose was abstained from as total- 
 ly indigestible. Modern manners have in- 
 verted tastes ; the goose is now become the 
 favourite ; and the swan is seldom brought to 
 table, unless for the purposes of ostentation. 
 But at all times the flesh of the duck was in 
 high esteem ; the ancients thought even more 
 highly of it than we do. We are contented to 
 eat it is as a delicacy ; they also considered it 
 as a medicine ; and Plutarch assures us, that 
 Cato kept his whole family in health, by feed- 
 ing them with duck whenever they threatened 
 to be out of order. 
 
 These qualities, of great fecundity, easy 
 sustenance, and wholesome nourishment, have 
 been found so considerable, as to induce man 
 to take these birds from a state of nature, and 
 render them domestic. How long they have 
 been thus dependents upon his pleasures is not 
 known ; for, from the earliest accounts, they 
 were considered as familiars about him. The 
 time must have been very remote; for there 
 have been many changes wrought in their 
 colours, their figures, and even their internal 
 parts, by human cultivation. The different 
 kinds of these birds, in a wild state, are simple 
 in their colourings : when one has seen a wild 
 goose or a wild duck, a description of its plu- 
 mage will, to a feather, exactly correspond 
 with that of any other. But in the tame kinds 
 no two of any species are exactly alike. Dif- 
 ferent in their size, their colours, and frequent- 
 ly in their general form, they seem the mere 
 creatures of art ; and having been so long de- 
 pendent upon man for support, they seem to 
 assume forms entirely suited to his pleasures 
 or necessities. 
 
 CHAPTER CXXXI1. 
 
 OF THE SWAN, TAME AND WILD. 
 
 NO bird makes a more indifferent figure 
 upon land, or a more beautiful one in the 
 water, than die Swan. When it ascends from 
 its favourite element, its motions are awkward, 
 and its neck is stretched forward with an air 
 of stupidity ; but when it is seen smoothly 
 
 sailing along the water, commanding a thou- 
 sand graceful attitudes, moving at pleasure 
 without the smallest effort ; " when it proudly 
 rows its state," as Milton has it, " with arch- 
 ed neck, between its white wings mantling," 
 there is not a more beautiful figure in all na- 
 
594 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 ture. In the exhibition of its form, there are 
 no broken or harsh lines, no constrained or 
 catching motions; but the roundest contours, 
 and the easiest transitions ; the eye wanders 
 over every part with insatiable pleasure, and 
 every part takes a new grace with a new mo- 
 tion. 
 
 This fine bird has long been rendered do- 
 mestic ; and it is now a doubt whether there 
 be any of the tame kind in a state of nature. 
 The wild swan, though so strongly resembling 
 this in colour and form, is yet a different bird ; 
 for it is very differently formed within. The 
 wild swan is less than the tame by almost a 
 fourth; for as the one weighs twenty pounds, 
 the other only weighs sixteen pounds and 
 three quarters. The colour of the tame swan 
 is all over white ; that of the wild bird is, 
 along the back and the tips of the wings, of 
 an ash-colour. But these are slight differen- 
 ces compared to what are found upon dissec- 
 tion. In the tame swan, the windpipe sinks 
 down into the lungs in the ordinary manner; 
 but in the wild, after a strange and wonder- 
 ful contortion, like what we have seen in the 
 crane, it enters through a hole formed in the 
 breast-bone ; and being reflected therein, re- 
 turns by the same aperture; and being con- 
 tracted into a narrow compass by a broad and 
 bony cartilage, it is divided into two branch- 
 es, which, before they enter the lungs, are di- 
 lated, and, as it were, swollen out into two 
 cavities. 
 
 Such is the extraordinary difference be- 
 tween these two animals, which externally 
 seem to be of one species. Whether it is in 
 the power of long-continued captivity and 
 domestication to produce this strange varie- 
 ty, between birds otherwise the same, I will 
 not take upon me to determine. But cer- 
 tain it is, that our tame swan is no where to 
 be found, at least in Europe, in a state of 
 nature. 
 
 As it is not easy to account for this differ- 
 ence of conformation, so it is still more diffi- 
 cult to reconcile the accounts of the ancients 
 with the experience of the moderns, concern- 
 ing the vocal powers of this bird. The tame 
 swan is one of the most silent of all birds; 
 and the wild one has a note extremely loud 
 and disagreeable. It is probable, the con- 
 volutions of the windpipe may contribute to 
 
 increase the clangor of it; for such is the 
 harshness of its voice, that the bird from 
 thence has been called the hooper. In nei- 
 ther is there the smallest degree of melody ; 
 nor have they, for above this century, been 
 said to give specimens of the smallest musi- 
 cal abilities; yet, notwithstanding this, it was 
 the general opinion of antiquity, that the 
 swan was a most melodious bird ; and that 
 even to its death, its voice went on improving. 
 It would show no learning to produce what 
 they have said upon the music of the swan : 
 it has already been collected by Aldrovandus; 
 and still more professedly by the Abbe Ge- 
 doyn, in the Transactions of the Academy of 
 Belles Lettres. From these accounts it ap- 
 pears, that, while Plato, Aristotle, and Diodo- 
 rus Siculus, believed the vocality of the swan, 
 Pliny and Virgil seem to doubt that received 
 opinion. In this equipoise of authority Al- 
 drovandus seems to have determined in fa- 
 vour of the Greek philosophers; and (he form 
 of the windpipe in the wild swan, so much re- 
 sembling a musical instrument, inclined his 
 belief still more strongly. In aid of this also, 
 came the testimony of Pendasius, who affirm- 
 ed, that he had often heard swans sweetly 
 singing in the lake of Mantua, as he was row- 
 ed up and down in a boat ; as also of Olaus 
 Wormius, who professed that many of his 
 friends and scholars had heard them singing. 
 " There was," says he, " in my family, a very 
 honest young man, John Rostorph, a student 
 in divinity, and a Norwedian by nation. This 
 man did, upon his credit, and with the inter- 
 position of an oath, solemnly affirm, that once, 
 in the territory of Dronten, as he was stand- 
 ing on the sea-shore, early in the morning, he 
 heard an unusual and sweet murmur, com- 
 posed of the most pleasant whistlings and 
 sounds; he knew not at first whence they 
 came, or how they were made, for he saw no 
 man near to prod uce them ; but, looking round 
 about him, and climbing to the top of a cer- 
 tain promontory, he there espied an infinite 
 number of swans gathered together in a bay, 
 and making the most delightful harmony; a 
 sweeter in all his life- time he had never 
 heard." These were accounts sufficient at 
 least to keep opinion in suspense, though in 
 contradiction to our own experience: but Al- 
 drovandus, to put, as he supposed, the ques- 
 
WATER-FOWL. 
 
 595 
 
 tion past all doubt, gives us the testimony of a 
 countryman of our own, from whom he had 
 the relation. This honest man's name was 
 Mr. George Braun, who assured him, that 
 nothing was more common in England, than 
 to hear swans sing ; that they were bred in great 
 numbers in the sea near London ; and that 
 every fleet of ships that returned from their voy- 
 ages from distant countries, were met by swans, 
 that came joyfully out to welcome their return, 
 and salute them with a loud and cheerful sing- 
 ing ! It was in this manner that Aldrovandus, 
 that great and good man, was frequently im- 
 posed upon by the designing and the needy : 
 his unbounded curiosity drew round him peo- 
 ple of every kind, and his generosity was as 
 ready to reward falsehood as truth. Poor 
 Aldrovandus ! after having spent a vast for- 
 tune, for the purposes of enlightening man- 
 kind ; after having collected more truth, and 
 more falsehood, than any man ever did be- 
 fore him, he little thought of being reduced at 
 last to want bread, to feel the ingratitude of 
 his country, and to die a beggar in a public 
 hospital ! 
 
 Thus it appears that our modern authorities, 
 in favour of the singing of swans, are rather 
 suspicious, since they are reduced to this Mr. 
 G. Braun, and John Rostorph, the native of a 
 country remarkable for ignorance and credu- 
 lity. It is probable the ancients had some 
 mythological meaning in ascribing melody to 
 the swan ; and as for the moderns, they 
 scarcely deserve our regard. The swan, 
 therefore, must be content with that share of 
 fame which it possesses on the score of its beau- 
 ty; since the melody of its voice, without better 
 testimony, will scarcely be admitted by even 
 the credulous. 
 
 This beautiful bird is as delicate in its appe- 
 tites, as elegant in its form. Its chief food is 
 corn, bread, herbs growing in the water, and 
 roots and seeds, which are found near the 
 margin. It prepares a nest in some retired 
 part of the bank, and chiefly where there is 
 an islet in the stream. This is composed of 
 
 A species has lately been discovered in New Holland, 
 which at once puts an end'to the proverbial point of a 
 black swan. This rare and elegant bird, in its general 
 appearance, bears the most striking resemblance to the 
 tame swan, and has all those gracefully-varying attitudes 
 which so eminently distinguish it from all other inhabi. 
 
 NO. 51 & 52. 
 
 water-plants, long grass, and sticks ; and the 
 male and female assist in forming it with great 
 assiduity. The swan lays seven or eight eggs, 
 white, much larger than those of a goose, with 
 a hard, and sometimes a tuberous, shell. It 
 sits near two months before its young are ex- 
 cluded ; which are ash-coloured when they 
 first leave the shell, and for some months after. 
 It is not a little dangerous to approach the old 
 ones, when their little family are feeding round 
 them. Their fears, as well as their pride, 
 seem to take the alarm ; and they have some- 
 times been known to give a blow with their 
 pinion, that has broke a man's leg or arm. 
 
 It is not till they are a twelvemonth old that 
 the young swans change their colour with 
 their plumage. All the stages of this bird's 
 approach to maturity are slow, and seem to 
 mark its longevity. It is two months hatch- 
 ing ; a year in growing to its proper size : and 
 if, according to Pliny's observation, that those 
 animals that are longest in the womb are the 
 longest lived, the swan is the longest in the 
 shell of any bird we know, and is said to be 
 remarkable for its longevity. Some say, that 
 it lives three hundred years ; and Willoughby, 
 who is in general diffident enough, seems to 
 believe the report. A goose, as he justly ob- 
 serves, has been known to live a hundred ; 
 and the swan, from its superior size, and from 
 its harder, firmer flesh, may naturally be sup- 
 posed to live still longer. 
 
 Swans were formerly held in such great 
 esteem in England, that by an act of Edward 
 the Fourth, none, except the son of the king, 
 was permitted to keep a swan, unless possess- 
 ed of five marks a year. By a subsequent 
 act, the punishment for taking their eggs was 
 imprisonment for a year and a day, and a 
 fine at the king's will. At present they are 
 but little valued for the delicacy of their flesh ; 
 but many are still preserved for their beauty. 
 We see multitudes on the Thames and Trent; 
 but no where greater numbers than on the salt 
 water inlet of the sea near Abbotsbury, in 
 Dorsetshire." 
 
 tants of the waters : but the plumage is of a full deep 
 black, with a bill of the finest red, and white quilled fea- 
 thers. The tip of the upper beak is blackish ; and thero 
 is a yellow spot near it : the legs are black, and the feet 
 somewhat paler. 
 
 4Q 
 
596 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 CHAPTER CXXXIII. 
 
 OF THE GOOSE, AND ITS VARIETIES. 
 
 THE Goose, in its domestic state, exhibits a 
 variety of colours. The wild goose always 
 retains the same marks ; the whole upper 
 part is ash-coloured ; the breast and belly are 
 of a dirty white ; the bill is narrow at the 
 base, and at the tip it is black ; the legs are of 
 a saffron colour, and the claws black. These 
 marks are seldom found in the tame ; whose 
 bill is entirely red, and whose legs are entirely 
 brown. The wild goose is rather less than 
 the tame ; but both invariably retain a white 
 ring round their tail, which shows that they 
 are both descended from the same original. 
 
 The wild goose is supposed to breed in the 
 northern parts of Europe ; and, in the be- 
 ginning of winter, to descend into more tem- 
 perate regions. They are often seen flying at 
 very great heights, in flocks from fifty to a 
 hundred, and seldom resting by day. Their 
 cry is frequently heard, when they are at an 
 imperceptible distance above us ; and this 
 seems bandied from one to the other, as among 
 hounds in the pursuit. Whether this be the 
 note of mutual encouragement, or the neces- 
 sary consequence of respiration, is doubtful ; 
 but they seldom exert it when they alight in 
 these journeys. 
 
 Upon their coming to the ground by day, 
 they range themselves in a line, like cranes ; 
 and seem rather to have descended for rest, 
 than for other refreshment. When they have 
 sat in this manner for an hour or two, I have 
 heard one of them, with a loud long note, 
 sound a kind of charge, to which the rest 
 punctually attended, and they pursued their 
 journey with renewed alacrity. Their flight 
 is very regularly arranged : they either go in 
 a line abreast, or in two lines, joining in an 
 angle in the middle. I doubt whether the 
 form of their flight be thus arranged to cut the 
 air with greater ease, as is commonly believed ; 
 I am more apt to think it is to present a 
 smaller mark to fowlers from below. A bul- 
 let might easily reach them, if huddled together 
 in a flock, and the same discharge might de- 
 
 stroy several at once ; but, by their manner of 
 flying, no shot from below can affect above 
 one of them ; and from the height at which 
 they fly, this is not easy to be hit. 
 
 The Barnacle differs in some respects from 
 both these; being less than either, with a 
 black bill, much shorter than either of the 
 preceding. It is scarcely necessary to com- 
 bat the idle error of this bird's being bred from 
 a shell sticking to ships' bottoms ; it is well 
 known to be hatched from an egg in the or- 
 dinary manner, and to differ in very few par- 
 ticulars from all the rest of its kind. 
 
 The Brent Goose is still less than the former, 
 and not bigger than a Muscovy duck, except 
 that the body is longer. The head, neck, 
 and upper part of the breast, are black ; but 
 about the middle of the neck, on each side, 
 are two small spots or lines of white, whjch 
 together appear like a ring. 
 
 These, and many other varieties, are found 
 in this kind ; which agree in one common 
 character of feeding upon vegetables, and be- 
 ing remarkable for their fecundity. Of these, 
 however, the tame goose is the most fruitful. 
 Having less to fear from its enemies, leading a 
 securer and a more plentiful life, its prolific 
 powers increase in proportion to its ease ; and 
 though the wild goose seldom lays above eight 
 eggs, the tame goose is often seen to lay above 
 twenty. The female hatches her eggs with 
 great assiduity ; while the gander visits her 
 twice or thrice a day, and sometimes drives 
 her off to take her place, where he sits with 
 great state and composure. 
 
 But beyond that of all animals is his pride 
 when the young are excluded : he seems then 
 to consider himself as a champion, not only 
 obliged to defend his young, but also to keep 
 off the suspicion of danger ; he pursues dogs 
 and men that never attempt to molest him : 
 and, though the most harmless thing alive, is 
 then the most petulant and provoking. When, 
 in this manner, he has pursued the calf or the 
 mastiff, to whose contempt alone he is indebted 
 
Dmwn ly S 
 
 GfUAKTOlV GENUS 
 
 Tm "" r ''""' Guillemot Div. (;.!. 
 
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WATER-FOWL. 
 
 597 
 
 for safety, he returns to his female and her 
 brood in triumph, clapping his wings, scream- 
 ing, and showing all the marks of conscious 
 superiority. It is probable, however, these 
 arts succeed in raising his importance among 
 the tribe where they are displayed ; and it is 
 probable there is not a more respectable ani- 
 mal on earth to a goose than a gander! 
 
 A young goose is generally reckoned very 
 good eating; yet the feathers of this bird still 
 farther increase its value. I feel my obliga- 
 tions to this animal every word I write ; for, 
 however deficient a man's head may be, his 
 pen is nimble enough upon every occasion : 
 it is happy indeed for us, that it requires no 
 great effort to put it in motion. But the fea- 
 thers of this bird are still as valuable in ano- 
 ther capacity, as they make the softest and 
 the warmest beds to sleep on. 
 
 Of goose-feathers most of our beds in Eu- 
 rope are composed ; in the countries border- 
 ing on the Levant, and in all Asia, the use of 
 them is utterly unknown. They there use 
 mattrasses, stuffed with wool, or camel's hair, 
 or cotton ; and the warmth of their climate 
 may perhaps make them dispense with cu- 
 shions of a softer kind. But how it happens 
 that the ancients had not the use of feather- 
 beds, is to me surprising: Pliny tells us, in- 
 deed, that they made bolsters of feathers to 
 
 lay their heads on; and this serves as a 
 proof that they turned feathers to no other 
 uses. 
 
 As feathers are a very valuable commodi- 
 ty, great numbers of geese are kept tame in 
 the fens in Lincolnshire, which are plucked 
 once or twice a year. These make a con- 
 siderable article of commerce. The feathers 
 of Somersetshire are most in esteem; those 
 of Ireland are reckoned the worst. Hudson's 
 Bay also furnishes very fine feathers, supposed 
 to be of the goose kind. The down of the 
 swan is brought from Dantzic. The same 
 place also sends us great quantities of the 
 feathers of the cock and hen ; but Greenland, 
 Iceland, and Norway, furnish the best fea- 
 thers of all : and in this number we may 
 reckon the Eider down, of which we shall 
 take notice in its place. The best method 
 of curing feathers, is to lay them in a room, 
 in an open exposure to the sun, and when 
 dried to put them into bags, and beat them 
 well with poles to get the dust off. But, after 
 all, nothing will prevent, for a time, the hea- 
 vy smell which arises from the putrefaction 
 of the oil contained in every feather ; no ex- 
 posure will draw this off, how long soever it 
 be continued ; they must be lain upon, which 
 is the only remedy ; and for this reason, old 
 feathers are much more valuable than new. 
 
 CHAPTER CXXXIV. 
 
 OF THE DUCK, AND ITS VARIETIES. 
 
 THE Tame Duck is the most easily rear- 
 ed of all our domestic animals. The very in- 
 stincts of the young ones direct them to their 
 favourite element; and though they are con- 
 ducted by a hen, yet they despise the admo- 
 nitions of their leader. 
 
 This serves as an incontestable proof that 
 all birds have their manners rather from na- 
 ture than education. A falcon pursues the 
 partridge, not because it is taught by the old 
 one, but because its appetites make their im- 
 portunate call for animal food : the cuckoo 
 follows a very different trade from that which 
 
 its nurse endeavoured to teach it; and, if we 
 may credit Pliny, in time destroys its instruc- 
 tor: animals of the duck kind also follow 
 their appetites, not their tutor, and come to 
 all their various perfections without any guide. 
 All the arts possessed by man, are the result 
 of accumulated experience; all the arts of 
 inferior animals are self-taught, and scarcely 
 one acquired by imitation. 
 
 It is usual with the good women to lay duck- 
 eggs under a hen, because she hatches them 
 better than the original parent would have 
 done. The duck seems to be a heedless in- 
 
 4Q* 
 
598 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 attentive mother; she frequently leaves her 
 eggs till they spoil, and even seems to forget 
 that she is intrusted with the charge : she is 
 equally regardless of them when excluded ; 
 she leads them to the pond, and thinks she 
 has sufficiently provided for her offspring 
 when she has shown them the water. What- 
 ever advantages may be procured by coming 
 nearer the house, or attending in the yard, 
 she declines them all ; and often lets the ver- 
 min, who haunt the waters, destroy them, ra- 
 ther than bring them to take shelter nearer 
 home. The hen is a nurse of a very opposite 
 character; she broods with the utmost assi- 
 duity, and generally brings forth a young one 
 from every egg committed to her charge ; she 
 does not lead her younglings to the water in- 
 deed, but she watchfully guards them when 
 there, by standing at the brink. Should the 
 rat, or the weasel, attempt to seize them, the 
 hen can give them protection ; she leads them 
 to the house when tired with paddling, and 
 rears up the suppositions brood, without ever 
 suspecting that they belong to another. 
 
 The wild duck di tiers in many respects 
 from the tame; and in them there is still 
 greater variety than among the domestic 
 kinds. Of the tame duck there are not less 
 than ten different sorts ; and of the wild, Bris- 
 son reckons above twenty. The most obvious 
 distinction between wild and tame ducks is 
 in the colour of their feet : those of the tame 
 duck being yellow, those of the wild duck 
 black. The difference between wild ducks 
 among each other, arises as well from their 
 size as the nature of the place they feed in. 
 Sea-ducks, which feed in salt-water, and dive 
 much, have a broad bill, bending upwards, a 
 large hind-toe, and a long blunt tail. Pond- 
 ducks, which feed in plashes, have a straight 
 and narrow bill, a small hind-toe, and a sharp- 
 pointed train. The former are called, by our 
 decoymen, foreign ducks ; the latter are sup- 
 posed to be natives of England. It would be 
 tedious to enter into the minute varieties of 
 such a number of birds; all agreeing in the 
 same general figure, the same habits and mode 
 of living, and differing in little more than their 
 size and the colours of their plumage. In 
 this tribe, we may rank as natives of our own 
 European dominions, the Eider Duck, which 
 is double the size of a common duck, with a 
 
 black bill ; the Velvet Duck, not so large, 
 and with a yellow bill; the Scoter, with a 
 knob at the base of a yellow bill ; the T uited 
 Duck, adorned with a thick crest; the Scaup 
 Duck, less than the common duck, with the 
 bill of a grayish blue colour ; the Golden Eye, 
 with a large white spot at the corners of the 
 mouth, resembling an eye; the Sheldrake, 
 with the bill of a bright red, and swelling into 
 a knob; the Mallard, which is the stock from 
 whence our tame breed has probably been 
 produced ; the Pintail, with the two middle 
 feathers of the tail three inches longer than 
 the rest ; the Pochard, with the head and neck 
 of a bright bay ; the Widgeon, w ith a lead-co- 
 loured bill, and the plumage of the back 
 marked with narrow black and white undu- 
 lated lines, but best known by its whistling 
 sound ; lastly, the Teal, which is the smallest 
 of this kind, with the bill black, the head and 
 upper part of the neck of a bright bay. These 
 are the most common birds of the duck kind 
 among ourselves: but who can describe the 
 amazing variety of this tribe if he extends his 
 view to the different quarters of the world ? 
 The most noted of the foreign tribe are the 
 Muscovy Duck, or, more properly speaking, 
 the Musk Duck, so called from a supposed 
 musky smell, with naked skin round the eyes, 
 and which is a native of Africa; the Brasilian 
 Duck, that is of the size of a goose, all over 
 black except the tips of the wings ; the Ame- 
 rican Wood Duck, with a variety of beauti- 
 ful colourj, and a plume of feathers that falls 
 from the back of the head like a friar's cowl. 
 These, and twenty others, might be added, 
 were increasing the number of names the way 
 to enlarge the sphere of our comprehension. 
 All these live in the manner of our domes- 
 tic ducks, keeping together in flocks in the 
 winter, and flying in pairs in summer, bring- 
 ing up their young by the water-side, and 
 leading them to their food as soon as out of 
 the shell. Their nests are usually built among 
 heath or rushes, not far from the water, and 
 they lay twelve, fourteen, or more eggs, be- 
 fore they sit: yet this is not always their me- 
 thod ; the dangers they continually encoun- 
 ter from their ground situation, sometimes 
 obliges them to change their manner of build- 
 ing; and their awkward nests are often seen 
 exalted on the tops of trees. This must be a 
 
WATER-FOWL. 
 
 599 
 
 very great labour to perform, as the duck's 
 bill is but ill formed for building a nest, and 
 giving; the materials of which it is composed 
 a sufficient stability to stand the weather. 
 The nest, whether high or low, is generally 
 composed of singular materials. The longest 
 grass, mixed with heath, and lined with the 
 bird's own feathers, usually go to the compo- 
 sition : however, in proportion as the climate 
 is colder, the nest is more artificially made, 
 and more warmly lined. In the Arctic re- 
 gions, nothing can exceed the great care all of 
 this kind take to protect their eggs from the 
 intenseness of the weather. While the gull 
 and the penguin kind seem to disregard the 
 severest cold, the duck, in those regions, forms 
 itself a hole to lay in, shelters the approach, 
 lines it with a layer of long grass and cluy ; 
 within that another of moss; and, lastly, a 
 warm coat of feathers, or down. The eider 
 duck is particularly remarkable for the warmth 
 of its nest. This bird, which, as was said, is 
 above twice as large as the common duck, 
 and resides in the colder climates, lays from 
 six to eight eggs, making her nest among the 
 rocks or the plants along the sea-shore. The 
 external materials of the nest are such as are 
 in common with the rest of the kind ; but the 
 inside lining, on which the eggs are immedi- 
 ately deposited, is at once the softest, warmest, 
 and the lightest substance, with which we are 
 acquainted. This is no other than the inside 
 down which covers the breast of the bird in 
 the breeding season. This the female plucks 
 off with her bill, and furnishes the inside of 
 her nest with a tapestry more valuable than 
 the most skilful artists can produce. The 
 natives watch the place where she begins to 
 build, and, suffering her to lay, take away 
 both the eggs and the nest. The duck, hovv- 
 
 The Eider duck is principally found in the western 
 Islands of Scotland, and on the coasts of Norway, Iceland, 
 and Greenland. Its bill is black, and its plumage is a 
 varied mixture of black and white; the female however 
 is of a reddish brown colour, marked with black and dusky 
 streaks. They generally build on small islands, not far 
 from the shore, and the male continues on the watch near 
 the shore while the female is sitting ; but he leaves them 
 when the brood is hatched. As soon as they are able to 
 creep from the shell, the mother entices them to- the water 
 side, and taking them on her back, she swims a short dis- 
 tance with them ; when she has got them a Uttle way 
 from the land, she dives suddenly, leaving them floating 
 on the surface of the water to shift for themselves. After 
 this they are seldom found on land. 
 
 ever, not discouraged by the first disappoint- 
 ment, builds and lays in the same place a 
 second time ; and this they in the same man- 
 ner take away : the third lime she builds, but 
 the drake must supply the down from his 
 breast to line the nest with ; and if this be 
 robbed, they both forsake the place, and breed 
 there no more. This down the natives take 
 care to separate from the dirt and moss with 
 which it is mixed; and though no people 
 stand in more need of a warm covering than 
 themselves, yet their necessities compel them 
 to sell it to the more indolent and luxurious 
 inhabitants of the south for brandy and to- 
 bacco.* 
 
 As they possess the faculties of flying and 
 swimming, so they are in general birds of 
 passage, and, it is most probable, perform their 
 journeys across the ocean, as well on the water 
 as in the air. Those that migrate to this coun- 
 try, on the approach of winter, are seldom found 
 so well tasted or so fat as the fowls that con- 
 tinue with us the year round : their flesh is 
 often lean, and still oftener fishy ; which fla- 
 vour it has probably contracted in the journey, 
 as their food in the lakes of Lapland, from 
 whence they descend, is generally of the in- 
 sect kind. 
 
 As soon as they arrive among us, they are 
 generally seen flying in flocks to make a sur- 
 vey of those lakes where they intend to take 
 up their residence for the winter. In the 
 choice of these they have two objects in view; 
 to be near their food, and yet remote from in- 
 terruption. Their chief aim is to choose some 
 lake in the neighbourhood of a marsh, where 
 there is at the same time a cover of woods, and 
 where insects are found in great abundance. 
 Lakes, therefore, with a marsh on one side, 
 and a wood on the other, are seldom without 
 
 But that which renders this bird so highly valued, is the 
 celebrated Eider down, used for the beds and couches of 
 the luxurious and the effeminate. This is plucked from 
 the breast by the birds, in order to line their nests ; and 
 during the time that the female is sitting, those who are 
 concerned in the traffic, remove her, and take away the 
 down and superfluous eggs, and then carefully replace 
 her. This is done several times, and the down is again 
 produced by the birds, and she begins to lay afresh ; and 
 when the young ones leave the nest, it is completely plun- 
 dered. One female will give about half a pound of dowrij 
 which, when properly cleaned, is reduced to one half of 
 that quantity. 
 
600 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 vast quantities of wild-fowl ; and where a 
 couple are seen at any time, that is a sufficient 
 inducement to bring hundreds of others. The 
 ducks flying in the air, are often lured down 
 from their heights by the loud voice of the 
 mallard from below. Nature seems to have 
 furnished this bird with very pariicular facul- 
 ties for calling. The windpipe, where it be- 
 gins to enter the lungs, opens into a kind of 
 bony cavity, where the sound is reflected as in 
 a musical instrument, and is heard a great 
 way off. To this call all the stragglers resort; 
 and in a week or a fortnight's time, a lake, 
 that before was quite naked, is black with 
 water-fowl, that have left their Lapland re- 
 treats to keep company with our ducks who 
 never stirred from home. 
 
 They generally choose that part of the lake 
 where they are inaccessible to the approach of 
 the fowler, in which they all. appear huddled 
 together, extremely busy, and very loud. 
 What it is can employ them all the day is not 
 easy to guess. There is no food for them at 
 the place where they sit and cabal thus, as 
 they choose the middle of the lake ; and as 
 for courtship, the season for that is not yet 
 come; so that it is wonderful what can so 
 busily keep them occupied. Not one of them 
 seems a moment at rest. Now pursuing one 
 another, now screaming, then all up at once, 
 then down again ; the whole seems one strange 
 scene of bustle, with nothing to do. 
 
 They frequently go off in a more private 
 manner by night to feed in the adjacent mea- 
 dows and ditches, which they dare not ven- 
 ture to approach by day. In these nocturnal 
 adventures they are often taken ; for, though 
 a timorous bird, yet they are easily deceived, 
 and every spring seems to succeed in taking 
 them. But the greatest quantities are taken 
 in decoys; which, though well known near 
 London, are yet untried in the remoter parts 
 of the country. The manner of making and 
 managing a decoy is as follows. 
 
 A place is to be chosen for this purpose far 
 remote from the common highway, and all 
 noise of people. A decoy is best where there 
 is a large pond surrounded by a wood, and be- 
 yond that a marshy and uncultivated country. 
 When the place is chosen, the pool, if possible, 
 is to-be planted round with willows, unless a 
 wood answers the purposes of shading it on 
 every side. On the south and north side of 
 
 this pool are two, three, or four ditches or 
 channels, made broad towards the pool, and 
 growing narrower till they end in a point. 
 These channels are to be covered over with 
 nets, supported by hooped sticks bending from 
 one side to the other ; so that they form a 
 vault or arch growing narrower and narrower 
 to the point, where it is terminated by a tunnel- 
 net, like that in which fish are caught in weirs. 
 Along the banks of these channels so netted 
 over, which are called pipes, many hedges are 
 made of reeds slanting to the edge of the chan- 
 nel, the acute angles to the side next the pool. 
 The whole apparatus, also, is to be hidden 
 from the pool by a hedge of reeds along the 
 margin, behind which the fowler manages his 
 operations. The place being fitted in this 
 manner, the fowler is to provide himself with 
 a number of wild ducks made tame, which 
 are called decoys. These are always to be 
 fed at the mouth or entrance of the pipe, and 
 to be accustomed to come at a whistle. 
 
 As soon as the evening is set in, the decoy 
 rises, as they term it, and the wild-fowl feed 
 during the night. If the evening be still, the 
 noise of their wings, during their flight, is 
 heard at a very great distance, and produces 
 no unpleasing sensation. The fowler, when 
 he finds a fit opportunity, and sees his decoy 
 covered with fowl, walks about the pool, and 
 observes into what pipe the birds gathered in 
 the pool may be enticed or driven. Then 
 casting hemp-seed, or some such seed as will 
 float on the surface of the water, at the en- 
 trance, and up along the pipe, he whistles to 
 his decoy-ducks, who instantly obey the sum- 
 mons, and come to the entrance of the pipe, 
 in hopes of being fed as usual. Thither also 
 they are followed by a whole flock of wild 
 ones, who little suspect the danger preparing 
 against them-. Their sense of smelling, how- 
 ever, is very exquisite ; and they would soon 
 discover their enemy, but that .the fowler al- 
 ways keeps a piece of turf burning at his nose, 
 against which he breaths, and this prevents 
 the effluvia .of his person from reaching their 
 exquisite senses. The wild -ducks, therefore, 
 pursuing the decoy-ducks, are led into the 
 broad mouth of the channel or pipe, nor have 
 the least suspicion of the man, who keeps 
 hidden behind one of the hedges. When they 
 have got up the pipe, however, finding it grow 
 more and more narrow, they begin to suspect 
 
WATER-FOWL. 
 
 601 
 
 danger, and would return back ; but they 
 are now prevented by the man, who shows 
 himself at the broad end below. Thither, 
 therefore, they dare not return; and rise 
 they may not, as they are kept by the net 
 above from ascending. The only way left 
 them, therefore, is the narrow-funnelled net 
 at the bottom; into this they fly, and there 
 they are taken. 
 
 It often happens, however, that the wild- 
 fowl are in such a state of sleepiness or do- 
 zing, that they will not follow the decoy- 
 ducks. Use is then generally tnadeof a dog, 
 who is taught his lesson. He passes back- 
 ward and forward between the reed-hedges, 
 in which there are little holes, both for the 
 decoy-man to see, and for the little dog to pass 
 through. This attracts the eye of the wild- 
 fowl ; who, prompted by curiosity, advance 
 towards this little animal, while he all the 
 time keeps playing among the reeds, nearer 
 and nearer the funnel, till they follow him too 
 far to recede. Sometimes the dog will not 
 attract their attention till a red handkerchief, 
 or something very singular, be put about 
 him. The decoy-ducks never enter the fun- 
 nel-net with the rest, being taught to dive 
 under water as soon as the rest are driven 
 
 in. 
 
 The general season for catching fowl in 
 decoys is from the latter end of October till 
 February. The taking them earlier is pro- 
 hibited by an act of George the Second, 
 which imposes a penalty of five shillings for 
 every bird destroyed at any other season. 
 
 The Lincolnshire decoys are commonly 
 let at a certain annual rent, from five pounds 
 to twenty pounds a year; and some even 
 amount to thirty. These principally con- 
 tribute to supply the markets of London with 
 wild-fowl. The number of ducks, widgeon, 
 and teal, that are sent thither is amazing. 
 Above thirty thousand have been sent up in 
 one season from ten decoys in the neighbour- 
 hood of Wainfleet. This quantity makes 
 them so cheap on the spot, that it is asserted, 
 that several decoy-men would be glad to con- 
 
 tract for years to deliver their ducks at the 
 next town for ten-pence the couple. 
 
 To this manner of taking the wild-fowl in 
 England, I will subjoin another, still more ex- 
 traordinary, frequently practised in China. 
 Whenever the fowler sees a number of ducks 
 settled in any particular plash of water, he 
 sends off two or three gourds to float among 
 them. These gourds resemble our pompi- 
 ons ; but, being made hollow, they swim on 
 the surface of the water ; and on one pool 
 there may sometimes be seen twenty or thirty 
 of these gourds floating together. The fowl 
 at first are a little shy of coming near them ; 
 but by degrees they come nearer ; and as all 
 birds at last grow familiar with a scare-crow, 
 the ducks gather about these, and amuse 
 themselves by whetting their bills against 
 them. When the birds are as familiar with 
 the gourds as the fowler could wish, he then 
 prepares to deceive them in good earnest. 
 He hollows out one of these gourds large 
 enough to put his head in ; and, making holes 
 to breath and see through, he claps it on his 
 head. Thus accoutred, he wades slowly 
 into the water, keeping his body under, and 
 nothing but his head in the gourd above the 
 surface ; and in that manner moves imper- 
 ceptibly towards the fowls, who suspect no 
 danger. At last, however, he fairly gets in 
 among them ; while they, having been long 
 used to see gourds, take not the least fright 
 while the enemy is in the very midst of them: 
 and an insidious enemy he is; for ever as he 
 approaches a fowl, he seizes it by the legs, 
 and draws it in a jerk under water. There 
 he fastens it under his girdle, and goes to 
 the next, till he has thus loaded himself with 
 as many as he can carry away. When he 
 has got his quantity, without ever attempting 
 to disturb the rest of the fowls on the pool, 
 he slowly moves off again ; and in this man- 
 ner pays the flock three or four visits in a 
 day. Of all the various artifices for catching 
 fowl, this seems likely to be attended with 
 the greatest success, as it is the most prac- 
 tised in China. 
 
602 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 CHAPTER CXXXV. 
 
 OF THE KING FISHER. 
 
 1 will conclude this history of birds with 
 one that seems to unite in itself somewhat of 
 every class preceding. It seems at once pos- 
 sessed of appetites for prey like the rapaci- 
 ous kinds, with an attachment to water like 
 the birds of that element. It exhibits in its 
 form the beautiful plumage of the peacock, 
 the shadings of the humming-bird, the bill of 
 the crane, and the short legs of the swallow. 
 The bird I mean is the King-fisher, of which 
 many extraordinary falsehoods have been 
 propagated ; and yet of which many extra- 
 ordinary things remain to be said that are ac- 
 tually true. 
 
 The King-fisher is not much larger than a 
 swallow; its shape is clumsy; the legs dis- 
 proportionably small, and the bill dispropor- 
 tionably long; it is two inches from the base 
 to the tip; the upper chap black, and the 
 lower yellow : but the colours of this bird 
 atone for its inelegant form ; the crown of the 
 head and the coverts of the wings are of a 
 deep blackish green, spotted with bright 
 azure; the back and tail are of the most re- 
 splendent azure ; the whole under-side of the 
 body is orange-coloured; a broad mark of 
 the same passes from the bill beyond the eyes; 
 beyond that is a large white spot: the tail is 
 short, and consists of twelve feathers of a rich 
 deep blue; the feet are of a reddish yellow, 
 and the three joints of the outmost toe adhere 
 to the middle toe, while the inner toe adheres 
 only by one. 
 
 From the diminutive size, the slender short 
 legs, and the beautiful colours of this bird, 
 no person would be led to suppose it one of 
 the most rapacious little animals that skims 
 the deep. Yet it is for ever on the wing, and 
 
 Mr. Montague, who paid much attention to the man- 
 ners of this bird, says, that they never suspend themselves 
 oil the wing, and dart on their prey, like the osprey ; but 
 that they sit p;itient!y on a bough over the water, and 
 when a small fish comes near the surface, they dart on it, 
 
 feeds on fish, which it takes in surprising 
 quantities, when we consider its size and fi- 
 gure. It chiefly frequents the banks of rivers, 
 and takes its prey after the manner of the 
 osprey, balancing itself at a certain distance 
 above the water for a considerable space, 
 then darting into the deep, and seizing the 
 fish with inevitable certainty. While it re- 
 mains suspended in the air, in a bright day, 
 the plumage exhibits a beautiful variety of 
 the most dazzling and brilliant colours. It 
 might have been this extraordinary beauty 
 that has given rise to fable; for wherever 
 there is any thing uncommon, fancy is always 
 willing to increase the wonder." 
 
 Of this bird it has been said, that she built 
 her nest on the water, and thus in a few days 
 hatched and produced her young. But, to be 
 uninterrupted in this task, she was said to 
 be possessed of a charm to allay the fury of 
 the waves; and during this period the mari- 
 ner might sail with the greatest security. 
 The ancient poets are full of these fables; 
 their historians are not exempt from them. 
 Cicero has written a long poem in praise of 
 the halcyon, of which there remain but two 
 lines. Even the emperor Gordian has writ- 
 ten a poem on this subject, of which we have 
 nothing remaining. These fables have been 
 adopted each by one of the earliest fathers 
 of the church. " Behold," says St. Ambrose, 
 " the little bird, which in the midst of the win- 
 ter lays her eggs on the sand by the shore. 
 From that moment the winds are hushed ; the 
 sea becomes smooth ; and the calm continues 
 for fourteen days. This is the time she re- 
 quires ; seven days to hatch, and seven days 
 to foster her young. Their Creator has taught 
 
 and seize it with their bill. He never could observe the 
 old birds with any thing in their bills, when they went in 
 to feed their young ; from which he concludes that they 
 eject it from their stomachs for this purpose. 
 
WATER-FOWL. 
 
 603 
 
 these little animals to make their nest in the 
 midst of the most stormy season, only to ma- 
 nifest his kindness by granting them a lasting 
 calm. The seamen are not ignorant of this 
 blessing ; they call this interval of fair wea- 
 ther their halcyon days ; and they are particu- 
 larly careful to seize the opportunity, as then 
 they need fear no interruption," This, and 
 a hundred other instances, might be given of 
 the credulity of mankind with respect to this 
 bird ; they entered into speculations concern- 
 ing the manner of her calming the deep, the 
 formation of her nest, and her peculiar saga- 
 city ; at present we do not speculate, because 
 we know, with respect to our king-fisher, that 
 most of the facts are false. It may be al- 
 leged, indeed, with some show of reason, that 
 the halcyon of the ancients was a different 
 bird from our king-fisher; it may be urged, 
 that many birds, especially on the Indian 
 ocean, build a floating nest upon the sea; but 
 still the history of the ancient halcyon is clog- 
 
 fed with endless fable; and it is but an in- 
 ifferent method to vindicate falsehood, by 
 showing that a part of the story is true. 
 
 The king-fisher with which we are acquaint- 
 ed at present, has none of those powers of al- 
 laying the storm, or building upon the waves; 
 it is contented to make its nest on the banks 
 of rivers, in such situations as not to be af- 
 fected by the rising of the stream. When it 
 has found a place for its purpose, it hollows 
 out with its bill a hole about a yard deep; or 
 if it finds the deserted hole of a rat, or one 
 caused by the root of a tree decaying, it takes 
 quiet possession. This hole it enlarges at 
 the bottom to a good size ; and lining it with 
 the down of the willow, lays its eggs there 
 without any further preparation. 
 
 Its nest, or rather hole, is very different 
 from that described by the ancients, by whom 
 it is said to be made in the shape of a long- 
 necked gourd of the bones of the sea-needle. 
 The bones, indeed, are found there in great 
 quantities, as well as the scales of fishes; but 
 these are the remains of the bird's food, and 
 by no means brought there for the purposes 
 of warmth or convenience. The king-fisher, 
 as Bellonius says, feeds upon fish, but is in- 
 capable of digesting the bones and scales, 
 which he throws up again, as eagles and owls 
 are seen to do a part of their prey. These 
 
 HO. 51 & 52. 
 
 fill the bird's nest of course ; and although 
 they seem as if designedly placed there, are 
 only a kind of nuisance. 
 
 In these holes, which, from the remains of 
 fish brought there, are very foetid, the king- 
 fisher is often found with from five eggs to 
 nine. There the female continues to hatch, 
 even though disturbed; and though the nest 
 be robbed, she will again return and lay there. 
 " I have had one of those females brought me,'" 
 says Reaumur, " which was taken from her 
 nest about three leagues from my house. Af- 
 ter admiring the beauty of her colours, I let 
 her fly again, when the fond creature was in- 
 stantly seen to return back to the nest where 
 she had just before been made a captive. 
 There, joining the male, she again began to 
 lay, though it was for the third time, and though 
 the season was very far advanced. At each 
 time she had seven eggs. The older the nest 
 is, the greater quantity offish-bones and scales 
 does it contain: these are disposed without 
 any order; and sometimes take up a good 
 deal of room." 
 
 The female begins to lay early in the sea- 
 son; and excludes her first brood about the 
 beginning of April. The male, whose fideli- 
 ty exceeds even that of the turtle, brings her 
 large provisions offish while she is thus em- 
 ployed ; and she, contrary to most other birds, 
 is found plump and fat at that season. The 
 male, that used to twitter before this, now en- 
 ters the nest as quietly and as privately as 
 possible. The young ones are hatched at 
 the expiration of twenty days ; but are seen to 
 differ as well in their size as in their beauty. 
 
 As the ancients have had their fables con- 
 cerning this bird, so have the modern vulgar. 
 It is an opinion generally received among 
 them, that the flesh of the king-fisher will not 
 corrupt, and that it will even banish all ver- 
 min. This has no better foundation than 
 that which is said of its always pointing, when 
 hung up dead, with its breast to the north. 
 The only truth which can be affirmed of this 
 bird, when killed, is, that its flesh is utterly 
 unfit to be eaten; while its beautiful plumage 
 preserves its lustre longer than that of any 
 other bird we know. 
 
 Having thus given a short history of birds, 
 I own I cannot take leave of this most beau- 
 tiful part of the creation without reluctance.. 
 4R 
 
604 
 
 A HISTORY OF WATER-FOWL. 
 
 These splendid inhabitants of the air pos- 
 sess all those qualities that can sooth the 
 heart, and cheer the fancy. The brightest 
 colours, the roundest forms, the most active 
 manners, and the sweetest music. In send- 
 ing the imagination in pursuit of these, in fol- 
 lowing them to the chirping grove, the scream- 
 ing precipice, or the glassy deep, the mind 
 naturally lost the sense of its own situation, 
 and, attentive to their little sports, almost for- 
 got the TASK of describing them. Innocently 
 to amuse the imagination in this dream of life 
 is wisdom; and nothing is useless that, by 
 furnishing mental employment, keeps us for 
 a while in oblivion of those stronger appe- 
 
 tites that lead to evil. But every rank and 
 state of mankind may find something to imi- 
 tate in those delightful songsters, and we may 
 not only employ the time, but mend our lives, 
 by the contemplation. From their courage 
 in defence of their young, and their assiduity 
 in incubation, the coward may learn to be 
 brave, and the rash to be patient. The in- 
 violable attachment of some to their compa- 
 nions may give lessons of fidelity; and the 
 connubial tenderness of others, be a monitor 
 to the incontinent. Even those that are ty- 
 rants by nature never spread capricious de- 
 struction ; and, unlike man, never indict a 
 pain but when urged by necessity. 
 
A HISTORY OF FISHES IN GENERAL- 
 
 605 
 
 OF FISHES IN GENERAL. 
 
 CHAPTER CXXXVI. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 THE ocean is the great receptacle of fishes. 
 It has been thought, by some, that 11 fish are 
 naturally of that salt element ; and that they 
 have mounted up into fresh water by some 
 accidental migration. A few still swim up 
 rivers to deposit their spawn ; but of the great 
 body of fishes, of which the size is enormous 
 and the shoals are endless, those all keep to 
 the sea, and would quickly expire in fresh 
 water. In that extensive and undiscovered 
 abode, millions reside, whose manners are a 
 secret to us, and whose very form is unknown. 
 The curiosity of mankind, indeed, has drawn 
 some from their depths, and his wants many 
 more : with the figure of these at least he is 
 acquainted ; but for their pursuits, migrations, 
 societies, antipathies, pleasures, times of ges- 
 tation, and manner of bringing forth, these are 
 all hidden in the turbulent element that pro- 
 tects them. 
 
 The number offish to which we have given 
 names, and of the figure, at least, of which we 
 know something, according to Linnaeus, are 
 above four hundred. Thus to appearance, 
 indeed, the history of fish is tolerably copious ; 
 but when we come to examine, it will be 
 found that of the greatest part of these we 
 know very little. Those qualities, singulari- 
 ties, or advantages, that render animals worth 
 naming, still remain to be discovered. The 
 
 history of fishes, therefore, has little in it en* 
 tertaining : for our philosophers hitherto, in- 
 stead of studying their nature, have been em- 
 ployed in increasing their catalogues ; and 
 the reader, instead of observations or facts, is 
 presented with a long list of names, that dis- 
 gust him with their barren superfluity. It 
 must displease him to see the language of 
 science increasing, while the science itself has 
 nothing to repay the increasing tax laid upon 
 his memory. 
 
 Most fish offer us the same external form ; 
 sharp at either end, and swelling in the mid- 
 dle ; by which they are enabled to traverse 
 the fluid which they inhabit, with greater 
 celerity and ease. That peculiar shape which 
 nature has granted to most fishes, we endea- 
 vour to imitate in such vessels as are designed 
 to sail with the greatest swiftness ; however, 
 the progress of a machine moved forward in 
 the water by human contrivance, is nothing 
 to the rapidity of an animal destined by na- 
 tureto reside there. Any of the large fish over- 
 take a ship in full sail with great ease, play round 
 it without effort, and outstrip it at pleasure. 
 Every part of the body seems exerted in this 
 despatch ; the fins, the tail, and the motion of 
 the whole back-bone, assist progression ; and 
 it is to that flexibility of body at which art 
 cannot arrive, that fishes owe their great velocity 
 
 4R 
 
606 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 The chief instruments in a fish's motion, 
 are the fins ; which, in some fish, are much 
 more numerous than in others. A fish com- 
 pletely fitted for sailing, is furnished with not 
 less than two pair; also three single fins, two 
 above and one below. Thus equipped, it 
 migrates with the utmost rapidity, and takes 
 voyages of a thousand leagues in a season. 
 But it does not always happen that such fish 
 as have the greatest number of fins have the 
 swiftest motion : the shark is thought to be 
 one of the swiftest swimmers, yet it wants 
 the ventral or belly fins ; the haddock does 
 not move so swift, yet it is completely fitted 
 for motion. 
 
 But the fins serve not only to assist the ani- 
 mal in progression, but in rising or sinking, 
 in turning, or even leaping out of the water. 
 To answer these purposes, the pectoral fins 
 serve, like oars, to push the animal forward ; 
 they are placed at some little distance be- 
 hind the opening of the gills; they are gene- 
 rally large and strong, and answer the same 
 purposes to the fish in the water, as wings do 
 to a bird in the air. With the help of these, 
 and by their continued motion, the flying-fish 
 is sometimes seen to rise out of the water, 
 and to fly above an hundred yards; till, 
 fatigued with its exertions, it is obliged to 
 sink down again. These also serve to balance 
 the fish's head, when it is too large for the 
 body, and keep it from tumbling prone to the 
 bottom, as is seen in large-headed fishes, 
 when the pectoral fins are cut off. Next 
 these are seen the ventral fins, placed towards 
 the lower part of the body, under the belly ; 
 these are always seen to lie flat on the water, 
 in whatever situation the fish may be ; and 
 they serve rather to raise or depress the fish 
 in its element, than to assist progressive mo- 
 tion. The dorsal fin is situated along the 
 ridge of the back; and serves to keep it in 
 equilibrio, as also to assist its progressive mo- 
 tion. In many fishes this is wanting ; but in 
 all flat fishes it is very large, as the pectoral 
 fins are proportionably small. The anal fin 
 occupies that part of the fish which lies be- 
 tween the anus and the tail ; and this serves 
 to keep the fish in its upright or vertical situa- 
 tion. Lastly, the tail, which in some fishes 
 is flat, and upright in others, seems the grand 
 instrument of motion; the fins are but all 
 
 subservient to it, and give direction to its 
 great impetus, by which the fish seems to dart 
 forward with to much velocity. To explain 
 all this by experiment; a carp is taken, and 
 put into a large vessel. The fish, in a state 
 of repose, spreads all its fins, and seems to 
 rest upon its pectoral and ventral fins near 
 the bottom : if the fish folds up (for it has the 
 power of folding) either of its pectoral fins, 
 it inclines to the same side : folding the right 
 pectoral fin, the fish inclines to the right side; 
 folding the left fin, it inclines to that side in 
 turn. When the fish desires to have a retro- 
 grade motion, striking with the pectoral fins, 
 in a contrary direction, effectually produces 
 it. If the fish desires to turn, a blow from the 
 tail sends it about ; but if the tail strikes both 
 ways, then the motion is progressive. In 
 pursuance of these observations, if the dorsal 
 and ventral fins be cut oJF, the fish reels to 
 the right arid left, and endeavours to supply 
 its loss by keeping the rest of its fins in con- 
 stant employment. If the right pectoral fin 
 be cut off, the fish leans to that side; if the 
 ventral fin on the same side be cut away, 
 then it loses its equilibrium entirely. When 
 the tail is cut ofF, the fish loses all motion, 
 and gives itself up to where the water impels 
 it. 
 
 From hence it appears, that each of these 
 instruments has a peculiar use assigned it; 
 but, at the same time, that they all conspire 
 to assist each other's motions. Some fish 
 are possessed of all, whose motions are yet 
 not the swiftest; others have but a part, and 
 yet dart in the water with great rapidity. 
 The number, the size, and the situation of 
 the fins, therefore, seem rather calculated to 
 correspond with the animal's figure, than 
 solely to answer the purposes of promoting 
 its speed. Where the head is large and 
 heavy, there the pectoral fins are large, and 
 placed forward, to keep it from oversetting. 
 Where the head is small, or produced out 
 into a long beak, and therefore not too heavy 
 for the tail, the pectoral fins are small, and 
 the ventral fins totally wanting. 
 
 As most animals that live upon land are 
 furnished with a covering to keep ofT the in- 
 juries of the weather, so all that live in the 
 water are covered with a slimy glutinous 
 matter, that, like a sheath, defends their bo- 
 
FISHES IN GENERAL. 
 
 607 
 
 dies from the immediate contact of a surround- 
 ing fluid. This substance may be considered 
 as a secretion from the pores of the animal's 
 body ; and serving not only to defend, but lo 
 - assist the fish's easy progress through the: 
 water. Beneath this, in many kinds, is found 
 a strong covering of scales, that, like a coat 
 of mail, defend it still more powerfully; and 
 under that, before we come to the muscular 
 parts of the body, an oily substance, which 
 supplies the requisite warmth and vigour. 
 
 The fish thus protected and fitted for mo- 
 tion in its natural element, seems as well fur- 
 nished with the means of happiness as quad- 
 rupeds or birds; but if we come to examine 
 its faculties more nearly, we shall find it very 
 much their inferior. The sense of touching, 
 which beasts and birds have in a small de- 
 gree, the fish, covered up in its own coat of 
 mail, can have but little acquaintance with. 
 
 The sense of smelling, which in beasts is 
 so exquisite, and among birds is not wholly 
 unknown, seems given to fishes in a very mo- 
 derate proportion. It is true, that all fishes 
 have one or more nostrils; and even those 
 that have not the holes perceptible without, 
 yet have the proper formation of the bones 
 for smelling within. But as air is the only 
 medium we know for thedistribution of odours, 
 it cannot be supposed that these animals, re- 
 siding in water, can be possessed of any 
 power of being affected by them. If they 
 have any perception of smells, it must be in 
 the same manner as we distinguish by our 
 taste; and, it is probable, the olfactory mem- 
 brane in fish serves them instead of a distin- 
 guishing palate: and by this they judge of 
 substances, that, first tincturing the water 
 with their vapours, are thus sent to the nos- 
 trils of the fish, and no doubt produce some 
 kind of sensation. This most probably must 
 be the use of that organ in those animals, as 
 otherwise there would be the instruments of 
 a sense provided for them, without any power 
 in them of enjoyment 
 
 As to tasting, they seem to make very little 
 distinction; the palate of most fish is hard 
 and bony, and consequently incapable of the 
 powers of relishing different substances. This 
 sense among quadrupeds, who possess it in 
 some degree, arises from the soft pliancy of 
 the organ, and the delicacy of the skin which 
 
 covers the instruments of tasting; it may be 
 considered, in them, as a more perfect and 
 delicate kind of feeling : in the bony palate 
 offish, therefore, all powers of distinguishing 
 are utterly taken away ; and we have accord- 
 ingly often seen these voracious animals swal- 
 low the fisherman's plummet instead of the 
 bait. 
 
 Hearing in fishes is found still more imper- 
 fect, if it be found at all. Certain it is, that 
 anatomists have not been able to discover, 
 except in the whale kind, the smallest traces 
 of an organ, either within or without the head 
 of fishes. It is true, that in the centre of the 
 brain of some fishes are found now and then 
 some little bones, the number and situation 
 of which are entirely accidental. These 
 bones Mr. Klein has supposed to constitute 
 the organ of hearing ; but if we consider their 
 entire dissimilitude to the bones that serve 
 for hearing in other animals, we shall be of 
 another opinion. The greatest number of 
 fishes are deprived of these bones entirely : 
 some fish have them in small numbers, and 
 others in abundance : yet neither testify any 
 excellence or defect in hearing. Indeed, of 
 what advantage would this sense be to ani- 
 mals that are incapable of making themselves 
 heard ? They have no voice to communicate 
 to each other, and consequently have no need 
 of an organ for hearing. Mr. Gouan, who kept 
 some gold fishes in a vase, informs us, that 
 whatever noise he made, he could neither dis- 
 turb nor terrify them ; he halloed as loud as 
 he could, putting a piece of paper between 
 his mouth and the water, to prevent the vi- 
 brations from affecting the surface, and the 
 fishes still seemed insensible: but when the 
 paper was removed, and the sound had its 
 full play upon the water, the fishes seemed 
 instantly to feel the change, and shrunk to 
 the bottom. From this we may learn, that 
 fishes are as deaf as they are mute: and that 
 when they seem to hear the call of a whistle 
 or a bell at the edge of a pond, it is rather 
 the vibrations of the sound that affect the wa- 
 ter, by which they are excited, than any 
 sounds that they hear. 
 
 Seeing seems to be the sense fishes are pos- 
 sessed of in the greatest degree ; and yet even 
 this seems obscure, if we compare it to that 
 of other animals. The eye, in almost all fish, 
 
608 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 is covered with the same transparent skin that 
 covers the rest of the head ; and which, pro- 
 bably, serves to defend it in the water, as 
 they are without eye-lids. The globe is more 
 depressed anteriorly, and is furnished behind 
 with a muscle, which serves to lengthen or 
 flatten it, according to the necessities of the 
 animal. The crystalline humour, whicli in 
 quadrupeds is flat, and of the shape of a but- 
 ton-mould, in fishes is as round as a pea; or 
 sometimes oblong, like an egg. From all this 
 it appears, that fish are extremely near-sight- 
 ed ; and that even in the water they can see 
 objects at a very small distance. This dis- 
 tance might very easily be ascertained, by 
 comparing the refraction of bodies in the wa- 
 ter, with that formed by a lens that is spheri- 
 cal. Those unskilled in mathematical calcu- 
 lations, will have a general idea of this, from 
 the glasses used by near-sighted people. 
 Those whose crystalline humour is too con- 
 vex, or, in other words, too round, are always 
 very near-sighted ; and obliged to use con- 
 cave glasses, to correct the imperfections of 
 nature. The crystalline humour offish is so 
 round, that it is not in the power of any glass- 
 es, much less of water, to correct their vision. 
 This crystalline humour in fishes all must 
 have seen; being that little hard pea-like sub- 
 stance which is found in their eyes after boil- 
 ing. In the natural state it is transparent, 
 and not much hardef*than a jelly. 
 
 From all this it appears how far fish fall 
 behind terrestrial animals in their sensations, 
 and consequently in their enjoyments. Even 
 their brain, which is by some supposed to be 
 of a size with every animal's understanding, 
 shows that fish are inferior even to birds in 
 this particular. It is divided into three parts, 
 surrounded with a whitish froth, and gives oflf 
 nerves as well to the sense of sightas of smell- 
 ing. In some fish it is gray, in others white; 
 in some it is flatted, in others round ; but in 
 all extremely small, compared to the bulk of 
 the animal. 
 
 Thus Nature seems to havie fitted these 
 animals with appetites and powers of an in- 
 ferior kind ; and formed them for a sort of 
 passive existence in the obscure and heavy 
 element to which they are consigned. To 
 preserve their own existence, and to continue 
 it to their posterity, fill up the whole circle 
 
 of their pursuits and enjoyments; to these 
 they are impelled rather by necessity than 
 choice, and seem mechanically excited to 
 every fruition. Their senses are incapable 
 of making any distinctions; but they drive 
 forward in pursuit of whatever they can swal- 
 low, conquer, or enjoy. 
 
 A ceaseless desire of food seems to give 
 the ruling impulse to all their motions. This 
 appetite impels them to encounter every dan- 
 ger; and indeed their rapacity seems insa- 
 tiable. Even when taken out of the water, 
 and almost expiring, they greedily swallow 
 the very bait by which they were allured to 
 destruction. 
 
 The maw is, in general, placed next the 
 mouth, and though possessed of no sensible 
 heat, is, however, endued with a surprising 
 faculty of digestion. Its digestive power seems, 
 in some measure, to increase with the quan- 
 tity *o food it is supplied with; a single pike 
 having been known to devour a hundred 
 roaches in three days. Its faculties also are 
 as extraordinary; for it digests not only fish, 
 but much harder substances; prawns, crabs, 
 and lobsters, shells and all. These the cod 
 or the sturgeon will not only devour, but dis- 
 solve down, though their shells are so much 
 harder than the sides of the stomach which 
 contains them. This amazing faculty in the 
 cold maw of fishes, has justly excited the cu- 
 riosity of philosophers ; and has effectually 
 overturned the system of those, who supposed 
 that the heat of the stomach was alone a suffi- 
 cient instrument for digestion. The truth 
 seems to be, and some experiments of the 
 skilful Dr. Hunter seem to evince, that there 
 is a power of animal assimilation lodged 
 in the stomach of all creatures, which we can 
 neither describe nor define, converting the 
 substances they swallow into a fluid fitted for 
 their own peculiar support. This is done 
 neither by trituration, nor by warmth, nor by 
 motion, nor by a dissolving fluid, nor by their 
 united efforts; but by some principle in the 
 stomach yet unknown, which acts in a differ- 
 ent manner from all kinds of artificial mace- 
 ration. The meat taken into the stomach or 
 maw is often seen, though very near being 
 digested, still to retain its original form : and 
 ready for a total dissolution, while it appears 
 to the eye as yet untouched by the force of 
 
FISHES IN GENERAL. 
 
 609 
 
 the stomach. This animal power is lodged 
 in the maw of fishes, in a greater degree than 
 in any other creatures ; their digestive powers 
 are quick, and their appetites ever are craving. 
 
 Yet though fish are thus hungry, and for 
 ever prowling, I10 animals can suffer the want 
 of food for so long a time. The gold and 
 silver fish we keep in vases, seem never to 
 want any nourishment at all : whether it be 
 that they feed on the water insects, too minute 
 for our observation, or that water alone is a 
 sufficient supply, is not evident ; but they are 
 often seen for months without apparent suste- 
 nance. Even the pike, the most voracious of 
 fishes, will live in a pond where there is none 
 but himself; and, what is more extraordinary, 
 will be often found to thrive there. 
 
 Still, however, fishes are of all other ani- 
 mals the most voracious and insatiable. What- 
 ever any of them is able to swallow, possessed 
 of life, seems to be considered as the most de- 
 sirable food. Some that have very small 
 mouths feed upon worms and the spawn of 
 other fish ; others, whose mouths are larger, 
 s?ek larger prey ; it matters not of what kind, 
 whether of another or their own. Those 
 with the largest mouths pursue almost every 
 thing that has life; and often meet each other 
 in fieiva opposition, when the fish with the 
 largest swallow comes off with the victory, 
 and devours its antagonist. 
 
 Thus are they irritated by the continual 
 desire of satisfying their hunger ; and the life 
 of a fish, from the smallest to the greatest, is 
 but one scene of hostility, violence, and eva- 
 sion. But the smaller fry stand no chance in 
 the unequal combat ; and their usual way of 
 escaping is by swimming into those shallows 
 where the greater are unable, or too heavy, to 
 pursue. There they become invaders in turn, 
 and live upon the spawn of larger fish, which 
 they find floating upon the surface of the wa- 
 ter ; yet there are dangers attending them in 
 every place. Even in the shallows, the mus- 
 sel, the oyster, and the scallop, lie in ambush 
 at the bottom, with their shells open, and 
 whatever little fish inadvertently approaches 
 into contact, they at once close their shells 
 upon him, and devour the imprisoned prey at 
 their leisure. 
 
 Nor is the pursuit of fishes, like that of ter- 
 restrial animals, confined to a single region, 
 or to one effort : shoals of one species follow 
 
 those of another through vast tracks of ocean, 
 from the vicinity of the pole, even down to the 
 equator. Thus the cod, from the banks of 
 Newfoundland, pursues the whiting, which 
 flies before it even to the southern shores of 
 Spain. The cachalot is said, in the same 
 manner, to pursue a shoal of herrings, and to 
 swallow thousands at a gulp. 
 
 This may be one cause of the annual mi- 
 gration of fishes from one part of the ocean to 
 the other ; but there are other motives which 
 come in aid of this also. Fishes may be in- 
 duced to change the place of their residence, 
 for one more suited to their constitutions, or 
 more adapted to depositing their spawn. It 
 is remarkable that no fish are fond of very 
 cold waters, and generally frequent those 
 places where it is warmest. Thus, in summer, 
 they are seen in great numbers in the shallows 
 near the shore, where the sun has power to 
 warm the water to the bottom ; on the con- 
 trary, in winter, they are found towards the 
 bottom in the deep sea ; for the cold of the 
 atmosphere is not sufficiently penetrating to 
 reach them at those great depths. Cold pro- 
 duces the same effect upon fresh-water fishes ; 
 and when they are often seen dead after 
 severe frosts, it is most probable that they 
 have been killed by the severity of the cold, 
 as well as by their being excluded by the ice 
 from air. 
 
 All fish live in the water ; yet they all stand 
 in need of air for their support. Those of the 
 whale kind, indeed, breath air in the same 
 manner as we do, and come to the surface 
 every two or three minutes to take a fresh in- 
 spiration ; but those which continue entirely 
 under water, are yet under a necessity of be- 
 ing supplied with air, or they will expire in a 
 very few minutes. We sometimes see all 
 the fish of a pond killed, when the ice every 
 where covers the surface of the water, and 
 thus keeps off the air from the subjacent fluid. 
 If a hole be made in the ice, the fish will be 
 seen to come all to that part, in order to take 
 the benefit of a fresh supply. Should a carp, 
 in a large vase of water, be placed under an 
 air-pump, and then be deprived of its air, 
 during the operation a number of bubbles will 
 be seen standing on the surface of the fish's 
 body; soon after the animal will appear to 
 breath swifter, and with greater difficulty ; it 
 will then be seen to rise towards the surface, 
 
610 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 to get more air ; the bubbles on the surface 
 begin to disappear ; the belly, that was before 
 swollen, will then fall of a sudden ; and the 
 animal sinks expiring and convulsed at the 
 bottom. 
 
 So very necessary is air to all animals, but 
 particularly to fish, that, as was said, they can 
 live but a few minutes without it ; yet nothing 
 is more difficult to be accounted for than the 
 manner in which they obtain this necessary 
 supply. Those who have seen a fish in the 
 water, must remember the motion of its lips 
 and its gills, or at least of the bones on each 
 side that cover them. This motion in the ani- 
 mal is, without doubt, analogous to our breath- 
 ing ; but it is not air, but water, that the fish 
 actually sticks in and spouts out through the 
 gills at every motion. The manner of its 
 breathing is thus : the fish first takes in a 
 
 auantity of water by the mouth, which is 
 riven to the gills ; these close and keep the 
 water so swallowed from returning by the 
 mouth ; while the bony covering of the gills 
 prevents k from going through them, until 
 the animal lias drawn the proper quantity of 
 air from the body of water thus imprisoned : 
 then the bony covers open, and give it a free 
 passage ; by which means also the gills again 
 are opened, and admit a fresh quantity of 
 water. Should the fish be prevented from the 
 free play of its gills, or should the bony covers 
 be kept from moving, by a string tied round 
 them, the animal would soon fall into convul- 
 sions, and die in a few minutes. 
 
 But though this be the general method of 
 explaining respiration in fishes, the difficulty 
 remains to know what is done with this air, 
 which the fish in this manner separates from 
 the water. There seems no receptacle for con- 
 taining it ; the stomach being the chief cavity 
 within the body, is too much filled with aliment 
 for that purpose. There is indeed a cavity, 
 and that a pretty large one, I mean the air- 
 bladder or swim, which may serve to contain 
 it for vital purposes ; but that our philosophers 
 have long destined to a very different use. 
 The use universallyassigned to the air-bladder, 
 is the enabling the fish to rise or sink in the 
 water at pleasure, as that is dilated or com- 
 pressed. The use assigned by the ancients 
 fur it was to come in aid of the lungs, and to 
 remain as a kind of store- house of air to sup- 
 ply the animal in its necessities. I own my 
 
 attachment to this last opinion ; but let us ex- 
 hibit both with their proper share of evidence, 
 and the reader must be left to determine. 
 
 The air-bladder is described as a bag filled 
 with air, sometimes composed of one, some- 
 times of two, and sometimes of three divisions, 
 situated towards the back of the fish, and 
 opening into the maw or the gullet. Those 
 who contend that this bag is designed for rais- 
 ing or depressing the fish in the water, build 
 upon the following experiment : A carp being 
 put into the air-pump, and the air exhausted, 
 the bladder is said to expand itself to such a 
 degree, that the fish swells in an extraordinary 
 manner, till the bladder bursts, and then the 
 fish sinks, and ever after continues to crawl at 
 the bottom. On another occasion, the air- 
 bladder was pricked and wounded, which let 
 out its air ; upon which the fish sunk to the 
 bottom, and was not seen to rise after. From 
 thence it is inferred, that the use of the air- 
 bladder must be by swelling, at the will of the 
 animal, thus to increase the surface of the fish's 
 body, and thence diminishing its specific 
 gravity, to enable it to rise to the top of the 
 water, and keep there at pleasure. On the 
 contrary, when the fish wants to descend, it is, 
 say they, but to exhaust this bladder of its air; 
 and the fish bring thus rendered slimi.fer and 
 heavier, consequently sinks to the bottom. 
 
 Such is the account given of the use of the 
 air-bladder ; no part of which seems to me 
 well supported. In the first place, though 
 nothing is more certain, than that a carp put 
 into the air-pump will swell, yet so v\\] a 
 mouse or a frog ; and these we know to have 
 no air-bladders. A carp will rise to the sur- 
 face ; but so will all fish that want air, 
 whether they have an air-bladder or not. 
 The air-bladder is said to burst in the experi- 
 ment ; but that I deny. The air-bladder is 
 indeed found empty, but it has suffered no 
 laceration, and may be distended by being 
 blown into like any other bladder that is sound. 
 The fish after the experiment, I grant, con- 
 tinues to creep at the bottom ; and so will all 
 fish that arc sick and wounded, which must 
 be the case with this aftor such an operation. 
 Thus these facts prove nothing, but that when 
 the fish is killed in an air pump the air-blad- 
 der is found exhausted, and that it will natu- 
 rally and necessarily be ; for the drain of air 
 by which the fish is supplied in the natural 
 
FISHES IN GENERAL. 
 
 611 
 
 way will necessarily oblige it to make use of 
 all its hidden stores; and, as there is a com- 
 munication between the gullet and the air- 
 bladder, the air which the latter contains 
 will thus be obviously drawn away. But 
 still farther, how comes the air-bladder, ac- 
 cording to their hypothesis, to swell under 
 the experiment of the air-pump ? What is it 
 that closes the aperture of that organ in such 
 a manner as at last to burst it? or what 
 necessity has the fish for diluting it to that 
 violent degree? At most, it only wants to 
 rise to the surface; and that the fish can 
 easily do without so great a distention of the 
 air-bladder. Indeed, it should rather seem 
 that the more the air was wanted without, 
 the less necessity there was for its being use- 
 lessly accumulated within ; and, to make the 
 modern system consistent, the fish under the 
 air-pump, instead of permitting its bladder 
 to be burst, would readily give up its con- 
 tents ; which, upon their supposition, all can 
 do at pleasure. 
 
 But the truth is, the fish can neither in- 
 crease nor diminish the quantity of air in its 
 air-bladder at will, no more than we can that 
 which is contained in our stomachs. The 
 animal has no one muscle, much less a pair 
 of muscles, for contracting or dilating this 
 organ ; its aperture is from the gullet ; and 
 what air is put into it must remain there till 
 the necessities, and not the will, of the ani- 
 mal call it forth as a supply. 
 
 But, to put the matter past a doubt, many 
 fish are furnished with an air-bladder, that 
 continually crawl at the bottom; such as the 
 eel and the flounder ; and many more are 
 entirely without any bladder, that swim at 
 ease in every depth ; such as the anchovy 
 and fresh-water gudgeon." Indeed, the num- 
 ber of fish that want this organ is alone a suf- 
 ficient proof that it is not so necessary for 
 the purposes of swimming ; and as the ven- 
 tral fins, which in all fish lie flat upon the 
 water, seem fully sufficient to keep them at 
 all depths, I see no great occasion for this in- 
 ternal philosophical apparatus for raising and 
 depressing them. Upon the whol 3 , the air- 
 bladder seems adapted for different purposes 
 than that of keeping the fish at different 
 
 Redi. 
 wo. 51 Hi 52. 
 
 depths in the water: but whether it be to 
 supply them with air when it is wanted from 
 without, or for what other purpose, I will not 
 take upon me to determine. 
 
 Hitherto we have seen fish in every respect 
 inferior to land animals : in the simplicity of 
 their conformation, in their senses, and their 
 enjoyments ; but of that humble existence 
 which they have been granted by nature, 
 they have a longer term than any other class 
 of animated nature. " Most of the disorders 
 incident to mankind," says Bacon, " arise 
 from the changes and alterations of the atmos- 
 phere ; but fishes reside in an element little 
 subject to change ; theirs is an uniform ex- 
 istence ; their movements are without effort, 
 and their life without labour. Their bones 
 also, which are united by cartilages, admit 
 of indefinite extension ; and the different 
 sizes of animals of the same kind, among 
 fishes, is very various. They still keep 
 growing; their bodies, instead of suffering 
 the rigidity of age, which is the cause of 
 natural decay in land animals, still continue 
 increasing with fresh supplies; and as the 
 body grows, the conduits of life furnish their 
 stores in greater abundance. How long a 
 fish, that seems to have scarcely any bounds 
 put to its growth, continues to live, is not 
 ascertained ; perhaps the life of a man 
 would not be long enough to measure that of 
 the smallest. 
 
 There have been two methods devised for 
 determining the age of fishes, which are more 
 ingenious than certain ; the one is by the 
 circles of the scales, the other by the transverse 
 section of the back-bone. The first method 
 is this: When a fish's scale is examined 
 through a microscope, it will be found to con- 
 sist of a number of circles, one circle within 
 another, in some measure resembling those 
 which appear upon the transverse section of a 
 tree, and supposed to offer the same informa- 
 tion. For as in trees we can tell their age by 
 die number of their circles, so in fishes we can 
 tell theirs by the number of circles in every scale, 
 reckoning one ring for every year of the ani- 
 mal's existence. By this method, Mr. Buffon 
 found a carp, whose scales he examined, to 
 be not less than a hundred years old ; a thing 
 almost incredible, had we not several accounts 
 in oilier authors which tend to confirm the 
 
 4S 
 
612 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 discovery. Gesner brings us an instance of 
 one of the same age; and Albertus of one 
 more than double that period. 
 
 The age of the skate and the ray, that want 
 scales, may be known by the other method ; 
 which is, by separating the joints of the back- 
 bone, and then minutely observing the num- 
 ber of rings, which the surface where it has 
 joined exhibits. By this the fish's age is said 
 to be known ; and perhaps with as much cer- 
 tainty as in the former instance. 
 
 But how unsatisfactory soever these marks 
 may be, we have no reason to doubt the great 
 age of some fishes. Those that have ponds, 
 often know the oldest by their superior size. 
 But the longevity of these animals is nothing 
 when compared to their fecundity. All sorts, 
 a few of the larger ones excepted, multiply 
 their kind, some by hundreds, and some by 
 millions. There are some that bring forth 
 their young alive, and some that only produce 
 eggs: the former are rather the least fruitful; 
 yet even these are seen to produce in great 
 abundance. The viviparous blenny, for in- 
 stance, brings forth two or three hundred at 
 a time, all alive and playing round the parent 
 together. Those who exclude their progeny 
 in a more imperfect state, and produce eggs, 
 which they are obliged to leave to chance, 
 either on the bottom at the edge of the wa- 
 ter, or floating on the surface where it is deep- 
 er, are all much more prolific ; and seem to 
 proportion their stock to the danger there is 
 of its consumption. Of these eggs thus de- 
 posited, scarcely one in a hundred brings 
 forth an animal ; they are devoured by all the 
 lesser fry that frequent the shores ; by aqua- 
 tic birds near the margin; and by the larger 
 fish in deep water. Still, however, there are 
 enough for supplying the deep with inhabi- 
 tants; and, notwithstanding their own rapa- 
 city, and that of the fowls of various tribes, 
 the numbers that escape are sufficient to re- 
 lieve the wants of a very considerable part of 
 mankind. Indeed, when we consider the num- 
 bers that a single fish is capable of producing, 
 the amount will seem astonishing. If, for 
 instance, we should be told of a being so 
 very prolific, that in a single season it could 
 bring forth as many of its kind as there are 
 inhabitants in England, it would strike us with 
 surprise ; yet a single cod produces full that 
 
 number. The cod spawns in one season, as 
 Lewenhoeck assures us, above nine million 
 of eggs or peas, contained in one single roe. 
 The flounder is commonly known to produce 
 above one million ; and the mackarel above 
 five hundred thousand. Such an amazing in- 
 crease, if permitted to come to maturity, 
 would overstock nature, and even the ocean 
 itself would not be able to contain, much less 
 to provide for, the half of its inhabitants. But 
 two wise purposes are answered by this ama- 
 zing increase ; it preserves the species in the 
 midst of numberless enemies, and serves to 
 furnish the rest with a sustenance adapted to 
 their nature. 
 
 Fishes seem, all except the whale kind, en- 
 tirely divested of tho^e parental solicitudes 
 which so strongly mark the manners of the 
 more perfect terrestrial animals. How far 
 they copulate, remains as yet a doubt; for 
 though they seem to join, yet the male is not 
 furnished with any external instrument of ge- 
 neration. It is said, by some, that his only 
 end in that action is to emit his impregnating 
 milk upon the eggs that at that time fall from 
 the female. He is said to be seen pursuing 
 them as they float down the stream, and care- 
 fully impregnating them one after another. 
 On some occasions also the females dig holes 
 in the bottom of rivers and ponds, and there 
 deposit their spawn, which is impregnated by 
 the male in the same manner. All this, how- 
 ever, is very doubtful; what we know with 
 certainty of the matter, and that not discover- 
 ed till very lately, is, that the male has two 
 organs of generation that open into the blad- 
 der of urine, and that these organs do not 
 open into the rectum as in birds, but have a 
 particular aperture of their own." These or- 
 gans of generation in the male are empty at 
 some seasons of the year ; but before t he time 
 of spawning they are turgid with what is call- 
 ed the milt, and emit the fluid proper for im- 
 pregnation. 
 
 Fish have different seasons for depositing 
 their spawn: some, that live in the depths of 
 the ocean, are said to choose the winter 
 months; but, in general, those with which 
 we are acquainted, choose the hottest months 
 in summer, and prefer such water as is some- 
 
 Vide Gaman de Generatione Piscium. 
 
FISHES IN GENERAL. 
 
 613 
 
 what tepified by the beams of the sun. They 
 then leave the deepest parts of the ocean, 
 which are the coldest, and shoal round the 
 coasts, or swim up the fresh-water rivers, 
 which are warm as they are comparatively 
 shallow. When they have deposited their 
 burdens, they then return to their old stations, 
 and leave their nascent progeny to shift for 
 themselves. 
 
 The spawn continues in its egg-state in 
 some fish longer than in others, and this in 
 proportion to the animal's size. In the sal- 
 mon, tor instance, the young animal continues 
 in the egg from the beginning of December 
 till the beginning of April ; the carp continues 
 in the egg not above three weeks ; the little 
 gold fish from China, is produced still quicker. 
 These all, when excluded, at first escape by 
 their minuteness and agility. They rise, sink, 
 and turn, much readier than grown fish ; and 
 they can escape into very shallow waters 
 when pursued. But. with all their advantages, 
 scarcely one in a thousand survives the nu- 
 merous perils of its youth. The very male 
 and female that have given them birth, are 
 equally dangerous and formidable with the 
 rest, forgetting all relation at their depar- 
 ture. 
 
 Such is the general picture of these heed- 
 less and hungry creatures: but there are 
 some in this class, living in the waters, that 
 are possessed of finer organs and higher sen- 
 sations; that have all the tenderness of birds 
 or quadrupeds for their young; that nurse 
 them with constant care, and protect them 
 from every injury. Of this class are the Ce- 
 taceous tribe, or the fishes of the whale kind. 
 There are others, though not capable of 
 nursing their young, yet that bring them alive 
 into the world, and defend them with courage 
 and activity. These are the Cartilaginous 
 kinds, or those who have gristles instead of 
 bones. But the fierce unmindful tribe we 
 have been describing, that leave their spivvn 
 without any protection, are called the Spi- 
 nous or bony kinds, from their bones resem- 
 bling the sharpness of thorns. 
 
 Thus there are three grand divisions in the 
 
 Though fishes live in a salt element, they do not sub- 
 sist on it. All the water they take into their mouths is 
 again discharged through the gills, after retaining the air 
 
 fish kind ; the cetaceous, the cartilaginous, and 
 the spinous ; all differing from each other in 
 their conformation, their appetites, in their 
 bringing forth, and in the education of their 
 young. These three great distinctions are 
 not the capricious differences formed by a 
 maker of systems, but are strongly and firm- 
 ly marked in nature. These are the distinc- 
 tions of Aristotle; and they have been adopt- 
 ed by mankind ever since his time. It will 
 be necessary, therefore, to give the history of 
 each of these in particular; and then to range, 
 under each head, those fishes whose history 
 is the most remarkable; or, more properly 
 speaking, those of which we have any histo- 
 ry. For we shall find, when we come to any 
 of the species in particular, how little can be 
 said of their habits, their stations, or method 
 of propagation. 
 
 Much, indeed, can be said of them if con- 
 sidered relatively to man ; and large books 
 have been written of the manner of taking fish ; 
 or of dressing them. Apicius is noted for 
 having first taught mankind to suffocate fish 
 in Carthaginian pickle ; and Quin, for giving 
 a sauce to the Johndory: Mrs. Glasse is fa- 
 mous for her eel-pie, and Mr. Tull for his in- 
 vention of spaying carp, to give it a finer fla- 
 vour. In this manner our cooks handle the 
 subject. On the other hand, our physicians 
 assure us that the flesh of fishes yields little 
 nourishment, and soon corrupts; that it 
 abounds in a gross sort of oil and water, and 
 hath but a few volatile particles, which ren- 
 der it less fit to be converted into the sub- 
 stance of our bodies. They are cold and 
 moist, and must needs, say they, produce 
 juices of the same kind, and consequently are 
 improper to strengthen the body. In this di- 
 versity of opinion, it is the wisest way to eat 
 our fish in the ordinary manner, and pay no 
 great attention to cooks or doctors. 
 
 I cannot conclude this chapter without put- 
 ting a question to the learned, which, I con- 
 fess, I am not able to resolve. How comes it 
 that fish, which are bred in a salt element, 
 have yet no salt to the taste, or that is capa- 
 ble of being extracted from them ? a 
 
 contained in it for the purposes of life. The medium of 
 water answers the precise purpose to fishes, that the me- 
 dium of air does to man and other land animals. In in- 
 4S 
 
614 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 CHAPTER CXXXVH. 
 
 OF CETACEOUS FISHES IN GENERAL. 
 
 AS on land there are some orders of ani- 
 mals that seem formed to command the rest, 
 with greater powers and more various in- 
 stincts, so in the ocean there are fishes which 
 seem formed upon a nobler plan than others, 
 and that, to their fishy form, join the appe- 
 tites and the conformation of quadrupeds. 
 These are all of the cetaceous kind ; and so 
 much raised above their fellows of the deep, 
 in their appetites and instincts, that almost 
 all our modern naturalists have fairly ex- 
 cluded them from the tinny tribes, and will 
 have them called, not fishes, but, great beasts 
 of the ocean. With them it would be as im- 
 proper to say men go to Greenland fishing 
 for whale, as it would be to say that a sports- 
 man goes to Blackwall a fowling for macka- 
 rel. 
 
 Yet, notwithstanding philosophers, man- 
 kind will always have their own way of talk- 
 ing; and, for my own part, I think them here 
 in the right. A different formation of the 
 lungs, stomach, and intestines; a different 
 manner of breathing or propagating; are not 
 sufficient to counterbalance the great obvious 
 analogy which these animals bear to the 
 whole finny tribe. They are shaped as other 
 fishes ; they swim with fins ; they are entirely 
 naked, without hair; they live in the water, 
 though they come up to breath ; they are 
 only seen in the depths of the ocean, and 
 never come upon shore but when forced 
 thither. These, surely, are sufficient to plead 
 in favour of the general denomination, and 
 acquit mankind of error in ranking them with 
 their lower companions of the deep. 
 
 But still they are many degrees raised 
 above other fishes in their nature, as they are 
 in general in their size. This tribe is com- 
 
 spiration the element is received into the lungs or gills, 
 and in expiration is returned deprived of its purer parts, 
 which are retained for the purpose of animal economy. 
 And whatever salt may be taken into the stomachs of 
 fishes with their food, is decomposed and separated into 
 
 posed of the Whale and its varieties, of the 
 Cachalot, the Dolphin, the Grampus, and the 
 Porpoise. All these resemble quadrupeds 
 in their internal structure, and in some of 
 their appetites and affections. Like quadru- 
 peds, they have lungs, a midriff", a stomach, 
 intestines, liver, spleen, bladder, and parts of 
 generation ; their heart also resembles that 
 of quadrupeds, with its partitions closed up 
 as in them, and driving red and warm blood 
 in circulation through the body. In short, 
 every internal part bears a most striking 
 similitude; and to keep these parts warm, 
 the whole kind are also covered between the 
 skin and the muscles with a thick coat of fat 
 or blubber, which, like the bacon-fat of a 
 hog, keeps out the cold, renders their muscles 
 glib and pliant, and probably makes them 
 lighter in swimming. 
 
 As these animals breath the air, it is obvi- 
 ous that they cannot bear to be any long 
 time under water. They are constrained, 
 therefore, every two or three minutes, to 
 come up to the surface to take breath, as 
 well as to spout out through their nostril (for 
 they have but one) that water which they 
 sucked in while gaping for their prey. Thia 
 conduit, by which they breath, and also throw 
 out the water, is placed in the head, a little 
 before the brain. Though externally the 
 hole is but single, it is internally divided by 
 a bony partition, which is closed by a sphinc- 
 ter muscle on the inside, that, like the mouth, 
 of a purse, shuts it up at the pleasure of the 
 animal. There is also another muscle or 
 valve, which prevents the water from going 
 down the gullet. When, therefore, the ani- 
 mal takes in a certain quantity of water, 
 which is necessary to be discharged and 
 
 its component parts of acid and soda. The sailor that 
 feeds for twelve mouths together on salted meats, has not 
 his own flesh made salt ; but a decomposition taking place 
 during the process of digestion, he becomes corrupted and 
 scorbutic by the excess of soda and magnesia. 
 
CETACEOUS FISHES. 
 
 615 
 
 separated from its food, it shuts the mouth, 
 closes the valve of the stomach, opens the 
 sphincter that kept the nostril closed, and then 
 breathing strongly from the lungs, pushes the 
 water out by the effort, as we see it rise by 
 the pressure of air in a fire-engine. 
 
 The senses of these animals seem also su- 
 perior to those of other fishes. The eyes of 
 other fishes, we have observed, are covered 
 only with that transparent skin that covers 
 the rest of the head ; but in all the cetaceous 
 kinds, it is covered by eye-lids, as in man. 
 This, no doubt, keeps that organ in a more 
 perfect state, by giving it intervals of relaxa- 
 tion, in which all vision is suspended. The 
 other fishes, that are for ever staring, must 
 see, if for no other reason, more feebly, as 
 their organs of sight are always exerted. 
 
 As for hearing, these also are furnished 
 with the internal instruments of the ear, al- 
 though the external orifice no where appears. 
 It is most probable that this orifice may open 
 by some canal, resembling the Eustachian 
 tube, into the mouth; but this has not as yet 
 been discovered. 
 
 Yet nature sure has not thus formed a com- 
 plete apparatus for hearing, and denied the 
 animal the use of it when formed. It is most 
 likely that all animals of the cetaceous kind 
 can hear, as they certainly utter sounds, and 
 bellow to each other. This vocal power 
 would be as needless to animals naturally 
 deaf, as glasses to a man that was blind. 
 
 But it is in the circumstances in which they 
 continue their kind, that these animals show 
 an eminent superiority. Other fish deposit 
 their spawn, and leave the success to acci- 
 dent : these never produce above one young, 
 or two at the most ; and this the female 
 suckles entirely in the manner of quadrupeds, 
 her breasts being placed, as in the human 
 kind, above the navel. We have read many 
 fabulous accounts of the nursing of the de- 
 migods of antiquity, of their feeding on the 
 marrow of lions, and their being suckled by 
 wolves : one might imagine a still more he- 
 roic system of nutrition, if we supposed that 
 the young hero was suckled and grew strong 
 upon the breast-milk of a she-whale ! 
 
 The whale or the grampus are terrible at 
 any time; but are fierce and desperate in the 
 defence of their young. In Wallers beauti- 
 ful poem of the Summer Islands, we have 
 
 story, founded upon fact, which shows the 
 maternal tenderness of these animals for their 
 offspring. A whale and her cub had got into 
 an arm of the sea, where, by the desertion of 
 the tide, they were enclosed on every side. 
 The people from shore soon saw their situa- 
 tion, and drove down upon them in boats, 
 with such weapons as the urgent occasion 
 offered. The two animals were soon wound- 
 ed in several places, and the whole sea round 
 was tinctured with their blood. The whales 
 made several attempts to escape ; and at last 
 the old one, by its superior strength, forced 
 over the shallow into the depths of the ocean. 
 But though in safety herself, she could not bear 
 the danger that awaited her young one; she 
 therefore rushed in once more where the small- 
 er animal was imprisoned, and resolved, when 
 she could not protect, at least to share its dan- 
 ger. The story ends with poetical justice; for 
 the tide coming in, brought off both in safety 
 from their enemies, though not without sustain- 
 ing an infinite numberof wounds in every part. 
 
 As to the rest, the distinctive marks of this 
 tribe are, that the number of their fins never 
 exceed three; namely, two pectoral fins, and 
 one back fin ; but in some sorts the last is 
 wanting. These fins differ very much from 
 those of other fishes, which are formed of 
 straight spines : the fins of the cetaceous tribe 
 are made up of bones and muscles ; and the 
 skeleton of one of their fins, very much re- 
 sembles the skeleton of a man's hand. Their 
 tails also are different from those of all other 
 fish : they are placed so as to lie fiat on the 
 surface of the water; while the other kinds 
 have them, as we every day see, upright or 
 edgeways. This flat position of the tail in 
 cetaceous animals, enables them to force 
 themselves suddenly to the surface of the 
 water to breath, which they are continually 
 constrained to do. 
 
 Of these enormous animals, some are with- 
 out teeth, and properly called whales: others 
 have the teeth only in the lower jaw, and are 
 called, by the French, cachalots: the nar- 
 whal has teeth only in the upper JHW : the 
 dolphin's teeth, as well as those of the por- 
 poise and grampus, are both above and below. 
 These are the marks that serve to distinguish 
 the kinds of this enormous tribe from each 
 other; and these shall serve to guide us, in 
 giving their history, 
 
616 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 CHAPTER CXXXVIII. 
 
 OF THE WHALE PROPERLY SO CALLED, AND ITS VARIETIES. 
 
 IF we compare land animals, in respect to 
 magnitude, with those of the deep, they will 
 appear contemptible in the competition. It is 
 probable, indeed, that quadrupeds once exist- 
 ed much larger than we find them at present. 
 From the skeletons of some that have been 
 dug up at different times, it is evident, that 
 there must have been terrestrial animals twice 
 as large as the elephant ; but creatures of such 
 an immense bulk required a proportionable 
 extent of ground for subsistence, and, by being 
 rivals with men for large territory, they must 
 have been destroyed in the contest. 
 
 But it is not only upon land that man has 
 exerted his power of destroying the larger 
 tribes of animated nature, he has extended his 
 efforts even into the midst of the ocean, and 
 has cut off numbers of those enormous ani- 
 mals that had perhaps existed for ages. We 
 now no longer hear of whales f.vo hundred, 
 and two hundred and fifty feet long, which 
 we are certain were often seen about two 
 centuries ago. They have all been destroyed 
 by the skill of mankind, and the species is 
 now dwindled into a race of diminutive ani- 
 mals, from thirty to about eighty feet long. 
 
 The northern seas were once the region to 
 which the greatest of these animals resorted; 
 but so great has been the slaughter of whales 
 for more than two ages, that they begin to 
 grow thinner every day ; and those that are 
 now found there, seem, from their size, not to 
 come to their full dimensions. The greatest 
 whales resort to places where they have the 
 least disturbance ; to those seas that are on 
 the opposite side of the globe, near the south 
 pole. In that part of the world, there are 
 still to be seen whales that are above a hun- 
 dred and sixty feet long ; and perhaps even 
 longer might be found in those latitudes near 
 the south polo, to which we have not as yet 
 ventured. 
 
 Taking the whale, however, at the ordinary 
 size of eighty feet long and twenty feet high, 
 what an enormous animated mass must it ap- 
 
 pear to the spectator ! With what amaze- 
 ment must it strike him, to behold so great a- 
 creature gamboling in the deep, with the ease 
 and agility 01 the smallest animal, and making 
 its way with incredible swiftness ! This is 
 a sight which is very common to those who 
 frequent the northern or southern ocean. Yet 
 though this be wonderful, perhaps still greater 
 wonders are concealed in the deep, which 
 we have not had opportunities of exploring. 
 These large animals are obliged to show them- 
 selves in order to take breath ; but who knows 
 the size of those that are fitted to remain for 
 ever under water, and that have been increas- 
 ing in magnitude for centuries ! To believe 
 all that has been said of the Sea-Serpent, or 
 the Kraken, would be credulity ; to reject 
 the possibility of their existence, would be 
 presumption. 
 
 The Whale is :he largest animal of which 
 we have any certain information ; and the 
 various purposes to which, when taken, its 
 different parts are converted, have brought us 
 tolerably acquainted with its history. Of the 
 whale, properly so called, there are no less 
 than seven different kinds ; all distinguished 
 from each other by their external figure, or 
 internal conformation. The Great Greenland 
 Whale, without a back-fin, and black on the 
 back ; the Iceland Whale, vv ithout a back-fin, 
 and whitish on he back ; the New-England 
 Whale, with a hump on the back ; the Whale, 
 with six humps on the back ; the Fin-fish, 
 with a fin on the back near the tail; the Pike- 
 headed Whale, and the Round-rlipped Whale. 
 All these differ from each other in figure, as 
 their names obviously imply. They differ 
 also somewhat in their manner of living ; the 
 fin-fish having a larger swallow than the rest, 
 being more active, slender, and fierce, and 
 living chiefly upon herrings. However, there 
 are none of them very voracious ; and, if 
 compared to the cachalot, tlmi enormous tyrant 
 of the deep, they appear harmless and gentle. 
 The history of the rest, therefore, may be 
 
CETACEOUS FISHES. 
 
 617 
 
 comprised under that of the Great Common 
 Greenland Whale, with which we are best 
 acquainted. 
 
 The Great Greenland Whale is the fish, 
 for taking which there arc such preparations 
 made in different parts of Europe. It is a 
 large heavy animal, and the head alone makes 
 a third of its bulk. It is usually found from 
 sixty to seventy feet long. The fins on each 
 side are from five to eight feet, composed of 
 bones and muscles, and sufficiently strong to 
 give the great mass of body which they move, 
 speed and activity. The tail, which lies flat 
 on the water, is about twenty-four feet broad ; 
 and, when the fish lies on one side, its blow is 
 tremendous. The skin is smooth and black, 
 and, in some places, marbled with white and 
 yellow; which, running over the surface, has 
 a very beautiful effect. This marbling is par- 
 ticularly observable in the fins and the tail. 
 In the figures which are thus drawn by nature, 
 fancy often forms the pictures of trees, land- 
 scapes, and houses. In the tail of one that 
 was thus marbled, Ray tells us, that the num- 
 ber 122 was figured very evenly and exactly, 
 as if done with a pencil. 
 
 The whale makes use only of the tail to 
 advance itself forward in the water. This 
 serves as a great oar to push its mass along ; 
 and it is surprising to see with what force 
 and celerity its enormous bulk cuts through 
 the ocean. The fins are only made use of for 
 turning in the water, and giving a direction 
 to the velocity impressed by the tail. The 
 female also makes use of them when pursued, 
 to bear off her young, clapping them on her 
 back, and supporting them by the fins on each 
 side from falling. 
 
 The outward or scarf skin of the whale is 
 no thicker than parchment ; but this removed, 
 the real skin appears, of about an inch thick, 
 and covering the fat or blubber that lies be- 
 neath ; this is from eight to twelve inches in 
 thickness ; and is, when the fish is in health, 
 of a beautiful yellow. The muscles lie be- 
 neath ; and these, like the flesh of quadrupeds, 
 are very red and tough. 
 
 The cleft of the mouth is above twenty feet 
 long, which is near one-third of the animal's 
 whole length ; and the upper jaw is furnished 
 with barbs, that lie like the pipes of an organ, 
 the greatest in the middle, and the smallest to 
 the sides. These compose the whalebone ; 
 
 the longest spars of which are found to be not 
 less than eighteen feet ; the shortest, being of 
 no value, are thrown away. The tongue is 
 almost immoveably fixed to the lower jaw, 
 seeming one great lump of fat ; and, in fact, 
 it fills several hogsheads with blubber. The 
 eyes are not larger than those of an ox ; and 
 when the crystalline humour is dried, it does 
 not appear larger than a pea. They are 
 placed towards the back of the head, being 
 the most convenient situation for enabling 
 them to see both before and behind ; as also 
 to see over them, where their food is princi- 
 pally found. They are guarded by eye-lids 
 and eye-lashes, as in quadrupeds; and they 
 seem to be very sharp-sighted. 
 
 Nor is their sense of hearing in less perfec- 
 tion ; for they are warned at great distances, 
 of any danger preparing against them. It 
 would seem as if nature had designedly given 
 them these advantages, as they multiply little, 
 in order to continue their kind. It is true, 
 indeed, that the external organ of hearing is 
 not perceptible, for this might only embarrass 
 them in their natural element : but as soon as 
 the thin scarf-skin above mentioned is remov- 
 ed, a black spot is discovered behind the eye, 
 and under that is the auditory canal, that leads 
 to a regular apparatus for hearing. In short, 
 the animal hears the smallest sounds at very 
 great distances, and at all times, except when 
 it is spouting water ; which is the time that 
 the fishers approach to strike it. 
 
 These spout-holes or nostrils, in all the 
 cetaceous tribe, have been already described : 
 in this whale there are two, one on each side 
 the head before the eyes, and crooked, some- 
 what like the holes on the belly of a violin. 
 From these holes this animal blows the water 
 very fiercely, and with such a noise, that it 
 roars like a hollow wind, and may be heard 
 at three miles distance. When wounded, it 
 then blows more fiercely than ever, so that it 
 sounds like the roaring of the sea in a great 
 storm. 
 
 We have already observed, that the sub- 
 stance called whalebone, is taken from the 
 upper jaw of the animal, and is very different 
 from the real bones of the whale. The real 
 bones are hard, like those of great land ani- 
 mals, are very porous, and filled with marrow. 
 Two great strong bones sustain the under lip, 
 lying against each other in the shape of a 
 
618 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 half-moon : some of these are twenty feet 
 long ; they are seen In several gardens set up 
 against each other, and are usually mistaken 
 for the ribs of this animal. 
 
 Such is the general conformation and figure 
 of this great inhabitant of the deep, the pre- 
 cise anatomy of which has not been yet ascer- 
 tained. In those places where they are caught 
 in greatest abundance, the sailors are not 
 yery curious as to the structure of the viscera ; 
 and few anatomists care to undertake a task, 
 where the operator, instead of separating with 
 a lancet, must cut his way with an axe. It is 
 as yet doubted, therefore, whether the whale, 
 that in most points internally resembles a 
 quadruped, may not have one great bowel 
 fitted entirely for the reception of air, to sup- 
 ply it, when constrained to keep longer than 
 usual at the bottom. The sailors universally 
 affirm that it has ; and philosophers have 
 nothing but the analogy of its parts to oppose 
 to their general assertions. 
 
 As these animals resemble quadrupeds in 
 conformation, so they bear a strong resem- 
 blance in some of their appetite* and manners. 
 The female joins with the male, as is asserted, 
 more humano, and once in two years feels the 
 accesses of desire. 
 
 Their fidelity to each other exceeds what- 
 ever we are told of even the constancy of 
 birds. Some fishers, as Anderson informs us, 
 having struck one of two whales, a male and 
 a female, that were in company together, the 
 wounded fish made a long and a terrible resis- 
 tance : it struck down a boat with three men 
 in it, with a single blow of the tail, by which 
 all went to the bottom. The other still attend- 
 ed its companion, and lent it every assistance; 
 till, at last, the fish that was struck sunk 
 under the number of its wounds ; while its 
 faithful associate, disdaining to survive the 
 loss, with great bellowing, stretched itself upon 
 the dead fish, and shared its fate. 
 
 The whale goes with young nine or ten 
 months, and is then fatter than usual, particu- 
 larly when near the time of bringing forth. 
 It is said that the embryo, when first percep- 
 tible, is about seventeen inches long, and 
 white ; but the cub, when excluded, is black, 
 and about ten feet long. She generally pro- 
 duces one young one, and never above two. 
 When she suckles her yon rig, she throws her- 
 self on one side on the surface of the sea, and 
 
 the young one attaches itself to the teat. The 
 breasts are two, generally hid within the belly; 
 but she can produce them at pleasure, so as 
 to stand forward a foot and a half, or two 
 feet ; and the teats are like those of a cow. 
 In some, the breasts are white; in others, 
 speckled; in all, filled with a large quantity 
 of milk, resembling that of land animals. 
 
 Nothing can exceed the tenderness of the 
 female for her^ offspring ; she carries it with 
 her wherever' she goes, and when hardest 
 pursued, keeps it supported between her fins. 
 Even when wounded, she still clasps her 
 young one ; and when she plunges to avoid 
 danger, takes it to the bottom; but rises sooner 
 than usual, to give it breath again. 
 
 The young ones continue at the breast for 
 a year; during which time they are called by 
 the sailors, short- heads. They are then ex- 
 tremely fat, and yield above fifty barrels of 
 blubber. The mother, at the same time, is 
 equally lean and emaciated. At the age of 
 two years they are called stunts, as they do 
 not thrive much immediately after quitting the 
 breast ; they then scarcely yield above twenty, 
 or twenty-four, barrels of blubber : from that 
 forward, they are called skull-fish, and their 
 age is wholly unknown. 
 
 Every species of whale propagates only 
 with those of its own kind, and does not at 
 all mingle with the rest; however, they are 
 generally seen in shoals, of different kinds 
 together, and make their migrations in large 
 companies, from one ocean to another. They 
 are a gregarious animal, \\hich implies thrir 
 want of mutual defence against the invasions of 
 smaller, but more powerful fishes. It seems 
 astonishing, therefore, how a shoal of these 
 enormous animals find subsistence together, 
 when it would seem that the supplying even 
 one with food would require greater plenty 
 than the ocean could furnish. To increase 
 our wonder, we not only see them hording to- 
 gether, but usually find them fatter than any 
 other animals of whatsoever element. We 
 likewise know that they cannot swallow large 
 fishes, as their throat is so narrow, that an 
 animal larger than a herring could not enter. 
 How then do they subsist and grow so fat ? 
 A small insect, which is seen floating in those 
 seas, and which Linnaeus terms the Medusa, 
 is sufficient for this supply. These insects are 
 black, and of the size of a small bean, and 
 
CETACEOUS FISHES. 
 
 619 
 
 are sometimes seen floating in clusters on the 
 surface of the water. They are of a round 
 form, like snails in a box, but they have wings, 
 which are so tender, that it is scarcely pos- 
 sible to touch them without breaking. These 
 serve rather for swimming than flying; and 
 the little animal is called by the Icelanders, 
 the Walfuchoas, which signifies the whale's 
 provender. Thy have the taste of raw mus- 
 cles, and have the smell of burnt sugar. These 
 are the food of the whale, which it is seen to 
 draw up in great numbers with its huge jaws, 
 and to bruise between its barbs, which are 
 always found with several of these sticking 
 among them. 
 
 This is the simple food of the great Green- 
 land whale; it pursues no other animal, leads 
 an inoffensive life in its element, and is harm- 
 less in proportion to its strength to do mis- 
 chief. There seems to be an analogy between 
 its manners and those of the elephant. They 
 are both the strongest and (he largest ani- 
 mals in their respective elements ; neither 
 offer injury, but are terrible when provoked 
 to resentment. The fin-fish indeed, in some 
 measure, differs from the great whale in this 
 particular, as it subsists chiefly upon herrings, 
 great shoals of which it is often seen driving 
 before it. Yet even the swallow of this fish 
 is not very large, if compared to the cachalot 
 tribe; and its ravages are but sports in com- 
 parison. The stomach and intestines of all 
 these animals, when opened, setdom have any 
 thing in them, except a soft unctuous substance 
 of a brownish colour; and their excrements 
 are of a shining red. 
 
 As the whale is an inoffensive animal, it is 
 not to be wondered that it has many enemies, 
 willing to take advantage of its disposition, 
 and inaptitude for combat. There is a small 
 animal, of the shell-fish kind, called the Whale- 
 louse, that sticks to its body, as we see shells 
 sticking to the foul bottom of a ship. This 
 insinuates itself chiefly under the fins: and 
 whatever efforts the great animal makes, it 
 still keeps its hold, and lives upon the fat, 
 which it is provided with instruments to ar- 
 rive at. 
 
 The sword-fish, however, is the whale's 
 most terrible enemy. " At the sight of this 
 little animal," says Anderson, ' the whale 
 seems agitated in an extraordinary manner; 
 
 MO. S3 & 54. 
 
 leaping from the water as if with affright: 
 wherever it appears, the whale perceives it 
 at a distance, and flies from it in the opposite 
 direction. I have been myself," continues he, 
 " a spectator of their terrible encounter. The 
 whale has no instrument of defence except 
 the tail; with that it endeavours to strike the 
 enemy ; and a single blow taking place, would 
 effectually destroy its adversary: but the 
 sword-fish is as active as the other is strong, 
 and easily avoids the stroke; then bounding 
 into the air, it falls upon its great subjacent 
 enemy, and endeavours not to pierce with its 
 pointed beak, but to cut it with its toothed 
 edges. The sea all about is seen dyed with 
 blood, proceeding from the wounds of the 
 whale ; while the enormous animal vainly en- 
 deavours to reach its invader, and strikes 
 with its tail against the surface of the water, 
 making a report at each blow louder than the 
 noise of a cannon." 
 
 There is still another and more powerful 
 enemy, called by the fishermen of New-Eng- 
 land, the Killer. This is itself a cetaceous 
 animal, armed with strong and powerful teeth. 
 A number of these are said to surround the 
 whale, in the same manner as dogs get round 
 a bull. Some attack it with their teeth be- 
 hind ; others attempt it before, until, at last, 
 the great animal is torn down, and its tongue 
 is said to be the only part they devour when 
 they have made it their prey. They are 
 said to be of such great strength, that one of 
 them alone was known to stop a dead whale 
 that several boats were towing along, and 
 drag it from among them to the bottom. 
 
 But of all the enemies of these enormous 
 fishes, man is the greatest : he alone destroys 
 more in a year than the rest in an age, and 
 actually has thinned their numbers in that 
 part of the world where they are chiefly sought. 
 The great resort of these animals, was found 
 to be on the inhospitable shores of Spitzber- 
 gen; where the distance of the voyage, the 
 coldness of the climate, the terrors of the icy 
 sea, and, still more, their own formidable bulk, 
 might have been expected to protect them 
 from human injury. But all these were but 
 slight barriers against man's arts, his courage, 
 and his necessities. The European ships, 
 soon after the improvement of navigation, 
 found the way iuto those seaa; and as early 
 4T 
 
620 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 as the beginning of the fourteenth century, 
 the Biscayneers were in possession of a very 
 considerable trade to the coast of Greenland. 
 The Dutch and the English followed them 
 thither, and soon took that branch of com- 
 merce out of their hands. The English com- 
 menced the business about the beginning of 
 the seventeenth century; and the town of Hull 
 had the honour of first attempting that pro- 
 fitable branch of trade. But, at present, it 
 seems upon the decline, as the quantity of 
 fish are so greatly reduced, by the constant 
 capture for such a vast length of time. It is 
 now said that the fishers, from a defect of 
 whales, apply themselves to the seal-fishery ; 
 yet, as these animals are extremely timorous, 
 they will soon be induced to quit those shores, 
 where they meet such frequent disturbance 
 and danger. The poor natives of Greenland 
 themselves, who used to feed upon the whale, 
 are diminishing, in proportion as their sus- 
 tenance is removed ; and, it is probable, that 
 the revolution of a few years will see that 
 extensive coast totally deserted by its inha- 
 bitants, as it is already nearly deserted by the 
 whales. 
 
 The art of taking whales, like most others, 
 is much improved by time, and differs in many 
 respects from that practised by the Biscay- 
 neers, when they first frequented the icy sea. 
 But as the description of their method is the 
 least complicated, and consequently the ea- 
 siest understood, it will be best suited to our 
 purpose. 
 
 For this navigation, the Biscayneers, in 
 favourable seasons, fitted out thirty ships, of 
 two hundred and fifty tons each, with fifty 
 choice men apiece, and a few boys. These 
 were stored with six months' provision ; and 
 each ship had its boats, which were to be ser- 
 viceable when come to the place of duty. 
 When arrived at the part where the whales 
 are expected to pass to the southward, they 
 always keep their sails set, and a sailor is pla- 
 ced at the mast head, to give information when 
 he spies a whale. As soon as he discovers 
 one, the whole crew are instantly in employ- 
 ment: they fit out their boats, and row away 
 to where the whale was seen. The harpoon- 
 er, who is to strike the fish, stands at the prow 
 of the boat, with an harpoon or javelin in 
 his hand, five or six feet long, pointed with 
 
 steel like the barb of an arrow, of a triangu- 
 lar shape. As this person's place is that of 
 the greatest dexterity, so also it is of the great- 
 est danger: the whale sometimes overturns 
 the boat with a blow of its tail; or drives 
 against it with fury. In general, however, 
 the animal seems to sleep on the surface of 
 the water : while the boat is approaching, the 
 harpooner stands aloft, and with his harpoon 
 tied to a cord of several hundred fathom 
 length, darts it into the animal, and then rows 
 as fast as possible away. It is some time be- 
 fore the whale seems to feel the blow ; the 
 instrument has usually pierced no deeper 
 than the fat, and that being insensible, the 
 animal continues for a while motionless ; but 
 soon roused from its seeming lethargy, as the 
 shaft continues to pierce deeper and deeper 
 into the muscular flesh, it flies off with ama- 
 zing rapidity. In the mean time, the har- 
 poon sticks in its side, while the rope, which 
 is coiled up in the boat, and runs upon a swi- 
 vel, lengthens as the whale recedes, but still 
 shows the part of the deep to which it has re- 
 treated. The cord is coiled up with great 
 care; for such is the rapidity with which it 
 runs off, that if it was but the least checked, 
 as it yields with the animal's retreat, it would 
 infalliby overset the boat, and the crew would 
 go to the bottom. It sometimes happens also, 
 that the rapidity wilh which it runs over the 
 swivel at the edge of the boat, heats it, and 
 it would infallibly take fire, did not a man 
 stand continually with a wet mop in his hand, 
 to cool the swivel as the cord runs. The 
 whale having dived to a considerable depth, 
 remains at the bottom, sometimes for near 
 half an hour, with the harpoon in its body, 
 and then rises to take breath, expecting the 
 danger over; but the instant it appears, they 
 are all with their boats ready to receive it, 
 and fling the harpoons into its body; the ani- 
 mal again dives and again rises, while they 
 repeat their blows. The ship follows in full 
 sail, like all the rest, never losing sight of the 
 boats, and ready to lend them assistance ; the 
 whole ocean seems dyed in blood. Thus they 
 renew their attacks, till the whale begins to 
 be quite enfeebled and spent, when they 
 plunge their longer spears into various parts 
 of its body, and the enormous animal expires 
 When it is dead, to prevent it from sinking 
 
CETACEOUS FISHES. 
 
 621 
 
 they tie it with a strong iron chain to the side 
 of the boat, and either cut it up in pieces, and 
 carry it home in that manner, or extract the 
 oil from the blubber on ship-board. 
 
 Such is the manner in which these fish were 
 taken in the beginning ; but succeeding arts 
 have improved the method, and the harpoon 
 is now thrown by; a machine being used 
 which inflicts a deeper wound, and strikes the 
 animal with much greater certainty : there are 
 better methods for extracting the oil, and pro- 
 per machines for cutting the animal up, than 
 were used in the early fisheries. But as an 
 account of this belongs to the history of art, 
 and not of nature, we must be contented with 
 observing, that several parts of this animal, 
 and all but the intestines and the bones, are 
 turned to a very good account ; not only the 
 oil, but the greaves from which it is separated. 
 The barbs also were an article of great profit; 
 but have sunk in their price, since women no 
 longer use them to swell out their petticoats 
 with whale-bone. The flesh of this animal 
 is also a dainty to some nations, and even the 
 French seamen are now and then found to 
 
 dress and use it as their ordinary diet at sea. 
 It is said, by the English and Dutch sailors, to 
 be hard and ill-tasted ; but the French assert 
 the contrary ; and the savages of Greenland, 
 as well as those near the south pole, are 
 fond of it to distraction. They eat the 
 flesh, and drink the oil, which is a first-rate 
 delicacy. The finding a dead whale is 
 an adventure considered among the fortunate 
 circumstances of their wretched lives. They 
 make their abode beside it ; and seldom re- 
 move till they have left nothing but the 
 bones. 
 
 Jacobson, whom we quoted before in the 
 History of Birds, where he described his 
 countrymen of the island of Feroe as living a 
 part of the year upon salted gulls, tells us also, 
 that they are very fond of salted whale's 
 flesh. The fat of the head they season with 
 bay salt, and then hang it up to dry in the 
 chimney. He thinks it tastes as well as fat 
 bacon ; and the lean, which they boil, is, in 
 his opinion, not inferior to beef. I fancy poor 
 Jacobson would make but an indifferent taster 
 at one of our city feasts ! 
 
 CHAPTER CXXXIX. 
 
 OF THE NARWHAL. 
 
 FROM whales that entirely want teeth, we 
 come to such as have them in the upper jaw 
 only ; and in this class there is found but one, 
 the Narwhal, or Sea-unicorn. This fish is 
 not so large as the whale, not being above 
 sixty feet long. Its body is slenderer than 
 that of the whale, and its fat not in so great 
 abundance. But this great animal is sufficient- 
 ly distinguished from ijltnhers of the deep by 
 its tooth or teeth, which stand pointing direct- 
 ly forward from the upper jaw, and are from 
 nine to fourteen feet long. In all the variety 
 of weapons with which nature has armed her 
 various tribes, there is not one so large or so 
 formidable as this. This terrible weapon is 
 generally found single, and some are of opin- 
 ion that the animal is furnished but with one 
 by nature ; but there is at present the skull of 
 
 a narwhal at the Stadthouse at Amsterdam, 
 with two teeth ; which plainly proves that in 
 some animals, at least, this instrument is 
 double. It is even a doubt whether it may not 
 be so in all ; and that the narwhal's wanting 
 a tooth is only an accident which it has met 
 with in the encounters it is obliged daily to be 
 engaged in. Yet it must be owned, of those 
 that are taken only with one tooth, there 
 seems no socket, nor no remains of any other 
 upon the opposite side of the jaw, but all is 
 plain and even. However this be, the tooth, 
 or, as some are pleased to call it, the horn of 
 the narwhal, is the most terrible of all natural 
 instruments of destruction. Itis as straight as 
 an arrow, about the thickness of the small of 
 a man's leg, wreathed in the manner we 
 sometimes see twisted bars of iron ; it tapers 
 
 4T* 
 
622 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 to a sharp point ; and is whiter, heavier, and 
 harder, than ivory. It is generally seen to 
 spring from the left side of the head directly 
 forward in a straight line with the body ; and 
 its root enters into the socket above a foot and 
 a half. In a skull to be seen at Hamburgh 
 there are two teeth, which are each above 
 seven feet long, and are eight inches in cir- 
 cumference. When the animal, possessed of 
 these formidable weapons, is urged to employ 
 them, it drives directly forward' against the 
 enemy with its teeth, that, like protended 
 spears, pierce whatever stands before them. 
 
 The extreme length of these instruments 
 have induced some to consider them rather as 
 horns than teeth ; but they in every respect 
 resemblethe tusks of the boar and the elephant. 
 They grow, as in them, from sockets in the 
 upper jaw ; they have the solidity of the 
 hardest bone, and far surpass ivory in all its 
 qualities. The same error has led utuers to 
 suppose, that as among quadrupeds the female 
 was often found without horns, so these instru- 
 ments of defence were only to be found in the 
 male : but this has been more than once re- 
 futed by actual experience; both sexes are 
 found armed in this manner ; the horn is 
 sometimes found wreathed, and sometimes 
 smooth ; sometimes a little bent, and sometimes 
 straight ; but always strong, deeply fixed, and 
 sharply pointed. 
 
 Yet, notwithstanding all those appointments 
 for combat, these long and pointed tusks, 
 amazing strength, and unmatchable celerity, 
 the narwhal is one of the most harmless and 
 peaceful inhabitants of the ocean. It is seen 
 constantly and inoffensively sporting among 
 the other great monsters of the deep, no way 
 attempting to injure them, but pleased in their 
 company. The Greenlanders call the narwhal 
 the forerunner of the whale ; for wherever it 
 is seen, the whale is shortly after sure to fol- 
 low. This may arise as well from the natural 
 passion for society in these animals, as from 
 both living upon the same food, which are 
 the insects described in the preceding chapter. 
 These powerful fishes make war upon no other 
 jiving creature; and though furnishced with 
 instruments to spread general destruction, are 
 as innocent and as peaceful as a drove of oxen. 
 Nay, so regardless are they of their own wea- 
 pons, and so utterly unmindful to keep them 
 
 in repair for engagement, that they are con- 
 stantly seen covered over with wteds, slough, 
 and all tht filth of the sea ; they seem rather 
 considered as an impediment than a de- 
 fence. 
 
 The manners and appetites both of the 
 narwhal and the great whale are entirely 
 similar; they both alike want teeth for chew- 
 ing, arid are obliged to live upon insects; 
 they both are peaceable and harmless, and 
 always rather fly than seek the combat 
 The narwhal, however, has a much narrower 
 gape than the great whale, and, therefore, 
 does not want the use of barbs to keep in its 
 food when once sucked into the mouth. It 
 is also much swifter, and would never be 
 taken by the fishermen but for those very 
 tusks which at first appear to be its principal 
 defence. These animals, as was said, being 
 fonJ of living together, are always seen in 
 herds of several at a time ; and whenever 
 they are attacked they crowd together in 
 such a manner, that they are mutually em- 
 barrassed by their tusks. By these they are 
 often locked together, and are prevented 
 from sinking to the bottom. It seldom hap- 
 pens, therefore, but the fishermen make sure 
 of one or two of the hindmost, which very 
 well reward their trouble. 
 
 It is from the extraordinary circumstance 
 of the teeth, therefore, thai this fish demands 
 a distinct history; and such has been the 
 curiosity of mankind, and their desire to pro- 
 cure them, that a century ago they were con- 
 sidered as the greatest rarity in the world. 
 At that time the art of catching whales was 
 not known ; and mankind saw few, except 
 such as were stranded on the coasts by ac- 
 cident. The tooth of the narwhal, therefore, 
 was ascribed to a very different animal from 
 that which really bore it. Among other fossil 
 substances, they vvere^ some-times dug up; 
 and the narwhal being utterly unknown, na- 
 turalists soon found a terrestrial owner. 
 They were thought to be the horns of uni- 
 corns, an animal described by Pliny as re- 
 sembling a horse, and with one straight horn 
 darting forward from the middle of its fore- 
 head. These teeth were, therefore, consider- 
 ed as a strong testimony in favour of that 
 historian's veracity, and were shown among 
 
CETACEOUS FISHES. 
 
 623 
 
 the most precious remains of antiquity. Even 
 for some time after the narwhal was known, 
 the deceit was continued, as those who were 
 possessed of a tooth sold it to great advantage. 
 
 But at present they are too well known to 
 deceive any, and are only shown for what 
 they really are ; their curiosity increasing in 
 proportion to their weight and their size." 
 
 CHAPTER CXL. 
 
 OF THE CACHALOT, AND ITS VARIETIES. 
 
 THE Cachalot, which has generally gone 
 under the name of the spermaceti-whale, till 
 Mr. Pennant very properly made the distinc- 
 tion, by borrowing its name from the French, 
 has severaljteeth in the under jaw, but none 
 in the upper. As there are no less than seven 
 distinctions among whales, so also there are 
 the same number of distinctions in the tribe 
 we are describing. The cachalot with two 
 fins and a black back ; the cachalot with two 
 fins and a whitish back ; that with a spout in 
 the neck; that with a spout in the snout; 
 that with three fins and sharp-pointed teeth; 
 that with three fins and sharp-edged teeth ; 
 and, lastly, the cachalot, with three fins and 
 flatted teeth. 
 
 This tribe is not of such enormous size as 
 the whale, properly so called, not being above 
 sixty feet long, and sixteen feet high. In 
 consequence of their being more slender, 
 they are much more active than the common 
 Avhale; they remain a longer time at the bot- 
 tom ; and afford a smaller quantity of oil. 
 As in the common whale the head was seen 
 to make a third part of its bulk, so in this 
 species the head is so large as to make one 
 half of the whole. The tongue of this ani- 
 mal is small, but the throat is very formidable; 
 and with very great ease it could swallow an 
 ox. In the stomach of the whale scarcely 
 any thing is to be found; but in that of the 
 cachalot there are loads of fish of different 
 kinds; some whole, some half digested, some 
 small, and others eight or nine feet long. 
 The cachalot is, therefore, as destructive 
 
 a A species is mentioned by Fabricius, as being found 
 on the short's of Greenland, much smaller, of a black 
 colour, with two obtuse teeth from the upper jaw, a little 
 
 among lesser fishes, as the whale is harmless; 
 and can at one gulp swallow a shoal of fishes 
 down its enormous gullet. Linnaeus tells us 
 that this fish pursues and terrifies the dol- 
 phins and porpoises so much, as often to 
 drive them on shore. 
 
 But, how formidable soever this fish may 
 be to its fellows of the deep, it is by far the 
 most valuable, and the most sought after by 
 man, as it contains two very precious drugs, 
 spermaceti and ambergris. The use of these, 
 either for the purposes of luxury or medicine, 
 is so universal, that the capture of this ani- 
 mal, that alone supplies them, turns out to 
 very great advantage, particularly since the 
 art has been found out of converting all the 
 oil of this animal, as well as the brain, into 
 that substance called spermaceti. 
 
 This substance, as it is naturally formed, 
 is found in the head of the animal, and is no 
 other than the brain. The outward skin of 
 the head being taken ofl^ a covering of fat 
 offers about three inches thick ; and under 
 that, instead of a bony skull, the animal has 
 only another thick skin that serves for a 
 covering and defence of the brain. The first 
 cavity or chamber of the brain, is filled with 
 that spermaceti which is supposed of the 
 greatest purity and highest value. From 
 this cavity there is generally drawn about 
 seven barrels of the clearest spermaceti, 
 that thrown upon water coagulates like 
 cheese. Below this there is another cham- 
 ber just over the gullet, which is about seven 
 feet high ; and this also contains the drug, 
 
 curved at the tips, very weak, and measuring not above 
 an incli in length : it has likewise a small fin on the 
 back, which is wanting in the common narwhal. 
 
624 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 but of less value. It is distributed in this ca- 
 vity like honey in a hive, in small cells, se- 
 parated from each other by a membrane like 
 the inner skin of an egg. In proportion as 
 the oily substance is drawn away from this 
 part, it fills anew from every part of the body; 
 and from this is generally obtained about nine 
 barrels of oil. Besides this, the spinal-mar- 
 row, which is as thick as a man's thigh, and 
 reaches all along the back-bone to the tail, 
 where it is not thicker than one's finger, af- 
 fords no inconsiderable quantity." 
 
 This substance, which is used in the com- 
 position of many medicines, rather to give 
 them consistence than efficacy, was at first 
 sold at a very high price, both from the ma- 
 ny virtues ascribed to it, and the small quan- 
 tity that the cachalot was capable of supply- 
 ing: 'at present, the price is greatly fallen ; 
 first, because its efficacy in medicine is found 
 to be very small ; and again, because the 
 whole oil of the fish is easily convertible into 
 Spermaceti. This is performed by boiling it 
 with a ley of pot-ash, and hardening it in the 
 manner of soap. Candles are now made of 
 it, which are substituted for wax, and sold 
 much cheaper; so that we need not fear ha- 
 ving our spermaceti adulterated in the man- 
 
 ner some medical books caution us to beware 
 of; for they carefully guard us against ha- 
 ving our spermaceti adulterated with virgin 
 wax. 
 
 As to the ambergris, which is sometimes 
 found in this whale, it was long considered as 
 a substance found floating on the surface of 
 the sea ; but time, that reveals the secrets of 
 the mercenary, has discovered that it chiefly 
 belongs to this animal. The name, which 
 has been improperly given to the former sub- 
 stance, seems more justly to belong to this; 
 for the ambergris is found in the place where 
 the seminal vessels are usually situated in 
 other animals. It is found in a bag of three 
 or four feet long, in round lumps from one to 
 twenty pounds weight, floating in a fluid ra- 
 ther thinner than oil, and of a yellowish co- 
 lour. There are never seen more than four 
 at a time in one of these bags ; and that 
 which weighed twenty pounds, and which 
 was the largest ever seen, was found single. 
 These balls of ambergris are not found in all 
 fishes of this kind, but chiefly in the oldest 
 and strongest. The uses of this medicine for 
 the purposes of luxury, and as a perfume, are 
 well known ; though upon some subjects ig- 
 norance is preferable to information. 
 
 CHAPTER CLXI. 
 
 OF THE DOLPHIN, THE GRAMPUS, AND THE PORPOISE, WITH THEIR 
 
 VARIETIES. 
 
 ALL these fish have teeth both in the up- 
 per and the lower jaw, and are much less 
 than the whale. The Grampus, which is the 
 largest, never exceeds twenty feet. It may 
 also be distinguished by the flatness of its 
 head, which resembles a boat turned upside 
 down. The Porpoise resembles the gram- 
 pus in most things except the snout, which is 
 not above eight feet long ; its snout also more 
 resembles that of a hog. The Dolphin has 
 
 The perfume called Ambergris, is found in large mas- 
 ses, in the intestines, and is now known to be nothing more 
 .hn the excrements of the animal. Spermaceti is found 
 
 a strong resemblance to the porpoise, except 
 that its snout is longer and more pointed. 
 They have all fins on the back ; they all have 
 heads very large, like the rest of the whale- 
 kind; and resemble each other in their ap- 
 petites, their manners, and conformations; 
 being equally voracious, active, and roving. 
 The great agility of these animals prevents 
 their often being taken. They seldom re- 
 main a moment above water; sometimes, in- 
 
 in a vast cavity in the upper part of the head : while fresh, 
 and in its natural receptacle, it is nearly fluid ; but it con- 
 cretes into opake masses soon after it is exposed to the air. 
 
1.1'lbctni-epliahis.BlimHK-acli-d C. - S.varT.Gfl&osns Streb. Gflflxms C. 3.D.Thocama r O rpoise.-4.1)DelpWsDdymi. 
 
 e 1 
 
CETACEOUS FISHES. 
 
 625 
 
 deed, their too eager pursuits expose them 
 to danger; and a shoal of herrings often al- 
 lures them out of their depth. In such a case, 
 the hungry animal continues to flounder in 
 the shallows till knocked on the head, or till 
 the returning tide seasonably comes to its re- 
 lief. But all this tribe, and the dolphin in 
 particular, are not less swift than destructive. 
 No fish could escape tliem, but from the awk- 
 ward position of the mouth, which is placed 
 in a manner under the head : yet, even with 
 these disadvantages, their depredations are 
 so great, that they have been justly styled the 
 plunderers of the deep. 
 
 What could induce the ancients to a pre- 
 dilection in favour of these animals, particu- 
 larly the dolphin, it is not easy to account for. 
 Historians and philosophers seem to have 
 contended who should invent the greatest 
 number of fables concerning them. The dol- 
 phin was celebrated in the earliest time for 
 its fondness to the human race, and was dis- 
 tinguished by the epithets of the boy-loving 
 and philanthropist. Scarcely an accident 
 could happen at sea, but the dolphin offered 
 himself to convey the unfortunate to shore. 
 The musician flung into the sea by pirates, 
 the boy taking an airing in the midst of the 
 sea, and returning again in safety, were obli- 
 ged to the dolphin for its services. It is not 
 easy, I say, to assign a cause why the anci- 
 ents should thus have invented so many fa- 
 bles in their favour. The figure of these ani- 
 mals is far from prejudicing us in their in- 
 terests ; their extreme rapacity tends still 
 less to endear them ; I know nothing that can 
 reconcile them to man and excite his preju- 
 dices, except that when taken they sometimes 
 have a plaintive moan, with which they con- 
 tinue to express their pain till they expire. 
 This, at first, might have excited human pity; 
 and that might have produced affection. At 
 present, these fishes are regarded even by 
 the vulgar in a very different light; their ap- 
 pearance is far from being esteemed a favour- 
 able omen by the seamen ; and from their 
 boundings, springs, and frolics in the water, 
 experience has taught the mariners to pre- 
 pare for a storm. 
 
 But it is not to one circumstance only that 
 the ancients have confined their fabulous re- 
 ports concerning these animals ; as from their 
 
 leaps out of their element, they assume a tem- 
 porary curvature, which is by no means their 
 natural figure in the water, the old painters 
 and sculptors have universally drawn them 
 wrong. A dolphin is scarcely ever exhibited 
 by the ancients in a straight shape, but curv- 
 ed, in the position which they sometimes ap- 
 pear when exerting their force; and the 
 poets too have adopted the general error. 
 Even Pliny, the best naturalist, has asserted, 
 that they instantly die when taken out of the 
 water ; but Rondelet, on the contrary, assures 
 us that he has seen a dolphin carried alive 
 from Montpelier to Lyons. 
 
 The moderns have more just notions of 
 these animals ; and have got over the many 
 fables, which every day's experience contra- 
 dicts. Indeed their numbers are so great, 
 and, though shy, they are so often taken, that 
 such peculiarities, if they were possessed of 
 any, would have been long since ascertained. 
 They are found, the porpoise especially, in 
 such vast numbers, in all parts of the sea that 
 surrounds this kingdom, that they are some- 
 times noxious to seamen, when they sail in 
 small vessels. In some places they almost 
 darken the water as they rise to take breath, 
 and particularly before bad weather are much 
 agitated, swimming against the wind, and tum- 
 bling about with unusual violence. 
 
 Whether these motions be the gambols of 
 pleasure or the agitations of terror, is not well 
 known. It is most probable that they dread 
 those seasons of turbulence, when the lesser 
 fishes shrink to the bottom, and their prey 
 no longer offers in such abundance. In times 
 of fairer weather they are seen herding toge- 
 ther, and pursuing shoals of various fish with 
 great impetuosity. Their method of hunting 
 their game, if it may be so called, is to follow 
 in a pack, and thus give each other mutual 
 assistance. At that season, when the macka- 
 rel, the herring, the salmon, and other fish of 
 passage, begin to make their appearance, the 
 cetaceous tribes are seen fierce in the pursuit; 
 urging their prey from one creek or bay to 
 another, deterring them from* the shallows, 
 driving them towards each other's ambush, 
 and using a greater variety of arts than hounds 
 are seen to exert in pursuing the hare. How- 
 ever, the porpoise not only seeks for prey 
 near the surface, but often descends to the 
 
626 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 bottom in search ot sand-eels, and sea-worms, 
 which it roots out of the sand with its nose, 
 in the manner hogs harrow up the fields for 
 food. For this purpose, the nose projects a 
 little, is shorter and stronger than that of the 
 dolphin ; and the neck is furnished with very 
 strong muscles, which enable it the readier 
 to turn up the sand. 
 
 But it sometimes happens, that the im- 
 petuosity, or the hunger, of these animals, in 
 their usual pursuits, urges them beyond the 
 limits of safety. The fishermen, who extend 
 their long nets for pilchards, on the coasts of 
 Cornwall, have sometimes an unwelcome cap- 
 ture in one of these. Their feeble nets, which 
 are calculated only for taking smaller prey, 
 suffer an universal laceration from the efforts 
 of this strong animal to escape; and if it be 
 not knocked on the head, before it has had 
 time to flounder, the nets are destroyed, and 
 the fishery interrupted. There is nothing, 
 therefore, they so much dread, as the en- 
 tangling a porpoise; and they do every thing 
 to intimidate the animal from approach- 
 ing. 
 
 Indeed, these creatures are so violent in the 
 pursuit of their prey, that they sometimes fol- 
 low a shoal of small fishes up a fresh-water 
 river, from whence they find no small difficul- 
 ty to return. We have often seen them ta- 
 ken in the Thames at London, both above 
 the bridges and below them. It is curious 
 enough to observe with what activity they 
 avoid their pursuers, and what little time they 
 
 require to fetch breath above the water. The 
 manner of killing them is for four or five boats 
 to spread over the part of the river in which 
 they are seen, and with fire-arms to shoot at 
 them the instant they rise above the water. 
 The fish being thus for some time kept in agi- 
 tation, requires to come to the surface at 
 quicker intervals, and thus affords the marks- 
 men more frequent opportunities. 
 
 When the porpoise is taken, it becomes no 
 inconsiderable capture, as it yields a very 
 large quantity of oil ; and the lean of some, 
 particularly if the animal be young, is said to 
 be as well tasted as veal. The inhabitants 
 of Norway prepare, from the eggs found in the 
 body of this fish, a kind of cavier, which is 
 said to be a very delicate sauce, or good when 
 even eaten with bread. There is a fishery 
 for porpoise along the western isles of Scot- 
 land during the summer season, when they 
 abound on that shore; and this branch of 
 industry turns to good advantage. 
 
 As for the rest, we are told, that these ani- 
 mals go with young ten months; that, like 
 the whale, they seldom bring forth above one 
 at a time, and that in the midst of summer: 
 that they live to a considerable age ; though 
 some say not above twenty-five or thirty years ; 
 and they sleep with the snout above water. 
 They seem to possess, in a degree propor- 
 tioned to their bulk, the manners of whales; 
 and the history of one species of cetaceous 
 animals, will, in a great measure, serve for 
 all the rest. 
 
CARTILAGINOUS FISHES. 
 
 627 
 
 OF CARTILAGINOUS FISHES. 
 
 CHAPTER CXLH. 
 
 OF CARTILAGINOUS FISHES IN GENERAL. 
 
 WE have seen that fishes of the cetaceous 
 kind bear a strong resemblance to quadru- 
 peds in their conformation ; those of the car- 
 tilaginous kinds are one remove separated 
 from them ; they form the shade that com- 
 pletes the imperceptible gradations of na- 
 ture. 
 
 The first great distinction they exhibit is, 
 in having cartilages or gristles instead of 
 bones. The cetaceous tribes have their 
 bones entirely resembling those of quadru- 
 peds, thick, white, and filled with marrow ; 
 those of the spinous kind, on the contrary, 
 have small slender bones, with points re- 
 sembling thorns, and generally solid through- 
 out. Fishes of the cartilaginous kinds have 
 their bones always soft and yielding; and 
 age, that hardens the bones of other animals, 
 rather contributes still more to soften theirs. 
 The size of all fishes increases with age ; 
 but from the pliancy of the bones in this 
 tribe, they seem to have no bounds placed to 
 their dimensions; and it is supposed that they 
 grow larger every day till they die. 
 
 They have other differences, more obvi- 
 ously discernible. We have observed, that 
 the cetaceous tribes had lungs like quadru- 
 peds, a heart with its partition in the same 
 manner, and an apparatus for hearing; on 
 the other hand, we mentioned that the spin- 
 ous kinds had no organs of hearing, no lungs 
 to breath through, and no partition in the 
 heart ; but that their cold red blood was 
 circulated by the means of the impulse made 
 upon their gills by the water. Cartilaginous 
 fishes unite both these systems in their con- 
 formation : like the cetaceous tribes, they 
 
 MO. 53 Se 54. 
 
 have organs of hearing, and lungs ; like the 
 spinous kinds, they have gills, and a heart 
 without a partition. Thus possessed of a 
 twofold power of breathing, sometimes by 
 means of their lungs, sometimes by that of 
 their gills, they seem to unite all the advan- 
 tages of which their situation is capable, and 
 drawing from both elements every aid to their 
 necessities or their enjoyments. 
 
 This double capacity of breathing in these 
 animals, is one of the most remarkable fea- 
 tures in the history of nature. The apertures 
 by which they breath, are some where placed 
 about the head ; either beneath, as in flat 
 fish; on the sides, as in sharks; or on the 
 top of the head, as in pipe-fish. To these 
 apertures are the gills affixed, but without 
 any bone to open and shut them, as in spin- 
 ous fishes ; from which, by this mark, they 
 may be easily distinguished, though other- 
 wise very much alike in appearance. From 
 these are bending cylindrical ducts, that run 
 to the lungs, and are supposed to convey the 
 air, that gives the organs their proper play. 
 The heart, however, has but one valve; so 
 that their blood wants that double circula- 
 tion which obtains in the cetaceous kinds ; 
 and the lungs seem to be rather as an inter- 
 nal assistant to the gills, than fitted for sup- 
 plying the same offices as in quadrupeds, 
 for they want the pulmonary vein and artery. 
 
 From this structure, however, the animal 
 is enabled to live a longer time out of water 
 than those whose gills are more simple. 
 The cartilaginous shark, or ray. live some 
 hQurs after they are taken ; while the spinous 
 herring or mackarel expire a few minutes 
 4U 
 
628 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 after they are brought on shore. From hence 
 this tribe seems possessed of powers that other 
 fishes are wholly deprived of; they can re- 
 main continually under water, without ever 
 taking breath ; while they can venture their 
 heads above the deep, and continue for hours 
 out of their native element. 
 
 We observed, in a former chapter, that 
 spin ous fishes have not, or at least appear not 
 to have, externally any instruments of genera- 
 tion. It is very different with those of the 
 cartilaginous kind, for the male always has 
 these instruments double. The fish of this 
 tribe are not unfrequently seen to copulate ; 
 and their manner is belly to belly, such as may 
 naturally be expected from animals whose 
 parts of generation are placed forward. They 
 in general choose colder seasons and situations 
 than other fish for propagating their kind ; 
 and many of them bring forth in the midst of 
 winter. 
 
 The same duplicity of character which 
 marks their general conformation, obtains 
 also with regard to their manner of bringi-;g 
 forth. Some bring forth their young alive ; 
 and some bring forth eggs, which are after- 
 wards brought to maturity. In all, however, 
 the manner of gestation is nearly the same ; 
 for upon dissection, it is ever found, that the 
 young, while in the body, continue in the egg 
 till a very little time before they are excluded : 
 these eggs they may properly be said to hatch 
 within their body ; and as soon as their young 
 quit the shell, they begin to quit the womb 
 also. Unlike to quadrupeds, or the cetaceous 
 tribes, that quit the egg state in a few days 
 after their first conception, and continue in the 
 womb several months after, these continue in 
 the body of the female, in their egg state, for 
 weeks together ; and the eggs are found linked 
 together by a membrane, from which, when 
 the foetus gets fir e, it continues but a very short 
 time till it delivers itself from its confinement 
 in the womb. The eggs themselves consist 
 of a white and a yolk, and have a substance, 
 instead of shell, that apt ly may be compared 
 to softened horn. These, as I observed, are 
 sometimes hatched in the womb, as in the 
 shark and ray kinds; and they are sometimes 
 excluded, as in the sturgeon, before the ani- 
 mal comes to its time of disengaging. Thus 
 we see that there seems very little difference 
 between the viviparous and the oviparous 
 .kinds, in this class of fishes : the one hatch 
 
 their eggs in the womb, and the young con- 
 tinue no long time there ; the others exclude 
 their eggs before hatching, and leave it to 
 time and accident to bring their young to 
 maturity. 
 
 Such are the peculiar marks of the carti- 
 laginous class of fishes, of which there are 
 many kinds. To give a distinct description 
 of every fish is as little my intention, as per- 
 haps it is the wish of the reader ; but the pecu- 
 liarities of each kind deserve notice, and the 
 most striking of these it would be unpardon- 
 able to omit. 
 
 Cartilaginous fish may be divided first into 
 those of the shark kind, w ith a body growing 
 less towards the tail, H rough skin, with the 
 mouth placed far beneath the end of the nose, 
 five apertures on the sides of the neck for 
 breathing, and the upper part of the tail longer 
 than (he lower. This class chiefly compre- 
 hends the Great White Shark, ti>e Balance 
 Fish, the Hound Fish, the Monk Fish, the 
 Dog Fish, the Basking Shark, the Zygaena, 
 the Tope, the Cat Fish, the Blue Shark, the 
 Sea Fox, the Smooth Hound Fish, and the 
 Porbeagle. These are all of the same nature, 
 and differ more in size, than in figure or con- 
 formation. 
 
 The next division is that of flat fish ; and 
 these their broad, flat, thin shape, is sufficient- 
 ly capable of distinguishing from all others of 
 this kind. They may be easily distinguished 
 also from spinous flat fish, by the holes through 
 which they breath, which are uncovered by a 
 bone; and which, in this kind, are five on 
 each side. In this tribe we may place the Tor- 
 pedo, the Skate, the Sharp-nosed Ray, the 
 Rough Ray, the Thornback, and the Fire 
 Flare. 
 
 The third division is that of the slender 
 snake-shaped kind ; such as the Lamprey, the 
 Pride, and the Pipe fish. 
 
 The fourth division is of the Sturgeon and 
 its variety, the Ising-glass Fish. 
 
 The last division may comprise fish of dif- 
 ferent figures and natures, that do not rank 
 under the former divisions. These are the 
 Sun Fish, the Tetrodon, the Lump Fish, the 
 Sea Snail, the Chiinaera, and the Fishing 
 Frog. Each of these has somewhat peculiar 
 in its powers or its forms, that deserves to be 
 remarked. The description of the figures 
 of these at least may compensate for our 
 general ignorance of the rest of their history. 
 
CARTILAGINOUS FISHES. 
 
 629 
 
 CHAPTER CXLIII. 
 
 OF CARTILAGINOUS FISHES OF THE SHARK KIND. 
 
 strength 
 arrangement 
 
 OF all the inhabitants of the deep, those of 
 the shark kind are the fiercest and the most 
 voracious. The smallest of this tribe is not 
 less dreaded by greater fish, than many that 
 to appearance seem more powerful ; nor do 
 any of them seem fearful of attacking animals 
 far above their size : but the Great White 
 Shark, which is the largest of the kind, joins 
 to the most amazing rapidity, the strongest 
 appetites for mischief: as he approaches nearly 
 in size to the whale, he far surpasses him in 
 and celerity, in the formidable 
 of his teeth, and his insatiable 
 desire of plunder. 
 
 The White Shurk is sometimes seen to rank 
 evon among whales for magnitude ; and is 
 found from twenty to thirty feet long. Some 
 assert that they have seen them of four thou- 
 sand pound weight ; and we are told particu- 
 larly of one, that had a human corpse in his 
 belly. The head is large, and somewhat flat- 
 ted ; the snout long, and the eyes large. The 
 mouth is enormously wide, as is the throat, 
 and capable of swallowing a man with great 
 ease. But its furniture of teeth is still more 
 terrible ; of these there are six rows, extremely 
 hard, sharp-pointed, and of a wedge-like 
 figure. It is asserted that there are seventy- 
 two in each jaw, which make an hundred and 
 forty-four in the whole ; yet others think that 
 their number is uncertain ; and that in propor- 
 tion as the animal grows older, these terrible 
 instruments of destruction are found to increase. 
 With these the jaws, both above and below, 
 appear planted all over ; but the animal has a 
 power of erecting or depressing them at plea- 
 sure. When the shark is at rest, they lie quite 
 flat in his mouth ; but when he prepares to 
 seize his prey, he i rects all this dreadful ap- 
 paratus, by the h -Ip of a set of muscles that 
 join them to the jaw ; and the animal he seizes, 
 dies, pierced with a hundred wounds, in a 
 moment. 
 
 Nor is this fish less terrible to behold as to 
 the rest of his form : his fins are larger in pro- 
 
 portion ; he is furnished with great goggle 
 eyes, that he turns with ease on every side, so 
 as to see his prey behind him as well as before ; 
 and his whole aspect is marked with a charac- 
 ter of malignity : his skin also is rough, hard, 
 and prickly ; being that substance which 
 covers instrument cases, called shagreen. 
 
 As the shark is thus formidable in his ap- 
 pearance, so is he also dreadful from his cou- 
 rage and activity. No fish can swim so fast 
 as he; none so constantly employed in swim- 
 ming: he outstrips the swiftest ships, plays 
 round them, darts out before them, returns, 
 seems to gaze at the passengers, and all the 
 while does not seem to exhibit the smallest 
 symptom of an effort to proceed. Such ama- 
 zing powers, with such great appetites for de- 
 struction, would quickly unpeople even the 
 ocean, but providentially, the shark's upper 
 jaw projects so far above the lower, that he is 
 obliged to turn on one side, (not on his back, 
 as is generally supposed,) to seize his prey. 
 As this takes some small time lo perform, the 
 animal pursued seizes that opportunity to 
 make its escape. 
 
 Still, however, the depredations he commits 
 are frequent and formidable. The shark is 
 the dread of sailors in all hot climates ; w here, 
 like a greedy robber, he attends the ships, in 
 expectation of what may drop over board. 
 A man who unfortunately falls into the sea at 
 such a time, is sure to perish, without mercy. 
 A sailor that was bathing in the Mediterra- 
 nean, near Antibes, in the year 1744, while he 
 was swimming about fifty yards from the ship, 
 perceived a monstrous fish making towards 
 him, and surveying him on every side, as fish 
 are often seen to look round a bait. The 
 poor man, struck with terror at its approach, 
 cried out to his companions in the vessel to 
 take him on board. They accordingly threw 
 him a rope with the utmost expedition, and 
 were drawing him up by the ship's side, when 
 the shark darted after him fronj the deep, and 
 snapped off his leg. 
 
 4U 
 
630 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 Mr. Pennant tells as, that the master of a 
 Guinea-ship, finding a rage for suicide pre- 
 vail among his slaves, from a notion the un- 
 happy creatures had, that after death they 
 should be restored again to their families, 
 friends, and country ; to convince them at 
 least that some disgrace should attend them 
 here, he ordered one of their dead bodies to 
 be tied by the heels to a rope, and so let 
 down into the sea ; and, though it was drawn 
 up again with great swiftness, yet, in that 
 short space, the sharks had bit off all but the 
 feet. Whether this story iS prior to an acci- 
 dent of the same kind, which happened at 
 Belfast in Ireland, about twenty years ago, I 
 will not take upon me to determine ; but cer- 
 tain it is, there are some circumstances alike 
 in both, though more terrible in that I am go- 
 ing to relate. A Guinea captain was, by 
 stress of weather, driven into the harbour of 
 Belfast, with a lading of very sickly slaves, 
 who, in the manner above mentioned, took 
 every opportunity to throw themselves over- 
 board when brought up upon the deck, as usual, 
 for the benefit of the fresh air. The captain 
 perceiving, among others, a woman slave 
 attempting to drown herself, pitched upon 
 her as a proper example to the rest. As he 
 supposed that they did not know the terrors 
 attending death, he ordered the woman to be 
 tied with a rope under the arm-pits, and so 
 let her down into the water. When the poor 
 creature was thus plunged in, and about half 
 way down, she was heard to give a terrible 
 shriek, which at first was ascribed to her 
 fears of drowning ; but soon after the water 
 appearing red all round her, she was drawn 
 up, and it was found that a shark, which had 
 followed the ship, had bit her off from the 
 middle. 
 
 Such is the frightful rapacity of this ani- 
 mal; nothing that has life is rejected. But 
 it seems to have a peculiar enmity to man : 
 when once it has tasted human flesh, it never 
 desists from haunting those places where it 
 expects the return of ite prey. It is even 
 asserted, that along the coasts of Africa, 
 where these animals are found in great abun- 
 dance, numbers of the negroes, who are 
 obliged to frequent the waters, are seized 
 and devoured by them every year. The 
 people of these coasts are firmly of opinion, 
 
 that the shark loves the black man's flesh in 
 preference to the white, and that when men 
 of different colours are in the water together, 
 it always makes choice of the former. 
 
 However this be, men of all colours are 
 j equally afraid of this animal, and have con- 
 trived different methods to destroy him. In 
 general, they derive their success from the 
 shark's own rapacity. The usual method of 
 our sailors to take him, is by baiting a great 
 hook with a piece of beef or pork, which is 
 thrown out into the sea by a strong cord, 
 strengthened near the hook with an iron 
 chain. Without this precaution, the shark 
 would quickly bite the cord in two, and thus 
 set himself free. It is no unpleasant amuse- 
 ment to observe this voracious animal com- 
 ing up to survey the bait, particularly when 
 not pressed by hunger. He approaches it, 
 examines it, swims round it, seems for a while 
 to neglect it, perhaps apprehensive of the 
 cord and chain: he quits it for a little; but 
 his appetite pressing, he returns again ; ap- 
 pears preparing to devour it, but quits it once 
 more. When the sailors have sufficiently 
 diverted themselves with his different evolu- 
 tions, they then make a pretence, by draw- 
 ing the rope, as if intending to take the bait 
 away : it is then that the glutton's hunger 
 excites him ; he darts at the bait, and swal- 
 lows it, hook and all. Sometimes, however, 
 he does not so entirely gorge the whole, but 
 that he once more gets free ; yet even then, 
 though wounded and bleeding with the hook, 
 he will again pursue the bait until he is taken. 
 When he finds the hook lodged in his maw, 
 his utmost efforts are then excited, but in 
 vain, to get free; he tries with his teeth to 
 cut the chain ; he pulls with all his force to 
 break the line ; he almost seems to turn his 
 stomach inside out, to disgorge the hook : in 
 this manner he continues his formidable though 
 fruitless efforts; till, quite spent, he suffers 
 his head to be drawn above water, and the 
 sailors, confining his tail by a noose, in this 
 manner draw him on ship-board, arid despatch 
 him. This is done by beating him on the 
 head till he dies; yet even that is not effect- 
 ed without difficulty and danger; the enor- 
 mous creature, terrible even in the agonies 
 of death, still struggles witli his destroyers; 
 nor is there an animal in the world that is 
 
CARTILAGINOUS FISHES. 
 
 631 
 
 harder to be killed. Even when cut in pie- 
 ces, the muscles still preserve their motion, 
 and vibrate for some minutes after being se- 
 parated from the body. Another method of 
 taking them, is by striking a barbed instru- 
 ment, called a fizgig, into his body, as he 
 brushes along by the side of the ship. As 
 soon as he is taken up, to prevent his flounc- 
 ing, they cut off the tail with an axe, with 
 the utmost expedition. 
 
 This is the manner in which Europeans de- 
 stroy the shark; but some of the Negroes 
 along the African coast, take a bolder and 
 more dangerous method to combat their ter- 
 rible enemy. Armed with nothing more than 
 a knife, the Negro plunges into the water, 
 where he sees the shark watching for his prey, 
 and boldly swims forward to meet him: though 
 the great animal does not come to provoke 
 the combat, he does not avoid it, and suffers 
 the man to approach him; but just as he 
 turns upon his side to seize the aggressor, the 
 Negro watches ihe opportunity, plunges his 
 knife into the fish's belly, and pursues his 
 blows with such success, that he lays the ra- 
 venous tyrant dead at the bottom : he soon 
 however returns, fixes the fish's head in a 
 noose, and drags him to shore, where he makes 
 a noble feast for the adjacent villages. 
 
 Nor is man alone the only enemy this fish 
 has to fear: the Remora, or Sucking-fish, is 
 probably a still greater, and follows the shark 
 every where. This fish has got a power of 
 adhering to whatever it sticks against, in the 
 same manner as a cupping-glass sticks to the 
 human body. It is by such an apparatus that 
 this animal sticks to the shark, and drains 
 away its moisture. The seamen, however, 
 are of opinion, that it is seen to attend on the 
 shark for more friendly purposes, to point him 
 to his prey, and to apprise him of his danger. 
 
 Sharks, as well as the Ray tribe, bring forth their 
 young alive, more than one at a time, and each enclosed 
 in a square horny case, terminated at the four corners by 
 slender filaments. After being in the water some time, 
 these natural pouches open at one end, and the young fish 
 escapes from his confinement. These receptacles are, 
 in the shark, of a pellucid horn-colour, terminated at the 
 
 For this reason it has been called the Shark's 
 Pilot. 
 
 The shark so much resembles the whale 
 in size, that some have injudiciously ranked 
 it in the class of cetaceous fishes; but its real 
 rank is in the place here assigned it, among 
 those of the cartilaginous kind. It breaths 
 with gills and lungs, its bones are gristly, and 
 it brings forth several living young : Bellonius 
 assures us, that he saw a female shark pro- 
 duce eleven live young ones at a time. But 
 I will not take upon me to vouch for the ve- 
 racity of Rondeletius, who, when talking of 
 the blue shark, says, that the female will per- 
 mit her small brood, when in danger, to swim 
 down her mouth, and take shelter in her bel- 
 ly. Mr. Pennant, indeed, seems to give cre- 
 dit to the story, and thinks that this fish, like 
 the oppossum, may have a place fitted by na- 
 ture for the reception of her young. To his 
 opinion much deference is due, and is suffi- 
 cient, at least, to make us suspend our dis- 
 sent; for nothing is so contemptible as that 
 affectation of wisdom which some display, by 
 universal incredulity.* 
 
 Upon the whole, a shark, when living, is a 
 very formidable animal ; and, when dead, is 
 of very little value. The flesh is hardly di- 
 gestible by any but the Negroes, who are 
 fond of it to distraction : the liver affords three 
 or four quarts of oil; some imaginary virtues 
 have been ascribed to the brain; and its skin 
 is, by great labour, polished into that sub- 
 stance called shagreen. Mr. Pennant is of 
 opinion, that the female is larger than the 
 male in all this tribe; which would, if con- 
 firmed by experience, make a striking agree- 
 ment between them and birds of prey. It 
 were to be wished that succeeding historians 
 would examine into this observation, which 
 is offered only as a conjecture ! 
 
 corners by very long slender filaments, which are gene- 
 rally found twisted round coral, sea-weeds, and other sub- 
 stances, to prevent their being driven on shore before the 
 young is excluded : those of the Ray tribe are black, with 
 the filaments hardly longer than the case, and are fre- 
 quently cast on our shores in great abundance. 
 
632 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 CHAPTER CXLIV. 
 
 OF CARTILAGINOUS FLAT-FISH, OR THE RAY KIND. 
 
 THE same rapacity which impels the shark 
 along the surface of the water, actuates the 
 flat fish at the bottom. Less active, and less 
 formidable, they creep in security along the 
 bottom, seize every thing that comes in their 
 way ; neither the hardest shells nor the sharp- 
 est spines give protection to the animals that 
 bear them; their insatiable hunger is such 
 that they devour all; and the force of their 
 stomach is so great, that it easily digests them. 
 
 The whole of this kind resemble each other 
 very strongly in their figure; nor is it easy, 
 without experience, to distinguish one from 
 another. The stranger to this dangerous tribe 
 may imagine he is only handling a skate, when 
 he is instantly struck numb by the torpedo; 
 he may suppose he has caught a thorn-back, 
 till he is stung by the fire-flare. It will be 
 proper, therefore, after describing the gene- 
 ral figure of these animals, to mark their dif- 
 ferences. 
 
 All fish of the ray kind are broad, cartila- 
 ginous, swimming flat on the water, and ha- 
 ving spines on different parts of their body, 
 or at the tail. They all have their eyes and 
 mouth placed quite under the body, with aper- 
 tures for breathing either about or near them. 
 They all have teeth, or a rough bone, which 
 answers the same purpose. Their bowels 
 are very wide towards the mouth, and go on 
 diminishing to the tail. The tail is very dif- 
 ferently shaped from that of other fishes ; and 
 at first sight more resembling that of a quad- 
 ruped, being narrow, and ending either in a 
 bunch or a point. But what they are chief- 
 ly distinguished by, is, their spines or prickles, 
 which the different species have on different 
 parts of their body. Some are armed with 
 spines both above and below ; others have 
 them on the upper part only ; some have their 
 spines at the tail ; some have three rows of 
 them, and others but one. These prickles in 
 some are comparatively soft and feeble; those 
 of others, strong and piercing. The smallest 
 
 of these spines are usually inclining towards 
 the tail ; the larger towards the head. 
 
 It is by the spines that these animals are 
 distinguished from each other. The skate 
 has the middle of the back rough, and a sin- 
 gle row of spines on the tail. The sharp- 
 nosed ray has ten spines that are situated to- 
 wards the middle of the back. The rough 
 ray has its spines spread indiscriminately over 
 the whole back. The thorn-back has its 
 spines disposed in three rows upon the back 
 The fire-flare has but one spine, but that in- 
 deed a terrible one. This dangerous wea- 
 pon is placed on the tail, about four inches 
 from the body, and is not less than five inches 
 long. It is of a flinty hardness, the sides thin, 
 sharp-pointed, and closely and sharply beard- 
 ed the whole way. The last of this tribe that 
 I shall mention is the torpedo; and this ani- 
 mal has no spines that can wound ; but in the 
 place of them it is possessed of one of the most 
 potent and extraordinary faculties in nature. 
 
 Such are the principal differences that may 
 enable us to distinguish animals, some of 
 which are of very great use to mankind, from 
 others that are terrible and noxious. With 
 respect to their uses, indeed, as we shall soon 
 see, they differ much; but the similitude 
 among them, as to their nature, appetites, and 
 conformation, is perfect and entire. They 
 are all as voracious as they are plenty ; and 
 as dangerous to a stranger as is useful to him 
 who can distinguish their differences. 
 
 Of all the larger fish of the sea, these are the 
 most numerous; and they owe their numbers 
 to their size. Except the while shark and 
 cachalot alone, there is no other fish that has 
 a swallow large enough to take them in; and 
 their spines make them a still more danger- 
 ous morsel. Yet the size of soinr is such, 
 that even the shark himself is unable to de- 
 vour them : we have seen some of them in 
 England weigh above two hundred pounds; 
 but that is nothing to their enormous bulk in. 
 
CARTILAGINOUS FISHES. 
 
 633 
 
 other parts of the world. Labat tells us of a 
 prodigious ray that was speared by the 
 negroes at Guadaloupe, which was thirteen 
 feet eight inches broad, and above ten feet 
 from the snout to the insertion of the tail. 
 The tail itself was in proportion, for it was 
 no less than fifteen feet long, twenty inches 
 broad at its insertion, and tapering to a point. 
 The body was two feet in depth ; the skin as 
 thick as leather, and marked with spots; 
 which spots, in all of this kind, are only 
 glands, that supply a mucus to lubricate and 
 soften the skin. This enormous fish was 
 utterly unfit to be eaten by Europeans ; but 
 the negroes chose out some of the nicest bits, 
 and carefully salted them up as a most favou- 
 rite provision. 
 
 Yet, large as this may seem, it is very pro- 
 bable that we have seen only the smallest of 
 the kind ; as they generally keep at the bot- 
 tom, the largest of the kind are seldom seen; 
 and, as they may probably have been grow- 
 ing for ages, the extent of their magnitude is 
 unknown. It is generally supposed, however, 
 that they are the largest inhabitants of the 
 doep ; and, were we to credit the Norway 
 Bishop, there are some above a mile over. 
 But to suppose an animal of such a magni- 
 tude is absurd ; yet the over-stretching the 
 supposition does not destroy the probability 
 that animals of this tribe grow to an enor- 
 mous size. 
 
 The ray generally chooses for its retreat 
 such parts of the sea as have a black muddy 
 bottom; the large ones keep at greater 
 depths ; but the smaller approach ihe shores, 
 and feed upon whatever living animals they 
 can surprise, or whatever putrid substances 
 they meet with. As they are ravenous, they 
 easily take the bait, yet will not touch it if it 
 be taken up and kept a day or two out of 
 water. Almost all fish appear much more 
 delicate with regard to a baited hook than 
 their ordinary food. They appear by their 
 m inner to perceive the line, and to dread it; 
 but the impulse of their hunger is too great 
 for their caution ; and, even though they per- 
 ceive (he danger, if thoroughly hungry they 
 devour the destruction. 
 
 These fish genernt" in March and April ; 
 at which time only they are seen swimming 
 near the surface of the water, several of the 
 
 males pursuing one female. They adhere so 
 fast together in coition, that the fishermen 
 frequently draw up both together, though 
 only one has been hooked. The females are 
 prolific to an extreme degree; there having 
 been no less than three hundred eggs taken 
 out of the body of a single ray. These eggs 
 are covered with a tough horny substance, 
 which they acquire in the womb ; for before 
 they descend into that, they are attached to 
 the ovary pretty much in the same manner 
 as in the body of a pullet. From this ovary, 
 or egg-bag, as it is vulgarly called, the fish's 
 eggs drop one by one into the womb, and 
 there receive a shell by th concretion of the 
 fluids of that organ. When come to the pro- 
 per maturity, they are excluded, but never 
 above one or two at a time, and often at in- 
 tervals of three or four hours. These eggs, 
 or purses, as the fishermen call them, are usu- 
 ally cast about the beginning of May, and they 
 continue casting during the whole summer. 
 In October, when their breeding ceases, th'y 
 are exceedingly poor and thin; but in Novem- 
 ber they begin to improve, and grow gradu- 
 ally better till May, when they are in the 
 highest perfection. 
 
 It is chiefly during the winter season that 
 our fishermen take them ; but the Dutc! , who 
 are indefatigable, begin their operations 
 earlier, and fish with better success than we. 
 The method practised by the fishermen of 
 Scarborough is thought to be the best among 
 the English ; and as Mr. Pennant has given 
 a very succinct account of it, I will take 
 leave to present it to the reader. 
 
 " When they go out to fish, each person is 
 provided with three lines: each man's lines 
 are fairly coiled upon a flat oblong piece of 
 wicker-work ; the hooks being baited and 
 placed very regularly in the centre of the 
 coil. Each line is furnished with two hun- 
 dred and eighty hooks, at the distance of six 
 feet two inches from each other. The hooks 
 are fastened to lines of twisted horse-hair, 
 twenty-seven inches in length. 
 
 " When fishing, there are always three men 
 in each coble ; and consequently nine of 
 these lines are fastened together, and us^d 
 as one line, extending in length near three 
 miles, and furnished with above two thousand 
 five hundred hooks. An anchor and a buoy 
 
634 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 are fixed at the first end of the line, and one 
 more at each end of each man's lines ; in all, 
 four anchors, and four buoys made of leather 
 or cork. The line is always laid across the 
 current. The tides of flood and ebb continue 
 an equal time upon our coast; and, when un- 
 disturbed by winds, run each way about six 
 hmir.s. They are so rapid that the fishermen 
 can only shoot and haul their lines at the turn 
 of the tide ; and therefore the lines always 
 remain upon the ground about six hours. 
 The same rapidity of tide prevents their using 
 hand-lines ; and, therefore, two of the people 
 commonly wrap themselves in the sail and 
 sleep, while the other keeps a strict look-out, 
 for fear of being run down by ships, and to 
 observe the weather : for storms often rise so 
 suddenly, that it is sometimes with extreme 
 difficulty they escape to the shore, though they 
 leave their lines behind them. 
 
 " The coble is twenty feet six inches long, 
 and five feet extreme breadth. It is about one 
 ton burden, rowed with three pair of oars, and 
 admirably constructed for the purpose of 
 encountering a mountainous sea. They hoist 
 sail when the wind suits. 
 
 " The five-men-boat is forty feet long, fifteen 
 broad, and twenty-five tons burden. It is so 
 called, though navigated by six men and a 
 boy ; because one of the men is hired to cook, 
 and does not share in the profits with the other 
 five. All our able fishermen go in these boats 
 to the herring fishery at Yarmouth, the latter 
 end of September, and return about the mid- 
 dle of November. The boats are then laid up 
 until the beginning of Lent, at which time 
 they go offin them to the edge of the Dogger, 
 and other places, to fish for turbot, cod, ling, 
 skate, &r. They always take two cobles on 
 board, and when they come upon their ground, 
 anchor the boat, throw out the cobles, and fish 
 in the same manner as those do who go from 
 the shore in a coble ; with this difference only, 
 that here each man is provided with double 
 the quantity of lines, and, instead of waiting 
 the return of the tide in the coble, return to 
 the boat, and bait their other lines ; thus haul- 
 ing one set and shooting another, every turn 
 of tide. They commonly run into the harbour j 
 twice a week, to deliver their fish. The five- j 
 men-boat is decked at each end, but open in 
 the middle, and has two long sails. 
 
 " The best bait for all kinds offish, is fresh 
 
 herring cut in pieces of a proper size ; and, 
 notwithstanding what has been said to the 
 contrary, they are taken there at any time in 
 the winter, and all the spring, win-never the 
 fishermen put down their nets for that pur- 
 pose : the five-men-boats always take some 
 nets for that end. Next to herrings are the 
 lesser lampreys, which come all winter by 
 land carriage from Tadcaster. The next 
 baits in esteem are small haddocks cut in 
 pieces, sand-worms, muscles, and limpets ; 
 and, lastly, when none of these can be found, 
 they use bullock's liver. The hooks used 
 there are much smaller than those employed 
 at Iceland and Newfoundland. Experience 
 has shown that the larger fish will take a liv- 
 ing small one upon the hook, sooner than any 
 bait that can be put on ; therefore they use 
 such as the fish can swallow. The hooks are 
 two inches and a half long in the shank ; and 
 near an inch wide between the shank and the 
 point. The line is made of small cording, 
 and is always tanned before it is used. All 
 the rays and turbots are extremely delicate in 
 their choice of baits : if a piece of herring or 
 haddock has been twelve hours out of the 
 sea, and then used as a bait, they will not 
 touch it." 
 
 Such is the manner of fishing for those fish 
 that usually keep near the bottom on the 
 coasts of England ; and Duhamel observes, 
 that the best weather for succeeding, is a half- 
 calm, when the waves are just curled with a 
 silent breeze. 
 
 But this extent of line, which runs, as we 
 have seen, three miles along the bottom, is 
 nothing to what the Italians throw out in the 
 Mediterranean. Their fishing is carried on in 
 a tartan, which is a vessel much larger than 
 ours ; and they bait a line of no less than 
 twenty miles long, with above ten or twelve 
 thousand hooks. This line is called the para- 
 sina : and the fishing goes by that of the pitla- 
 go. This line is not regularly drawn every 
 six hours, as with us, but remains for some 
 time in the sea, and it requires the space of 
 twenty-four hours to take it up. By this 
 apparatus they take rays, sharks, and other 
 fish ; some of which are above a thousand 
 pound weight. When they have caught any 
 of this magnitude, they strike them through 
 with a harpoon to bring them on board, and 
 kill them as fast as they can. 
 
CARTILAGINOUS FISHES. 
 
 635 
 
 This method of catching fish is obviously 
 fatiguing, and dangerous ; but the value of the 
 capture generally repays the pains. The 
 skate and the thorn-back are very good food, 
 and their size, which is from ten pounds to 
 two hundred weight, very well rewards the 
 trouble of fishing for them. But it sometimes 
 happens that the lines are visited by very un- 
 welcome intruders; by the rough ray, the 
 fire-flare, or the torpedo. To all these the 
 fishermen have the most mortal antipathy; 
 and, when discovered, shudder at the sight: 
 however, they are not always so much upon 
 their guard, but that they sometimes feel the 
 different resentments of this angry tribe ; and, 
 instead of a prize, find they have caught a 
 vindictive enemy. When such is the case, 
 they take care to throw them back into the 
 sea with the swiftest expedition. 
 
 The rough ray inflicts but slight wounds 
 with the prickles with which its whole body 
 is furnished. To the ignorant it seems harm- 
 less, and a man would at first sight venture to 
 take it in his hand, without any apprehension; 
 but he soon finds, that there is not a single 
 part of its body that is not armed with spines; 
 and that there is no way of seizing the ani- 
 mal, but by the little fin at the end of the tail. 
 
 But this animal is harmless, when compared 
 to the fire-flare, which seems to be the dread 
 of even the boldest and most experienced 
 fishermen. The weapon with which nature 
 has armed this animal, which grows from the 
 tail, and which we described as barbed, and 
 five inches long, hath been an instrument of 
 terror to the ancient fishermen as well as the 
 modern : and they have delivered man tre- 
 mendous fables of its astonishing effects. 
 Pliny, JElian, and Oppian, have supplied it 
 with a venom that affects even the inanimate 
 creation : trees that are struck by it instantly 
 lose their verdure, and rocks themselves are 
 incapable of resisting the potent poison. The 
 enchantress Circe armed her son with a spear 
 headed with the spine of the trygon, as the 
 most irresistible weapon she could furnish him 
 with; a weapon that soon after was to be 
 the death of his own father. 
 
 " That spears and darts," says Mr. Pennant, 
 
 The account of the venomous properties of this spine, 
 ai well as that it is shed annually, appears to be altogether 
 NO. 53 & 54. 
 
 might in very early times have been headed 
 with this bone instead of iron, we have no 
 doubt. The Americans head their arrows 
 with the bones of fishes to this day ; and, from 
 their hardness and sharpness, they are no con- 
 temptible weapons. But that this spine is pos- 
 sessed of those venomous qualities ascribed 
 to it, we have every reason to doubt; though 
 some men of high reputation, and the whole 
 body of fishermen, contend for its venomous 
 effects. It is, in fact, a weapon of offenc"e be- 
 longing to this animal and capable, from its 
 barbs, of inflicting a very terrible wound, at- 
 tended with dangerous symptoms ; but it can- 
 not be possessed of any poison, as the spine 
 has no sheath to preserve the supposed ve- 
 nom on its surface; and the animal has no 
 gland that separates the noxious fluid : besides, 
 all those animals that are furnished with en- 
 venomed fangs or stings, seem to have them 
 strongly connected with their safety and ex- 
 istence ; they never part with them ; there is 
 an apparatus of poison prepared in the body 
 to accompany their exertions; and when the 
 fangs or stings are taken away, the animal 
 languishes and dies. But it is otherwise with 
 the spine of the fire-flare; it is fixed to the 
 tail, as a quill is into the tail of a fowl, and is 
 annually shed in the same manner: it may be 
 necessary for the creature's defence, but it is 
 noway necessary for its existence. The wound 
 inflicted by an animal's tail, has something 
 terrible in the idea, and may from thence 
 alone be supposed to be fatal. From hence 
 terror might have added poison to the pain, 
 and called up imagined dangers: the negroes 
 universally believe that the sting is poisonous; 
 but they never die of the wound ; for by open- 
 ing the fish, and laying it to the part injured, 
 it effects a speedy cure. The slightness of 
 the remedy proves the innocence of the wound." 
 The Torpedo is an animal of this kind, 
 equally formidable and well known with the 
 former; but the manner of its operating is to 
 this hour a mystery to mankind. The body 
 of this fish is almost circular, and thicker than 
 others of the ray kind ; the skin is soft, smooth, 
 and of a yellowish colour, marked, as all the 
 kind, with large annular spots; the eves very 
 
 fabulous. It is probable that, by its great strength, it 
 may be able to inflict a painfully lacerated wound. 
 4X 
 
636 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 small; the tail tapering to a point; and the 
 weight of the fish from a quarter to fifteen 
 pounds. Redi found one twenty-four pounds 
 weight. To all outward appearance, it is fur- 
 nished with no extraordinary powers ; it has 
 no muscles formed for particularly great ex- 
 ertions; no internal conformation perceptibly 
 differing from the rest of its kind ; yet such is 
 that unaccountable power it possesses, that, 
 the instant it is touched, it numbs not only the 
 hand- and arm, but sometimes also the whole 
 body. The shock received, by all accounts, 
 most resembles the stroke of an electrical 
 machine; sudden, tingling, and painful. "The 
 instant," says Kempfer, " I touched it with my 
 hand, I felt a terrible numbness in my arm, 
 and as far up as the shoulder. Even if one 
 treads upon it with the shoe on, it affects not 
 only the leg, but the whole thigh upwards. 
 Those who touch it with the foot, are seized 
 with a stronger palpitation than even those 
 who touch it with the hand. This numbness 
 bears no resemblance to that which we feel 
 when a nerve is a long time pressed, and the 
 foot is said to be asleep; it rather appears 
 like a sudden vapour, which passing through 
 the pores in an instant, penetrates to the very 
 springs of life, from whence it diffuses itself 
 over the whole body, and gives real pain. 
 The nerves are so affected, that the person 
 struck imagines all the bones of his body, and 
 particularly those of the limb that received 
 the blow, are driven out of joint. All this is 
 accompanied with an universal tremor, a sick- 
 ness of the stomach, a general convulsion, arid 
 a total suspension of the faculties of the mind. 
 In short," continues Kempfer, "such is the 
 pain, that all the force of our promises and 
 authority could not prevail upon a seaman to 
 undergo the shock a second time. A negro, 
 indeed, that was standing by, readily under- 
 took to touch the torpedo, and was seen to 
 handle it without feeling any of its effects. 
 He informed us, that his whole secret con- 
 sisted in keeping in his breath ; and we found, 
 upon trial, that this method answered with 
 ourselves. When we held in our breath, the 
 torpedo was harmless; but when we breathed 
 ever so little, its efficacy took place." 
 
 Kempfer has very well described the effects 
 of this animal's shock; but succeeding ex- 
 perience has abundantly convinced us, that 
 
 holding in the breath no way guards against 
 its violence. Those, therefore, who depend- 
 ing on that receipt, should play with a tor- 
 pedo, would soon find themselves painfully 
 undeceived : not but that this fish may be 
 many times touched with perfect security; 
 for it is not upon every occasion that it ex- 
 erts its potency. Reaumur, who made seve- 
 ral trials upon this animal, has at least con- 
 vinced the world that it is not necessarily, but 
 by an effort, that the torpedo numbs the hand 
 of him that touches it. He tried several times, 
 and could easily tell when the fish intended 
 the stroke, and when it was about to continue 
 harmless. Always before the fish intended 
 the stroke, it flattened the back, raised the 
 head and the tail, and then, by a violent con- 
 traction in the opposite direction, struck with 
 its back against the pressing finger; and the 
 body, which before was flat, became humped 
 and round. 
 
 But we must not infer, as he has done, that 
 the whole effect of this animal's exertions 
 arise from the greatness of the blow which 
 the fingers receive at the instant they are 
 struck. We will, with him, allow that the 
 stroke is very powerful, equal to that of a 
 musquet-ball, since he will have it so; but it 
 is very well known, that a blow, though ne- 
 ver so great, on the points of the fingers, dif- 
 fuses no numbness over the whole body : such 
 a blow might break the ends of the fingers 
 indeed, but would hardly numb the shoulder. 
 Those blows that numb, must be applied im- 
 mediately to some great and leading nerve, or 
 to a large surface of the body ; a powerful 
 stroke applied to the points of the fingers 
 will be excessively painful indeed, but the 
 numbness will not reach beyond the fingers 
 themselves. We must, therefore, look for 
 another cause producing the powerful effects 
 wrought by the torpedo. 
 
 Others have ascribed it to a tremulous mo- 
 tion which this animal is found to possess, 
 somewhat resembling that of a horse's skin, 
 when stung by a fly. This operating under 
 the touch with an amazing quickness of vi- 
 bration, they suppose produces the uneasy 
 sensation described above; something simi- 
 lar to what we feel when we rub plush cloth 
 against the grain. But the cause is quite dis.- 
 proportioued to the effect; and so much be- 
 
CARTILAGINOUS FISHES. 
 
 637 
 
 yond our experience, that this solution is as 
 difficult as the wonder we want to explain. 
 
 The most probable solution seems to be, 
 that the shock proceeds from an animal elec- 
 tricity, which this fish has some hidden power 
 of storing up, and producing on its most urgent 
 occasions. The shocks are entirely similar ; 
 the duration of the pain is the same ; but how 
 the animal contrives to renew the charge, how 
 it is prevented from evaporating it on con- 
 tiguous objects, how it is originally procured, 
 these are difficulties that time alone can eluci- 
 date. 
 
 But to know even the effects is wisdom. 
 Certain it is. that the powers of this animal 
 seem to decline with its vigour ; for as its 
 strength ceases, the force of the shock seems 
 to diminish ; till, at last, w hen the fish is dead, 
 the whole power is destroyed, and it may be 
 handled or eaten with perfect security: on the 
 contrary, when immediately taken out of the 
 sea, its force is very great, and not only affects 
 the hand, but if even touched with a stick, the 
 person finds himself sometimes affected. This 
 power, however, is not to be extended to the 
 degree that some would have us believe ; as 
 reaching the fishermen at the end of the line, 
 or numbing fish, s in the same pond. Godig- 
 nus, in his History of Abyssinia, carries this 
 quality to a most ridiculous excess ; he tells us 
 of one of these that was put into a basket 
 among a number of dead fishes, and that the 
 next morning the people, to their utter aston- 
 ishment, perceived, that the torpedo had actu- 
 ally numbed the dead fishes into life again. 
 
 To conclude, it is generally supposed that 
 the female torpedo is much more powerful 
 than the male. Lorenzini, who has made 
 
 From a series of experiments made by Mr. Walsh, 
 and communicated to the Royal Society, it appears that 
 the powers of this animal are purely electric ; though no 
 spark could ever be discovered to proceed from it, nor 
 wore pith-balls ever affected by it. " A live Torpedo," 
 rnys this ingenious experimentalist, " was placed on a 
 table; round another table stood five persons insulated; 
 two brass wires, each thirteen feet long, were suspended 
 from the ceiling by silken strings; one of these wires rest- 
 ed by one end on the wet napkin on which the fish lay ; 
 the other end was immersed in a basin full of water, p-'aced 
 on a second table, on which stood four other basins like- 
 wise full of water ; the first person put a finger (if one 
 hand in the basin in which the wire was immersed, and a 
 finger of the other hand in a second basin : the second 
 person put a finger of one hand in this last basin, and a 
 f.nger of the other hand in the third ; and so on succes- 
 
 several experiments upon this animal, seems 
 convinced that its power wholly resides in two 
 thin muscles that cover a part of the back. 
 These he calls the trembling fibres ; and he 
 asserts that the animal may be touched with 
 safety in any other part It is now known 
 also that there are more fish, than this of the 
 ray kind, possessed of the numbing quality, 
 which has acquired them the name of the tor- 
 pedo. These are described by Atkins and 
 Moore, and found in great abundance along 
 the coast of Africa. They are shaped like a 
 mackarel, except that the head is much larger; 
 the effects of these seem also to differ in some 
 respects. Moore talks of keeping his hand 
 upon the animal ; u hich in the ray torpedo it 
 is actually impossible to do. " There was no 
 man in the company," says he, " that could 
 bear to keep his hand on this animal the 
 twentieth part of a minute, it gave him so 
 great pain ; but upon taking the hand away, 
 the numbness went off, and all was well again. 
 This numbing quality continued in this torpedo 
 even after it was dead ; and the very skin was 
 still possessed of its extraordinary power till it 
 became dry." Condamine informs us of a fish 
 possessed of the pouers of the torpedo, of a 
 shape very different from the former, and every 
 way resembling a lamprey. This animal, if 
 touched by the hand, or even w ith a stick, 
 instantly benumbs the hand and arm to the 
 wry shoulder ; and sometimes the man falls 
 down under the blow. These animals, there- 
 fore, must affect the nervous system in a dif- 
 ferent manner from the former, both with re- 
 spect to the manner and the intention ; but 
 hnw this effect is wrought, we must be content 
 to dismiss in obscurity.* 
 
 sively,till the five persons communicated with one another 
 by the water in the basins. In the last basin, one end of 
 the second wire was immersed, and with the other end 
 Mr. Walsh touched the torpedo ; when five persons felt a 
 commotion, which differed in nothing from that of the 
 Leyden experiment, except in the degree of force. Mr. 
 Walsh, who was not in the circle of conduction, received 
 no shock. The action of the torpedo is communicated 
 by the same mediums as that of the electric fluid; and 
 the bodies which intercept the action of the one, intercept 
 likewise the action of the other. The effect produced by 
 the torpedo, when in air, appeared, on many repeated ex- 
 periments, to be about four times as strong as when in 
 water. The numbness produced by the shock of the tor- 
 pedo was imitated by artificial electricity, and shown to 
 be producible by a quick concussion of minute shocks. 
 This, in the torpedo, may be effected by the successive 
 4X 
 
638 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 CHAPTER CXLV. 
 
 OF THE LAMPREY, AND ITS AFFINITIES. 
 
 THERE is a species of the Lamprey 
 served up as a great delicacy among the 
 modern Romans, very different from ours. 
 Whether theirs be the maraena of the ancients 
 I will not pretend to say ; but there is no- 
 thing more certain than that our lamprey is not. 
 The Roman lamprey agrees with the ancient 
 fish in being kept in ponds, and considered 
 by the luxurious as a very great delicacy. 
 
 The lamprey, known among us, is different- 
 ly estimated, according to the season in which 
 it is caught, or the place where it has been 
 fed. Those that leave the sea to deposit their 
 spawn in fresh waters are the best : those 
 that are entirely bred in our rivers, and that 
 have never been at sea, are considered as 
 much inferior to the former. Those that are 
 taken in the months of March, April, or May, 
 just upon their leaving tne sea. are reckoned 
 very good ; those that are caught after they 
 have cast their spawn, are found to be flabby, 
 and of little value. Those caught in several 
 of the rivers in Ireland, the people will not 
 venture to touch ; those of the English Severn, 
 are considered as the most delicate of all other 
 fish whatever. 
 
 The lamprey much resembles an eel in its 
 general appearance, but is of a lighter colour, 
 and rather a clumsier make. It differs how- 
 ever in the mouth, which is round, and placed 
 rather obliquely below the end of the nose. 
 It more resembles the mouth of a leech than 
 an eel ; and the animal has a hole on the top 
 of the head through which it spouts water, as 
 in the cetaceous kind. There are seven holes 
 on each side for respiration ; and the fins are 
 formed rather by a lengthening out of the skin, 
 than any set of bones or spines for that pur- 
 pose. As the mouth is formed resembling 
 
 discharges of his numerous cylinders, the organs of its 
 power, in the nature of a running fire of musquetry ; the 
 strong single shock may be his general volley. In the 
 continued effect, as well as the instantaneous, his eyes, 
 which are usually prominent, are withdrawn into their 
 sockets. A coated vial was applied to it, but could not 
 
 that of a leech, so it has a property resembling 
 that animal, of sticking close to and sucking 
 any body it is applied to. It is extraordinary 
 the power they have of adhering to stones ; 
 which they do so firmly, as not to be drawn 
 off without some difficulty. We are told of 
 one that weighed but three pounds ; and yet 
 it stuck so firmly to a stone of twelve pounds, 
 that it remained suspended at its mouth, from 
 which it was separated with no small difficulty. 
 This amazing power of suction is supposed to 
 arise from the animal's exhausting the air 
 within its body by the hole over the nose, 
 while the mouth is closely fixed to the object, 
 and permits no air to enter. It would be easy 
 to determine the weight this animal is thus able 
 to sustain ; which will be equal to the weight 
 of a column of air of equal diameter with the 
 fish's mouth. 
 
 From some peculiarity of formation, this 
 animal swims generally with its body as nrar 
 as possible to the surface; and it might easily 
 be drowned by being kept by force for any 
 time under water. Muralto has given us the 
 anatomy of this animal ; but, in a very minute 
 description, makes no mention of lungs. Yet 
 I am very apt to suspect, that two red glands 
 tissued with nerves, which he describes as 
 lying towards the back of the head, are no 
 other than the lungs of this animal. The 
 absolute necessity it is under of breathing in 
 the air, convinces me that it must have lungs, 
 though I do not know of any anatomist that 
 has described them. 
 
 The adhesive quality in the lamprey may 
 be in some measure increased by that slimy 
 substance with which its body is all over 
 smeared ; a substance that serves at once to 
 keep it warm in its cold element, and also to 
 
 be charged. Two other fishes are known to possess this 
 extraordinary power : the electrical Eef, which is able to 
 give a shock even greater than the torpedo; and the elec- 
 tric Silurus, whose shock is much less vigorous than either 
 of the others. 
 
CARTILAGINOUS FISHES. 
 
 639 
 
 keep its skin soft and pliant. This mucus is 
 separated by two long lymphatic canals, that 
 extend on each side from the head to the tail, 
 and that furnish it in great abundance. As 
 to its intestines, it seems to have but one great 
 bowel running from the mouth to the vent, 
 narrow at both ends, and wide in the mid- 
 dle. 
 
 So simple a conformation seems to imply 
 an equal simplicity of appetite. In fact, the 
 lamprey's food is either slime and water, or 
 such small water-insects as are scarcely per- 
 ceivable. Perhaps its appetite may be more 
 active at sea, of which it is properly a native ; 
 but when it comes up into our rivers, it is 
 hardly perceived to devour any thing. 
 
 Its usual time of leaving the sea, which it is 
 annually seen to do in order to spawn, is 
 about the beginning of spring ; and after a 
 stay of a few months it returns again to the 
 sea. Their preparation for spawning is pecu- 
 liar ; their manner is to make holes in the 
 gravelly bottom of rivers ; arid on this occa- 
 sion their sucking power is particularly ser- 
 viceable ; for if they meet with a stone of a 
 considerable size, they will remove it, and 
 throw it out. Their young are produced 
 from eggs in the manner of flat fish ; the fe- 
 male remains near the place where they are 
 excluded, and continues with them till they 
 come forth. She is sometimes seen with her 
 whole family playing about her ; and after 
 some time she conducts them in triumph back 
 to the ocean. 
 
 But some have not sufficient strength to re- 
 turn ; and these continue in the fresh water 
 till they die. Indeed the life of this fish, ac- 
 cording to Rondeletius, who has given its his- 
 tory, is but of very short continuance ; and a 
 single brood is the extent of the female's fer- 
 tility. As soon as she has returned after cast- 
 ing her eggs, she seems exhausted and flabby. 
 
 She becomes old before her time ; and two 
 years is generally the limit of her existence. 
 
 However this may be, they are very indiffer- 
 ent eating after they have cast their eggs, and 
 particularly at. the approach of hot weather. 
 The best season for them is the months of 
 March, April, and May ; and they are usually 
 taken in nets with salmon, and sometimes in 
 baskets at the bottom of the river. It has been 
 an old custom, for the city of Gloucester 
 annually to present the king with a lamprey- 
 pie ; and as the gift is made at Christmas, it 
 is not without groat difficulty the corporation 
 can procure the proper quantity, though they 
 give a guinea a- piece for taking them. 
 
 How much they were valued among the 
 ancients, or a fish bearing some resemblance 
 to them, appears from all the classics that 
 have praised good living, or ridiculed glut- 
 tony. One story we are told of this fish, with 
 which I will conclude its history. A senator 
 of Rome, whose name does not deserve being 
 transmitted to posterity, was famous for the* 
 delicacy of his lampreys. Tigelinus, Manu- 
 cius, and all the celebrated epicures of Rome, 
 were loud in his praises : no man's fish had 
 such a flavour, was so nicely fed, or so exactly 
 pickled. Augustus, hearing so much of this 
 man's entertainments, desired to be his guest; 
 and soon found that fame had been just to his 
 merits ; the man had indeed very fine lam- 
 preys, and of an exquisite flavour. The 
 emperor was desirous of knowing the method 
 by hich he fed his fish to so fine a relish ; 
 and the glutton, making no secret of his art, 
 informed him that his way was to throw into 
 his ponds such of his slaves as had at any 
 time displeased him. Augustus, we are told, 
 was not much pleased with his receipt, and 
 instantly ordered all his ponds to be filled up. 
 The story would have ended better, if he had 
 ordered the owner to be flung in also. 
 
640 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 CHAPTER CXLVI. 
 
 THE STURGEON, AND ITS VARIETIES. 
 
 THE Sturgeon, with a form as terrible, and 
 a body as large, a's the shark, is yet as harm- 
 less as the fish we have been just describing; 
 incapable and unwilling to injure others, it 
 flies from the smallest fishes, and generally 
 falls a victim to its own timidity. 
 
 The sturgeon in its general form resembles 
 a fresh-water pike. The nose is long ; the 
 mouth is situated beneath, being small, and 
 without jaw-bones or teeth. But though it 
 is so harmless and ill provided for war, the 
 body is formidable enough to appearance. 
 It is long, pentagonal, and covered with five 
 rows of large bony knobs, one row on the 
 back and two on each side, and a number of 
 fins to give it greater expedition. Of this fish 
 there are three kinds; the Common Sturgeon, 
 the Caviar Sturgeon, and the Huso or Isjn- 
 glass Fish. The first has eleven knobs or 
 scales on the back ; the second has fifteen ; 
 and the latter thirteen on the back, and forty- 
 three on the tail. These differences seem 
 slight to us who only consider the animal's 
 form ; but those who consider its uses find the 
 distinction of considerable importance. The 
 first is the sturgeon, the flesh of which is sent 
 pickled into a-11 parts of Europe. The se- 
 cond is the fish from the roe of which that 
 noted delicacy called Caviar is made; and 
 the third, besides supplying the caviar, fur- 
 nishes also the valuable commodity of isin- 
 glass. They all grow to a very great size ; 
 and some of them have been found above 
 eighteen feet long." 
 
 There is not a country in Europe but what 
 this fish visits at different seasons; it annual- 
 ly ascends the largest rivers to spawn, and 
 propagates in an amazing number. The in- 
 habitants along the banks of the Po, the Da- 
 nube, and the Wolga, make great profit year- 
 ly of its incursions up the stream, and have 
 
 Isinglass is prepared from various other fishes, but 
 principally from the White Dolphin, or Belluga of North ! 
 
 their nets prepared for its reception. The 
 sturgeon also is brought daily to the markets 
 of Rome and Venice, and they are known to 
 abound in the Mediterranean sea. Yet those 
 fish that keep entirely either in salt or fresh 
 water are but comparatively small. When 
 the sturgeon enjoys the vicissitude of fresh 
 and salt water, it is then that it grows to an 
 enormous size, so as almost to rival even the 
 whale in magnitude. 
 
 Nor are we without frequent visits from 
 this much esteemed fish in England. It is 
 often accidentally taken in our rivers in sal- 
 mon-nets, and particularly in those parts that 
 are not far remote from the sea. The largest 
 we have heard of, caught in Great Britain, 
 was a fish taken in the Eske, where they are 
 most frequently found, which weighed four 
 hundred and sixty pounds. An enormous 
 size to those who have only seen our fresh- 
 water fishes ! 
 
 North America also furnishes the sturgeon; 
 their rivers in May, June, and July, supply 
 them in very great abundance. At that time 
 they are seen sporting in the water, and leap- 
 ing from its surface several yards into the air. 
 When they fall again on their sides, the con- 
 cussion is so violent, that the noise is heard 
 in still weather at some miles distance. 
 
 But of all places where this atumal is to be 
 found, it appears no where in such numbers 
 as in the lakes of Frischehaff and CurischafF, 
 near the city of Pillau. In the rivers also 
 that empty themselves into the Euxine sea, 
 this fish is caught in great numbers, particu- 
 larly at the mouth of the river Don. In all 
 these places the fishermen regularly expect 
 
 f O * I 
 
 their arrival from the sea, and have their nets 
 
 and salt ready prepared for their reception. 
 
 As the sturgeon is a harmless fish, and no 
 
 way voracious, it is never caught by a bait 
 
 America. This well-known substance is made from the 
 sound, or air-bladder. 
 
CARTILAGINOUS FISHES. 
 
 641 
 
 in the ordinary manner of fishing, but always 
 in nets. From the description given above 
 of its mouth, it is not to be supposed that the 
 sturgeon would swallow any hook capable of 
 holding so large a bulk and so strong a swim- 
 In fact, it never attempts to seize any 
 
 mer. 
 
 of the finny tribe, but lives by rooting at the 
 bottom of the sea, where it makes insects and 
 sea-plants its whole subsistence. From this 
 quality of floundering at the bottom it has re- 
 ceived its name; which comes from the Ger- 
 man \erbfloeren, signifying to wallow in the 
 mud. That it lives upon no large animals is 
 obvious to all those who cut it open, where 
 nothing is found in its stomach but a kind of 
 slimy substance, which has induced some to 
 think it lives only upon water and air. 
 From hence there is a German proverb, which 
 is applied to a man extremely temperate, 
 when they say, he is as moderate as a stur- 
 geon. 
 
 As the sturgeon is so temperate in its ap- 
 petites, so is it also equally timid in its nature. 
 There would be scarcely any method of ta- 
 king it, did not its natural desire of propaga- 
 tion induce it to incur so great a variety of 
 dangers. The smallest fish is alone sufficient 
 to terrify a shoal of sturgeons; for, being un- 
 furnished with any weapon of defence, they 
 are obliged to trust to their swiftness and 
 their caution for security. Like all animals 
 that do not make war upon others, sturgeons 
 live in society among themselves; rather for 
 the purposes of pleasure than from any power 
 of mutual protection. Gesner even asserts, 
 that they are delighted with sounds of various 
 kinds; and that he has seen them shoal to- 
 gether, at the notes of a trumpet. 
 
 The usual time, as was said before, for the 
 sturgeon to come up rivers to deposit its spawn, 
 is about the beginning of summer, when the 
 fishermen of all great rivers make a regular 
 preparation for its reception. At Pillau, par- 
 ticularly, the shores are formed into districts, 
 and allotted to companies of fishermen, some 
 of which are rented for about three hundred 
 pounds a year. The nets in which the stur- 
 geon is caught, are made of small cord, and 
 placed across the mouth of the river; but in 
 such a manner that, whether the tide ebbs or 
 flows, the pouch of the net goes with the 
 stream. The sturgeon thus caught, while in 
 
 |j the water, is one of the strongest fishes that 
 swims, and often breaks the net to pieces that 
 ! encloses it; but the instant it is raised with 
 ' its head above water, all its activity ceases; 
 it is then a lifeless, spiritless lump, and suffers 
 itself to be tamely dragged on shore. It has 
 been found prudent, however, to draw it to 
 shore gently ; for if excited by any unneces- 
 sary violence, it has been found to break the 
 fishermen's legs with a blow of its tail. The 
 most experienced fishers, therefore, when 
 they have drawn it to the brink, keep the 
 head still elevated, which prevents its doing 
 any mischief with the hinder part of the body : 
 others, by a noose, fasten the head and the 
 tail together; and thus, without immediately 
 despatching it, bring it to the market, if there 
 be one near, or keep it till their number is 
 completed for exportation. 
 
 The flesh of this animal, pickled, is very 
 well known at all the tables of Europe ; and 
 is even more prized in England than in any 
 of the countries where it is usually caught. 
 The fishermen have two different methods of 
 preparing it. The one is by cutting it in long 
 pieces lengthwise, and, having -salted them, 
 by hanging them up in the sun to dry: the 
 fish thus prepared is sold in all the countries 
 of the Levant, and supplies the want of bet- 
 ter provision. The other method, which is 
 usually practised in Holland, and along the 
 shores of the Baltic, is to cut the sturgeon 
 crosswise, into short pieces, and put it in small 
 barrels, with a pickle made of salt and sau- 
 mure. This is the sturgeon which is sold in 
 England ; and of which great quantities came 
 from the North, until we gave encouragement 
 to the importation of it from North America. 
 From thence we are very well supplied ; but 
 it is said, not with such good fish as those im- 
 ported from (he North of Europe. 
 
 A very great trade is also carried on with 
 the roe of the sturgeon, preserved in a par- 
 ticular manner, and called Caviar: it is made 
 from the roe of all kinds of sturgeon, but par- 
 ticularly the second. This is much more in 
 request in other countries of Europe than 
 with us. To all these high-relished meats, 
 the appetite must be formed by degrees ; and 
 though formerly even in England it was very 
 much in request at the politest tables, it is at 
 present sunk entirely into disuse. It is still, 
 
642 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 however, a considerable merchandise among 
 the Turks, Greeks, and Venetians. Caviar 
 somewhat resembles soft soap in consistence; 
 but it is of a brown, uniform colour, and is 
 eaten as cheese with bread. The manner of 
 making it is this : they take the spawn from 
 the body of the sturgeon for it is to be ob- 
 served, the sturgeon differs from other car- 
 tilaginous fish, in that it has spawn like a cod, 
 and not eggs like a ray. They take the spawn, 
 I say, and freeing it from the small membranes 
 that connect it together, they wash it with 
 vinegar, and afterwards spread it to dry upon 
 a table; they then put it into a vessel with 
 salt, breaking the spawn with their hands, and 
 not with a pestle ; this done, they put it into 
 a canvas bag, letting the liquor drain from 
 it; lastly, they put it into a tub, with holes in 
 the bottom, so that, if there be any moisture 
 still remaining, it may run out : then it is press- 
 ed down, and covered up close for use. 
 
 But the Huso or Isinglass fish furnishes a 
 still more valuable commodity. This fish is 
 caught in great quantities in the Danube, 
 from the month of October to January : it is 
 seldom under fifty pounds weight, and often 
 above four hundred : its flesh is soft, gluti- 
 nous, and flabby ; but it is sometimes salted, 
 which makes it better tasted, and then it turns 
 red like salmon. It is for the commodity it 
 furnishes that it is chiefly taken. Isinglass is 
 of a whitish substance, inclining to yellow, 
 done up into rolls, and so exported for use. 
 It is very well known as serviceable, riot only 
 in medicine, but many arts. The varnisher, 
 the wine-merchant, and even the clothier, 
 know its uses; and very great sums are 
 yearly expended upon this single article of 
 commerce. The manner of making it is this: 
 they take the skin, the entrails, the fins, and 
 
 the tail of this fish, and cut them into small 
 pieces ; these are left to macerate in a suffi- 
 cient quantity of warm water, and they are 
 all boiled shortly after with a slow fire, until 
 they are dissolved and reduced to a jelly; 
 this jelly is spread upon instruments made for 
 the purpose, so, that drying, it assumes the 
 form of parchment, and, when quite dry, it is 
 then rolled into the form which we see it in 
 the shops. 
 
 This valuable commodity is principally 
 furnished from Russia, where they prepare 
 
 Jreat quantities surprisingly cheap. Mr. 
 ackson, an ingenious countryman of our 
 own, found out an obvious method of making 
 a glue at home that answered all the purposes 
 of isinglass ; but what with the trouble of 
 making it, and perhaps the arts put in prac- 
 tice to under-sell him, he was, as I am told, 
 obliged to discontinue the improvement of 
 his discovery. Indeed, it is a vain attempt 
 to manufacture among ourselves those things 
 which may be more naturally and cheaply 
 supplied elsewhere. We have many trades 
 that are unnaturally, if I may so express it, 
 employed among us; who furnish more labo- 
 riously those necessaries with which other 
 countries could easily and cheaply supply 
 us. It would be wiser to take what they can 
 thus produce; and to turn ourartizans to the 
 increase and manufacture of such productions 
 as thrive more readily among us. Were, for 
 instance, the number of hands that we have 
 now employed in the manufacture of silk, 
 turned to the increase of agriculture, it is 
 probable that the increased quantity of corn 
 thus produced, would be more than an 
 equivalent for the diminution of national 
 wealth in purchasing wrought silk from other 
 countries. 
 
 CHAPTER CXLVII. 
 
 OF ANOMALOUS CARTILAGINOUS FISHES. 
 
 OF all others, the Cartilaginous class 
 seems to abound with the greatest variety of 
 ill-formed animals ; and. if philosophy could 
 
 allow the expression, we might say, that the 
 cartilaginous class was the class of monsters; 
 in fact, it exhibits a variety of shapeless be- 
 
CARTILAGINOUS FISHES. 
 
 643 
 
 ings, the deviations of which from the usual 
 form of fishes are beyond the power of words 
 to describe, and scarcely of the pencil to 
 draw. In this class we have the Pipe Fish, 
 that almost tapers to a thread, and the Sun 
 Fish, that has the appearance of a bulky 
 head, but the body cut off in the middle; 
 the Hippocampus, with ahead somewhat like 
 that of a horse, and the Water Bat, whose 
 head can scarcely be distinguished from the 
 body. In this class we find the Fishing Frog, 
 which from its deformity some have called 
 the Sea Devil ; the Chimaera, the Lump Fish, 
 the Sea Porcupine, and the Sea Snail. Of 
 all these the history is but little known; and 
 naturalists supply the place with descrip- 
 tion. 
 
 The Sun Fish sometimes grows to a very 
 large size ; one taken near Plymouth was 
 five hundred weight. In form it resembles a 
 bream, or some deep fish cut off in the mid- 
 dle: the mouth is very small, and contains in 
 each jaw two broad teeth, with sharp edges: 
 the colour of the back is dusky and dnppled, 
 and the belly is of a silvery white. When 
 boiled, it has been observed to turn to a glu- 
 tinous jelly, and would most probably serve 
 for all the purposes of isinglass, were it found 
 in sufficient plenty. 
 
 The Fishing Frog in shape very much re- 
 sembles a tadpole or young frog; but then a 
 tadpole of enormous size, for it grows to above 
 five feet long, and its mouth is sometimes a 
 y:rd wide. Nothing can exceed its deformi- 
 ty. The head is much bigger than the whole 
 body; the under jaw projects beyond the up- 
 per, and both are armed with rows of slender 
 sharp teeth : the palate arid the tongue are 
 furnished with teeth in like manner: the eyes 
 are placed on the top of the head, and are en- 
 compassed with prickles: immediately above 
 the nose, are two long beards or filaments, 
 small in the beginning, but thicker at the end, 
 and round : these, as it is said, answer a very 
 singular purpose; for being made somewhat 
 resembling a fishing- line, it is asserted, that 
 the animal converts them to the purposes of 
 fishing. With these extended, as Pliny as- 
 serts, the fishing frog hides in muddy waters, 
 and leaves nothing but the beards to be seen: . 
 the curiosity of the smaller fish brings them 
 to view these filaments, and their hunger in- 
 
 KO. 55 & jtf. 
 
 duces them to seize the bait ; upon which the 
 animal in ambush instantly draws in its fila- 
 ments, with the little fish that had taken the 
 bait, and devours it without mercy. This 
 story, though apparently improbable, has 
 found credit among some of our best natural- 
 ists; but what induces me to doubt the fact 
 is, that there is another species of this ani- 
 mal, that has no beards, which it would not 
 want if they were necessary to the existence 
 of the kind. Rondeletius informs us, that if 
 we take out the bowels, the body will appear 
 with a kind of transparence; and that if a 
 lighted candle be placed within the body, ae 
 in a lantern, the whole has a very formidable 
 appearance. The fishermen, however, have 
 in general a great regard for this ugly fish, an 
 it is an enemy to the dog-fish, the bodies of 
 those fierce and voracious animals being often 
 found in its stomach : whenever they take it, 
 therefore, they always set it at liberty. 
 
 The Lump Fish is trifling in size, compar- 
 ed to the former : its length is but sixteen in- 
 ches, and its weight about four pounds; the 
 shape of the body is like that of a bream, 
 deep, and it swims edgeways; the back is 
 sharp and elevated, and the belly flat; the 
 lips, mouth, and tongue of this animal, are of 
 a deep red ; the whole skin is rough, with 
 bony knobs; the largest row is along the ridge 
 of the back; the belly is of a bright crimson 
 colour: but what makes the chieisingularity 
 in this fish, is an oval aperture in the belly, 
 surrounded with a fleshy soft substance that 
 seems bearded all round ; by means of this 
 part it adheres with vast force to any thing 
 it pleases. If flung into a pail of water, it will 
 stick so close to the bottom, that on taking 
 the fish by the tail, one may lift up pail and 
 all, though it holds several gallons of water. 
 Great numbers of these fish are found along 
 the coasts of Greenland in the beginning of 
 summer, where they resort to spawn. Their 
 roe is remarkably large, and theGreenlandere 
 boil it to a pulp for eating. They are extreme- 
 ly fat, but not admired in England, being both 
 flabby and insipid. 
 
 The Sea Snail takes its name from the soft 
 and unctuous texture of its body, resembling 
 the snail upon land. It is almost transparent, 
 and soon dissolves and melts away. It is but 
 a little animal, being not above five inches 
 
 4 Y 
 
644 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 long. The colour, when fresh taken, is of a 
 pale brown, the shape of the body round, and 
 the back fin reaches all the way from the 
 head to the tail. Beneath the throat is a 
 round depression, of a whitish colour, sur- 
 rounded by twelve brown spots, placed in a 
 circle. It is taken in England at the mouth 
 of rivers, four or five miles distant from the sea. 
 
 The body of the Pipe Fish, in the thickest 
 part, is not thicker than a swan-quill, while 
 it is above sixteen inches long. This is angu- 
 lar, but the angles being not very sharp, they 
 are not discernible until the fish is dried. Its 
 general colour is an olive-brown, marked with 
 numbers of bluish lines, pointing from the 
 back to the belly. It is. viviparous ; for on 
 crushing one that was just taken, hundreds of 
 very minute young ones were observed to 
 crawl about. 
 
 The Hippocampus, which, from the form 
 of its head, some call the Sea-horse, never 
 exceeds nine inches in length. It is about as 
 thick as a man's thumb, and the body is said, 
 while alive, to have hair on the fore-part, 
 which falls off when it is dead. The snout is 
 a sort of a tube with a hole at the bottom, to 
 which there is a cover, which the animal can 
 open and shut at pleasure. Behind the eyes 
 there are two fius which look like ears ; and 
 above them are two holes which serve for 
 respiration. The whole body seems to be 
 composed of cartilaginous rings, on the inter- 
 mediate membranes of which several small 
 prickles are placed. It is found in the Medi- 
 terranean, and also in the Western Ocean ; 
 and, upon the whole, more resembles a great 
 caterpillar than a fish. The ancients con- 
 sidered it as extremely venomous ; probably 
 induced by its peculiar figure. 
 
 From these harmless animals, covered with 
 a slight coat of mail, we may proceed to 
 others, more thickly defended, and more for- 
 midably armed, whose exact station in the 
 scale of fishes is not yet ascertained. While 
 Linnaeus ranks them among the cartilaginous 
 kinds, a later naturalist places them among 
 the spinous class. With which tribe they 
 most agree, succeeding observations must de- 
 termine. At present we seem better acquaint- 
 ed with their figure than their history : their 
 deformity is obvious ; and the venomous na- 
 ture of the greatest number, has been confirm- 
 ed by fatal experience. This circumstance, 
 
 as well as the happy distance at which they 
 are placed from us, being all found in the 
 Oriential or American seas, may have pre- 
 vented a more critical inquiry ; so that we 
 know but little of the nature of their malignity, 
 and still less of their pursuits and enmities in 
 the deep. 
 
 In the first of this tribe we may place the 
 Sea Orb, which is almost round, has a mouth 
 like a frog, and is from seven inches to two 
 feet long. Like the porcupine, from whence 
 it sometimes takes ils name, being also called 
 the Sea Porcupine, it is covered over with 
 long thorns or prickles, which point on every 
 side ; and, when the animal is enraged, it can 
 blow up its body as round as a bladder. Of 
 this extraordinary creature there are nmny 
 kinds: some threatening only with spines, as 
 the Sea Hedgehog; others defended with a 
 bony helmet that covers the hi ad, as the Os- 
 tracion ; others with a coat of mail from the 
 head to the tail, where it terminates in a point, 
 as the Centriscus; and others still armed offen- 
 sively and defensively with bones and spines, 
 as the Shield Orb. 
 
 Of these scarcely one is without its peculiar 
 weapon of offence. Thecentriscus wounds with 
 its spine ; the ostracion poisons w ith its venom ; 
 theorb is impregnable, and is absolutely poison- 
 ous if eaten. Indeed, their figure is not such s 
 would tempt one to make the experiment 4 
 and the natives of those countries where they 
 are found, are careful to inform foreigners of 
 their danger: yet a certain sailor at the Cape 
 of Good Hope, not believing what the Dutch 
 told him concerning their venom, was resolved 
 to make the experiment, and break through a 
 prejudice, which, he supposed, was founded 
 on the animal's deformity. He tried, and ate 
 one ; but his rashness cost him his life ; he in- 
 stantly fell sick, and died a few days after. 
 
 These frightful animals are of different 
 sizes ; some not bigger than a foot-ball, and 
 others as large as a bushel. They almost all 
 flatten and erect their spines at pleasure, and 
 increase the terrors of their appearance in pro- 
 portion to the approach of danger. At first 
 they seem more inoffensive; their body oblong, 
 with all their weapons pointing towards the 
 tail ; but, upon being proveked or alarmed, 
 the body, that before seemed small, swells to 
 the view ; the animal visibly grows rounder 
 and larger, and all its prickles stand upright, 
 
CARTILAGINOUS FISHES. 
 
 646 
 
 and threaten the invader on every side. The 
 Americans often amuse themselves with the 
 barren pleasure of catching these frightful 
 creatures by a line and hook, baited with a 
 piece of sea-crab. The animal approaches 
 the bait with its spines flattened ; but when 
 hooked and stopped by the line, straight all 
 its spines are erected ; the whole body being 
 armed in such a manner at all points, that it 
 is impossible to lay hold of it on any part. 
 For this reason it is dragged to some distance 
 from the water, and there it quickly expires. 
 In the middle of the belly of all these there 
 is a sort of bag or bladder filled with air, and 
 by the inflation of which the animal swells it- 
 self in the manner already mentioned. 
 
 In describing the deformed animals of this 
 class, one is sometimes at a loss whether it be 
 a fish or an insect that lies before him. Thus 
 the hippocampus and the pipe-fish bear a 
 strong resemblanc^to the caterpillar and the 
 worm; while the lesser orb bears some like- 
 ness to the class of sea-eggs to be described 
 after. I will conclude this account of carti- 
 laginous fishes with the description of an ani- 
 mal which I would scarcely call a fish, but 
 that Father Labat dignifies it with the name. 
 Indeed, this class teems with such a number 
 of odd-shaped animals, that one is prompted 
 to rank every thing extraordinary of the finny 
 species among the number ; but besides, Labat 
 says, its bones are cartilaginous, and that may 
 entitle it to a place here. 
 
 The animal I mean is the Galley Fish, which 
 Linnaeus degrades into the insect tribe, under 
 the title of the Medusa, but which I choose to 
 place in this tribe, from its habits, that are 
 somewhat similar. To the eye of an unmind- 
 ful spectator, this fish seems a transparent 
 bubble swimming on the surface of the sea, 
 or like a bladder variously and beautifully 
 painted with vivid colours, where red and 
 violet predominate, as variously opposed to 
 the beams of the sun. It is, however, an ac- 
 tual fish ; the body of which is composed of 
 
 cartilages, and a very thin skin filled with air, 
 which thus keeps the animal floating on the 
 surface, as the waves and the winds happen 
 to drive. Sometimes it is seen thrown on the 
 shore by one wave, and again washed back 
 into the sea by another. Persons who hap- 
 pen to be walking along the shore often hap- 
 pen to tread upon these animals; and the 
 bursting of their body yields a report like 
 that when one treads upon the swim of a fish. 
 It has eight broad feet, with which it swims, 
 or which it expands to catch the air as with 
 a sail. It fastens itself to whatever it meets 
 by means of its legs, which have an adhesive 
 quality. Whether they move when on shore, 
 Labat could never perceive, though he did 
 every thing to make them stir; he only saw 
 that it strongly adhered to whatever sub- 
 stances he applied it. It is very common in 
 America, and grows to the size of a goose- 
 egg, or somewhat more. It is perpetually 
 seen floating ; and no efforts that are used 
 to hurt it can sink it to the bottom. All that 
 appears above water is a bladder, clear and 
 transparent as glass, and shining with the 
 most beautiful colours of the rainbow. Be- 
 neath, in the water, are four of the feet al- 
 ready mentioned, that serve as oars, while 
 the other four are expanded above to sail 
 with. But what is most remarkable in this 
 extraordinary creature, is the violent pun- 
 gency of the slimy substance with which its 
 legs are smeared. If the smallest quantity 
 but touch the skin, so caustic is its quality, 
 that it burns it like hot oil dropped on the 
 part affected. The pain is worst in the heat 
 of the day, but ceases in the cool of the even- 
 ing. It is from feeding on these that he thinks 
 the poisonous quality contracted by some 
 West Indian fish may be accounted for. It 
 is certain these animals are extremely com- 
 mon along all the coasts in the Gulf of 
 Mexico ; and whenever the shore is covered 
 with them in an unusual manner, it is con- 
 sidered as a certain forerunner of a storm. 
 
 4Y* 
 
646 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 OF SPXNOUS FISHES. 
 
 CHAPTER CXLVII1. 
 
 THE DIVISION OF SPINOUS FISHES. 
 
 THE third general division of fishes is into 
 that of the spinous or bony kind. These are 
 obviously distinguished from the rest by hav- 
 ing a complete bony covering to their gills ; 
 by their being furnished with no other method 
 of breathing but gills only ; by their bones, 
 which are sharp and thorny ; and their tails, 
 which are placed in a situation perpendicular 
 to the body. This is that class which alone 
 our later naturalists are willing to admit as 
 fishes. The cetaceous class with them are 
 but beasts that have taken up their abode in 
 the ocean ; the cartilaginous class are an 
 amphibious band, that are but half denizens 
 of that element: it is fishes of the spinous 
 kind that really deserve the appellation. 
 
 This distinction the generality of mankind 
 will hardly allow ; but whatever be the justice 
 of this preference in favour of the spinous class, 
 it is certain that the cetaceous and cartilagi- 
 nous classes bear no proportion to them in 
 number. Of the spinous classes are already 
 known above four hundred species; so that 
 the numbers of the former are trifling in com- 
 parison, and make not above a fifth part of 
 the finny creation. 
 
 From the great variety in this class, it is 
 obvious how difficult a task it must have been 
 to describe or remember even a part of what 
 it contains. When six hundred different sorts 
 of animals offer themselves to consideration, 
 the mind is bewildered in the multiplicity of 
 objects that all lay some claim to its attention. 
 To obviate this confusion, systems have been 
 devised, which, throwing several fishes that 
 agree in many particulars into one group, and 
 thus uniting all into so many particular bodies, 
 the mind that was incapable of separately con- 
 
 sidering each, is enabled to comprehend all, 
 when thus offered in larger masses to its con- 
 sideration. 
 
 Indeed, of all the beings in animated na- 
 ture, fishes most demand a systematical 
 arrangement. Quadrupeds are but few, and 
 can be all known ; birds, from their seldom 
 varying in their size, can be very tolerably 
 distinguished without system ; but among 
 fishes, which no size can discriminate, where 
 the animal ten inches, and the animal ten feet 
 long, is entirely the same, there must be some 
 other criterion by which they are to be dis- 
 tinguished ; something that gives precision to 
 our ideas of the animal whose history we de- 
 sire to know. , 
 
 Of the real history of fishes, very little is yet 
 known ; but of very many we have full and 
 sufficient accounts, as to their external form. 
 It would be unpardonable, therefore, in a his- 
 tory of these animals, not to give the little we 
 do know ; and, at least, arrange our forces, 
 though we cannot tell their destination. In 
 this art of arrangement. Artedi and Linnaeus 
 have long been conspicuous : they have both 
 taken a view of the animal's form in different 
 lights; and, from the parts which most struck 
 them, have founded their respective systems. 
 
 Artedi, who was foremost, perceiving that 
 some fishes had hard prickly fins, as the pike; 
 that others had soft pliant ones, as the herring; 
 and that others still wanted that particular fin 
 by which the gills are opened and shut, as the 
 eel, made out a system from these varieties. 
 Linnaeus, on the other hand, rejecting this 
 system, which he found liable to too many ex- 
 ceptions, considered the fins, not with regard 
 to their substance, but their position. The 
 
C.f.M'S PLEVRONEfTKS 
 \ flounder! 
 
 \.\ '. in 
 

SPINOUS FISHES. 
 
 647 
 
 ventral fins seem to be the great object of bis 
 system ; he considers them in fishes supplying 
 the same offices as feet in quadrupeds ; and 
 from their total absence, or from their being 
 situated nearer the head or the tail, in differ- 
 ent fishes, he takes the differences of his sys- 
 tem. 
 
 These arrangements, which are totally arbi- 
 trary, and which are rather a method than a 
 science, are always fluctuating ; and the last 
 is generally preferred to that which went be- 
 fore. There has lately appeared, however, a 
 system composed by Mr. Gouan, of Mont- 
 pellier, that deserves applause for more than 
 its novelty. It appears to me the best arrange- 
 ment of this kind that ever was made ; and 
 in it the divisions are not only precisely sys- 
 tematical, but, in some measure, adopted by 
 nature itself. This learned Frenchman has 
 united the systems of Artedi and Linnaeus 
 together ; and, by bringing one to correct the 
 other, has made out a number of tribes, that 
 are marked with the utmost precision. A part 
 of his system, however, we have already 
 gone through, in the cartilaginous, or, as he 
 calls a part of them, the branchiostegous tribe 
 of fishes. In the arrangement of these, I have 
 followed Linnaeus, as the number of them was 
 but small, and his method simple. But in 
 that which is more properly called the spinous 
 class of fishes, I will follow Mr. Gouan's sys- 
 tem ; the terms of which, as well as of all the 
 former systems, require some explanation. I 
 do not love to multiply the technical terms of 
 a science ; but it often happens that names, 
 by being long used, are as necessary to be 
 known as the science itself. 
 
 If we consider the substance of the fin of a 
 fish, we shall find it composed, besides the 
 skin, either of straight, hard, pointed, bony 
 prickles or spines, as in the pike; or of soft, 
 crooked, or forked bones, or cartilages, as in 
 the herring. The fish that have bony prickly 
 fins, are called prickly-famed fish ; the latter, 
 that have soft or cartilaginous fins, are called 
 soft- finned fish. The prickly-finned fish have 
 received the Greek new-formed name of 
 Acanthopterigii ; the soft-finned fish have like- 
 wise their barbarous Greek name of Mala- 
 copterigii. Thus far Artedi has supplied Mr. 
 Gouan with names and divisions. All spinous 
 fish are divided into prickly-finned fish and 
 soft-finned fish. 
 
 Again, Linnaeus has taught him to remark 
 the situation of the fins ; for the ventral or 
 belly-fins, which are those particularly to be 
 remarked, are either wholly wanting, as in the 
 eel, and then the fish is called Apodal, (a 
 Greek word signifying without feet ;) or the 
 ventral-fins are placed more forward than the 
 pectoral-fins, as in the haddock, and then the 
 animal is called a Jugular-fish ; or the ventral- 
 fins are placed directly under the pectoral- 
 fins, as in the father-lasher, and then it is call- 
 ed a Thoracic-fish ; or, lastly, the ventral-fins 
 are placed nearer the tail than the pectoral- 
 fins, as in the minnow, and then it is an Ab- 
 dominal-fish. 
 
 Possessed of these distributions, the French 
 naturalist mixes and unites them into two 
 grand divisions. All the prickly-finned fish 
 make one general division ; all the soft-finned 
 fish another. These first are distinguished 
 from each other, as being either apodal, jugu- 
 lar, thoracic, or abdominal. Thus there are 
 prickly-finned apodal fishes ; prickly-finned 
 jugular fishes ; prickly-finned thoracic fishes ; 
 and prickly-finned abdominal fishes. On the 
 other hand, the soft-finntd fishes fall under a 
 similar distribution, and make the other gene- 
 ral division. Thus there are soft-finned apo- 
 dal fishes, soft-fin i\ed jugular fishes, soft-finned 
 thoracic fishes, and soft-finned abdominal fishes. 
 These general characters are strongly marked, 
 and easily remembered. It only remains, 
 therefore, to divide these into such tribes as 
 are most strongly marked by nature ; and to 
 give the distinct characters of each, to form a 
 complete system with great simplicity. This 
 Mr. Gouan has done ; and the tribes into 
 which he has distributed each of these divisions, 
 exactly amount to fifty. Thus the reader, 
 who can contain in his memory the charac- 
 teristic marks of fifty kinds, will have a toler- 
 able idea of the form of every kind of spinous 
 fish. I say, of the form ; for as to the history 
 and nature of the animal itself, that can only be 
 obtained by experience and information. 
 
 SECT. I. 
 
 PRICKLY-FINNED FISHES. 
 
 Prickly-finned Apodal Fish. 
 
 1 . THE Trichurus. The body of a sword- 
 form ; the head oblong ; the teeth sword- 
 
648 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 like, bearded near the points ; the fore-teeth 
 largest; the fin that covers the gills with 
 seven spines ; the tail ending in a point with 
 out fins ; an inhabitant near the Oriental and 
 American shores; of a silvery white; frequent- 
 ly leaping into the fishermen's boats in 
 China. 
 
 2. The Xiphias, or Sword-fish. The body 
 round; the head long; the upper jaw termi- 
 nating by a long beak, in form of a sword ; 
 the fin that covers the gills with eight spines ; 
 an inhabitant of Europe ; an enemy to the 
 whale. 
 
 3. The Ophidium or Gitihead. The body 
 sword-like ; the head blunt ; the fin covering 
 the gills with seven spines ; the opening of 
 the mouth side ways ; the fins of the back, 
 the anus, and the tail, all joining together ; 
 the most beautiful of all fishes, covered over 
 with green, gold, and silver; it is by sailors 
 called the dolphin, and gives chace to the fly- 
 ing fish. 
 
 Prickly-Jinned Jugular Fish 
 
 4. THE Trachinus or Weever. The body 
 oblong ; the head obtuse ; the bones covering 
 the gills jagged at the bottom; the fins cover- 
 ing the gills with six spines ; the anus near the 
 breast ; buries itself in the sands, leaving only 
 its nose out ; and if trod upon, immediately 
 strikes with the spines that form its dorsal 
 fins, which are venomous and dangerous. 
 
 5. The Uranoscopus. The body wedge- 
 like ; the head almost round, and larger than 
 the body ; the mouth flat ; the eyes on the 
 top of the head ; the fin covering the gills 
 with six spines ; the anus in the middle of 
 the body ; an inhabitant of the Mediterranean 
 Sea. 
 
 6. The Callyonymus or Dragonet. The 
 body almost wedge-like ; the head broad, and 
 larger than the body; the mouth even with 
 the body 5'thi- bony covering of the gills dose 
 shut; the opening to the gills behind the 
 head ; the fin covering the gills with six spines; 
 an inhabitant of the Atlantic Ocean. 
 
 7. The Blennius or Blenny. The body 
 oblong ; the head obtusely bevel ; the teeth a 
 single range ; the fin covering the gills with 
 six spines ; the ventral fins have two small 
 blunt bones in each ; a species of this animal 
 is viviparous. 
 
 Prickly-firmed Thoracic Fish. 
 
 8. THE Gobius or Gudgeon. The body 
 round and oblong ; the head with two little 
 holes between the eyes, one before the other; 
 the fin covering the gills with four spines ; the 
 ventral fins joined together. 
 
 9. The Cepola. The body s\vord-like ; 
 the head blunt ; the mouth flat ; the fin cover- 
 ing the gill with six spines ; the fins distinct ; 
 an inhabitant of the Mediterranean Sea. 
 
 10. The Coryphcena or Razor fish. The 
 body wedge-like ; the head very bevel ; the 
 fin covering the gills with five spines. 
 
 1 1 . The Scomber or Mackarel. The body 
 oblong ; the line running down the side zig- 
 zagged towards the tail ; the head sharp and 
 small ; the fins covering the gills with seven 
 spines; several false fins towards the tail. 
 
 12. The Labrus or Wrasse. The body 
 oval ; the head middling ; the lips doubled 
 inward ; both cutting and grinding teeth ; 
 the covers of the gills scaly ; the fin covering 
 the gills with five spines ; the pectoral fins 
 pointed. 
 
 13. The Sparus or Sea-bream. The body 
 oblong ; the head middling ; the lips not in- 
 verted ; the teeth cutting and grinding ; the 
 cover of the gills scaly ; the fins covering the 
 gills with five rays ; the pectoral fins point- 
 ed. 
 
 14. The Chcetodon or Cat-fish. The body 
 oblong ; the head small ; the teeth slender 
 and bending; the fin covering the gills with 
 three to six spines ; the fins of the back and 
 anus scaly. 
 
 15. The Scicena. The body nearly ellipti- 
 cal ; the head bevel, the covers of the fins 
 scaly; the fin covering the gills with six rays; 
 the fins of the back jagged, and hidden in a 
 furrow in the back. 
 
 16. The Perch. The body oblong; the 
 head bevel ; the covers of the gills scaly and 
 toothed ; the fin covering the gills with seven 
 spines ; the fins in some jagged. 
 
 17. The Scorpeena or Father-lasher. The 
 body oblong ; the head great, with beards ; 
 the covers of the gills armed with pric- 
 kles ; the fin covering the gills with seven 
 spines. 
 
 18. The Mullus or Surmulet. The body 
 slender; the head almost four-cornered; the 
 fin covering the gills with three spines ; some 
 
SPINOUS FISHES. 
 
 649 
 
 of these have beards ; a fish highly prized by 
 tiie Romans, and still considered as a very 
 great delicacy. 
 
 19. The Trigla or the Gurnard. The body 
 slender; the head nearly four-cornered, and 
 covered with a bony coat, the fin covering 
 the gills with seven spines; the pectoral and 
 ventral-fins, strengthened with additional mus- 
 cles and bones, and very large for the ani- 
 mal's size. 
 
 20. The Coitus or Bull-head. The body 
 wedge-like; the head flat and broader than 
 the body; the fin covering the gills' with six 
 spines; the head furnished with p*rickles, 
 knobs, and beards. 
 
 21. The Zeus or Doree. The body oblong; 
 the head large, bevel ; the fin covering the 
 gills with seven rays; the fins jagged; the 
 upper jaw with a loose floating skin depend- 
 ing into the mouth. 
 
 22. The Thrachipterus or Sabre. The body 
 sword like; the head bevel; the fin covering 
 the gills with six spines; the lateral line 
 straight; the scales in a single order; a loose 
 skin in both the jaws. 
 
 23. The Gasterosteus or Stickleback. The 
 body broadest towards the tail ; the head ob- 
 long ; the fin covering the gills with three, six, 
 or seven spines ; prickles starting backward 
 before the back fins and the fins of the^&nus. 
 
 Prickly-finned Abdominal Fish. 
 
 21. THE Silurus or Sheath-fish. The body 
 oblong; the head large; the fin covering the 
 gills from four to fourteen spines ; the leading 
 bones or spines in the back and pectoral fins 
 toothed. 
 
 25. The Mugil or Mullet. The body ob- 
 ,long; the head almost conical; the upper jaw 
 with a furrow, which receives the prominence 
 of the under ; the fin covering the gills with 
 seven rays. 
 
 26. The Polynemus. The body oblong; the 
 head with a beak; the fin covering the gills with 
 from five to seven spines : the bones that move 
 the pectoral fins not articulated to those fins. 
 
 27. The Teuthys. The body almost ellip- 
 tical ; the head abruptly shortened ; the fin 
 covering the gills with five rays ; the teeth in 
 a single row, close, strong, and even. 
 
 28. The Elops or Sea-Serpent. The body 
 
 slender ; the head large ; the fin covering the 
 gills double, with thirty spines, and armed ex- 
 ternally with five bones resembling teeth. 
 
 SECT. II. 
 
 SOFT-FINNED FISHES. 
 
 Soft-firmed Apodal Fish. 
 
 29. THE Muratna or Eel. The body round 
 and slender; the head terminating in a beak; 
 the fin covering the gills with ten rays ; the 
 opening to the gills pipe-fashion, placed near 
 the pectoral fins; the fins of the back, the 
 anus, and the tail, united in one. 
 
 30. The Gymnotus or Carapo. The body 
 broadest on the back, like the blade of a knife; 
 the head small ; the fin covering the gills with 
 five rays ; the back without a fin ; two beards 
 or filaments from the upper lip; an inhabit- 
 ant of Brasil. 
 
 31. The Anarhicas or Wolf-fish. The body 
 roundish and slender; the head large arid 
 blunt; the fore-teeth above and below conical; 
 the grinding teeth and those in the palate 
 round ; the fin covering the gills has seven rays. 
 
 32. The Stromateus. The body oblong; 
 the head small; the teeth moderately sharp; 
 the fin covering the gills with five or six rays. 
 
 33. The Ammodytes or Launce. The body 
 slender and roundish; the head terminated 
 by a beak; the teeth of a hair-like fineness; 
 the fin covering the gills with seven rays. 
 
 Soft-finned Jugular Fish. 
 
 34. THE Lepadogaster. The body wedge- 
 like; the head oblong, forwarder than the 
 body, flattish, the beak resembling that of a 
 duck; the pectoral fins double, two on each 
 side; the ventral fins joined together; a kind 
 of bony breast-plate between the pectoral fins; 
 the fin covering the gills with five rays; the 
 opening to the gills pipe-fashion. 
 
 35. The Gadus or Cod-fish. The body 
 oblong; the head wedge-like; the fin cover- 
 ing the gills with seven rays; several back 
 and anal fins 
 
 Soft-firmed Thoracic Fish. 
 
 36. THE Pleuronectes or Flat-fish. The body 
 
650 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 elliptical; the head small; both eyes on one 
 side of the head; the fin covering the gills 
 with from four to seven rajs. 
 
 37. The Echineis or Sucking-fish, The bo- 
 dy almost wedge-like, moderately round ; the 
 head broader than the body; the fin covering 
 the gills with ten rays ; an oval breast-plate, 
 streaked in form of a ladder, toothed. 
 
 38. The Lipidopus or Garter-fish. The bo- 
 dy sword-like ; the head lengthened out ; the 
 fins covering the gills with seven rays ; three 
 scales only on the whole body ; two in the 
 place of the ventral fins ; the third from that 
 of the anus. 
 
 Soft-Jinned Abdominal Fish. 
 
 39. THE Lortcaria. The body crusted over; 
 the head broad with a beak; no teeth; the 
 fin covering the gills with six rays. 
 
 40. The Atherina or Atherine. The body 
 oblong ; the head of a middling size ; the lips 
 indented ; the fin covering the gills with six 
 rays; the line on the sides resembling a sil- 
 ver band. 
 
 41. The Salmo or Salmon. The body ob- 
 long; the head a little sharp; the fin cover- 
 ing the gills from four to ten rays ; the last 
 fin on the back, without its correspondent 
 muscles, fat. 
 
 42. The Fistularia. The body angular, in 
 form of a spindle ; the head pipe-fashion, with 
 a beak; the fin covering the gills with seven 
 rays; the under jaw covering the upper. 
 
 43. The Esox or Pike. The body round ; 
 the head with a beak ; the under jaw pierced 
 longitudinally with small holes; the fin cover- 
 ing the gills with from seven to twelve rays. 
 
 44. The Argentina OT Argentine. The body 
 a little round and slender; the head with a 
 beak, broader than the body ; the fin covering 
 the gills with eight rays; a spurious back-fin. 
 
 45. The Clupea or Herring. The body a 
 little oblong; the head with a small beak; 
 the fin covering the gills with eight rays. 
 
 46. The Exocetus or Flying-fish. The body 
 oblong; the head almost three-cornered; the 
 fin covering the gills with seven rays; the 
 pectoral fins placed high, and as long as the 
 whole body; the back-fin at the extremity of 
 the back. 
 
 47. TheCy/mmtsor Carp. The body elon- 
 
 gated, almost round ; the head with a small 
 beak; the hinder part of the bone covering 
 the gills, marked with a crescent; the fin co- 
 vering the gills with three rays. 
 
 48. The Cobitis or Loach. The body ob- 
 long; almost equally broad throughout; the 
 head small, a little elongated ; the eyes in the 
 hinder part of the head; the fin covering the 
 gills from four to six rays; the covers of the 
 gills closed below. 
 
 49. The Amia or Bonito. The body round 
 and slender; the head, forehead, and breast, 
 without skin; the fin covering the gills with 
 twelve rays ; two beards from the nose. 
 
 50. The Mormyrus. The body oblong ; the 
 head elongated ; the fin covering the gills 
 with a single ray; the opening to the gills is 
 linear, and has no bone covering them. 
 
 
 
 Such is the system of Mr Gouan; by re- 
 ducing to which any fish that offers, we caa 
 know its rank, its affinities, and partly its ana- 
 tomy, all which make a considerable part in 
 its natural history. But, to show the use of 
 this system still more apparently, suppose I 
 meet with a fish, the name to me unknown, 
 of which I desire to know something more. 
 The way is first to see whether it be a car- 
 tilaginous fish, which may be known by its 
 wanting fins to open and shut the gills, which 
 the cartilaginous kinds are wholly without. 
 If I find that it has them, then it is a spinous 
 fish; and in order to know its kind, I examine 
 its fins, whether they be prickly or soft : I find 
 them soft ; it is therefore to be ranked among 
 the soft-finned fishes. I then examine its ven- 
 tral or belly fins, and finding (hat the fish has 
 them, I look for their situation, and find they 
 lie nearer to the tail than the pectoral fins. 
 By this I find the animal to be a soft-finned 
 abdominal fish. Then, to know which of the 
 kinds of these fishes it is, I examine its figure 
 and the shape of its head : I find the body 
 rather oblong; the head with a small beak; 
 the lower jaw like a saw; the fin covering 
 the gills with eight rays. This animal must 
 therefore be the herring, or one of that fami- 
 ly, such as the pilchard, the sprat, the shiid, 
 or the anchovy. To give another instance: 
 Upon examining the fins of a fish to me un- 
 known, I find them prickly; I then look for 
 the situation of the ventral fins, I find them 
 
SPINOUS FISHES. 
 
 651 
 
 entirely wanting ; this then must be a prickly- 
 finiied apodal fish. Of this kind there are 
 but three : and by comparing the fish with 
 the description, I find it either of the trichurus 
 
 kind, the sword-fish, or the gilthead. Upon 
 examining also its internal structure, I shall 
 find a very great similitude between my fish 
 and that placed at the head of the family. 
 
 CHAPTER CXLIX. 
 
 OF SPINOUS FISHES IN GENERAL. 
 
 HAVING given a method by which Spinous 
 Fishes may be distinguished from each other, 
 the history of each in particular might natu- 
 rally be expected to follow ; but such a dis- 
 tinct account of each would be very disgust- 
 ing, from the unavoidable uniformity of every 
 description. The history of any one of this 
 class very much resembles that of all the rest: 
 they breath air and water through the gills ; 
 they live by rapine, each devouring such ani- 
 mals as its mouth is capable of admitting; 
 and they propagate, not by bringing forth 
 their young alive, as in the cetaceous tribes, 
 nor by distinct eggs, as in the. generality of the 
 cartilaginous tribes, but by spawn, or peas, as 
 they are generally called, which thev produce 
 by hundreds of thousands. These are the 
 leading marks that run through their whole 
 history, and which have so much swelled 
 books with tiresome repetition. 
 
 It will be sufficient therefore to draw this 
 numerous class into one point of view, and to 
 mark how they differ from the former classes; 
 and what they possess peculiarly striking, so 
 as to distinguish them from each other. The 
 first object that presents itself, and that by 
 which they differ from all others, are the 
 bones. These, when examined but slightly, 
 appear to be entirely solid ; yet, when viewed 
 more closely, every bone will be found hollow, 
 and filled with a substance less rancid and 
 oily than marrow. These bones are very 
 numerous, and pointed ; and, as in quadru 
 pels, are the props or stays to which the 
 muscles are fixed which move the different 
 parts of the body. 
 
 The number of bones in all spinous fishes 
 of the same kind, is alwuvs the same. It is a 
 vulgar way of speaking M sny, that fishes are 
 at some, seasons more bony than at others ; 
 
 wo- 53 & 36. 
 
 but this scarcely requires contradiction. It is 
 true indeed, that fish are at some seasons much 
 fatter than at others ; so that the quantity of 
 the flesh being diminished, and that of the 
 bones remaining the same, they appear to in- 
 crease in number, as they actually bear a 
 greater proportion. 
 
 All fish of the same kind, as was said, have 
 the same number of bones: the skeleton of a 
 fish, however irregularly the bones may fall 
 in our way at table, has its members very 
 regularly disposed ; and every bone has its 
 fixed place, with as much precision as we find 
 in the orders of a regular fabric. But then 
 spinous fish differ in the number of bones ac- 
 cording to the species: for some have a greater 
 number of fins by which they move in the 
 water. The number in each is always in 
 proportion to the number and size of these 
 fins : for every fish has a regular apparatus of 
 bones and muscles, by which the fins are 
 moved ; and all those fish, where they are 
 numerous or large, must, of consequence, be 
 considerably bony. Indeed, in the larger fish, 
 the quantify of flesh is so much, and the bones 
 themselves are so large, that they are easily 
 seen and separated ; but in the smaller kinds 
 with many fins, the bones are as numerous as 
 in the great ; yet being so very minute, they 
 lurk almost in every part of the flesh, and are 
 dangerous as well as troublesome to be eaten. 
 In a word, those fish which are large, fat, and 
 have few fins, are found to be the least bony ; 
 those which are small, lean, and have many 
 fins, are the most bony of all others. Thus, 
 for instance, a roach appears more bony than 
 a carp, because it is leaner and smaller ; and 
 if is actually more bony than an eel, because 
 it has a greater number of fins. 
 
 As the spinous fish partake less of the quad- 
 41 
 
652 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 ruped in their formation than any others, so 
 they can bear to Jive out of their own element 
 a shorter time. In general, when taken out 
 of the water they testify their change by 
 panting more violently and at closer intervals, 
 the thin air not furnishing their gills the proper 
 play ; and in a few minutes they expire. 
 Some indeed are more vivacious in air than 
 others ; the eel will live several hours out of 
 water ; and the carp has been known to be 
 fattened in a damp cellar. The method is by 
 placing it in a net well wrapped up in wet 
 moss, the mouth only out, and then hung up 
 in a vault. The fish is fed with white bread 
 and milk ; and the net now and then plunged 
 into the water. The animal, thus managed, 
 has been known not only to live for a fort- 
 night, but to grow exceedingly fat, and of a 
 superior flavour. From this it would seem 
 that the want of moisture in the gills is the 
 chief cause of the death of these animals ; and 
 could that be supplied, their lives might be pro- ; 
 longed in the air, almost as well as in their 
 own element. 
 
 Yet it is impossible to account for the dif- 
 ferent operations of the same element, upon 
 animals that, to appearance, have the same 
 conformation. To some fishes, bred in the 
 sea, fresh water is immediate destruction : on 
 the other hand, some fishes, that live in our 
 lakes and ponds, cannot bear the salt water. 
 Whence this difference can aris^, is not easily 
 to be accounted for. The saline quality of 
 the water cannot properly be given as the 
 cause ; since no fishes imbibe any of the sea's 
 saltness with their food, or in respiration. 
 The flesh of all fishes is equally fresh, both in 
 the river, and in the saltest depths of the 
 ocean ; the salt of the element in which they 
 live no way mixing with their constitution. 
 Whence then is it that animals will live only 
 there, and will quickly expire when carried 
 into fresh water ? It may probably arise from 
 the sup j rior weight of the sea-water ; as from 
 the great quantity of salt dissolved in its com- 
 position, it is much heavier than fresh water, 
 so if is probable it li^s with greater force upon 
 the organs of respiration, and gives them their 
 proper and necessary play : on the other 
 hand, (hose fish which are used only to fresh 
 water, cannot bear the weight of the saline 
 flui I, and expire in a manner suffocated in the 
 grossness of the strange element. 
 
 But though there are some tribes that live 
 only in the sea, and others only in fresh 
 water, yet there are some whose organs are 
 equally adapted to either element ; and that 
 spend a part of their season in one, and a part 
 in the other. Thus the salmon, the shad, the 
 smelt, and the flounder, annually quit their 
 native ocean, and come up our rivers to de- 
 posite their spawn. This seems the most im- 
 portant business of their lives ; and there is 
 no danger which they will not encounter, even 
 to the surmounting precipices, to find a proper 
 place for the deposition of their future offspring. 
 The salmon, upon these occasions, is seen to 
 ascend rivers five hundred miles from the sea; 
 and to brave not only the danger of various 
 enemies, but also to spring up cataracts as 
 high as a house. As soon as they come to 
 the bottom of the torrent, they seem disap- 
 pointed to meet the obstruction, and swim 
 some paces back : they then lake a view of 
 the danger that lies before them, survey it 
 motionless for some minutes, advance, and 
 again retreat ; till at last summoning up all 
 their force, 'hty take a leap from the bottom, 
 their body straight, mid strongly in motion ; 
 and thus most frequently clear every obstruc- 
 tion. It sometimes happens, however, that 
 they want strength to make the leap; and 
 then, in our fisheries, they are taken in their 
 descent. But this is one of the smallest dan- 
 gers that attend these adventuring animals in 
 their progress : numberless are the methods 
 of taking then) ; as well by the hook, as by 
 nets, baskets, and other inventions, which it 
 is not our business here to describe. Their 
 capture makes, in several countries, a great 
 article of commerce; and being cured in 
 several different manners, either by salting, 
 pickling, or drying, they are sent to all the 
 markets of Europe. 
 
 As these mount up the rivers to deposite 
 their spawn, others, particulary the eel, de- 
 scend the fresh water stream, as Redi assures 
 us, to bring forth their young in the sea. 
 About the month of August, annually, these 
 animals take the opportunity of the most ob- 
 scure nights, and when the rivers are flooded 
 by accidental rains seek the ocean. When 
 they have reached the sea, and produced their 
 young, for they are viviparous, they again 
 ascend the stream, at different times, as oppor- 
 tunity offers, or as the season is favourable or 
 
SPINOUS FISHES. 
 
 653 
 
 tempestuous. Thfir passage begins usually 
 about the end of January, and continues till 
 towards t-he end of May, when they are taken 
 in the river Arno by millions, and so small 
 th-tt-a thousand of them goes to a pound. 
 There is nothing more certain than that they 
 descend in our own rivers after floods, in 
 great abundance, and are thus caught in nets, 
 to very great advantage. They are possessed 
 also of a power of climbing over any obstacle ; 
 for, by applying their glutinous' and slimy 
 bodies to the surface of the object they desire 
 to surmount, they can thus creep up locks, 
 weirs, and every thing that Would prevent 
 their ascending the current of the stream. 
 
 But the length of the voyage performed by 
 these fishes, is sport, if compared to what is 
 annually under-taken by some tribes, that 
 constantly reside in the ocean. These are 
 known to take a course of three or four thou- 
 sand miles in .a season, serving for prey to 
 whales, sharks, and the numerous flocks of 
 water-fowl, that regularly wait to intercept 
 their progress. These may be called fish of 
 passage, and bear a strong an >logy to birds of 
 passage, both from their social disposition, and 
 the immensity of their numbers. Of this 
 kind are the cod, the haddock, the whiting, 
 the mackarel, the tunny, the herring, and the 
 pilchard. Other fish live in our vicinity, and 
 reside on our coasts all the year round ; or 
 keep in the depths of the ocean, and are but 
 seldom seen : but these, at stated seasons, 
 visit their accustomed haunts with regular 
 certainty, generally returning the same week 
 in the succeeding year, and often the same 
 day. 
 
 The stated returns, and the regular progress 
 of these fish of passage, is one of the most ex- 
 traordinary circumstances in all the history of 
 nature. What it is that impels them to such 
 distant voyages ; what directs their passage ; 
 and what supports them by the way ; and 
 what sometimes prompts them to quit, for 
 several seasons, one shore for another, and 
 then return to their accustomed harbour : are 
 questions that curiosity may ask, but philoso- 
 phy can hardly resolve. We must dismiss 
 inquiry, satisfied with the certainty of the 
 facts. 
 
 The cod seems to be the foremost of this 
 wandering tribe, and is only found in our 
 northern part of the world. This animal's 
 
 chief place of resort is on the banks of New- 
 foundland, and the other sand-banks that lie 
 off Cape Breton. That extensive flat, seems 
 to be no other than the broad top of a sea- 
 mountain, extending for above five hundred 
 miles long, and surrounded with a deeper 
 sea. Hither the cod annually repair in num- 
 bers beyond the power of calculation, to feed 
 on the quantity of worms that are to be found 
 there in the sandy bottom. Here they are 
 taken in such quantities, that they supply all 
 Europe with a considerable share of provision. 
 The English have stages erected all along the 
 shore for salting and drying them ; and the 
 fishermen, who take them with the hook and 
 line, which is their method, draw them in as 
 fast as they can throw out. This immense 
 capture, however, makes but a very small 
 diminution, when compared to their numbers; 
 and when their provision there is exhausted, 
 or the season for propagation returns, they go 
 off to the polar seas, where they deposite their 
 roes in full security. From thence want of 
 food forces them, as soon as the first more 
 southern seas are open, to repair southward 
 for subsistence. Nor is this fish an unfrequent 
 visitant upon our own shores : but the returns 
 are not so regular, nor does the capture bear 
 any proportion to that at Newfoundland. 
 
 The haddock, the whiting, and the macka- 
 rel, are thought by some to be driven upon 
 our coast rather by their fears than their ap- 
 petites ; and it is to the pursuit of the larger 
 fishes we owe their welcome visits. It is 
 much more probable, that they come for that 
 food which is found in more plenty near the 
 shore than farther out at sea. One thing is 
 remarkable, that their migrations seem to be 
 regularly conducted. The grand shoal of 
 haddocks that comes periodically on the 
 Yorkshire coasts, appeared there in a body 
 on the tenth of December, 1766; and exactly 
 on the same day in the following year. This 
 shoal extended from the shore near three 
 miles in breadth, and in length for more than 
 forty. The limits of a shoal are precisely 
 known; for if the fishermen put down their 
 lines at the distance of more than three miles 
 from shore, they catch nothing but dog-fish : 
 a proof (hat the haddock is not there. 
 
 But of all migrating fish, the herring and 
 the pilchard take the most adventurous voy- 
 ages. Herrings are found in the greatest 
 
 4Z 
 
C54 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 abundance in the highest northern latitudes. 
 In those inaccessible seas, that are covered 
 with ice fora great part of the year, the her- 
 ring and pilchard find a quiet and sure retreat 
 from all their numerous enemies : thither nei- 
 ther man, nor their still more destructive ene- 
 my, the fin-fish, or the cachalot, dares to pur- 
 sue them. The quantity of insect food which 
 those seas supply, is very great; whence, in 
 that remote situation, defended by the icy 
 rigour of the climate, they live at ease, and 
 multiply beyond expression. From this most 
 desirable retreat, Anderson supposes, they 
 would never depart, but that their numbers 
 render it necessary for them to migrate ; and, 
 as with bees from a hive, they are compelled 
 to seek for other retreats. 
 
 For this reason, the great colony is seen 
 to set out from the icy sea about the middle 
 of winter; composed of numbers, that if all 
 the men in the world were to be loaded with 
 herrings, they would not carry the thousandth 
 part away. But they no sooner leave their 
 retreats, but millions of enemies appear to 
 thin their squadrons. The fin-fish and the 
 cachalot swallow barrels at a yawn ; the por- 
 poise, the grampus, the shark, and the whole 
 numerous tribe of dog-fish, find them an easy 
 prey, and desist from making war upon each 
 other: but. still more, the unnumbered flocks 
 of sea-fowl, that chiefly inhabit near the pole, 
 watch the outset of their dangerous migration, 
 and spread extensive ruin. 
 
 in this exigence the defenceless emigrants 
 find no other safety but by crowding closer 
 together, and leaving to the outmost bands 
 the danger of being the first devoured; thus, 
 like sheep when frighted, that always run to- 
 gether in a body, and each finding some pro- 
 tection in being but one of many that are 
 equally liable to invasion, they are seen to 
 separate into shoals, one body of which moves 
 to the west, and pours down along the coasts 
 of America, as far south as Carolina, and but 
 seldom farther. In Chesapeak Bay, the an- 
 nual inundation of these fish is so great, that 
 they cover the shores in such quantities as to 
 become a nuisance. Those that hold more 
 to the east, and come down towards Europe, 
 endeavour to save themselves from their mvr- 
 ciless pursuers, by approaching the first shore 
 *hey can find ; and that which first offers in 
 
 their descent, is the coast of Iceland, in the 
 beginning of March. Upon their arrival on 
 that coast, their phalanx, which has already 
 suffered considerable diminutions, is, never- 
 theless, of amazing extent, depth, and close- 
 ness, covering an extent of shore as large as 
 the island itself. The whole water seems 
 alive ; and is seen so black with them to a 
 great distance, that the number seems inex- 
 haustible. There the porpoise and the shark 
 continue their depredations; and the birds 
 devour what quantities they please. By these 
 enemies the herrings are cooped up into so 
 close a body, that a shovel, or any hollow 
 vessel, put into the water, takes them up with- 
 out farther trouble. 
 
 That body which comes upon our coasts, 
 begins to appear off the Shetland Isles in 
 April. These are the forerunners of the 
 grand shoal which descends in June; while 
 its arrival is easily announced, by the num- 
 ber of its greedy attendants, the gannet, the 
 gull, the shark, and the porpoise. When the 
 main body is arrived, its breadth and depth 
 is such as to alter the very appearance of the 
 ocean. It i? divided into distinct columns, of 
 five or six miles in length, and three or four 
 broad ; while the water before them curls up, 
 as if forced out of its bed. Sometimes they 
 sink for the space of ten or fifteen minutes, 
 then rise again to the surface; and, in bright 
 weather, reflect a variety of splendid colours, 
 like afield bespangled wilh purple, gold, and 
 azure. The fishermen are ready prepared 
 to give them a proper reception ; and, by 
 nets made for the occasion, they take some- 
 times above two thousand barrels at a single 
 draught. 
 
 From the Shetland Isles, another body of 
 this great army, where it divides, goes off to 
 the western coasts of Ireland, where they 
 meet with a second necessity of dividing. The 
 one takes to the Atlantic, where it is soon 
 lost in that extensive ocean ; the other passes 
 into the Irish sea, and furnishes a very con- 
 siderable capture to the natives. 
 
 In this manner, the herrings, expelled from 
 their native seas, seek those bays and shores 
 where they can find food, and the best defence 
 against their unmerciful pursuers of the deep. 
 In general, the most inhabited shores are the 
 places where the larger animals of the deep 
 
SPINOUS FISHES. 
 
 655 
 
 are least fond of pursuing; and these are cho- 
 sen by the herrings as an asylum from great 
 dangers. Thus, along the coasts of Norway, 
 the German shores, and the northern shores 
 of France, these animals are found punctual 
 in their visitations. In these different places 
 they produce their young; which, when come 
 to some degree of maturity, attend the gene- 
 ral motions. After the destruction of such 
 numbers, the quantity that attempts to return 
 is but small; and Anderson doubts whether 
 they ever return. 
 
 Such is the account given of the migration 
 of these fishes, by one who, of all others, was 
 best acquainted with their history; and yet 
 many doubts arise, in every part of the mi- 
 gration. The most obvious which has been 
 made is, that though such numbers perish in 
 their descent from the north, yet, in compari- 
 son to those that survive, (he account is tri- 
 fling: and it is supposed, that of those taken 
 by man, the proportion is not one to a million. 
 Their regularly leaving the shore also at a 
 stated lime, would imply that they are not 
 in these visits under the impulse of necessity. 
 In fact, there seems one circumstance that 
 shows these animals are governed by a choice 
 with respect to the shores they pitch upon; 
 and not blindly drove from one shore to ano- 
 ther. What I mean is, their fixing upon some 
 shores for several seasons, or, indeed, for se- 
 veral ages together; and, after having regu- 
 larly visited them every year, then caprici- 
 ously forsaking them, never more to return. 
 The first great bank for herrings was along 
 the shores of Norway. Before the year 1584, 
 the number of ships from all parts of Europe 
 tiiat resorted to that shore, exceeded some 
 thousands. The quantity of herrings that 
 wen? then assembled there, was such, that a 
 man who should put a spear in the water, as 
 Olaus Magnus ass-erts. would see it stand on 
 end, being prevented from falling. But soon 
 after that period, these animals were seen to 
 desert the Norway shores, and took up along 
 the German coast, where the Hanse-Towns 
 drove a very great trade by their capture and 
 sale; but for above a century, the herrings 
 have, in a great measure, forsaken them ; and 
 their greatest colonies are seen in the British 
 Channel, and upon the Irish shores. It is not 
 easy to assign a cause for this seemingly ca- 
 
 pricious desertion: whether the number of 
 their finny enemies, increasing along the 
 northern coasts, may have terrified the her- 
 ring tribe from their former places of resort; 
 or, whether the quantity of food being greater 
 in the British Channel, may not allure them 
 thither; is not easy to determine. 
 
 The pilchard, which is a fish differing little 
 from the herring, makes the coast of Corn- 
 wall its place of principal resort. Their ar- 
 rival on that coast is soon proclaimed by their 
 attendants the birds, and the larger fishes; 
 and the whole country prepare to take the 
 advantage of this treasure, providentially 
 thrown before them. The natives sometimes 
 enclose a bay of several miles extent with 
 their nets called saines. To direct them in 
 their operations, there were some years ago 
 (but I believe they are discontinued) several 
 men placed on eminences near the shore, call- 
 ed huers, who, with brooms in their hands, 
 gave signals where the nets were to be ex- 
 lended, and where the shoals of fishes lay: 
 this they perceived by the colour of the w a- 
 ter, which assumed a tincture from the shoals 
 beneath. By these means, they sometimes 
 take twelve or fifteen hundred barrels of pil- 
 chards at a draught; and they place them in 
 heaps on the shore. It often happens, that 
 the quantity caught exceeds the salt or the 
 utensils for curing them ; and they then are 
 carried off to serve for the purposes of ma- 
 nure. This fishery employs not only great 
 numbers of men at sea, training them to naval 
 affairs, but also numbers of women and chil- 
 dren at land, in salting and curing the fish ; 
 in making boats, nets, ropes, aiid casks, lor 
 the purposes of taking or fitting them tor sale. 
 The poor are fed with the superfluity of the 
 capture; the land is manured with theoflids; 
 the merchant finds the gain of commission, 
 and honest commerce; the fisherman a com- 
 fortable subsistence from his toil. "Ships," 
 says Dr. Borlase, "are often freighted hither 
 with salt, and into foreign countries with the 
 fish, carrying off at the same time a part of 
 our tin. The usual produce of the number 
 of hogsheads exported for ten years, from 
 1747 to 1756 inclusive, amounted to near 
 thirty thousand hogsheads each year; every 
 hogshead has amounted, upon an average, to 
 the price of one pound thirteen shillings and 
 
656 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 threepence. Thusthe money paid for pilchards 
 exported, has annually amounted to nenr fifty 
 thousand pounds." 
 
 Whence these infinite numbers arc derived, 
 still remains obscure ; but it will increase our 
 wonder to be told, that so small a fish as the 
 stickleback, which is seldom above two inches 
 long, and that one would think could easily 
 find support in any water, is yet obliged to 
 colonize, and leave its native fens in search of 
 new habitations. Once every seventh or 
 eighth year, amazing shoals of these appear 
 in the river Welland, near Spalding, and come 
 up the stream, forming one great column. 
 They are supposed to be multitudes collected 
 in some of the fens, till overcharged with 
 numbers, they are periodically obliged to mi- 
 grate. An idea may be had of their numbers, 
 when we are informed, that a man, employed 
 by a farmer to take them, for the purpose of 
 manuring his grounds, has got, for a consider- 
 able time, four shillings a day, by selling them 
 at a halfpenny a bushel ! 
 
 Thus we see the amazing propagation of 
 fishes along our own coasts and rivers ; but 
 their numbers bear no proportion to the vast 
 quantities found among the islands of the 
 Indian ocean. The inhabitants of these coun- 
 tries are not under the necessity even of pro- 
 viding instruments for fishing ; it is but going 
 down to the shore, and there the fish are 
 found in great numbers in the plashes that 
 still continue to have water in them. In some 
 of these places the quantity is so great, that 
 they are left in shoals on those swamps, dried 
 up by the sun, and their putrefaction contri- 
 butes to render the country unhealthful. 
 
 This power of increasing in these animals, 
 exceeds our ideas, as it would, in a very short 
 time, outstrip all calculation. A single her- 
 ring, if suffered to multiply unmolested and 
 undiminished for twenty years, would show a 
 progeny greater in bulk than ten such globes 
 as that we live upon. But happily the 
 balance of nature is exactly preserved ; and 
 their consumption is equal to their fecundity. 
 For this reason we are to consider the por- 
 poise, the shdrk, or the cod-fish, not in the 
 light of plunderers and rivals, but of benefac- 
 tors to mankind. Without their assistance, 
 the sea would soon become overcharged with 
 the burden of its own productions; and that 
 element, which at present distributes health 
 
 and plenty to the shore, would but load it 
 with putrefaction. 
 
 In the propagation of all fish, some degree 
 of warmth seems absolutely necessary, not 
 only to their preservation, but to the advance- 
 ment of their posteriiy. Their spawn is 
 always deposited in those places where the 
 sun-beams may reach them, either at the bot- 
 tom of shallow shores, or floating on the sur- 
 face in deeper waters. A small degree of 
 heat answers all the purposes of incubation, 
 and the animal issues from the egg in its state 
 of perfect formation, never to undergo any 
 succeeding change. 
 
 Yet, still 1 have some doubts whether most 
 fish come from the egg con pletely formed. 
 We know that in all the frog tribe, and many 
 of the lizard kind, they are produced from the 
 egg in an imperfect form. The tadpole, or 
 young frog, with its enormous head and slen- 
 der tail, are well known ; a species of the 
 lizard also, which is excluded from the sh< 11 
 without legs, only acquires them by degn PS, 
 and not till after some time does it put off its 
 serpent form. It is probable that some kinds 
 of fish in like manner suffer a change ; and 
 though it be too inconsiderable to strike the 
 fisherman or the inattentive spectator, yet it 
 makes a very material difference to the natu- 
 ralist, and would perhaps disarrange his most 
 favourite systems. A slight alteration in the 
 fins or bones that cover the gills would over- 
 turn the whole fabric of the most applauded 
 ichthyologist ; and yet, as I observed, it is 
 most probable that these minute alterations 
 often take place. 
 
 As a proof of this, during the month of July, 
 there appear near Greenwich innumerable 
 shoals of small fishes, which are known to the 
 Londoners by the name of White Bait. It is 
 universally agreed that they are the young of 
 some fish ; they are never seen but at this 
 time of the year, and never found to have any 
 roe, a circumstance that proves their not 
 bring come to maturity. The quantity is 
 amazing ; and the fish that produces them in 
 such numbers must be in plenty, though it is 
 not yet known what that fish is, as they cor- 
 respond with no other species whatever. 
 They most resemble the smelt in form ; and 
 yet they want a fin, which that animal is 
 never without. They cannot be the bleak, 
 as they are never found in other rivers where 
 
SPINOUS FISHES. 
 
 657 
 
 the bleak breed in great abundance. It is 
 most probable, therefore, that they are the 
 young of some animal not yet come to their 
 perfect form, and therefore reducible to no 
 present system. 
 
 The time that spinous fishes continue in 
 the pea is in proportion to the size of the 
 kind. It is a rule that chiefly holds through 
 nature, that the larger the animals are, the 
 longer they continue before exclusion. This 
 I say holds generally through all nature, 
 though it is not easy to assign a cause for so 
 well known a truth. It may probably be, 
 that as all large bodies take a longer time to 
 grow hot than small ones, so the larger the 
 egg. the longer influence of vital warmth it 
 requires to reach through all its recesses, and 
 to unfold the dormant springs that wait to be 
 put into motion. 
 
 The manner in which the eggs of fishes are 
 impregnated is wholly unknown. All that 
 obviously offers is, that in ponds the sexes 
 are often seen together among the long grass 
 at the edge of the water; that there they 
 seem to struggle ; and that during this time 
 they are in a state of suffering: they grow 
 thin; they lose their appetite, and their flesh 
 becomes flabby ; the scales of some grow 
 'rough, and they lose their lustre. On the 
 contrary, when the time of coupling is over, 
 their appetite returns; they reassume their 
 natural agility, and their scales become bril- 
 liant and beautiful. 
 
 Although the usual way with spinous fishes 
 is to produce by spawn ; yet there are some, 
 such as the eel and the blenny, that are 
 known to bring forth their young alive. 
 Bowlker, who has written a treatise upon 
 fishing, seems to determine the question rela- 
 tive to the viviparous production of eels, 
 upon the authority of one or two credible 
 witnesses. An eel, opened in the presence 
 of several persons of credit, was found to 
 have an infi.iite number of little creatures, 
 closely wrapped up together in a lump, about 
 the size of a nutmeg, which being put into a 
 
 * The Eel, it is known, is viviparous. It produces its 
 numerous young during the decline of summer : these are 
 very small at their first exclusion. This fish often wan- 
 ders about meadows in search of snails and other food ; 
 and, according to Dr. Anderson, young eels will often 
 
 basin of water, soon separated, and swam 
 about : yet still, whether these may not have 
 been worms generated in the animal's body, 
 remains a doubt; for there are scarcely any 
 fishes that are not infested with worms in 
 that manner.* 
 
 With respect to the growth of fishes, it is 
 observed, that among carps, particularly the 
 first year, they grow to about the size of the 
 leaf of a willow-tree ; at two years, they are 
 about four inches long. They grow but one 
 inch more the third season, which is five 
 inches. Those of four years old are about 
 six inches ; and seven after the fifth. From 
 that to eight years old they are found to be 
 large in proportion to the goodness of the 
 pond, from eight to twelve inches. With re- 
 gard to sea-fish, the fishermen assure us, that 
 a fish must be six years old before it is fit to 
 be served up to table. They instance it in 
 the growth of a mackarel. They assure us 
 that those of a year old are as large as one's 
 finger; that those of two years, are about 
 twice that length; at three and four years, 
 they are that small kind of mackarel that 
 have neither milts nor roes ; and between five 
 and six, they are those full-grown fish that 
 are served up to our tables. In the same 
 manner, with regard to flat fishes, they tell 
 us, that the turbot and barbel at one year 
 are about the size of a crown-piece ; the 
 second year as large as the palm of one's 
 hand ; and at the fifth and sixth year, they 
 are large enough to be served up to table. 
 Thus it appears, that fish are a considerable 
 time in coining to their full growth, and that 
 they are a long time destroyed before it 
 comes to their turn to be destroyers. 1 * 
 
 All fish live upon each other, in some state 
 of their existence. Those with the largest 
 mouths, attack and devour the larger kinds; 
 those whose mouths are less, lie in wait for 
 the smaller fry ; and even these chiefly sub- 
 sist upon spawn. Of those which live in the 
 ocean, of the spinous kinds, the Dorado is 
 the most voracious. This is chiefly found in 
 
 migrate across land, in great shoals, from one part of a 
 river to another. 
 
 b Traite dus Peches, par Monsieur Duhamel. Sect. 3. 
 p. 10. 
 
658 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 the tropical climates ; and is at once the most 
 active and the most beautiful of the finny re- 
 gion. It is about six feet long; the back all 
 over enamelled with spots of a bluish green 
 and silver; the tail and fins of a gold colour; 
 and all have a brilliancy of tint, that nothing 
 but nature's pencil can attain to: the eyes 
 are placed on each side of the head, large and 
 beautiful, surrounded with circles of shining 
 gold. In the seas where they are found, these 
 fish are always in motion, and play round 
 ships in full sail, with ease and security: for 
 ever either pursuing or pursued, they are 
 seen continually in a state of warfare; either 
 defending themselves against the shark, or 
 darting after the smaller fishes. Of all others, 
 the Flying-fish most abounds in these seas ; 
 and as it is a small animal, seldom growing 
 above the size of a herring, it is chiefly sought 
 by the dorado. Nature has furnished each 
 respectively with the powers of pursuit and 
 evasion. The dorado being above six feet 
 long, yet not thicker than a salmon, and fur- 
 nished with a full complement of fins, cut its 
 way through the water with amazing rapidi- 
 ty : on the other hand, the flying-fish is fur- 
 nished with two pair of fins longer than the 
 body, and these also moved by a stronger 
 set of muscles than any other. This equali- 
 ty of power seems to furnish one of the most 
 entertaining spectacles those seas can exhibit. 
 The efforts to seize on the one side, and the 
 arts of escaping on the other, are perfectly 
 amusing. The dorado is seen, upon this oc- 
 casion, darting after its prey, which will not 
 leave the water, while it has the advantage 
 of swimming, in the beginning of the chase. 
 But, like a hunted hare, being tired at last, 
 it then has recourse to another expedient for 
 safety by flight. The long fins, which began 
 to grow useless in the water, are now exert- 
 ed in a different manner and different direc- 
 tion to that in which they were employed in 
 swimming: by this means, the timid little ani- 
 m il rises from the water, and flutters over its 
 surface, for two or three hundred yards, till 
 the muscles employed in moving the wings 
 are enfeebled by that particular manner of 
 exertion. By this time, however, they have 
 acquired a fresh power of renewing their ef- 
 forts in the water, and the animal is capable 
 of proceeding with some velocity by swim- 
 
 ming: still, however, the active enemy keepg 
 it in view, and drives it again from the deep; 
 till, at length, the poor little creature is seen 
 to dart to shorter distances, to flutter with 
 greater effort, and to drop down at last into 
 the mouth of its fierce pursuer. But not the 
 dorado alone, all animated nature seems com- 
 bined against this little fish, which seems pos- 
 sessed of double powers, only to be subject 
 to greater dangers. For though it should es- 
 cape from its enemies of the deep, yet the 
 tropic bird and the albatross are for ever up- 
 on the wing to seize it. Thus pursued in 
 either element, it sometimes seeks refuge from 
 a new enemy; and it is not unfrequent for 
 whole shoals of them to fall on shipboard, 
 where they furnish man with an object of 
 useless curiosity. 
 
 The warfare in fresh water is not carried 
 on with such destructive activity; nor are 
 the inhabitants of that element so numerous. 
 It would seem that there is something more 
 favourable to the fecundity of fishes in the 
 ocean, than in an element less impregnated 
 with salt. It has been the opinion of some 
 philosophers, that all fish are natives of that 
 great reservoir; and that only colonies have 
 been sent up rivers, either through accident, 
 or the necessity of procuring subsistence. 
 They have been led to this opinion by the 
 superior fecundity of sea-fish, which breed 
 twenty to one; as well as by their superiority 
 in strength and size, over those of the same 
 kind found in lakes and rivers. This is a 
 matter too remotely speculative to be worth 
 pursuing; but certain it is, that, in fresh wa- 
 ter, fishes seem to abate much of their cou- 
 rage and rapacity; pursue each other with 
 less violence, and seem to be less powerfully 
 actuated by all their appetites. The gree- 
 diness with which sea-fish devour the bait is 
 prodigious, if compared with the manner they 
 take it in fresh water. The lines of such fish- 
 ermen as go off to sea, are coarse, thick, and 
 clumsy, compared to what are used by those 
 who fish at land. Their baits are seldom 
 more than a piece of a fish, or the flesh of some 
 quadruped, stuck on the hook in a bungling 
 manner; and scarcely any art is employed 
 to conceal the deception. But it is other- 
 wise in fresh water: the lines must often be 
 drawn to a hair like fineness ; they must be 
 
SPINOUS FISHES. 
 
 659 
 
 tinctured of the peculiar colour of the stream; 
 the bait must be formed with the nicest art, 
 and even, if possible, to exceed the perfection 
 of nature : yel still the fishes approach it with 
 diffidence, and often swim round it with dis- 
 dain. The cod, on the banks of Newfound- 
 land, the instant the hook, which is only bait- 
 ed with the guts of the animal last taken, is 
 dropped into the water, darts to it at once, 
 and the fishermen have but to pull up as fast 
 as they throw down. But it is otherwise with 
 those who fish in fresh waters, they must wait 
 whole hours in fruitless expectation: and the 
 patience of a fisherman is proverbial among us. 
 
 This comparative neglect of food, which is 
 found in all the tribes of fresh-water fishes, 
 renders them less turbulent and less destruc 
 tive among each other. Of all these the pike 
 is the most active and voracious; and our 
 poets, whose business it is to observe the sur- 
 face of nature, have called it the tyrant of the 
 watery plain. In fact, in proportion to its 
 strength and celerity, the pike does some mis- 
 chief; but what are its efforts compared to 
 those of the cachalot or the shark! they re- 
 semble the petty depredations of a robber, 
 put in competition with the ravages of a con- 
 queror! However, the pike will attack every 
 fish less than itself; and it is sometimes seen 
 choaked, by attempting to swallow such as 
 are too large a morsel. It is immaterial of 
 what species the animal it pursues appears 
 to be, whether of another or its own, all are 
 indiscriminately devoured ; so that every fish 
 owes its safety to its minuteness, its celerity, 
 or its courage: nor does the pike confine it- 
 self to feed on fish and frogs; it will draw 
 down the water-rat and the young ducks, as 
 they are swimming about. Gesner tells us 
 of a mule that stooped to drink in the water, 
 when a famished pike, that was near, seized 
 it by the nose, nor was it disengaged till the 
 beast flung it on shore. So great is their ra- 
 pacity, that they will contend with the otter 
 for his prey, and even endeavour to force it 
 from him. For this reason it is dreaded by 
 all other fish; and the small ones show the 
 same uneasiness and detestation at the pre- 
 sence of their tyrant, as the little birds do at 
 the sight of a ha\vk or an owl. When the 
 pike lies asleep near the surface, as is fre- 
 quently the case, the lesser fish are often ob- 
 
 NO. fc & 56. 
 
 served to swim around it in vast numbers, with 
 a mixture of caution and terror. 
 
 The other tribes of fresh-water fish are 
 much inferior to this animal in courage and 
 rapacity : they chiefly subsist upon worms 
 and insects, pursuing them at the bottom, or 
 jumping after them to the surface of the wa- 
 ter. In winter also, their appetite seems en- 
 tirely to forsake them; at least they con- 
 tinue in so torpid a state, that few baits will 
 tempt them to their destruction. At that sea- 
 son, they forsake the shallow waters, and seek 
 those deep holes to be found in every river, 
 where they continue for days together, with- 
 out ever appearing to move. The cold seems 
 to affect them ; for at that time they lie close 
 to the bottom, where the water is most warm, 
 and seldom venture out, except the day be 
 peculiarly fine, and the shallows at the edges 
 of the stream become tepified by the power- 
 ful rays of the sun. Indeed, I have been as- 
 sured, that some fishes may be rendered so 
 torpid by the cold, in the northern rivers, as 
 to be frozen up in the great masses of ice, in 
 which they continue for several months toge- 
 ther, seemingly without life or sensation, the 
 prisoners of congelation, and waiting the ap- 
 proach of a warmer sun, to restore them at 
 once to life and liberty. Thus that cheerful 
 luminary not only distributes health and ve- 
 getation to the productions of the earth, but 
 is ardently sought even by the gelid inhabi- 
 tants of the water. 
 
 As fish are enemies one to another, so each 
 species is infested with worms of different 
 kinds, peculiar to itself. The great fish 
 abound with them; and the little ones are 
 not entirely free. These troublesome vermin 
 lodge themselves either in the jaws and the 
 intestines internally, or near the fins without. 
 When fish are healthy and fat, they are not 
 much annoyed by them; but in winter, when 
 they are lean or sickly, they then suffer very 
 much. 
 
 Nor does the reputed longevity of this class 
 secure them from their peculiar disorders. 
 They are not only affected by too much cold, 
 but there are frequently certain dispositions 
 of the element in which they reside unfavour- 
 able to their health and propagation. Some 
 ponds they will not breed in, however artful- 
 ly disposed for supplying them with fresh 
 5A 
 
660 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 recruits of water, as well as provision. In 
 some seasons they are found to feel epidemic 
 disorders, and are seen dead by the water 
 side, without any apparent cause : yet still 
 they are animals of all others the most viva- 
 cious, and they often live and subsist upon 
 such substances as are poisonous to the more 
 perfect classes of animated nature. 
 
 It is not easy to determine whether the 
 poisonous qualities which many of them are 
 found to possess, either when they wound our 
 bodies externally with their spines, or when 
 they are unwarily eaten at our tables, arises 
 from this cause. That numbers of fishes in- 
 flict poisonous wounds, in the opinion of 
 many, cannot be doubted. The concurrent 
 testimony of mankind, they think sufficient 
 to contradict any reasonings upon this head, 
 taken from anatomical inspection. The great 
 pain that is felt from the sting given by the 
 back fin of the weaver, bears no proportion 
 to the smallness of the instrument that inflicts 
 the wound. How the poison is preserved, 
 or how it is conveyed by the animal, it is not 
 in our power to perceive ; but its actual ex- 
 istence has been often attested by painful ex- 
 perience. In this instance we must decline 
 conjecture, satisfied with history. 
 
 The fact of their being poisonous when 
 eaten, is equally notorious ; and the cause 
 equally inscrutable. My poor worthy friend 
 Dr. Grainger, who resided for many years at 
 St. Christopher's, assured me, that of the fish 
 caught, of the same kind, at one end of the 
 island, some were the best and most whole- 
 some in the world ; while others taken at a 
 different end were always dangerous, and 
 most commonly fatal. We have a paper in 
 the Philosophical Transactions, giving an 
 account of the poisonous qualities of those 
 found at New Providence, one of the Bahama 
 islands. The author assures us, that the 
 greatest part of the fish of that dreary coast 
 are all of a deadly nature : their smallest 
 effects being to bring on a terrible pain in 
 the joints, which, if terminating favourably, 
 leaves the patient without any appetite for 
 several days after. It is not those of the 
 most deformed figure, or the most frightful to 
 look at, that are alone to be dreaded; all 
 kinds, at different times, are alike dangerous; 
 and the same species which has this day 
 
 served for nourishment, is the next, if tried, 
 found to be fatal ! 
 
 This noxious quality has given rise to much 
 speculation, and many conjectures. Some 
 have supposed it to arise from the fishes on 
 these shores eating of the manchineel apple, 
 a deadly vegetable poison, that sometimes 
 grows pendent over the sea : but the quantity 
 of those trees growing in this manner, bears 
 no proportion to the extensive infection of 
 the fish. Labat has ascribed it to their eat- 
 ing the galley fish, which is itself most 
 potently poisonous : but this only removes 
 our wonder a little farther back; for it may 
 be asked, with as just a cause for curiosity, 
 how comes the galley fish itself to procure its 
 noxious qualities ? Others have ascribed the 
 poison of these fishes to their feeding upon 
 copperas beds : but I do not know of any 
 copper mines found in America. In short, as 
 we cannot describe the alembic by which the 
 rattlesnake distils its malignity, nor the pro- 
 cess by which the scorpion, that lives among 
 roses, converts their sweets to venom, so we 
 cannot discover the manner by which fishes 
 become thus dangerous ; and it is well for us 
 of Europe that we can thus wonder in secu- 
 rity. It is certain that, with us, if fishes, such 
 as carp or tench, acquire any disagreeable 
 flavour from the lakes in which they have 
 been bred, this can be removed, by their be- 
 ing kept some time in finer and better water: 
 there they soon clear away all those disagree- 
 able qualities their flesh had contracted, and 
 become as dejicate as if they had been 
 always fed in the most cleanly manner. But 
 this expedient is with us rather the precau- 
 tion of luxury, than the effect of fear: we 
 have nothing to dread from the noxious 
 qualities of our fish; for all the animals our 
 waters furnish are wholesome. 
 
 Happy England ! where the sea furnishes 
 an abundant and luxurious repast, and the 
 fresh waters an innocent and harmless pas- 
 time; where the angler, in cheerful solitude, 
 strolls by the edge of the stream, and fears 
 neither the coiled snake, nor the lurking 
 crocodile ; where he can retire at night, with 
 his few trouts (to borrow the pretty descrip- 
 tion of old Walton) to some friendly cottage, 
 where the landlady is good, and the daugh- 
 ter innocent and beautiful ; where the room 
 
SPINOUS FISHES. 
 
 661 
 
 is cleanly, wuh lavender in the sheets, and 
 twenty ballads stuck about the wall ! There 
 he can enjoy the company of a talkative 
 brother sportsman, have his trouts dressed 
 for supper, tell tales, sing old tunes, or make 
 
 a catch ! There he can talk of the wonders 
 of nature with learned admiration, or find 
 some harmless sport to content him, and pass 
 away a little time, without offence to God, or 
 injury to man! 
 
 5 A* 
 
662 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 OF CRUSTACEOUS AND TESTACEOUS FISHES. 
 
 e 
 
 CHAPTER CL. 
 
 THE DIVISION OF SHELL FISH. 
 
 IN describing the inhabitants of the water, 
 a class of animals occur, that mankind, from 
 the place of their residence, have been con- 
 tent to call fish ; but that naturalists, from 
 their formation, have justly agreed to be un- 
 worthy of the name. Indeed, the affinity 
 many of this kind bear to the insect tribe, 
 may very well plead for the historian who 
 ranks them rather as insects. However, the 
 common language of a country must not be 
 slightly invaded ; the names of things may 
 remain, if the philosopher be careful to give 
 precision to our ideas of them. 
 
 There are two classes of animals, there- 
 fore, inhabiting the water, which commonly 
 receive the name of fishes, entirely different 
 from those we have been describing, and 
 also very distinct from each other. These 
 are divided by naturalists into Crustaceous 
 and Testaceous animals : both, totally unlike 
 fishes to appearance, seem to invert the 
 order of nature; and as those have their 
 bones on the inside, and their muscles hung 
 upon them for the purposes of life and motion, 
 these, on the contrary, have all their bony 
 parts on the outside, and all their muscles 
 within. Not to talk mysteriously all who 
 have seen a lobster or an oyster, perceive 
 that the shell in these bears a strong analogy 
 to the bones of other animals; and that, by 
 these shells, the animal is sustained and de- 
 fended. 
 
 Crustaceous fish, such as the crab and the 
 lobster, have a shell not quite of a stony 
 hardness, but rather resembling a firm crust, 
 
 and in some measure capable of yielding. 
 Testaceous fishes, such as the oyster or 
 cockle, are furnished with a shell of a stony 
 hardness; very brittle, and incapable of 
 yielding. Of the crustaceous kinds are the 
 Lobster, the Crab, and the Tortoise : of the 
 testaceous, that numerous tribe of Oysters, 
 Muscles. Cockles, and Sea-Snails, which offer 
 with infinite variety. 
 
 The Crustaceous tribe seems to hold the 
 middle rank between fishes, properly so call- 
 ed, and those snail-like animals that receive 
 the name of testaceous fishes. Their muscles 
 are strong and firm, as- in the former; their 
 shell is self-produced, as among the latter. 
 They have motion, and hunt for food with 
 great avidity, like the former. They are in- 
 capable of swimming, but creep along the 
 bottom, like the latter: in short, they form 
 the link that unites these two classes, that 
 seem so very opposite in their natures. 
 
 Of testaceous fishes we will speak here- 
 after. As to animals of the Crustaceous kind, 
 they are very numerous, their figure offers 
 an hundred varieties: but as to their nature, 
 they are obviously divided into two very 
 distinct kinds, differing in their habits and 
 their conformation. The chief of one kind 
 is the Lobster; the chief of the other, the 
 Tortoise. Under the Lobster we rank the 
 Prawn, the Craw-Fish, the Shrimp, the Sea- 
 Crab, the Land-Crab, and all their varieties. 
 Under the Sea-Tortoise, the Turtle, the 
 Hawksbill-Turtle, the Land-Tortoise, and 
 their numerous varieties. 
 
CRUSTACEOUS FISHES. 
 
 G63 
 
 CHAPTER CLI. 
 
 CRUSTACEOUS ANIMALS OF THE LOBSTER KIND. 
 
 HOWEVER different in figure the lobster 
 and the crab may seem, their manners and 
 conformation are nearly the same. With all 
 the voracious appetites of fishes, they are 
 condemned to lead an insect life at the bot- 
 tom of the water ; and, though pressed by 
 continual hunger, they are often obliged to 
 w (it till accident brings them their prey. 
 Though without any warmth in their bodies, 
 or even without red blood circulating through 
 their veins, they are animals wonderfully 
 voracious. Whatever they seize upon that 
 has life, is sure to perish, though never so 
 well defended ; they even devour each other: 
 and, to increase our surprise si ill more, they 
 may, in some measure, be said to eat them- 
 selves ; as they change their shell and their 
 stomach every year, and their old stomach is 
 generally the first morsel that serves to glut 
 the new. 
 
 The lobster is an animal of so extraordinary 
 a form, that those who first see it are apt to 
 mistake the head for the tail; but it is soon 
 discovered that the animal moves with its 
 claws foremost ; and that the part which 
 plays within itself by joints, like a coat of 
 armour, is the tail. The two great claws 
 are the lobsters instruments of provision and 
 defence ; these, by opening like a pair of 
 nippers, have great strength and take a firm 
 hold ; they are usually notched like a saw, 
 which still more increases their tenacity. 
 Besides these powerful instruments, which 
 may be considered as arms, the lobster has 
 eight legs, four on each side, and these, with 
 the tail, serve to give the animal its progres- 
 sive and sideling motion. Between the two 
 claws is the animal's head, very small, and 
 furnished with eyes that seem like two black 
 horny specks on each side; and these it has 
 a power of advancing out of the socket, and 
 drawing in at pleasure. The mouth, like 
 that of insects, opens the long way of the 
 body, not crossways, as with man, and the 
 
 higher race of animals. It is furnished with 
 two teeth for the comminution of its food ; 
 but, as these are not sufficient, it has three 
 more in the stomach ; one on each side, and 
 the other below. Between the two teeth 
 there is a fleshy substance, in the shape of a 
 tongue. The intestines consist of one long 
 bowel, which reaches from the mouth to the 
 vent, but what this animal differs in from all 
 others, is, that the spinal-marrow is in the 
 breast-bone. It is furnished with two long 
 feelers or horns, that issue on each side of 
 the head, that seem to correct the dimness 
 of its sight, and apprize the animal of its dan- 
 ger, or of its prey. The tail, or that jointed 
 instrument at the other end, is the grand in- 
 strument of motion : and with this it can raise 
 itself in the water. Under this we usually 
 see lodged the spawn in great abundance ; 
 every pea adhering to the next by a very fine 
 filament, which is scarcely perceivable. Every 
 lobster is a hermaphrodite, and is supposed 
 to be self-impregnated ! The ovary, or place 
 where the spawn is first produced, is back- 
 wards towards the tail, where a fed sub. 
 stance is always found, and which is nothing 
 but a cluster of peas, that are yet too small 
 for exclusion. From this receptacle there go 
 two canals, that open on each side at the 
 jointures of the shell, at the belly; and 
 through these passages the peas descend to 
 be excluded, and placed under the tail, 
 where the animal preserves them from dan- 
 ger for some time, until they come to maturity; 
 when being furnished with limbs and motion, 
 they drop off into the water. 
 
 When the young lobsters leave the parent, 
 they immediately seek for refuge in the 
 smallest clefts of rocks, and in such like 
 crevices at the bottom of the sea, where the 
 entrance is but small, and the opening can 
 be easily defended. There, without seeming 
 to take any food, they grow larger ui a few 
 weeks time, from the mere accidental sub- 
 
664 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 stances which the water washes to their re- 
 treats. By this time, also, they acquire a hard 
 firm shell, which furnishes them with both 
 'offensive and defensive armour. They then 
 begin to issue from their fortresses, and boldly 
 creep along the bottom, in hopes of meeting 
 with more diminutive plunder. The spawn 
 offish, the smaller animals of their own kind, 
 but chiefly the worms that keep at the bottom 
 of the sea, supply them with plenty. They 
 keep in this manner close among the rocks, 
 busily employed in scratching up the sand 
 with their claws for worms, or surprising such 
 heedless animals as fall within their grasp : 
 thus they have little to apprehend, except 
 from each other ; for in them, as among fishes, 
 the large are the most formidable of all other 
 enemies to the small. 
 
 But this life of abundance and security is 
 soon to have a most dangerous interruption ; 
 for the body of the lobster still continuing to 
 increase, while its shell remains unalterably 
 the same, the animal becomes too large for its 
 habitation, and imprisoned within the crust 
 that has naturally gathered round it, there 
 comes on a necessity of getting free. The 
 young of this kind, therefore, that grow faster, 
 as I am assured by the fishermen, change their 
 shell oftener than the old, who come to their 
 full growth, and who remain in the same shell 
 often for two years together. In general, 
 however, all these animals change their shell 
 once a year ; and this is not only a most pain- 
 ful operation, but also subjects them to every 
 danger. Their moulting season is generally 
 about the beginning of summer, at which time 
 their food is in plenty, and their strength and 
 vigour in the highest perfection. But soon 
 all their activity ceases ; they are seen for- 
 saking the open parts of the deep, and seeking 
 some retired situation among the rocks, or 
 some outlet where they may remain in safety 
 from the attacks of their various enemies. 
 For some days before their change the animal 
 discontinues its usual voraciousness ; it is no 
 longer seen laboriously harrowing up the sand 
 at the bottom, or fighting with others of its 
 kind, or hunting its prey ; it lies torpid and 
 motionless, as if in anxious expectation of the 
 approaching change. Just before casting its 
 shell, it throws itself upon its back, strikes its 
 claws against each other, and every limb 
 seems to tremble ; its feelers are agitated, and 
 
 the whole body is in violent motion : it then 
 swells itself in an unusual manner, and at last 
 the shell is seen beginning to divide at its 
 junctures; particularly, it opens at the junc- 
 tures, of the belly, where, like a pair of jumps, 
 it was before but seemingly united. It also 
 seems turned inside out, and its stomach conies 
 away with its shell. After this, by the same 
 operation, it disengages itself of the claws, 
 which burst at the joints ; the animal, with a 
 tremulous motion, casting them oft' as a man 
 would kick off a boot that was too big for 
 him. 
 
 Thus, in a short time, this wonderful crea- 
 ture finds itself at liberty ; but in so weak and 
 enfeebled a state, that it continues for several 
 hours motionless. Indeed, so violent and 
 painful is the operation, that many of them 
 die under it ; and those who survive are .in 
 such a weakly state for some time, that they 
 neither take food nor venture from their re- 
 treats. Immediately after this change, they 
 have not only the softness but the timidity of 
 a worm. Every animal of the deep is then a 
 powerful enemy, which they can neither 
 escape nor oppose ; and this, in fact, is the 
 time when the dog-fish, the cod, and the ray, 
 devour them by hundreds. But this state of 
 defenceless imbecility continues for a very 
 short time : the animal, in less than two days, 
 is seen to have the skin that covered its body 
 grown almost as hard as before ; its appetite 
 is seen to increase ; and, strange to behold ! 
 the first object that tempts its gluttony, is its 
 own stomach, which it so lately was disen- 
 gaged from. This it devours with great 
 eagerness ; and sometime after ats even its 
 former shell. In about forty- eight hours, in 
 proportion to the animal's health and strength, 
 the new shell is perfectly formed, and as hard 
 as that which was but just thrown aside. 
 
 To contribute to the speedy growth of the 
 shell it is supposed by some, that the lobster is 
 supplied with a very extraordinary concretion 
 within its body, that is converted into the 
 shelly substance. It is a chalky substance, 
 found in the lower part of the stomach of all 
 lobsters improperly called crab's eyes, and 
 sold under that title in the shops. About the 
 time the lobster quits its shrll, the teeth in its 
 stomach break these stones to pieces, and the 
 fluids contained therein dissolve them. This 
 fluid, which still remains in the new stomach, 
 
CRUSTACEOUS FISHES. 
 
 665 
 
 
 is thought to be replete with a petrifying 
 quality, proper for forming a new shell : 
 however, the concreting power that first form- 
 ed these, shows a sufficient power in the ani- 
 mal to produce also the shell ; and it is going 
 but a short way in the causes of things when 
 we attempt to explain one wonder by another. 
 
 When the lobster is completely equipped in 
 its new shell, it then appears how much it has 
 grown in the space of a very lew days ; the 
 dimensions of the old shell being compared 
 with those of the new, it will be found that 
 the creature is increased above a third in its 
 size ; and, like a boy that has outgrown his 
 clothes, it seems wonderful how the deserted 
 shell was able to contain so great an animal 
 as entirely fills up the new. 
 
 The creature thus furnished, not only with 
 a complete covering, but also a greater share 
 of strength and courage, ventures more boldly 
 among the animals at the bottom ; and not a 
 week passes, that, in its combats, it does not 
 suffer some mutilation. A joint, or even a 
 whole claw, is sometimes snapped off in these 
 encounters. At certain seasons of the year 
 these animals never meet each other without 
 an engagement. In these, to come off with 
 the loss of a leg, or even a claw, is considered 
 as no great calamity ; the victor carries off the 
 spoil to feast upon at leisure, while the other 
 retires from the defeat to wait for a thorough 
 repair. This repair it is not long in procuring. 
 From the place where the joint of the claw 
 was cut away, is seen in a most surprising 
 manner to bourgeon out the beginning of a 
 new claw. This, if observed, at first, is small 
 and tender, but grows, in the space of three 
 weeks, to be almost as large and as powerful 
 as the old one. I say almost as large, for it 
 never arrives to the full size ; and this is the 
 reason we generally find the claws of lobsters 
 of unequal magnitude. 
 
 After what has been thus described, let us 
 pause a little, to reflect on the wonders this 
 extraordinary creature offers to our imagina- 
 tion ! An animal without bones on the inside, 
 yet furnished with a stomach capable of digest- 
 ing the hardest substances, the shells of muscles, 
 of oysters, and even its own ; an animal gain- 
 ing a new stomach and a new shell at stated 
 intervals ! Furnished with the instruments of 
 generation double in both sexes ; and yet with 
 an apparent incapacity of uniting ! Without 
 
 red blood circulating through the body, and 
 yet apparently vigorous and active ! But, 
 most strange of all, an animal endowed with 
 a vital principle that furnishes out such limbs 
 as have been cut away, and keeps continually 
 combating it, though in constant repair to re- 
 new its engagements ! These are but a small 
 prvrt of the wonders of the deep, where nature 
 sports without a spectator ! 
 
 Of this extraordinary yet well known ani- 
 mal there are many varieties, with some dif- 
 ferences in the claws, but little in the habits 
 or conformation. It is found above three feet 
 long ; and if we may admit the shrimp and 
 the prawn into the class, though unfurnished 
 with claws, it is seen not above an inch. 
 These all live in the water, and can bear its 
 absence for but a few hours. The shell is 
 black when taken out of the water, but turns 
 red by boiling. The most common way of 
 taking the lobster is in a basket, or pot, as the 
 fishermen call it, made of wickerwork, in 
 which they put the bait, and then throw it to 
 the bottom of the sea, in six or ten fathoms 
 water. The lobsters creep into this for the 
 sake of the bait, but are not able to get out 
 again. The river craw-fish differs little from 
 the lobster, but that the one will live only in 
 fresh water, and the other will thrive only in 
 the sea. 
 
 The crab is an animal found equally in 
 fresh and salt water ; as well upon land as in 
 the ocean. In rhape it differs very much from 
 the lobster, but entirely resembles it in habits 
 and conformation. The tail in this animal is 
 not so apparent as in the former, being that 
 broad flap that seems to cover a part of the 
 belly, and when lifted discovers the peas or 
 spawn, situated there in great abundance. It 
 resembles the lobster in the number of its 
 claws, which are two, and its legs, which are 
 eight, four on either side. Like the lobster, 
 it is a bold voracious animal ; and such an 
 enmity do crabs bear each other, that those 
 who carry them for sale to market, often tie 
 their claws with strings to prevent their fight- 
 ing and maiming themselves by the way. In 
 short, it resembles the lobster in every thing 
 but the amazing bulk of its body compared to 
 the size of its head, and the length of its intes- 
 tines, which have many convolutions. 
 
 As the crab, however, is found upon land as 
 well as in water, the peculiarity of its situa- 
 
666 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 tion produces a difference in its habitudes, 
 which it is proper to describe. The Land 
 Crab is found in some of the warmer regions of 
 Europe, and in great abundance in all the tro- 
 pical climates in Africa and America. They 
 are of various kinds, and endued with various 
 properties; some being healthful, delicious, 
 and nourishing food ; others, poisonous or 
 malignant to the last degree ; some are not 
 above half an inch broad, others are found a 
 foot over; some are of a dirty brown, and 
 others beautifully mottled. That animal call- 
 ed the Violet Crab of the Carribbee Island, 
 is the most noted both for the shape, the de- 
 licacy of its flesh, and the singularity of its 
 manners. The violet crab somewhat resem- 
 bles two hands cut through the middle and 
 joined together; for each side looks like four 
 fingers, and the two nippers or claws resem- 
 ble the thumbs. All the rest of the body is 
 covered with a shell as large as a man's hand 
 and bunched in the middle, on the fore-part 
 of which there are two long eyes of the size 
 of a grain of barley, as transparent as crystal, 
 and as hard as horn. A little below these is 
 the mouth, covered with a sort of barbs, un- 
 der which there are two broad sharp teeth 
 as white as snow. They are not placed, as 
 in other animals, crossways, but in the oppo- 
 site direction, not much unlike the blades of 
 a pair of scissors. With these teeth they can 
 easily cut leaves, fruits, and rotten wood, 
 which is their usual food. But their princi- 
 pal instruments for cutting and seizing their 
 food is their nippers, which catch such a hold, 
 that the animal loses the limb sooner than its 
 grasp, and is often seen scampering off, ha- 
 ving left its claws still holding fast upon the 
 enemy. The faithful claw seems to perform 
 its duty, and keeps for above a minute fasten- 
 ed upon the finger while the crab is making 
 off!" In fict, it loses no great matter by leav- 
 ing a leg or an arm, for they soon grow again, 
 and the animal is found as perfect as be- 
 fore. 
 
 This, however, is the least surprising part 
 of this creature's history; and what I am go- 
 ing to relate, were it not as well known and 
 as confidently confirmed as any other circum- 
 stance in natural history, it might well stag- 
 
 Brown's Jamaica, p. 423. 
 
 ger our belief. These animals live not only 
 in a kind of orderly society in their retreats 
 in the mountains, but regularly once a year 
 march down to the sea-side in a body of some 
 millions at a time. As they multiply in great 
 numbers, they choose the months of April or 
 May to begin their expedition ; and then they 
 sally out by thousands from the stumps of hol- 
 low trees, from the clefts of the rocks, and 
 from the holes which they dig for themselves 
 under the surface of the earth. At that time 
 the whole ground is covered with this band 
 of adventurers ; there is no setting down one's 
 foot without treading upon them. b The sea 
 is their place of destination, and to that they 
 direct their march with right-lined precision. 
 No geometrician could send them to their de- 
 stined station by a shorter course; they nei- 
 ther turn to the right nor left, whatever ob- 
 stacles intervene ; and even if they meet with 
 a house, they will attempt to scale the walls 
 to keep the unbroken tenor of their way. But 
 though this be the general order of their 
 route, they upon other occasions are compel- 
 led to conform to the face of the country ; and 
 if it be intersected by rivers, they are then 
 seen to wind along the course of the stream. 
 The procession sets forward from the moun- 
 tains with the regularity of an army, under the 
 guidance of an experienced commander. 
 They are commonly divided into three bat- 
 talions; of which, the first consists of the 
 strongest and boldest males, that, like pio- 
 neers, march forward to clear the route and 
 face the greatest dangers. These are often 
 obliged to halt for want of rain, and go into 
 the most convenient encampment till the wea- 
 ther changes. The main body of the army 
 is composed of females, which never leave the 
 mountains till the rain is set in for some time, 
 and then descend in regular battalia, being 
 formed into columns of fifty paces broad and 
 three miles deep, and so close that they almost 
 cover the ground. Three or four days after 
 this the rear-guard follows; a straggling, un- 
 disciplined tribe, consisting of males and fe- 
 males, but neither so robust nor so numerous 
 as the former. The night is their chief time 
 of proceeding; but if it rains by day, they do 
 not fail to profit by the occasion ; and they 
 
 b Lebat. Voyage aux Isle Francoises, vol. ii. p. 2^1. 
 
CRUSTACEOUS FISHES. 
 
 Continue to move forward in their slow uni- 
 form manner. When the sun shines and is 
 hot upon the surface of the ground, they then 
 make an universal halt, and wait till the cool 
 of the evening. When they are terrified, they 
 march back in a confused disorderly manner, 
 holding up their nippers, with which they 
 sometimes tear off' a piece of the skin, and 
 then leave the weapon where they indicted 
 the wound. They even try to intimidate their 
 enemies; for they often clatter their nippers 
 together, as if it were to threaten those that 
 come to disturb them. But though they thus 
 strive to be formidable to man, they are much 
 more so to each other; for they are possess- 
 ed of one most unsocial property, which is, 
 that if any of them by accident is maimed in 
 such a manner as to be incapable of proceed- 
 ing, the rest fall upon and devour it on the 
 spot, and then pursue their journey. 
 
 When after a fatiguing march and escaping 
 a thousand dangers (for they are sometimes 
 three months in getting to the shore) they 
 have arrived at their destined port, they pre- 
 pare to cast their spawn. The peas are as 
 yet within their bodies, and not excluded, as 
 is usual in animals of this kind, under the tail ; 
 for the creature waits for the benefit of the 
 sea-water to help the delivery. For this pur- 
 pose, the crab has no sooner reached the 
 shore, than it eagerly goes to the edge of the 
 "water, and lets the waves wash over its body 
 two or three times. This seems only a pre- 
 paration for bringing the hpawn to maturity ; 
 for without farther delay they withdraw to 
 seek a lodging upon laiid: in the meantime, 
 the spawn grows larger, is excluded out of 
 the body, and sticks to the barbs under the 
 i'ap, or more properly the tail. This bunch 
 is seen as big as a hen's egg, and exactly re- 
 sembling the roes of herrings. In this state 
 of pregnancy, they once more seek the shore 
 for the last time, and shaking off their spawn 
 intojhe water, leave accident to bring it to 
 maturity. At this time whole shoals of hun- 
 gry fish are at the shore in expectation of this 
 annual supply; the sea to a great distance 
 seems black with them; and about two-thirds 
 of the crabs-eggs are immediately devoured 
 by these rapacious invaders. The eggs that 
 escape are hatched under the sand ; and soon 
 after millions at a time of these little crabs 
 
 are seen quitting the shore, and slowly tra- 
 velling up to the mountains. 
 
 The old ones, however, are not so active 
 to return; they hare become so feeble and 
 lean, that they can hardly creep along, and 
 the flesh at that time changes its colour. The 
 most of them, therefore, are obliged to con- 
 tinue in the flat parts of the country till they 
 recover, making holes in the earth, which 
 they cover at the mouth with leaves and dirt. 
 so that no air may enter. There they throw 
 off* their old shells, which they leave as it 
 were quite whole, the place where they open- 
 ed on the belly being unseen. At that time 
 they.are quite naked, and almost without mo- 
 tion for six days together, when they become 
 so fat as to be delicious food. They have 
 then under their stomachs four large white 
 stones, which gradually decrease in propor- 
 tion as the shell hardens, and when they come 
 to perfection are not to be found. It is at 
 that time that the animal is seen slowly making 
 its way back; and all this is most commonly 
 performed 'in the space of six weeks. 
 
 This animal when possessed of its retreats 
 in the mountains is impregnable ; for only sub- 
 sisting upon vegetables, it seldom ventures 
 out; and its habitation being in the most in- 
 accessible places, it remains for a great part 
 of the season in perfect security. It is only 
 when impelled by the desire of bringing forth 
 its young, and when compelled to descend into 
 the flat country, that it is taken. At that 
 time the natives wait for its descent in eager 
 expectation, and destroy thousands; but dis- 
 regarding the bodies, they only seek for that 
 small spawn which lies on each side of the 
 stomach within the shell ; of about the thick- 
 ness of a man's thumb. They are much more 
 valuable upon their return after they have 
 cast their shell ; for being covered with a skin 
 resembling soft parchment, almost every part 
 except the stomach, may be eaten. They 
 are taken in their holes by feeling for them 
 in the ground with an instrument: they are 
 sought, after by night, when on their journey, 
 willi flambeaux. The instant the animal per- 
 ceives itself attacked, it throws itself on its 
 back, and with its claws pinches most terri- 
 bly whatever it happens to fasten on. But 
 the dexterous crab-catcher takes them by the 
 hinder legs in such a manner, that its nippers 
 5 B 
 
A HISTORY OF 
 
 cannot touch inni, aim tuns he tnrows it into 
 his bag. Sometimes also they are caught 
 when they take refuge at the bottom of holes, 
 in rocks by the sea-side, by clapping a slick 
 at the mouth of the hole, uliich prevents their 
 getting out ; and then soon after the tide 
 coming, enters the hole, and the animal is 
 found, upon its retiring, drowned in its retreat. 
 
 These crabs are of considerable advantage 
 to the natives ; and the slaves very often feed 
 entirely upon them. In Jamaica, where they 
 are found in great plenty, they are considered 
 as one of the greatest delicacies of the place. 
 Yet still, the eating of them is attended with 
 some danger, for even of this kind many are 
 found poisonous, being fed, as it is thought, 
 upon the machined apple; and whenever they 
 are found under that noxious plant, they are 
 always rejected with caution. It is thus with 
 almost all the productions of those luxurious 
 climates ; however tempting they may be to 
 the appetite, they but too often are found de- 
 structive ; and scarce a delicacy among them 
 that does not carry its own alloy. 
 
 The descent of these creatures for such im- 
 portant purposes, deserves or admiration ; 
 but there is an animal of the lobster kind that 
 annually descends from its mountains in like 
 manner, and for purposes still more important 
 and various. Its descent is not only to pro- 
 duce an offspring, but to provide itself a cover- 
 ing ; not only to secure a family, but to fur- 
 nish a house. The animal I mean is the 
 soldier-crab, which has some similitude to the 
 lobster, if divested of its shell. It is usually 
 about four inches long, has no shell behind, 
 but is covered down to the tail with a rough 
 skin, terminating in a point. It is, however, 
 armed with strong hard nippers before, like 
 the lobster ; and one of them is as thick as a 
 man's thumb, and pinches most powerfully. 
 It is, as 1 said, without a shell to any part ex- 
 cept its nippers ; but what nature has denied 
 this animal, it takes care to supply by art ; 
 and taking possession of the deserted shell of 
 some other animal, it resides in it, till, by 
 growing too large for its habitation, it is under 
 a necessity of change. It is a native of the 
 West India Islands ; and, like the former, it is 
 seen every year descending from the moun- 
 tains to the sea-shore, to deposite its spawn, 
 and to provide itself with a new shell. This 
 is a most bustling time with it, having so many 
 
 things to do ; and, in fnct, very busy it appears. 
 It is very probable that its first care is to pro- 
 vide for its offspring before it attends to its 
 own wants : and it is thought, from the num- 
 ber of little shells which it is seen examining, 
 that it deposites its spaw,n in them, which thus 
 is placed in perfect security till the time of ex- 
 clusion. 
 
 However this be, the soldier is in the end 
 by no means unmindful of itself. It is still seen 
 in its old shell, which it appears to have con 
 siflt rably outgrown ; for a part of the naked 
 body is seen at the mouth of it, which the 
 habitation is too small to hide. A shell, there- 
 fore, is to be found large enough to cover the 
 whole body ; and yet not so large as to be 
 unmanageable and unwieldy. To answer 
 both these ends it is no easy matter, nor the 
 attainment of a slight inquiry. The little 
 soldier is seen busily parading the shore along 
 that line of pebbles and shells that is formed by 
 the extremest wave ; still, however, dragging 
 its old incommodious habitation at its tail, un- 
 willing to part with one shell, even though a 
 troublesome appendage, till it can find another 
 more convenient. It is seen stopping at one 
 shell, turning it and passing it by, going on to 
 another, contemplating that for a while, and 
 then slipping its tail from its old habitation, to 
 try on the new. This also is found to be in- 
 convenient ; and it quickly returns to its old 
 shell again. In this manner it frequently 
 changes, till at last it finds one light, roomy, 
 and commodious ; to this it adheres, though 
 the shell be sometimes so large as to hide the 
 body of the animal, claws and all.' 
 
 Yet it is not till after many trials, but many 
 combats also, that the soldier is thus com- 
 pletely equipped ; for there is often a contest 
 between two of them for some well-looking 
 favourite shell for which they are rivals. 
 They both endeavour to take possession ; 
 they strike with their claws, they bite each 
 other, till the weakest is obliged to yield, by 
 giving up the object of dispute. It is. then 
 that the victor immediately takes possession, 
 and parades it in his new conquest three or 
 four times back and forward upon the strand 
 before his envious antagonist. 
 
 When this animal is taken, it sends forth a 
 feeble cry, endeavouring to seize the enemy 
 
 Peru du Testre. 
 
CRUSTACEOU6 FISHES. 
 
 (569 
 
 with its nippers ; which if it fastens upon it 
 will soontT die than quit the grasp. The 
 wound is very painful, and not easily cured. 
 For this reason, and as it is not much esteem- 
 ed for its flesh, it is generally permitted to re- 
 
 turn to its old retreat to the mountains in 
 safety. There it continues till the necessity 
 of changing once more, and the desire of pro- 
 ducing an offspring, expose it 10 fresh dangers 
 the year ensuing. 
 
 CHAPTER CLI1. 
 
 OF THE TORTOISE AND ITS KINDS. 
 
 HAVING described the lobster and the 
 crab as animals in some measure approaching 
 to the insect tribes, it will appear like injustice 
 to place the Tortoise among the number, that, 
 from its strength, its docility, the warm red 
 blood that is circulating in its veins, deserves 
 to be ranked even above the fishes. But as 
 this animal is covered, like the lobster, with a 
 shell ; as it is of an amphibious nature, and 
 brings forth its young from the egg without 
 hatching, we must be content to degrade it 
 among anhnals that in every respect it infinite- 
 ly surpasses. 
 
 Tortoises are usually divided into those that 
 live upon land, and those that subsist in the 
 water ; and use has made a distinction even 
 in the name ; the one being called Tortoises, 
 the other Turtles. However, Seba has proved 
 that all tortoises are amphibious ; that the 
 land-tortoise will live in the water, and thai 
 the sea-turtle can be fed upon land. A land- 
 tortoise was brought to him that \vas caught 
 in one of the canals of Amsterdam, which he 
 kept for half a year in his house, where it lived 
 very well contented in both elements. When 
 in the water it remained with its head above 
 the surface ; when placed in the sun, it seem- 
 ed delighted with its beams, and continued 
 iminoveable while it felt their warmth. The 
 difference, therefore, in these animals, arises 
 rather from their habits than their conforma- 
 tion ; and, upon examination, there will be 
 less variety found between them than between 
 birds that live upon land, and those that swim 
 upon the water. 
 
 Yet, though nature seems to have made, but 
 few distinctions among these animals, as to 
 their conformation, yet, in their habits, they 
 are very dissimilar : as these result from the 
 
 different qualities of their food, and the dif- 
 ferent sorts of enemies they have to avoid or 
 encounter. I will, therefore, exhibit their 
 figure and conformation under one common 
 description, by which their slight differences 
 will be more obvious ; and then 1 will give a 
 separate history of the manners of each, as 
 naturalists and travellers have taught us. 
 
 All tortoises, in their external form, pretty 
 much resemble each other; their outward 
 covering being composed of two great shells, 
 the one laid upon the other, and only touch- 
 ing at the edges : however, when we come to 
 look closer, we shall find that the tipper shell 
 is composed of no less than thirteen pieces, 
 which are laid flat upon the ribs, like the tiles 
 of a house, by which the shell is kept arched 
 and supported. The shells both above and 
 below, that, which seem, to an inattentive 
 observer, to make each but one piece, are 
 bound together at the edges by very strong 
 and hard ligaments, yet with some small share 
 of motion. There are two holes at either 
 cde of this vaulted body ; one for a very small 
 head, shoulders, and arms to peep through ; 
 the other at the opposite edge, for the feet and 
 the tail. These shells the animal is never 
 disengaged from ; and they serve for its de- 
 fence against every creature but man. 
 
 The tortoise has but a small head, wilh no 
 teeth ; having only two bony ridges in the 
 place, serrated and hard. These serve to 
 gather and grind its food ; and such is the 
 amazing strength of the jaws, that it is impos- 
 sible to open them where they have" once 
 fastened. Even when the head is cut off, the 
 jaws still keep their hold ; and the muscles, in 
 death, preserve a tenacious rigidity. Indeed, 
 the animal is possessed of equal strength in all 
 5B 
 
670 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 other parts of its body : the legs, though short, 
 are inconceivably strong : and torpid as the 
 tortoise may appear, it has been known to 
 Carry five men standing upon his back, with 
 apparent ease and unconcern. Its manner of 
 going forward is by moving its legs one after 
 the other ; and the claws with which the toes 
 are furnished, sink into the ground like the 
 nails of an iron-shod wheel, and assist its pro- 
 gression. 
 
 With respect to its internal parts, not to 
 enter into minute anatomical disquisitions, it 
 may not be improper to observe, that the 
 blood circulates in this animal as in some 
 cartilaginous fishes, and something in the 
 manner of a child in the womb. The greatest 
 quantity of the blood passes directly from the 
 vena cava into the left ventricle of the heart, 
 which communicates with the right ventricle 
 by an opening ; while the auricles only receive 
 what the ventricles seern incapable of admit- 
 ting. Thus the blood is driven by a very 
 short passage through the circulation ; and 
 the lungs seem to lend only occasional assist- 
 ance. From this conformation the animal 
 can subsist for some time, without using the 
 lungs or breathing ; at least, the lungs are not 
 so necessary an instrument for driving on the 
 circulation as with us. 
 
 Such is the general structure of this animal, 
 whether found to live by land or water. 
 With regard to the differences of these animals, 
 the land-tortoise, from its habits of making 
 use of its feet in walking, is much more nim- 
 ble upon land than the sea-turtle : the land- 
 tortoise, if thrown upon its back, by rocking 
 and balancing its body, like a child rocking 
 in a cradle, at last turns itself upon its face 
 again ; but the turtle, when once turned, con- 
 tinues without being able to move from the 
 spot. In comparing the feet also of these ani- 
 mals, the nails upon the toes of one that has 
 been used to scratch for subsistence, upon land, 
 are blunt and worn ; while those that have 
 only been employed in swimming, are sharp 
 and long, and have more the similitude of fins. 
 The brain of the land-tortoise is but small ; 
 and yet it is three times as large as that of the 
 turtle. There is a difference also in the shape 
 of their eggs, and in the passage by which 
 they are excluded ; for, in the land-tortoise, 
 the passage is so narrow, that the egg conforms 
 to the shape of the aperture, and though round 
 
 when in the body, yet becomes much more 
 oblong than those of fowls, upon being ex- 
 cluded ; otherwise they would never be able 
 to pass through the bony canal by which they 
 are protruded ; on the contrary, the passage 
 is wider in the turtle, and therefore its eggs 
 are round. These are the most striking dis- 
 tinctions ; but that which is most known i.s 
 their size ; the land-tortoise often not exceed- 
 ing three feet long, by two feet broad ; the 
 sea-turtle being sometimes from five to seven 
 feet long. The size, however, is but a fallaci- 
 ous distinction ; since land -tortoises, in some 
 parts of India, grow to a very groat magni- 
 tude ; though probably not, as the ancients 
 affirm, big enough for a single shell to serve 
 for the covering of a house. 
 
 But if the different kinds of tortoises are not 
 sufficiently distinguished by iheir figure, they 
 are very obviously distinguishable by their 
 methods of living. The land-tortoise lives In 
 holes dug in the mountains, or near marshy 
 lakes ; the sea-turtle in cavities of rocks, and 
 extensive pastures at the bottom of the sea. 
 The tortoise makes use of its feet to walk 
 with, and burrow in the ground ; the turtle 
 chiefly uses its feet in swimming, or creeping 
 at the bottom. 
 
 The land-tortoise is generally found, as was 
 observed above, from one foot to five feet long, 
 from the end of the snout to the end of the 
 tail ; and from five inches to a foot and a half 
 across the back. It has a small head, some- 
 what resembling that of a serpent ; an eye 
 without the upper lid ; the under eye-lid serv- 
 ing to cover and keep that organ in safety. 
 It has a strong scaly tail, like the lizard. Its 
 head the animal can put out and hide at plea- 
 sure, under the great penthouse of its shell : 
 there it can remain secure from all attacks ; 
 there, defended on every side, it can fatigue 
 the palic'nce of the most formidable animul of 
 the forest, that makes use only of natural, 
 strength to destroy it. As the tortoise lives 
 wholly upon vegetable food, it never seeks the 
 encounter ; yet, if any of the smaller animals 
 attempt to invade its repose, they are sure to 
 suffer. The tortoise, impregnably defended, 
 is furnished with such a strength of jaw, that, 
 though armed only with bony plates instead 
 of teeth, wherever it fastens, it infallibly keeps 
 its hold, until it has taken out the piece. 
 
 Though peaceable in itself, it is formed for 
 
CRUSTACEOUS FISHES. 
 
 671 
 
 war in another respect, for it seems almost 
 endued with immortality. Nothing can kill 
 it ; the depriving it of one of its members, is 
 but a slight injury ; it will live, though de- 
 prived of the brain ; it will live, though de- 
 prived of its head. Rhcdi informs us, that in 
 making some experiments upon vital motion, 
 he, in the beginning of the monih of Novem- 
 ber, took a land-tortoise, made a large opening 
 in its skull, and drew out all the brain, wash- 
 ed the cavity, so as not to leave the smallest 
 part remaining, and then, leaving the hole 
 open, set the animal at liberly. Notwith- 
 standing this, the tortoise marched away with- 
 out seeming to have received the smallest in- 
 jury ; only it shut the eyes, and never opened 
 them afterwards. Soon after the hole in the 
 skull was seen to close; and, in three days, 
 there was a complete skin covering the wound. 
 In this manner the animal lived without a 
 brain, for six months; walking about uncon- 
 cernedly, and moving its limbs as before. 
 But the Italian philosopher, not satisfied with 
 this experiment, carried it still farther; for he 
 cut off the head, and the animal lived twenty- 
 three days after its separation from the body. 
 The head also continued to rattle the jaws, 
 like a pair of castanets," for above a qnorter of 
 an hour. 
 
 Nor are these animals less long-lived than 
 difficult in destroying. Tortoises are com- 
 monly known to exceed eighty years old ; 
 and there was one kept in the Archbishop of 
 Canterbury's garden, at Lambeth, that was 
 remembered above a hundred and twenty. 
 It was at last killed by the severity of a frost, 
 from which it had not sufficiently defended 
 itself in its winter retreat, which was a heap 
 of sand, at the bottom of the garden. 
 
 The usual food of the land-tortoise seems 
 not so nourishing as to supply this extraordi- 
 nary principle of vitality. It lives upon vege- 
 tables in its retreats in the mountains or the 
 plain ; and seldom makes its prey of snails or 
 worms, but when other food is not found in 
 grateful plenty. It is fond also of fruits; and 
 when the forest affords them, is generally 
 found not far from where they grow. As it 
 can move but slowly, it is not very delicate in 
 the choice of its food ; so that it usually fills 
 itself with whatever offers. Those that are 
 kept in a domestic state, will eat any thing ; 
 leaves, fruits, corn, bran, or grass. 
 
 From the smallness of its brain, and the 
 slowness of its motion, it obviously appears to 
 be a torpid, heavy animal, requiring rest and 
 sleep ; and, in fact, it retires to some cavern 
 to sleep for the winter. I already observed 
 that, iis blood circulated through the heart by 
 a short passage ; and that it did not, as ana- 
 tomists express it, go through the great circu- 
 lation. With us, and quadrupeds, the blood 
 goes from the veins to tlie heart ; from the 
 heart it is sent to be spread over the lungs : 
 from the lungs it returns to the" heart again ; 
 and from thence it goes to the arteries to be 
 distributed through the whole body. But its 
 passage in the tortoise is much shorter ; for, 
 from the veins it goes to the heart ; then leav- 
 ing the lungs entirely out of its course, it 
 takes a short cut, if I may so say, into the be- 
 ginning of the arteries, which send it round 
 the animal, frame. From hence we see the 
 lungs are left out of the circulation ; and, con- 
 sequently, the animal is capable of continuing 
 to live without continuing to breath. In this 
 it resembles the bat, the serpent, the mole, and 
 the lizard ; like them it takes up its dark resi- 
 dence for the winter ; and, at that time, when 
 its food is no longer in plenty, it happily be- 
 comes insensible to the want. Nor is it un- 
 mindful to prepare its retreat, and make it as 
 convenient as possible ; it is sometimes buried 
 two or three feet in the ground, with its hole 
 furnished with moss, grass, and other sub- 
 stances, as well to keep the retreat warm, as 
 to serve for food, in case it should prematurely 
 wake from its state of stupefaction. But it 
 must not be supposed that, while it is thus at 
 rest, it totally discontinues to breath ; on the 
 contrary, an animal of this kind, if put into a 
 close vessel, without air, will soon be stifled; 
 though not so readily as in a state of vigour 
 and activity'. 
 
 From this dormant state the tortoise is 
 awakened by the genial return of spring; and 
 is thought not to be much wasted by its long 
 confinement. To animals that live an hun- 
 dred and fifty years, a sleep of six months is 
 but as the nap of a night. All the actions of 
 these long-lived qreatures seem formed upon 
 a scale answering the length of their existence; 
 their slumbers are for a season ; their motions 
 are slow, and require time in every action : 
 even the act of procreation, which among 
 other animals is performed in a. very few 
 
672 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 minutes, is with them the business of days. 
 About a month after their enlargement from 
 a torpid state, they prepare to transmit their 
 posterity; and both continue joined for near 
 a month together. The eggs of the female 
 are contained in the ovary, above the blad- 
 der, which is extremely large ; and these are, 
 before their exclusion, round and naked, 
 with some spots of .red : after they are laid, 
 however, they assume another form, being 
 smaller and linger than those of a hen. This 
 alteration in the figure of the eggs most pro- 
 bably proceeds from the narrowness of the 
 bony passage through which they areexcluded. 
 Swammerdam, who compared the size of the 
 eggs taken out of this animal's body with the 
 diameter of the passage through which they 
 were excluded, was of opinion that the bones 
 themselves separated from each other, and 
 closed again; but, in my opinion, it is more 
 probable to suppose, that the eggs, and riot 
 the bones, alter their form. Certain it is, 
 that they are round in the body, and that they 
 are oval upon being protruded. 
 
 The eggs of all the tortoise kind, like those 
 of birds, are furnished with a yolk and a 
 white ; but the shell is different, being some- 
 what like those soft eggs that hens exclude 
 before their time: however, this shell is much 
 thicker and stronger, and is a longer time in 
 cominj; to maturity in the womb. The land- 
 tortoise lays but a few in number, if com- 
 pared to the sea-turtle, who deposits from a 
 hundred and fifty to two hundred in a sea- 
 
 The amount of the land-tortoise's eggs I 
 hue- not been able to learn; but, from the 
 scarceness of the animal, I am apt to think 
 they cannot be very numerous. When it 
 prepares to lay, the female scratches a slight 
 depression in the earth, generally in a warm 
 situation, where the beams of the sun have 
 th^ir full effect : there depositing her eg^s, 
 and covering them with grass and leaves, she 
 forsakes them, to be hatched by the heat of 
 the season. The young tortoises are gene- 
 rally excluded in about twenty-six days : but, 
 as the heat of the weather assists, or its cold- 
 ness retards incubation, sometimes it happens 
 that there is a difference of two or three days. 
 The little animals no sooner leave the egg 
 ilia?) they seek for their provision, entirely 
 
 self-taught; and their shell, with which they 
 are covered from the beginning, expands and 
 grows larger with age : as it is composed of 
 a variety of pieces, they are all capable of 
 extension at their sutures, and the shell ad- 
 mits of increase in every direction. It is 
 otherwise with those animals, like the lobster, 
 whose shell is composed all of one piece, that 
 admits of no increase ; which, when the 
 tenant is too big for the habitation, must 
 burst the shell, and get another. But the 
 covering of the tortoise grows larger in pro- 
 portion as the internal parts expand ; in 
 some measure resembling the growth of the 
 human skull, which is composed of a num- 
 ber of bones, increasing in size in propor- 
 tion to the quantity of the brain. All tor- 
 toises, therefore, as they never change their 
 shell, must have it formed in pieces; and 
 though, in some that have been described by 
 painters or historians, these marks have not 
 been attended to, yet we can have no doubt 
 that they are general to the whole tribe. 
 
 It is common enough to take these animals 
 into gardens, as they are thought to destroy 
 insects and snails in great abundance. We 
 are even told that in hot countries, they are 
 admitted into a domestic state, as they are 
 great destroyers of bugs. How so large and 
 heavy an animal is capable of being expert 
 at such petty prey, is not easy to conceive ; 
 but I have seen several of them about gentle- 
 men's houses, that, in general, appear torpid, 
 harmless, and even fond of employment. 
 Children have sometimes got upon the back 
 of a tortoise ; and such was the creature's 
 strength, that it never seemed overloaded, 
 but moved off with its burden to where it ex- 
 pected to be fed, but would carry them no 
 further. In winter they regularly- find out a 
 place to sleep in ; but in those warm coun- 
 tries in which the tortoise is found larger, 
 and in greater plenty than in Europe, they 
 live, without retiring, the whole year round. 
 
 The Sea-Tortoise, or Turtle, as it is now 
 called, is generally found larger than the 
 former. This element is possessed with the 
 property of increasing the magnitude of those 
 animals, which are common to the land and 
 the ocean. The sea-pike is larger than that 
 of fr^sli water; the sea-bear is larger than 
 that of the mountains: and the sea-turtle ei 
 
CRUSTACEOUS FISHES. 
 
 ceeds the land-tortoise in the same propor- 
 tion. It is of different magnitudes, according 
 to its different kinds; some turtles being not 
 above tilty pounds weight, and some above 
 eight hundred. 
 
 The Great Mediterranean Turtle is the 
 largest of the turtle kind with which we are 
 acquainted. It is found from five to eight 
 feet long, and from six to nine hundred pounds 
 weight. But, unluckily, its utility bears no 
 proportion to its size; as it is unfit for food, 
 and sometimes poisons those who eat it. The 
 shell also, which is a tough, strong integument, 
 resembling an hide, is unfit for all serviceable 
 purposes. One of these animals was taken 
 in the year 1729, at the month of the Loire, 
 in nets that were not designed for so large a 
 capture. This turtle, which was of enormous 
 strength, by its own struggles involved itself 
 in the nets in such a manner as to be incapa- 
 ble of doing mischief: yet, even thus shackled, 
 it appeared terrible to the fishermen, who 
 were at first for flying; but finding it impo- 
 tent, they gathered courage to drag it on shore, 
 where it made a most horrible bellowing ; and 
 when they began to knock it on the head with 
 their gaffs, it was to be heard at half a mile's 
 distance. They were still further intimidated 
 by its nauseous and pestilential breath, which 
 so powerfully affected them, that they were 
 near fainting. This animal wanted but four 
 inches of being eight feet long, and was above 
 two feet over: its shell more resembled lea- 
 ther than the shell of a tortoise; and, unlike 
 all other animals of this kind, it was furnished 
 with teeth in each jaw, one rank behind ano- 
 ther, like those of a shark: its feet also, dif- 
 ferent from the rest ofcthis kind, wanted claws; 
 and the tail was quite disengaged from the 
 shell, and fifteen inches long, more resembling 
 that of a quadruped than a tortoise. This 
 animal was then unknown upon the coasts of 
 France, and was supposed to have been 
 brought into the European seas, in some In- 
 dia ship that might be wrecked upon her re- 
 turn. Since that, however, two or three of 
 these animals have been taken upon the coasts: 
 two in particular upon those of Cornwall, in 
 the year 1756, the largest of which weighed 
 eight hundred pounds; and one upon the Isle 
 ofRhe, but two years before that, weighed 
 between seven and eight hundred. One, 
 
 most probably of this kind also, was caught 
 about thirty years ago near Scarborough, and 
 a good deal of company was invited to feast 
 upon it: a gentleman, who was one of the 
 guests, told the company that it was a Medi- 
 terranean turtle, and not wholesome; but a 
 person, who was willing to satisfy his appetite 
 at the risk of his life, ate of it : he was seized 
 with a violent vomiting and purging; but his 
 constitution overpowered the malignity of the 
 poison. 
 
 These are a formidable and useless kind, 
 if compared to the turtle caught in the South 
 Seas and the Indian Ocean. These are ot 
 different kinds; not only unlike each other 
 in form, but furnishing man with very differ- 
 ent advantages. They are usually distinguish- 
 ed by sailors into four kinds ; the Trunk Tur- 
 tle, the Loggerhead, the Hawksbill, and the 
 Green Turtle. : 
 
 The Trunk Turtle is commonly larger than 
 the rest, and its back higher and rounder. The 
 flesh of this is rank, and not very wholesome. 
 
 The Loggerhead is so called from the large- 
 ness of its head, which is much bigger in pro- 
 portion than that of the other kinds. The fle^h- 
 of this is also very rank, and not eaten but in 
 case of necessity. 
 
 The Hawksbill Turtle is the least of the 
 four, and has a long and small mouth, s,ome- 
 what resembling the bill of a hawk. The 
 flesh of this also is very indifferent eating; but 
 the shell serves for the most valuable pur- 
 poses. This is the animal that supplies the 
 tortoise-shell, of which such a variety of beau- 
 tiful trinkets are made. The substance of 
 which the shells of other turtlesarecomposed, 
 is thin and porous; but that of the havvksbill 
 is firm, and, when polished, is beautifully mar- 
 bled. They generally carry about three 
 pounds ; but the largest of all six pounds. 
 The shell consists, as in all the kind, of thir- 
 teen leaves or plaits, of which eight are Hat, 
 and five hollow. They are raised and taken 
 ofFby means of fire, which is made under the 
 shell after the flesh is taken out. As soon as 
 the heat affects the leaves, they start from the 
 ribs, and are easily raised with the point of 
 a knife. By being scraped and polished on 
 both sides, they become beautifully transpa- 
 ' rent, or are easily cast into what form the 
 workman thinks proper, by making them soft 
 
674 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 and pliant in warm water, uud (hen screwing II 
 them in a mould, like a medal : however, the 
 shell is most beautiful before it undergoes 
 this last operation. 
 
 But of all animals of the tortoise kind, the 
 green turtle is the most noted, and the- most 
 valuable. The delicacy of its flesh, and its 
 nutritive qualities, together with the property 
 of being easily digested, were, for above a 
 century, known only to our seamen and the 
 inhabitants of the co:!st=; where (hey were 
 taken. It was not till by slow degrees the 
 distinction came to be made between such as 
 were malignant and such as were wholesome. 
 The controversies and contradictions of our 
 old tVavellers were numerous upon this head: 
 some asserting, that the turtle was delicious 
 lood ; and others, that it was actual poison. 
 Dampier, that rough seaman, who has added 
 jnore to natural history than half of the phi- 
 losophers that went before him, appears to be. 
 the first who informed us of their distinctions ; 
 and that, while the rest might be valuable for 
 other purposes, the green turtle alone was 
 chiefly prized for the delicacy of its flesh. 
 He never imagined, however, that this ani- 
 mal would make its way to the luxurious ta- 
 bles of Kurope; for he seems chietly to re- 
 commend it as salted up for ship's provision, 
 in case of necessity. 
 
 At present the turtle is very well known 
 among us, and is become the favourite food 
 of those that are desirous of eating a great 
 deal without the danger of surfeiting. This 
 is a property the flesh of the turtle seems pe- 
 culiarly possessed of; and by the importa- 
 tion of it alive among us, "gluttony is freed 
 from one of its greatest restraints. The flesh 
 of the turtle is become a branch of commerce; 
 and therefore ships are provided with con- 
 veniences for supplying them with water and 
 provision, to bring them over in health from 
 Jamaica and other West India islands. This, 
 however, is not always effected ; for though 
 they are very vivacious, and scarcely require 
 any provision upon the voyage, yet, by the 
 working of the ship, and their beating against 
 the side of the boat that contains them, they 
 become battered and lean ; so that to eat this 
 animal in the highest perfection, instead of 
 bringing the turtle to the epicure, he ought 
 to be transported to the turtle. 
 
 The animal is called the green turtle, from 
 the colour of its shell, which is rather greener 
 ihan that of others of this kind. It is gene- 
 rally found about two hundred weight; though 
 some are five hundred, and others not above 
 fifty. Darnpier tells us of one that was seen 
 at Port-Royal in Jamaica, that was six feet 
 broad across the back; he does not tell us its 
 other dimensions; but says, that the son of 
 Captain Uoach, a boy about ten years old, 
 sailed in the shell, as in a boat, from the shore 
 to his fathers ship, which was above a quar- 
 ter of a mile from land. But this is nothing 
 to the size of some turtles the ancients speak 
 of. ^Elian assures us, that the houses in the 
 island of Taprobane are usually covered with 
 a single shell. Diodorus Siculus tells us, that 
 a people neighbouring on Ethiopia, called the 
 Turtle-caters^ coasted along the shore in boats 
 made of the upper shell of this animal; and 
 that in war, when they had eaten the flesh, 
 the covering served them as a tent. In this 
 account, Pliny, and all the rest of the ancients 
 agree; and as they had frequent opportuni- 
 ties of knowing the truth, we are not lightly 
 to contradict their testimony. 
 
 At present, however, they are not seen of 
 such amazing dimensions. We are told, by 
 Laet, that on the isle of Cuba they grow to 
 such a size, as that five men can stand on the 
 back of one of them together; and, what is 
 more surprising still, that the animal does not 
 seem overloaded, but will go off with them upon 
 its back, with a slow steady motion, towards 
 the sea. 
 
 They are found in the greatest numbers on 
 the island of Ascension^ where, for several 
 years, they were taken to be salted to feed 
 the slaves, or for a supply of ship's provision. 
 Their value at present seems to be better 
 known. 
 
 This animal seldom comes from the sea but 
 to deposite their eggs, and now and then to 
 sport in fresh water. Its chief food is a sub- 
 marine plant, that covers the bottom of seve- 
 ral parts of the sea not far from the shore. 
 There the turtles are seen, when the wea- 
 ther is fair, feeding in great numbers, like 
 flocks of sheep, several fathoms deep upon 
 the verdant carpet below. At other times 
 they go to the mouths of rivers; and they 
 seem to find gratification in fresh water 
 
CRUST ACEOUS PISHES. 
 
 07, < 
 
 After some time thus employed, they seek 
 their former stations: and when done feeding, 
 they generally float with their heads above 
 water, unless they are alarmed by the ap- 
 proach of hunters or birds of prey, in which 
 case they suddenly plunge to the bottom. 
 They often seek their provision among the 
 rocks, feeding upon moss and sea-weed : and 
 it is probable will not disdain to prey upon 
 insects and other small animals, as they are 
 very fond of flesh when taken and fed tor the 
 table. 
 
 At the time of breeding, they are seen to 
 forsake their former haunts and their food, and 
 to take sometimes a voyage of nine hundred 
 miles to deposite their eggs on some favourite 
 shore. The coasts they always resort to upon 
 these occasions are those that are low, flat, 
 and sandy ; for being heavy animals, they can- 
 not climb a bold shore ; nor is any bod so 
 proper as sand to lay their eggs on. They 
 couple in March, and continue united till May ; 
 during a great part of which time they are 
 seen locked together, and almost incapable of 
 separation. The female seems passive and 
 reluctant; but the male grasps her with his 
 claws in such a manner, that nothing can in- 
 duce him to qujt his hold. It would seem that 
 the grasp, as in frogs, is in some measure con- 
 vulsive, and that the animal is unable to relax 
 its efforts. 
 
 When the time for laying approaches, the 
 female is seen towards the setting of the sun 
 drawing near the shore, and looking earnestly 
 about her, as if afraid of being discovered. 
 When she perceives any person on shore, she 
 seeks for another place; but if otherwise, she 
 lands when it is dark, and goes to take a sur- 
 vey of the sand where she designs to lay. 
 Having i-iarked the spot, she goes back, with-, 
 out laying for that night, to the ocean again : 
 but the next night returns to deposite a part of 
 her burden. She begins by working and 
 digging in the sand with her fore-fet t till she 
 has made a round hole, a foot broad and a 
 foot and a half deep, just at the place a little 
 above where the water reaches highest. This 
 done, she lays eighty or ninety eggs at a time, 
 each as big as a hen's egg, and as round as a 
 ball. She continues laying about the space 
 of an hour, during which time, if a cart were 
 driven over her, she would not be induced to 
 stir- The eggs are covered with a tough 
 
 NO. 57 & 58. 
 
 white skin, like wetted parchment. When 
 she has done laying she covers the hole so dex- 
 terously, that it is no easy matter to find the 
 place ; and these must be accustomed to the 
 search to make the discovery. When the 
 turtle has done laying she returns to the sea, 
 and leaves her eggs to be hatched by the heat 
 of the sun. At the end of fifteen days she lays 
 about the same number of eggs again ; and at 
 the end of another fifteen days she repeats the 
 same ; three times in all, using 'the same pre- 
 cautions every time for their safety. 
 
 In about twenty-four or twenty-five days 
 after laying, the eggs are hatched by the heat of 
 the sun ; and the young turtles, being about 
 as big as quails, are seen bursting from the 
 sand, as if earth-born, and running directly to 
 the sea, with instinct only for their guide : 
 but, to their great misfortune, it often happens 
 that, their strength being small, the surges of 
 the sea, for some few days, beat them back 
 upon the shore. Thus exposed, they remain 
 a prey to thousands of birds that then haunt 
 the coasts ; and these stooping down upon 
 them, carry off the greatest part, and some- 
 times the wl.olc brood, before they have 
 strength sufficient to withstand the waves, or 
 dive to the bottom. Helbigius informs us, 
 that they have still another enemy to fear, 
 which is no other than the parent that pro- 
 duced them, that waits for their arrival at the 
 edge of the deep, and devours as many as she 
 can. -This circumstance, however, demands 
 further confirmation ; though nothing is more 
 certain than that the crocodile acts in the same 
 unnatural manner. 
 
 When thr turtles have done laying, they 
 then return to their accustomed places of feed"- 
 ing. Upon their out-set to the shore, where 
 they breed, they are always found fat and 
 healthy ; but upon their return, they are weak, 
 lean, and unfit to be eaten. They are seldom, 
 therefore, molested upon their retreat ; but 
 the great art is to seize them when arrived, or 
 to intercept their arrival. In these uninhabit- 
 ed islands, to which the green-turtle chiefly 
 resorts, the men that go to take them land 
 about night-fall, and without making any 
 noise (for those animals, though without any 
 external opening of the ear, hear very dis- 
 tinctly, there being an auditory conduit that 
 opens into the mouth) lie close while they see 
 the female turtle coming on shore. They Jet 
 
 5C 
 
G7U 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 her proceed to her greatest distance from the 
 sea ; and then, when she is most busily em- 
 ployed in scratching a hole in the sand, they 
 sally out and surprise her. Their manner is 
 to turn her upon her back, which utterly inca- 
 pacitates her from moving; and yet, as the 
 creature is very strong, and struggles very 
 hard, two men find it no easy matter to Jay 
 her over. When thus secured they go to the 
 next ; and in (his manner, in less than three 
 hours, they have been known to turn forty or 
 fifty turtles, each of which weighs from a 
 hundred and fifty to two hundred pounds. 
 Labat assures us, that when the animal is in 
 this helpless situation, it is heard to sigh very 
 heavily, and even to shed tears. 
 
 At present, from the great appetite that 
 man has discovered for this animal, they are 
 not only thinned in their numbers, but are 
 also grown much more shy. There are seve- 
 ral other ways, therefore, contrived for taking 
 them. One is, to seize them when coupled 
 together, at the breeding season, when they 
 are very easily approached, and as easily 
 seen; for these animals, though capable ol 
 living for some time under water, yet rise 
 every eiajht or ten minutes to breath. As 
 
 i i 1 
 
 Boon as they are thus perceived, two or three 
 people draw near them in a canoe, and slip 
 a noose either round their necks or one of 
 their feet. If they have no line, they lay 
 hold of them by the neck, where they have 
 
 no shell, with their hands only ; and by this 
 means they usually catch them both together. 
 But sometimes the female escapes, being 
 more shy than the male. 
 
 Another \vay of taking them is by the har- 
 poon, either when they arc playing on the 
 surface of the water, or feeding at the bot- 
 tom; when the harpoon is skilfully darted, it 
 sticks fast in the shell of the back ; the wood 
 then disengages from the iron, and the line is 
 long enough for the animal to take its range; 
 for if the harpooner should attempt at once 
 to draw the animal into his boat till it is 
 weakened by its own struggling, it would pro- 
 bably get free. Thus tht! turtle struggles 
 hard to get loose, but all in vain; for they 
 take care the line fastened to the harpoon 
 shall be strong enough to hold it. 
 
 There is yet another way which, though 
 seemingly awkward, is said to be attended 
 with very great success. A good diver places 
 himself at the head of the boat ; and when 
 the turtles are observed, which they some- 
 times are in great numbers, asleep on the 
 surface, he immediately quits the vessel, at 
 about fifty yards distance, and keeping still 
 under water, directs his passage to where 
 the turtle was seen, and comil% up beneath, 
 seizes it by the tail ; the animal awaking, 
 struggles to get free ; and by this both are 
 kept at the surface until the boat arrives to 
 take them in. 
 
 CHAPTER CL1I1. 
 
 OF THE SHELL OF TESTACEOUS FISHES. 
 
 ' ONE is apt to combine very dissimilar ob- 
 jects in the same group, when hurried into 
 the vortex of method. No two animals are 
 more unlike each other than the whale and 
 the limpet, the tortoise and the oyster. Yet, 
 as these animals must find some place in the 
 picture of Animated Nature, it is best to let 
 them rest in the station where the generality 
 of mankind have assigned them ; and as they 
 have been, willing to give them all from their 
 
 abode the name of fishes, it is wisest in us to 
 conform. 
 
 But before I enter into any history of shell- 
 fish, it may not be improper to observe, that 
 naturalists who have treated on this part of 
 history, have entirely attended to outward 
 forms; and, as in many other instances, for- 
 saking the description of the animal itself, 
 have exhausted all their industry in describ- 
 ing the habitation. In consequence of this 
 
TESTACEOUS FISHES. 
 
 '077 
 
 radical error, we have volumes written upon 
 the subject of shells, and very little said on 
 the history of shell-fish. The life of these 
 industrious creatures, that for the most part 
 creep along the bottom, or immoveably wait 
 till driven as the waves happen to direct, is 
 almost entirely unknown. The wreathing of 
 their shells, or the- spots with which they are 
 tinctured, have been described with a most 
 disgusting prolixity ; but their appetites and 
 their combats, their escapes and humble arts 
 of subsistence, have been utterly neglected. 
 
 As I have only undertaken to write the his- 
 tory of Animated Nature, the variety of shells, 
 and their peculiar spots or blemishes, do not 
 come within my design. However, the man- 
 ner in which shells are formed is a part of 
 natural history connected with my plan, as 
 it pre-supposes vital force or industry in the 
 animal that forms them. 
 
 The shell may be considered as a habita- 
 tion supplied by nature. Ft is a hard stonv 
 substance, made up somewhat in the manner 
 of a wall. Part of the stony substance the 
 animal derives from outward objects, and the 
 dnids of the animal itself furnish the cement. 
 These united make that firm covering which 
 shell-fish generally reside in till they die. 
 
 But, in order to give a more exact idea of 
 the manner in which sea-shells are formed, 
 we must have recourse to an animal that lives 
 upon land, with the formation of whose shell 
 we are best acquainted. This is the garden- 
 snail, that carries its box upon its back, whose 
 history Swammerdam has taken such endless 
 p^ins to describe. As the manner of the for- 
 mation of this animal's shell extends to that 
 of all others that have shells, whether they 
 live upon land or in the water, it will be 
 proper to give it a place before we enter 
 "upon the history of testaceous fishes. 
 
 To begin with the animal in its earliest 
 state, and trace the progress of its shell from 
 the time it first appears. The instant the 
 young snail leaves the egg, it carries its shell 
 or ks box on its back. It does not leave the 
 egg till it is arrived at a certain growth, 
 when its little habitation is sufficiently har- 
 dened. This beginning of the shell is not 
 much bigger than a pin's head, but grows in 
 a very rapid manner, having at first but two 
 circumvolutions, for the rest are added as the 
 
 snail grows larger. In proportion as the ani- 
 mal increases in size, the circumvolutions of 
 the shell increase also, until the number of 
 those volutes come to be five, which is never 
 exceeded. 
 
 The part where the animal enlarges its 
 shells is at the mouth, to which it adds in 
 proportion as it finds itself stinted in ittf 
 habitation below. Being about to enlarge 
 its shell, it is seen with its little teeth biting 
 and clearing away the scaly skin that grows 
 at the edges. It is sometimes seen to eat 
 those bits it thus takes off; at other times it 
 only cleans away the margin when covered 
 with films, and then adds another rim to its 
 shell. 
 
 For the purposes of making the shell, 
 which is natural to the animal, and without 
 which it could not live three days, its whole 
 body is furnished with glands, from the ori- 
 fices of which flows out a kind of slimy fluid, 
 like small spiders'threads,which join together 
 in one common crust or surface, and in time 
 condense and acquire a stony hardness. It 
 is this slimy humour that grows into a mem- 
 brane, and afterwards a stony skin; nor can 
 it have escaped any who have observed the 
 track of a snail, that glistening substance 
 which it leaves on the floor or the wall, is no 
 other than the materials with which the ani- 
 mal adds to its shell, or repairs it when bro- 
 ken. ;.) 
 Now to exhibit in a more satisfactory man- 
 ner the method in which the shell is formed. 
 The snail bursts from its egg with its shell 
 upon its back ; this sRell, though very simple, 
 is the centre round which every succeeding 
 convolution of the shell is formed, by new 
 circles added to the first. As the body of the 
 snail can be extended no where but to the 
 aperture, the month of the shell only can, of 
 consequence, receive augmentation. The 
 substance of which the shell is composed is 
 chiefly supplied by the animal itself, and is 
 no more than a slimy fluid which hardens 
 into bone. This fluid passes through an in- 
 finite number of little glands till it arrives at 
 the pores of the skin ; but there it is stopped 
 by the shell that covers the part below ; and 
 therefore is sent to the mouth of (he shell, 
 where it is wanted for its enlargement. There 
 the first layer of slime soon hardens; awl 
 5C 
 
678 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 then another is added, which hardens also,, 
 till in time the shell becomes as thick as is 
 requisite for the animal's preservation. Thus 
 every shell may be considered as composed 
 of a number of layers of slime, which have 
 entirely proceeded from the animal's own 
 body. 
 
 But though this be the general opinion 
 with regard to the formation of shells, 1 can- 
 not avoid thinking there are still other sub- 
 stances besides the .animal's own slime which 
 go to the composition of its shell, or at least 
 to its external coat, which is ever different 
 from the internal. The substances I mean are 
 the accidental concretions of earthy or sa- 
 line parts, which adhere to the slimy mat- 
 ter upon its first emission. By adopting this 
 theory, we can more satisfactorily account 
 for the various colours of the shell, which 
 cannot be supposed to take its tincture from 
 the animal's body, as is the usual opinion ; 
 for all the internal parts of the shell are but 
 of one white colour; it is only the outermost 
 layer of the shell that is so beautifully varied, 
 so richly tinctured with that variety of colours 
 we behold in the cabinets of the curious. If 
 the external coat be scaled off', as Mr. Angen- 
 ville asserts, all the inner substance will be 
 found but of one simple colouring; and con- 
 sequently the animal's own juices can give 
 enly one colour; whereas we see some shells 
 stained with a hundred. 
 
 The usual way of accounting for the dif- 
 ferent colouring of shells, which seems to me 
 erroneous, is this: In th^> body of every one 
 of these animals, several- streaks are discern- 
 ed of a different colour from the rest. "This 
 variety," say they, " is an incontestable proof 
 that the juices flowing from those parts will 
 be also of a different hue; and will conse- 
 quently tinge that part of the shell which their 
 slime composes of a different colour." But 
 this system, as was observed before, is over- 
 thrown by the fact, which discovers that only 
 the outer surface of the shell is tinged ; where- 
 as by this it would have been coloured through- 
 out ; nay, by this system, the internal parts 
 of the shell would he stained with the most 
 vivid colouring, as being least exposed to the 
 external injuries of the element where it is 
 placed. But the truth is, the animal residing 
 in the shell has none of these various colours 
 
 thus talked of: its slime is a simple, pellucid 
 substance; and (he only marblings which ap- 
 pear in its body, are the colour of the food 
 which is seen through its transparent intes- 
 tines. We must, therefore, account for the 
 various colouring of its shell upon a different 
 principle. 
 
 if, as I said, we examine-the cabinets of the 
 curious, we shall find shells with Carious and 
 beautiful colouring; we shall find them ge- 
 nerally furnished with a while ground, tinc- 
 tured with red, yellow, brown, green, and se- 
 veral other shades and lovely mixtures, but 
 never blue. Shells are of almost all colours 
 but blue. The reason seems to be obvious; 
 for blue is the colour which sea-water changes. 
 A piece of silk, or a feather, of this colour, 
 put into an infusion of salt, urine, or nitre, 
 lose their tint entirely. Now, may not this 
 give us a hint with respect to the operation 
 of nature in colouring her shells? May we not 
 from hence conclude, that sea-water is effi- 
 cacious in giving colour or taking it away? 
 That, to produce colour, the animal not only 
 furnishes its juices, but the sea or the earth 
 that mixture of substance which is to unite 
 with them. Neither the animal slime alone, 
 nor the external earthy or saline substances 
 alone, could produce colours; but both united, 
 produce an effect which neither separately 
 were possessed of. Thus shells assume every 
 colour but blue; and that sea-water, instead 
 of producing, would be apt to destroy. 
 
 From hence, therefore, it appears, that the 
 animal does not alone tincture its own shell; 
 but that external causes co-operate in contri- 
 buting to its beauty. It is probable, that, 
 from the nature of its food, or from other cir- 
 cumstances unknown to us, the external lay- 
 ers of its slime may be of different consisten- 
 ces; so as, when joined with the particles of 
 earth or salt that are accidentally united with 
 them from without, they assume various and 
 beautiful hues. But the internal layers, which 
 receive no foreign admixture, still pi^erve 
 the natural colour of the animal, and continue 
 white without any variation. 
 
 Thus far we see that the animal is not whol- 
 ly the agent in giving beauty and colouring 
 to its shell : but it seems otherwise with re- 
 spect to its convolutions, its prominences, and 
 general form. These entirely depend upon 
 
TESTACEOUS FISHES. 
 
 the art of the animal; or rather upon its in- 
 stincts ; which, in the same kinds, are ever 
 invariable. The shell generally hears some 
 rude resemblance to the body upon which it 
 has been moulded. Thus, it is observable in 
 all sea-shells, that if the animal has any tu- 
 mour or excrescence on its body, it creates 
 likewise a swelling in that part of the incrus- 
 tation to which it corresponds. When the 
 animal begins to alter its position, and to 
 make new additions to its apartments, the 
 same protuberance which had raised the shell 
 before in one part, swells it again at some lit- 
 tle distance; by which means we see the 
 same inequality, in a spiral line, all -round 
 the shell. Sometimes these tumours of the 
 animal are so large, or so pointed, that those 
 which rise over them in the incrustation, ap- 
 pear like horns: after this the animal disen- 
 gages itself from its first cavities, and then, 
 by fresh evacuations, assumes a new set of 
 horns; and so increases the number in pro- 
 portion to its growth. If, on the other hand, 
 the body happens to be channelled, the shell 
 that covers it will be channelled likewise; if 
 there be any protuberances in the body, which 
 wind in a spiral line about it, the shell will 
 likewise have its tumours and cavities winding 
 round to the end. 
 
 In this manner, as the animals are of vari- 
 ous forms, the shells exhibit an equal variety. 
 Indeed, the diversity is so great and the 
 figures and colours so very striking, that seve- 
 ral persons, with a kind of harmless indolence, 
 have made the arrangement of them the study 
 and the business of their lives. Those who 
 consult their beauty alone, take care to have 
 them polished, and to have an external crust, 
 or periosteum, as Swammerdam calls it, 
 scoured off fro:n their surfaces by spirit of 
 salt. But there are others that, with more 
 learned affectation, keep them exactly in the 
 state in which they have been found, with 
 their precious crust still round them. The 
 expense men have sometimes been at in 
 making such collections, is amazing; and 
 some shells, such as the Stairs-shell, or the 
 Admiral-shell, are not more precious for their 
 scarceness, than pearls are for their beauty. 
 Indeed, it is the scarcity, and not the beauty 
 of the object, that determines the value of all 
 natural curiosities. Those shells that offer 
 
 but little beauty to the ignorant, are often the 
 most precious ; and those shells which an un- 
 learned spectator would stop to observe with 
 admiration, one accustomed to the visitation 
 of cabinets, would pass over with disdain. 
 These collections, however, have their use: 
 I not only by exhibiting the vast variety of na- 
 ture's operations, but also by exciting our 
 curiosity to the consideration of the animals 
 that form them. A mind that can find inno- 
 cent entertainment in these humble contem- 
 plations is well employed; and, as we say of 
 children, is kept from doing mischief. Al- 
 though there may be nobler occupations 
 than that of considering the convolutions of 
 a shell, yet there may be some who want the 
 ambition to aspire after such arduous pursuits; 
 there may be some unfit for them ; there 
 may be some who find their ambition fully 
 gratified by the praise which the collectors 
 of shells bestow upon each other. Indeed, 
 for a day or two, there is no mind that a 
 cabinet of shells cannot furnish with pleasing 
 employment. " What can be more gratify- 
 ing," as Pliny says," " than to view nature in 
 all her irregularities, and sporting in her 
 variety of shells ! such a difference of colour 
 do they exhibit ! such a difference of figure ! 
 flat, concave, long, lunated, drawn round in 
 a circle, the orbit cut in two ! some are seen 
 with a rising on the back, some smooth, some 
 wrinkled, toothed, streaked, the point vari- 
 ously intorted, the mouth pointing like a dag- 
 ger, folded back, bent inwards ! all these 
 variations, and many more, furnish at once 
 novelty, elegance, and speculation." 
 
 With respect to the figure of shells, Aris- 
 totle has divided them into three kinds: and 
 his method is, of all others, the most con- 
 formable to nature. These are, first, the uni- 
 valve, or turbinated'\v\\\c\\ consist of one piece, 
 like the box of a snail ; secondly, the bivalve, 
 consisting of two pieces, united by a hinge. 
 like an oyster; and, thirdly, the multivawe, 
 consisting of more than two pieces, as the 
 acorn-shell, which has not less than twelve 
 pieces that go to its composition. All these 
 kinds are found in the sea at different depths, 
 arid are valuable in proportion to their 
 scarceness or beauty. 
 
 * Plin. ix. 33. 
 
A HISTORY OF 
 
 From the variety of ilie colours and figure 
 of shells, we may pass to that of their place 
 and situation. Some are found in the sea; 
 some in fresh-water rivers ; some alive upon 
 land ; and a still greater quantity dead in the 
 bowels of the earth. But wherever shells are 
 found, they are universally known to be com- 
 posed of one and the same substance. They 
 are formed of an animal or calcariotis earth, 
 that ferments with vinegar and other acids, 
 and that burns into lime, and will not easily 
 melt into glass. Such is the substance of 
 which they are composed : and of their spoils, 
 many philosophers think that a great part of 
 ihe surface of the earth is composed at present. 
 !t is supposed by them, that chalks, marls, and 
 all such earths as ferment with vinegar, are 
 nothing more than a composition of shells, 
 decayed, and crumbled down to one uniform 
 mass. 
 
 Sea-shells are either found in the depths of 
 the ocean, or they are cast empty and forsaken 
 of their animals upon shore. Those which 
 are fished up from the deep, are called by the 
 Latin name Pelagii; those that are cast upon 
 shore, are called Littorales. Many of the 
 pelagii are never seen upon shore ; they con- 
 tinue in the depths where they are bred ; and 
 we owe their capture only to accident. These, 
 therefore, are the most scarce shells, and con- 
 sequently the most valuable. The littorales 
 are more frequent, and such as are of the same 
 kind with the pelagii are not so beautiful. As 
 they are often empty and forsaken, and as 
 their animal is dead, and perhaps putrid in the 
 bottom of the shell, they by this means lose 
 the whiteness and the brilliancy of their colour- 
 ing. They are not unfrequently also found 
 eaten through, either by worms or by each 
 other ; and they are thus rendered less valu- 
 able : but what decreases their price still more 
 is, when they are scaled and .worn by lying too 
 long empty at the bottom, or exposed upon 
 the shore. Upon the whole, however, sea- 
 shells exceed either land or fossil shells in 
 beauty ; they receive the highest polish, and 
 exhibit the most brilliant and various colour- 
 ing.^ 
 
 Fresh-water shells are neither so numerous, 
 so various, nor so beautiful, as those belong- 
 ing to the sea. They want that solidity which 
 the others have ; their clavicle, as it is called, 
 rs neither so prominent nor so strong; and not 
 
 having a saline substance to tinge the surface 
 of the shell, the colours are obscure. In fresh- 
 water there are but two kinds of shells, name- 
 ly, the bivalvcd and the turbinated. 
 
 Living land-shells are more beautiful, though 
 not so various as those of fresh-water ; and 
 some not inferior to sea-shells in beauty. 
 There are, indeed, but of one kind, namelv, 
 the turbinated ; but in that there are found 
 four or five very beautiful varieties. 
 
 Of fossil, or, as they are called, extraneous 
 shells, found in the bowels of the earth, there 
 are great numbers, and as great a variety. In 
 this class there are as many kinds as in the 
 sea itself. There are found there turbinatcd, 
 the bivalve, and the multivative kinds ; and 
 of all these, many at present not to be found 
 even in the ocean. Indeed, the number is so 
 great, and the varieties so many, that it was 
 long the opinion of naturalists, that they were 
 merely the capricious productions of nature, 
 and had never given rein at to animals whose 
 habitations they resembled. They were found v 
 iiot only of various kinds, but in different states 
 of preservation : some had the shell entire, 
 composed, as in its primitive state, of a white 
 calcarious earth, and filled with earth, or even 
 empty ; others were found with the shell 
 entire, but filled with a substance which was 
 petrified by time ; others, and these in great 
 numbers, were found with the shell entirely 
 mouldered away, but the petrified substance 
 that filled it still exhibiting the figure of the 
 shell ; others still, that had been lodged near 
 earth or stone, impressed their print upon 
 these substances, and left the impression, 
 though they themselves were decayed : lastly, 
 some shells were found half mouldered away, 
 their parts scaling off from each other in the 
 same order in which they were originally 
 formed. However, these different stages of 
 the shell, and even their fermenting with acids, 
 were at first insufficient to convince those who 
 had before assigned them a different origin. 
 They were still considered as accidentally and 
 sportively formed, and deposited in the various 
 repositories where they were found, but no 
 way appertaining to any part of Animated 
 Nature. This put succeeding inquiries upon 
 more minute researches ; and they soon be- 
 gan to find, that often where they dug up 
 petrified shells or teeth, they could discover the 
 petrified remains of some other bony parts of 
 
TESTACEOUS FISHES. 
 
 681 
 
 the body. They found that the shells which 
 were taken from the earth, exhibited the usual 
 defects and mischances, which the same kind 
 are known to receive at sea. They showed 
 thorn not only tinctured with a salt-water 
 crust, but pierced in a peculiar manner by the 
 sea worms, that make the shells of fishes their 
 favourite food. These demonstrations were 
 sufficient at last to convince all but a few 
 philosophers who died away, and whose erro- 
 neous systems died with them. 
 
 Every shell, therefore, wherever it is found, 
 is now considered as the spoil of some animal, 
 that oce found shelter therein. It matters 
 not by what unaccountable means they may 
 have wandered from the sea ; but they exhibit 
 all, and the most certain marks of their origin. 
 From their numbers and situation, we are led 
 to conjecture, that the sea reached the places 
 where they are found ; and from their varie- 
 ties, we learn how little we know of all the 
 sea contains at present ; as the earth furnishes 
 many kinds which our most exact and indus- 
 trious shell-collectors have not been able to 
 fish up from the deep. It is most probable 
 that thousands of different forms still remain 
 at the bottom unknown ; so that we may 
 justly say with the philosopher: Ea quce sci- 
 mus sunt pars minima eorum quce ignora- 
 mus. 
 
 It is well, however, for mankind, that the 
 defect of our knowledge on this subject is, of 
 all parts of learning, that which may be most 
 easily dispensed with. An increase in the 
 number of shells, would throw but very few 
 lights upon the history of the animals that 
 
 inhabit them. For such information we are 
 obliged to those men who contemplated some- 
 thing more than the outside of the objects before 
 them. To ReaumSr we are obliged for ex- 
 amining the manners of some with accuracy ; 
 but to Swammerdam for more. In fact, this 
 Dutchman has lent attention to those animals, 
 that almost exceed credibility : he has ex- 
 celled even the insects he dissected, in patience, 
 industry, and perseverance. It was in vain 
 that this poor man's father dissuaded him 
 from what the world considered as a barren 
 pursuit ; it was in vain that an habitual disor- 
 der, brought on by his application, interrupted 
 his efforts; it was in vain that mankind treat- 
 ed him with ridicule while living, as they suf- 
 fered his works to remain long imprinted and 
 neglected when dead ; still the Dutch philo 
 sopher went on, peeping into unwholesome 
 ditches, wading through fens, dissecting spi- 
 ders, and enumerating the blood-vessels of a 
 snail : like the bee, whose heart he could not 
 only distinguish, but dissect, he seemed in- 
 stinctively impelled by his ruling passion, 
 although he found nothing but ingratitude from 
 man, and though his industry was apparently 
 becoming fatal to himself. From him I will 
 take some of the leading features in the history 
 of those animal? which breed in shells; pre- 
 viously taking my division from Aristotle, who, 
 as was said above, divides them into three 
 classes; the Turbinated, or those of the Snail 
 kind ; the Bivalved, or those of the Oyster 
 kind ; and the Multivalved, or those of the 
 Acorn-shell kind. Of each I will (real in dis- 
 tinct chapters. 
 
 CHAPTER CLIV. 
 
 i 
 
 OF TURBINATED SHELL-FISH OF THE SNAIL KIND. 
 
 TO conceive the manner in which those 
 animals subsist that are hid from us at the bot- 
 tom of the deep, we must again have recourse 
 to one of a similar nature and formation, that 
 we know. The history of the garden-snail 
 has been more copiously considered than that 
 of the elephant ; and its anatomy is as well, 
 if not better known : however, not to give 
 
 any one object more room in the general pic- 
 ture of nature than it is entitled to, it will be 
 sufficient to observe, that the snail is surpri- 
 singly fitted for the life it is formed to lead. 
 It is furnished with the organs of life in a 
 manner almost as complete as the largest ani- 
 mal ; with a tongue, brain, salival ducts, 
 glands, nerves, stomach, and intestines; liver, 
 
A HISTORY OF 
 
 heart, and blood-vessels: besides this, it has 
 a purple bag that furnishes a red matter to 
 different parts of the body, together with 
 strong muscles that hold it to the shell, and 
 which are hardened, like tendons, at their 
 insertion. 
 
 But these it possesses in common with other 
 animals. We must now see what it has pe- 
 culiar to itself. The first striking peculiari- 
 ty is, that the animal has got its eyes on the 
 points of its largest horns. When the snail 
 is in motion, four horns are distinctly seen ; 
 but the two uppermost and longest deserve 
 peculiar consideration, both on account of the 
 various motions with which they are endaed, 
 as well as their having their eyes fixed at the 
 extreme ends of them. These appear like two 
 blackish points at their ends. When con- 
 sidered as taken out of the body, they are of 
 a bulbous or turnip-like figure ; they have but 
 one coat; and the three humours which are 
 common in the eyes of other animals, namely, 
 the vitreous, the aqueous, and the crystalline, 
 are in these very indistinctly seen. The eyes 
 the animal can direct to different objects at 
 pleasure, by a regular motion out of the body; 
 and sometimes it hides them, by a very swift 
 contraction into the belly. Under the small 
 horns is the animal's month; and though it 
 may appear too soft a substance to be fur- 
 nished with teeth, yet it lias not less than 
 eight of them, with which it devours leaves, 
 and other substances, seemingly harder than 
 itself; and with which it sometimes bites oflT 
 pieces of its own shell. 
 
 But what is most surprising in the forma- 
 tion of this animal, are the parts that serve 
 for generation. Every snail is at once male 
 and female; and while it impregnates another, 
 is itself impregnated in turn. -The vessels 
 supplying the fluid for this purpose, are pla- 
 ced chiefly in the fore part of the neck, and 
 extend themselves over the body ; but the 
 male and female organs of generation, are 
 always found united, and growing together. 
 There is a large opening on the right side of 
 the neck, which serves for very different pur- 
 poses. As an anus it gives a passage to the 
 excrements ; as a mouth it serves for an open- 
 ing for a respiration ; and also as an organ 
 of generation, it dilates when the desire of 
 propagation begins. Within this each ani- 
 
 mal has those parts, or something similar 
 thereto, which continue the kind. 
 
 For some d;>ys before coition, the snails 
 gather together, and lie quite near each other, 
 eating very little in the mean time; but they 
 settle their bodies in such a posture, that the 
 neck arid head are placed upright. In the 
 mean time, the apertures on the side of the 
 neck being greutl) dilated, two organs, re- 
 sembling intestines, are seen issuing from 
 them, which some have thought to be the in- 
 struments of generation. Beside the protru- 
 sion of these, each animal is possessed of 
 another peculiarity; for, from the same aper- 
 ture, they launch forth a kind of dart at each 
 other, which is pretty hard, barbed, and end- 
 ing in a very sharp point. This is performed 
 when the apertures approach each other; 
 and then the one is seen to shoot its weapon, 
 which is received by the other, though it 
 sometimes falls to the ground; some minutes 
 after, the snail which received the weapon, 
 darts one of its own at its antagonist, which 
 is received in like manner. They then soft- 
 ly approach still nearer, and apply their bo- 
 dies one to the other, as closely as the palms 
 and fingers of the hands, when grasped toge- 
 ther. At that time the horns are seen vari- 
 ously moving in all directions ; and this 
 sometimes for three days together. The cou- 
 pling of these animals is generally thrice re- 
 peated, at intervals of fifteen days each ; 
 and at every time, a new dart is mutually 
 emitted. 
 
 At the expiration of eighteen days, thesnails 
 produce their eggs, at the opening of the neck, 
 and hide them in the earth with the greatest 
 solicitude and industry. These eggs are in 
 great numbers, round, white, and covered 
 with a soft shell: they are also stuck to each 
 other by an imperceptible slime, like a bunch 
 of grapes, of about the size of a small pea. 
 
 When the animal leaves the egg, it is seen 
 with a very small shell on its back, which 
 has but one convolution; but in proportion 
 as it grows, the shell increases in the number 
 of its circles. The shell always receives its 
 additions at the mouth; the first centre still 
 remaining : the animal sending forth from its 
 body that slime which hardens into a stony 
 substance, and still is fashioned into similar 
 volutions. The garden-snail seldom exceeds 
 
TESTACEOUS FISHES. 
 
 1)8.;! 
 
 four rounds and a- half; but some of the sea- 
 snails arrive even at ten. 
 
 The snail, thus fitted with its box, which is 
 light and firm, finds itself defended in a very 
 ample manner from all external injury. 
 Whenever it is invaded, it is but retiring into 
 this fortress, and waiting patiently till the dan- 
 ger is over. Nor is it possessed only of a 
 power of retreating into its shell, but of mend- 
 ing it when broken. Sometimes these animals 
 are crushed seemingly to pieces ; and, to all 
 appearance, utterly destroyed : yet still they 
 set themselves to work, and, in a few days, 
 mend all their numerous breaches. The 
 same substance by which the shell is originally 
 made, goes to there-establishment of the ruin- 
 ed habitation. But all the junctures arc very 
 easily seen, for they have a fresher colour than 
 the rest, and the whole shell in some measure 
 resembles an old coat, patched with new 
 pieces. They are sometimes seen with eight 
 or ten of these patches; so that the damage 
 must have been apparently irreparable. Still, 
 however, though the animal is possessed of 
 the power of mending its shell, it cannot, when 
 come to its full growth, make a new one. 
 Swammerdam tried the experiment: he strip- 
 ped a snail of its shell, without hurting any of 
 the blood-vessels, retaining that part of the 
 shell where the muscles were inserted ; but it 
 died in three days after it was stripped of its 
 covering : not, however, without making 
 efforts to build up a new shell ; for, before its 
 death, it pressed out a certain membrane round 
 the whole surface of its body. This membrane 
 was entirely of the shelly nature, and was in- 
 tended, by the animal, as a supply towards a 
 new one. 
 
 As the snail is furnished with all the organs 
 of life and sensation, it is not wonderful to see 
 it very voracious. It chiefly subsists upon the 
 leaves of plants and trees ; but is very delicate 
 in its choice. When the animal moves to seek 
 its food, it goes fonvard by means of that 
 broad muscular skin which is sometimes seen 
 projecting round the mouth of the shell ; this 
 is expanded before, and then contracted with 
 a kind of undulating motion, like a man at- 
 tempting to move himself forward by one arm, 
 while lying on his belly. But the snail has 
 another advantage, by which it not only 
 smooths and planes its way, but also can 
 ascend in the most perpendicular direction. 
 
 MO. 57 & 58. 
 
 This is by that slimy substance with which it 
 is so copiously furnished, and which it emits 
 wherever it moves. Upon this slime, as upon 
 a kind of carpet, it proceeds slowly along, 
 without any danger of wounding its tender 
 body against the asperites of the pavement ; 
 by means of this it moves upwards to its food 
 upon trees ; and by this descends without 
 danger of falling, and breaking its shell by the 
 shock. 
 
 The appetite of these animals is very great , 
 and the damage gardeners in particular sustain 
 from them, makes them employ every method 
 for their destruction. Salt will destroy them, 
 as well as soot ; but a tortoise in a garden is 
 said to banish them much more effectually. 
 
 At the approach of winter, the snail buries 
 itself in the earth ; or retires to some hole, to 
 continue in a torpid state, during the severity 
 of the season. It is sometimes seen alone ; 
 but more frequently in company in its retreat ; 
 several being usually found together, apparent- 
 ly deprived of life and sensation. For the 
 purposes of continuing in greater warmth and 
 security, the snail forms a cover or lid to the 
 mouth of its shell with its slime, which stops 
 it up entirely, and thus protects it from every 
 external danger. The matter of which the 
 cover is composed, is whitish, somewhat like 
 plaster, pretty hard and solid, yet at the same 
 time porous and thin, to admit air, which the 
 animal cannot live without. When the cover 
 is formed too thick, the snail then breaks a 
 little hole in it, which corrrcts the defect of 
 that closeness, which proceeded from too much 
 caution. In this manner, sheltered in its hole 
 from the weather, defended in its shell by a 
 cover, it sleeps during the winter ; and, for 
 six or seven months, continues without food 
 or motion, until the genial call of spring breaks 
 its slumber, and excites its activity. 
 
 The snail having slept for so long a season, 
 wakes one of the first fine days of April, breaks 
 open its cell, and sallies forth to seek for nou- 
 rishment. It is not surprising that so long a 
 fast should have thinned it, and rendered it 
 very voracious. At first, therefore, it is not 
 very difficult in the choice of its food ; almost 
 any vegetable that is green seems welcome ; 
 but the succulent plants of the garden are 
 chiefly grateful ; and the various kinds of 
 pulse are, at some seasons, almost wholly de~ 
 stroyed by their numbers. So great is the 
 
 5D 
 
681 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 multiplication of snails at some years, that 
 gardeners imagine they burst from the earth. 
 A wet season is generally favourable to their 
 production ; for this animal cannot bear very 
 i:ry seasons, or dry places, as they cause too 
 great a consumption of its slime, without 
 plenty of which it cannot subsist in health and 
 
 vigour. 
 
 Such are the most striking particulars in 
 the history of this animal ; and this may serve 
 as a general picture, to which the manners 
 and habitudes of the other tribes of this class 
 may be compared and referred. These are, 
 the sea-snail, of which naturalists have, from 
 the apparent difference of their shells, mention- 
 ed fifteen kinds ; a the fresh-water snail, of 
 which there are eight kinds ; and the land- 
 snail, of which there are five. These all bear 
 a strong resemblance to the garden-snail, in 
 the formation of their shell, in their hermaphro- 
 dite natures, in the slimy substance with which 
 they are covered, in the formation of their in- 
 testines, and the disposition of the hole on the 
 right side of the neck, which serves at once 
 for the discharge of the faeces, for the lodging 
 the instruments of generation, and for respira- 
 tion, when the animal is under a necessity of 
 taking in a new supply. 
 
 But in nature, no two kinds of animals, 
 however like each other in figure or confor- 
 mation, are of manners entirely the same. 
 Though the common garden-snail bears a very 
 strong resemblance to that of fresh -water, and 
 that of the sea, yet there are differences to be 
 found, and those very considerable ones. 
 
 If we compare them with the fresh-water 
 snail, though we shall find a general resem- 
 blance, yet there are one or two remarkable 
 distinctions : and first, the fresh-water snail, 
 and, as I should suppose, all snails that live in 
 water, are peculiarly furnished with a contri- 
 vance by nature, for rising to the surface, or 
 sinking to the bottom. The manner in which 
 this is performed, is by opening and shutting 
 the orifice on the right side of the neck, which 
 is furnished with muscles for that purpose. 
 The snail sometimes gathers this aperture 
 into an oblong tube, and stretches or protends 
 it above the surface of the water, in order to 
 draw in or expel the air as it finds occasion. 
 This may not only be seen, but heard also by 
 
 D'Argenville's Concliylioligie. 
 
 the noise which the snail makes in moving 
 the water. By dilating this it rises, by com- 
 pressing it the animal sinks to the bottom. 
 This is effected somewhat in the manner in 
 which little images of glass are made to rise 
 or sink in water, by pressing the air contained 
 at the mouth of the tubes, so ihat it shall drive 
 the water into their hollow bodies, which be- 
 fore were filled only with air, and thus make 
 them heavier than the clement in which they 
 swim. In this manner does the fresh-water 
 snail dive or swim, by properly managing the 
 air contained in its body. 
 
 But what renders these animals far more 
 worthy of notice is. that they are viviparous, 
 and bring forth their young not only alive, but 
 with their shells upon their backs. This 
 seems surprising : yet it is incontestably true f 
 the young come to some degree of perfection 
 in the womb of the parent; there they receive 
 their stony coat ; and from thence are ex- 
 cluded, with a complete apparatus for subsis- 
 tence. 
 
 "On the twelfth of March," says Swam- 
 merdam, " I began my observations upon this, 
 snail, and collected a great number of the 
 kind, which I put into a large basin filled with 
 rain-water, and fed for a long time with pot- 
 ter's earth, dissolved in the water about them. 
 On the thirteenth of the same month I opened 
 one of these snails, when I found nine living 
 snails in its womb : the largest of these were 
 placed foremost, as the first candidates for ex- 
 clusion. I put them into fresh-water, and 
 they lived till the eighteenth of the same 
 month, moving and swimming, like snails full 
 grown ; nay, their manner of swimming was 
 much more beautiful." Thus, at whatever 
 time of the year these snails are opened, they 
 are found pregnant with eggs, or with living 
 snails ; or with both together. 
 
 This striking difference between the fresh- 
 water and the garden-snail, obtains also in 
 some of the sea kind ; among which there are 
 some that are found viviparous, while others 
 lay eggs in the usual manner. Of this kind 
 are one or two of the Buccinums ; within 
 which living young have been frequently 
 found, upon their dissection. In general, 
 however, the rest of this numerous class bring 
 forth eggs ; from whence the animal bursts at 
 a proper state of maturity, completely equip- 
 ped with a house, which the moistness of the 
 
TESTACEOUS FISHES. 
 
 680 
 
 element where it resides does not prevent the 
 inhabitant from enlarging. How the soft slime 
 of the snail hardens, at the bottom of the sea, 
 into the stony substance of a shell, is not easy 
 to conceive ! This slime must at least be pos- 
 sessed of very powerful petrifying powers. 
 
 All animals of the snail kind, as was ob- 
 served before, arc hermaphrodites; each con- 
 taining the instruments of generation double. 
 But some of the sea kinds copulate in a dif- 
 ferent manner from those of the garden. The 
 one impregnates the other; but, from the po- 
 sition of the parts, is incapable of being im- 
 pregnated by the same in turn. For this rea- 
 son it is necessary for a third to be admitted 
 as a partner in this operation: so that, while 
 one impregnates that before it, another does 
 the same office by this; which is itself impreg- 
 nated by a fourth. In this manner, Mr. Adan- 
 son has seen vast numbers of sea-snails united 
 together in a chain, impregnating each other. 
 The Bulin and the Corel perform the offices 
 of male and female at the same time. The 
 orifices in these are two, both separate from 
 each other: the opening by which the animal 
 performs the office of the male, being at the 
 origin of the horns; that by which it is pas- 
 sive, as the female, being farther down upon 
 the neck. It may also be observed as a ge- 
 neral rule, that all animals that have this ori- 
 fice, or verge, as some call it, on the right side, 
 have their shells turned from the right to the 
 left ; on the contrary, those which have it on 
 the left side, have their shells turned from left 
 to right, in a contrary direction to the former. 
 
 But this is not the only difference between 
 land and sea-snails. Many of the latter en- 
 tirely want horns; and none of them have 
 above two. Indeed, if the horns of snails be 
 furnished with eyes, and if, as some are wil- 
 ling to think, the length of the horn, like the 
 tube of a telescope, assists vision, these ani- 
 mals that chiefly reside in the gloomy bottom 
 of the deep, can have no great occasion for 
 them. Eyes would be unnecessary to crea- 
 tures whose food is usually concealed in the 
 darkest places; and who, possessed of very 
 little motion, are obliged to grope for what 
 they subsist on. To such, 1 say, eyes would 
 rather be an obstruction than an advantage ; 
 and, perhaps, even those that live upon land 
 are without them. 
 
 Those that have seen the shells of sea- 
 snails, need not be told, that the animal which 
 produces them is larger than those of the 
 same denomination upon land. The sea 
 seems to have the property of enlarging the 
 magnitude of all its inhabitants ; and the same 
 proportion that a trout bears to a shark, is 
 often seen to obtain between a shell bred upon 
 the land, and one bred in tlte ocean. Its con- 
 volutions are more numerous. The garden- 
 snail has but five turns at the most ; in the 
 sea-snail the convolutions are sometimes seen 
 amounting to Ion. 
 
 There is a difference also in the position 
 of the mouth, in the garden and the water- 
 snail. In the former, the mouth is placed 
 crosswise, as in quadrupeds; furnished with 
 jnw-bones, lips, and teeth. In most of (he 
 sea-snails, the mouth is placed longitudinally 
 in the head ; and in some obliquely, or on 
 one side. Others, of the Trochus kind, have 
 no mouth whatsoever; but are furnished with 
 a trunk, very long in some kinds and shorter 
 in others. 
 
 Snails of the Trochus kind, furnished thuo 
 with an instrument of offence, deserve our par 
 ticular attention. The trunk of the Trochu* 
 is fleshy, muscular, supple, and hollow. Its 
 extremity is bordered with a cartilage, and 
 toothed like a saw. The snails that are pro- 
 vided with this, may be considered as the pre- 
 dacious tribe among their fellows of the bot- 
 tom. They are among snails, what the tiger, 
 the eagle, or the shark is among beasts, birds, 
 or fishes. The whole race of shellrd animals 
 avoid their approach; for their hnbitations, 
 however powerfully and strongly built, though 
 never so well fortified, yield to the superior 
 force of these invaders. Though provided 
 with a thick, clumsy shell themselves, yet 
 they move with greater swiftness at the bot- 
 tom than most other shell-fish, and seize their 
 prey with greater facility. No shell so large 
 but they will boldly venture to attack; and, 
 with their piercing augre-like trunk, will 
 quickly bore it through. No efforts the other 
 animal makes can avail : it expands itself, and 
 rises to the surface : but the enemy rises with 
 it : it agaiti sinks to the bottom, but still its 
 destroyer closely adheres. In this manner 
 the carnivorous shell-fish, as some naturalists 
 call it, sticks for several days, nay weeks, to 
 5D* 
 
C86 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 its prey, until, with its trunk, it has sucked 
 out all substance, or until it drops off when 
 the other begins to putrefy. 
 
 Thus it would seem throughout nature, 
 that no animal is so well defended, but that 
 others are found capable of breaking in upon 
 its entrenchments. The garden-snail seems 
 tolerably well guarded; but the wall of its 
 shell is paper itself, in comparison with that 
 which fortifies some of the sea-snail kind. 
 Beside this thick shell, many of them are also 
 furnished with a lid, which covers the mouth 
 of the shell, and which opens and shuts at 
 the animal's pleasure. When the creature 
 hunts for food, it opens its box, gropes or 
 swims about; and, when satisfied, drops its 
 lid, and sinks to the bottom: there it might 
 besupposed to remain in perfect security; but 
 the trochus soon finds the way to break into 
 the thickest part of its enclosure, and quick- 
 ly destroys it with the most fatal industry. 
 
 Their being liable to the attacks of the 
 trochus seems to be a calamity to which 
 most of this tribe are subject. Scarce a shell 
 is met with entirely and sound to the end of 
 its convolutions; but particularly the thinnest 
 shells are the most subject to be thus invaded. 
 As their shells are easily pierced, the preda- 
 tory shell-fish, or the sea-worm, chiefly seek 
 them for subsistence ; and of those thin, 
 paper-like shells, not one in a hundred is 
 found that has not suffered some disaster. 
 As they are lighter than other shell-fish, they 
 swim with greater ease ; and this is the chief 
 method of avoiding their heavier thick-shell- 
 ed pursuers. The food of all snails properly 
 lies at the bottom ; when, therefore, the nau- 
 tilus, or other thin-shelled fish, are seen busily 
 swimming at the surface, it may be, that, in- 
 stead of sporting or sunning themselves, as 
 some are apt to suppose, they are actually la- 
 bouring to escape their most deadly pursuers. 
 
 Of all sea-snails, that which is most fre- 
 quently seen swimming upon the surface, and 
 whose shell is the thinnest and most easily 
 pierced, is the nauiilus. Whether, upon these 
 occasions, it is employed in escaping its nu- 
 merous enemies at the bottom, or seeking for 
 food at the surface, I will not venture to de- 
 cide. It seems most probable, that the for- 
 mer is the cause of its frequently appearing ; 
 for, upon opening the stomach, it is found to 
 
 contain chiefly that food which it finds at 
 the bottom. This animal's industry, there- 
 fore, may be owing to its fears : and all those 
 arts of sailing which it has taught mankind, 
 may have been originally the product of 
 necessity. But the nautilus is too famous not 
 to demand a more ample description. Al- 
 though there be several species of the nauti- 
 lus, yet they all may be divided into two: 
 the one with a white shell, as thin as paper, 
 which it is often seen to quit, and again to 
 resume ; the other with a thicker shell, some- 
 times of a beautiful mother-of-pearl colour, 
 and that quits its shell but rarely. This shell 
 outwardly resembles that of a large snail, but 
 is generally six or eight inches across: with- 
 in it is divided into forty partitions, that 
 communicate with each other by doors, if I 
 may so call them, through which one could 
 not thrust a goose-quill: almost the whole 
 internal part of the shell is filled by the ani- 
 animal ; the body of which, like its habita- 
 tion, is divided into as many parts as there 
 are chambers in its shell: all the parts of its 
 body communicate with each other, through 
 the doors or openings, by a long blood-vessel, 
 which runs from the head to the tail : thus 
 the body of the animal, if taken out of the 
 shell, may be likened to a number of soft bits 
 of flesh, of which there are forty threaded 
 upon a string. From this extraordinary con- 
 formation, one would not be apt to suppose 
 that the nautilus sometimes quitted its shell, 
 and returned to it again; yet nothing, though 
 seemingly more impossible, is more certain. 
 The manner by which it contrives to disen- 
 gage every part of its body from so intricate 
 a habitation ; by which it makes a substance 
 to appearance as thick as one's wrist, pass 
 through forty doors, each of which Avould 
 scarcely admit a goose-quill, is not yet dis- 
 covered ; but the fact it is certain ; for the 
 animal is often found without its shell ; and 
 the shell more frequently destitute of the ani- 
 mal. It is most probable, that it has a power 
 of making the substance of one section of its 
 body remove up into that which is next; and 
 thus, by multiplied removals, it gets free. 
 
 But this, though very strange, is not the 
 peculiarity for which the nautilus has been the 
 most distinguished. Its " spreading the thin 
 oar," and " catching the flying gale," to use the 
 
TESTACEOUS FISHES. 
 
 087 
 
 poet's description of it, has chiefly excited 
 human curiosity. These animals, particularly 
 those of the white, light kind, are chiefly 
 found in the Mediterranean ; and scarce any 
 who have sailed on that sea, but must often 
 have seen them. When the sea is calm, they 
 are observed floating on the surface ; some 
 spreading their little sail ; some rowing with 
 tlieir feet, as if for life and death ; and others 
 still, floating upon their mouths, like a ship 
 with the keel upward. If taken while thus 
 employed, and examined, the extraordinary 
 mechanism of their limbs for sailing will ap- 
 pear more manifest. The nautilus is furnish- 
 ed with eight feet, which issue near the 
 mouth, and may as properly be called barbs : 
 these are connected to each other by a thin 
 skin, like that between the toes of a duck, but 
 much thinner and more transparent. Of these 
 eight feet thus connected, six are sUort, and 
 these are held up as sails to catch the wind in 
 sailing : the two others are longer, and are 
 kept in the water ; serving, like paddles, to 
 steer their course by. When the weather is 
 quite calm, and the animal is pursued from 
 belo\v, it is then seen expanding only a part 
 of its sail, and rowing with the rest: whenever 
 it is interrupted, or fears danger from above, 
 it instantly furls the sail, catches in all its oars, 
 turns its shell mouth downward, and instantly 
 sinks to the bottom. Sometimes, also, it is 
 seen pumping the water from its leaking hulk ; 
 and, when unfit for sailing, deserts its shell 
 entirely. The forsaken hulk is seen floating 
 along, till it dashes, by a kind of shipwreck, 
 upon the rocks or the shore. 
 
 From the above description, I think we 
 may consider this animal rather as attempting 
 to save itself from the attacks of its destroyers, 
 than as rowing in pursuit of food. Certain 
 it is, that no creature of the deep has more 
 numerous and more powerful enemies. Its 
 shell is scarcely ever found in perfect preserva- 
 tion ; but is generally seen to bear some marks 
 of hostile invasion. Its little arts, therefore, 
 upon the surface of the water, may have been 
 given it for protection: and it may thus be 
 endued with comparative swiftness to avoid 
 the crab, the sea-scorpion, the trochus, and 
 all the slower predacious reptiles that lurk for 
 it at the bottom of the water. 
 
 From this general view of snails, they ap- 
 pear to be a much more active, animated 
 tribe, than from their figure one would at first 
 conceive. They seem to an inattentive spec- 
 tator, as mere inert masses of soft flesh, rather 
 loaded than covered with a shell, scarcely ca- 
 llable of motion, and insensible to all the ob- 
 jects around them. When viewed more close- 
 ly, they are found to be furnished with the 
 organs of life and sensation in a tolerable per- 
 fection : they are defended with armour, that 
 is at once both light and strong ; they are as 
 active as their necessities require ; and are 
 possessed of appetites more poignant than 
 those of animals that seem much more per- 
 fectly formed. In short, they are a fruitful, in- 
 dustrious tribe ; furnished, like all other ani- 
 mals, with the powers of escape and invasion ; 
 they have their pursuits and their enmities ; 
 and, of all creatures of the deep, they have 
 most to fear from each other. 
 
 CHAPTER CLV. 
 
 OF BIVALVED SHELL-FISH, OR SHELLS OF THE OYSTER KIND. 
 
 IT may seem whimsical to make a dis- 
 tinction between the animal perfections of tur- 
 binated and bivalved shell-fish ; or to grant a 
 degree of superiority to the snail above the 
 oyster. Yet this distinction strongly and ap- 
 parently obtains in nature ; and we shall find 
 the bivalved tribe of animals in every respect 
 inferior to those we have been describing. 
 
 Inferior in all their sensations ; inferior in 
 their powers of motion ; but particularly infe- 
 rior in their system of animal generation. 
 The snail tribe, as we saw, are hermaphrodite, 
 but require the assistance of each other for fe- 
 cundation ; all the bivalve tribe are hermaphro- 
 dite in like manner, but they require no 
 assistance from each other towards impregna- 
 
683 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 tiou ; anJ a single muscle or oyster, if there 
 were no other in the world, would quickly 
 replenish the ocean. As the land-snail, from 
 its being best known, took the lead in the 
 former class, so the fresh-water muscle, for 
 the same reason, may take lead in this. The 
 life and manners of such as belong to the sea 
 will be best displayed in the comparison. 
 
 The muscle, as is well known, whether 
 belonging to fresh or salt-water, consists of 
 two equal shells, joined at the back by a 
 strong, muscular ligament, that answers all 
 the purposes of a hinge. By the elastic con- 
 traction of these the animal can open its shell 
 at pleasure, about a quarter of an inch from 
 each other. The fish is fixed to either shell 
 by four tendons, by means of which it shuts 
 them close, and keeps its body firm from 
 being crushed by any shock against the walls 
 of its own habitation. It is furnished, like all 
 other animals of this kind, with vital organs, 
 though these are situated in a very extraor- 
 dinary manner. It has a mouth furnished 
 with two fleshy lips; its intestine begins at 
 the bottom of the mouth, passes through the 
 brain, and makes a number of circumvolutions 
 through the liver; on leaving this organ, it 
 goes on straight into the heart, which it pe- 
 netrates, and ends in the anus ; near which 
 the lungs are placed, and through which it 
 breaths, like those of the snail kind; and in 
 this manner its languid circulation is carried 
 on. 
 
 But the organs of generation are what most 
 deserve to excite our curiosity. These con- 
 sist in each muscle of two ovaries, which are 
 the female part of its furniture, and of two se- 
 minal vessels, resembling what are found in 
 the male. Each ovary and each seminal ves- 
 sel, has its own proper canal ; by the ovary- 
 canal the eggs descend to the anus ; and there, 
 also, the seminal canals send their fluids to 
 impregnate them. By this contrivance, one 
 single animal suffices for the double purposes 
 of generation ; and the eggs are excluded and 
 impregnated by itself alone. 
 
 As the muscle is thus furnished with a kind 
 of self-creating power, there are few places 
 where it breeds, that it is not found in great 
 abundance. The ovaries usually empty them- 
 
 M. Mery. Anat, de Moules d'Etang. 
 
 selves of their eggs in spring, and they are 
 replenished in autumn^ For this reason they 
 are found empty in summer and full in winter. 
 They produce in great numbers, as all bival- 
 ved shell-fish are found to do. The fecun- 
 dity of the snail kind is trifling in comparison 
 to the fertility of these. Indeed it may be as- 
 serted as a general rale in nature, that the 
 more helpless and contemptible tlie animal, 
 the more prolific it is always found. Thus 
 all creatures that are incapable of resisting 
 their destroyers, have nothing but their quick 
 multiplication, for the continuation of their 
 existence. 
 
 The multitude of these animals in some 
 places is very great; but, from their defence- 
 less state, the number of their destroyers are 
 in equal proportion. The crab, the cray-fish, 
 and many other animals, are seen to devour 
 them ; but the trochus is their most formidable 
 enemy. When their shells are found deserted, 
 if we then obserre closely, it is most proba- 
 ble we shall find that the trochus has been 
 at work in piercing them. There is scarce 
 one of them without a hole in it; and this 
 probably was the avenue by which the ene- 
 my entered to destroy the inhabitant. 
 
 But notwithstanding the number of this 
 creature's animated enemies, it seems still 
 more fearful of the agitations of the element 
 in which it resides; for if dashed against rocks, 
 or thrown far on the beach, it is destroyed 
 without a power of redress. In order to guard 
 against these, which are to this animal the 
 commonest and the most fatal accidents, al- 
 though it has a power of slow motion, which 
 I shall presently describe, yet it endeavours 
 to become stationary, and to attach itself to 
 any fixed object it happens to be near. For 
 this purpose, it is furnished with a very sin- 
 gular capacity of binding itself by a number 
 of threads to whatever object it approaches ; 
 and these Reaumur supposed it spun artifi- 
 cially, as spiders their webs which they 
 fasten against a wall. Of this, however, later 
 philosophers have found very great reason 
 to doubt. It is therefore supposed that these 
 threads, which are usually called the beard 
 of the muscle, are the natural growth of the 
 animal's body, and by no means produced at 
 pleasure. Indeed, the extreme length of this 
 beard in some, which far exceeds the length 
 
TESTACEOUS FISHES. 
 
 (589 
 
 of the body, seems impossible to be manufac- 
 tured by the thrusting out and drawing in of 
 the tongue, with the glutinous matter of which 
 the French philosopher supposed those threads 
 were formed. It is even found to increase 
 with the growth of the anim >1 ; and as the 
 muscle becomes larger and older, the beard 
 becomes longer and its filaments more strong." 
 Be this as it will, nothing is more certain than 
 that the muscle is found attached by these 
 threads to every fixed object; sometimes, 
 indeed, for want of such an object, these 
 animals are found united to each other; 
 and though thrown into a lake separately, 
 they are taken out in bunches of many to- 
 gether. 
 
 To have some fixed resting place where the 
 muscle can continue, and take in its acciden- 
 tal food, seems the state that this animal chief- 
 ly desires. Its instrument of motion, by which 
 it contrives to reach the object it wants to 
 bind itself to, is that muscular substance re- 
 sembling a tongue, which is found long in 
 proportion to the size of the muscle. In 
 some it is two inches long, in others not a 
 third part of these dimensions. This the ani- 
 mal has a power of thrusting out of its shell ; 
 and with this it is capable of making a slight 
 furrow in the sand at the bottom. By means 
 of this furrow it can erect itself upon the edge 
 of its shell ; and thus continuing to make the 
 furrow in proportion as it goes forward, it 
 reaches out its tongue, that answers the pur- 
 pose of an arm, and thus carries its shell edge- 
 ways, as in agroove, until it reaches the point 
 intended. There, where it determines to take 
 up its residence, it fixes the ends of its beard, 
 which are glutinous, to the rock or the object, 
 whatever it be; and thus, like a ship at anchor, 
 braves all the agitations of the water. Some- 
 times the animal is attached by a large num- 
 ber of threads ; sometimes but by three or 
 four, that seem scarce able to retain it. When 
 the muscle is fixed in this manner, it lives 
 upon the little earthy particles that the water 
 transports to its shells, and perhaps the flesh 
 of the most diminutive animals. However, it 
 does not fail to grow considerably ; and some 
 of this kind have been found a foot long. I 
 have seen the beards a foot and a half; and 
 
 Mercier du Paty,sur le bouchots & moules. Tom. ii. 
 1' Academic de la Rochelle. 
 
 of this substance the natives of Palermo some- 
 times make gloves and stockings. 
 
 These shell-fish are found in lakes, rivers, 
 and in the sea. Those of the lake often grow 
 to a very large size ; but they seem a solitary 
 animal, and are found generally separate from 
 each other. Those of rivers are not so large, 
 but yet in greater abundance ; but the sea- 
 muscle of all others is perhaps the most plenty. 
 These are often bred artificially in salt-water 
 marshes that are overflowed by the tide ; the 
 fishermen throwing them in at the proper sea- 
 sons ; and there being undisturbed by the 
 agitations of the sea, and not preyed upon by 
 their powerful enemies at the bottom, they cast 
 their eggs, which soon become perfect animals, 
 and these are generally found in clusters ol 
 several dozens together. It requires a year 
 for the peopling a muscle bed ; so (hat, if the 
 number consists of forty thousand, a tenth 
 part may annually be left for the peopling 
 the bed anew. Muscles are taken from 
 their beds from the month of July to Octo- 
 ber ; and they are sold at a very moderate 
 price. 
 
 From this animal the oyster differs very 
 little, except in the thickness of its shell, and 
 its greater imbecility. The oyster, like the 
 muscle, is formed with organs of life and res- 
 piration, with intestines which are very volu- 
 minous, and liver, lungs, and heart. Like the 
 muscle, it is self-impregnated ; and the shell, 
 which the animal soon acquires, serves it for 
 its future habitation. Like the muscle, it 
 opens its shell to receive the influx of water ; 
 and like that animal is strongly attached to its 
 shells both above and below. 
 
 But it differs in many particulars. In the 
 first place its shells are not equal, the one be- 
 ing cupped, the other flat ; upon the cupped 
 shell it is always seen to rest ; for if it lay upon 
 the flat side it would then lose all its water. 
 It differs also in the thickness of its shells, 
 which are so strongly lined and defended, that 
 no animal will attempt to pierce them. But 
 though the oyster be secured from the attacks 
 of the small reptiles at the bottom, yet it often 
 serves as an object to which they are attached. 
 Pipe-worms, and other little animals, fix their 
 habitation to the oyster's sides, and in this 
 manner continue to live in security. Among 
 the number of these is a little red worm, that 
 is often found upon the shell ; which some, 
 
690 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 from never seeing oysters copulate, erroneous- 
 ly supposed to be the male by which their 
 spawn was impregnated. 
 
 The oyster differs also from the muscle in 
 being utterly unable to change its situation. 
 The muscle, as we have observed, is capa- 
 ble of erecting itself on an edge, and going 
 forward with a slow laborious motion. The 
 oyster is wholly passive, and endeavours by 
 all its powers to rest fixed to one spot at the 
 bottom. It is entirely without that tongue 
 which we saw answering the purposes of an 
 arm in the other animal ; but nevertheless 
 is often attached very firmly to any object it 
 happens to approach. Rocks, stones, pieces 
 of timber, or sea-weeds, all seem proper to 
 give it a fixture, and to secure it against the 
 agitation of the waves. Nothing so common 
 in the rivers of the tropical climates as to see 
 oysters growing even amidst the branches of 
 the forest.. Many trees which grow along the 
 banks of the stream often bend their branches 
 into the water, and particularly the mangrove, 
 which chielly delights in a moist situation. 
 To these the oysters hang in clusters, like 
 apples upon the most fertile tree ; and in pro- 
 portion as the weight of the fish sinks the 
 plant into the water, where it still continues 
 growing, the number of oysters increase, and 
 hang upon the branches. Thus there is no- 
 thing that these shell-fish will not stick to; 
 they are often even found to stick to each 
 other. This is effected by means of a glue 
 proper to themselves, which, when it cements, 
 the joining is as hard as the shell, and is as 
 difficultly broken. The joining substance, 
 however, is not always of glue ; but the ani- 
 mal grows to the rocks, somewhat like the 
 muscle, by threads ; although these are only 
 seen to take root in the shell, and not, as in 
 the muscle, to spring from the body of the fish 
 itself. 
 
 Oysters usually cast their spawn in May, 
 which at first appear like drops of candle- 
 grease, and stick to any hard substance they 
 fall upon. These are covered with a shell in 
 two or three days ; and in three years the ani- 
 mal is large enough to be brought to market. 
 As they invariably remain in the places where 
 they are laid, and as they grow without any 
 other seeming food than the afflux of sea- 
 water, it is the custom at Colchester, and 
 other parts of the kingdom, where the tide 
 
 ! settles in marshes on land, to pick up great 
 quantities of small oysters along the shore, 
 which, when first gathered, seldom exceed the 
 size of a sixpence. These are deposited in 
 beds where the tide comes in, and in two or 
 three years grow to a tolerable size. They 
 are said to be better tasted for being thus 
 sheltered from the agitations of the deep : and 
 a mixture of fresh water entering into these 
 repositories, is said to improve their flavour, 
 and to increase their growth and fatness. 
 
 The oysters, however, which are prepared 
 in this manner, are by no means so large as 
 those found sticking to rocks at the bottom of 
 the sea, usually called rock-oysters. These are 
 sometimes found as broad as a plate, and are 
 admired by some as excellent food. But 
 what is the size of these compared to the oys- 
 ters of the East Indies, some of whose shells I 
 have seen two feet over ! The oysters found 
 along the coast of Coromandel are capable of 
 furnishing a plentiful meal to eight or ten men; 
 but it seems universally agreed that they are 
 no way comparable to ours for delicacy or 
 flavour. 
 
 Thus the muscle and the oyster appear to 
 have but few distinctions, except in their shape, 
 and the power of motion in the former. 
 Other bivalved shell-fish, such as the cockle, 
 the scallop, and the razor-shell, have differ- 
 ences equally minute. The power of chang- 
 ing place, which some of them effect in a 
 manner quite peculiar to themselves, makes 
 their greatest difference. The scallop is par- 
 ticularly remarkable for its method of moving 
 forward upon land, or swimming upon the 
 surface of the water. When this animal finds 
 itself deserted by the tide, it makes very re- 
 markable efforts to regain the water, moving 
 towards the sea in a most singular manner. 
 It first gapes with its shell as widely as it can, 
 the edges being often an inch asunder ; then 
 it shuts them with a jerk, and by this the 
 whole animal rises five or six inches from the 
 ground. It thus tumbles any how forward, 
 and then renews the operation until it has at- 
 tained its journey's end. When in the water 
 it is capable of supporting itself upon the sur- 
 face ; and there opening and shutting its shells, 
 it tumbles over and over, and makes its way 
 with some celerity. 
 
 The Pivot, or Razor-shell, has a very dif- 
 ferent kind of motion. As the former moves 
 
TESTACEOUS FISHES. 
 
 691 
 
 laboriously and slowly forward, so the razor- 
 shell h-is only a power of sinking point down- 
 ward. The shells of (his animal resemble no- 
 thing so much as the haft of a razor ; and by 
 this form it is better enabled to dive into the 
 soft sand at the bottom. All the motions of 
 this little animal are confined to sinking or 
 rising a foot downwards or upwards in the 
 sand, for it never leaves the spot where first 
 it was planted. From time to time it is seen 
 to rise about half way out of its hole ; but if 
 any way disturbed, it sinks perpendicularly 
 down again. Just over the place where the 
 razor buries itself, there is a small hole like a 
 chimney, through which the animal breaths, 
 or imbibes the sea-water. Ujton the deser- 
 tion of the tide, these holes are easily distin- 
 guished by the fishermen who seek for it ; and 
 their method of enticing the razor up from the 
 depth of its retreat is by sprinkling a little sea- 
 salt upon the hole. This, melting, no sooner 
 reaches the razor below than it rises instantly 
 straight upwards, and shows about half its 
 length above the surface. This appearance, 
 however, is instantaneous ; and if the fisher 
 does not seize the opportunity, the razor buries 
 itself with great ease to its former depth. 
 There it continues secure ; no salt can allure 
 it a second time ; but it remains unmolested, 
 unless the fisher will be at the trouble of dig- 
 ging it out sometimes two feet below the sur- 
 lace. 
 
 Such are the minute differences between 
 bivalved shell-fish ; but in the great outlines 
 of their nature they exactly resemble each 
 other. It is particularly in this class of shell- 
 fish that pearls are fo-nv! in great abundance; 
 aii'l it is in the internal parts of those shells 
 tint are of a shining silvery colour that these 
 gp'ris vire usually generated ; but the pearl is 
 also found to breed as well in the muscle or 
 the se illop ;is in the oyster. In fact, it is found 
 in all bivalved shells, the insides of which re- 
 semble that well known substance called 
 mother-of-pearl. 
 
 Whether pearls be a disease or an accident 
 in th" animal is scarcely worthy inquiry. The 
 corn non opinion is, that they are a kind of 
 calculus concr<'ti.>i) in tin- body of the animal, 
 some \hat resembling a stone in the bladder, 
 and are consequently to be considered as a 
 disorder. It is said, in confirmation of this 
 opinion, that those coasts upon which pearls 
 
 NO. 59 & 60. 
 
 are fished, are very unhealthy ; and therefore 
 most probably oysters share the general in- 
 fluence of the climate ; it is also added, that 
 those oysters in which pearls are found are 
 always ill-tasted, which is a sign of their be- 
 ing unsound ; and lastly, it is asserted that the 
 pearl grows sometimes so big as to keep the 
 shells of the animal from shutting, and that 
 thus it dies by being exposed. It is easy to 
 see the weakness of these assertions, which 
 seem neither true nor amusing. To answer 
 them in their own way : If a stone in the 
 bladder be a disorder, a stone in the stomach 
 of an ostrich is a benefit, and so it may be in 
 the shell of an oyster. If the shores where the 
 pearls are fished be unwholesome to man, that, 
 instead of being disadvantageous, is so much 
 the more lucky for the oyster. If the pearl 
 oysters are the worst tasted, so are kites and 
 ravens among birds ; and yet we know that 
 they are healthy and long-lived animals : if 
 the oyster had ever its shell kept asunder by 
 the pearl within it, that would be a disease 
 indeed : but this, in reality, never happens ; 
 for the oyster that breeds a large pearl always 
 breeds a large shell, and the shell itself indents 
 to receive its impression. The pearl upon the 
 whole seems bred from no disorder in the ani- 
 mal, but accidentally produced by the same 
 matter that goes to form the shell. The sub- 
 stance, which is soft at first, quickly hardens; 
 and thus, bv successive coats, layer over layer, 
 the pearl acquires its dimensions. If cut 
 through it will be found to consist of several 
 coats, like an onion; and sometimes a small 
 speck is seen in the middle, upon which the 
 coats were originally formed. 
 
 All oysters, and most shell fish, are found 
 to contain pearls ; but that which particularly 
 obtains the name of the pearl oyster, has a 
 large strong whitish shell, wrinkled and rough 
 uithout, and within smooth and of a silver 
 colour. From these the mother-of-pearl is 
 taken, which is nothing more than the inter- 
 nal coats of the shell, resembling the pearl in 
 colour and consistence. This is taken out 
 and shaped into the variety of utensils which 
 are found so beautiful, but the pearl itself is 
 chiefly prized; being found but in few oysters, 
 and generally adhering, sometimes making a 
 print in the body of the shell, sometimes at 
 large within the substance of the fish. 
 
 There are a great number of pearl fisheries 
 
692 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 in America and Asia ; but as pearls bear a 
 worse price than formerly, those of America 
 are in a great measure discontinued. The 
 most famous of all the Asiatic fisheries is in 
 the Persian Gulf, near the Isle of Bahren. 
 There is another between the coast of Madura 
 and the Island of Ceylon ; and there was a 
 third on the coasts of Japan: but as these 
 noble islanders have a contempt for jewels, 
 and an abhorrence for such Europeans as 
 come in pursuit of them, that fishery, which 
 is thought to be the most valuable of all others, 
 is discontinued. The diving business is now 
 carried on only in those countries where the 
 wretchedness of one part of mankind goes to 
 support the magnificence of the other. 
 
 The chief fishery, as was said, is carried 
 on in the Persian Gulf, and the most valuable 
 pearls are brought from thence. The value 
 of these jewels increases not only in propor- 
 tion to their size, but also their figure and 
 colour; for some pearls are white, others are 
 yellowish, others of a lead colour; and some 
 affirm they have been found as black as jet. 
 What it is that gives these different tinctures 
 to pearls is not known; Taverner ascribes it 
 to their lying two or three weeks upon shore 
 after the oyster is taken; Reaumur thinks it 
 proceeds from the colour of that part of the 
 fish's body upon which the pearl lies. It is 
 most probable that this colour proceeds, like 
 the spots frequently found on the internal sur- 
 face of the shell itself, from some accident 
 while the pearl is growing 
 
 The begt coloured pearls, and the roundest, 
 are brought from the East; those of America 
 are neither so white nor so exactly oval. All 
 pearls, however, in time become yellow ; they 
 may be considered as an animal substance 
 converted into a stony hardness, and like ivo- 
 ry taking ;\ tincture from the air. They have 
 been even found to decay when in damp or 
 vaulted places,and to moulderintoa substance 
 scarce harder than chalk. When the daugh- 
 ters of Stilicon, who were both betrothed, one 
 after the other, to the emperor Honorius, were 
 buried, much of their finery was also deposit- 
 ed with them, in the same tomb. In this man- 
 ner they remained buried for above eleven 
 hundred years, till the foundations of the 
 church of St. Peter were Hying. Their tomb 
 was tli^n discovered, and all their finery was 
 
 found in tolerable preservation except their 
 pearls, which were converted by time and 
 damps into a chalky powder. 
 
 The wretched people that are destined to 
 fish for pearls, are either Negroes or some of 
 the poorest of the natives of Persia. The in- 
 habitants of this country are divided into ty- 
 rants and slaves. The divers are not only 
 subject to the dangers of the deep, to tem- 
 pests, to suffocation at the bottom, to being 
 devoured by sharks, but from their profession 
 universally labour under a spitting of blood, 
 occasioned by the pressure of air upon their 
 lungs in going down to the bottom. The 
 most robust and healthy young men are cho- 
 srn for this employment, but they seldom sur- 
 vive it above five or six years. Their fibres 
 become rigid ; their eye-balls turn red; and. 
 they usually die consumptive. 
 
 It is amazing how very long 
 seen to continue at the bottom. 
 
 they 
 Some 
 
 are 
 , as 
 
 we are assured, have been known to con- 
 tinue three quarters of an hour under wa- 
 ter without breathing; and to one unused 
 to diving, ten minutes would suffocate the 
 strongest. Whether from some effort the 
 blood bursts the old passage which it had in 
 the fetus, and circulates without going through 
 the lungs, it is not easy to tell; but certain it 
 is that some bodies have been dissected with 
 this canal of communication open, and these 
 extraordinary divers may be internally formed 
 in that manner. 
 
 Be this as it may, no way of life seems so 
 laborious, so dangerous, or so painful. They 
 fish for pearls, or rather the oysters that con- 
 tain them, in boats twenty-eight feet long; 
 and of these there are sometimes three or 
 four hundred at a time, with each seven or 
 eight stones, which serve for anchors. There 
 are from five to eight divers belonging to each, 
 that dive one after another. They are quite 
 nakfd, except that they have a net hanging 
 down from the neck to put their oysters in, 
 and gloves on their hands to defend them 
 while they pick the oysters from the holes in 
 the rocks; for in this manner alone can they 
 be gathered. Every diver is sunk by means 
 of a stone, weighing fifty pounds, tied to the 
 rope by which he descends. He places his 
 foot in a kind of stirrup, and laying hold of 
 the rope with his left hand, with his right lw> 
 
TESTACEOUS FISHES. 
 
 603 
 
 stops his nose to keep in his breath, as upon 
 going down he takes in a very long inspira- 
 tion. They are no sooner come to the bot- 
 tom, but they give the signal to those who 
 are in the boat to draw up the stone; which 
 done, they go to work, filling their net as fast 
 as they can; and then giving another signal, 
 the boats above pull up the net loaded with 
 oysters, and shortly after the diver himself 
 to take a new inspiration. They dive to the 
 depth of fifteen fathoms, and seldom go deeper. 
 They generally go every morning by break 
 of day to this fatiguing employment, taking 
 the land wind to waft them out to sea, and 
 
 returning with the sea-breeze at night. The 
 owners of the boats usually hire the divers, 
 and the rest of the boats crew, as we do our 
 labourers, at so much a day. All the oysters 
 are brought on shore, where they are laid in 
 a great heap, till the pearl fishery is over, 
 which continues during the months of No- 
 vember and December. When opportunity 
 serves, they then examine every oyster, and it 
 is accidental whether the capture turns out ad- 
 vantageous. Indeed no human being can wish 
 well to a commerce, which thus chains such a 
 number of fellow creatures to the bottom, to 
 pluck up a glittering, mouldering pebble. 
 
 CHAPTER CJLVI. 
 
 OF MULTIVALVE SHELL-FISH. 
 
 MULTIVALVE SHELL-FISH may be 
 
 considered as animals shut up in round boxes. 
 To view their habitations externally, one 
 would be little apt to consider them as the re- 
 treats of living creatures; and still less, to 
 suppose that some of them carry their boxes 
 with a tolerable share of swiftness, so as to 
 escape their pursuers. Of these there are 
 principally two kinds ; such as move, and 
 such as are stationary : the first are usually 
 known in our cabinets by the name of Sea- 
 eggs ; the others are as often admired, from 
 the cavities which they scoop out for their 
 habitation in the hardest marble. The first 
 are called, by naturalists, Echini, or Urchins: 
 the latler are called Pholades, or File-fish. 
 Of both there are several sorts; but, by de- 
 scribing these two, we shall have a competent 
 idea of all the rest. 
 
 To a slight view, the sea urchin may be 
 compared to the husk of a chesnut ; being 
 like it round, and with a number of bony 
 prickles standing out on every side. To ex- 
 hibit this extraordinary animal in every light, 
 if we could conceive a turnip stuck full of pins 
 on every side, and running upon these pins 
 with some degree of swiftness, we should 
 have some idea of this extraordinary creature. 
 The mouth is placed downwards ; the vent is 
 
 above ; the shell is a hollow vase, resembling 
 a scooped apple ; and this filled wilh a soft 
 muscular substance, through which the intes- 
 tines wind from the bottom to the top. The 
 mouth, which is placed undermost, is large 
 and red, furnished with five sharp teeth, which 
 are easily discerned. The jaws are strength- 
 ened by five small bones, in the centre of 
 which is a small fleshy tongue ; and from this 
 the intestines make a winding of five spires 
 round the internal sides of the shell, ending at 
 top, where the excrements arc excluded. 
 But what makes the most extraordinary part 
 of this animal's conformation, are its horns 
 and its spines, that point from every part of 
 the body, like (he horns of a snail, and that 
 serve at once as legs to move upon, as arms 
 to feel with, and as instruments of capture and 
 defence. Between these herns it has also 
 spines that are not endued with such a share 
 of motion. The spines and the horns issue 
 from every part of the body ; the spines being 
 hard and prickly ; the horns being soft, longer 
 than the spines, and never seen except in (he 
 water. They are put forward and withdrawn 
 like the horns of a snail, and are hid at the 
 bases of the spines, serving, as was said before, 
 for procuring food and motion. All this ap- 
 paratus, however, is only seen when the ani 
 
 5 fc 
 
694 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 mal is hunting its prey at the bottom of the i 
 water ; for a few minutes after it is taken, all 
 the horns are withdrawn into the body, and 
 most of the spines drop off. 
 
 It is generally said of the insects, that those 
 which have the greatest number of legs, 
 always move the slowest : but this animal 
 seems to be an exception to the rule ; for 
 though furnished with two thousand spines, 
 and twelve hundred horns, all serving for leg?, 
 and from their number seeming to impede 
 each other's motion, yet it runs with some 
 share of swiftness at the bottom, and it is 
 sometimes no easy matter to overtake it. It 
 is often taken upon the ebb, by following it in 
 shallow water, either in an osier basket, or 
 simply with the hand. Both the spines and 
 the horns assist its motion ; and the anima! 
 is usually seen running with the mouth down- 
 ward. 
 
 Some kinds of this animal are as good eat- 
 ing as the lobster ; and its eggs, which are of 
 a deep red, are considered as a very great 
 delicacy. But of others the taste is but indif- 
 ferent ; and in ail places, except the Mediter- 
 ranean, they are little sought for, except as 
 objects of curiosity. 
 
 Very different in motion, though not much 
 different in shape from these, are the Acorn 
 Shell-Fish, the Thumb-footed Shell-Fish, and 
 the Imaginary Barnacle. These are fixed to 
 one spot, and appear to vegetate from a stalk. 
 Indeed, to an inattentivespectator, each actually 
 seems to be a kind of fungus that grows in the 
 deep, destitute of animal life as well as motion. 
 But the inquirer will soon change his opinion, 
 when he comes to observe this mushroorn- 
 Jike figure more minutely. He will then see 
 that the animal residing within the shell has 
 not only life, but some degree of voracious- 
 ness ; that it has a cover, by which it opens 
 and shuts its shell at pleasure ; that it has 
 twelve long crooked arms, furnished with hair, 
 which it thrusts forth for its prey ; and eight 
 smaller, which are generally kept in the shell. 
 These are seen adhering to every substance 
 that 7= to be met with in the ocean ; rocks, 
 ro-'ts of trees, ships' bottoms, whales, lob- 
 sters, and even crabs, like bunches of 
 grapes, clung to each other. It is amusing 
 
 a Anderson's History pf Greenland. 
 
 enough to behold their operations/ They 
 for some time remain motionless within their 
 shell; but when the sea is calm, they art seen 
 opening the lid, and peeping about them. 
 They then thrust out their long neck, look 
 round them for some time, and then abruptly 
 retreat back into their box, shut their lid, and 
 lurk in darkness and security, Some people 
 eat them ; but they are in no great repute at 
 the tables of the luxurious, v\ here their de- 
 formed figure would be no objection to their 
 being introduced. 
 
 Of all animals of the shelly trihr, the Pho- 
 lades are the most wonderful. From their 
 great powers of penetration, compared with 
 their apparent imbecility, they justly excite 
 the astonishment of the curious observer. 
 These animals are found to different places; 
 sometimes clothed in their proper shell, at the 
 bottom of the water ; sometimes concealed in 
 lumps of marly earth; and sometimes lodged, 
 shell and all, in the body of the hardest it ar- 
 ble. In their proper shell they assume dif- 
 ferent figures ; but, in general, they somewhat 
 resemble a muscle, except that their shell is 
 found actually composed of five or more 
 pieces, the smaller valves serving to close up 
 the opening left by the irregular meeting 
 of two principal shells. But their pene- 
 tration into rocks and their residence there, 1 
 makes up the most wonderful part of their rnV 
 tory. 
 
 This animal, when divested of its shell, 
 resembles a roundish soft pudding, with i o 
 instrument that seems in ihe least fitted for 
 boring into stones, or even penetrating the 
 softest substances. It is furnished with two 
 teeth indeed ; but these are placed in such a 
 situation as to be incapable of touching the 
 hollow surface of its stony dwelling : it has 
 also two covers to its shell, that open and shut 
 at either end ; but these are totally unservice- 
 able to it as a miner. The instrument \\ith 
 which it performs all its operations, and buries 
 itself in the hardest rocks, is only a broad 
 fleshy substance, somewhat resembling a 
 tongue, that is seen issuing from the bottom 
 of its shell. With this soft, yielding instru- 
 ment, it perforates the most solid marbles; 
 and havina, while yet little and young, made 
 its way, by a very narrow entrance, into 
 the substance of the stone, it then begins to 
 
TESTACEOUS FISHES. 
 
 695 
 
 grow bigger, and thus to enlarge its apart- 
 ment. 
 
 The seeming uafitness, however, of this 
 animal for penetrating into rocks, and there 
 forming an habitation, has induced many 
 philosophers to suppose that they entered 
 the rock while it was yet in a soft state, and 
 from the petrifying quality of the water, that 
 the whole rock afterwards hardened round 
 them by degrees. Thus any penetrating 
 quality, it was thought, was unjustly ascribed 
 to them, as they only bored into a soft sub- 
 stance, that was hardened by time. This 
 opinion, however, has been confuted, in a 
 very satisfactory manner, by Doctor Bohads, 
 who observed, that many of the pillars of the 
 temple of Serapis at Puteoli were penetrated 
 by these animals. From thence he very 
 jnsily concludes, that the pholas must have 
 pierced into them since they were erected ; 
 for no workmen would have laboured a pillar 
 into form, if it had been honey-combed by 
 worms in the quarry. In short, there can be 
 no doubt but that the pillars were perfectly 
 sound when erected ; and that the pholades 
 have attacked them, during that time in 
 which they continued buried under water. 
 by means of the earthquake that swallowed 
 up the city." 
 
 From hence it appears, that, in all nature, 
 there is not a greater instanceof perseverance 
 and patience than what this animal is seen 
 to exhibit. Furnished with the bluntest and 
 softest auger, by slow successive applications, 
 it effects what other animals arc incapable of 
 performing by force; penetrating the hardest 
 bo lies only with its tongue. When, while 
 yet naked and very small, it has effected an 
 entrance, and has buried its body in the 
 stone, it there continues for life at its ease; 
 the sea-water that enters at the little aper- 
 ture supplying it with luxurious plenty. 
 When the animal has taken too great a quan- 
 tity of water, it is seen to spurt it out of its 
 hole with some violence. Upon this seem- 
 ingly thin diet, it quickly grows larger, and 
 soon finds itself inder a necessity of enlarg- 
 ing its habitation and its shell The motion 
 of the pholas is slow beyond conception; its 
 
 Bohadsch de Animalibus Marinis, p. 153, 
 
 progress keeps pace with the growth of its 
 body; and, in proportion as it becomes lar- 
 ger, it makes its way farther into the rock. 
 When it has got a certain way in, it then 
 turns from its former direction, and hollows 
 downward ; till, at last, when its habitation 
 is completed, the whole apartment resembles 
 the hole of a tobacco pipe ; the hole in the 
 shank being that by which the animal enter- 
 ed. 
 
 Thus immured, the pholas lives in dark- 
 ness, indolence, and plenty; it never removes 
 from the narrow mansion into which it has 
 penetrated ; and seems perfectly content 
 with being enclosed in its own sepulchre. 
 The influx of the sea-water, that enters by its 
 little gallery, satisfies all its wants; and, with- 
 out any other food, it is found to grow from 
 seven to eight inches long, and thick in pro- 
 portion. 
 
 But they are not supplied only with their 
 rocky habitation; they have also a shell to 
 protect them : this shell grows upon them in 
 the body of the rock, and seems a very un- 
 necessary addition to their defence, which 
 they have procured themselves by art. 
 These shells take different forms, and are 
 often composed of a different number of 
 valves: sometimes six ; sometimes but three; 
 sometimes the shell resembles a tube with 
 holes at either end, one for the mouth, and 
 the other for voiding the excrements. 
 
 Yet the pholas, thus shut up, is not so soli- 
 tary an animal as it would at first appear ; for 
 though it is immured in its hole without egress, 
 though it is impossible for the animal, grown 
 to a great size, to get out by the way it made 
 in, yet many of this kind often meet in the 
 heart of the rock, and, like miners in a siege, 
 who sometimes cross each other's galleries, 
 they frequently break in upon each other's 
 retreats. Whether their thus meeting be the 
 work of accident or of choice, few can take 
 upon them to determine : certain it is, they 
 are most commonly found in numbers in 
 the same rock ; and sometimes above twenty 
 are discovered within a few inches of each 
 other. 
 
 A to the rest, this animnl is found in 
 greaiest numbers at Ancona. in Italy ; il is 
 found along the shores of Normandy and 
 
696 
 
 A HISTORY OF TESTACEOUS FISHES. 
 
 Poitou, in France ; it is found also upon some 
 of the coasts of Scotland: and, in general, is 
 
 8 Must of these animals contain a phosphorescent fluid, 
 of great splendour and brilliancy in the dark, and which 
 illuminates whatever it touches, or happens to fall upon. 
 They are generally on rocky shores, with a bed of sand, 
 
 considered as a very great delicacy at the 
 tables of the luxurious.* 
 
 just below high water mark, with their heads a little lifted 
 above the surface, by which they may be easily drawn 
 from their holes. 
 
A HISTORY OF THE FROG KIND. 
 
 697 
 
 OF 
 
 OF FROGS AND TOADS. 
 
 CHAPTER CLVII. 
 
 OF FROGS AND TOADS IN GENERAL. 
 
 IF we emerge from the deep, the first and 
 most obvious class of amphibious animals that 
 occur upon land are frogs and toads. These, 
 wherever they reside, seem equally adapted 
 for living upon land and in the water, having 
 their hearts formed in such a 'Manner as to 
 dispense with the assistance of the lungs in 
 carrying on the circulation. The frog and 
 the toad therefore can live several days under 
 water, without any danger of suffocation ; 
 th-'y want but little air at the bottom; and 
 what is wanting is supplied by lungs, like 
 bladders, which are generally distended with 
 wind, and a iswer all the purposes of a reser- 
 voir from whence to breath. 
 
 To describe the form of animals so well 
 known would be superfluous; to murk those 
 differences that distinguish them from each 
 other may be necessary. The frog moves by 
 
 leaping ; the toad crawls along the ground : 
 the frog is in general less than the toad, its 
 colour is brighter, and with a more polished 
 surface ; the toad is brown, rough, and dusty. 
 The frog is light and active, and its belrjr 
 comparatively small ; the toad is slow, swol- 
 len, and incapable of escaping. The frogj 
 when taken, contracts itself so as to have a 
 lump on its back; the toad's back is straight 
 and even. Their internal parts are nearly 
 the same, except that the lunsof the toad are 
 more compact than those of the frog ; they 
 have fewer air-bladders, and of consequence 
 the animal is less fitted for living under water. 
 Such are the differences with respect to figure 
 and conformation ; their habitudes and man- 
 ners exhibit a greater variety, and require a 
 separate description. 
 
 CHAPTER CLVIH. 
 
 OF THE FROG, AND ITS VARIETIES. 
 
 T T IE external figure of the Frog is too \\ nature hath finely adapted Tt<? parts for those 
 
 wHI knoA'n to need a descrin'ion. Its power 
 of taking large leaps is remarkably great, 
 compared to the bulk of if body. l'i is the 
 best swimmer of all four-footed animals; and 
 
 ends, the arms being light and active, the legs 
 and thighs long, and furnished with very 
 strong mnsrles. 
 
 If we examine this animal internally, we 
 
698 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 shall find that it has a very little brain for 
 its size ; a very wide swallow ; a stomach 
 seemingly small, but capable of great disten- 
 tion. The heart in the frog, as in all other 
 animals that are truly amphibious, has but 
 one ventricle; so that the blood can circulate 
 without the assistance of the lungs, while it 
 keeps under water. The lungs resemble a 
 number of small bladders joined together, 
 like the cells of a honey-comb: they are 
 connected to the back by muscles, and can 
 be distended or exhausted at the animal's 
 pleasure. The male has two testiculi lying 
 near the kidneys ; and the female has two 
 ovaries, lying near the same place : but 
 neither male nor female have any of the ex- 
 ternal instruments of generation; the anus 
 serving for that purpose in both. Such .are 
 the most striking peculiarities in the anatomy 
 of a frog; and in these it agrees with the 
 toad, the lizard, and the serpent. They are 
 all formed internally pretty much in the same 
 manner, with spongy lungs, a simple heart, 
 and are destitute of the external instruments 
 that serve to continue the kind. 
 
 Of all those who have given histories of 
 the frog, Mr. Raesal, of Nuremberg, seems 
 the most accurate and entertaining. His 
 plates of this animal are well known ; his 
 assiduity and skilfulness in observing its 
 manners are still more deserving our esteem. 
 Instead, therefore, of following any other, I 
 will take him for my guide; and though it 
 be out of my power to amuse the reader with 
 his beautiful designs, yet there will be some 
 merit in transcribing his history. 
 
 The Common Brown Frog begins to couple 
 early in (he season, and as soon as the ice is 
 thawed from the stagnating waters. In some 
 places the cold protracts their genial appe- 
 tite till April; but it generally begins about 
 the middle of March. The male is usually 
 of a grayish brown colour; the female is 
 more inclining to yellow, speckled with 
 brown. When they couple, the colours of 
 both are nrarly alike on the back; but as they 
 change their skins almost every eighth day, 
 the old one falling off in the form of mucus, 
 the male grows yellower, and the female 
 more brown. In the males the arms and legs 
 are much stronger than in the females; and 
 at the time of coupling, they have upon their 
 
 thumbs a kind of fleshy excrescence, which 
 they fix firmly to the breast of the female. 
 This Linnaeus supposed to be the male in- 
 strument of generation; but, by closer in- 
 spection, it is tound only of service in hold- 
 ing the female in a more strict embrace. It 
 may be cut oft" and the impregnation con- 
 tinue unimpaired : it is sometimes found in 
 the opposite sex; and some of the males are 
 found entirely without it: however, when it 
 is cut off, the male cannot hold the female so 
 strongly as before. 
 
 The sex couple only once a year; and 
 then continue united sometimes for four days 
 together. At this time they both have their 
 bellies greatly swollen; that of the female 
 being filled with eggs ; the male having the 
 skin of the whole body distended with a lim- 
 pid water, which is ejected in impregnation. 
 As soon as the male has leaped upon the fe- 
 male, he throws his fore legs round her 
 breast, and closes them so firmly, that it is 
 impossible with the naked hands to loose 
 them. The male clasps his fingers between 
 each other, in the same manner as people 
 when they are praying; the thumbs press 
 with their thickest sides against the breast 
 of the female ; and though she should strug- 
 gle ever so much, nothing can induce him to 
 let go his hold. The grasp seems involuntary 
 and convulsive ; they cannot be easily torn 
 asunder; and they swim, creep, and live 
 united, for some days successively, till the 
 female has shed her spawn, which at length 
 she does almost in an instant. But how the 
 impregnation is performed, without any ap- 
 parent instruments of generation, has long 
 been an object of inquiry ; and still continues 
 in great obscurity. To investigate the diffi- 
 culty as carefully as possible, .our German 
 philosopher continued to examine their mu- 
 tual congress for three years together, and 
 availed himself of all the lights that the knife, 
 or analogy, could furnish. 
 
 After having chosen twelve couple of frogs 
 that were thus joined to each other, and 
 having placed each couple in a glass vessel 
 with water, he scarcely let them out of his 
 sight day or night, and even sat up two nights 
 together to examine their operations. The 
 first day he observed nothing that deserved 
 remark ; but the second they began to be 
 
THE FROG KIND. 
 
 68$ 
 
 agitated more than before ; the males made 
 a cioise somewhat resembling the grunting of 
 a hog; the females only keptsinking and rising 
 jnthc water. The male of the first couple eject- 
 ed the humidity with which his body was swol- 
 len, by which the water in the glass was made 
 muddy ; and he soon after quitted the female. 
 Our philosopher continued for twelve hours 
 to observe whether the female would cast 
 her spawn; but finding her tardy, he dissected 
 both her and the male: in the latter, the sper- 
 matic vessels were quite empty, as might na- 
 turally have been supposed; but, for the fe- 
 male, her spawn still remained in her body. 
 Upon its being extracted, and put into water, 
 it perished without producing any animal 
 whatever. From hence he justly concluded, 
 that it required that the eggs should be eject- 
 ed from the body of the female before they 
 could be at all prolific. In another pair the 
 male quitted the female, who did not eject 
 her spawn till sixteen days after; and these, 
 like the former, came to nothing. But it was 
 very different with some of the rest. The 
 females ejected their spawn, while the male 
 still remained in his station, and impregnated 
 the masses at different intervals as they fell 
 from her; and these all brought forth animals 
 in the usual course of generation. From 
 thee observations it was easy to infer, that 
 the female was impregnated neither by the 
 mouth, as some philosophers imagined, nor 
 bv the excroscence at the thumbs, as was the 
 opinion of Linnasns. but by the inspersion of 
 the male seminal fluid upon the eggs, as they 
 proceeded from the body. 
 
 A single female produces from six to eleven 
 hundred eggs at a time; and. in general, she 
 throws them all out together, by a single 
 effort; though sometimes she is an hour in 
 performing this task. While she is thus 
 bringing forth, it may be observed, that the 
 male acts the part of a midwife, and promotes 
 the expulsion of the eggs by working with his 
 thumbs, and compressing the female's body 
 more closely. The eggs which were com- 
 pressed in the womb, upon being emitted, 
 expand themselves into a round form, and 
 drop to the bottom of the water: while the 
 
 The tadpole is furnished with a small tube beneath 
 the lower jaw, which arts as a sucker, and by menus of 
 which it can at pleasure attach itself to the under surface of 
 
 wo. 59 & 60. 
 
 male swims off, and strikes with his arms as 
 usual, though they had continued so long in 
 a state of violent contraction. 
 
 The egg, or little black globe, which pro- 
 duces a tadpole, is surrounded with two dif- 
 ferent kinds of liquor. That which immedi- 
 ately surrounds the globe is clear and trans- 
 parent, and contained in its proper mem- 
 brane; that which surrounds the whole is 
 muddy and mucus. The transparent liquor 
 serves for the nourishment of the tadpole 
 from time to time ; and answers the same pur- 
 poses that the white of the egg does to birds. 
 The tadpoles, when this membrane is broken, 
 are found to adhere with their mouth to part 
 of it; and when they get free, they immediate- 
 ly sink to the bottom of the water, never be- 
 ing able to get to the top after, while they 
 continue in their tadpole form. 
 
 But to return When the spawn is emitted 
 and impregnated by the male, it drops, as 
 was said, to the bottom, and there the white 
 quickly and sensibly increases. The eggs, 
 which during the four first hours suffer no 
 perceptible change, begin then to enlarge 
 and grow lighter; by which means they mount 
 to the surface of the water. At the end of 
 eight hours, the white in which they swim 
 grows thicker, the eggs lose their blackness, 
 and, as they increase in size, somewhat of 
 their spherical form. The twenty-first day, 
 the egg is seen to open a little on one side, 
 and the beginning of a tail to peep out, which 
 becomes more and more distinct every day. 
 
 The thirty-ninth day the little animal begins 
 to have motion ; it moves at intervals its tail; 
 and it is perceived that the liquor in which 
 it is circumfused, serves it for nourishment. 
 In two days more, some of these little crea- 
 tures fall to the bottom; while others remain 
 swimming in the fluid around them, while 
 their vivacity and motion is seen to increase. 
 Those which fall to the bottom remain there 
 the whole day; but having lengthened them- 
 selves a little, for hitherto they are doubled 
 up, they mount at intervals to the mucus 
 which they had quitted, and are seen to feed 
 upon it with great vivacity. The next day 
 they acquire their tadpole form. 1 In three 
 
 aquatic plants : from these plants it can also suspend itself, 
 
 when very young, by a kind of glutinous thread, in the 
 
 same manner as spiders drop from the ceiling to the.grouod. 
 
 5F 
 
700 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 days more they are perceived to have two 
 little fringes, that serve as fins, beneath the 
 head ; and these, in four days after, assume 
 a more perfect form, ft is then, also, that 
 they are seen to feed very greedily upon the 
 pond-weed with which they are to he suppli- 
 ed ; and, leaving their former food, on this 
 they continue to subsist till they arrive at 
 maturity. When they come to be ninety-two 
 days old, two small feet are seen beginning 
 to bourgeon near the tail: and the head ap- 
 pears to be separate from the body. The 
 next day, the legs are considerably enlarged : 
 four days after they refuse all vegetable food; 
 their mouth appears furnished with teeth; 
 and their hinder-logs are completely formed. 
 In two days more the arms are completely 
 produced; and now the frog is everyway 
 perfect, except that it still continues to carry 
 the tail. In this odd situation the animal, re- 
 sembling at once both a frog and a lizard, is 
 seen frequently rising to the surface, not to 
 take food, but to breath. In this state it 
 continues for about six or eight hours, and 
 then, the tail dropping off by degrees, the 
 animal appears in its most perfect form. 
 
 Thus the frog, in less than a day, having 
 changed its figure, is seen to change its ap- 
 petites also. So extraordinary is this trans- 
 formation, that the food it fed upon so 
 greedily but a few days before, is now utter- 
 ly rejected ; it would even starve if supplied 
 with no other. As soon as the animal 
 acquires its perfect state, from having fed 
 upon vegetables, it becomes carnivorous, and 
 lives entirely upon worms and insects. But 
 as the water cannot supply these, it is oblig- 
 ed to quit its native element, and seek for 
 food upon land, where it lives by hunting 
 worms, and taking insects by surprise. At 
 first, being feeble and unable to bear the 
 warmth of the sun, it hides among bushes and 
 under stones; but when a shower comes to 
 refresh the earth, then the whole multitude 
 are seen to quit their retreats, in order to 
 enjoy the grateful humidity. Upon many 
 occasions the ground is seen perfectly black- 
 ened with their numbers: some hunting for 
 prey, and some seeking secure lurking places. 
 From the myriads that offer on such occa- 
 sions, some have been induced to think that 
 fchege animals were generated in the clouds, 
 
 and thus showered down on the earth. But 
 had they, like Derham, traced them to the 
 next pool, they would have tbund out a better 
 solution for the difficulty. 
 
 The frog lives for the most part out of the 
 water ; but when the cold nights begin to set 
 in, it returns to its native element, always 
 choosing stagnant waters, where it can lie 
 without danger concealed at the bottom. In 
 this manner it continues torpid, or with but 
 very little motion, all the winter: like the 
 rest of the dormant race, it requires no food ; 
 and the circulation is slowly carried on with- 
 out any assistance from the air. 
 
 It is at the approach of spring that all these 
 animals are roused from a stale of slumber 
 to a state of enjoyment. A short time after 
 they rise from the bottom they begin to pair, 
 while those that are as yet too young come 
 upon land before the rest. For this reason, 
 while the old ones continue concealed in the 
 beginning of spring, the small ones are more 
 frequently seen ; the former remaining in the 
 lake to propagate, while the latter are not 
 yet arrived at a state of maturity. 
 
 The difference of sexes, which was men- 
 tioned above, is not perceivable in these 
 animals, until they have arrived at their 
 fourth year; nor do they begin to propagate,, 
 till they have completed that period. By com- 
 paring their slow growth with theirotherhabi- 
 tudes, it would appear that they live about 
 twelve years; but having so many enemies, 
 both by land and water, it is probable that 
 few of them arrive at the end of their term. 
 
 Frogs live upon insects of all kinds; but 
 they never eat any unless they have motion. 
 They continue fixed and immoveable till 
 their prey appears ; and just when it comes 
 sufficiently near, they jump forward with 
 great agility, dart out their tongues, and seize 
 it with certainty. The tongue, in this animal, 
 as in the toad, lizard, and serpent kinds, is 
 extremely long, and formed in such a manner, 
 that it swallows the point down its throat; so 
 that a length of tongue is thus drawn out, 
 like a sword from its scabbard, to assail its 
 prey. This tongue is furnished with a glu- 
 tinous substance ; and whatever insect it 
 touches, infallibly adheres, and is thus held 
 fast till it is dratvn into the mouth. 
 
 As the frog is thus supplied with the power 
 
THE FROG KIND. 
 
 of catching its prey, it is also very vivacious, 
 and able to bear hunger fora very long time. 
 I have known one of them continue a month 
 in summer without any other food than the 
 turf on which it was placed in a glass vessel. 
 We are told of a German surgeon, that kept 
 one eight years in a glass vessel, covered 
 with a net. Its food was at all times but 
 sparing: in summer he gave it fresh grass, 
 which it is said to have fed upon ; and, in the 
 winter, hay, a little moistened : he likewise, 
 now and then, put flies into the glass, which 
 it would follow with an open mouth, and was 
 very expert in catching them. In winter, 
 when the flies were difficult to be found, it 
 usually fell away, and grew very lean ; but 
 in the summer, when they were plenty, it 
 soon grew fat again. It was kept in a warm 
 room, and was always lively and ready to 
 take its prey : however, in the eighth winter, 
 when there were no flies to be found, it fell 
 away and died. It is not certain how long it 
 might have lived, had it been supplied with 
 proper nourishment; but we are certain, that 
 a very little food is capable of sufficing its 
 necessities. 
 
 Nor is the frog less tenacious of life. It 
 will live and jump about several hours after 
 its head has been cut off. It will continue 
 active, though all its bowels are taken out; 
 and it can live some days, though entirely 
 stripped of it skin. This cruel trick, which 
 is chiefly practised among school-boys, of 
 skinning frogs, an operation which is done in 
 an instant, seems for some hours no way to 
 abate their vigour. I am assured that some 
 of them get a new skin and recover, after 
 this painful experiment. 
 
 The croaking of frogs is well known; and, 
 from thence, in some countries, they are dis- 
 tinguished by the ludicrous title of Dutch 
 Nightingales. Indeed, the aquatic frogs of 
 Holland are loud beyond what one would 
 imagine. We could hardly conceive that an 
 animal, not bigger than one's fist, should be 
 able to send forth a note that is heard at 
 three miles' distance ; yet such is actually 
 the case. The large water-frogs have a note 
 as loud as the bellowing of a bull ; and, for 
 this purpose, puff up the cheeks to a sur- 
 prising magnitude. Of all frogs, however, 
 the male only croaks ; the female is silent, 
 
 and the voice in the other seems to be the 
 call to courtship. It is certain, that at these 
 times when they couple, the loudness of their 
 croaking is in some places very troublesome; 
 for then the whole lake seems vocal ; and a 
 thousand dissonant notes perfectly stun the 
 neighbourhood. At other times, also, before 
 wet weather, their voicrs are in full exertion ; 
 they are then heard with unceasing assiduity, 
 sending forth their call, and welcoming the 
 approaches of their favourite moisture. No 
 weather-glass was ever so true as a frog in 
 foretelling an approaching change; and, in 
 fact, the' German surgeon, mentioned ahove, 
 kept his frog for that purpose. It was always 
 heard to croak at the approach of wet wea- 
 ther: but was as mute as a fish when it threat- 
 ened a continuance of fair. This may pro- 
 bably serve to explain an opinion which some 
 entertain, that there is a month in the year, 
 called Paddock Moon, in which the frogs 
 never croak : the whole seems to be no more 
 than that, in the hot season, when the mois- 
 ture is dried away, and consequently, when 
 these animals neither enjoy the quantity of 
 health or food that at other times they are 
 supplied with, they show, by their silence, 
 how much they are displeased with the wea- 
 ther. All very dry weather is hurtful to their 
 health, and prevents them from getting their 
 prey. They subsist chiefly upon worms and 
 snails; and as drought prevents these from 
 appearing, the frog is thus stinted in its pro- 
 visions, and also wants that grateful humidity 
 which moistens its skin, and renders it alert 
 and active. 
 
 As frogs adhere closely to the backs of 
 their own species, so it has been found, by 
 repeated experience, they will also adhere 
 to the backs of fishes. Few that have ponds, 
 but know that these animals will stick to the 
 backs of carp, and fix their fingers in the 
 corner of each eye. In this manner they are 
 often caught together : the carp blinded- and 
 wasted away. Whether this proceeds from 
 the desires of the frog, disappointed of its 
 proper mate, or whether it be a natural 
 enmity between frogs and fishes, I will not 
 take upon me to say. A story told us by 
 Walton, might be apt to incline us to the lat- 
 ter opinion. 
 
 " As Dubravius, a bishop of Bohemia, wajs 
 5F 
 
702 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 walking with a friend by a large pond in that 
 country, they saw a frog, when a pike lay 
 very sleepily and quiet by the shore side, leap 
 upon his head, and the frog having expressed 
 malice or anger by his swollen cheeks and 
 staring eyes, did stretch out his legs, and em- 
 braced the pike's head, and presently reached 
 them to his eyes, tearing with them and his 
 teelh those tender parts ; the pike, irritated 
 with anguish, moves up and down the water, 
 and rubs himself against weeds, and whatever 
 he thought might quit him of his enemy ; but 
 all in vain, for the frog did continue to ride 
 triumphantly, and to bite and torment the 
 
 [Another tribe of this family, is the Tree-frog : these 
 animals have a much slenderer and more elegant shape 
 than the common frog, and have the limhs longer. At 
 the end of each toe is a round, fleshy, concave substance, 
 
 pike till his strength failed, and then the 
 frog sunk with the pike to the bottom of the 
 water : then presently the frog appeared again 
 at the top, and croaked, and seemed to rejoice 
 like a conqueror ; after which he presently 
 retired to his secret hole. The bishop, that 
 had beheld the battle, called his fisherman to 
 fetch his nets, and by all means to get the 
 pike, that they might declare \vhat had hap- 
 pened. The pike was drawn forth, and both 
 his eyes eaten out ; at which when they began 
 to wonder, the fisherman wished them to for- 
 bear, and assured them he was certain that 
 pikes were often so served." 
 
 which exudes an unctuous matter, which enables it to ad- 
 here to the leaves and brandies of trees, &c. in search of 
 insects. They are found in France, Germany, Italy, and 
 America.] 
 
 CHAPTER CLIX. 
 
 OF THE TOAD, AND ITS VARIETIES. 
 
 IF we regard the figure of the toad, there 
 seems nothing in it that should disgust more 
 than that of the frog. Its form and propor- 
 tions are nearly the same ; and it chiefly dif- 
 fers in colour, which is blacker ; and its slow 
 and heavy motion, which exhibits nothing of 
 the agility of the frog : yet such is the force 
 of habit, begun in early prejudice, that those 
 who consider the one as a harmless playful 
 animal, turn from the other with horror and 
 disgust. The frog is considered as an useful 
 assistant, in ridding our grounds of vermin ; 
 the toad, as a secret enemy, that only wants 
 an opportunity to infect us with its venom. 
 
 Tiie imagination, in this manner biassed by 
 its terrors, paints out the toad in the most 
 hideous colouring, and clothes it in more than 
 natural deformity. Its body is broad ; Its 
 back flat ; covered with a dusky pimpled hide; 
 the belly is large and swagging; the pace 
 laboured and crawling ; its retreat gloomy 
 and filthy ; and its whole appearance calcu- 
 lated to excite disgust and horror : yet, upon 
 my first seeing a toad, none of all these defor- 
 mities in the least affected me with sensations 
 
 of loathing : born as I was, in a country 
 where there are no toads, I had prepared my 
 imagination for some dreadful object ; but 
 there seemed nothing to me more alarming in 
 the sight, than in that of a common frog ; 
 and, indeed, for some time, I mistook and, 
 handled the one for the other. When first in- 
 formed of my mistake, I very well remember 
 my sensations : I wondered how I had 
 escaped with safety, after handling and dis- 
 secting a toad, which I had mistaken for a 
 frog. I then began to lay in a fund of horror 
 against the whole tribe, which, though con- 
 vinced they are harmless, I shall never get rid 
 of. My first imaginations were two strong 
 not only for my reason, but for the conviction 
 of my senses. 
 
 As the toad bears a general resemblance of 
 figure to the frog, so also it resembles that 
 animal in its nature and appetites. Like the 
 frog, the toad is amphibious; like that animal, 
 it lives upon worms and insects, which it 
 seizes by darting out its length of tongue ; 
 and in the same manner also it crawls about 
 in moist weather. The male and female 
 
THE FROG KIND. 
 
 703 
 
 couple as in all the frog kind ; their time of 
 propiigation bring v ry early in the spring. 
 So netimes the females are seen upon land 
 oppressed by the males ; but more frequently 
 they are coupled in the water. They continue 
 together some hour.*, and adhere so fast as to 
 te.ir the very skin from the parts they stick to. 
 In all this they entirely resemble the frog ; 
 but the assistance which the male lends the 
 female, in bringing forth, is a peculiarity in 
 this species that must not be passed over in 
 silence. " In the evening of a summer's day, 
 a French gentleman, being in the king's gar- 
 dens at Paris, perceived two toads coupled 
 together, and he stopped to examine them. 
 Two facts equally new surprised him ; the 
 first was the extreme difficulty the female 
 had in laying her eggs ; the second was the 
 assistance lent her by the male for this pur- 
 pose. The eggs of the female lie in her body, 
 like beads on a string ; and after the first, by 
 great effort, was excluded, the male caught it 
 with his hinder paws, and kept working it 
 till he had thus extracted the whole chain. 
 In this manner the animal performed, in some 
 measure, the functions of a midwife ; impreg- 
 nating, at the same time, every egg as it issu- 
 ed from the body." 
 
 It is probable, however, that this difficulty 
 in bringing forth obtains only upon land ; and 
 that the toad, which produces its spawn in 
 the water, performs it with as much ease as a 
 frog. They propagate in England exactly in 
 the manner of frogs; and the female, instead 
 of retiring to dry holes, goes to the bottom of 
 ponds, and there lies torpid all the winter, 
 preparing to propagate in the beginning of 
 spring. On these occasions, the number of 
 mal-'s N found greatly to surpass that of the 
 other sex, there being above thirty to one ; 
 an-1 twelve <>r fourteen are often seen clinging 
 to the same female. 
 
 When, like the frog, they have undergone 
 all the variations of their tadpole state, they 
 fors-ike the water ; and are often seen, in a 
 moist summer's evening, crawling up, by 
 myriads, from fenny places, into dryer situa- 
 tions. There, having found out a retreat, or 
 havi-'g dug themselves one with their mouth 
 and !>auds, they lead a patient solitary life, 
 seldom venturing out, except when the mois- 
 ture of a summer's evening invites them 
 abroad, At that time the grass is filled with 
 
 snails, and the pathways covered with worms, 
 which make their principal food. Insects 
 also of every kind they are fond of; and we 
 have the authority of Linnaeus for it, that 
 they sometimes continue immoveable, with 
 the mouth open, at the bottom of shrubs, 
 where the butterflies, in some measure fesci- 
 nated, are seen to fly down their throats." 
 
 In a letter from Mr. Arscott, there are some 
 curious particulars relating to this animal, 
 which throws great light upon its history. 
 " Concerning the toad," says he, " that lived 
 so many years with us, and was so great a 
 favourite, the greatest curiosity was its becom- 
 ing so remarkably tame ; it had frequent- 
 ed some steps before our hall-door some years 
 before my acquaintance commenced with it, 
 and had been admired by my father for its 
 size, (being the largest I ever met with,) who 
 constantly paid it a visit every evening. I 
 knew it myself above thirty years ; and by 
 constantly feeding it, brought it to be so tame, 
 that it always came to the candle, and looked 
 up, as if expecting to be taken up and brought 
 upon the table, where I always fed it with in- 
 sects of all sorts. It was fondest of flesh mag- 
 gots, which I kept in bran; It would follow 
 them, and when within a proper distance, 
 would fix his eyes, and remain motionless for 
 near a quarter of a minute, as if preparing for 
 the stroke, which was an instantaneous throw- 
 ing its tongue at a great distance upon the in- 
 sect, which stuck to the tip by a glutinous 
 matter. The motion is quicker than the eye 
 can follow. I cannot say how long my father 
 had been acquainted with the toad, before I 
 knew it ; but when I was first acquainted 
 with it, he used to mention it as the old toad 
 I have known so many years ; I can answer 
 for thirty-six years. This old toad made its 
 appearance as soon as the warm weather 
 earne ; and 1 always concluded it retired to 
 some dry bank, to repose till spring. When 
 we new layed the steps, I had two holes made 
 in the third step, on each, with a hollow of 
 more than a yard long for it ; in which I 
 imagine it slept, as it came from thence at its 
 first appearance. It was seldom provoked. 
 Neither that toad, nor the multitudes I have 
 seen tormented with great cruelty, ever 
 showed the least desire of revenge, by spitting 
 
 Amsenit. vol. vi. p. 201, 
 
704 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 or emitting any juice from their pimples. 
 Sometimes, upon taking it up, it would let 
 out a great quantity of clear water, which, as 
 I have often seen it do the same upon the 
 steps when quite quiet, was certainly its 
 urine, and no snore than a natural evacuation. 
 Spiders, tnillipeds, and flesh maggots, seem 
 to bo lliis animal's favourite food. 1 imagine 
 if a hoc was to be put before a toad, it would 
 certainly eat it t*j its cost; but as bees are 
 seldom stirring at the same time that toads 
 are, they rarely come in their way ; as they 
 do not appear after sun-rising, or before sun- 
 set. In the heat of the day they will come 
 to the mouth of their hole, I believe for air. 
 f once, from my parlour window, observed a 
 large toad I had in the bank of a bowling- 
 green, about twelve at noon in a very hot 
 day, very busy and active upon the grass. 
 So uncommon an appearance made me go 
 out to see what it was; when I found an in- 
 numerable swarm of winged ants had drop- 
 ped round his hole; which temptation was 
 as irresistible as a turtle would be to a luxu- 
 rious* alderman. In respect to its end, had it 
 not been for a tame raven, I make no doubt 
 but it would have been now living. This 
 bird, one day seeing it at the mouth of its 
 hole, pulled it out, and, although I rescued 
 it, pulled out one eye, and hurt it so, that 
 notwithstanding its living a twelvemonth, it 
 never enjoyed itself, and had a difficulty of 
 taking its food, missing the mark for want of 
 its eye. Before that accident, it had all the 
 appearance of perfect health." 
 
 To this account of the toad's inoffensive 
 qualities, I will add another from Valisnieri, 
 to show that, even taken internally, the toad 
 is no way dangerous. "In the year 1692, 
 some German soldiers, who had taken pos- 
 session of the castle of Arceti, finding that 
 the peasants of the country often amused 
 themselves in catching frogs, and dressing 
 them for the table ; resolved to provide them- 
 selves with a like entertainment, and made 
 preparations for frog fishing, in the same 
 manner. It may easily be supposed that the 
 Italians and their German guests were not 
 very fond of each other; and indeed it is 
 
 * Raesel tried a frog ; it swallowed the bee alive : its 
 tomaoh was stung, and the animal vomited it up again. 
 
 natural to think that the soldiers gave the 
 poor people of the country iminy good rea- 
 sons for discontent. They were not a little 
 pleased, therefore, when they saw them go 
 to a ditch where toads instead of frogs were 
 found in abundance. The Germans, no way 
 distinguishing in their sport, caught them in 
 great numbers; while the peasants kept 
 looking on, silently flattering themselves 
 with the hopes of speedy revenge. After be- 
 ing brought home, the toads were dressed up 
 after the Italian fashion: the peasants were 
 quite happy at seeing their tyrants devour 
 them with so good an appeiite, and expected 
 every moment to see them drop down dead. 
 But what was their surprise to find, that the 
 Germans continued as well as ever, and only 
 complained of a slight excoriation of the lips, 
 which probably arose from some other cause 
 than that of their repast." 
 
 I will add another story, from Soleriander; 
 who tells us, that a tradesman of Rome and 
 his wife had long lived together with mutual 
 discontent; the man was dropsical, and the 
 woman amorous : this ill-matched society 
 promised soon, by the very infirm state of the 
 man, to have an end ; but the woman was 
 unwilling to wait the progress of the disorder; 
 and therefore concluded that, to get rid of 
 her husband, nothing was left her but poison. 
 For this purpose, she chose out a dose that 
 she supposed would be the most effectual; 
 and having calcined some toads, mixed their 
 powder with his drink. The man, after 
 taking a hearty dose, found no considerable 
 inconvenience, except that it greatly promo- 
 ted urine. His wife, who considered this as 
 a beginning symptom of the venom, resolved 
 not to stint the next dose, but gave it in 
 greater quantities than before. This also 
 increased the former symptom ; and, in a few 
 days, the woman had the mortification to see 
 her detested husband restored to perfect 
 health ; and remained in utter despair of 
 ever being a widow. 
 
 From all this it will appear with what in- 
 justice this animal has hitherto been treated. 
 It has undergone every kind of reproach; 
 and mankind have been taught to consider 
 as an enemy, a creature that destroys that 
 insect tribe which are their real invaders. 
 We are to treat, therefore, as fables, those 
 
THE FROG KIND. 
 
 70j> 
 
 accounts that represent the toad as possessed 
 of poison to kill at a distance; of its ejecting 
 its venom, which burns wherever it touches; 
 of its infecting those vegetables near which 
 it resides; of its excessive fondness for sage, 
 which it renders poisonous by its approach; 
 these, and a hundred others ol the same kind, 
 probably took rise from an antipathy which 
 some have to all animals of the kind. It is 
 an harmless, defenceless creature, torpid and 
 unvenomous, and seeking the darkest retreats, 
 not from the malignity of its nature, but the 
 multitude of its enemies. 
 
 Like all the frog kind, the toad is torpid in 
 winter. It chooses then for a retreat either 
 the hollow root of a tree, the cleft of a rock, 
 or sometimes the bottom of a pond, where it 
 is found in a state of seeming insensibility. 
 As it is very long-lived, it is very difficult to 
 be killed; its skin is tough, and cannot be 
 easily pierced ; and, though covered with 
 wounds, the animal continues to show signs 
 of life, and every part appears in motion. But 
 what shall we say to its living for centuries 
 lodged in the bosom of a rock, or cased with- 
 in the body of an oak tree, without the small- 
 est access on any side either for nourishment 
 or air, and yet taken out alive and perfect! 
 Stories of this kind it would be as rash to con- 
 tradict, as difficult to believe; we have the 
 highest authorities bearing witness to their 
 truth, and yet the whole analogy of nature 
 seems to arraign them of falsehood. Bacon 
 asserls, that toads are found in this manner; 
 Dr. Plot asserts the same: There is to this 
 day a marble chimney-piece at Chatsworth 
 with the print of a toad upon it, and a tradi- 
 tion of the manner in which it was found. In 
 the Memoirs of the Academy of Sciences, 
 there is an account of a toad found alive and 
 healthy in the heart of a very thick elm, 
 without the smallest entrance or egress." In 
 the year 1731, there was another found near 
 N intes in the heart of an old oak, without the 
 smallest issue to its cell ; and the discoverer 
 was of opinion, from the size of the tree, that 
 the animal could not have been confined there 
 less than eighty or a hundred years, without 
 sustenance and without air. To all these we 
 can only oppose the strangeness of the facts; 
 
 # Vide the year 1719. 
 
 the neccessity this animal appears under of 
 receiving air; and its dying like all other ani- 
 mals in the air-pump, when deprived of this 
 all-sustaining fluid. But whether these be 
 objections to weigh against such respectable 
 and disinterested authority, I will not pretend 
 to determine; certain it is, that if kept in a 
 damp place, the toad will live for several 
 months without any food whatsoever. 
 
 To this extraordinary account, which is 
 doubtful, I will a<ld another not less so ; which 
 is, that of toads sucking cancerous breasts, 
 and thus extracting the venom, and perform- 
 ing a cure. The first account we have of 
 this, is in a letter to the Bishop of Carlisle 
 from Doctor Pitfield, who was the first person 
 of consequence that attended the experiment 
 His letter is as follows: 
 
 "Your lordship must have taken notice of 
 a paragraph in the papers with regard to the 
 application of toads to a cancered breast. A 
 patient of mine has sent to the neighbourhood 
 of Hungerford, and brought down the very 
 woman on whom the cure was done. I have, 
 w ith all the attention I am capable of, attend- 
 ed the operation for eighteen or twenty days, 
 and am surprised at the phenomenon. I am 
 in no expectation of any great service from 
 the application; the age, constitution, and 
 thoroughly cancerous condition, of the person, 
 being unconquerable barriers to it. How an 
 ailment of that kind, absolutely local, in an 
 otherwise sound habit and of a likely age, 
 might be relieved, I cannot say. But as to 
 the operation, thus much I can assert, that 
 there is neither pain nor nauseousness in it. 
 The animal is put into a linen bag all but its 
 head, and that is held to the part. It has 
 generally instantly laid hold of the foulest 
 part of the sore, and sucked with greediness 
 until it dropped off dead. It has frequently 
 happened that the creature has swollen im- 
 mediately, and from its agonies appeared to 
 be in great pain. I have weighed them for 
 several days together, before and after the 
 application, and found their increaseof weight, 
 in the different degrees, from a drachm to 
 near an ounce. They frequently sweat ex- 
 ceedingly, and turn quite pale; sometimes 
 they disgorge, recover, and become lively 
 again : I think the whole scene is surprising, 
 and a very remarkable piece of natural his- 
 
A HISTORY OF 
 
 tory. From theconstant inoffensiveness which 
 I have observed iu them, I almost question 
 the truth of their poisonous spitting. Many 
 people here expect no great good from the 
 application of toads to cancers; and where 
 the disorder is not absolutely local, none is 
 to be expected. When it is seated in any 
 
 Fart not to be well come at for extirpation, 
 think it is hardly to be imagined, but that 
 the having it sucked clean as often as you 
 please, must give great relief. Every body 
 knows that dogs licking of sores cures them, 
 which is I suppose chiefly by keeping them 
 clean. If there be any credit to be given to 
 history, poisons have been sucked out. Pal- 
 kntia vitlnera lambit ore venena trahens, are the 
 words of Ltican on the occasion. If the peo- 
 ple to whom these words are applied did 
 their cure by immediately following the in- 
 jection of the poison, the local confinement of 
 another poison brings the case to a great de- 
 gree of similarity. I hope I have not tired 
 your Lordship with my long tale: as it is a 
 true one, and in my apprehension a curious 
 piece of natural history, I could not forbear 
 communicating it to you. I own I thought 
 the story in the papers to bean invention; 
 and when I considered the instinctive prin- 
 ciple in all animals of self-preservation, 1 was 
 confirmed in my disbelief: but what I have 
 related I saw ; and all theory must yield to 
 fact. It is only the Rubeth, the land-toad, 
 which has the property of sucking: I cannot 
 find any the least mention of the property in 
 any one of the old naturalists. My patient 
 can bear to have but one applied in twenty- 
 four hours. The woman who was cured had 
 them on day and night without intermission 
 for five weeks. Their time of hanging at the 
 breast has been from one to six hours." 
 
 Other remarks made upon their method of 
 performing this extraordinary operation are 
 as follow. " Some toads die very soon after 
 they have sucked -, others live about a quar- 
 ter of an hour, and some much longer. For 
 example, one that was applied about seven 
 o'clock sucked till ten, and died as soon as 
 it was taken from the breast; another that 
 immediately succeeded continued till three 
 o'clock, but dropped dead from the wound : 
 each swelled exceedingly, and of a pale co- 
 lour. They do not seem to suck greedily, 
 
 and often turn their heads away; but during 
 the time of their sucking, they were heard to 
 smack their lips like a young child."" 
 
 From this circumstantial account of the 
 progress of this extraordinary application, one 
 could hardly suppose that any doubt could 
 remain of the ingenious observer's accuracy ; 
 and yet, from information which I have it - 
 ceived from authority still more respectable, 
 there is much reason as yet to suspend our 
 assent. A lady, who was under the care of 
 the present president of the college of phy- 
 sicians, was induced by her friends to try the 
 experiment; and as he saw the case was des- 
 perate, and that it would quiet her mind as 
 as well as theirs, he permitted the trial. Du- 
 ring the whole continuance of their applica- 
 tion, she could never thoroughly perceive 
 that they sucked her; but that did not pre- 
 vent their swelling and dying, as in the former 
 instances. Once indeed, she said, she thought 
 that one of them seemed to suck ; but the 
 physician, and those who attended, could not 
 perceive any appearance of it. Thus, after 
 all, it is a doubt whether these animals die 
 by the internal or the external application of 
 the cancerous poison. 
 
 Of this animal there are several varieties ; 
 such as the Water and the Land Toad, which 
 probably differ only in the ground-colour of 
 their skin. In the first, it is more inclining 
 to ash-colour, with brown spots ; in the other, 
 the colour is brown, approaching to black. 
 The water toad is not so large as the other; 
 but both equally breed in that element. The 
 size of the toad with us is generally from two 
 to four inches long; but in the fenny coun- 
 tries of Europe, I have seen them much 
 larger, and not less than a common crab, when 
 brought to table. But this is nothing to what 
 they are found in someof the tropical climates, 
 where travellers often, for the first time, mis- 
 take a toad for a tortoise. Their usual size 
 is from six to seven inches; but there are some 
 still larger, and as broad as a plate. Of the^e 
 some are beautifully streaked and coloured; 
 some studded over, as with pearls; others 
 bristled with horns or spines; some have the 
 head distinct from the body, while others have 
 it so sunk in, that the animal appears without 
 
 British Zoology, vol. iii. p. 338. 
 
THE FROG KIND. 
 
 707 
 
 a head.* All these are found in the tropical 
 clim.ites, in great abundance; and particularly 
 after a shower of rain. It is then that the 
 streets seem entirely paved with them ; they 
 then crawl from their retreats, and go into all 
 places to enjoy their favourite moisture* With 
 us the opinion of its raining toads and frogs 
 has long been justly exploded; but it still is 
 entertained in the tropical countries; and 
 that not only by the savage natives, but the 
 more refined settlers, who are apt enough 
 to add the prejudices of other nations to their 
 own. 
 
 It would be a tedious, as well as useless 
 task, to enter into all the minute discrimina- 
 tions of these animals, as found in different 
 countries or places; but the Pipal, or the 
 Surina;ii Toad, is too strange a creature not 
 to require an exact description. There is not, 
 perhaps, in all nature, a more extraordinary 
 phenomenon, than that of an animal breeding 
 and hatching its young in its back ; from 
 whence, as from a kind of hot-bed, they 
 crawl one after the other, when come to ma- 
 turity. 
 
 The pipal is in form more hideous than 
 even the common toad ; nature seeming to 
 have marked all those strange-mannered ani- 
 mals with peculiar deformity. The body is 
 flat and broad ; the head small ; the jaws, 
 like those of a mole, are extended, and evU 
 dently formed for rooting in the ground : the 
 skin of the neck forms a sort of wrinkled col- 
 lar : the colour of the head is of a dark ches- 
 nut, and the eyes are small : the back, which 
 is very broad, is of a lightish gray, and seems 
 covered over with a number of small eyes, 
 which are round, and placed at nearly equal 
 distances. These eyes are very different from 
 what they see;ii ; they are the animal's eggs, 
 covered with their shells, and placed there for 
 hatching. These eggs are buried deep in the 
 skin, and in the beginning of incubation but 
 just appear ; and are very visible when the 
 young animal is about to burst from its con- 
 finement. They are of a reddish shining yel- 
 
 Among tliis numerous family there is one, which, for 
 horrid and deformed appearance, probably exceeds all 
 other created beings. This is the horned Toad of South 
 America. The colour is cinerous, with brown stripes 
 The eye-lids project in a singular manner, and give it the 
 appearance as if the eyes were placed at the bottom of a 
 
 NO. 59 & 60. 
 
 low colour ; and the spaces between them arc 
 full of small warts, resembling pearls. 
 
 This is their situation, previous to their 
 coming forth ; but nothing so much demands 
 our admiration, as the manner of their pro- 
 duction. The eggs, when formed in the 
 ovary, are sent by some internal canals, which 
 anatomists have not hitherto described^ to lie 
 and come to maturity under the bony sub- 
 stance of the back ; in this state they are im- 
 pregnated by the male, whose seed finds its 
 way by pores veiy singularly contrived, and 
 pierces not only the skin but the periosteum. 
 The skin, however, is still apparently entire, 
 and forms a very thick covering over the 
 whole brood ; but as they advance to maturity, 
 at different intervals, one after another, the egg 
 seems to start forward and bourgeon from the 
 back, becomes more yellow, and at last breaks, 
 when the young one puts forth its head : it 
 still, however, keeps its situation, until it has 
 acquired a proper degree of strength, and 
 then it leaves the shell, but still continues to 
 keep upon the back of the parent. In this 
 manner the pipal is seen travelling with her 
 wondrous family on her back, in all the dif- 
 ferent stages of maturity. Some of the 
 strange progeny, not yet come to sufficient 
 perfection, appear quite torpid, and as yet 
 without life in the egg : others seem just be- 
 ginning to rise through the skin ; here peeping 
 forth from the shell ; and there, having entire- 
 ly forsaken their prison, some are sporting at 
 large upon the parent's back ; and others de- 
 scending to the ground, to try their own for- 
 tune below. 
 
 Such is the description given of this strange 
 production by Seba, in which he differs from 
 Ruysch, who affirms, that the young ones are 
 bred in the back of the male only, where the 
 female lays her eggs. I have followed Seba, 
 however, not because he is better authority, 
 but because he is more positive of the truth of 
 his account, and asserts, assuredly, that the 
 eggs are found on the back of the female 
 only. Many circumstances, however, are 
 
 pair of sharp-pointed horns : the head is very large, and 
 the mouth is so enormous, as to exceed half the length of 
 its body. To add to its loathsome appearance, it is like- 
 wise clothed all over, except the head and feet, with short 
 sharp spines. 
 
 50 
 
708 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 wanting towards completing his information ; 
 such as a description of the passage by which 
 the egg finds its way into the back ; the man- 
 ner of its fecundation ; the time of gestation ; 
 as also a history of the manners of this strange 
 animal itself: but, by a prolixity that too 
 much prevails among naturalists at present, 
 he leaves the most interesting object of curi- 
 osity, to give us a detailed description of the 
 legs and claws of the pipal, about which we 
 have very little concern. 
 
 The male pipal is every way larger than 
 the female, and hns the skin less tightly drawn 
 round the bodv. The whole body is covered 
 
 with pustules resembling pearls ; and the bel- 
 ly, which is of a bright yellow, seems as if it 
 were sewed up from the throat to the vtnt, a 
 seam being seen to run in that direction. 
 This animal, like the rest of the frog kind, is 
 most probably harmless ; though we are told 
 of the terrible effects resulting from its powder 
 when calcined. This, however, must certain- 
 ly be false ; no creature whatever, when 
 calcined, can be poisonous ; for the fire 
 burns away whatever might have been dan- 
 gerous in their composition : all animal sub- 
 stances, when calcined, being entirely the 
 same. 
 
THE LIZARD KIND. 
 
 709 
 
 OF THE LIZARD KIND, 
 
 .*> 
 
 CHAPTER CLX. 
 
 OF LIZARDS IN GENERAL. 
 
 THERE is scarcely a naturalist, who has 
 treated of lizards, but has a particular manner 
 of ranking them in the scale of animated na- 
 ture. Ray, rather struck with the number of 
 their legs, than their habits and conformation, 
 has exalted them among quadrupeds; while 
 Linnaeus, attentive only to their long slender 
 forms, has degraded them among serpents. 
 Brisson gives them a distinct class by them- 
 selves, under the name of reptiles. Klein 
 gives them a class inferior to beasts, under the 
 name of naked quadrupeds. Some, in short, 
 from their scaly covering, and fondness for the 
 water, have given them to the fishes ; while 
 there have not been wanting naturalists who 
 have classed them with insects, as the smaller 
 kinds of this class seem to demand. 
 
 It is indeed no easy matter to tell to what 
 class in nature lizards are chiefly allied. They 
 are unjustly raised to the rank of beasts, as 
 they bring forth eggs, dispense with breathing, 
 and are not covered with hair. They cannot 
 be placed among fishes, as the majority of 
 them live upon land : they are excluded from 
 the serpent tribe, by their feet, upon which 
 they run with some celerity ; and from the 
 insects, by their size ; for though the Newt 
 may be looked upon in this contemptible light, 
 a Crocodile would be a terrible insect indeed. 
 Thus lizards are, in some measure, excluded 
 from every rank ; while they exhibit some- 
 what of the properties of all ; the legs and 
 celerity of the quadruped ; a facility of creep- 
 through narrow and intricate ways, like 
 serpent ; and a power of living in the 
 like fishes : however, though endued 
 with these various powers, they have no real 
 advantages over any other class of animated 
 
 ing 
 the 
 
 nature ; for what they gain in aptitude for one 
 element, they lose in their fitness for another. 
 Thus, between both, they are an awkward 
 ungainly tribe ; neither so alert upon land, nor 
 so nimble in the water, as the respective in- 
 habitants of either abode : and, indeed, this 
 holds throughout all nature, that in proportion 
 as the seeming advantages of inferior animals 
 are multiplied, their real ones are abridged; 
 and all their instincts are weakened and lost 
 by the variety of channels into which they are 
 divided. 
 
 As lizards thus differ from every other class 
 of animals, they also differ widely from each 
 other. With respect to size, no class of beings 
 has its ranks so opposite. What, for instance, 
 can be more removed than the small Chame- 
 leon, an inch long, and the Alligator of the 
 river Amazons, above twenty-seven feet ? To 
 an inattentive observer, they would appear 
 entirely of different kinds and Seba wonders 
 how they ever came to be classed together. 
 
 The colour of these animals also is very 
 various, as they are found of a hundred dif- 
 ferent hues green, blue, red, chesmit, yellow, 
 spotted, streaked, and marbled. Were colour 
 alone capable of constituting beauty, the lizard 
 would often please ; but there is something so 
 repressing in the animal's figure, that the bril- 
 liancy of its scales, or the variety of its spots, 
 only tend to give an airof more exquisite venom 
 or greater malignity. The figure of these ani- 
 mals is not less various : sometimes swollen 
 in the belly ; sometimes pursed up at the 
 throat ; sometimes with a rough set of spines 
 on the back, like the teeth of a saw ; some- 
 times with teeth, at others with none; some- 
 times venomous at others harmless, and even 
 
 5G* 
 
'10 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 philanthropic ; sometimes smooth and even ; 
 sometimes with a long slender tail ; and often 
 with a shorter blunt one. 1 
 
 But their greatest distinction arises from the 
 manner of bringing forth their young. First, 
 some of them are viviparous. Secondly, some 
 are oviparous ; and which may be considered 
 in three distinct ways. Thirdly, some bring 
 forth small spawn, like fishes. The Crocodile, 
 the Iguana, and all the larger kinds, bring 
 forth oggs, which are hatched by the heat of 
 the sun ; the animals that issue from them are 
 complete upon leaving the shell ; and their 
 first efforts are to run to seek food in their 
 proper element, The viviparous kinds, in 
 which are all the salamanders, come forth alive 
 from the body of the female, perfect and ac- 
 tive, and suffer no succeeding change. But 
 those which arc bred in the water, and, as we 
 have reason to think, from spawn, suffer a very 
 considerable change in their form. They are 
 produced with an external skin or covering, 
 that sometimes encloses their feet, and gives 
 them a serpentine appearance. To this false 
 skin fins are added, above and below the tail, 
 that serve the animal for swimming ; but 
 when the false skin drops off, these drop 
 off also ; and then the lizard, with its four 
 feet, is completely formed, and forsakes the 
 water, 
 
 From hence it appears, that of this tribe 
 there are three distinct kinds, differently pro- 
 duced, and most probably very different in 
 their formation. But the history of these ani- 
 mals is very obscure ; and we are as yet inca- 
 pable of laying the line that separates them. 
 All we know, as was said before, is, that the 
 great animals of this kind are mostly produced 
 perfect from the egg ; the salamanders are 
 generally viviparous ; and some of the water 
 lizards imperfectly produced. Jn all these 
 
 The whole of this tribe is perfectly destitute of poi- 
 son, and, except the crocodile and alligator, quite inoffen- 
 
 most unfinished productions of nature, if I 
 may so call them, the varieties in their struc- 
 ture increase in proportion to their imperfec- 
 tions. A poet would say, that nature grew 
 tired of the nauseous formation, and left acci- 
 dent to finish the rest of her handy-work. 
 
 However, the three kinds have many points 
 of similitude ; and, in all their varieties of 
 figure, colour, and production, this tribe is 
 easily distinguished, and strongly marked. 
 They have all four short legs ; the two fore- 
 feet somewhat resembling a man's hand and 
 arm. They have tails almost as thick as the 
 body at the beginning, and that generally run 
 tapering to a point. They are all amphibious 
 also ; equally capable of living upon land and 
 water ; and formed internally in the same 
 manner with the tortoise, and other animals, 
 that can continue a long time without respira- 
 tion : in other words, their lungs are not so 
 necessary to continue life and circulation, but 
 that their play may be stopped for some con* 
 siderable time, while the blood performs its 
 circuit round the body by a shorter communi-> 
 cation. 
 
 These are differences that sufficiently sepa- 
 rate lizards from all other animals; but it will 
 be very difficult to fix the limits that distin- 
 guish the three kinds from each other. The 
 crocodile tribe, and its affinities, are sufficiently 
 distinguished from all the rest by their size 
 and fierceness ; the salamander tribe is distin- 
 guished by their deformity, their frog-like 
 heads, the shortness of their snouts, their swol- 
 len bellies, and their viviparous production* 
 With regard to the rest, which we may deno- 
 minate the chameleon or lizard kind, some of 
 which bring forth from the egg, and some of 
 which are imperfectly formed from spawn, we 
 must group them under one head, and leave 
 time to unravel the rest of their history. 
 
 sive to mankind. Those that are bred in waters undergo 
 a metamorphosis, and pass through a tadpole state. 
 
THE LIZARD KIND. 
 
 7J1 
 
 CHAPTER CLXI. 
 
 OF THE CROCODILE, AND ITS AFFINITIES. 
 
 THE Crocodile is an animal placed at a 
 happy distance from the inhabitants of Europe, 
 and formidable only in those regions where 
 men are scarce, and arts are but little known. 
 In all the cultivated and populous parts of the 
 world, the great animals are entirely banish- 
 ed, or rarely seen. The appearance of such 
 raises at once a whole country up in arms to 
 oppose their force; and their lives generally 
 pay the forfeit of their temerity. The croco- 
 dile, therefore, that was once so terrible along 
 the banks of the river Nile, is now neither so 
 large, nor ils numbers so great, as formerly. 
 The arts of mankind have, through a course 
 of ages, powerfully operated to its destruc- 
 tion; and, though it is sometimes seen, it ap- 
 pears comparatively timorous arid feeble. 
 
 To look for this animal in all its natural 
 terrors, grown to an enormous size, propa- 
 gated in surprising numbers, and committing 
 unceasing devastations, we must go to the 
 uninhabited regions of Africa and America, 
 to those immense rivers that roll through ex- 
 tensive and desolate kingdoms, where arts 
 have never penetrated, where force only makes 
 distinction, and the most powerful animals 
 exert their strength with confidence and se- 
 curity. Those that sail up the river Amazons, 
 or the river Niger, well know how numerous 
 and terrible those animals are in such parts 
 of the world. In both these rivers, they are 
 found from eighteen to twenty-seven feet long; 
 and sometimes lying as close to each other as 
 rafts of timber upon one of our streams. There 
 they indolently bask on the surface, no way 
 disturbed at the approach of an enemy, since, 
 from the repeated trials of their strength, they 
 found none that they were not able to subdue. 
 
 Of this terrible animal there are two kinds ; 
 the Crocodile, properly so called, and the Cay- 
 man or Alligator Travellers, however, have 
 rather made the distinctions than nature; for 
 in the general outline, and in the nature of 
 these *wo animals, they are entirely the same. 
 
 It would be speaking more properly to call 
 these animals the Crocodiles of the eastern 
 and the western world ; for in books of voy- 
 ages, they are so entirely confounded together, 
 that there is no knowing whether the Asiatic 
 animal be the crocodile of Asia, or the alliga- 
 tor of the western world. The distinctions 
 usually made between the crocodile and al- 
 ligator are these : the body of the crocodile 
 is more slender than that of the alligator; 
 its snout runs off tapering from the forehead, 
 like that of a greyhound ; while that of the 
 other is indented, like the nose of a lap-dog. 
 The crocodile has a much wider swallow, and 
 is of an ash-colour; the alligator is black, va- 
 ried with white, and is thought not to be so 
 mischievous. All these distinctions, however, 
 are very slight; and can be reckoned little 
 more than minute variations." 1 
 
 This animal grows to a great length, being 
 sometimes found thirty feet long, from the tip 
 of the snout to the end of the tail : its most 
 usual length, however, is eighteen. One which 
 was dissected by the Jesuits at Siam, was of 
 the latter dimensions; and as the description 
 which is given of it, both externally and in- 
 ternally, is the most accurate known of this 
 noted animal, I must beg leave to give it as 
 I find it, though somewhat tedious. It was 
 eighteen feet and a half, French measure, in 
 length ; of which the tail was no less than 
 five feet and a half, and the head and neck 
 above two feet and a half. It was four feet 
 nine inches in circumference, where thickest. 
 The fore legs had the same parts and confor- 
 mation as the arms of a man, both within and 
 without. The hands, if they may be so call- 
 ed, had five fingers; the two last of which hud 
 no nails, and were of a conical figure. The 
 hinder legs, including the thigh and pa\v, were 
 
 a The Crocodile has a scaly mail round its nt<k : but 
 the neck of the Alligator is naked : the tail of the Croco- 
 dile is likewiselurnished with two lateral crested 
 
IV. 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 two feet two inches long ; the paws, from the 
 joint to the extremity of the longest claws, 
 were above nine inches : they were divided 
 into four toes, of which three were armed with 
 large claws, the longest of which was an inch 
 and a half; these toes were united by a mem- 
 brane, like those of a duck, but much thicker. 
 The head was long, and had a little rising at 
 the top ; but the rest was flat, and especially 
 towards the extremity of the jaws. It was 
 covered by a skin, which adhered firmly to 
 the skull and to the jaws. The skull was 
 rough and unequal in several places : and 
 about the middle of the forehead there were 
 two bony crests, about two inches high : the 
 skull between these two crests was proof 
 against a musket-ball ; for it oniy rendered 
 the part a little white that it struck against. 
 The eye was very small, in proportion to the 
 rest of the body, and was so placed within its 
 orbit, that the outward part, when the lid was 
 closed, was only an inch long, and the line 
 running parallel to the opening of the jaws. 
 It was covered with a double lid, one within 
 and one without : that within, like the nicti- 
 tating membrane in birds, was folded in the 
 great corner of the eye, and had a motion to- 
 wards the tail, but being transparent, it cover- 
 ed the eye without hindering the sight. The 
 iris was very large in proportion to the globe 
 of the eye, and was of a yellowish gray colour. 
 Above the eye the ear was placed, which open- 
 ed from above downwards, as if it were by a 
 kind of spring, by means of a solid, thick, car- 
 tilaginous substance. The nose was placed 
 in the middle of the upper jaw, near an inch 
 from its extremity, and was perfectly round 
 and flat, being near two inches in diameter, 
 of a black, soft, spongy substance, not unlike 
 the nose of a dog. The jaws seemed to shut 
 one within another ; and nothing can be more 
 false than that the animal's under jaw is with- 
 out motion ; it moves like the lower jaw in 
 all other animals, while the upper is fixed to 
 the skull, and absolutely immoveable. The 
 animal had twenty-seven cutting teeth in the 
 upper jaw, and fifteen in the lower, with seve- 
 ral void spaces between them : they were 
 thick at the bottom, and sharp at the point, 
 being all of different sizes, except ten large 
 hooked ones, six of which were in the lower 
 jaw, and four in the upper. The mouth was 
 fifteen inches in length, and eight and a half 
 
 in breadth, where broadest. The distance of 
 the two jaws, when opened as wide as they 
 could be, was fifteen inches and a half; this 
 is a very wide yawn, and could easily enough 
 take in the body of a man. The colour of 
 the body was of a dark brown on the upper 
 part, and of a whitish citron below, with large 
 spots of both colours on the sides. From the 
 shoulders to the extremity of the tail, the ani- 
 mal was covered with large scales, of a square 
 form, disposed like parallel girdles, and fifty- 
 two in number ; but those near the tail were 
 not so thick as the rest. The creature was 
 covered not only with these, but all over with 
 a coat of armour ; which, however, was not 
 proof against a musket-ball, contrary to what 
 has been commonly asserted : however, it 
 must be confessed, that the attitude in which 
 the animal was placed, might contribute to 
 render the skin more penetrable ; for, proba- 
 bly, if the hall had struck obliquely against the 
 shell, it would have flown off. Those parts 
 of the girdles underneath the belly were of a 
 whitish colour, and were made up of scales 
 of divers shapes, but not so hard as those on 
 the back. 
 
 With respect to the internal parts of the ani- 
 mal, the gullet was large in proportion to the 
 mouth ; and a ball of wood as large as one's 
 head, readily ran down, and was drawn up 
 again. The guts were but short, in compari- 
 son, being not so long as the animal's body. 
 The tongue, which some have erroneously 
 asserted this animal was without, consisted of 
 a thick spongy soft flesh, and was strongly 
 connected to the lower jaw. The heart was 
 of the size of a calf's, of a bright red colour, 
 the blood passing as well from the veins to the 
 aorta as into the lungs. There was no blad- 
 der ; but the kidneys sent the urine to be dis- 
 charged by the anus. There were sixty-two 
 joints in the back-bone, which, though very 
 closely united, had sufficient play to enable 
 the animal to bend like a bow to the right and 
 the left; so that \\hat we hear of escaping the 
 creature by turning out of the right line, and 
 of the animal not being able to wheel readily 
 after its prey, seems to be fabulous. It is most 
 likely the crocodile can turn with ease, for the 
 joints of its back are not stiffer than those of 
 other animals, which we know, by experience, 
 can wheel about very nimbly for their size. 
 
 Such is the figure and conformation of this 
 
THE LIZARD KIND. 
 
 713 
 
 formidable animal, that unpeoples countries, 
 and makes the most navigable rivers desert 
 and dangerous. They are seen, in some 
 places, lying for whole hours, and even days, 
 stretched in the sun, and motionless ; so that 
 one not used to them might mistake them for 
 trunks of trees, covered with a rough and dry 
 bark; but the mistake would soon be fatal, if 
 not prevented : for the torpid animal, at the 
 near approach of any living thing, darts upon 
 it with instant swiftness, and at once drags it 
 down to the bottom. In the times of an in- 
 undation, they sometimes enter the cottages 
 of the natives, where the dreadful visitant 
 seizes the first animal it meets with. There 
 have been several examples of their taking a 
 man out of a canoe in the sight of his com- 
 panions, without their being able to lend him 
 any assistance. 
 
 The strength of every part of the crocodile 
 is very great ; and its arms, both offensive and 
 defensive, irresistible. We have seen, from 
 the shortness of its legs, the amazing strength 
 of the tortoise : but what is the strength of 
 such an animal, compared to that of the cro- 
 codile, whose legs are very short, and whose 
 size is so superior ! The back-bone is jointed 
 in the firmest manner ; the muscles of the fore 
 and hinder legs are vigorous and strong ; and 
 its whole form calculated for force. Its teeth 
 are sharp, numerous, and formidable ; its 
 claws are long and tenaceous ; but its princi- 
 pal instrument of destruction is the tail : with 
 a single blow of this it has often overturned a 
 canoe, and seized upon the poor savage its 
 conductor. 
 
 Though not so powerful, yet it is very terri- 
 ble even upon land. The crocodile seldom, 
 except when pressed by hunger, or with a 
 view of depositing its eggs, leaves the water. 
 Its usual method is to float along upon the 
 surface, and seize whatever animals come 
 within its reach ; but when this method fails, 
 it then goes closer to the bank. Disappointed 
 of its fishy prey, it there waits covered up 
 among the sedges, in patient expectation of 
 some land animal that comes to drink ; the 
 dog, the bull, the tiger, or man himself. No- 
 thing is to be seen of the insidious destroyer 
 as the animal approaches ; nor is its retreat 
 discovered, till it be too late for safety. It 
 seizes the victim with a spring, and goes at a 
 bound much farther than so unwieldy an ani- 
 
 mal could be thought capable of exerting, 
 then having secured the creature with both 
 teeth and claws, it drags it into the water, in- 
 stantly sinks with it to the bottom, and, in 
 this manner, quickly drowns it. 
 
 Sometimes it happens that the creature the 
 crocodile has thus surprised escapes from its 
 grasp wounded, and makes off from the river 
 side. In such a case the tyrant pursues \\ith 
 ad its force, and often seizes it a second tin < ; 
 for, though seemingly heavy, the crocod!:<: 
 runs with great celerity. In this manner i; is 
 sometimes seen above half a mile from the 
 bank, in pursuit of an animal wounded be- 
 yond the power of escaping, and then drag- 
 ging it back to the river-side, where it leasts 
 in security. 
 
 It often happens, in its depredations along 
 the bank, that the crocodile seizes on a crea- 
 ture as formidable as itself, and meets with a 
 most desperate resistance. We are told of 
 frequent combats between the crocodile and 
 the tiger. All creatures of the tiger kind are 
 continually oppressed by a parching thirst, 
 that keeps them in the vicinity of great rivers, 
 whither they descend to drink very frequently. 
 It is upon these occasions that they are seized 
 by the crocodile; and they die not unrevenged. 
 The instant they are seized upon, they turn 
 with the greatest agility, and force their claws 
 into the crocodile's eyes, while he plunges 
 with his fierce antagonist into the river. There 
 they continue to struggle for some time, till at 
 last the tiger is drowned. 
 
 In this manner the crocodile seizes and de- 
 stroys all animals, and is equally dreaded by 
 all. There is no animal but man alone that 
 can combat it with success. We are assured 
 by Labat, that a Negro, with no other wea- 
 pons than a knife in his~ right hand, and his 
 left arm wrapped round with a cow-hide, ven- 
 tures boldly to attack this animal in its own 
 element. As soon as he approaches the cro- 
 codile, he presents his left arm, which the ani- 
 mal swallows most greedily ; but sticking in 
 its throat, the Negro has time to give it seve- 
 ral stabs under the throat ; and the water also 
 getting in at the mouth, which is held involun- 
 tarily open, the creature is soon bloated up as 
 big as a tun, and expires. 
 
 To us who live at a distance from the* 
 rapacity of these animals, these stories 
 appear strange, and yet most probably are 
 
714 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 true. From not having seen any thing so for- 
 midable or bold in the circle of our own ex- 
 perience, we are not to determine upon the 
 wonderful transactions in distant climates. It 
 is probable. that these, and a number of more 
 dreadful encounters, happen every day among 
 those forests and in those rivers where the 
 most formidable animals are known to reside; 
 where the elephant and rhinoceros, the tiger 
 and the hippopotamus, the shark and the cro- 
 codile, have frequent opportunities of meet- 
 ing, and every day of renewing their engage- 
 ments. 
 
 Whatever be the truth of these accounts, 
 certain it is that crocodiles are taken by the 
 Siamese in great abundance. The natives of 
 that empire seem particularly fond of the cap- 
 ture of all the great animals with which their 
 country abounds. We have already seen 
 their success in taking and taming the elephant ; 
 nor are they less powerful in exerting their 
 dominion over the crocodile. The manner of 
 taking it in Siam, is by throwing three or four 
 strong nets across a river, at proper distances 
 from each other ; so that if the animal breaks 
 through the first, it may be caught by one of 
 the rest. When it is first taken, it employs 
 the tail, which is the grand instrument of 
 strength, with great force ; but after many 
 unsuccessful struggles, the animal's strength is 
 at last exhausted. Then the natives approach 
 their prisoner in boats, and pierce him with 
 their weapons in the most tender parts, till he 
 is weakened with the loss of blood. When he 
 has done stirring, they begin by tying up his 
 mouth, and with the same cord they fasten his 
 head to bis tail, which last they bend back 
 like a bow. However, they are not yet per- 
 fectly secure from his fury ; but, for their 
 greater safety, they tie his fore-feet, as well as 
 those behind, to the top of his back. These 
 precautions are not useless : for if they were 
 to omit them, the crocodile would soon re- 
 cover strength enough to do a great deal of 
 mischief. 
 
 The crocodile, thus brought into subjection, 
 or bred up young, is used to divert and enter- 
 tain the great men of the East. It is often 
 managed like a horse ; a curb is put into its 
 mouth, and the rider directs it as he thinks 
 proper. Though awkwardly formed, it does 
 not fail to proceed with some degree of swift- 
 ness ; and is thought to move as fast as some 
 
 of the most unwieldy of our own animals, the 
 hog or the cow. Some, indeed, asM rt, that 
 no animal could escape it, but for its difficulty 
 in turning ; but to this resource we could wish 
 none would trust who are so unhappy as to 
 find themselves in danger. 
 
 Along the rivers of Africa this animal is 
 sometimes taken in the same manner as the 
 shark. Several Europeans go together in a 
 large boat, and throw out a piece of beef upon 
 a hook and strong fortified line, which the 
 crocodile seizing and swallowing, is drawn 
 along, floundering and struggling until its 
 strength is quiio exhausted, when it is pierced 
 in the belly, which is its tendercst part; and 
 thus, after numberless wounds, is drawn ashore. 
 In this part of the world also, as well as at 
 Siam, the crocodile makes an object of savage 
 pomp near the palaces of their monarchs. 
 Philips informs us, that at Sahi, on the slave 
 coast, there are two pools of water, near the 
 royal palace, where crocodiles are bred, as 
 we breed carp in our ponds in Europe. 
 
 Hitherto I have been describing the croco- 
 dile as it is found in unpeopled countries, and 
 undisturbed by frequent encounters \\ ith man- 
 kind. In this state it is fierce and cruel, at- 
 tacking every object that seems endued with 
 motion : but in Egypt, and other countries 
 long peopled, where the inhabitants are 
 civilized, and the rivers frequented, this ani- 
 mal is solitary and fearful. So far from com- 
 ing to attack a man, it sinks at his approach 
 with the utmost precipitation ; and, as if sen- 
 sible of superior power, ever declines the 
 engagement. We have seen more than one 
 instance in animated nature of the contempt 
 which at first the lower orders of the creation 
 have for man, till they have experienced his 
 powers of destruction. The lion and the tiger 
 among beasts, the whale among fishes, the 
 nlb'itross and the penguin among birds, meet 
 the first encounters of man without dread or 
 apprehension : but they soon learn to acknow- 
 ledge his superiority, and take refuge from his 
 power in the deepest fastnesses of nature. 
 This may account for the different characters 
 which have been given us of the crocodile and 
 the alligator, by travellers at different times ; 
 some describing them as harmless and fearful, 
 as ever avoiding the sight of man, and prey- 
 ing only upon fishes: others ranking them 
 among the destroyers of nature ; describing 
 
THE LIZARD KIND. 
 
 
 them as furnished with strength, and impelled 
 by malignity, to do mischief; representing 
 them as the greatest enemies of mankind, and 
 particularly desirous of human prey. The 
 truth is, the animal has been justly described 
 by both ; being such as it is found in places 
 differently peopled or differently civilized. 
 Wherever the crocodile has reigned long un- 
 molested, it is there fierce, bold, and danger- 
 ous; wherever it has been harassed by man- 
 kind, its retreats invaded, and its numbers 
 destroyed, it is there timorous and inoffensive. 
 
 In some places, therefore, this animal, in- 
 stead of being formidable, is not only inoffen- 
 sive, but is cherished and admired. In the 
 river San Domingo, the crocodiles are the 
 most inoffensive animals in nature; the chil- 
 dren play with them, and ride about on their 
 backs ; they even beat them sometimes, with- 
 out receiving the smallest injury. It is true 
 the inhabitants are very careful of this gentle 
 breed, and consider them as harmless domes- 
 tics. 
 
 It is probable that the smell of musk, which 
 all these animals exhale, may render them 
 agreeable to the savages of that part of 
 Africa. They are often known to take the part 
 of this animal which contains the musk, and 
 wear it as a perfume about their persons. 
 Travellers are not agreed in what part of the 
 body these musk-bags are contained ; some 
 say in the ears ; some, in the parts of gene- 
 ration ; but the most probable opinion is, that 
 this musky substance is amassed in the glands 
 under the legs and arms. From whatsoever 
 part of the body this odour proceeds, it is 
 very strong and powerful, tincturing the flesh 
 of the whole body with its taste and smell. 
 The crocodile's flesh is at best very bad, tough 
 eating; but unless the musk-bags be sepa- 
 rated, it is insupportable. The Negroes them- 
 selves cannot well digest the flesh; but then, 
 a crocodile's egg is to them the most delicate 
 morsel in the world. Even savages exhibit 
 their epicures as w r ell as we ; and one of true 
 taste will spare neither pains nor danger to 
 furnish himself with his favourite repast. For 
 this reason, he often watches the places where 
 the female comes to lay her eggs, and upon 
 her retiring, seizes the booty. 
 
 All crocodiles breed near fresh waters; and 
 though they are sometimes found in the sea, 
 
 NO. 61 & 62. 
 
 yet that may be considered rather as a place 
 of excursion than abode. They produce their 
 young by eggs, as was said above ; and for 
 this purpose the female, when she comes to 
 lay, chooses a place by the side of a river, or 
 some fresh-water lake, to deposite her brood 
 in. She always pitches upon an extensive 
 sandy shore, where she may dig a hole with- 
 out danger of detection from the ground being 
 fresh turned up. The shore must also be 
 gentle and shelving to the water, for the great- 
 er convenience of the animal's going and re- 
 turning; and a convenient place must be found 
 near the edge of the stream, that the young 
 may have a shorter way to go. When all 
 these requisites are adjusted, the animal is 
 seen cautiously stealingupon shore to deposite 
 her burden. The presence of a man, a beast, 
 or even a bird, is sufficient to deter her at 
 that time; and if she perceives any creature, 
 looking on, she infallibly returns. If, however, 
 nothing appears, she then goes to work, 
 scratching up the sand with her fore-paws, 
 and making a hole pretty deep in the shore. 
 There she deposites from eighty to a hundred 
 eggs, of the size of a tennis-ball, and of the 
 same figure, covered with a tough white skin 
 like parchment. She takes above an hour to 
 perform this task; and then covering up the 
 place so artfully that it can scarcely be per- 
 ceived, she goes back to return again the next 
 day. Upon her return, with the same pre- 
 caution as before, she lays about the same 
 number of eggs; and the day following also 
 a like number. Thus having deposited her 
 whole quantity, and having covered them 
 close up in the sand, they are soon vivified 
 by the heat of the sun ; and at the end of thir- 
 ty days, the young ones begin to break open 
 the shell. At this time the female is instinc- 
 tively taught that her young ones want relief; 
 and she goes upon land to scratch away the 
 sand, and set them free. Her brood quickly 
 avail themselves of their liberty ; a part run 
 unguided to the water; another part ascend 
 the back of the female, and are carried thi- 
 ther in greater safety. But the moment they 
 arrive at the water, all natural connexion is 
 at an end : when the female has introduced 
 her young to their natural element, not only 
 she, but the male, become among the num- 
 ber of their most formidable enemies, and de- 
 5H 
 
716 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 vour as many of them as they can. The 
 whole brood scatters into different parts of the 
 bottom ; by far the greatest number are de- 
 stroyed, and the rest find safety in their agility 
 or minuteness. 
 
 But it is not the crocodile alone that is thus 
 found to thin their numbers; the eggs of this 
 animal are not only a delicious feast to the 
 savage, but are eagerly sought after by every 
 beast and bird of prey. The ichneumon was 
 erected into a deity among the ancients for its 
 success in destroying the eggs of these mon- 
 sters : at present that species of the vulture 
 called the Gallinazo is their most prevailing 
 enemy. All along the banks of great rivers, 
 for thousands of miles, the crocodile is seen to 
 propagate in numbers that would soon overrun 
 the earth, but for the vulture, that seems ap- 
 pointed by Providence to abridge its fecundity. 
 These birds are ever found in greatest num- 
 bers where the crocodile is most numerous : 
 and, hiding themselves within the thick bran- 
 ches of the trees that shade the banks of the 
 river, they watch the female in silence, and 
 permit her to lay all her eggs without interrup- 
 tion. Then when she has retired, they en- 
 courage each other with cries to the spoil ; 
 and flocking all together upon the hidden 
 treasure, tear up the eggs, and devour them 
 in a much quicker time than they were de- 
 posited. Nor are they less diligent in attend- 
 ing the female while she is carrying her young 
 to the water ; for if any one of them happens 
 to drop by the way, it is sure to receive no 
 mercy. 
 
 Such is the extraordinary account given us 
 by late travellers of the propagation of this 
 animal; an account adopted by Linna3us and 
 the most learned naturalists of the age.* Yet, 
 - 
 
 o Ulloa. b What the author means here by the open- 
 bellied crocodile, we are at a loss to make out : but it is cer- 
 tain that not one of the lizard tribe have any thing like an 
 
 if one might argue from the general analogy 
 of nature, the crocodile's devouring her own 
 young when she gets to the water seerns doubt- 
 ful. This may be a story raised from the 
 general idea of this animal's rapacious cruelty ; 
 when, in fact, the crocodile only seems more 
 cruel than other animals, because it has more 
 power to do mischief. It is probable that it is 
 not more divested of parental tenderness than 
 other creatures, and I am the more led to think 
 so from the peculiar formation of one of the 
 crocodile kind. This is called the Open- 
 Bellied Crocodile, and is furnished with a false 
 belly like the oppossum, where the young 
 creep out and in, as their dangers or necessi- 
 ties require. The crocodile thus furnished at 
 least cannot be said to be an enemy to her 
 own young, since she thus gives them more 
 than parental protection. It is probable, also, 
 that this open-bellied crocodile is viviparous, 
 and fosters her young that are prematurely 
 excluded in this second womb, until they come 
 to proper maturity. 1 " 
 
 How long the crocodile lives we are not 
 certainly informed : if we may believe Aris- 
 totle, i^ lives the age of a man ; but the an- 
 cients so much amused themselves in invent- 
 ing fables concerning this animal, that even 
 truth from them is suspicious. What we know 
 for certain from the ancients is, that among 
 the various animals that were produced to fight 
 in the amphitheatre at Rome, the combat of 
 the crocodile was not wanting.' Marcus 
 Scaurus produced them living in his unrivalled 
 exhibitions ; and the Romans considered him 
 as the best citizen, because he furnished them 
 with the most expensive entertainments. But 
 entertainment at that corrupt time was their 
 only occupation. 
 
 abdominal pouch for the safety of their young. Plin. 
 lib. viii. c. 26, 
 
THE LIZARD KIND. 
 
 717 
 
 CHAPTER CLXII. 
 
 OF THE SALAMANDER. 
 
 THE ancients have described a lizard that 
 is bred from heat, that lives in the flames, and 
 feeds upon fire as its proper nourishment. 
 As they saw every other element, the air, tlie 
 earth, and water, inhabited, fancy was set to 
 work to find or make an inhabitant in fire ; 
 and thus to people every part of nature. It 
 will be needless to say that there is no such 
 animal existing; and that of all others, the 
 modern salamander has the smallest affinity 
 to such an abode. 
 
 Whether the animal that now goes by the 
 name of the Salamander be the same with 
 that described by Pliny, is a doubt with rne ; 
 but this is not a place for the discussion. It 
 is sufficient to observe, that the modern sala- 
 mander is an animal of the lizard kind, and 
 under this name is comprehended a large 
 tribe that all go by the same name. There 
 have been not less than seven sorts of this 
 animal described by Seba ; and to have some 
 idea of the peculiarity of their figure, if we 
 suppose the tail of a lizard applied to the 
 body of a frog, we shall not be far from pre- 
 cision. The common lizard is long, small, 
 and taper; the salamander, like the frog, has 
 its eyes towards the back of the head ; like 
 the frog, its snout is round, and not pointed, 
 and its belly thick and swollen. The claws 
 of its toes are short and feeble; its skin 
 rough; and the tongue, unlike that of the 
 smallest of the lizard kind, in which it is long 
 and forked, is short, and adhering to the un- 
 der jaw. 
 
 But it is not in figure than this animal chief- 
 ly differs from the rest of the lizard tribe; 
 for it seems to differ in nature and conforma- 
 tion. In nature it is unlike, being a heavy 
 torpid animal ; whereas the lizard tribe are 
 active, restless, and ever in motion : in con- 
 formation it is unlike, as the salamander is 
 produced alive from the body of its parent, 
 and is completely formed the moment of its 
 exclusion. It differs from them also in its 
 
 general reputation of being venomous : how- 
 ever, no trials that have been hitherto made 
 seem to confirm the truth of the report. 
 
 Not only this, but many others of the lizard 
 tribe, are said to have venom ; but it were to 
 be wished that mankind, for their own happi- 
 ness, would examine into the foundation of 
 this reproach. By that means many of them, 
 that are now shunned and detested, might ie 
 found inoffensive; their figure, instead of ex- 
 citing either horror or disgust, would then 
 only tend to animate the general scene of 
 nature ; and speculation might examine their 
 manners in confidence and security. Certain 
 it is, that all of the lizard kind, with which 
 we are acquainted in this country, are per- 
 fectly harmless; audit is equally true that, 
 for a long time, till our prejudices were 
 removed, we considered not only the Newt, 
 but the Snake arid the Blind-worm, as fraught 
 with the most destructive poison. At pre- 
 sent we have got over these prejudices; and, 
 it is probable, that if other nations made the 
 same efforts for information, it would be 
 found, that the malignity of most, if not all, of 
 the lizard tribe, was only in the imagination. 
 
 With respect to the Salamander, the whole 
 tribe, from the Moron to the Gekko, are said 
 to be venomous to the last degree ; yet, when 
 experiments have been tried, no arts, no pro- 
 vocations, could excite these animals to the 
 rage of biting. They seem timid and inoffen- 
 sive, only living upon worms and insects; 
 quite destitute of fangs, like the viper, their 
 teeth are so very small that they are hardly able 
 to inflict a wound. But as the teeth are thug 
 incapable of offending, the people of the 
 countries where they are found have recourse 
 to a venomous slaver, which, they suppose, 
 issues from the animal's mouth ; they also 
 tell us of a venom issuing from the claws : 
 even Linnasus seems to acknowledge the fact; 
 but thinks it a probable supposition that this 
 venom may proceed from their urine. 
 5H* 
 
718 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 Of all animals, the Gekko is the most no- 
 torious for its powers of mischief; yet we are 
 told by those who load it with that calumny, 
 that it is very friendly to man, and though 
 supplied with the most deadly virulence, is 
 yet never known to bite. It would he absurd 
 in us, without experience, to pronounce upon 
 the noxious or inoffensive qualities of animals: 
 yet it is most probable, from an inspection of 
 the teeth of lizards, and from their inoffensive 
 qualities in Europe, that the gekko has been 
 unjustly accused; and that its serpent-like 
 figure has involved it in one common reproach 
 with serpents. 
 
 The salamander best known in Europe, is 
 from eight to eleven inches long, usually 
 black, spotted with yellow ; and, when taken 
 in the hand, feeling cold to a great degree. 
 There are several kinds. Our Black Water- 
 Newt is reckoned among the number. The 
 idle report of its being inconsumable in fire, 
 has caused many of these poor animals to be 
 burnt ; but we cannot say as philosophical 
 martyrs, since scarcely any philosopher could 
 think it necessary to make the experiment. 
 When thrown into the fire the animal is seen 
 to burst with the heat of its situation, and to 
 eject its fluids. We are gravely told, in the 
 Philosophical Transactions, that this is a 
 method the animal takes to extinguish the 
 flames ! 
 
 When examined internally, the salamander 
 exhibits little difference from other animals of 
 the lizard kind. It is furnished with lungs 
 that sometimes serve for the offices of breath- 
 jng ; with a heart that has its communications 
 open, so that the animal cannot easily be 
 drowned. The ovary in the female is double 
 the size of what it is in others of this tribe ; 
 and the male is furnished with four testiculi 
 instead of two. But what deserves particu- 
 lar notice is the manner of this animal's bring- 
 in forth its young alive." "The salamander," 
 says my author, " begins to show itself in 
 spring, and chiefly during heavy rains. When 
 the warm weather returns, it disappears; and 
 never leaves its hole, during either great 
 heats or severe colds, both which it equally 
 fears. When taken in the hand, it appears 
 
 Acta Hafniensia, ann. 1676. Observ. 11. Memoires 
 de 1'Academie Royale des Sciences, torn. iii. part 3. p. 80. 
 
 like a lump of ice; it consequently loves the 
 shade, and is found at the feet of old trees 
 surrounded with brushwood at the bottom. 
 It is fond of running along new ploughed 
 grounds; probably to seek lor worms, which 
 are its ordinary food. One of these," con- 
 tinues my author, " 1 took alive some years 
 ago in a ditch that had been lately made. I 
 laid it at the foot of the stairs upon coming 
 home, and there it disgorged from the throat 
 a worm three inches long, that lived for an 
 hour after, though wounded as I suppose by 
 the teeth of the animal. I afterwards cut up 
 another of these lizards, and saw not less 
 than fifty young ones, resembling the parent, 
 come from its womb, all alive, and actively 
 running about the room." It were to be 
 wished the author had used another word 
 beside that of worm; as we now are in doubt 
 whether he means a real worm, or a young 
 animal of the lizard species : had he been 
 more explicit, and had it appeared that it was 
 a real young lizard, which I take to be his 
 meaning, we might here see a wonder of na- 
 ture brought to the proof, which many have 
 asserted, and many have thought proper to 
 deny : I mean the refuge which the young of 
 the shark, the lizard, and the viper kinds, are 
 said to take, by running down the throat of 
 the parent, and there finding a temporary 
 security. The fact, indeed, seems a little ex- 
 traordinary ; and yet it is so frequently at- 
 tested by some, and even believed by others, 
 whose authority is respectable, among the 
 number of whom we find Mr. Pennant, that 
 the argument of strangeness must give way 
 to the weight of authority. 
 
 However this be, there is no doubt of the 
 animal's being viviparous, and producing 
 above fifty at a time. They come from the 
 parent in full perfection, and quickly leave 
 her to shift for themselves. These animals, 
 in the lower ranks of nature, want scarcely 
 any help when excluded ; they soon complete 
 the little circle of their education ; and in a 
 day or two are capable of practising all the 
 arts of subsistence and evasion practised by 
 their kind. 
 
 They are all amphibious, or at least are 
 found capable of subsisting in either element, 
 when placed tlwre : if those taken from land 
 are put into water, they continue there in 
 
THE LIZARD KIND. 
 
 719 
 
 seeming health ; and, on the contrary, those 
 taken from the water will live upon land. In 
 water, however, they exhibit a greater variety 
 in their appearance; and what is equally 
 wonderful with the rest of their history, during 
 the whole spring and summer this water- 
 lizard changes its skin every fourth or fifth 
 day; and during the winter every fifteen days. 
 This operation they perform by means of the 
 mouth and the claws; and it seems a work 
 of no small difficulty and pain. The cast 
 skins are frequently seen floating on the sur- 
 face of the water : they are sometimes seen 
 also with a part of their old skin still sticking 
 to one of their limbs, which they have not 
 been able to get rid of; and thus, like a man 
 with a boot half drawn, in some measure 
 crippled in their own spoils. This also often 
 corrupts, and the leg drops off; but the ani- 
 mal does not seem to feel the want of it, for 
 the loss of a limb to all the lizard kind is but 
 a trifling calamity. They can live several 
 hours even after the loss of their head : and 
 for some time under dissection, all the parts 
 
 of this animal seem to retain life: but the tail 
 is the part that longest retains its motion. 
 Salt seems to be much more efficacious in 
 destroying these animals than the knife ; for 
 upon being sprinkled with it, the whole body 
 emits a viscous liquor, and the lizard dies in 
 throe minutes, in great agonies. 
 
 The whole of the lizard kind are also 
 ' tenacious of life in another respect, and the 
 salamander among the number. They sus- 
 tain the want of food in a surprising manner. 
 One of them, brought from the Indies, lived 
 nine months, without any other food than 
 what it received from licking a piece of earth 
 on which it was brought over:" another was 
 kept by Seba in an empty vial for six months, 
 without any nourishment ; and Rhedi talks 
 of a large one, brought from Africa, that lived 
 for eight months, without taking any nourish- 
 ment whatever. Indeed, as many of this 
 kind, both salamanders and lizards, are tor- 
 pid, or nearly so, during the winter, the loss 
 of thejr appetite for so long a time is the less 
 surprising. 
 
 CHAPTER CLXHI. 
 
 OF THE CHAMELEON, THE IGUANA, AND LIZARDS OF DIFFERENT KINDS. 
 
 IT were to be wished that animals could 
 be so classed, that by the very mentioning 
 their rank, we should receive some insight 
 into their history. This I have endeavoured 
 in most instances; but in the present chapter 
 all method is totally unserviceable. Here 
 distribution gives no general ideas: for some 
 of the animals to be here mentioned produce 
 by eggs ; some by spawn ; and some are vi- 
 viparous. The peculiar manner of propa- 
 gating in each, is very indistinctly known. 
 The Iguana and the Chameleon, we know 
 bring forth eggs ; some others ;ilso produce in 
 the same manner; but of the rest, which na- 
 turalists make amount to above fifty, we have 
 but very indistinct information. 
 
 In the former divisions of this tribe, we had 
 to observe upon animals, formidable from 
 
 their size, or disgusting from their frog-like 
 head and appearance; in the present divi- 
 sion, all the animals are either beautiful to 
 the eye, or grateful to the appetite. The 
 lizards, properly so called, are beautifully 
 painted and mottled; their frolicksome agility 
 is amusing to those who are familiar with 
 their appearance; and the great affection 
 which some of them show to man, should, in 
 some measure, be repaid with kindness. 
 Others, such as the fguana, though not pos- 
 sessed of beauty, are very serviceable, fur- 
 nishing one of the most luxurious feasts the 
 tropical climates can boast of. Those treat- 
 ed of before were objects of curiosity, be- 
 cause they were apparently objects of dan- 
 
 Phil. Trans, ann. 1661. N. 21. art. 7. 
 
720 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 ger: most of these here mentioned have either 
 use or beauly to engage us. 
 
 Directly descending from the crocodile, 
 we find the Cordyle, the Tockay, and the 
 Tejuguacu, all growing less in order, as J 
 have named them. These fill up the chasm 
 to he found hetvveeri the crocodile and the 
 African Iguana. 
 
 The Iguana, which deserves our notice, is 
 about five feet long, and the body about as 
 thick as one's thigh : the skin is covered \vith 
 small scales, like those of a serpent; and the 
 back is furnished with a row of prickles, that 
 stand up, like the teeth of a saw : the eyes | 
 seem to be but half opened, except when the 
 animal is angry, and then they appear large 
 and sparkling: both the jaws are full of very 
 sharp teeth, and the bite is dangerous, though 
 not venomous, for it never lets loose till it is 
 killed. The male has a skin hanging under 
 his throat, which reaches down to his breast; 
 and, when displeased, he puffs it up like a 
 bladder: he is one-third larger and stronger 
 than the female ; though the strength of 
 either avails them little towards their defence. 
 The males are ash-coloured, and the females 
 are green. 
 
 The flesh of these may be considered as 
 tne greatest delicacy of Africa and America; 
 and the sportsmen of those climates go out 
 to hunt the iguana, as we do in pursuit of the 
 pheasant or the hare. In the beginning of 
 the season, when the great floods of the tro- 
 pical climates are past away, and vegetation 
 starts into universal verdure, the sportsmen 
 are seen, with a noose and a stick, wander- 
 ing along the sides of the rivers to take the 
 iguana. The animal, though apparently 
 formed for combat, is the most harmless crea- 
 ture of all the forest: it lives among the trees, 
 or sports in the water, without ever offering 
 to offend; there, having fed upon the flowers 
 of the mahot, and the leaves of the mapou, 
 that grow along the banks of the stream, it 
 goes to repose upon the branches of the trees 
 that hang over the water. Upon the land the 
 animal is swift of foot; but when once in 
 possession of a tree, it seems conscious of 
 the security of its situation, and never offers 
 to stir. There the sportsman easily finds it, 
 and as easily fastens his noose round its 
 neck: if the head be placed in such a man- 
 
 ner that the noose cannot readily be fastened, 
 by hitting the animal a blow on the nose with 
 the stick, it lifts the head, and offers it in 
 some measure to the noose. In this manner, 
 and also by the tail, the iguana is dragged 
 from the trees, and killed by repeated blows 
 on the head. 
 
 The Chameleon is a very different animal; 
 and as the iguana satisfies the appetites of 
 the epicure, this is rather the feast of the 
 philosopher. Like the crocodile, this little 
 animal proceeds from an egg; and it also 
 nearly resembles that formidable creature in 
 form: but it differs widely in its size and its 
 appetites; being not above eleven inches 
 long, and delighting to sit upon trees, being 
 afraid of serpents, from which it is unable to 
 escape on the ground. 
 
 The head of a large chameleon is almost 
 two inches long; and from thence to the be- 
 ginning of the tail, four and a half: the tail is 
 five inches long, and the feet two and a half: 
 the thickness of the body is different at dif- 
 ferent times; for sometimes, from the back 
 to the belly, it is two inches, and sometimes 
 but one; for it can blow itself up, and con- 
 tract itself at pleasure. The swelling and 
 contraction is not only of the back and belly, 
 but of the legs and tail. 
 
 These different tumours do not proceed 
 from a dilatation of the breast in breathing, 
 which rises and falls by turns; but are very 
 irregular, and seem adopted merely from 
 caprice. The chameleon is often seen, as it 
 were, blown up for two hours together; and 
 then it continues growing less and less insen- 
 sibly; for the dilatation is always more quick 
 and visible than the contraction. In this last 
 state the animal appears extremely lean ; the 
 spine of the back seems sharp, and all the 
 ribs may be counted ; likewise the tendons 
 of the legs and arms may be seen very dis- 
 tinctly. 
 
 This method of puffing itself up, is similar 
 to that in pigeons, whose crops are some- 
 times greatly distended with air. The cha- 
 meleon has a power of driving the air it 
 breaths over every part of the body : how- 
 ever, it only gets between the skin and the 
 muscles; for the muscles themselves are 
 never swollen. The skin is very cold to the 
 touch ; and though the animal seems so lean, 
 
THE LIZARD KIND. 
 
 721 
 
 there is no feeling the beating of the heart. 
 The surface of the skin is unequal, and has 
 a grain not unlike shagreen, but very soft, be- 
 cause each eminence is as smooth as if it were 
 polished. Some of these little protuberances 
 are as large as a pin's head, on the arms, legs, 
 belly, and tail ; but on the shoulders and head 
 they are of an oval figure, and a little larger: 
 those under the throat are ranged in the Ibrm 
 of a chaplet, from the lower lip to the breast. 
 The colour of all these eminences, when the 
 chameleon is at rest in a shady place, is of a 
 bluish gray, and the space between is of a 
 pale red and yellow, 
 
 But when the animal is removed into the 
 sun, then comes the wonderful part of its his- 
 tory. At first it appears to suffer no change 
 of colour, its grayish spots still continuing the 
 same : but the whole surface soon seems to 
 imbibe the rays of light; and the simple co- 
 louring of the body changes into a variety of 
 beautiful hues. Wherever the light comes 
 upon the body, it is of a tawny brown; but 
 that part of the skin on which the sun does 
 not shine, changes into several brighter co- 
 lours, pale yellow, or vivid crimson: which 
 forms spots of the size of half one's finger: 
 some of these descend from the spine half 
 way down the back ; and others appear ou 
 the sides, arms, and tail. When the sun has 
 done shining, the original gray colour returns 
 by degrees, and covers all the body. Some- 
 times the animal becomes all over spotted 
 with brown spots, of a greenish cast. When 
 it is wrapt up in a white linen cloth for two 
 or three minutes, the natural colour becomes 
 much lighter; but not quite white, as some 
 authors have pretended: however, from hence 
 it must not be concluded that the chameleon 
 assumes the colour of the objects which it 
 approaches; this is entirely an error, and 
 probably has taken its rise from the continual 
 changes it appears to undergo. 
 
 Le Bruyn, in his Voyage to the Levant, has 
 given us a very ample description of the cha- 
 meleon. During his stay at Smyrna, he bought 
 several of this kind ; and to try how long they 
 could live, kept four of them in a cage, per- 
 mitting them at times to run about the house. 
 The fresh sea-breeze seemed to give them 
 most spirits and vivacity ; they opened their 
 mouths to take it in ; he never perceived that | 
 
 they eat any thing, except now and then a 
 fly, which they took half an hour to swallow: 
 he observed their colour often to change, three 
 or four times successively, without being able 
 to find out any cause tor such alterations; 
 their common colour he found to be gray, or 
 rather a pale mouse colour; but its most fre- 
 quent changes were into a beautiful green, 
 spotted with yellow; sometimes the animal 
 was marked all over with dark brown; and 
 this often changed into a lighter brown : some 
 colours, however, it never assumed ; and, con- 
 trary to what was said above, he found red 
 to be among the number. 
 
 Though our traveller took the utmost care, 
 he was unable to preserve any of them nlive 
 above five months; and many of them died 
 in four. W hen the chameleon changes place, 
 and attempts to descend from an eminence, 
 it moves with the utmost precaution, ad- 
 vancing one leg very deliberately before the 
 other, still securing itself by holding what- 
 ever it can grasp by the tail. It seldom opens 
 its mouth, except for fresh air; and when 
 that is supplied, discovers its satisfaction by 
 its motions, and the frequent changes of its 
 colour. The tongue is sometimes d.irted out 
 after its prey, which is flies; and this is as 
 long as the whole body. The eyes are re- 
 markably little, though they stand out of the 
 head : they have a single eye-lid, like a cap 
 with a hole in the middle, through which the 
 sight of the eye appears, which is of a shining 
 brown; and round it there is a little circle 
 of a gold colour: but the most extraordinary 
 part of their conformation is, that the animal 
 often moves one eye, when the other is entire- 
 ly at rest; nay, sometimes one eye will seem 
 to look directly forward, while the other looks 
 backward; and one will look upward, while 
 the other regards the earth. 
 
 To this class of lizards, we may refer the 
 Dragon, a most terrible animal, but most pro- 
 bably not of nature's formation. Of thisdeath- 
 dealing creature all people have read ; and 
 the most barbarous countries, to this day, paint 
 it to the imagination in all its terrors, and fear 
 to meet it in every forest. It is not enough 
 that nature has furnished those countries with 
 poisons of various malignity ; with serpents 
 forty feet long; with elephants, lions, and ti- 
 gers ; to make their situation really danger* 
 
-722 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 ous, the capricious imagination is set at work 
 to call up new terrors; and scarce a savage 
 is found that does not talk of winged serpents 
 of immoderate length, flying away with the 
 camel or the rhinoceros, or destroying man- 
 kind by a single glare. Happily, however, 
 such ravages are no where found to exist at 
 present; and the whole race of dragons is 
 dwindled down to the Flying Lizard, a little 
 harmless creature, that only preys upon in- 
 sects, and even seems to embellish the forest 
 with its beauty. 
 
 The Flying Lizard of Java perches upon 
 fruit-trees, and feeds upon flies, ants, butter- 
 flies, and other small insects. It is a very 
 harmless creature, and does no mischief in 
 any respect. Geritil, in his Voyage round the 
 World, affirms, that he has seen these lizards 
 at the Island of Java, in the East Indies. He 
 observed they flew very swiftly from tree to 
 tree; and having killed one, he could not but 
 admire the skin, which was painted with se- 
 veral beautiful colours: it was a foot in length, 
 and had four paws, like the common lizards ; 
 but its head was flat, and had a small hole in 
 the middle ; the wings were very thin, and re- 
 sembled those of a flying-fish. About the 
 neck were a sort of wattles, not unlike those 
 of cocks, which gave it no disagreeable 
 appearance. He intended to have pre- 
 served it, in order to bring it into Europe ; 
 but it was corrupted by the heat, before the 
 close of the day : however, they have since 
 been brought into England, and are now 
 
 [Besides these, it may be necessary to mention one 
 more, the Basilisk, so dreadful to the imagination of our 
 ancestors. It is, however, an inoffensive animal, a native 
 of South America. It is distinguished by a long, conic, 
 cap-like protuberance on the head, and a kind of fin like 
 
 common enough in the cabinets of the curi- 
 ous. 
 
 The last animal of the lizard kind that I 
 shall mention, is theChalcidian Lizard of Al- 
 drovandus, very improperly called the Seps 
 by modern historians. This animal seems to 
 make the shade that separates the lizard from 
 the serpent race. It has four legs, like the 
 lizard ; but so short, as to be utterly un- 
 serviceable in walking: it has a long slendet 
 body, like the serpent; and it is said to have 
 the serpent's malignity also. The fore legs 
 are very near the head ; the hind legs are 
 placed far backward ; but before and behind 
 they seem rather useless incumbrances, than 
 instruments serving to assist the animal in its 
 motions, or in providing for its subsistence. 
 These animals are found above three feet 
 long, and thick in proportion, with a large 
 head and pointed snout. The whole body 
 is covered with scales ; and the belly is white 
 mixed with blue. It has four crooked teeth, 
 as also a pointed tail, which, however, can 
 inflict no wound. Whether the teeth be 
 similar to the viper's fangs, we are not told ; 
 though Volateranus says, they are covered 
 with a membrane ; by which I am apt to think 
 he means a venom-bag, which is found at the 
 root of the teeth of all serpents that are poi- 
 sonous. It is viviparous; fifteen young ones 
 having been taken alive out of its belly. Upon 
 the whole, it appears to bear a strong affinity 
 to the viper; and, like that animal, its bite 
 may be dangerous. 
 
 a fish along the back, which it can elevate or depress at 
 pleasure; and is about a foot and a half in length, of great 
 agility, and is said to be able occasionally to switn with 
 perfect ease.] 
 
I GK.Vf'.V /iff A . I 
 I Ji. Crn.tnicur. (.'ttKAT IS > II. l>hnyt',t . '/.Jf/ifi O/UKH Kl> fi . 7,. U. //filiil,ui,f. (,'AKMKX B. 
 
THE SERPENT KIND. 
 
 723 
 
 OF SERPENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER CLX1V. 
 
 OF SERPENTS IN GENERAL. 
 
 WE now come to a tribe that not only their 
 deformity, their venom, their ready malignity, 
 but also our prejudices, and our very religion, 
 have taught us to detest. The serpent has 
 from the beginning been the enemy of man ; 
 and it has hitherto continued to terrify and 
 annoy him, notwithstanding all the arls that 
 have been practised to destroy it. Formidable 
 in itself, it deters the invader from the pursuit; 
 and from its figure capable of finding shelter 
 in a little space, it is not easily discovered by 
 those who would venture to try the encounter. 
 Thus possessed at once of potent arms and in- 
 accessible or secure retreats, it baffles all the 
 arts of man, though never so earnestly bent 
 upon its destruction. 
 
 For this reason, there is scarce a country in 
 the world that does not still give birth to this 
 poisonous brood, that seem formed to quell 
 human pride, and repress the boasts of 
 security. Mankind have driven the lion, die 
 tiger, and the wolf, from their vicinity ; but 
 the snake and the viper still defy their power, 
 and frequently punish their insolence. 
 
 Their numbers, however, are thinned by 
 human assiduity ; and it is possible some of 
 the kinds are wholly destroyed. In none of 
 the countries of Europe are they sufficiently 
 numerous to be trulv terrible ; the philosopher 
 can meditate in the fields without danger, and 
 the lover seek the grove without fearing any 
 wounds but those of metaphor. The various 
 malignity that has been ascribed to European 
 serpents of old, is now utterly unknown ; 
 th 're are not above three or four kinds that 
 are dangerous, and their poison operates in all 
 in the same manner. A burning pain in the 
 part, easily removable by timely applications, 
 
 NO. 61 & 62. 
 
 is the worst effect that we experience from the 
 bite of the most venomous serpents of Europe. 
 The drowsy death, the starting of the blood 
 from every pore, the insatiable and burning 
 thirst, the melting down the solid mass of the 
 whole form into one heap of putrefaction, these 
 are horrors with which we are entirely unac- 
 quainted. 
 
 But though we have thus reduced these dan- 
 gers, having been incapable of wholly re- 
 moving them, in other parts of the world they 
 still rage with all their ancient malignity. 
 Nature seems to have placed them ascentinels 
 to deter mankind from spreading too widely, 
 and from seeking new abodes till they have 
 thoroughly cultivated those at home. In the 
 warm countries that lie within the tropic, as 
 well as in the cold regions of the north, where 
 the inhabitants are'few, the serpents propagate 
 in equal proportion. But of all countries, 
 those regions have them in the greatest abun- 
 dance where the fields are unpeopled and fer- 
 tile, and where the climate supplies warmth 
 and humidity. All along the swarnpy banks 
 of the river Niger or Oroonoko, where the sun 
 is hot, the forests thick, and the men but few, 
 the serpents cling among the branches of the 
 trees in infinite numbers, and carry on an un- 
 ceasing war against all other animals in their 
 vicinity. Travellers have assured us, that 
 they have often seen large snakes twining 
 round the trunk of a tall tree, encompassing it 
 like a wreath, and thus rising and descending 
 at pleasure. In these countries, therefore, the 
 serpent is too formidable to become an object 
 of curiosity, for it excites much more violent 
 sensations. 
 
 We are not, therefore, to reject as wholly 
 
 51 
 
724 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 fabulous, the accounts left us by the ancients 
 of tiie terrible devastations committed by a 
 single serpent. It is probable, in early times, 
 when tin- arts were little known, and mankind 
 were but thinly scattered over the earth, that 
 serpents, continuing undisturbed possessors of 
 the forest, grew to an amazing magnitude ; 
 and every other tribe of animals fell before 
 them. It then might have happened, that 
 serpents reigned the tyrants of a district for 
 centuries together. To animals of this kind, 
 .grown by ti ne and rapacity to a hundred or 
 a hundred and fifty feet in length, the lion, the 
 tiger, an I even the elephant itself, were but 
 feeble opponents. The dreadful monster 
 spread desolation round him ; every creature 
 that had life was devoured, or fled to a dis- 
 tance. That horrible fcetor, which even the 
 commonest and the most harmless snakes are 
 still found to diffuse, might, in these larger 
 ones, become too powerful for any living be- 
 ing to withstand ; and while they preyed with- 
 out distinction, they might thus also have 
 poisoned the atmosphere around them. In 
 this manner, having for ages lived in the hid- 
 den and unpeopled forest, and finding, as their 
 appetites were more powerful, the quantity of 
 their prey decreasing, it is possible they might 
 venture boldly from their retreats, into the 
 more cultivated parts of the country, and carry 
 consternation among mankind, as they had 
 before desolation among the lower ranks of 
 nature. We have many histories of antiquity, 
 prev nting us such a picture ; and exhibiting 
 a whole nation sinking under the ravages of a 
 single serpent. At that time man had not 
 learned the art of uniting the efforts of many, 
 to effect one great purpose. Opposing multi- 
 tudes only added new victims to the general 
 calamity, and increased mutual embarrassment 
 and terror. The animal was therefore to be 
 singly opposed by him who had the greatest 
 strength, the best armour, .and the most un- 
 daunted courage. In such an encounter hun- 
 dreds must have fallen ; till one, more lucky 
 than the rest, by a fortunate blow, or by 
 taking ;he monster in its torpid interval, and 
 surcharged with spoil, might kill, and thus rid 
 hi 1 * country of the destroyer. Such was the 
 original occupation of heroes : and those who 
 first obtained that name, from their destroying 
 the ravagers of the earth, gained it much more 
 deservedly than their successors, who ac- 
 
 quired their reputation only for their skill 
 in destroying each other. But as \\e de- 
 scend into more enlightened antiquity, we find 
 these animals less formidable, as being attack- 
 ed in a more successful manner. We are told> 
 that while Regulus led his army along the 
 banks of the river Bagrada, in Africa, an 
 enormous serpent disputed his passage over. 
 We are assured by Pliny, who says that he 
 himself saw the skin, that it was a hundred 
 and twenty feet long, and that it had destroy- 
 ed many of the army. At last, however, the 
 battering engines were brought out against it; 
 and these assailing it at a distance, it was soon 
 destroyed. Its spoils were carried to Rome, 
 and the general was decreed an ovation for 
 his success. There are, perhaps, few facts 
 better ascertained in history than this : an 
 ovation was a remarkable honour; and was 
 given only for some signal exploit, that did 
 not deserve a triumph : no historian would 
 offer to invent that part of the story at least, 
 without being subject to the most shameful 
 detection. The skin was kept for several 
 years after in the Capitol ; and Pliny says, he 
 saw it there : now, though Pliny was a cre- 
 dulous writer, he was by no means a false 
 one ; and whatever he says he has seen, we 
 may very safely rely on. At present, indeed, 
 such ravages from serpents are scarcely seen 
 in any part of the world ; not but that in 
 Africa and America, some of them are power- 
 ful enough to brave the assaults of men to this 
 day. 
 
 But happily for us, we are placed at such a 
 distance as to take a view of this tribe, with- 
 out fearing for our safety ; we can survey their 
 impotent malignity with the same delight 
 with which the poet describes the terrors of a, 
 dead monster, 
 
 Nequeant expleri corda tuendo 
 Terribiles oculos villosaque setis pectore. 
 
 To us their slender form, their undulating 
 motion, their vivid colouring, their horrid 
 stench, their forky tongue, and their envenom- 
 ed fangs, are totally harmless ; and in this 
 country their uses even serve to counter- 
 balance the mischief they sometimes occa- 
 sion. 
 
 If we t;;ke a survey of serpents in general, 
 they have marks by which they are distia- 
 
THE SERPENT KIND. 
 
 72.") 
 
 guished from all the rest of animated nature. 
 They have the length and the suppleness of 
 the eel, but want fins to swim with : they have 
 the scaly covering and pointed tail of the li- 
 zard, but they want legs to walk with: they 
 have the crawling motion el the worm, but, 
 unlike that animal, they have lungs to breath 
 with: like all the reptile kind, they are re- 
 sentful when offended ; and nature has sup- 
 plied them with terrible arms to revenge every 
 injury. 
 
 Though (hey arc possessed of very different 
 degrees of malignity, yet they are:.!! formida- 
 ble to man, and have a strong similitude of 
 form to each other; and it will be proper to 
 mark the general characters before we de- 
 scend to particulars. With respect to their 
 conformation, all serpents have a very wide 
 mouth, in proportion to the size of the head; 
 and, what is very extraordinary, they can gape 
 and swallow the head of another animal which 
 is three times as big as their own. I have 
 seen a load taken out of the belly of a snake, 
 at Lord Spencer's, near London, the body of 
 which was thrice the diameter of the animal 
 that swallowed it. However, it is no way 
 surprising that the skin of the snake should 
 stretch to receive so large a morsel ; the won- 
 der seems how the jaws could take it in. To 
 explain this, it must be observed that the jaws 
 of this animal do not open as ours, in the man- 
 ner of a pair of hinges, where bones are ap- 
 plied to bones, and play upon one another; 
 on the contrary, the serpent's jaws are held 
 together at the roots by a stretching muscular 
 skin; by which means they open as widely 
 as the animal chooses to stretch them, and 
 admit of a prey much thicker than the snake's 
 own body. The throat, like stretching lea- 
 ther, dilates to admit the morsel ; the stomach 
 receives it in part; and the rt-st remains in 
 the gullet, till putrefaction and the juices of 
 the serpent's body unite to dissolve it. 
 
 As to the teeth, I will talk more of them 
 when I come to treat of the viper's poison; 
 it will be sufficient here to observe, that some 
 serpents havefangs, or canine teeth, and others 
 are without them. The teeth in all are crook- 
 ed and hollow ; and, by a peculiarcontrivance, 
 are capable of being erected or depressed at 
 pleasure. 
 
 The eyes of all serpents are small, if com* 
 
 pared to the length of the body; and though 
 differently coloured in different kinds, yet 
 the appearance of all is malign and heavy; 
 and from their known qualities, they strike 
 the imagination with the idea of a creature 
 meditating mischief. In some, the upper eye- 
 lid is wanting, and theserpenl winks only with 
 that below; in others, the animal has a nic- 
 titating membrane or skin, resembling that 
 which is found in birds, which keeps the eye 
 clean, and preserves the sight. The substance 
 of the eye in all ia hard and horny; .the crys- 
 talline humour occupying a great part of the 
 globe. 
 
 The holes for hearing are very visible in all : 
 but there are no conduits for smelling; though 
 it is probable that some of them enjoy that 
 sense in tolerable perfection. 
 
 Tire tongue in all these animals is long and 
 forky. It is composed of two long fleshy sub- 
 stances, which terminate in sharp points, and 
 are very pliable. At the root it is connected 
 very strongly to the neck by two tendons, 
 that give it a variety of play. Some of the 
 viper kind have tongues a fifth part of the 
 length of their bodies; they are continually 
 darting them out, but they are entirely harm- 
 less, and only terrify those who are ignorant 
 of the real situation of their poison. 
 
 If from the jaws we go on to the gullet, we 
 shall find it very wide for the animal's size, 
 and capable of being distended to a great de- 
 gree; at the bottom of this lies the stomach, 
 which is not so capacious, and receives oidy 
 a part of the prey, while the rest continues 
 in the gullet for digestion. When the sub- 
 stance in the stomach is dissolved into chyle, 
 it passes into the intestines, and from thence 
 goes to nourishment, or to be excluded by 
 the vent. 
 
 Like most other animals, serpents are fur- 
 nished with lungs, which I suppose are ser- 
 viceable in breathing, though we cannot per- 
 ceive the manner in which this operation is 
 performed ; for though serpents are often seen 
 apparently to draw in their breath, yet we 
 cannot find the smallest signs of their ever 
 respiring it again. Their lungs, however, are 
 long and large, and doubtless are necessary 
 to promote their languid circulation. The 
 heart is formed as in the tortoise, the frog, and 
 the lizard kinds, so as to work without the 
 51* 
 
726 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 assistance of the lungs. It is single, the great- 
 est part oi' the blood flowing from the great 
 rein to the great artery by the shortest course. 
 By this contrivance ot" nature we easily ga- 
 ther two consequences that snakes are am- 
 phibious, being equally capable of living on 
 land and in the water; and, that also they 
 are torpid in winter, like the bat, the lizard, 
 and other animals formed in the same man- 
 ner. 
 
 The vent in these animals serves for the 
 emission of the urine and the fasces, and for 
 the purposes of generation. The instrument 
 of generation in the male is double, being 
 forked like the tongue; the ovaries in the 
 female are double also ; arid the aperture is 
 very large, in order to receive the double in- 
 strument of the male. They copulate in their 
 retreats; and it is said by the ancients, that 
 in this situation they appear like one serpent 
 with two heads : but how far this remark is 
 founded in truth, I do not find any of the mo- 
 derns that can resolve me. 
 
 As the body of this animal is long, slender, 
 and capable of bending in every direction, the 
 number of joints in the back-bone are nu- 
 merous beyond what one would imagine. In 
 the generality of quadrupeds, they amount to 
 not above thirty or forty ; in the serpent kind 
 they amount to a hundred and forty- five from 
 the head to the vent, and twenty-five more 
 from that to the tail." The number of these 
 joints must give the back-bone a surprising 
 degree of pliancy ; but this is still increased 
 by the manner in which each of these joints 
 are locked into the other. In man and quad- 
 rupeds, the flat surfaces of the bones arc laid 
 one against the other, and bound tight by 
 sinews ; but in serpents, the bones play one 
 within the other, like ball and socket, so that 
 they have full motion upon each other in every 
 direction. 1 " Thus, if a man were to form a 
 machine composed of so many joints as are 
 found in the back of a serpent, he would find 
 it no easy matter to give it such strength and 
 pliancy at the same time. The chain of a 
 watch is but a bungling piece of workmanship 
 in comparison. 
 
 Though the numbnr of joints in the back- 
 bone is great, yet that of the ribs is still great- 
 
 Charat. Anatona, b Derham, p. 39fc>. 
 
 er; for, from the head to the vent, there are 
 two ribs to every joint, which makes their 
 number two hundred and ninety in all. These 
 ribs are furnished with muscles, four in num- 
 ber; which being inserted into the head, run 
 along to the end of the tail, and give the ani- 
 mal great strength and agility in all its motions. 
 
 The skin also contributes to its motions, 
 being composed of a number of scales, united 
 to each other by a transparent membrane, 
 which grows harder as it grows older, until 
 the animal changes, which is generally done 
 twice a year. This cover then bursts near 
 the head, and the serpent creeps from it, by 
 an undulatory motion, in a new skin, much 
 more vivid than the former. If the old slough 
 be then viewed, every scale will be distinctly 
 seen, like a piece of net-work, and will be 
 found greatest where the part of the body 
 they covered was largest. 
 
 There is much geometrical neatness in the 
 disposal of the serpent's scales, for assisting 
 the animal's sinuous motion. As the edges 
 of the foremost scales lie over the ends of their 
 following scales, so those edges, when the 
 scales are erected, which the animal has a 
 power of doing in a small degree, catch in 
 the ground, like the nails in the wheel of a 
 chariot, and 1 so promote and facilitate the ani- 
 mal's progressive motion. The erecting these 
 scales is by means of a multitude of distinct 
 muscles, with which each ia supplied, and 
 one end of which is tacked each to the mid- 
 dle of the foregoing. 
 
 In some of the serpent kind there is the ex- 
 actest symmetry in these scales; in others 
 they are disposed more irregularly. In some 
 there are larger scales on the belly, and of- 
 ten answering to the number of ribs; in others, 
 however, the animal is without them. Upon 
 this slight difference, Linnreus has founded 
 his distinctions of the various classes of the 
 serpent tribe. Human curiosity, however, 
 and even human interest, seem to plead for 
 a very different method of distribution. Il is 
 not the number of scales on a formidable ani- 
 mal's belly, nor their magnitude or variety, 
 that any way excite our concern. The first 
 question that every man will naturally ask, 
 when he hears of a snake, is, whether it be 
 large? the second, whether it be venomous? 
 In other words, the strongest lines in the ani- 
 
THE SERPENT KIND. 
 
 727 
 
 mal's history are those that first excite our at- 
 tention ; find these it is every historian's busi- 
 ness to display. 
 
 When we come to compare serpents with each 
 other, the first groat distinction appears in 
 their size; no other tribe of animals differing 
 so widely in this particular. What, for in- 
 stance, can be so remotely separated as the 
 Great Liboya of Surinam, that grows to thirty- 
 six feet long ; and the Little Serpent, at the 
 Cape of Good Hope, and the north of the 
 river Senegal, that is not above three inches, 
 and covers whole sandy deserts with its multi- 
 tudes ! This tribe of animals, like that of 
 fishes, seems to have no bounds put to their 
 growth : their bones are in a great measure 
 cartilaginous, and they are consequently capa- 
 ble of great extension : the older, therefore, a 
 serpent becomes, the larger it grows ; and as 
 they seem to live to' a great age, they arrive at 
 an enormous size. 
 
 Leguat assures us, that he saw one in Java, 
 that was fifty feet long. Carli mentions their 
 growing to above forty feet ; and we have now 
 the skin of one in the Museum, that measures 
 thirty-two. Mr. Wentworth, who had large 
 concerns in the Berbices in America, assures 
 me, that, in that country, they grow to an 
 enormous length. He one day sent out a 
 soldier, with an Indian, to kill wild fowl for 
 the table ; and they accordingly went some 
 miles from the fort : in pursuing their game, 
 the Indian, who generally marched before, 
 beginning to tire, went to rest himself upon 
 the fallen trunk of a tree, as he supposed it to 
 be ; but when he was just going to sit down, 
 the enormous monster began to move, and the 
 poor savage perceiving that he had approach- 
 ed a Liboya, the greatest of all the serpent 
 kind, dropped down in an agony. The 
 soldier who perceived at some distance what 
 had happened, levelled at the serpent's head, 
 and, by a lucky aim, shot it dead : however, 
 he continued his fire until he was assured that 
 the animal was killed ; and tlwm going up to 
 rescue his companion, who was fallen motion- 
 less by its sii'e, he, to his astonishment, found 
 him dead likewise, being killed by the fright. 
 Upon his return to the fort, an i telling what had 
 happened, Mr. Wentworth ordered the animal 
 to be brought up, when it was measured, and 
 found to be shirty-six feet long. He had the 
 skin stuffed, and thea sent to Europe, as a 
 
 present to the Prince of Orange, in whose 
 cabinet it is now to be seen at the Hague ; 
 but the skin has shrunk, by drying, two or 
 three feet. 
 
 In the East Indies they grow also to an 
 enormous size ; particularly in the island of 
 Java, where, we are assured, that one of them 
 will destroy and devour a buffalo. In a letter, 
 printed in the German Ephemcrides, we have 
 an account of a combat between an enormous 
 serpent and a buffalo, by a person, who assures 
 us that he was himself a spectator. The ser 
 pent had for some time been waiting near the 
 brink of a pool, in expectation of its prey : 
 when a buffalo was the first that offered 
 Having darted upon the affrighted animal, it 
 instantly began to wrap it round with its 
 voluminous twistings ; and at every twist the 
 bones of the buffalo were heard to crack 
 almost as loud as the report of a cannon. It 
 was in vain that the poor animal struggled and 
 bellowed ; its enormous enemy entwined it too 
 closely to get free ; till at length, all its bones 
 being mashed to pieces, like those of a male- 
 factor on the wheel, and the whole body re- 
 duced to one uniform mass, the serpent un- 
 twined its folds to swallow its prey at leisure. 
 To prepare for this, and in order to make the 
 body slip down the throat more glibly, it was 
 seen to lick the whole body over, and thus 
 cover it with its mucus. It then began to 
 swallow it at that end that offered least resist- 
 ance; while its length of body was dilated to 
 receive its prey, and thus took in t once a 
 morsel that: was three times its own thickness. 
 We are assured by travellers, that these ani- 
 mals are often found with the body of a stag 
 in their gullet, while the horns, which they arc 
 unable to swallow, keep sticking out at their 
 mouths. 
 
 But it is happy for mankind that the 
 rapacity of these frightful creatures is often 
 their punishment ; for whenever any of the 
 serpent kind have gorged themselves in this 
 manner, whenever their body is seen particu- 
 larly diste.nded with food, they then become 
 torpid, and may lie approached and destroyed 
 with safety. Patient of hunger to a surprising 
 degree, whenever they seize and swallow their 
 prey, they seem, like surfeited gluttons, un- 
 wieldy stupid, helpless, and sleepy : they at 
 that time seek some retreat, where they may 
 lurk, for several days together, and digest their 
 
728 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 meal in safety : the smallest effort at that time 
 is capable of destroying them; they can 
 scarcely make any resistance; and they are 
 equally unqualified for flight or opposition : 
 that is the happy opportunity of attacking 
 thorn with success: at that time the naked 
 Indian himself does not fear to assail them. 
 But it is otherwise when this sleepy interval 
 of digestion is over; they then issue, with 
 famished appetite?, from their retreats, and 
 with accumulated terrors, while every ani- 
 mal of the forest flies before them. 
 
 Carli describes the Long Serpent of Congo, 
 making its track through the tall grass, like 
 mowers in a Bummer's day. He could not 
 without terror behold whole lines of grass ly- 
 ing levelled under the sweep of its tail. In 
 this manner it moved forward with great -ra- 
 pidity, until it found a proper situation fre- 
 quented by its prey: there it continued to 
 lurk, in patient expectation, and would have 
 remained for weeks together, had it not been 
 disturbed by the natives. 
 
 Other creatures have a choice in their pro- 
 vision; but the serpent indiscriminately preys 
 upon all; the buffalo, the tiger, and the ga- 
 zelle. One would think that the porcupine's 
 quills might be sufficient to protect it; hut 
 whatever has life, serves to appease the hun- 
 ger of these devouring creatures : porcupines, 
 with all their quills, have frequently been 
 found in their stomachs, when killed and open- 
 ed ; nay, they most frequently are seen to 
 devour each other. 
 
 A li-fe of savage hostility in the forest, offers 
 the imagination one of the most tremendous 
 pictures in nature. In those burning coun- 
 tries, where the sun dries up every brook for 
 hundreds of miles round ; when what had the 
 appearance of a great river in the rainy sea- 
 son, becomes, in summer, one dreary bed of 
 sand in those countries, I say, a lake that 
 is never dry, or a brook that is perennial, is 
 considered by every animal as the greatest 
 convenience of nature. As to food, the luxu- 
 riant landscape supplies that in sufficient 
 abundance: it is the want of water that all 
 animals endeavour to remove ; and inwardly 
 parched by the heat of the climate, traverse 
 whole deserts to find out a spring. When 
 they have discovered this, no dangers can 
 deter them from attempting to slake their 
 
 thirst. Thus, the neighbourhood of a rivulet, 
 in the heart of the tropical continents, is ge- 
 nerally the place where all the hostile tribes 
 of nature draw np for the engagement. On 
 the banks of this little envied spot, thousands 
 of animals of various kinds are seen venturing 
 to quench their thirst, or preparing to seize 
 their prey. The elephants are perceived, in 
 a long line, marching from the darker parts 
 of the forest ; the buffaloes arc there, depend- 
 ing upon numbers for security; the gazelles, 
 relying solely upon their swiftness; the lion 
 and tiger, waiting a proper opportunity to 
 seize; but chiefly the larger serpents nrc 
 upon guard there, and defend the accesses 
 of the Like. Not an hour passes without 
 some dreadful combat; but the serpent, de- 
 fended by its scales, and naturally capable 
 of sustaining a multitude of wounds, is, of all 
 others, the most formidable. It is the most 
 wakeful also; for the whole tribe sleep with 
 their eyes open, and are, consequently, for 
 ever upon the watch: so that, till their ra- 
 pacity is satisfied, few other animals will ven- 
 ture to approach their station. 
 
 But though these animals are, of all others, 
 the most voracious, and though the morsel 
 which they swallow without chewing, is great- 
 er than what any other creature, either by 
 land or water, the whale itself not excepted, 
 can devour, yet no animals upon earth bear 
 abstinence so long as they. A single meal, 
 with many of the snake kind, seems to be the 
 adventure of a season; it is an occurrence 
 for which they have been for weeks, nay, 
 sometimes for months, in patient expectation 
 of. When they have seized their prey, their 
 industry for several weeks is entirely discon- 
 tinued : the fortunate capture of an hour, often 
 satisfies them for the remaining period of their 
 annual activity. As their blood is colder 
 than that of most other terrestrial animals, 
 and as it circulates but slowly through their 
 bodies, so their powers of digestion are but 
 feeble. Their prey continues, for a long time, 
 partly in the stomach, partly in the gullet, 
 and a part is often seen hanging out of the 
 mouth. In this manner, it digests by degrees ; 
 and in proportion as the .part below is dis- 
 solved, the part above is taken in. It is not, 
 therefore, till this tedious operation is entire- 
 ly performed, that the serpent renews its ap- 
 
THE SERPENT KIND. 
 
 729 
 
 petite and its activity. But should any ac- 
 cident prevent it from issuing once more from 
 its cell, it still can continue to bear famine 
 for weeks, months, nay, for years together. 
 Vipers are often kept in boxes for six or eight 
 months, without any food whatever; and there 
 are little serpents sometimes sent over to 
 Europe from Grand Cairo, the name of which 
 I have not been able to learn, that live for 
 several years in glasses, and never eat at all, 
 nor even stain the glass with their excrements. 
 Thus the serpent tribe unite in themselves 
 two very opposite qualities; wonderful ab- 
 stinence, and yet incredible rapacity. 
 
 If, leaving the consideration of their appe- 
 tites, we corne to compare serpents as to their 
 voices, some are found silent, some have a 
 peculiar cry; but hissing is the sound which 
 they most commonly send forth, either as a 
 call to their kind, or as a threat to their ene- 
 mies. In the countries where they abound ; 
 they are generally silent in the middle of the 
 day, when they are obliged to retire from the 
 heat of the climate ; but as the cool of the 
 evening approaches, they are then heard is- 
 suing from their cells, with continued hissings; 
 and such is the variety of their notes, that 
 some have assured me they very much re- 
 semble the music of an English grove. This 
 some will hardly credk at any rate, such 
 notes, how over pleasing, can give but very 
 little delight, when we call to mind the ma- 
 lignity of the minstrel. If considered, indeed, 
 as they answer the animal's own occasions, 
 they will be found well adapted to its nature, 
 and fully answering the purposes of terrifying 
 such as would venture to offend it. 
 
 With respect to motion, some serpents, par- 
 ticularly those of the viper kind, move slowly ; 
 while others, such as the Ammodytes, dart 
 with amazing swiftness. The motion in all 
 is similar; but the strength of body in some 
 gives a yery different appearance. The viper, 
 that is but a slow feeble-bodied: animal, makes 
 way in a heavy undulating manner; ad- 
 vancing its head, then drawing up its tail be- 
 hind, and beading the body into a bow; then 
 from the spot where the head and tail were 
 united, advancing the head forward as before. 
 This, which is the motion of all serpents, is 
 very different from that of the earth-worm 
 or the naked snail. The serpent, as was said 
 
 above, has a back-bone with numerous joints, 
 and this bone the animal has a pow er of bend- 
 ing in every direction, but without being able 
 to shorten or lengthen it at pleasure. The 
 earth-worm, on the other hand, has no back- 
 bone ; but its body is composed of rings, v Inch, 
 like a barber's puff, it can lengthen or shorten 
 as it finds necessary. The earth-worm, there- 
 fore, in order to move forward, lengthens the 
 body ; then, by the fore part clings to the 
 ground, where it has reached, and then con- 
 tracts and brings up its rear: then when the 
 body is thus shortened, the fore part is length- 
 ened again for another progression; and so 
 on. The serpent, instead of shortening the 
 body, bends it into an arch; and this is the 
 principal difference between serpentine and 
 vermicular progression. 
 
 I have instanced this motion in the viper, 
 as most easily discerned ; but there are many 
 serpents that dart with such amazing swiftness, 
 that they appear rather to leap than crawl. 
 It is most probable, however, that no serpent 
 can dart upon even ground farther than its 
 own length at one effort. Our fears, indeed, 
 may increase the force of their speed, which 
 is sometimes found so fatal. We are told by 
 some, that they will dart to a very great dis- 
 tance; but this my inquiries have never been 
 able to ascertain. The manner of progression 
 in the swiftest serpent we know, which is the 
 jaculus, is by instantly coiling itself upoirits 
 tail, and darting from thence to its full extent; 
 then carrying the tail as quick as lightning to 
 the head, coiling and darting again ; and by 
 this means proceeding with extreme rapidity, 
 without ever quilting the ground. Indeed, 
 if we consider the length and the weakness 
 of the back-bone in all these animals; if we 
 regard the make of their vertebra, in which 
 we shall find the junctures all formed to give 
 play, and none to give power; we cannot be of 
 opinion that they have a faculty of springing 
 from the ground, as they entirely want a ful- 
 crum, if I may so express it, from whence to 
 take their spring ; the whole body being com- 
 posed of unsupported muscles and joints that 
 are yielding. It must be confessed, that they 
 dart down from trees upon their prey; but 
 their weight alone is sufficient for that pur- 
 pose, without much effort of their own* 
 Though all serpents are amphibious, some 
 
730 
 
 A HISTORY OP 
 
 arc much fonder of the water than others ; 
 and, though destitute of fins or gills, remain at 
 the bottom, or swim along the surface with 
 great case. From their internal structure, 
 just sketched above, we see how well adapted 
 they are for either element ; and how capable 
 their blood is of circulating at the bottom, as 
 freely as in the frog or the tortoise. They 
 can, however, endure to live in fresh water 
 only : for salt is an effectual bane to the whole 
 tribe. The greatest serpents are most usually 
 found in fresh-water, either choosing it as 
 their favourite element, or finding their prey 
 in such places in the greatest abundance. 
 But that all will live and swim in liquids, ap- 
 pears from the experiment of Rhedi ; who put 
 a serpent into a large glass vessel of wine, 
 where it lived swimming about six hours ; 
 though, when it was by force immersed and 
 kept under that liquid, it lived only one hour 
 and a half. He put another in common 
 water, where it lived three days ; but when it 
 was kept under water, it lived only about 
 twelve hours." Their motion there, however, 
 is perfectly the reverse of what it is upon land ; 
 for, in order to support themselves upon an 
 clement lighter than their bodies, they are 
 obliged to increase their surface in a very 
 artificial manner. On earth their windings 
 are perpendicular to the surface ; in water 
 they are parallel to it : in other words, if I 
 should wave my hand up and down, it will 
 give an idea of the animal's progress on land; 
 if I should wave it to the right and left, it 
 will give some idea of its progress on the 
 water. 
 
 Some serpents have a most horrible faetor 
 attending them, which is alone capable of 
 intimidating the brave. This proceeds from 
 two glands near the vent, like those in the 
 weael or polecat ; and, like those animals, in 
 proportion as they are excited by rage or by 
 fear, the scent grows stronger. It would seem, t 
 however, that such serpents as are most ve- 
 nomous, are least offensive in this particular ; i 
 since the rattle -snake and the viper have no 
 smell whatever : nay, we are told that at Ca- 
 licut and Cranganon, in the East Indies, there 
 are some very noxious serpents, who are so 
 far from being disagreeable, that their excre- 
 ments are sought after, and kept as the most 
 
 Rhedi, Exper. p. 170. 
 
 pleasing perfume. The Esculapian Serpent is 
 also of this number. , 
 
 Some serpents bring forth their young alive, 
 as the viper ; some bring forth eggs, which 
 are hatched by the heat of their situation ; as 
 the common black snake, and the majority of 
 the serpent tribe. When a reader, ignorant of 
 anatomy, is told, that some of those animals 
 produce their young alive, and that some pro- 
 duce eggs only, he is apt to suppose a very 
 great difference in the internal conformation, 
 which makes such a variety in the manner of 
 bringing forth. But this is not the case : these 
 animals are internally alike, in whatever man- 
 ner they produce their young ; and the variety 
 in their bringing forth, is rather a slight than 
 a real discrimination. The only difference is, 
 that the viper hatches her eggs, and brings 
 them to maturity within her body ; the snake 
 is more premature in her productions, and 
 sends her eggs into the light some time before 
 the young ones are capable of leaving the shell. 
 Thus, if either are opened, the eggs will be 
 found in the womb, covered with their mem- 
 branous shell, and adhering to each other like 
 large beads on a string. In the eggs of both, 
 young ones will be found, though at different 
 stages of maturity : those of the viper will 
 crawl and bite the moment the shell that en- 
 closes them is broke open ; those of the snake 
 are not yet arrived at their perfect form. 
 
 Father Labat took a serpent of the viper 
 kind, that was nine feet long, and ordered it 
 to be opened in his presence. He then saw 
 the manner in which the eggs of these animals 
 lie in the womb. In this creature there were 
 six eggs, each of the size of a goose egg, but 
 longer, more pointed, and covered with a 
 membranous skin, by which also they were 
 united to each other. Each of these eggs con- 
 tained, from thirteen to fifteen young ones, 
 about six inches long, and as thick as a goose- 
 quill. Though the female from whence they 
 were taken was spotted, the young seemed to 
 have a variety of colours very different from 
 the parent ; and this led the traveller to sup- 
 pose that the colour was no characteristic 
 mark among serpents. These little mischiev- 
 ous animals were no sooner let loose from the 
 shell, than they crept about, and put them- 
 selves into a threatening posture, coiling them- 
 selves up, and biting the stick with which he 
 was destroying them. In this manner he kill- 
 
THE SERPENT KIND. 
 
 731 
 
 ed seventy-four young ones ; those that were 
 contained in one of the eggs escaped at the 
 place where the female was killed, by the 
 bursting of the egg, and their getting among 
 the bushes. 
 
 The last distinction that I shall mention, 
 but the most material among serpents, is, that 
 some are venomous, and some inoffensive. If 
 we consider the poison of serpents as it relates 
 to man, there is no doubt but that it is a 
 scourge and an affliction. The various ca- 
 lamities that the poison of serpents is capa- 
 ble of producing, are not only inflicted by the 
 animal itself, but by men, more mischievous 
 than even serpents, who prepare their vnom 
 to destroy each other. VVith this the savages 
 poison their arms, and also prepare their re- 
 vengeful potions. The ancients were known 
 to preserve it for the purposes of suicide ; and 
 even among semi-barbarous countries at this 
 day, the venom of snakes is used as a philter. 
 
 But, though the poison be justly terrible to 
 us, it has been given to very good purposes 
 for the animal's own proper support and de- 
 fence. Without this, serpents, of all other ani- 
 mals, would be the most exposed and defence- 
 less : without feet for escaping a pursuit; 
 without teeth capable of inflicting a dangerous 
 wound, or without strength for resistance ; in- 
 capable, from their size, of finding security in 
 very soiall retreats, like the earth-worm, and 
 disgusting all from their deformity, nothing 
 was left for them but a speedy extirpation. 
 But furnished as they are with powerful poi- 
 son, every rank of animals approach them with 
 dread, and never seize them but at an advan- 
 tage. Nor is this all the advantage they de- 
 rive from it. The malignity of a few serves 
 for the protection of all. Though not above 
 a tenth of their number are actually venomous, 
 yet the similitude they all bear to each other 
 excites a general terror of the whole tribe ; 
 and the uncertainty of their enemies in which 
 the poison chiefly resides, makes even the 
 most harmless formidable. Thus Providence 
 seems to have acted with double precaution ; 
 it has given some of them poison for the gene- 
 ral defence of a tribe naturally feeble ; but it 
 has thinned the numbers of those which are 
 venomous, lest they should become too power- 
 ful for the rest of Animated Nuture. 
 
 From these noxious qualities in the serpent 
 kind, it is no wonder that not only man, but 
 
 NO. 61 & 62. 
 
 beasts and birds, carry on an unceasing war 
 against them. The ichneumon of the Indians, 
 and the peccary of America, destroy them in 
 great numbers. These animals have the art 
 of seizing them near the head ; and it is said 
 that they can skin them with great dexterity. 
 The vulture and the eagle also prey upon them 
 in great abundance ; and often sousing down 
 from the clouds, drop upon a long serpent, 
 which they snatch up struggling and writhing 
 in the air. Dogs also are bred up to oppose 
 them. Father Feuillee tells us, that being in 
 the woods of Martiriico, he was attacked by a 
 large serpent, which he could not easily avoid, 
 when his dog immediately came to his relief, 
 and seized the assailant with great courage. 
 The serpent entwined him, and pressed him 
 so violently, that the blood came out of his 
 mouth, and yet the dog never ceased till he 
 had tore it to pieces. The dog was not sensi- 
 ble of his wounds during the fight ; but soon 
 after his head swelled prodigiously, and he Jay 
 on the ground as dead. But his master having 
 found hard by a banana tree, he applied its 
 juice, mixed with treacle to the wounds, which 
 recovered the dog, and quickly healed his 
 sores. 
 
 But it is in man that these venomous creatures 
 find the most dangerous enemy. The Psylli 
 of old were famous for charming and destroy- 
 ing serpents. Some moderns pretend to the 
 same art. Cassaubon says, that he knew a 
 man who could at any time summon a hun 
 dred serpents together, and draw them into 
 the fire. Upon a certain occasion, when one 
 of them bigger than the rest would not be 
 brought in, lie only repeated his charm, and 
 it came forward, like the rest, to submit to the 
 flames. Philostratus describes particularly 
 how the Indians charm serpents. " They 
 take a scarlet robe, embroidered with golden 
 letters, and spread it before a serpent's hole. 
 The golden letters have a fascinating power; 
 and by looking steadfastly, the serpent's eyes 
 are overcome and laid asleep." These, and 
 many other feats, have been often practised 
 upon these animals by artful men, who had 
 first prepared the serpents for their exercise, 
 and then exhibited them as adventitiously 
 assembled at their call. In India there is no- 
 thing so common as dancing serpents, which 
 are carried about in a broad flat vessel, some- 
 what resembling a sieve. These erect and put 
 
 5K 
 
732 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 themselves in motion at the word of command. 
 AV ten their keeper sings a slow tune, they 
 seen by their heads to keep time; when he 
 sings a quicker measure, they appear to move 
 brisk and lively. All animals have a certain 
 decree of docility ; and \ve find that serpents 
 themselves can be brought to move and ap- 
 proach at the voice of their master. From 
 this trick, successfully practised before the 
 ignorant, it is most probable has arisen all the 
 bo ssled pretensions which some have made 
 to charming of serpents; an art to which the 
 native Americans pretend at this very day. 
 O.io of Linnneus's pupils, we are told, pur- 
 chased the secret from an Indian, and then 
 discovered it to his master; but, like ail secrets 
 of the kind, it is probable this ended in a few 
 unmeaning words of no efficacy. 
 
 Though the generality of mankind regard 
 this formidable race with horror, yet there 
 have been some nations, and there are some 
 at this day, that consider them with venera- 
 tion and regard. The adoration paid by the 
 ancient Egyptians to a serpent is well known: 
 many of the nations at present along the 
 western coast of Africa retain the same unac- 
 countable veneration. Upon the gold and 
 slave coasts, a stranger, upon entering the 
 cottages of the natives, is often surprised 
 to see the roof swarming with serpents, that 
 cling there without molesting and unmolested 
 by the natives. But his surprise will increase 
 upon going farther southward to the kingdom 
 
 of Widah, when he finds that a serpent is the 
 god of the country. This animal, which tra- 
 vellers describe as a huge, overgrown creature, 
 has its habitation, its temple, and its priests. 
 These impress the vulgar with an opinion of 
 its virtues ; and numbers are daily seen to offer 
 not only their goods, their provisions, and their 
 prayers, at the shrine of their hideous deity, 
 but also their wives and daughters. These 
 the priests readily accept of, and after some 
 days of penance, return them to their sup- 
 pliants, much benefited by the serpent's sup- 
 posed embraces. Such a complicated picture 
 of ignorance and imposture gives no very 
 favourable impressions of our fellow-creatures; 
 but we may say in defence of Human Nature, 
 that the most frightful of reptiles is worshipped 
 by the most uncultivated and barbarous of 
 mankind. 
 
 From this general picture of the serpent 
 tribe, one great distinction obviously presents 
 itself; namely, into those that are venomous, 
 and those that are wholly destitute of poison. 
 To the first belong the viper, the rattlesnake, 
 the cobra di capello, and all their affinities : 
 to the other, the common black snake, the 
 liboya, the boiguacu, the amphisbaena, and 
 various others, that, though destitute of venom, 
 do not cease to be formidable. I will, there- 
 fore, give their history separately, beginning 
 with the venomous class, as they have the 
 strongest claims to our notice and atten- 
 tion. 
 
 CHAPTER CLXV. 
 
 OF VENOMOUS SERPENTS IN GENERAL. 
 
 THE poison of serpents has been for ages 
 one of the greatest objects of human conside- 
 ration. To us, who seldom feel the vengeful 
 wound, it is merely a subject of curiosity ; 
 but to those placed in the midst of the serpent 
 tribe, who are every day exposed to some new 
 disaster, it becomes a matter of the most seri- 
 ous importance. To remedy the bite of a 
 serpent is considered among our physicians, as 
 one of the slightest operations in medicine : 
 but among the physicians of the East, the anti- 
 
 dotes for this calamity make up the bulk of 
 their dispensaries. In our colder climates, the 
 venom does not appear with that instantane- 
 ous operation which it exhibits in the warmer 
 regions ; for either its powers are less exqui- 
 site, or our fluids are not carried round in 
 such rapid circulation. 
 
 In all countries, however, the poison of the 
 serpent is sufficiently formidable to deserve 
 notice, and to excite our attention to its nature 
 and effects. It will, therefore, in the first 
 
THE SERPENT KIND. 
 
 733 
 
 place be proper to describe its seat in the ani- 
 mal, as also the instrument by which the 
 wound is made, and the poison injected. In 
 all this venomous class of reptiles, whether the 
 viper, the rattlesnake, or the cobra di capello, 
 there are two large teeth or fangs that issue 
 from (he upper jaw, and that hang out beyond 
 the lower. The rest of the snake tribe are 
 destitute of these ; and it is most probable that 
 wherever these fangs are wanting, the animal 
 is harmless ; on the contrary, wherever they 
 are found it is to be avoided as the most pesti- 
 lent enemy, These are the instruments that 
 seem to place the true distinction between ani- 
 mals of the serpent kind ; the wounds which 
 these fangs inflict produce the most dangerous 
 symptoms ; the wounds inflicted by the teeth 
 only are attended with nothing more than the 
 ordinary consequences attending the bite of 
 any other animal. Our first great attention, 
 therefore, upon seeing a serpent, should be 
 directed to the teeth. If it has the fang teeth, 
 it is to be placed among the venomous class ; 
 if it wants them, it may be set down as inoffen- 
 sive. I am not ignorant that many serpents 
 are said to be dangerous whose jaws are un- 
 furnished with fangs ; but it is most probable 
 that our terrors only have furnished these ani- 
 mals with venom ; for of all the tribe whose 
 teeth arc thus formed, not one will be found 
 to have a bag for containing poison, nor a 
 conduit for injecting it into the wound. Tho 
 Black Snake, the Liboya, the Blind Worm, 
 and a hundred others that might be mention- 
 ed, have their teeth of an equal size, fixed into 
 the jaws, and with no other apparatus for in- 
 flicting a dangerous wound than a dog or a 
 lizard ; but it is otherwise with the venomous 
 tribe we are now describing ; these are well 
 furnished, not only with an elaboratory where 
 the poison is formed, but a canal by which it 
 is conducted to the jaw, a bag under the tooth 
 for keeping it ready for every occasion, and 
 also an aperture in the tooth itself for injecting 
 it into the wound. To be more particular, 
 the glands that serve to fabricate this venom- 
 ous fluid are situated on each side of the head 
 behind the eyes, and have their canals leading 
 from thence to the bottom of the fangs in the 
 upper jaw, where they empty into a kind of 
 bladder, from whence the fangs on each side 
 are seen to grow. The venom contained in 
 this bladder is a yellowish thick tasteless 
 
 liquor, which injected into the blood is death, 
 yet which may be swallowed without any dan- 
 ger. 
 
 The fangs that give the wound come next 
 under observation ; they are large in propor- 
 tion to the size of the animal that bears them ; 
 crooked, yet sharp enough to inflict a m.dy 
 wound. They grow one on each side, ami 
 sometimes two, from two movcable bones in 
 the upper jaw, which by sliding backward or 
 forward, have a power of erecting or repress- 
 ing the teeth at pleasure. In these hones are 
 a : so fixed many teeth, but no wny venoicovs, 
 and only serving to take and hold (he ariir.oPs 
 prey. Besides this apt disposition of the fargs, 
 they are hollow within, and have an opening 
 towards the point like the slit of a pen, through 
 which, when the fang is pressed down upon 
 the bladder where it grows, there is seen to 
 issue a part of the venom that lay below. To 
 describe this operation at once, when the ser- 
 pent is irritated to give a venomous wound, it 
 opens its formidable jaws to the widest extent ; 
 the rnoveable bones of the upper jaw slide for- 
 ward ; the fangs that lay before inclining are 
 thus erected ; they are struck with force into 
 the flesh of the obnoxious person ; by meeting 
 resistance at the points, they press upon the 
 bladders of venom from whence they grow ; 
 the venom issues tip through the hollow of the 
 tooth, and is pressed out through its slit into 
 the wound, which by this time the tooth has 
 made in the skin. Thus from a slight punc- 
 ture, and the infusion of a drop of venom 
 scarce larger than the head of a pin, the part 
 is quickly inflamed, and, without a proper 
 antidote, the whole frame contaminated. 
 
 The appearances which this venom produces 
 are different, according to the serpent that 
 wounds, or the season, or the strength of the 
 animal that strikes the blow. If a viper in- 
 flicts the wound, and the remedy be neglected, 
 the symptoms are not ithout danger It first 
 causes an acute pain in the place affected, at- 
 tended with a swelling, first red, and after- 
 wards livid. This by degrees spreads to the 
 neighbouring parts; great faintness and a 
 quick, though low and interrupted, pulse 
 ensues : to this succeed great sickness at the 
 stomach, bilious and convulsive vomitings, cold 
 sweats, pains about the navel, and death itself. 
 But the violence of the symptoms depend much 
 on the season of the year, the difference of 
 5K 
 
734 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 the climate, the size or rage of the animal, 
 and the depth and situation of the wound. 
 These symptoms are much more violent, and 
 succeed each other more rapidly after the 
 bite of a rattlesnake; but when the person 
 is bit by the cobra di capello, he dies in an 
 hour, his wliole frame being dissolved into a 
 putrid mass of corruption. 
 
 Nothing surely can more justly excite our 
 wonder, than that so small a quantity of venom 
 should produce such powerful and deadly 
 effects. If the venom itself be examined 
 through a microscope, it will be found to shoot 
 into little crystals, that, to an imagination al- 
 ready impressed with its potency, look like 
 so many darts fit for entering the blood-ves- 
 yels, and wounding their tender coats. But 
 all these darts are wholly of our own making ; 
 the softest mildest flqid whatever, possessed 
 of any consistency, will form crystals under 
 the eye of the microscope, and put on an ap- 
 pearance exactly like the venom of the viper, 
 In fact, this venom has no acrid taste what- 
 ever; and to all experiments that our senses 
 can make upon it, appears a slimy insipid 
 fluid. Charas, who often tasted it, assures 
 us of the fact; and asserts, that it may be 
 taken inwardly without any sensible effects, 
 or any prejudice to the constitution. But 
 the famous experiments that were tried by 
 Rhedi and others, in the presence of the Great 
 Duke of Tuscany and his court, put this be- 
 yond any doubt whatsoever. By these it 
 appeared, that the serpent having once bitten, 
 exhausted for that time the greatest part of 
 its poison ; and though the wound caused by 
 its biting a second time was attended with 
 some malignant symptoms, yet they were 
 much milder than before. It appeared that 
 the serpent biting upon a sponge, or a piece 
 of soft bread, and then biting a dog immediate- 
 ly after, did not inflict a wound more danger- 
 ous than the prick of a needle. It appeared 
 that the venom being collected, and a needle 
 dipped therein, this produced almost as pain- 
 ful effects as the tooth of the animal itself. 
 But what caused the greatest surprise in 
 the court was, the seeming rashness of one 
 Tozzi, a viper-catcher; who* while the phi- 
 losophers were giving elaborate lectures on 
 the danger of the poison when taken inter- 
 nally, boldly desired a large quantity of it 
 
 might be put together; and then, with the 
 utmost confidence, drank it off before them 
 all. The court was struck with astonishment, 
 and expected that the man would instantly 
 fall dead ; but they soon perceived their mis- 
 take, and found that taken in this manner 
 the poison was as harmless as water; so true 
 is that famous passage of Lucan, 
 
 Noxia serpentum est admixto sanguine pestis: 
 Morsu virus habent, et fatum in dente minantur: 
 Pocula morte carent. 
 
 What then shall we say to the speedy ef- 
 fect of so seemingly harmless a liquid taken 
 into the circulation ? Let us first observe, that 
 milk is one of the most mild and nourishing 
 of all fluids, and seemingly the most friendly 
 to the human constitution; yet if milk be in- 
 jected into a vein, it will quickly become fa- 
 tal, and kill with more certain destruction 
 than even the venom of the viper. From 
 hence then we may infer, that the introducing 
 not only the serpentine venom, but also a 
 quantity of any other mixture, into the circu- 
 lation, will be fatal; and that, consequently, 
 serpents kill as well by their power of inject- 
 ing the wound as by the potency of their poi- 
 son. Some indeed may inject a more acri- 
 monious mixture, and this may produce more 
 speedy effects; but any mixture thus inject 
 ed would be dangerous, and many would be 
 fatal. 
 
 Ray gives us an instance of the potency of 
 the serpent-poison ; which though it has all 
 the air of a fable, I cannot help transcribing. 
 " A gentleman who went over to the East In- 
 dies, while he was one day sitting among 
 some friends, was accosted by an Indian jug- 
 gler, who offered to show him some experi- 
 ments respecting the venom of serpents: an 
 exhibition usual enough in that country. Ha- 
 ving first, therefore, produced a large ser- 
 pent, he assured the company that it was 
 harmless ; and to convince them of what he 
 said, he tied up his arm, as is usual with those 
 who are going to be bled, and whipped the 
 serpent till it was provoked to bite him. Ha- 1 
 ving drawn in this manner about half a spoon- 
 ful of blood from his arm. he put the congeal- 
 ed clot upon his thigh. He then took out 
 a much smaller serpent, which was no other 
 
THE SERPENT KIND. 
 
 735 
 
 than the cobra di capello; arid having tied 
 up its neck, he procured about half a drop 
 of its venom, which he sprinkled on the clot 
 of blood on his thigh, which instantly began 
 to ferment and bubble, and soon changed co- 
 lour from a red into a yellow." 
 
 This, he pretended, was caused by the ex- 
 treme malignity of that animal's venom ; how- 
 ever, I have no doubt that the whole is either 
 a fable, or a trick of the Indian's ; who, while 
 he seemed to mix the serpent's venom, ac- 
 tually infused some stronger ingredient, some 
 mineral acid, into the mass of blood, which 
 was capable of working such a change. It 
 cannot be supposed that any animal poison 
 could act so powerfully upon the blood al- 
 ready drawn and coagulated; for a poison 
 that could operate thus instantaneously upon 
 cold blood, could not fail of soon destroying 
 the animal itself. 
 
 Be this as it will, the effects of serpent-poi- 
 son are too well known, though the manner 
 of operation be not so clear. As none of 
 this malignant tribe grow to a great size, the 
 longest of them not exceeding nine feet, they 
 seldom seek the combat with larger animals, 
 or offend others till they are first offended. 
 Did they exert their malignity in proportion 
 to their power, they could easily drive the 
 ranks of nature before them ; but they seem 
 unconscious of their own superiority, and ra- 
 ther fly than offer to meet the meanest opposer. 
 Their food chiefly consists of small prey, such 
 as birds, moles, toads, and lizards ; so that 
 they never attack the more formidable ani- 
 mals that would seldom die unrevenged. 
 They lurk therefore in the clefts of rocks, or 
 among stony places ; they twine round the 
 branches of trees, or sun themselves in the 
 long grass at the bottom. There they only 
 seek repose and safety. If some unwary tra- 
 veller invades their retreats, their first effort 
 is to fly ; but when either pursued or acciden* 
 tally trod upon, they then make a fierce and 
 fatal resistance. For this purpose, they raise 
 themselves according to their strength upon 
 their tail, erect their head, seize the limb that 
 presses them, the wound is given, and the 
 head withdrawn in a moment. It is not there- 
 fore without reason, that the Asiatics, who 
 live in regions where serpents greatly abound, 
 wear boots and long clothes, which very well 
 
 protect their lower parts from the accidental 
 resentment of their reptile annoyers. 
 
 In the eastern and western Indies, the num 
 her of noxious serpents is various ; in this conn 
 try we are acquainted only with one. The 
 viper is the only animal in Great Britain from 
 whose bite we have any thing to fear. In the 
 tropical climates, the rattlesnake, the whip- 
 snake, and the cobra di capello, are the most 
 formidable, though by no means the most com- 
 mon. From the general notoriety of the par- 
 ticular serpents, and the universal terror which 
 they occasion, it would seem that few others 
 arc possessed of such powerful malignity. 
 
 Vipers are found in many parts of this is- 
 land ; but the dry, stony, and particularly the 
 chalky countries, abound with them. This 
 animal seldom grows to a greater length than 
 two feet; though sometimes they are found 
 above three. The ground colour of their bo- 
 dies is a dirty yellow ; that of the female is 
 deeper. The back is marked the whole length 
 with a series of rhomboid black spots; touch- 
 ing eaeh other at the points ; the sides with 
 triangular ones, the belly entirely black. It 
 is chiefly distinguished from the common black 
 snake by the colour, which in the latter is 
 more beautifully mottled, as well as by the 
 head, which is thicker than the body ; but 
 particularly by the tail, which in the viper, 
 though it ends in a point, does not run taper- 
 ing to so great a length as in the other. When, 
 therefore, other distinctions fail, the difference 
 of the tail can be discerned at a single glance. 
 
 The viper differs from most other serpents 
 in being much slower, as also in excluding its 
 young completely formed, and bringing them 
 forth alive. The kindness of Providence seems 
 exerted, not only in diminishing the speed, but 
 also the fertility, of this dangerous creature. 
 They copulate in May, and are supposed to 
 be about three months before they bring forth-, 
 and have seldom above eleven eggs at a time. 
 These are of the size of a blackbird's egg, and 
 chained together in the womb like a string of 
 beads. Each egg contains from one to four 
 young ones ; so that the whole of a brood 
 may amount to about twenty or thirty. They 
 continue in the womb till they come to such 
 perfection as to be able to burst from the 
 shell; and they are said by their own efforts 
 to creep from the confinement into the open 
 air, where they continue for several days with- 
 
736 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 out taking any food whatsoever. "We have 
 been often assured," says Mr. Pennant, " by 
 intelligent people, of the truth of a fact, that 
 the young of the viper, when terrified, will 
 run down the throat of the parent, and seek 
 shelter in its belly in the same manner as the 
 young of the oppossum retire into the ventral 
 pouch of the old one. From this,'' continues 
 he, ' ; some have imagined that the viper is 
 so unnatural as to devour its own young; but 
 this deserves no credit, as these animals live 
 upon frogs, toads, lizards, and young birds, 
 which they often swallow whole, though the 
 morsel is often three times as thick as their 
 own body." 
 
 The viper is capable of supporting very 
 long abstinence, il, being known that some 
 have been kept in a box six months without 
 food ; yet during the whole time they did not 
 abate of their vivacity. They feed only a 
 small part of the year, but never during their 
 confinement; for if mice, their favourite diet, 
 should at that time be thrown into their box, 
 though they will kill, yet they will never eat 
 them. When at liberty, they remain torpid 
 throughout the winter; yet, when confined, 
 have never been observed to take their an- 
 nual repose. Their poison, however, de- 
 creases in proportion to the length of their 
 confinement; and it is thought that the virtues 
 of the animal's flesh are, by the same restraints, 
 considerably lessened. 
 
 They are usually taken with wooden tongs, 
 by the end of the tail, which may be done 
 without danger; for, while held in that po- 
 sition, they are unable to wind themselves up 
 to hurt their enemy : yet, notwithstanding this 
 
 Krecaution, the viper-catchers are frequently 
 it by them; but, by the application of olive- 
 oil, the bite is effectually cured. 
 
 One William Oliver, a viper-catcher at Bath, 
 was the first who discovered this admirable 
 remedy. On the first of June, 1735, in the 
 presence of a great number of persons, he 
 suffered himself to be bit by an old black 
 viper, (brought by one of the company,) upon 
 the wrist and joint of the thumb of the right 
 hand, so that drops of blood came out of the 
 wound: he immediately felt a violent pain 
 both at the top of his thumb, and up his arm, 
 even before the viper was loosened from his 
 hand ; soon after lie felt a pain, resembling 
 
 that of burning, trickle up his arm; in a few 
 minutes his eyes began to look red and fiery, 
 and to water much; in less than an hour he 
 perceived the venom seize his heart ; with a 
 pricking pain, which was attended with faint- 
 ness, shortness of breath, and cold sweats; 
 in a few minutes after this, his belly began to 
 swell, with great gripings, and pains in his 
 back, which were attended with vomitingsand 
 pui'gings: during the violence of these symp- 
 toms, his sight was gone for several minutes, 
 but he could hear all the while. He said, 
 that in his former experiments he had never 
 deferred making use of his remedy longer 
 than he perceived the effects of the venom 
 reaching his heart ; but this time, being wil- 
 ling to satisfy the company thoroughly, and 
 trusting to the speedy effects of his remedy, 
 which was nothing more than olive-oil, he ab- 
 stained to apply any thing, till he found him- 
 self exceeding ill and quite giddy. About 
 an hour and a quarter after the first of his 
 being bit, a chafing-dish of glowing charcoal 
 was brought in, and his naked arm was held 
 over it, as near as he could bear, while his 
 wife rubbed in the oil with her hand, turning 
 his arm continually round, as if she would 
 have roasted it over the coals : he said the 
 poison goon abated, but the swelling did not 
 diminish much. Most violent purgings and 
 vomitings soon ensued ; and his pulse became 
 so low, and so often interrupted, that it was 
 thought proper to order him a repetition of 
 cordial potions: he said he was not sensible 
 of any great relief from these; but that a 
 glass or two of olive-oil drank down, seemed 
 to give him ease. Continuing in this danger- 
 ous condition, he was put to bed, where his 
 arm was again bathed over a pan of char- 
 coal, and rubbed with olive-oil, heated in a 
 ladle over the charcoal, by Dr. Mortimer's 
 direction, who was the physician that drew 
 up the account. From this last operation he 
 declared that he found immediate ease, as 
 though by some charm : he soon after fell 
 into a profound sleep, and, after about nine 
 hours sound rest, awaked about six the next 
 morning, and found himself very well; but 
 in the afternoon, on drinking some rum and 
 strong beer, so as to be almost intoxicated, 
 the swelling returned, with much pain and 
 cold sweats, which abated soon, on bathing 
 
THE SERPENT KIND. 
 
 737 
 
 the arm, as before, and wrapping it up in 
 brown paper soaked in the oil. 
 
 Such are the effects of the viper's bite ; yet 
 its flesh has long been celebrated as a noble 
 medicine. A broth, made by boiling one vi- 
 per in a quart of water till it conies to a pint, 
 is the usual method in which it is given at 
 present ; and it is said to be a very power- 
 ful restorative in battered constitutions: the 
 salt of vipers is also thought to exceed any 
 other animal salt whatever, in giving vigour 
 to the languid circulation, and prompting to 
 venery. 
 
 The Rattlesnake is bred in America, and 
 in no part of the old world. Some are as 
 thick as a man's leg, and six feet in length ; 
 but the most usual size is from four to live 
 feet long. In most particulars it resembles 
 the viper: like that animal, having a large 
 head and a small neck, being of a dusky co- 
 lour, and furnished with fangs that inflict the 
 most terrible wounds. It differs, however, 
 in having a large scale, which hangs like a 
 penthouse over each eye. The eye also is 
 furnished with a nictitating membrane, that 
 preserves it from dust; and its scales are of 
 a considerable degree of hardness, They 
 are of an orange, tawny, and blackish colour, 
 on the back ; and of an ash-colour on the bel- 
 ly, inclining to lead. The male may be rea- 
 dily distinguished from the female, by a black 
 velvet spot on the head, and by the head being 
 smaller and longer. But that which, besides 
 their superior malignity, distinguishes them 
 from all other animals, is their rattle, an in- 
 btrument lodged in their tail, by which they 
 make such a loud, rattling noise, when they 
 move, that their approach may readily be per- 
 ceived, and the danger avoided. This rat- 
 tle, which is placed in the tail, somewhat re- 
 sembles, when taken out of the body, the curb 
 chain of a bridle: it is composed of several 
 thin, hard, hollow bones, linked to each other, 
 and rattling upon the slightest motion. It is 
 supposed by some, that the snake acquires 
 an additional bone every year; and that, from 
 hence, its age may be precisely known : how- 
 ever this may be, certain it is, that the young 
 snakes, of a year or two old, have no rattles 
 at all : while many old ones have been kill- 
 ed, that had from eleven to thirteen joints 
 each. They shake and make a noise with 
 
 these rattles with prodigious quickness when 
 they are disturbed; however, the peccary and 
 the vulture are no way terrified at the sound, 
 but hasten, at the signal, to seize the snake, 
 as their most favourite prey. 
 
 It is very different with almost every other 
 animal. The certain death which ensues 
 from this terrible creature's bite, makes a so- 
 litude wherever it is heard. It moves alon^r 
 with the most maje&tic rapidity; neither seek- 
 ing to offend the larger animals, nor fearing 
 their insults. If unprovoked, it never meddles 
 with any thing but its natural prey ; but when 
 accidentally trod upon, or pursued to be de- 
 stroyed, it then maltes a dreadful and des- 
 perate defence. It ercols itself upon its tail, 
 throws back the head, and inilicts its wound 
 in a moment ; then parts, and inilicts a second 
 wound : after which, we are told, by some, 
 that it remains torpid and inactiv.e, without 
 even attempting to escape. 
 
 The very instant (lie wound is inflicted, 
 though small in itself, it appears more pain- 
 ful than the sting of a bee. This pain, which 
 is so suddenly felt, far from abating, grows 
 every moment more excruciating and danger- 
 ous : the limb swells; the venom reaches the 
 head, which is soon of a monstrous size; the 
 eyes are red and fiery; the heart beats quick, 
 with frequent interruptions; the pain becomes 
 insupportable, and some expire under it in 
 five or six hours; but others, who are of 
 stronger constitutions, survive the agony for 
 a few hours longer, only to sink under a ge- 
 neral mortification, which ensues, and cor- 
 rupts the -whole body. 
 
 As a gentleman in Virginia was walking 
 iii the fields for his amusement, he acciden- 
 tally trod upon a rattlesnake, that had been 
 lurking in a stony place; which, enraged by 
 the pressure, reared up, bit his hand, and 
 shook his rattles. The gentleman readily 
 perceived that he was in the most dreadful 
 danger; but unwilling to die unrevenged, he 
 killed the snake, and carrying it home in his 
 hand, threw it on the ground before his fa- 
 mily, crying out, " I am killed, and there is 
 my murderer!" In such an extremity, the spee- 
 diest remedies were the best. His arm, which 
 was beginning to swell, was tied up near the 
 shoulder, the wound wag anointed with oil, 
 arid every precaution taken to stop the infeo 
 
/38 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 tion. by tne help 01 a very strong constitu- 
 tion he recovered ; but not without feeling 
 the most various and dreadful symptoms for 
 several weeks together. His arm, below the 
 ligature, appeared of several colours, with a 
 writhing among the muscles, that, to his ter- 
 rified imagination, appeared like the motions 
 of the animal that had wounded him. A fe- 
 ver ensued ; the loss of his hair, giddiness, 
 drought, weakness, and nervous faintings: till, 
 by slow degrees, a very strong habit over- 
 powered the latent malignity of the poison. 
 
 Several remedies have been tried to alle- 
 viate this calamity. A decoction of the Vir- 
 ginian snake-root is considered as the most 
 effectual ; and at the same time the head of 
 the animal bruised and laid upon the part af- 
 fected, is thought to assist the cure. In ge- 
 neral, however, it is found to be fatal ; and 
 the Indians, sensible of this, take care to dip 
 their arrows in the poison under the rattle- 
 snake's fangs, when they desire to take a sig- 
 nal revenge of their enemies. 
 
 Thus much concerning this animal is agreed 
 upon by every naturalist: there are other 
 circumstances in its history, which are not 
 so well ascertained. And first, its motion, 
 which some describe as the swiftest imagin- 
 able; asserting, that its Indian name of Eca- 
 coalt, which signifies the windserpent, implies 
 its agility: others, on the contrary, assert 
 that it is the slowest and the most sluggish of 
 all serpents ; and that it seldom moves from 
 one place. In this opposition of opinions, 
 there are others, who assert, that on even 
 ground it moves but slowly ; but then, among 
 rocks, that it goes at a great rate. If we may 
 argue from analogy, the opinion of those 
 who contend for its slow motion, seems the 
 most probable ; as the viper, which it so very 
 much resembles, is remarkable among ser- 
 pents for its inactivity. 
 
 It is said also by some, that the rattlesnake lias 
 a power of charming its prey into its mouth; 
 and this is as strongly contradicted by others. 
 The inhabitants of Pennsylvania are said to 
 have opportunities of observing this strange 
 fascination every day. The snake is often 
 seen basking at the foot of a tree, where birds 
 and squirrels make their residence. There, 
 coiled upon its tail, its jaws extended, and 
 its eyes shining like fire, the rattlesnake le- 
 
 vels its dreadful glare upon one of the little 
 animals above. The bird, or the squirrel, 
 which ever it may be, too plainly perceives 
 the mischief meditating against it, and hops 
 from branch to branch, with a timorous, plain- 
 tive sound, wishing to avoid, yet incapable 
 of breaking through the fascination : thus it 
 continues for some time its feeble efforts and 
 complaints, but is still seen approaching lower 
 and lower towards the bottom branches of the 
 tree, until, at last, as if overcome by the po- 
 tency of its fears, it jumps down from the tree 
 directly into the throat of its frightful de- 
 stroyer. 
 
 In order to ascertain the truth of this story, 
 a mouse was put into a large iron cage, where 
 a rattlesnake was kept, and the effect care- 
 fully observed. The mouse remained motion- 
 less at one end of the cage; while the snake, 
 at the other, continued fixed, with its eyes 
 glaring full on the little animal, and its jaws 
 opened to their w idest extent : the mouse for 
 some time seemed eager to escape; but every 
 effort only served to increase its terrors, and 
 to draw it still nearer the enemy; till, after 
 several ineffectual attempts to break the fas- 
 cination, it was seen to run into the jaws of 
 the rattlesnake, where it was instantly kill- 
 ed. 
 
 To these accounts the incredulous oppose 
 the improbability of the fact : they assert, 
 that such a power ascribed to serpents, is 
 only the remnant of a vulgar error, by which 
 it was supposed that serpents could be charm- 
 ed, and had also a pow er of charming. They 
 aver, that animals are so far from running 
 down the throat of a rattlesnake in captivity, 
 that the snake will eat nothing in that state, 
 but actually dies for want of subsistence. 
 
 A serpent, called the Whipsnake, is still 
 more venomous than the former. This ani- 
 tnal, which is a native of the east, is about 
 five feet long, yet not much thicker than the 
 thong of a coachman's whip. It is exceed- 
 ingly venomous; and its bite is said to kill in 
 about six hours. One of the Jesuit missiona- 
 ries, happening to enter into an Indian pa- 
 goda, saw what he took to be a whipcord ly- 
 ing on the floor, and stooped to take it up; 
 but, upon handling it, what was his surprise 
 to find that it was animated, and no other 
 than the whipsnake, of which he had heard 
 
THE SERPENT KIND. 
 
 739 
 
 such formidable accounts : fortune, however, 
 seemed favourable to him, for he grasped it 
 by the head, so that it had no power to bite 
 him, and only twisted its folds up his arm. 
 In this manner he held it, till it was killed by 
 those who came to his assistance. 
 
 To this formidable class might be added the 
 Asp, whose bite however is not attended with 
 those drowsy symptoms which the ancients 
 ascribed to it. The Jaculus of Jamaica also, 
 is one of the swiftest of the serpent kind. 
 The Haemorrhois, so called from the haemorr- 
 hages which its bite is said to produce ; the 
 Seps, whose wound is very venomous, and 
 causes the part affected to corrupt in a very 
 short time ; the Coral Serpent, which is red, 
 and whose bite is said to be fatal. But of all 
 others, the Cobra di Capello, or Hooded Ser- 
 pent, inflicts the most deadly and incurable 
 wounds. Of this formidable creature there 
 are five or six different kinds ; but they are all 
 equally dangerous, and their bite followed by 
 spee'ly and certain death. It is from three to 
 eight feet long, with two large fangs hanging 
 out of the upper jaw. It has a broad neck, 
 and a mark of dark brown on the forehead ; 
 which, when viewed frontwise, looks like a 
 pair of spectacles ; but behind like the head of 
 a cat. The eyes are fierce and full of fire ; 
 the head is small, and the nose flat, though 
 
 covered with very large scales, of a yellowish 
 ash-colour ; the skin is white, and the large 
 tumour on the neck is flat, and covered with 
 oblong, smooth scales. The bite of this ani- 
 mal is said to be incurable, the patient dying 
 in about an hour after the wound ; the whole 
 frame being dissolved into one putrid mass of 
 corruption. 
 
 To remedy the bite of all these animals, 
 perhaps salad-oil would be very efficacious: 
 however, the Indians make use of a composi- 
 tion, which is called, in Europe, Petro de Co- 
 bra, or the Serpent-stone ; and which applied 
 to the wound, is said to draw out the venom. 
 The composition of this stone, for it is an ar- 
 tificial substance, is kept a secret ; and per- 
 haps its effects in extracting the venom may 
 be imaginary : nevertheless, it is certain that 
 it has a power of sticking to the skin, and 
 sucking a part of the blood from the wound. 
 This it may do somewhat in the same manner 
 as we see a tobacco-pipe stick to the lips of a 
 man who is smoking : yet still we are igno- 
 rant of the manner ; and the secret might 
 probably be of some use in medicine. It were 
 to be wished, therefore, that those who go into 
 India would examine into this composition, 
 and give us the result of their in.quiries : but I 
 fear that it is not to benefit mankind, that our 
 travellers now go to India. 
 
 CHAPTER CLXVI. 
 
 OF SERPENTS WITHOUT VENOM. 
 
 THE class of serpents without poison, may 
 be distinguished from those that are venom- 
 ous, by their wanting the fang-teeth : their 
 heads, also, are not so thick in proportion to 
 their bodies ; and, in general, they taper off 
 to the tail more gradually in a point. But 
 notwithstanding their being destitute of venom, 
 they do not cease to be formidable : some 
 grow to a size by which they become the 
 most powerful animals of the forest ; and 
 even the smallest and most harmless of this 
 slender tribe, find protection from the simili- 
 tude of their form. 
 
 The fangs make the great distinction among 
 
 NO. 63 & 64. 
 
 serpents ; and all this tribe are without them. 
 Their teeth are short, numerous, and, in the 
 smaller kinds, perfectly inoffensive : they lie 
 in either jaw, as in frogs and fishes, their points 
 bending backwards, the better to secure their 
 prey. They want that artificial mechanism 
 by which the poisonous tribe inflict such dead- 
 ly wounds : they have no gland in the head 
 for preparing venom ; no conduits for convey- 
 ing it to the teeth ; no receptacles there ; no 
 hollow in the instrument that inflicts the 
 wound. Their bite, when the teeth happen 
 to be large enough to penetrate the skin, (for, 
 in general, they are too small for this purpose,) 
 5L 
 
710 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 is attended \vith no other symptoms than 
 those of an ordinary puncture ; and many of 
 this tribe, as if sensible of their own impotence, 
 cannot be provoked to bite, though never so 
 rudely assaulted. They hiss, dart out their 
 forky tongues, erect themselves on the tail, 
 and call up all their terrors to intimidate their 
 aggressors ; but seem to consider their teeth 
 as unnecessary instruments of defence, and 
 never attempt to use them. Even amongst 
 ihe largest of this kind, the teeth are never 
 employed, in the most desperate engagements. 
 Vv'hen a hare or a bird is caught, the teeth 
 may serve to prevent such small game from 
 escaping ; but when a buffalo or a tiger is to 
 be encountered, it is by the strong folds of the 
 body, by the fierce verberations of the tail, 
 that the enemy is destroyed : by this twining 
 round, and drawing the knot with convulsive 
 energy, this enormous reptile breaks every 
 bone in the quadruped's body, and then, at 
 one morsel, devours its prey. 
 
 From hence we may distinguish the un- 
 venomous tribe into two kinds : first, into 
 tiose which are seldom found of any consi- 
 derable magnitude, and that never offend ani- 
 mals larger or more powerful than themselves, 
 but which find their chief protection in flight, 
 or in the doubtfulness of their form ; secondly, 
 into such as grow to an enormous size, fear 
 no enemy, but indiscriminately attack all 
 other animals and devour them. Of the first 
 kind is the Common Black Snake, the Blind 
 Worm, the Esculapian Serpent, the Arnphis- 
 baena, and several others. Of the second, the 
 Liboya, the Boiguacu, the Depona, and the 
 Boiquatrara. 
 
 The Black Snake is the largest of English 
 serpents, sometimes exceeding four feet in 
 length. The neck is slender ; the middle of 
 the body thick ; the back and sides covered 
 with small scales ; the belly with oblong, nar- 
 row, transverse plaits : the colour of the back 
 and sides are of a dusky brown ; the middle of 
 the back marked with two rows of small black 
 spots, running from the head to the tail ; the plaits 
 on the bdly are dusky ; the scales on the sides 
 are of a bluish white ; the teeth are small and 
 serrated, lying on each side of the jaw in two 
 rows. The whole species is perfectly inoffen- 
 sive ; taking shelter in dunghills, and among 
 bushes in moist places ; from whence they 
 Seldom remove, unless in the midst of the day, 
 
 in summer, when they are called out by the 
 heat to bask themselves in the sun. If disturb- 
 ed or attacked, they move away among the 
 brambles with great swiftness; but if too 
 closely pursued, they hiss and threaten, and 
 thus render themselves formidable, though in- 
 capable of offending. 
 
 The black snake preys upon frogs, insects, 
 worms, mice, and young birds : and, consider- 
 ing the snirtllness of the neck, it is amazing 
 how large an animal it will swallow. The 
 black snake of Virginia, which is larger than 
 ours, and generally grows to six feet long, 
 takes a prey proportionable to its size ; par- 
 tridges, chickens, and young ducks. It is 
 generally found in the neighbourhood of the 
 hen-roost, and will devour the eggs even 
 while the hen is sitting upon them : these it 
 swallows whole, and often after it has done 
 the mischief will coil itself round in the nest. 
 
 The whole of this tribe are oviparous, ex- 
 cluding eighty or a hundred eggs at a time, 
 which are laid in dunghills or hotbeds ; the 
 heat of which, aided by that of the sun, brings 
 them to maturity. During winter they lie 
 torpid, in banks of edges, and under old 
 trees. 
 
 The Blind Worm is another harmless rep- 
 tile, with a formidable appearance. The 
 usual length of this species is eleven inches. 
 The eyes are red ; the head small ; the neck 
 still more slender ; from that part the body 
 grows suddenly, and continues of an equal 
 bulk to the tail, which ends quite blunt : the 
 colour of the back is cinereous, marked with 
 very small lines, composed of minute black 
 specks ; the sides are of a reddish cast ; the 
 belly dusky, and marked like the back. The 
 motion of this serpent is slow ; from which, 
 and from the smallness of the eyes, are derived 
 its names ; some calling it the slow and some 
 the blind worm. Like all the rest of the kind 
 in our climates, they lie torpid during winter; 
 and are sometimes found in vast numbers, 
 twisted n< Aether. This animal, like the for- 
 mer, is perfectly innocent; however, like the 
 viper it brings forth its young alive. Gesner 
 tells us, that one of these being si ruck on the 
 head when it was pregnant, it immediately 
 cast forth its young. 
 
 The Arnphisbaena, or the Double Headed 
 Serpent, is remarkable for moving along with 
 either the head or the tail foremost ; and from 
 
THE SERPENT KLND. 
 
 711 
 
 thence it has been thought to have two heads. 
 This error took its rise from the thickness of 
 the tail, which, at a distance, may be mistaken 
 for another head. Upon a nearer view, how- 
 ever, the error is easily discovered, and the 
 animal will be found formed according to the 
 usual course of nature. It is as thick at one 
 end as at the other; and the colour of the 
 skin is like that of the earth, being rough, 
 hard, and variously spotted. Some have af- 
 tirmed that its bite is dangerous; but this 
 must be a mistake, as it wants the fangs, and, '' 
 consequently, the elaboratory that prepares 
 the poison. 
 
 These animals are only formidable from 
 their similitude to the viper tribe; and, in 
 some countries, where such reptiles are com- 
 mon, they make the distinction so exactly, 
 that while they destroy serpents of one kind 
 with great animosity, they take others into 
 their houses, and even into their bosoms, with 
 a kind of unaccountable affection. The Es- 
 Cttlaptan Serpent of Italy is among this num- 
 ber. It is there suffered to crawl about the 
 chambers; and often gets into the beds where 
 people lie. It is a yellow serpent, of about 
 an ell long; and, though innocent, yet will 
 bite when exasperated. They are said to 
 be great destroyers of mice ; and this may be 
 the reason why they are taken under human 
 protection. The Boyuna of Ceylon is equal- 
 ly a favourite among tho natives; and they 
 consider the meeting it as a sign of good luck. 
 The Surinam Serpent, which some improper- 
 ly call the Ammodytes, is equally harmless 
 and desirable among the savages of that part 
 of the world. They consider themselves as 
 extremely happy if this animal comes into 
 their huts. The colours of this serpent are 
 so many and beautiful, that they surpass all 
 description ; and these, perhaps, are the chief 
 inducements to the savages to consider its 
 visits as so very fortunate. A still greater 
 favourite is the Prince of Serpents, a native 
 of Japan, that has not its equal for beauty. 
 The scales which cover the back are reddish, 
 finely shaded, and marbled with large spots 
 of irregular figures mixed with black. The 
 fore part of the head is covered with large 
 beautiful scales, the jaws bordered with yel- 
 low, the forehead marked with a black mar- 
 bled streak, and the eyes handsome and live- 
 
 ly. But of all others, the Geremla of the 
 East Indies is the most honoured and esteem- 
 ed. To this animal, which is finely spotted 
 with various colours, the natives of Calicut 
 pay divine honours; and while their deity 
 lies coiled up, which is its usual posture, the 
 people fall upon their faces before it with 
 stupid adoration. The African Gerenda \ 
 larger, and worshipped in the same manner 
 by the inhabitants of the coast of Mosambique. 
 The skin is not so finely spotted as the for- 
 mer; but it is variegated all over the body 
 with very fine, white, ash-coloured, and black 
 spots. The brilliancy of colouring in these 
 reptiles would only serve with us to increase 
 our disgust; but in those countries where 
 the.y are, common distinctions are made ; and 
 even in this horrid class, there are some eyes 
 that can discover beauty. 
 
 But in the larger tribe of serpents, there 
 is nothing but danger to be apprehended* 
 This formidable class, though without venom, 
 have something frightful in their colour, aa 
 well as their size and form. They want that 
 vivid hue with which the savages are so much 
 pleased in the lesser kinds ; they are all found 
 of a dusky colour, with large teeth, which 
 are more formidable than dangerous. 
 
 The first of this claps is the Great Liboya 
 of Java and Brasi), which Legaut affirms, he 
 has seen fifty feet long. Nor is he singular 
 in this report, as many of the missionaries 
 affirm the same; and we have the concurrent 
 testimony of historians as a further proof. 
 The largest animal of this kind which has 
 been brought into Europe, is but thirty-six 
 feet long; and it is probable, that much great- 
 er have been seen and destroyed, before they 
 were thought worth sending so far to satisfy 
 European curiosity. The most usual length, 
 however, of the liboya, is about twenty feet, 
 and the thickness in proportion. The teeth 
 are small in proportion to (lie body; nor are 
 thr-y used, but when it seizes (he smallest prey. 
 It lies in wait for wild animals near the paths, 
 and when it throws itself upon them, it wraps 
 them round so closely as to break all the 
 bones; then moistening the whole body over 
 with its slaver, it makes it fit for deglutition, 
 and swallows it whole. 
 
 The Boiguacu is supposed to be the next 
 in magnitude, and has often been seen to swal- 
 5L 
 
742 
 
 A HISTORY OF THE SERPENT KIND. 
 
 low a goat whole. It is thickest in the mid- 
 dle of the body, and grows shorter and small- 
 er towards the head and the tail : on the mid- 
 dle of the back, there is a chain of small black 
 .spots running along the length of it; and on 
 each side, there are large, round, black spots, 
 at some distance from each other, which are 
 white in the centre : between these, near the 
 belly, there are two rows of lesser black spots, 
 M'hich run parallel to the back. It has a 
 double row of sharp teelh in each jaw, of a 
 white colour, and shining like mother-of-pearl. 
 The head is broad ; and over the eyes it is 
 raised into two prominences : near the ex- 
 tremity of the tail there are two claws, re- 
 sembling those of birds. 
 
 These serpents lie hid in thickets, from 
 whence they sally out unawares, and raising 
 themselves upright on their tails, will attack 
 both men and beasts. They make a loud, 
 hissing noise when exasperated; and some- 
 times winding up trees, will dart down upon 
 travellers, and twist themselves so closely 
 round their bodies, as to despatch them in a 
 very few minutes. Condamine, however, af- 
 firms, that their bite is not dangerous; for 
 though the teeth are so large as to inspire 
 the beholder with terror, yet the wound they 
 make is attended with no dangerous conse- 
 quences whatever. Dellon affirms, that they 
 generally haunt desert places; and though 
 they are sometimes seen near great towns, or 
 on the banks of rivers, yet it is generally after 
 some great inundation: he never saw any but 
 what were dead; and they appeared to him like 
 the trunk of a great tree lying on the ground. 
 
 To this class of large serpents, we may re- 
 fer the Depona, a native of Mexico, with a 
 very large head and great jaws. The mouth 
 is armed with cutting, crooked teeth, among 
 
 which there are two longer than the rest, pla- 
 ced in the fore part of the upper jaw, but very 
 different from the fangs of the viper. All 
 round the mouth there is a broad scaly bor- 
 der; and the eyes are so large, that they give 
 it a very terrible aspect. The forehead is 
 covered with very large scales; on which are 
 placed others, that are smaller, curiously ran- 
 ged : those on the back are grayish, and along 
 it runs a double chain, whose ends are join- 
 ed in the manner of a buckler. Each side of 
 the belly is marbled with large square spots, 
 of a chesnut colour, in the middle of which 
 is a spot, which is round and yellow. They 
 avoid the sight of man; and, consequently, 
 never do much harm. 
 
 Such are the most noted animals of the 
 serpent tribe; but to recount all, would be a 
 vain, as well as a useless endeavour. In those 
 countries where they abound, their discrimi- 
 nations are so numerous, and their colours so 
 various, that every thicket seems to produce 
 a new animal. The same serpent is often 
 found to bring forth animals of eight or ten 
 different colours: and the naturalist who at- 
 tempts to arrange them by that mark, will 
 find that he has made distinctions which are 
 entirely disowned by nature : however, a very 
 considerable number might be added to en- 
 large the catalogue; but having supplied a 
 general history, the mind turns away from a 
 subject where every object presents some- 
 thing formidable or loathsome to the imagi- 
 nation. Indeed, the whole tribe resemble 
 each other so nearly, that the history of one 
 may almost serve for every other. They are 
 all terrible to the imagination, all frightful to 
 behold in their fury, and have long been con- 
 sidered as a race of animals between whom 
 and man there is a natural antipathy. 
 
A HISTORY OF INSECTS IN GENERAL. 
 
 743 
 
 or INSECTS or THE FIRST ORDER. 
 
 CHAPTER CLXVII. 
 
 OF INSECTS IN GENERAL. 
 
 HAVING gone through the upper ranks of 
 nature, we descend to that of insects, a sub- 
 ject almost inexhaustible from the number of 
 its tribes and the variety of their appearance. 
 Those who have professedly written on this 
 subject seem to consider it as one of the 
 greatest that can occupy the human mind, as 
 the most pleasing in Animated Nature. "After 
 an attentive examination," says Svvammer- 
 dam, " of the nature and anatomy of the 
 smallest as well as the largest animals, I can- 
 not help allowing the least an equal, or per- 
 haps a superior, degree of dignity. If, while 
 we dissect with care the larger animals, we 
 are filled with wonder at the elegant disposi- 
 tion of their parts, to what a height is our 
 astonishment raised, when we discover all 
 these parts arranged in the least in the same 
 regular manner ! Notwithstanding the small- 
 ness of ants, nothing hinders our preferring 
 them to the largest animals. If we consider 
 either their unwearied diligence, their won- 
 derful strength, or their inimitable propensity 
 to labour. Their amazing love to their young 
 is still more unparalleled among the larger 
 classes. They not only daily carry them to 
 such places as may afford them food ; but if, 
 by accident, they are killed, and even cut 
 into pieces, they, with the utmost tenderness, 
 
 will carry them away piecemeal in their arms. 
 Who can show such an example among the 
 larger animals which are dignified with the 
 title of perfect ? Who can find an instance 
 in any other creature that can come in com- 
 petition with this ?" 
 
 Such is the language of a man, who, by 
 long study, became enamoured of his subject; 
 but to those who judge less partially, it will 
 be found that the insect tribe, for every rea- 
 son, deserve but the last and lowest rank in 
 Animated Nature. As in mechanics the most 
 complicated machines are required to per- 
 form the nicest operations, so in anatomy the 
 noblest animals are most variously and won- 
 derfully made. Of all living beings, man 
 offers the most wonderful variety in his inter- 
 nal conformation ; quadrupeds come next, 
 and other animals follow in proportion to their 
 powers or their excellencies. Insects seem 
 of all others the most imperfectly formed : 
 from their minuteness, the dissecting knife 
 can go but a short way in the investigation ; 
 but one thing argues an evident imperfection, 
 which is, that many of them can live a long 
 time, though deprived of those organs which 
 are necessary to life, in the higher ranks of 
 nature. Many of them are furnished with 
 lungs and a heart, like nobler animals ; yet 
 
744 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 the caterpillar continues to live, though its 
 heart and lungs, which is often the case, are 
 entirely eaten away. 
 
 But it is not from their conformation alone 
 that insects are interior to other animals, but 
 from their instincts also. It is true that the 
 ant and the bee present us with very striking 
 instances of assiduity; but how far are theirs 
 beneath the marks of sagacity exhibited in 
 the hound or the stag ! a bee, taken from the 
 swarm, is totally helpless and inactive, inca- 
 pable of giving the smallest variation to its in- 
 stincts: it has but one single method of 
 operating, and, if put from that, it can turn to 
 no other. In the pursuits of the hound, there 
 is something like a choice; in the labours of 
 the bee, the whole appears like necessity or 
 compulsion. 
 
 If insects be considered as bearing a rela- 
 tion to man, and as assisting him in the plea- 
 sures or necessities of life, they will, even in 
 this respect, sink in the comparison with the 
 larger tribes of nature. It is true that the bee, 
 the silk-worm, the cochineal fly, and the can- 
 tharides, render him signal services ; but how 
 many others of this class, are either noxious 
 or totally unserviceable to him. Even in a 
 country like ours, where all the noxious ani- 
 mals have been reduced by repeated as- 
 siduity, the insect tribes still maintain their 
 ground, and are buttoo often unwelcome intru- 
 ders upon the fruits of human industry. But 
 in more uncultivated regions, their annoyance 
 and devastations are terrible. What an un- 
 comfortable life must the natives lead in Lap- 
 land, and some parts of America, where if a 
 candle be lighted, the insects swarm in such 
 abundance, as instantly to extinguish it with 
 their numbers; where the inhabitants are 
 obliged to smear their bodies and faces with 
 tar, or some other composition, to protect 
 them from the puncture of their minute ene- 
 mies; where, though millions are destroyed, 
 famished millions are still seen to succeed, 
 and to make the torture endless! 
 
 Their amazing number is also an argument 
 of their imperfection. It is a rule that ob- 
 tains through all nature, that the nobler ani- 
 mals are slowly produced, and that nature 
 acts with a kind of dignified economy; but 
 the meaner births are lavished in profusion, 
 and thousands are brought forth merely to 
 
 supply the necessities of the more favourite 
 objects of Creation. Of all other productions 
 in nature, insects are the most numerous. 
 Vegetables that cover the surface of the earth 
 bear no proportion to their multitudes; and 
 though, at first sight, herbs of the field seem 
 to be the parts of organized nature produced 
 in the greatest abundance, yet upon minuter 
 inspection, we shall find every plant support- 
 ing a number of scarce perceptible creatures, 
 that fill up the various stages of youth, vigour, 
 and age, in the compass of a few days exist- 
 ence. 
 
 All otlior animals are capable of some de- 
 gree of education ; their instincts may be sup- 
 pressed or altered ; the dog may be taught 
 to fetch and carry ; the bird to whistle a tune ; 
 and the serpent to dance ; but the insect has 
 but one invariable method of operating; no 
 arts can turn it from its instincts; and, in- 
 deed, its life is too short for instruction, as a 
 single season often terminates its existence. 
 
 For these reasons, the insect tribe are de- 
 servedly placed in the lowest rank of Ani- 
 mated Nature; and, in general, they soem 
 more allied to the vegetables on which they 
 feed, than to the noble classes above them. 
 Many of them are attached to one vegetable, 
 often to a single leaf: there they increase; 
 with the flourishing plant, and die as it de- 
 cays; a few dnys fill up the measure of their 
 contemptible lives ; while the ends for which 
 they were produced, or the pictures they 
 enjoyed, to us, at least, are utterly unknown. 
 
 Yet while I am thus fixing the rank of a cer- 
 tain class of animals, it seems necessary to 
 define the nature of those animals which arc 
 thus degraded. Definitions in general pro- 
 duce little knowledge ; but here, where the 
 shades of nature are so intimately blended, 
 some discrimination is necessary to prevent 
 confusion. The smallness of the animal, for 
 instance, does not constitute an insect; for 
 then, many of the lizard kind, which are not 
 above two inches long, would come under this 
 denomination, and if the smaller lizards, why 
 not the crocodile? which would be a terrible 
 insect indeed ! In the same manner, smallness, 
 with a slow creeping motion, does not con- 
 stitute an insect; for, though snails might be 
 called insects, with the same propriety the 
 whole tribe of sea shell- fish would then have 
 
INSECTS IN GENERAL. 
 
 745 
 
 equal pretensions; and a very troublesome 
 innovation would be brought into our lan- 
 guage, which is already formed. Excluding 
 such animals, therefore, from the insect tribe, 
 we may define insects to be little animals with- 
 out red blood, bones, or cartilages, furnished with 
 a trunk, or else a mouth, opening lengthwise, with 
 eyes which they are incapable of covering, and 
 with lungs which have their openings on the sides. 
 This definition comprehends the whole class 
 of insects, whether with or without wings; 
 whether in their caterpillar or butterfly state; 
 whether produced in the ordinary method of 
 generation between male and female, or from 
 an animal that is itself both male and female, 
 or from the same animal cut into several parts, 
 and each part producing a perfect ani- 
 mal. 
 
 From hence it appears, that in this class of 
 animals there are numerous distinctions, and 
 that a general description will by no means 
 serve for all. Almost every species has its 
 own distinct history ; and exhibits manners, 
 appetites, and modes of propagation, pecu- 
 liarly its own. In the larger ranks of exist- 
 ence, two animals that nearly resemble each 
 other in form will be found to have a similar 
 history ; but here insects almost entirely alike 
 will be often found perfectly dissimilar, as 
 well in their manner of bringing forth and sub- 
 sisting, as in the changes which they undergo 
 during their short lives. Thus as this class 
 is prolific beyond computation, so are its va- 
 rieties multiplied beyond the power of de- 
 scription. The attempt to enumerate all the 
 species of a fly or a moth would be very fruit- 
 less; but to give a history of all would be ut- 
 terly impracticable; so various are the ap- 
 petites, the manners, and the lives of this hum- 
 ble class of beings, that every species requires 
 its distinct history. An exact plan, therefore, 
 of nature's operations in this minute set of 
 creatures is not to be expected ; and yet such 
 a general picture may be given, as is suffi- 
 cient to show the protection which Provi- 
 dence affords its smallest as well as its largest 
 productions, and to display that admirable 
 circulation in nature by which one set of 
 living beings find subsistence from the de- 
 struction of another; and by which life is 
 continued without a pause in every part of 
 the Creation. 
 
 Upon casting a slight view over the whole 
 insect tribe just when they are supposed to 
 rouse from their state of annual torpidity, 
 when they begin to feel the genial influence 
 of spring, and again exhibit new life in every 
 part of nature, their numbers and their varie- 
 ties seem to exceed all powers of calculation, 
 and they are indeed too great for description. 
 When we look closer, however, we shall find 
 some striking similitudes, either in their pro- 
 pagation, their manners, or their form, that 
 give us a hint for grouping several of them 
 into one description, and thus enabling us to 
 shorten the labour of a separate history for 
 every species. Swammerdam, Reaumur, and 
 Linnajus, have each attempted to abridge the 
 task of description, by throning a number of 
 similar animals into distinct classes, arid thus 
 making one general history stand for all. I 
 will avail myself of their labours; and uniting 
 their general distinctions, throw the whole 
 class of insects into fourseparatedistributions. 
 giving under each the history of every species 
 that seems to me considerable enough to de- 
 serve our notice. Thus our labour will be 
 shortened ; and the very rank in which an 
 insect is placed, will, in some measure, ex- 
 hibit a considerable part of its history. 
 
 In our cursory inspection of the insect tribe, 
 the first animals that offer themselves are 
 those which want wings, that appear crawl- 
 ing about on every plant, and on every spot 
 of earth we regard with any degree of atten- 
 tion. Of these, some never obtain wings at 
 any period of their existence, but are destined 
 to creep on the vegetable, or the spot of earth 
 where they are stationed for tLeir whole lives. 
 On the contrary, others are only candidates 
 fora more happy situation; and only wait 
 their growing wings, when they may be said 
 to arrive at their state of full perfection. 
 
 Those that never have wings, but creep 
 about till they die, may be considered as con- 
 stituting the FIRST CLASS of insects. All these, 
 the flea and the wood-louse only excepted, 
 are produced from an egg; and when once 
 they break the shell, they never suffer any 
 further change of form, but continue to grow, 
 larger till they die. Thus the louse or the 
 spider are produced from an egg, never suf- 
 fering any alteration when once they are ex- 
 cluded ; but, like the chicken or the duck> 
 
746 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 remaining invariably the same, from their 
 birth to their dissolution. 
 
 The SECOND ORDER of insects consists of 
 such as have wings ; but which, when pro- 
 duced from the egg, have those wings cased 
 up in such a manner as not to appear. This 
 casing up of the wing, however, does not pre- 
 vent the animal's runriing,leaping,and moving 
 with its natural celerity ; but when the case 
 bursts, and the wings have a power of ex- 
 panding, all the animal's motions become 
 more extensive, and the animal arrives at full 
 perfection. Thus the grasshopper, the dragon- 
 fly, and the ear-wig, have their wings at first 
 bound down; but when the skin that, like a 
 pair of stays, kept them confined, bursts, 
 they are then expanded, and the animal pur- 
 sues the purposes for which it was produced. 
 
 The THIRD ORDER of insects is of the moth 
 and butterfly kind. These all have four 
 wings, each covered with a mealy substance 
 of various colours, which when handled comes 
 off upon the fingers; and, if examined by the 
 microscope, will appear like scales, with 
 which the wing is nicely embroidered all 
 over. These insects also are produced in a 
 manner peculiar to themselves. They are 
 first hatched from an egg, from whence pro- 
 ceeds a caterpillar that eats, and often casts 
 its skin ; the caterpillar having divested itself 
 for the last time, assumes a new covering, 
 which is called a chrysalis, or the cone in the 
 silk-worm, in which it continues hidden till 
 it comes forth a perfect moth, or butterfly. 
 
 The FOURTH ORDER is of those "winged in- 
 sects which come from a wor-m instead of a 
 caterpillar,and yet go through changes similar 
 
 to those which moths and butterflies are seen 
 to undergo. They are first excluded from 
 the egg as a worm, and then become a chry- 
 salis ; in some, their wings and legs are seen; 
 in others, the animal is quite detached from 
 the cone in which it is concealed ; but all at 
 length break their prison, and come out per- 
 fect winged animals; some furnished with 
 two wings and some with four. The wings 
 of all these differ from those of the butterfly 
 and moth kind, by not having the mealy 
 scales which are ever found on the wings of 
 the former. In this class we may place the 
 numerous tribes of gnats, beetles, bees, and 
 flies. 
 
 To these I will add, as a FIFTH ORDER, a 
 numerous tribe lately discovered, to which 
 naturalists have given the name of Zoophytes. 
 These do not go through the ordinary forms 
 of generation, but may be propagated by dis- 
 section. Some of these, though cut into a 
 hundred parts, still retain life in each, and 
 are endued with such a vivacious principle, 
 that every part will in a short time become a 
 perfect animal. They seem a set of creatures 
 placed between animals and vegetables, and 
 make the shade that connects Animated and 
 Insensible Nature. To this class belong the 
 polypus, the earth-worm, and all the varieties 
 of the sea-nettle. 
 
 Having thus given a general distribution 
 of insects, I will proceed to describe each 
 class in the order I have mentioned them ; 
 beginning with insects without wings, as they 
 more nearly resemble the higher ranks of 
 nature, as well in their habits as their con- 
 formation. 
 
 CHAPTER CLXVIII. 
 
 OF INSECTS WITHOUT WINGS. 
 
 EVERY moment's observation furnishes us 
 with instances of insects without wings; but 
 the difficulty is to distinguish those which are 
 condemned continually to lead reptile lives, 
 from such as only wait the happy moment of 
 transmutation. For this, nothing but a long 
 
 and intimate acquaintance will suffice ; but, 
 in general, all animals resembling the flea, the 
 louse, the spider, the bug, the wood-louse, 
 the water-louse, and the scorpion, never ac- 
 quire wings, but are produced from the egg in 
 that form which they never change afterwards. 
 
THE SPIDER KIND. 
 
 747 
 
 If we consider this class as distinct from 
 others, we shall find them in general longer 
 lived than the rest, and often continuing their 
 term beyond one season, which is the ordinary 
 period of an insect's existence. They seem 
 also teas subject to the influence of the weather ; 
 and often endure the rigours of winter without 
 being numbed into torpidity. The whole 
 race of moths, butterflies, bi'es, and flies, are 
 rendered lifeless, by the return of cold wea- 
 ther ; but we need not be told, that the louse, 
 th H;M, and many of these wingless creatures 
 that seem formed to teaze mankind, continue 
 their painful depredations the whole year round. 
 
 They come to perfection in the egg, as was 
 said before; and it sometimes happens, that 
 when the animal is interrupted in performing 
 the offices of exclusion, the young ones burst 
 the shell within the parent's body, and are 
 thus brought forth alive. This not unfrequent- 
 ly happens with the wood-louse, and others of 
 the kind, which are sometimes seen producing 
 eggs, and so uetimes young ones perfectly 
 formed. 
 
 Though these creatures are perfect from the 
 
 beginning, yet they are often, during their ex- 
 istence, seen to change their skin : this is a 
 faculty which they possess in common with 
 many of the higher ranks of animal.*, and 
 which answers the same purposes. However 
 tender their skins may seem to our feel, yet, if 
 compared to the animal's strength and size, 
 they will be found to resemble a coat of mail, 
 or, to talk more closely, the shell of a lobster. 
 By this skin these animals are defended from 
 accidental injuries, and particularly from the 
 attacks of each other. Within this they 
 continue to grow, till their bodies become so 
 large as to be imprisoned in their own cover- 
 ing, and then the shell bursts, but is quickly 
 replaced by a new one. 
 
 Lastly, these animals are endued with a de- 
 gree of strength for their size, that at first might 
 exceed credibility. Had a man an equal de- 
 gree of strength, bulk for bulk, nith a louse, 
 or flea, the history of Samson would be no 
 longer miraculous. A flea will draw a chain 
 a hundred times hea\ier than itself; an. to 
 compensate for this force, will eat ten times its 
 own size of provision in a single day. 
 
 9 
 
 CHAPTER CLXIX. 
 
 OF THE SPIDER AND ITS VARIETIES. 
 
 THE animal that deserves our first notice 
 in tliis principal order of insects is the spider, 
 whose manners are, of all others, the most 
 subtle, and whose instincts are most various. 
 Formed for a life of rapacity, and incapable 
 of living upon any other than insect food, all 
 its habits are calculated to deceive and siir- 
 prisp ; it spreads toils to entangle its prey ; it 
 is endued with patience to expect its coming ; 
 and is possessed of arms and strength to de- 
 stroy it when fallen into the snare. 
 
 In this country, where all the insect tribes 
 are kept under by human assiduity, the spiders 
 are but small and harmless. We are acquaint- 
 ed with few, but the house-spider, which 
 weaves its web in neglected rooms ; the gar- 
 den-spider, that spreads its toils from tree to 
 tree, and rests in the centre ; the wandering- 
 spider, that has no abode like the rest ; and 
 
 wo. C3 & 64. 
 
 the field-spider, that is sometimes seen mount- 
 ing, web and all, into the clouds. These are 
 the chief of our native spiders ; which, though 
 reputed venomous, are entirely inoffensive. 
 But they form a much more terrible tribe in 
 Africa and America. In those regions, w ! here 
 all the insect species acquire their greatest 
 growth, where the butterfly is seen to expand 
 a wing as broad as our sparrow, and the ant 
 to build a habitation as tall as a man, it is not 
 to be wondered at that the spiders are seen 
 bearing a proportionable magnitude. In fact, 
 the bottom of the Martinico spider's body is 
 as large as a hen's egg, and covered all over 
 with hair. Its web is strong, and its bite dan- 
 gerous. It is happy for us, however, that we 
 are placed at a distance from these formidable 
 creatures, and that we can examine their his- 
 tory without feeling their resentment. 
 
 5M 
 
748 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 Every spider has two divisions in ils body. 
 The lore part, containing; the head and breast, 
 is separated from the hinder part or belly by 
 a very slender thread, through which, how- 
 ever, there i.s a communication from one part 
 to the other. The fore part is covered with a 
 hard shell, as well as the legs, which adhere 
 to the breast. The hinder part is clothed 
 with a supple skin, beset all over with hair. 
 They have several eyes all round the head, 
 brilliant and acute ; these are sometimes eight 
 i>i number, sometimes but six; two behind, 
 two before, and the rest on each side. Like 
 all other insects, their eyes are immovcable, 
 and they want eye-lids ; but this organ is 
 fortified wit!) a transparent horny substance, 
 which at once secures and assists their vision. 
 As the animal procures its subsistence by the 
 most watchful attention, so large a number of 
 eyes was necessary to give it the earliest infor- 
 mation of the capture of its prey They have 
 two pincers ot: 'he fore part of the head, rough, 
 with strong points, toothed like a saw, and 
 terminating in claws like those of a cat. A 
 little below the point of the claw there is a 
 small hole, through which the animal emits a 
 poison, which, though harmless to us, is suffi- 
 ciently capable of instantly destroying its prey. 
 This is the most powerful weapon they, have 
 against their enemies ; they can open or extend 
 tliese pincers as occasion may require ; and 
 when they are undisturbed, they suffer them to 
 lie one upon the other, never opening them but 
 when there is a necessity for their exertion. 
 They have all eight legs, jointed like those of 
 lobsters, and similar also in another respect ; 
 for if a leg be torn away, or a joint cut off, a 
 new one will quickly grow in its place, and 
 the animal will find itself fitted for combat as 
 before. At the end of each leg there are three 
 crooked moveable claws; namely, a small 
 one, placed higher up, like a cock's spur, by 
 the assistance of which it adheres to the threads 
 of its web. There are two others larger, which 
 meet together like a lobster's claw, by which 
 they can catch hold of the smallest depressions, 
 walking up or down the very polished surfaces, 
 on which they can find inequalities that are 
 imperceptible to our grosser sight. But when 
 they walk upon such bodies as are perfectly 
 smooth, as looking-glass or polished marble, 
 they squeeze a little sponge, which grows near 
 the extremity of their claws, and thus diffusing 
 
 a glutinous substance, adhere to the surface 
 until they make a second step. Besides the 
 eight legs just mentioned, these animals have 
 two others, which may more properly be call- 
 ed arms, as they do not serve to assist motion, 
 butare used )lf holding and managing theirprry. 
 
 The spider, though thus formidably equip- 
 ped, would seldom prove successful in the 
 rapture, were it not equally furnished with 
 other instruments to assist its depredations. 
 As it lives wholly upon flies, and is without 
 wings to pursue them, it is obvious they must 
 for ever escape so impotent an adversary ; l>ut 
 the spider is a most experienced hunter, and 
 spreads its nets to catch those animals it is un- 
 able to pursue. The spider's web is general- 
 ly laid in those places where flies are most apt 
 to come and shelter ; in the corners of rooms, 
 round the edges of windows, and in the open 
 air among the branches of trees. There the 
 little animal remains for days, nay, weeks 
 together, in patient expectation, seldom chang- 
 ing its situation though never so unsuccessful. 
 
 For the purposes of making this web, na- 
 ture has supplied this animal with a large 
 quantity of glutinous matter within its body, 
 and five dugs or teats for spinning it into 
 thread. This substance is contained in a little 
 bag, and at first sight it resembles soft glue ; 
 but when examined more accurately, it will 
 be found twisted into many coils of an agate 
 colour, and upon breaking it, the contents ntay 
 be easily drawn out into threads, from the 
 tenacity of the substance, not from those 
 threads being already formed. Those who 
 have seen the machine by which wire is spun, 
 will have an idea of the manner in which this 
 animal forms the threads of its little net, the 
 orifices of the five teats above mentioned, 
 through which the thread is drawn, contract- 
 ing or dilating at pleasure. The threads w hich 
 we see, and appear so fine, are, notwithstand- 
 ing, composed of five joined together, and 
 these arc many times doubled when the web 
 is in formation. 
 
 When a house-spider proposes to begin a 
 web, it first makes choice of some commodi- 
 ous spot, where there is an appearance of 
 plunder and security. The animal then distils 
 one little drop of its glutinous liquor, which is 
 very tenacious, and then creeping up the 
 wall, and joining its thread as it proceeds, it 
 darts itself in a very surprising manner, as I 
 
THE SPIDER KIND. 
 
 749 
 
 have often seen, to the opposite place, where 
 the other end of the web is to be fastened. 
 The first thread thus formed, drawn tight, and 
 fixed at each end, the spider then runs upon it 
 backward and forward, still assiduously em- 
 ployed in doubling and strengthening it, as 
 uponils force depends the strength and stability 
 of the whole. The scaffolding thus completed, 
 the spider makes a number of threads parallel 
 to the first, in the same manner, and then 
 crosses them with others; the clammy sub- 
 stance of which they are formed, serving (o 
 bind them, when newly made, to each other. 
 The insect, after this opt ration, doubles and 
 trebles the thread that borders its web, by 
 opening all its teats at once, and secures the 
 edges, so as to prevent the wind from blowing 
 the work away. The edges being thus forti- 
 fied, the retreat is next to be attended to ; 
 and this is formed like a funnel at the bottom 
 of the web, where the little creature lies con- 
 cealed. To this are two passages, or outlets, 
 one above and the other below, very artfully 
 contrived, to give the animal an opportunity 
 of making excursions at proper seasons, of 
 prying into every corner, and cleaning thosp 
 parts which are observed to be clogged or 
 encumbered. Still attentive to its web, the 
 spider, from time to time, cleans away the 
 dust that gathers round it, which might other- 
 wise clog and incommode it : for this purpose, 
 it gives the whole a shake with its paws ; still, 
 however, proportioning the blow so as not to 
 endanger the fabric. It often happens also, 
 that from the main web there are several 
 threads extended at some distance on every 
 side; these are, in some measure, the outworks 
 of the fortification, which, whenever touched 
 from without, the spider prepares for attack 
 or self-defence. If the insect impinging be a 
 fly, it springs forward with great agility ; if, 
 on the contrary, it be the assault of an enemy 
 stronger than itself, it keeps within its fortress, 
 and never ventures out till the danger be over. 
 Another advantage which the spider reaps from 
 this contrivance of a cell or retreat behind the 
 web, is, that it serves for a place where the 
 creature can feast upon its game with all safety, 
 and conceal the fragments of those carcasses 
 which it has picked, without exposing to pub- 
 lic view the least trace of barbarity, that might 
 create a suspicion in any insects that their 
 enemy was near. 
 
 It often happens, however, that the wind, 
 or the rustling of the branches, or the approach 
 of some large animal, destroys in a minute the 
 labours of an age. In this case, the spider is 
 obliged to remain a patient spectator of the 
 universal ruin ; and \\ hen the danger is passed 
 away, it sets about repairing the calamity. 
 For this purpose, it is furnished with a large 
 store of the glutinous substance of which the 
 web is made ; and with this, it cither makes 
 a new web, or patches up the old one. In 
 general, however, the animal is nsuch fonder 
 of mending than making, as it is furnished 
 originally with but a certain quantity of glu- 
 tinous matter, which, when exhausted, nothing 
 can renew. The time seldom fails to come, 
 when their reservoirs are entirely dried up, 
 and the poor animal is left to all the chances 
 of irretrievable necessity. An old spider is 
 thus frequently reduced to the greatest ex- 
 tremity ; its web is destroyed, and it wants 
 the materials to make a new one. But as 
 these animals have been long accustomed to a 
 life of shifting, it hunts about to find out the 
 web of another spider, younger and weaker 
 than itself, with whom it ventures a battle. 
 The invader generally succeeds ; the young 
 one is driven out to make a new web, and the 
 old one remains in quiet possession. If, how- 
 ever, the spider is unable to dispossess any 
 other of its web, it then endeavours, for a 
 while, to subsist upon accidental depredation; 
 but in two or three months it inevitably dies of 
 hunger. 
 
 The garden-spider seems to work in a dif- 
 ferent manner. The method with this insect 
 is to spin a great quantity of thread, which 
 floating in the air in various directions, hap- 
 pens from its glutinous quality, at last to stick 
 to some object near it, a lofty plant or the 
 branch of a tree. The spider only wants to 
 have one end of the line fast, in order to secure 
 and tighten the other. It accordingly draws- 
 the line when thus fixed, and then by passing 
 and repassing upon it, strengthens the thread 
 in such a manner as to answer all its inten- 
 tions. The first cord being thus stretched, 
 the spider walks along a part of it, and there 
 fastens another, and dropping from thence, 
 fastens the thread to some solid body below, 
 then climbs up again and begins a third, which 
 it fastens by the same contrivance. When 
 three threads are thus fixed, it forms a square, 
 
 5 M 
 
750 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 or something that very nearly resembles one, j 
 and in tins the airiiiml is generally seen to re- 
 side. It often happens, however, when the ! 
 young spider begins spinning, that its web be- 
 comes too buoyant, and not only the thread 
 floats in the a'ir, but even the little spinster. 
 In this manner \ve have often seen the threads 
 of spiders floating in the air; and what is still j 
 more surprising, the young spiders themselves j 
 attached to their own web. The reason is I 
 obvious ; for as even gold itself may be so 
 finely drawn out as to float in the air, so the 
 finer thread of a spider is so buoyant as not | 
 only to sw'rn in the air, but also to lift the 
 spider itself; which, like the tail of a kite, rises 
 with its own manufacture. 
 
 The spider's web being thus completed, and 
 fixed in a proper place, its next care is to seize 
 and secure whatever insect happens to be 
 caught in the toil. For this purpose, it remains 
 for weeks and even months upon the watch, 
 without ever catching a single fly ; for the spi- 
 der, like most other insects, is surprisingly 
 patient of hunger. It sometimes happens that 
 too strong a fly strikes itself against the web, 
 and thus, instead of being caught, tears the net 
 to pieces. In general, however, the butterfly 
 or the hornet, when they touch the web, fly 
 off again, and the spider seems no way dis- 
 posed to interrupt their retreat. The large 
 blue-bottle-fly, the ichneumon-fly, and the 
 common meat-fly, seem to be its favourite 
 game. When one of these strike into the toils, 
 the spider is instantly seen alert and watchful 
 at the mouth of its hole, careful to observe 
 whether the fly be completely immeshed : if 
 that be the case, the spider walks leisurely for- 
 ward, seizes its prey, and instantly kills it by 
 instilling a venomous juice into the wound it 
 makes. If, however, the fly be not entirely 
 immeshed, the spider patiently waits, without 
 appearing uniil its prey has fatigued itself by 
 its struggles to obtain its liberty ; for if the 
 ravager should appear in all his terrors while 
 the prey is but half involved, a desperate effort 
 might give k force enough to get free. If the 
 spider has fristed for a long time, it then drags 
 the fly immediately into its hole and devours 
 it ; but if there has been plenty of game, and 
 the animal be no way pressed by hunger, it 
 then gives the fly two or three turns in its web, 
 so as completely to immesh it, and there leaves 
 it impotently to struggle until the little tyrant 
 
 COIIK-S to its appetite. W'hy the spider should 
 at one time kill its prey, and at another suffer 
 it to struggle in the toils for several hours to- 
 gether, 1 am not able to say ; perhaps it only 
 likes its prey newly killed, and therefore de- 
 lays to put the captive to death until it is to be 
 ea'.en. 
 
 It has been the opinion of some philosophers, 
 that the spider was in itself both male and fe- 
 male ; but Lister has been able to distinguish 
 the sexes, and to perceive that the males were 
 much less in size than the females. But this 
 is not the chief peculiarity ; for, different from 
 all other animals, except the fish called the 
 Ray, it has its instruments of generation placed 
 in the fore-arms, which have been already de- 
 scribed. When these animals copulate, they 
 for some time tease each other with their legs 
 and arms, then appear the instruments of 
 generation in the male, as if bursting out from 
 the points of its fore feet, and are inserted 
 into the receptacle beneath the body of the fe- 
 male. 
 
 The female generally lays from nine hun- 
 dred to a thousand eggs in a season ; they 
 are of a bluish colour, speckled with black, 
 and separated from each other by a glutinous 
 substance, not unlike frog spawn water. These 
 eggs are large or small in proportion to the 
 size of the animal that produces them. In 
 some they are as large as a grain of mustard- 
 seed ; in others, they are scarcely visible. 
 The female never begins to lay till she be two 
 years old at the least, and her first brood is 
 never so numerous as when she has come to 
 her greatest maturity. 
 
 When the number of eggs which the spider 
 has brought forth, have remained for an hour 
 or two to dry after exclusion, the little animal 
 then prepares to make them a bag, where they 
 are to be hatched until they leave the shell. 
 For this purpose, she spins a w eb four or 
 five times stronger than that made for catch- 
 ing flies ; and besides, lines it within side by a 
 down, which she plucks from her own breast. 
 This bag, when completed, is as thick as 
 paper, is smooth within side, but rougher with- 
 out. Within this they deposite ti eir eggs ; 
 and it is almost incredible to relate the con- 
 cern and industry which they bestow in the 
 preservation of it. They stick it by means of 
 their glutinous fluid to the end of their body; 
 so that the animal, when thus loaded, appears 
 
THE SPIDER KIND. 
 
 as if she had one body placed behind another. 
 If this bag be separated from her by any ucci- 
 dent, she employs all her assiduity to stick it 
 again in its former situation, ami seldom aban- 
 dons her treasure but with her life. \V hen the 
 young ones are excluded from their shells, 
 within the bag, they remain for some time in 
 their confinement, until the female, instinctive- 
 ly knowing their maturity, bites open their 
 prison, and sets them free. But her parental 
 care does not terminate with their exclusion ; 
 she receives them upon her back for some 
 time, until they have strength to provide for 
 themselves, when they leave her never to re- 
 turn, and each begins a separate manufactory 
 of its own. The young ones begin to spin 
 when they can scarcely be discerned ; and 
 prepare for a life of plunder before they have 
 strength to overcome. Indeed, nature seems 
 to have formed them in every respect for a life 
 of hostility. No other insect is possessed of 
 such various powers of assault and defence ; 
 and they are able to destroy animals ten times 
 bigger tlian the nselves. Even after a severe 
 defeat, they quickly recover of their wounds; 
 and as for their leg^, they consider the loss of 
 them as but a small misfortune, as they grow 
 again very speedily to their former magni- 
 tude. 
 
 Thus there is no insect to which they are 
 not an enemy ; but what is more barbarous 
 still, spiders are the enemies of each other. 
 Mr. Reau nur, who was fond of making expe- 
 riments upon insects, tried to turn the labours 
 of the spider to human advantage, and actual- 
 ly made a pair of gloves from their webs. 
 For this purpose, he collected a large number 
 of those insects together : he took care to have 
 them constantly supplied with Hies, and the 
 ends of young feathers, fresh picked from 
 chickens and pigeons, which being full of 
 blood, are a diet that spiders are particularly 
 fond of. But, notwithstanding all his cm 1 , 
 be was soon convinced tiiat it was impracti- 
 cable to rear them, since they were of such a 
 malignant nature, that they could never IK- 
 brought to live in society ; but instead of tlvir 
 usual food, chose to devour each other. In- 
 deed, were it practicable to reconcile them to 
 each other, it would require too much attend- 
 ance to rear up a sufficient number to make 
 the project any way useful. Their thread is 
 four, if not five times finer than that of the silk- 
 
 worm ; so that upon the smallest calculation, 
 there must have been sixty thousand spiders to 
 make a single pound of silk. That which 
 Reaumur made use of was only the web in 
 which they deposited their eggs, which is five 
 times stronger than their ordinary manufac- 
 ture. 
 
 Of this animal, there arc several kinds, 
 slightly differing from each other, either in 
 habits or conformation. The Water spider is 
 the most remarkable of the number. This 
 insect resembles the common spider in its ap- 
 pearnnce, except that its hinder part is made 
 rather in the shape of a nine-pin than a ball. 
 They differ in being able to live as well by 
 land as water ; and in being capable of spin- 
 ning as well in one element as the other. 
 Their appearance under water is very remark- 
 able; for though they inhabit the bottom, yet 
 they are never touched by the clement in 
 which they reside, but are enclosed in a bubble 
 of air that, like a box, surrounds them on 
 every side. This bubble has the bright ap- 
 pearance, at the bottom, of quicksilver; and 
 within this they perform their several func- 
 tions of eating, spinning, and sleeping, without 
 its ever busting, or in the least disturbing their 
 operations : sometimes, the bubble is seen 
 divided into three distinct apartments ; and 
 in the spring, the male enters one of those to 
 impregnate the female in the manner mention- 
 ed above, while the bubble in which he was 
 contained unites ith the oilier, like two drops 
 of water, when approached to each otl.er. 
 They spin their webs as well in the water as 
 upon land ; and it is most probable that they 
 make their food of the small insects of either 
 element. 
 
 The Tarantula is also of this species, and 
 deserves particular notice, not for any remark- 
 able properties that really attend it, but for the 
 numerous falsehoods vt hich have been propa- 
 gated concerning it. What may be said with 
 tru:h concerning it is, that it is the larg< st of 
 the spller kii; I known in Europe, and is a 
 native of Apulia in Italy. Its body is three 
 quarters of an inch long, and about as thick 
 as one's little finger ; the colour is generally an 
 olive brown, variegated with one that is more 
 dusky ; it has eight legs and eight eyes, like 
 the rest, and nippers, which are sharp and ser- 
 rated : between these and the fore legs, there 
 are two little horns, or feelers, which it is 
 
752 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 observed to move very briskly when it ap- 
 proaches its prey. It is covered all over the 
 body with a soft down, and propagates, as 
 other spiders, by laying eggs. In the summer 
 months, particularly in the dog-days, the ta- 
 rantula creeping among the corn, bites the 
 mowers and passengers : but in winter, it 
 lurks in holes, and is seldom seen. 
 
 Thus far is true; but now the fable begins: 
 for though the bite is attended witli no dan- 
 gerous symptoms, and will easily cure of it- 
 self, wonderful stories are reported concern- 
 ing its virulence. The part which is bitten, 
 as we are told, is soon after discoloured with 
 a livid black, or yellowish circle, attended 
 with an inflammation. At first the pain is 
 scarcely felt; but a few hours after, come on 
 a violent sickness, difficulty of breathing, 
 fainting, and sometimes trembling. The per- 
 son bit after this does nothing but laugh, 
 dance, skip about, putting himself into the 
 most extravagant postures, and sometimes 
 also is seized with a most frightful melancho- 
 ly. At the return of the season in which he 
 was bit, his madness begins again ; and the 
 patient always talks of the same things. 
 Sometimes he fancies himself a shepherd : 
 sometimes a king; appearing entirely out of 
 his senses. These troublesome symptoms 
 sometimes return for several years succes- 
 sively, and at last terminate in death. But 
 so dreadful a disorder has, it seems, not been 
 left without a remedy ; which is no other 
 than a well played fiddle. For this purpose 
 
 the medical musician plays a particular tune, 
 tumous for the cure, which he begins slow, 
 and 'increases in quickness as he sees the pa- 
 tient affected. The patient no sooner hears 
 the music, but he begins to dance; and con- 
 tinues so doing till he is all over in a sweat, 
 which forces out the venom that appeared so 
 dangerous. This dancing sometimes con- 
 tinues for three or four hours, before the pa- 
 tient is weary, and before the sweating is co- 
 pious enough to cure the disorder. Such 
 are the symptoms related of the tarantula 
 poison; symptoms which some of the best and 
 gravest physicians have credited, and at- 
 Tempted to account for. But the truth is, that 
 the whole is an imposition of the peasants 
 upon travellers who happen to pass through 
 that part of the country, and who procure a 
 trifle for suffering themselves to be bitten by 
 the tarantula. Whenever they find a travel- 
 ler willing to try the experiment, they readily 
 offer themselves, and are sure to counterfeit 
 the whole train of symptoms which music is 
 supposed to remove. A friend of mine, who 
 had passed through that part of the country, 
 had a trusty servant bitten, without ever ad- 
 ministering the musical cure : the only symp- 
 toms were a slight inflammation, which was 
 readily removed, and no other consequence 
 ever attended the bite. It is thus that false- 
 hoods prevail for a century or two; and 
 mankind at last begin to wonder how it 
 was possible to keep up the delusion so 
 long. 
 
 CHAPTER CLXX. 
 
 OF THE FLEA. 
 
 THE history of those animals with which 
 we are the best acquainted, are the first ob- 
 jects of our chiefest curiosity. There are 
 few but are well informed of the agility and 
 blood-thirsty disposition of the flea; of the 
 caution with which it comes to the attack ; 
 and the readiness with which it avoids the 
 pursuit. This insect, which is not only the 
 
 enemy of mankind, but of the dog, cat, am 
 several other animals, is found in every part 
 of the world, but bites with greater severity 
 in some countries than in others. Its num- 
 bers in Italy and France are much greater 
 than in England ; and yet its bite is much 
 more troublesome here, than I have found it 
 in any other place. It would seem that its 
 
THE LOUSE KIND. 
 
 7.53 
 
 force increase with the coldness of the cli- 
 mate; and, though less prolific, that it became 
 more predaceous. 
 
 If the flea be examined with a microscope, 
 it will be observed to have a small head, 
 large eyes, and a roundish body. It has two 
 feelers, or horns, which are short, and com- 
 posed of four joints; and between these lies 
 its trunk, which it buries in the skin, and 
 through which it sucks the blood in large 
 quantities. The body appears to be all over 
 curiously adorned with a suit of polished 
 sable armour, neatly jointed, and beset with 
 multitudes of sharp pins, almost like the quills 
 of a porcupine. It has six legs, the joints of 
 which are so adapted, that it can, as it were, 
 fold them up one within another; and when 
 it leaps, they all spring out at once, whereby 
 its whole strength is exerted, and the body 
 
 raised above two hundred times its own di- 
 ameter. 
 
 The young fleas are at first a sort of nits 
 or eggs, which are round and smooth ; and 
 from these proceed white worms, of a shining 
 pearl colour: in a fortnight's time they come 
 to a tolerable size, and are very lively and 
 active; but if they are touched at this time, 
 they roll themselves up in a ball : soon after 
 this they begin to creep like silk-worms that 
 have no legs: and they seek a place to lie 
 hid in, where they spin a silken thread from 
 their mouth, and with this they enclose them- 
 selves in a small round bag or case, as white 
 within as writing-paper, but dirty without : 
 in this they continue lor a fortnight longer : 
 after which they burst from their confine- 
 ment perfectly formed, and armed with pow- 
 [ ers to disturb the peace of an emperor. 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXI. 
 
 OF THE LOUSE, AND ITS VARIETIES. 
 
 THE antipathies of mankind are various; 
 some considering the toad, some the serpent, 
 some the spider, and some the beetle, with a 
 strong degree of detestation: but while all 
 wonder at the strangeness of each other's 
 aversions, they all seem to unite in their dis- 
 like to the louse, and regard it as their natu- 
 ral and most nauseous enemy. Indeed, it 
 seems the enemy of man in the most odious 
 degree, for wherever wretchedness, disease, 
 or hunger seize upon him, the louse seldom 
 fails to add itself to the tribe, and to increase 
 in proportion to the number of his calamities. 
 
 In examining the human louse with the 
 microscope, its external deformity first strikes 
 us witli disgust; the shape of the fore part of 
 the head is somewhat oblong ; that of the 
 hind part somewhat round : the skin is hard, 
 arid being stretched, transparent, with here 
 and there several bristly hairs: in the fore 
 part is a proboscis or sucker, which is seldom 
 visible: on each side of the head are antennae, 
 or horns, each divided into five joints, cover- 
 ed with bristly hair; and several white ves- 
 
 sels are seen through these horns : behind 
 these are the eyes, which seem to want those 
 divisions observable in other insects, and ap- 
 pear encompassed with some few hairs: the 
 neck is very short, and the breast is divided 
 into three parts; on each side of which are 
 placed six legs, consisting of six joints, cover- 
 ed also with bristly hairs; the ends of the 
 legs are armed with two smaller and larger 
 ruddy claws, serving those insects as a finger 
 and thumb, by which they catch hold of such 
 objects as they approach : the end of the 
 body terminates in a cloven tail, while the 
 sides are all over hairy; the whole resembling 
 clear parchment, and, when roughly pressed, 
 cracking with a noise. 
 
 When we take a closer view, its white 
 veins, and other internal parts appear, as like- 
 wise a most wonderful motion in ils intestines, 
 from the transparency of its external cover- 
 ing. When the louse feeds, the blood is seen 
 to rush, like a torrent, into the stomach ; and 
 its greediness is so great, that the excrements 
 contained in the intestines are ejected at the 
 
754 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 same time, to make room for this new sup- 
 ply- 
 
 The louse has neither bersk, teeth, norany 
 kind of mouth, as Dr. Hooke described it, for 
 the entrance into the gullet is absolutely 
 closed. In the place of all these, it has a 
 proboscis or trunk ; or, as it imy be other- 
 wise called, a pointed, hollow sucker, with 
 which it pierces the skin, and sucks the hu- 
 man blood, taking that for food only. The 
 stomach is lodged partly in the breast and 
 back; but the greatest portion of it is in the 
 abdomen. When swollen with blood, it ap- 
 pears of a dark brown colour, which is visi- 
 ble through the skin; and is either a faint 
 red, or a full or bright brown, as the contents 
 of the stomach are more or less changed. 
 When it is empty, it is colourless; but when 
 filled, it is plainly discernible, and its motion 
 seems very extraordinary. It then appears 
 working with verystrongagitalions,and some- 
 what resembles an animal within an animal. 
 Superficial observers are apt to take this for 
 the pulsation of the heart ; but if the animal 
 be observed when it is sucking, it will thru 
 be found that the food takes a direct passage 
 from the trunk to the stomach, where the re- 
 mainder of the old aliment \\ill be seen mix- 
 ing with the new, and agitated up and down 
 on every side. 
 
 If this animal be kept from food two or 
 three days, and then placed on the back of 
 the hand, or any soft part of the body, it will 
 immediately seek for food ; which it will the 
 more readily find, if the hand be rubbed till 
 it grows red. The animal then turns its head, 
 which lies between the t\vo fore legs, to the 
 skin, and diligently searches for some pore : 
 when found, it fixes the trunk therein ; and 
 soon the microscope discovers the blood as- 
 cending through the head, in a very rapid, 
 and even frightful stream. The lonse has at 
 that time sufficient appetite to feed in a;iv 
 posture ; it is then seen sucking with its head 
 downward, and its tail elevated. If, during 
 this operation, the skin be drawn tight, (he 
 trunk is bound fist, arid the animal is incapa- 
 ble of disengaging itself; but it more fre- 
 quently suffers from its gluttony, since it gor- 
 ges to such a degree, that it is crushed to 
 pieces by the slightest impression. 
 
 Whether lice are distinguished by the parts 
 
 of generation into males and females is not 
 yet discovered : Swammerdana is inclined to 
 think that they are hermaphrodites. 1 avhg 
 foutid an ovary in all those he exrnined; 
 and he dissected not less than Ibrly-two. In 
 one of these animals were found ten large 
 eggs; and forly-tbur smaller, (hat were not 
 yet come to their full perfection. 
 
 There is scarce any animal that multiplies 
 so fast as this unwelcome intruder. It has 
 been pleasantly said, that a louse becomes a 
 grandfather in the space of twenty-lour hours; 
 this fact cannot be ascertained : but nothing 
 is more true than the moment the nit, which 
 is no other than the egg of the louse, gets rid 
 of its superfluous moisture, and throws ofTits 
 shell, but it then begins to breed in its turn. 
 Nothing so much prevents the increase of this 
 nauseous animal as cold and want of humidity; 
 the nits must be laid in a place that is warm, 
 and moderately moist, to produce any thing. 
 This is the reason that many nits laid on the 
 hairs in the night-time, are destroyed by the 
 cold of the succeeding day; and so stick for 
 several months, till they at last come to lose 
 even their external form. 
 
 The louse is found upon every part of the 
 human body; but particularly in the heads 
 of children. Those found upon the miners 
 in Sweden, are said by Linna?us to be very 
 large ; and he is of opinion that the head and 
 the body-louse differ in no respect from each 
 other. The pthiriasis,or lousy disease, though 
 very little known at present, was frequent 
 enough among the ancients: Herod, Airii- 
 ochiis. Epiphanes. Alcman. the poet, Pherecjv 
 des. Cassander, Callisthenes, and Sylln. all 
 died of this disorder. The use of mercury, 
 which was unknown among the ancients, may 
 probably have banished it from among the 
 moderns ; for certain it is, that these animals 
 seldom attack any in our climate, but such 
 as fro'n slo'h or famine invite their company. 
 
 Such is the history of the human louse, 
 which, from its connection with mankind, de- 
 serves first notice : but it would be endless 
 to describe the various tribes that go under 
 this name, and swarm upon every part of na- 
 ture. There is scarce an animal, and scarce 
 even a vegetable, that does not suffer under 
 its own peculiar louse. The sheep, the 
 horse, the hog, and the elephant, are all 
 
THE LOUSE KIND. 
 
 teased by them ; the whale, the shark, the 
 sahnon, and the lobster, are not without their 
 company; while every hot-house, and every 
 garden is infested with some peculiarly de- 
 structive. Linnaeus tells us, that he once 
 found a vegetable-louse upon some plants 
 newly arrived from America; and, willing to 
 trace the little animal through its various 
 stages, he brought it with him from London 
 to Leyden, where he carefully preserved it 
 during the winter, until it bred in the spring; 
 but the louse it seems did not treat him with 
 all the gratitude he expected ; for it became 
 the parent of so numerous a progeny, that it 
 soon overrun all the physic-garden of that 
 beautiful city ; and leaves, to this day, many 
 a gardener to curse the Swede's too indul- 
 gent curiosity. 
 
 The animal w'liich some have called the 
 Leaf-louse, is of the size of a flea, and of a 
 bright green.or bluish-green colour; the body 
 is nearly oval, and is largest and most convex 
 on the hinder part ; the breast is very small, 
 and the head is blunt and green : the eyes 
 may be seen very plainly, being prominent 
 on the fore part of the head, and of a shining 
 black colour; near these there is a black 
 line on each side ; and the legs are very slen- 
 der. 
 
 Those animals are usually found upon the 
 leaves of the orache, and other plants; and 
 (he weaker the leaves and buds are, these 
 insects swartn upon them in greater abun- 
 dance. Some plants are covered over with 
 them; though they are not the cause of the 
 plant's weakness, but the sign: however, by 
 wounding and sucking the leaf, they increase 
 the disease. They generally assume their 
 colour from the plant on which they reside. 
 Those that feed upon pot-herbs and plum- 
 frees, are of an ash-colour; only they are 
 greenish when they are young: those that 
 belong to the alder and cherry-tree, are 
 black; as also those upon beans, and some 
 other plants : those on the leaves of apples 
 and rose-trees, are white; but as they leap, 
 like grasshoppers, some place them in the 
 number of the flea kind. The most uncom- 
 mon colour is reddish; and lice of this sort 
 may be found on the leaves of tansey ; and 
 their juice, when rubbed in the hands, tinges 
 them with no disagreeable red. All these 
 
 NO. G3 & 64. 
 
 live upon their respective plant; and arc 
 often engendered within the very substance 
 of the leaf. 
 
 All these bring forth their young alive; 
 and the fetus, when it is ready to be 
 brought forth, entirely fills the belly of the 
 female ; its fore parts being excluded first, 
 and then the hinder. The young one does 
 not begin to move till the horns or feelers 
 appear out of the body of the old one ; and 
 by the motion of these it first shows signs of 
 life, moving them in every direction, and 
 bending all their joints. When the horns and 
 head are excluded, the two fore feet follow, 
 which they move with equal agility; after 
 this follow the middle feet, and then the 
 hinder: still, however, the young one con- 
 tinues sticking to its parent, supported only 
 at one extremity, and hanging, as it were in 
 air, until its small and soft members become 
 hardened and fitted for self-support. The 
 parent then gets rid of its burden; by moving 
 from the place uhere she was sitting, and 
 forcing the young one to stand upon its legs, 
 leaves it to shift tor itself. 
 
 As the animal has riot far to go, its provi- 
 sions lying beneath it, during the summer it 
 continues to eat and creep about with great 
 agility. But as it is viviparous, and must 
 necessarily lurk somewhere in winter, where 
 its body may be defended from the cold, it 
 endeavours to secure a retreat, near the trees 
 or plants that serve to nourish it in the be- 
 ginning of spring. They never hide them- 
 selves in the earth, like many other insects, 
 because they have no part of their bodies 
 fitted lo remove the earth; nor can they 
 creep into every chink, as their legs are too 
 long: besides, their bodies are so tender, 
 that the least rough particle of the earth 
 would hurt them. They, therefore, get into 
 the deep chinks of the bark, and into the 
 cavities of the stronger stalks, from whence 
 they sally out upon the branches and leaves, 
 when the warmth of the sun begins to be felt. 
 Neither the cold in the autumnal season, nor 
 the lesser degree of heat in the spring, ever 
 hurts them ; they seldom, therefore, seek for 
 hiding-places before the fall of the leaf, and 
 are alert enough to take the earliest advan- 
 tage of the returning spring. 
 
 Like many other insects, they cast their 
 5N 
 
 
756 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 skins four several times ; and, what is very 
 remarkable, the males have four wings, but 
 the females never have any. They all have 
 long leg?, not only to enable them to creep 
 over the long hairs of plants or leaves, but 
 also to travel from one tree to another when 
 they happen to stand at a distance. Their 
 trunk or snout lies under their breast ; and 
 this they thrust into the pores of the plant to 
 suck out the juice, for they do not gnaw them, 
 like the caterpillar ; but so hurt them by 
 sucking, that the leaves become spotted, and 
 as it were overrun with scabs ; for which 
 reason their edges always turn up towards the 
 middle. 
 
 It has been said, that these insects are often 
 cirried away and devoured by ants ; but this 
 Frysch, from whom this description is taken, 
 oould never observe. The ants, indeed, are 
 fond of those trees where there is a great num- 
 ber of those insects ; but then it is only to suck 
 the juice which flows from the leaves that 
 have been just wounded. This more parti- 
 
 ! cularly happens in the heat of summer, when 
 other moisture is wanting : however, he never 
 found them hurting or carrying away any of 
 these insects while alive; nor, indeed, were 
 they able, for the leaf-louse is more than a 
 match for the ant at single combat. When- 
 ever they perceive the ant approaching behind 
 them, they kick back with their hinder feet* 
 and thus drive off the invader, as a horse 
 would a lion. 
 
 The three principal and constant enemies 
 to these insects are, first, the fire-fly, which 
 lays its eggs where these insects are in greatest 
 number, which, producing a worm, seizes and 
 devours all the leaf-lice that come near it : 
 another enemy is the worm of a peculiar kind 
 of beetle, which destroys them in great num- 
 bers : but the most formidable of all enemies, 
 is the ichneumon fly, that seizes upon one of 
 the largest females, and laying its egg upon 
 her, this is hatched into a worm, which soon 
 devours and destroys the animal from whose 
 body it sprung. 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXII. 
 
 OF THE BUG, AND ITS VARIETIES. 
 
 THE Bug is another of those nauseous in- 
 sects that intrude upon the retreats of man- 
 kind ; and that often banish that sleep, which 
 even sorrow and anxiety permitted to ap- 
 proach. This, to many men, is of all other 
 insects the most troublesome and obnoxious. 
 The night is usually the season when the 
 wretched have rest from their labour; but 
 this seems the only season when the bug issues 
 from its retreats, to make its depredations. 
 By day it lurks, like a robber, in the most 
 secret parts of the bed ; takes the advantage 
 of every chink and cranny, to make a secure 
 lodgment ; and contrives its habitation with 
 so much art, that scarce any industry can dis- 
 cover its retreat. It seems to avoid the light 
 with great cunning ; and even if candles be 
 kept burning, this formidable insect will not 
 issue from its hiding-place. But when dark- 
 ness promises security, it then issues from 
 f very corner of the bed, drops from the teas- 
 
 ter, crawls from behind the arras, and travels 
 with great assiduity to the unhappy patient, 
 who vainly wishes for rest and refreshment. 
 It is generally vain to destroy one only, as 
 there are hundreds more to revenge their 
 companion's fate ; so that the person who 
 thus is subject to be bitten, remains the whole 
 night like a centinel upon duty, rather watch- 
 ing the approach of fresh invaders, than in- 
 viting the pleasing approaches of sleep. 
 
 Nor are these insects less disagreeable from 
 their nauseous stench, than their unceasing 
 appetites. When they begin to crawl, the 
 whole bed is infected with the smell : but if 
 they are accidentally killed, then it is insup- 
 portable. 
 
 These are a part of the inconveniences that 
 result from the persecution of these odious in- 
 sects : but happily for Great Britain, they 
 multiply less in these islands than in any part 
 of the continent. In France and Italy the 
 
THE BUG KIND. 
 
 757 
 
 beds, particularly in their inns, swarm with 
 them ; and every piece of furniture seems to 
 afford them a retreat. They grow larger also 
 with them than with us, and bite with more 
 eruel appetite. 
 
 This animal, if examined minutely, appears 
 to consist of three principal parts ; the head, 
 the corselet, and the belly. It has two brown 
 eyes, that are very small, and a little promi- 
 nent, besides two feelers, with three joints : 
 underneath these there is a crooked trunk, 
 which is its instrument of torture, and which, 
 when in motion, lies close upon the breast. 
 The breast is a kind of ring, in which are 
 pi iced ihe two first pair of legs. The belly 
 consists of nine rings ; under which are placed 
 two pair of legs more, making six in all. 
 Each leg has three joints, which form the 
 thigh, the leg, and the foot, which is armed 
 with a crooked claw, like a hook. The body 
 is smooth, except a few short hairs, that may 
 be seen by the microscope, about the vent, 
 and on the two last rings. Its motion is slow 
 and unwieldy ; yet its sight is so exquisite, 
 that the instant it perceives the light, it gene- 
 rally makes good its retreat ; and they are 
 seldom caught, though the bed swarms with 
 them. 
 
 If we examine this insect internally, we 
 shall find the great artery, which in all insects 
 performs the functions of the heart ; we shall 
 find (he apertures of the lungs on the right 
 side and the left, through which the animal 
 breaths ; we shall find a stomach and intes- 
 tines, which, as in other anim.ds, run from the 
 month to the anus. If the insect has been 
 kept long fastin-i, there will be a mucus found 
 in its body, like the white of an egg ; but if 
 crushed afrer a full meal, the human blood 
 which it has sucked in, will appear a little 
 darkened, by having passed through the in- 
 sect's body. 
 
 The male and female of these animals are 
 plainly distinguishable from ench other ; and 
 the parts of generation are obvious enough. 
 f, v ,nH rmmiins: tail to tail ; 
 
 ,,.. ,. 0D ., 
 
 and in this state are very easily destroyed. 
 The female has an ovary filled with eggs, 
 joined together like a bunch of grapes ; tach 
 egg being oblong, almost cylindrical, inclining 
 to white, and pretty transparent. In about 
 two days after impregnation by the male, she 
 deposites her eggs to the number of about a 
 hundred and fifty, in some convenient place 
 where they are likely to receive no disturbance. 
 There they continue for some months; during 
 which time, neither cold nor heat, neither 
 moisture nor fumigation, can in the lenst re- 
 tard their exclusion ; but they come forth ac- 
 tive, and ready for mischief. It is this hardi- 
 ness in the shell that seems to continue the 
 breed ; as the old ones die every winter, or 
 are easily destroyed by any fumigation that is 
 used for that purpose. But the eggs seem in- 
 capable of destruction ; even those men who 
 make a livelihood by killing these nauseous 
 insects, though they ran answer for the parent, 
 can never be sure of the egg. For this reason 
 they usually pay those houses to which they 
 are called, a second or a third visit, and at last 
 exterminate them by perseverance. 
 
 The manner of destroying themseems rathet 
 the effects of assiduity than antidote ; for the 
 men called in upon this occasion, take every 
 part of the furniture asunder, brush every part 
 of it with great assiduity, anoint it with a 
 liquid which I take to be a solution of corro- 
 sive sublimate, and having performed this 
 operation twice or thrice, the vermin are most 
 usually destroyed. 
 
 Cleanliness, therefore, seems to be the best 
 antidote to remove these nauseous insects; and 
 wherever that is wanting, their increase seems 
 but a just punishment. Indeed, they are some- 
 times found in such numbers among old fur- 
 nituie, and neglected chambers, exposed to the 
 south, that, wanting other sustenance, they 
 devour each other. They are also enemies to 
 other vermin, and destroy fleas very effectual- 
 ly ; so that we seldom have the double perse- 
 cution of different vermin in the same bed. 
 Of the bug kind Linnaeus reckons up forty. 
 
753 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXIII. 
 
 OF THE WOOD-LOUSE, AND ITS VARIETIES. 
 
 THE common wood-louse is seldom above 
 half an inch long, and a quarter of an inch 
 broad. The colour is of a livid black, 
 especially when found about dunghills, and 
 on the ground ; but those that are to be met 
 with under tiles, and in drier places, are of 
 the colour of the hair of an ass. It has four- 
 l:?en feet, seven on each side; and they have 
 only one joint each, which is scarcely per- 
 ceivable. It has two short feelers, and the 
 body is of an oval shape. When it is touch- 
 ed, it rolls itself up into a sort of a ball; and 
 the sides near the feet are dentated like a 
 s nv. It is often found among rotten timber, 
 and on decayed trees ; in winter it lies hid 
 in the crevices of walls and al 1 sort* of build- 
 
 ings. 
 
 The male is easily distinguishable from 
 the female, being less and more slender. 
 The eggs they lay are white and shining, like 
 seed pearls, and are very numerous : how- 
 ever, more properly speaking, although, when 
 excluded, the young have all the appearance 
 of an egg, yet they are alive, arid without 
 throwing off any shell, stir and move about 
 with great vivacity ; so that this animal may 
 properly be said to be viviparous. The lit- 
 tle worms at first seem scarce able to stir; 
 but they soon feed, and become very brisk. 
 These animals are of great use in medicine : 
 being impregnated with a saline quality, 
 which is diuretic and stimulating. Of this 
 insect, Linnaeus makes three species. 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXIV. 
 
 OF THE MONOCULUS; OR, ABORESCENT WATER-FLEA. 
 
 THIS animal, which is of the size of a flea, 
 appears to the sight, unassisted by the mi- 
 croscope, to have but one eye ; for the eyes, 
 by reason of the smallness of the head, seem 
 to be joined to each other: they are situated 
 in the trunk of this insect, and the beak is 
 likewise very small and sharp-pointed. The 
 structure of the eye is seen, by the micro- 
 scope, to be reticulated, or made like a net ; 
 and the trunk of this insect, by which it feeds, 
 is not only small and sharp, but also transpa- 
 rent. The insects are of a blood-red colour; 
 and sometimes are seen in such multitudes 
 on the surface of standing water, as to make 
 them appear all over red, whence many fan- 
 ciful people have thought the water to be 
 turned into blood. 
 
 Swammerdam tells us of a celebrated pro- 
 fessor of Leyden, who was at first astonished 
 
 by an appearance of this kind. Being once 
 intent upon his studies, he heard a noise, of 
 which, as it increased by degrees, he was de- 
 sirous to know the cause. The maid-ser- 
 vant attending to his summons, appeared 
 quite petrified with fear, and told him with a 
 tremulous voice, that all the waters of Ley- 
 den were turned into blood ! Upon this he 
 went directly, in a small bark, to the place 
 where the water was thus changed, arid put 
 some of the bloody water into a glass ; but 
 upon viewing it with attention, he observed, 
 that it abounded with infinite numbers of 
 these little red insects, which tinged the 
 whole body of the fluid with that seemingly 
 formidable colour. Thus his sudden fright 
 was changed into lasting admiration. 
 
 Of all parts of this animal, its branching 
 arms, and the motion it makes with them in 
 
THE SCORPION KIND. 
 
 759 
 
 the water, deserve our greatest attention. 
 By these the little creature can move in a 
 straight line ; waving its arms, as a bird does 
 its wings in the air, sometimes upward, some- 
 times downward, sometimes to the right, 
 sometimes to the left, yet still continuing to 
 proceed in a right line. By striking the 
 water with its arms, it car ascend with great 
 velocity ; and by striking in a contrary di- 
 rection, it dives with equal ease. As these 
 motions are very rapid, the little animal ap- 
 pears to jump in the water, its head always 
 tending to the surface, and its tail stretched 
 downward. This insect is produced from an 
 
 ij egg, which, when excluded, is carried on the 
 back ol'the female, and soon is seen floating 
 in the water round her. Its appearance at 
 first is that of a very small whitish insect, 
 endued with a very nimble motion. Except 
 in colour, it suffers no change, only continuing 
 to grow larger and redder, as it grows old. 
 They sometimes remain several days on the 
 surface of the water; and sometimes an; 
 seen at the bottom only ; but they are never 
 at rest. They change their skin, like most 
 other insects; and the cast skin resembles 
 the insect itself so exactly, that one might 
 mistake the mask for the animal. 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXV. 
 
 OF THE SCORPION, AND ITS VARIETIES. 
 
 THERE is scarce an insect without wings 
 that is not obnoxious to man : the smallest 
 have the power of annoying him, either by 
 biting or stinging him ; and though each is in 
 itself contemptible, they become formidable 
 from their numbers. But of all this class, 
 there is none so terrible as the Scorpion, 
 whose shape is hideous, whose size among 
 the insect tribe is enormous, and whose sting 
 is generally fatal. Happy for England, the 
 scorpion is entirely a stranger among us! In 
 several parts of the continent of Europe it is 
 but too well known, though it seldom grows 
 above four inches long: but in the warm tro- 
 pical climates, it is seen a foot in length, and 
 in every respect as large as a lobster. 
 
 The scorpion is one of the largest of the 
 insect tribe, and not less terrible from its 
 size than its malignity. It resembles a lob- 
 ster somewhat in shape, but is infinitely more 
 hideous. There have been enumerated nine 
 different kinds of this dangerous insect, chief- 
 ly distinguished by their colour, there being 
 scorpions yellow, brown, and ash-coloured ; 
 others that are (he colour of rusty iron, green, 
 pale yellow, black, claret- colour, white, and 
 
 gy- 
 
 There are four principal parts distinguish- 
 able in this animal; the head, the breast, the 
 
 belly, and the tail. The scorpion's head 
 seems, as it were, jointed to the breast ; in 
 the middle are seen two eyes ; and a little 
 more forward, two eyes more, placed in the 
 fore part of the head : these eyes are so small, 
 that they are scarcely perceivable; and it is 
 probable the animal has but little occasion 
 for seeing. The mouth is furnished with 
 two jaws; the undermost is divided into (wo, 
 and the parts notched into each other, which 
 serves the animal as teeth, and with which it 
 breaks its food, and thrusts it into its mouth : 
 these the scorpion can at pleasure pull back 
 into its mouth, so that no part of them can be 
 seen. On each side of the head are two arms, 
 each composed of four joinls; the Inst of 
 which is large, with strong muscles, and made 
 in the manner of a lobster's claw. Below the 
 breast are eight articulated legs, each divided 
 into six joints; the two hindmost of which are 
 each provided with two crooked claws, and 
 here and there covered with hair. The belly 
 is divided into seven little rings.- from the 
 lowest of which is continued a tail composed 
 of six joints, which are bristly and formed like 
 little globes, the last being armed with a 
 crooked sting. This is that fatal instrument 
 which renders this insect so formidable: it is 
 long, pointed, hard, and hollow ; it is pierced 
 
760 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 near the base by two small holes, through 
 n liich, when the animal stings, it ejects ;i drop 
 of poison, which is white, caustic, and fatal. 
 The reservoir in which this poison is kept, is 
 in n small Madder near the tail, into wliich 
 the venom is distilled by a peculiar appara- 
 tus. If this bladder be gently pressed, the 
 venom will be seen issuing out through the 
 two holes above mentioned ; so that it ap- 
 pears, that when the animal stings, the blad- 
 der is pressed, and the venom issues through 
 the two apertures into the wound. 
 There are few animals more formidable, 
 or more truly mischievous than the scorpion. 
 As it takes refuge in a small place, and is 
 generally found sheltering in nouses, so it 
 cannot be otherwise than that it must fre- 
 quently sting those among whom it resides. 
 In some of the towns of Italy, and in France, 
 in the province of Languedoc, it is one of the 
 greatest pests that torment mankind : but its 
 malignity in Europe is trilling, when compared 
 to what the natives of Africa and the Kast are 
 known to experience. In I'atavia, where 
 they grow twelve inches long, there is no re- 
 moving any piece of furniture, without the 
 utmost danger of being stung by them. Bos- 
 man assures us, that, along the Gold Coast, 
 they are often found larger than a lobster; 
 and that (heir sling is inevitably fatal. In 
 Kurope, however, they are by no means so 
 large, so venomous, or so plentiful. The 
 general size of this animal does not exceed 
 t-.vo or three inches; and its sling is very sel- 
 dom found to be fatal. Matipertuis. who 
 made several experiments on the scorpion of 
 Languedoc, found it by no menus so inva- 
 riably dangerous MS had till then been repre- 
 sented. He provoked one of them to sting a 
 tlog, in three places of the belly, when- the 
 animal was without hair: in about an hour 
 after the poor animal seemed greatly swollen, 
 and became very sick ; he then east up what- 
 ever he had in his bowels; and for about 
 three hours continued vomiting a whitish 
 liquid. The belly was always greatly swollen, 
 when the animal began to vomit; but this 
 operation always seemed to abate the swell- 
 ing; which alternately swelled, and was thus 
 emptied, for three hours successively. The 
 poor animal, after this, fell into convulsions, 
 bit the ground, dragged himself along upon 
 
 his fore feet, and at last died, five hours after 
 being bitten. He was not partially swollen 
 round the place which was bitten, as is usual 
 after the sting of a wasp or a bee; but his 
 whole body was inflated, and there only ap- 
 peared a red spot on the places where he had 
 been stung. t 
 
 Some days after, however, the same ex- 
 periment was tried upon another dog, and 
 even with more aggravated cruelty; yet the 
 dog seemed no way alT'ected by the wounds, 
 but howling a little when he received them, 
 continued alert and well after them; and 
 soon after was set at liberty, without showing 
 the smallest symptoms of pain. So far was 
 this poor creature from being terrified at the 
 experiment, that he left his own master's 
 house, to come to that of the philosopher, 
 where he had received more plentiful enter- 
 tainment. The same experiment was tried 
 by fresh scorpions, upon seven other dogs, 
 and upon three hens; but not the smallest 
 deadly symptoms were seen to ensue. From, 
 hence it appears that many circumstances, 
 which are utterly unknown, must contribute 
 to give ellicacy to the scorpion's venom. 
 Whether its food, long fasting, the season, 
 the nature of the vessels it wounds, or its 
 slate of maturity, contribute to, or retard its 
 malignity. is yet to be ascertained by succeed- 
 ing experiments. In the trials made by our 
 philosopher, he employed scorpions of both 
 sexes, newly caught, and seemingly vigorous 
 and active. The success of this experiment 
 may serve to show, that many of those boast- 
 ed antidotes which are given for the cure of 
 the scorpion's sting, owe their success rather 
 to accident than their own efficacy. They 
 only happened to cure, when their sting \\a a 
 no way dangerous; but in cases of actual 
 malignity, they might probably be utterly un- 
 serviceable. 
 
 The scorpion of the tropical climates being 
 much larger than the former, is probably 
 much more venomous. Helbigius, however, 
 who resided for many years in the East, 
 assures us, that he was often stung by the 
 scorpion, and never received any material in- 
 jury from the wound : a painful tumour gene- 
 rally ensued : but he always cured it, by rub- 
 bing the part with a piece of iron or stone, 
 as he had seen the Indians practise before 
 
THE SCORPION KIND. 
 
 him, until the flesh became insensible. Seba, 
 Moore, and Bosnian, however, give a very 
 different account of the scorpion's malignity: 
 and assert that, unless speedily relieved, the 
 wound becomes fatal. 
 
 It is certain that no animal in the creation 
 seems endued with such an irascible nature. 
 1 have often seen them taken and put into a 
 plaee of security, exerting all their rage 
 against the sides of the glass vessel (hat con- 
 tained them. I have seen them attempt to 
 sting a stick, when put near them; and attack 
 a mouse or a frog, while those animals were 
 far from ottering any injury. Maupertnis put 
 three scorpions and a mouse into the same 
 vessel together, and they soon stung the little 
 animal in different places. The mouse, thus 
 assaulted, stood for some time upon the de- 
 fensive, and at last killed them all, one after 
 another. He tried this experiment, in order 
 to see whether the mouse, after it had killed, 
 would cat the scorpions; but the little quad- 
 ruped seemed entirely satisfied with the vic- 
 tory, and even survived the severity of the 
 wounds it had received : Wolkamer tried the 
 courage of the scorpion against the large spi- 
 der, and enclosed several of both kinds in 
 glass vessels for that purpose." The success 
 of this combat was very remarkable. The 
 spider at first used all its efforts to immesh 
 the scorpion in its web, which it immediately 
 began spinning; but the scorpion rescued it- 
 self from the danger, by stinging its adversary 
 to death; it soon after cut off', with its claus, 
 all the legs of the spider, and then sucked all 
 the internal parts at its leisure. If the scor- 
 pion's skin had not been so hard, Wolkamer 
 is of opinion that the spider would have ob- 
 tained the victory; for he had often seen one 
 of these spiders destroy a toad. 
 
 The fierce spirit of this animal is equally 
 dangerous to its own species ; for scorpions 
 are the crudest enemies to each other. 
 M inpertuis put about a hundred of them to- 
 gether in the same glass ; and they scarce 
 came into contact, when they began to exert 
 all their rage in mutual destruction: there 
 was nothing to be seen but one universal 
 carnage, without any distinction of age or 
 or sex ; so that in a few days there remained 
 
 (a) EphemcridesDec.il. 1687. Obgerv. 224. 
 
 only fourteen, which had killed and devoured 
 all the rest. 
 
 But their unnatural malignity is still more 
 apparent in their cruelty to their offspring, 
 lie enclosed a female scorpion, big with 
 young, in a glass vessel, and she was seen to 
 devour them as fast as they were excluded : 
 there was but one only of the number that 
 escaped the general destruction, bv taking 
 refuge on the back of its parent; and this 
 soon after revenged the cause of its brethren, 
 by killing the old one in its turn. 
 
 .Such is the terrible and unrelenting nature 
 of this insect, which neither the bonds of 
 society, nor of nature can reclaim : it is even 
 asserted tlmt, when driven to an extremitv, 
 the scorpion will often destroy itself. The 
 following experiment was ineffectual!? tried 
 by JManpertuis: but I am so well assured of 
 it by many eye-witnesses, who have seen it 
 both in Italy and America, that I have no 
 doubt remaining of its veracity. A scorpion, 
 newly caught, is placed in the midst of a 
 circle of burning charcoal, nnd thus an egress 
 prevented on every side: the scorpion. ;is I 
 am assured, runs for about a minute round 
 the circle, in hopes of escaping; but finding 
 that impossible, it stings itself on the back of 
 the head, and in this manner the undaunted 
 suicide instantly expires. 
 
 It is happy for mankind that these animals 
 are thus destructive to each other; since 
 otherwise they would multiply in so great a 
 degree as to render some countries uninha- 
 bitable. The male and female of this insect 
 are very easily distinguishable; the male be- 
 ing smaller and less hairy. The female brings 
 forth her young nlive, and perfect in their 
 kind. Rhedi having bought a quantity of 
 scorpions, selected the females, which by 
 their size and roughness were easily distin- 
 guishable from the rest, and putting them in 
 separate glass vessels, he kept them for some 
 days without food. In about five days one of 
 them brought forth thirty-eight young ones, 
 well shaped, and of a milk-white colour, which 
 changed every day more and more into a dark 
 rusty hue. Another female, in a different 
 vessel, brought forth twenty-seven of the same 
 colour: and the day following the young ones 
 seemed all fixed to the back and belly of the 
 female. For near a fortnight all these eon- 
 
762 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 tinued alive and well; but afterwards some 
 of them died daily: until, in about a month, 
 they all died except two. 
 
 Were it worth the trouble, these animals 
 might be kept living as long as curiosity 
 should think proper. Their chief food is 
 worms and insects ; and upon a proper sup* 
 ply of these, their lives might be lengthened 
 to their natural extent. How long that may 
 lj, we are not told ; bnt if we may argue 
 from analogy, it cannot be less than s-.'veu or 
 eight years; and perhaps, in the larger kind, 
 double that duration. As they have some- 
 what the form of the lobster, so they resemble 
 that animal in casting their shell, or more 
 properly their skin; since it is softer by far 
 than the covering of the lobster, and set with 
 hairs, which grow from it in great abundance, 
 particularly at the joinings. The young lie 
 :j the womb of the oarent, each covered up 
 
 in its own membrane, to the number of forty 
 or fifty, and united to each other by an ob- 
 long thread, so as to exhibit altogether the 
 form of a chaplel. 
 
 Such is the manner in which the common 
 scorpion produces its young; but there is a 
 scorpion of America, produced from the egg, 
 in the manner of the spider. The eggs ;ire 
 no larger than pin-points ; and they are de- 
 posited in a web, which they spin from their 
 bodies, and carry about with them, till they 
 are hatched. As soon as the young ones are 
 excluded from the shell, they get upon the 
 back of the parent, who turns her tail over 
 them, and defends them with her sting. It 
 seems probable, therefore, that captivity pro- 
 duces that unnatural disposition in the scor- 
 pion, which induces it to destroy its young; 
 since, at liberty, it is found to protect them 
 with such unceasing assiduity. 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXVI. 
 
 OF THE SCOLOPENDRA AND G ALLY-WORM. 
 
 OF these hideous and angry insects we 
 know little, except the figure and the noxious 
 qualities. Though with us there are insects 
 somewhat resembling them in form, we are 
 pi u-od at a happy distance from such as are 
 really formidable. With us they seldom 
 grow above an inch long; in the tropical 
 climates they are often found above a quarter 
 of a yard. 
 
 The Scolopendra is otherwise called the 
 Centipea, from the number of its feet; and it 
 is very common in many parts of the world, 
 especially between the tropics. Those of 
 the East Indies, where they grow to the lar- 
 gest size, are about six inches long, of a 
 rud.ly colour, and as thick as a man's finger: 
 they consist of many joints; and from each 
 joint is a leg o;i each side: they are cover- 
 ed with hair, and seem to have no eyes: but 
 there are two feelers on the head, which they 
 make use of to find out the way they are to 
 pass: the head is vory round, with two small 
 sharp teeth, with which they inflict wounds 
 
 that are very painful and dangerous. A sailor 
 j that was bit by one on board a ship, felt an 
 excessive pain, and his life was supposed to 
 be in danger : however, he recovered, by the 
 application ot three roasted onions to the part, 
 and was soon quite well. Ofthis animal there 
 are different kinds: some living, like worm*, 
 in holes in the earth: oth.'-rs und^r Clones 
 and among rotten wood : so that nothing is 
 more dangerous than removing those sub- 
 stances, in the places where they breed. 
 
 The G.dly-worm differs from the soo'o- 
 pendra, in having double the number of foot: 
 there being two on each side, to every joint 
 of the body. Some of these are smooth, and 
 others hairy : some ore yellow, some black, 
 and some brown. They are found among 
 decayed trees, between the wood and c 
 bark; as also among stones that are covered 
 with moss. They all, when touched, contract 
 themselves, rolling themselves up like a ball. 
 Whatever may be their qualities in the tropi- 
 cal parts of the world, in Europe they are 
 
THE LEECH KIND. 
 
 763 
 
 perfectly harmless ; baring been often hand- 
 led and irritated, without any vindictive con- 
 sequences. 
 
 All these, as well as the scorpion, are sup- 
 posed to be produced perfect from the pa- 
 rent, or the egg; and to undergo no changes, 
 after their first exclusion. They are seen of 
 
 all sizes ; and this is a sufficient inducement 
 to suppose, that they preserve their first ap- 
 pearance through the whole of their exist- 
 ence. It is probable, however, that like 
 most of this class, they often change their 
 skins ; but of this we have no certain infor- 
 mation. 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXV1I. 
 
 OF THE LEECH. 
 
 THE last of this wingless tribe that I shall 
 mention is the Leech, which, like all the for- 
 mer, undergoes no varieties of transformation; 
 but when once excluded from the body of 
 the parent, preserves its first figure to the end. 
 I place the history of the leech among the 
 first class of animals; while I have degraded 
 the Earth-worm, the Tasnia, and the Polypus, 
 into the class of Zoophytes, or that imperfect 
 tribe which serves to make the shade be- 
 tween animal and vegetable nature. Not 
 but that the earth-worm or the polypus have 
 their motions, their appetites, and their vital 
 principles, as complete as the leech, and, to 
 a cursory view, appear every way as com- 
 plete animals. But there is one circumstance 
 that lays the line between them ; that exalts 
 the one and degrades the other. The earth- 
 worm a;id the polypus may be cut in two 
 pieces, and each piece will produce a new 
 and perfect animal : the leech cannot suffer 
 this dissection, but dies when cut in t\vo; an 
 evident instance that it is possessed of a more 
 perfect organization than those animals which 
 it otherwise very much resembles. 
 
 The leech, from its uses in medicine, is one 
 of those insects that man has taken care to 
 provide; but of a great variety, one kind 
 only is considered as serviceable. The 
 horse-leech, which is the largest of all, and 
 grows to four inches in length, with a glossy. 
 black surface, is of no use, as it will not stick 
 to the skin; the snail-leech is but an inch in 
 length ; and though it will stick, is not large 
 enough to extract a sufficient quantity of 
 blood from the patient; the broad-tailed 
 
 NO. 63 66. 
 
 leech, which grows to an inch and a half in 
 length, with the back raised into a sort of 
 ridge, will stick but on very few occasions: 
 it is the large brown leech, with a whitish 
 belly, that is made use of in medicine, and 
 whose history best merits our curiosity. 
 
 The leech has the general figure of a worm, 
 and is about as long as one's middle finger. 
 Its skin is composed of rings, by means of 
 which it is possessed of its agility, and swims 
 in water. It contracts itself, when out of 
 water, in such a manner, that when touched 
 it is not above an inch long. It has a small 
 head, and a black skin, edged with a yellow 
 line on each side, with some yellowish spots 
 on the back. The belly ateo, which is of a 
 reddish colour, is marked with whitish yellow 
 spots. But the most remarkable part of this 
 animal is the mouth, which is composed of 
 two lips, that take whatever form the insect 
 finds convenient. When at rest, the opening 
 is usually triangular; and within it are placed 
 three very sharp teeth, capable of piercing 
 not only the human skin, but also that of a 
 horse or an ox. Still deeper in the head, is 
 discovered the tongue, which is composed of 
 a strong fleshy substance, and which serves 
 to assist the animal in sucking, when it has 
 inflicted its triple wound; for no sooner is 
 this voracious creature applied to the skin, 
 than it buries ifs teeth therein, then closes 
 its lips round the wound which it has made; 
 and thus, in the manner of a cupping-glass, 
 extracts the blood as it flows to the different 
 orifices. 
 
 In examining this animal's form farther to- 
 5O 
 
A HISTORY OF 
 
 wards the tail, it is seen to have a gullet and 
 an intestinal canal, into which the blood (lows 
 in great abundance. On each side of this are 
 seen running along several little bladders, 
 which, when the animal is empty, seem to be 
 filled with nothing but water; but when it is 
 goro-ing blood, they seem to communicate 
 with the intestines, and receive a large por- 
 tion of the blood which flows into the body. 
 If these bladders should be considered as so 
 many stomachs, then every leech will be 
 found to have twenty-four. But what is most 
 extraordinary of all in this animal's formation 
 is, that though it takes so large a quantity of 
 food, it has no anus or passage to eject it 
 from the body when it has been digested. 
 On the contrary, the blood which the leech 
 has thus sucked remains for several months 
 clotted within its body, blackened a liltle by 
 the change, but no way putrefied, and very 
 little altered in its texture or consistence. 
 In what manner it passes through the animal's 
 body, or how it contributes to its nourishment, 
 is not easily accounted for. The water in 
 which they are kept is very little discoloured 
 by their continuance ; they cannot be sup- 
 posed to return the blood by the same 
 passage through which it was taken in ; 
 it only remains, therefore, that it goes off 
 through the pores of the body, and that 
 these are sufficiently large to permit its ex- 
 clusion. 
 
 But it is not in this instance alone that the 
 leech differs from all other insects. It was 
 remarked in a former chapter, that the whole 
 insect tribe had the opening into their lungs 
 placed in their sides, and that they breathed 
 through those apertures as other animals 
 through the mouth. A drop of oil poured on 
 the sides of a wasp, a bee, or a worm, would 
 quickly suffocate them, by stopping up the 
 passages through which they breath ; but it 
 is otherwise with the leech, for this animal 
 may be immersed in oil without injury; nay, 
 it will live therein ; and the 'only damage it 
 will sustain is, that, when taken out, it will 
 be seen to cast a fine pellucid skin exactly 
 of the shape of the animal, after which it is 
 as alert and vigorous as before. It appears 
 fronrhence that the leech breaths through 
 the month: and. in fie , it has a motion thnt 
 i to reseuble the act of respiration in 
 
 more perfect animals: but concerning all this 
 we are very much in the dark. 
 
 This animal seems to differ from all others 
 in several respects: the rest of the reptile 
 tribe are brought forth from eggs; the leech 
 is viviparous, and produces its young one 
 after the other, to the number of forty or fifty 
 at a birth. It is probable that, like the snail, 
 each insect contains the two sexes, and that 
 it impregnates and is impregnated in the 
 same manner. The young ones are chiefly 
 found in the month of July, in shallow running 
 waters, and particularly where they are 
 tepified by the rays of the sun. The large 
 ones are chiefly sought after ; and being put 
 into a glass vessel filled with water, they re- 
 main for months, nay for years, without 
 taking any other subsistence. But they 
 never breed in this confinement; and, conse- 
 quently, what regards that part of their his- 
 tory still remains obscure. 
 
 In this part of the world they seldom grow 
 to above four inches ; but in America and 
 the East they are found from six to seven. 
 Their pools there abound with them in such 
 numbers, that it would be dangerous bathing 
 there, if for no other consideration. Our 
 sailors and soldiers, who the last war were 
 obliged to walk in those countries through 
 marshy grounds, talk with terror of the num- 
 ber of leeches that infested them on their 
 march. Even in some parts of Europe they 
 increase so as to be'come formidable. Sede- 
 lius, a German physician, relates, that a girl 
 of nine years old, who was keeping sheep 
 near the city of Bomst in Poland, percei\ing 
 a soldier making up to her, went to hide her- 
 self in a neighbouring marsh among some 
 bushes; but the number of leeches was so 
 great in that place, and they stuck to her so 
 close, that the poor creature expired from 
 the quantity of blood which she lost by their 
 united efforts. Nor is this much to be won- 
 dered at, since one of those insects that, 
 when empty, generally weighs but a scruple, 
 will, when gorged, weigh more than two 
 drachms. 
 
 When leeches are to be applied, the best 
 
 way is to take them from the water in which 
 
 they are contained about an hour before, for 
 
 : thr-y thus become more voracious and fasten 
 
 ij more readily. When saturated with blood, 
 
THE LEECH KIND. 
 
 765 
 
 they generally fall off of themselves ; but if 
 it be thought necessary to tnke them from the 
 wound, care should be used to pull them very 
 gently, or even to sprinkle them with salt if 
 they continue to adhere : for if they be pluck- 
 ed rudely away, it most frequently happens 
 tint they leave their teeth in the wound, which 
 makes a very troublesome inflammation, and 
 is often attended with danger. If they be.slow 
 in fixing to the part, they are often enticed by 
 
 rubbing it with milk or blood, or water mixed 
 with sugar. As salt is a poison to most in- 
 sects, many people throw it upon the leech 
 when it has dropped from the wound, by 
 which means it disgorges the blood it has 
 swallowed, and it is then kept for repeated 
 application. They seldom, however, stick after 
 this operation ; and as the price is but small, 
 fresh leeches should always be applied when- 
 ever such an application is thought necessarv. 
 
 5O 
 
rea 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 INSECTS OF T2E2J SECOND ORDER. 
 
 CHAPTER CJLXXVI11. 
 
 OF THE SECOND ORDER OF INSECTS. 
 
 IN the former part we gave a concise his- 
 tory of the most considerable insects that, 
 without wings, were produced in a perfect 
 state ; either from the body of the parent alive, 
 like quadrupeds, or from the egg, in the man- 
 ner of birds. We come now to a second or- 
 der of insects, that are produced from the egg, 
 like the former, but not in a perfect slate ; for 
 when first excluded, they are without wings. 
 This, however, does not hinder the exercise 
 of their animal functions ; the insect, although 
 not yet come to perfection, walks, leaps, and 
 eats ; nor is it ever deprived of motion, only 
 
 that it rests a little when it is about to cast 
 that part of its skin previous to its state of 
 perfection. It is then seen to assume two 
 wings, which, like a budding flower, burst 
 through the case that contained them, and ; he 
 animal becomes a winged insect in its state of 
 highest perfection. To this order we may re- 
 fer the Libella, or Dragon-Fly ; the Formica 
 Leo, or Lion- Ant; the Grasshopper ; the Lo- 
 cust ; the Cricket; the Wood-Cricket; the 
 Mole-Cricket ; the Flea-Locust; the Flying- 
 Bug; the Tipula ; the Water-Scorpion; the 
 Notonecta, or Water-Fly ; and many others. 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXIX. 
 
 OF THE LIBELLA, OR DRAGON-FLY. 
 
 OF all the flies which adorn or diversify 
 the face of nature, these arc the most various 
 and the most beautiful; they are of all colours; 
 green, blue, crimson, scarlet, white ; some 
 unite a variety of the most vivid tints, and ex- 
 liibir in one animal more different shades than 
 are to be found in the rainbow. They are 
 call-'d, in different parts of the kingdom, by 
 different names ; but none can be at a loss to 
 know them, as they are distinguished from all 
 other flies by the length of their bodies, by the 
 largeness of their eyes, and the beautiful trans- 
 parency of their wings, which are four in 
 number. Thev are seen in summer flvirig 
 \\ith grcit ranuiify near every hedge, and by 
 
 every running brook ; they sometimes settle on 
 the leaves of plants, and sometimes keep for 
 hours together on the wing. 
 
 Dragon-flies, though there are three or four 
 different kinds, yet agree in the most striking 
 parts of their history, and one account may 
 serve for all. The largest sort are generally 
 found from two to three inches long: their 
 tail is forked ; their body divided into eleven 
 rings ; their eyes are large, horny, and trans- 
 parent, divided by a number of intersections; 
 and their wings, that always lie flat when 
 they are at rest, are of a beautiful glossy trans- 
 parency ; sometimes shiuninu. like silver, and 
 sometimes glistening like gold. Within the 
 
THE DRAGON-FLY. 
 
 767 
 
 mouth are to be seen two teeth covered with 
 a beautiful li|> ; with iiiese the creatures bite 
 fiercely when they an; take:i : but their bite is 
 perfectly harmless, as I have experienced more 
 than once. 
 
 These insects, beautiful as they are, are pro- 
 duced fro n eggs, which are deposited in the 
 water, where (hey remain for some time with- 
 out see ning life or motion. They are (jeered 
 by the female into the water in clusters, like a 
 bunc.i of grapes, where they sink to the hot- 
 to u by their natural weight, and continue in 
 that state till the young ones find strength 
 enough to break the shell, and to separate 
 from each other. The form in which they 
 first show life, is that of a worm with six legs, 
 bearing a strong resemblance to the dragon-fly 
 in its winged state, except that the wings are 
 yet concealed within a sheath peculiar to this 
 animal. The rudiments of these appear in 
 bunches on the back, within which the wings 
 are folded up into each other, while all the 
 colours and varieties of painting appear trans- 
 parent through the skin. These ani.nals, 
 upon quitting the egg, still continue in the 
 water, where they creep and swim, but do not 
 move swiftly. They have likewise a sharp 
 sight, and immediately sink to the bottom, if 
 any one comes to the places wherein they live, 
 or whenever they perceive the least uncom- 
 mon object. Their food at that time is soft 
 mud and the glutinous earthy substances that 
 arc found at the bottom. 
 
 When these animals prepare to change from 
 their reptile to their flying state, they then 
 move out of the water to a dry place ; as into 
 grass ; to pieces of wood, stone, or any thing 
 else they meet with. They there firmly (ix 
 their acute claws ; and, for a short time, con- 
 tinue quite immoveahle, as if meditating <>u 
 the cha.ige thev are to undergo. It is then 
 observed, that the skin first opens on the head 
 an I back; anil out of this opening they ex- 
 hibit their real head and eyes, and at lengih 
 th ir six legs; whilst, in the mean time, the 
 hollow and empty skin, or slough of their lc;j.s, 
 re nains firmly fixed in its place. After this, 
 the enclosed cr-'ature creeps forward by de- 
 grees ; and by this means draws first its wings 
 
 fa} Diirina; the pruh-stale of tins animal, it preys with 
 the mo-it <:iv;ic;i- frrorj'v on ;iil aqua'ir insects. It is, 
 likew ise, at this }x;riod, furnished with, an apparatus at the 
 
 and then its body out of the skin ; and pro- 
 ceeding a little farther, sits at rest for some 
 time, as if immoveable. During this time, the 
 wings, which were moist and folded, begin by 
 degrees to expand themselves, and to make 
 smooth and even all those plaits which were 
 laid against each other, like a closed fan. 
 The body is likewise insensibly ext nded, 
 until all the limbs have obtained (heir proper 
 size and dimensions. All these surprising and 
 difficult operations are accomplished by the 
 force of the blood and the circulating i>umours. 
 The creature cannot at first make use of its 
 new wings, and therefore is forced to stay in 
 the same place until all its limbs are dried by 
 the circumambient air. It soon, however, 
 begins to enter upon a more noble life than it 
 had hitherto led in the bottom of the brook ; 
 and from creeping slowly and living acciden- 
 tally, it now wings the air, and makes 
 choice from amidst the variety of its provi- 
 sions." 
 
 Indeed, no animal is more amply fitted for 
 motion, subsistence, and enjoyment. As it 
 haunts and seeks after its food flying in the 
 air, nature has provided it with two large 
 e\ es, which make almost the whole head, and 
 which resemble glittering mother-of-pearl. 
 It has also four expansive silver-coloured 
 wings, with which, as with oars, it can turn 
 itself with prodigious velocity ; and to assist 
 these, it is furnished with a very long body, 
 which, like a rudder, directs its motions. As 
 the wings are long, and the legs short, they 
 seldom walk, but are ever seen either resting 
 or flying. For this reason, they always choose 
 dry branches of trees or shrubs to remain on ; 
 and u hen they have refreshed themselves a 
 little, they renew their flight. Thus they are 
 seen adorning the summer with a profusion 
 of hf-auty, lightly traversing the air in a thou- 
 sand directions, and expanding the most beau- 
 tiful colours to the sun. The garden, the 
 forest, the hedges, and the rivulets, are ani- 
 ni.ited hv tluir sports; and there are few who 
 IMXV bren brought up in the country, v ho 
 have not ei!?|>i;>)ed a part of their childhood 
 in (he pnrsiiit. 
 
 But while these beautiful flies appear to us 
 
 end of the body, by which it can suck up and eject water 
 with considerable force. 
 
7G8 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 so idly and innocently employed, they are in 
 fact tue greatest tyrants of the insect tribe; 
 and, like the hawk among birds, are only 
 hovering up and down to seize their prey. 
 They are the strongest and the most courage- 
 ous of all winged insects ; nor is there one, 
 how large soever, that they will not attack and 
 devour. The bine-fly, the bee, the wasp, and 
 the hornet, make their constant prey ; and 
 even the butterfly, that spreads so large a wing, 
 is often caught and treated without mercy. 
 Their appetite seems to know no bounds ; 
 they spend the whole day in the pursuit, and 
 have been seen to devour three times their 
 own size in the capture of a single hour. 
 They seize their prey flying with their six 
 claws, and tear it easily to pieces with their 
 teeth, which are capable of inflicting trouble- 
 some wounds. 
 
 But the males are upon the wing for 
 another purpose beside that of food, as they 
 are very salacious, and seek the females with 
 great ardour. The sun no sooner begins to 
 warm the fields, than the males are found 
 assiduously employed each in seeking its mate; 
 and no sooner does a female appear, but two 
 or three males are seen pursuing, and endea- 
 vouring to seize her with all their arts and 
 agility. The instrument of generation in the 
 male is placed very different from that of any 
 other insect, being not at the end of the nil, 
 as in others, but immediately under the breast, 
 and consequently, at first view, incapable of 
 
 being united to the sexual part of the female ; 
 which, as in other insects, lies in the tail. To 
 perform this junction, nature has provided the 
 male with a very peculiar manner of proceed- 
 ing. As soon as he perceives the female, and 
 finds himself sufficiently near, he seizes upon 
 the back of her head by surprise, and fastening 
 his claws upon her, turns round his forky tail, 
 which he fastens round her neck, and in this 
 manner fixes himself so closely and firmly, 
 that no efforts can remove him. It is in vain 
 that she flies from one branch to another, and 
 settles upon them, he still keeps fixed, and 
 often continues in this situation for three or 
 four hours successively. When he flies, she 
 is obliged to fly with him ; but he still directs 
 the way : and though she moves her wings, 
 she seems entirely guided by his motion. As 
 yet, however, the business of impregnation is 
 not performed ; for to this the female must 
 contribute ; and she at last seems, by the con- 
 tinuance of her constraint, to comply : for, 
 turning up the end of her tail to that part of 
 the breast of the male in which lies the part 
 proper for generation, both instruments meet, 
 and the eggs of the female receive the 
 necessary fecundation. An hour or two 
 after this, she flics to some neighbouring 
 pool, where she deposites her eggs, as was 
 already mentioned. There they continue 
 in a reptile state for a year ; and then are 
 changed into a beautiful fly, resembling the 
 parent. 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXX. 
 
 OF THE FORMICA LEO, OR LION- ANT. 
 
 ALTHOUGH this animal properly belongs 
 to no order of insects, yet as it is changed into 
 a fly very much resembling that described in 
 the preceding chapter, it may not be improper 
 to give its history here. If' we consider the 
 life of this animal, in its different stages of ex- 
 istence, we shall find it equally wonderful in 
 all ; but as it changes to a dragon-fly, what 
 we have said of that animal above, need not 
 be repeated here. The lion-ant, when it be- 
 comes an inhabitant of air, in every respect 
 
 resembles that which has been already de- 
 scribed ; its glossy wings, its voracious appe- 
 tites, its peculiar manner of generation, are 
 entirely the same. It is in its reptile state 
 that it differs from all other insects ; and in 
 that state it will be amusing to pursue its his- 
 tory. 
 
 The lion-ant, in its reptile state, is of the 
 size of a common wood-louse, but somewhat 
 broader. It has a pretty long head, and a 
 roundish body, which becomes a little nar- 
 
THE LION-ANT. 
 
 769 
 
 roxver towards the tail. The colour is a dirty 
 gray, speckled with black, and the body is 
 composed of several flat rings, which slip one 
 upon another. It has six feet, four of which 
 are fixed to the bre st, and two to the neck. 
 The head is small and flat, and before there 
 are two iiule smooth horns or feelers, which 
 are hard, about a quarter of an inch long, and 
 crooked at the ends. At the b.isis of the 
 'feelers there are two small black lively eyes, 
 by which it can see the smallest object, as is 
 easily discovered by its starting from every 
 thing that approaches. 
 
 To a form so unpromising, and so ill provid- 
 ed for the purposes of rapacity, this animal 
 unites the most ravenous appetites in nature ; 
 but to mark its imbecility still stronger, as 
 oilier ani nals have wings or feet to enable 
 them to advance towards their prey, the lion- 
 ant is unprovided with such assistance from 
 either. It has legs, indeed; but these only 
 enable it to run backward, so that it could as 
 soon die as make the smallest progressive mo- 
 tion. Thus famished and rapacious as it ever 
 seems, its prey must come to it, or rat er into 
 the snare provided for it, or the insidious 
 assassin must starve. 
 
 But nature, that IMS di-nied it strength or 
 swiftness, has given it an equivalent in cun- 
 ning, so that no ani nal fares more sumptuous- 
 ly, without ever stirring from its retreat. For 
 this purpose, it chooses a dry sandy place at 
 th" foot of a wall, or under some shelter, in 
 order to preserve its maelii nations from the 
 rain. The driest and nost sandy spot is the 
 most proper for it ; because a heavy clogged 
 earth would defeat its labour. When it goes 
 about to dig the hole vhcre it takes its prey, 
 it begins to bend the hinder part of its body, 
 which is pointed, and thus works backward ; 
 making, after several atte npts, a circular fur- 
 row, wiiich serves to mark out the size of the 
 hole it intends making, as the ancients marked 
 our the limits of a city with a plough. Within 
 this first furrow it digs a second, then a third, 
 a;i I aft Twar Is others, which are always less 
 than the preceding. Then it begins to deepen 
 its hole, sinking lower and lower into the 
 sa^id, which it throws with its horns or feelers 
 towards the edges, as we see men throw up 
 sand in a gravel-pir. Thus, by repeating its 
 lab Kirs all round, the sand is thrown up in a 
 circle about the edge of the pit, until the 
 
 whole is quite completed. This hole is always 
 formed in a perfect circle ; and the pit itself 
 resembles the inside of an inverted funnel. 
 When this insect first leaves the egg and is 
 newly hatched, the first pit it makes is very 
 small ; but as it gro,ws bigger, it makes a 
 larger hole ; which Is destined, like a pit-fall, 
 to entrap its prey. It is generally about two 
 inches deep, and as much in diameter. 
 
 The work being tiius, with great labour, 
 finished, the insidious insect places itself in 
 ambush, hiding itself in the bottom under the 
 sand, in such a manner, that its two horns 
 encircle the bottom of the pit. All the sides 
 of this pit-fall are made of the most loose and 
 crumbling materials; so that scarcely any 
 insect can climb up that has once got down 
 to the bottom. Conscious of this, the lion-ant 
 remains in patient expectation, ready to profit 
 by that accident which throws some heedless 
 little animal into its den. If then, by misfor- 
 tune, an ant, a wood-louse, or a small caterpil- 
 lar, walks too near the edge of the precipice, 
 the sand gives way beneath them, and they 
 fall to the bottom of the pit, where they meet 
 inevitable destruction. The fall of a single 
 grain of sand gives the murderer notice at the 
 bottom of its cave ; and it never fails to sally 
 forth to seize upon its prey. It happens some- 
 times, however, that the ant or the wood-louse 
 is too nimbi'*, and runs up the sides of the pit- 
 fall before the other can make ready to seize 
 it. Fhe lion-ant has then another contrivance, 
 still more wonderful than the former ; for, by 
 means of its broad head and feelers, it has a 
 method of throwing up a shower of sand, 
 which fills upon the struggling captive with 
 tremendous weight, and once more crushes it 
 down to the bottom. When the insect is once 
 fallen thus low, no efforts can retrieve or re- 
 lease it ; the lion-ant seizes it with its feelers, 
 which are hollow, and darting them both info 
 its body, sucks out all the little animal's juices 
 with the utmost rapacity. 
 
 Whm the prr-y is thus reduced to a husk, 
 and nothing but the external form remains, 
 the next care of the murderer is to remove the 
 body from its cell; since the appearance of 
 dead carcasses might forewarn other insects 
 of the danger of the place. The insect, there- 
 fore, takes up the wasted trunk with its feelers, 
 and throws it, with wonderful strength, at 
 least six laches from the edge of its hole ; and 
 
770 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 then patiently sets about mending the breaches 
 which its fortifications had received in the last 
 engagement. Nothing can abate its industry, 
 its vigilance, its patience, or its rapacity. It 
 will work for a week together to make its pit- 
 fall ; it will continue upon the watch for more 
 than a month, patiently expecting the ap- 
 proach of its prey ; and if it comes in greater 
 quantities than is needful, yet still the little 
 voracious creature will quit the insect it has 
 newly killed, and leave it half eaten, to kill 
 and attack any other that happens to fall 
 within the sphere of its malignity : though so 
 voracious, it is surprisingly patient of hunger ; 
 some of them having been kept in a box with 
 sand, for six months and upwards, without 
 feeding at all. 
 
 When the lion-ant attains a certain age, in 
 which it is to change into another form, it 
 then leaves off its usual rapacious habits, but 
 keeps on its industry. It no longer continues 
 to make pits, but furrows up the sand all 
 round in an irregular nanner; testifying those 
 workings and violent agitations which most 
 insects exhibit previous to their transformation. 
 These animals are produced in autumn, and 
 generally live a year, and perhaps two, before 
 they assume a winged form. Certain it is, 
 that they are found at the end of winter of all 
 sizes ; and it would seem that many of the 
 smaller kinds had not yet attained sufficient 
 maturity for transformation. Be this as it 
 may, when the time of change approaches, if 
 the insect finds its little cell convenient, it 
 seeks no other ; if it is obliged to remove, 
 after furrowing up the sand, it hides itself un- 
 der it, horns and all. It there spins a thread, 
 in the manner of the spider ; which being 
 made of a glutinous substance, and being 
 humid from the moisture of its body, sticks to 
 the little particles of sand among which it is 
 spun ; and in proportion as it is thus excluded, 
 the insect rolls up its web, sand and all, into a 
 ball, of which itself is the centre. This ball 
 is about half an inch in diameter ; and within 
 
 it the insect resides, in an apartment sufficient- 
 ly spacious for all its motions. The out.side 
 is composed of sand and silk; the inside is 
 lined with silk only, of a fine pearl-colour, ex- 
 tremely delicate, and perfectly beautiful. But 
 though the work is so curious within, it ex- 
 hibits nothing to external appearance but a 
 lump of sand ; and thus escapes the search of 
 birds, that might otherwise disturb the inhabi- 
 tant within. 
 
 The insect continues thus shut up for six 
 weeks or two months ; and gradually parts 
 with its eyes, its feelers, its feet, and its skin ; 
 all which are thrust into a corner of the inner 
 apartment, like a rag. The insect then ap- 
 pears almost in its winged state, except that 
 there is a thin skin which wraps up the wings, 
 and that appears to be nothing else but a 
 liquor dried on their outside. Still, however, 
 the little animal is too delicate and tender to 
 venture from its retreat; but continues en- 
 closed for some time longer : at length, when 
 the members of this new insect have acquired 
 the necessary consistence and vigour, it tears 
 open its lodging, and breaks through its wall. 
 For this purpose it has two teeth, like those of 
 grasshoppers, with which it eats through, and 
 enlarges the opening, till it gets out. Its body, 
 which is turned like a screw, takes up no 
 more than the space of a quarter of an inch ; 
 but when it is unfolded, it becomes half an 
 inch in length ; while its wings, that seemed 
 to occupy the smallest space, in two minutes' 
 time unfold, and become longer than the body. 
 In short, it becomes a large and beautiful fly, 
 of the libellula kind, with a long slender body, 
 of a brown colour ; a small head, with large 
 bright eyt'S, long slender legs, and four large 
 transparent reticulated wings. The rest of its 
 habits resemble that insect whose form it 
 bears ; except, that instead of dropping its eggs 
 in the water, it deposites them in sand, where 
 they are soon hatched into that rapacious in- 
 sect so justly admired for its method of catch- 
 ing its prey. 
 
THE GRASSHOPPER KIND 
 
 771 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXXI. 
 
 OF THE GRASSHOPPER, THE LOCUST, THE CICADA, THE CRICKET, AND 
 
 THE MOLE-CRICKET. 
 
 BELONGING to the second order of in- 
 sects, we find a tribe of little animals, which, 
 though differing in size and colour, strongly 
 resemble each other in figure, appetites, na- 
 ture, and transformation. But though they 
 all appear of one family, yet man has been 
 taught to hold them in different estimation; 
 for while some of this tribe amuse him with 
 their chirpings, and banish solitude from the 
 fieMs, others come in swarms, eat up every 
 thing that is green, and in a single night con- 
 vert the most delightful landscape into a 
 dreary watte. However, if these animals be 
 separately considered, the devouring locust 
 is not in the least more mischievous than the 
 musical grasshopper; the only difference is, 
 that one species comes for food in a swarm, 
 the other i'eeds singly. 
 
 That animal which is called the grasshop- 
 per with us, differs greatly from the cicada 
 of antiquity; for as our insect is active enough 
 in hopping through the long grass, from 
 whence it has taken its name, the cicada had 
 not this power, but either walked or flew. 
 The little hissing note also of our grasshop- 
 per is very different from the song of the 
 cicada, which was louder, and far more mu- 
 sical. The manner in which this note is pro- 
 duced by the two animals is very different; 
 for the cicada makes it by a kind of buckler, 
 which the male has beneath its belly ; the 
 grasshopper by a transparent membrane that 
 covers a hole at the base of its wings. There 
 is still a greater variety in all these with re- 
 gard to shape and colour. Some are green, 
 some black, some livid, and some variegated; 
 but many of themdonot show all their colours 
 till they fly. Some have long legs, some 
 short, some with more joints, others with 
 fewer. Some sing, others are mute: some 
 are innocent, doing no damage to the hus- 
 bandman; while others do such prodigious 
 mischief, thai they are looked upon in some 
 
 Jfo. 65 & GT>. 
 
 countries as one of the terrible scourges of 
 the incensed Divinity. 
 
 Of this variegated tribe, the little grasshop- 
 per that breeds in such plenty in every mea- 
 dow, and that continues its chirping through 
 the summer, is best known to us ; and by 
 having its history, we shall be possessed of 
 that of all the rest. This animal is of the 
 colour of green leaves, except a line of brown 
 which streaks the back, and two pale lines 
 under the belly and behind the legs. It may 
 be divided into the head, the corselet, and 
 the belly. The head is oblong, regarding 
 the earth, and bearing some resemblance to 
 that of a horse. Its mouth is covered by a 
 kind of round buckler jutting over it, and 
 armed with teeth of a brown colour, hooked 
 at the points. Within the mouth is perceiv- 
 able a large reddish tongue, and fixed to the 
 lower jaw. The feelers or horns are very 
 long, tapering off" to a point ; and the eyes 
 are like two black specks, a little prominent. 
 -Sfhe corselet is elevated, narrow, armed 
 above and below by two serrated spines. 
 The back is armed with a strong buckler, to 
 which the muscles of the legs are firmly bound, 
 and round these muscles are seen the vessels 
 by which the animal breaths, as white as 
 snow. The last pair of legs are much longer 
 and stronger than the first twe-pair, fortified 
 by thick muscles, and very well formed for 
 leaping. It has four wings ; the anterior ones 
 springing from the second pair of legs, the 
 posterior from the third pair. The hinder 
 wings are much finer and more expansive 
 than the foremost, and are the principal in- 
 struments of its flight. The belly is con- 
 siderably large, composed of eight rings, and 
 terminated by a forky tail, covered with 
 down, like the tail of a rat. When examined 
 internally, besides the gullet, we discover a 
 small stomach; and behind that a very large 
 one, wrinkled and furrowed within side : 
 5P 
 
772 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 lower down there is still a third ; so that it is 
 not without reason that all the animals of 
 tliis order are said to chew the end, as they 
 so much resemble ruminant animals in their 
 internal conformation. 
 
 A short time after the grasshopper assumes 
 its wings, it tills the meadow with its note; 
 which, like that among birds, is a call to 
 courtship. The male only of this tribe is 
 vocal; and, upon examining at the base of 
 the wings, there will be found a little hole in 
 its body, covered with a fine transparent 
 membrane. This is thought, by Linnreus, to 
 be the instrument it employs in singing: but 
 others are of opinion the sound is produced 
 by rubbing its hinder legs against each other: 
 however this be, the note of one male is sel- 
 dom heard, but it is returned by another; 
 and the two little animals, after many mutual 
 insults of this kind, are seen to meet and fight 
 desperately. The female is generally the 
 reward of victory ; for, after the combat, the 
 male seizes her with his teeth behind the 
 neck, and thus keeps her for several hoars 
 till the business of fecundation is performed. 
 They are at that time so strongly united, that 
 they can scarcely be separated without tear- 
 ing asunder. Towards the latter end of 
 autumn the female prepares to deposite her 
 burden ; and her body is then seen greatly 
 distended with her eggs, which she carries to 
 the number of an hundred and filly. In order 
 to make a proper lodgment in the earth for 
 them, nature has furnished her with an instru- 
 ment at her tail, somewhat resembling a two- 
 edged sword, which she can sheath and un- 
 sheath at pleasure : with this she pierces 
 the earth as deep as she is able ; and into 
 the hole which her instrument has made, she 
 deposites her eggs, one after the other. 
 
 Having thus provided for the continuation 
 of her posterity, the animal herself does not 
 long survive; but as the winter approaches, 
 she dries up, seems to feel the effects of age, 
 and dies from a total decay. Some, however, 
 assert, that she is killed by the cold ; and 
 others, that she is eaten by worms : but cer- 
 tain it is, that neither the male nor female 
 are ever seen to survive the winter. In the 
 mean time, the eggs which have been de- 
 posited continue unaltered, either by the 
 severity of the season or the retardation of 
 
 the spring. They are of an oval figure, 
 white, and of the consistence of horn : their 
 size nearly equals that of a grain of anise: 
 they are enveloped in the body within a 
 covering, branched all over with veins and 
 arteries; and when excluded they crack, on 
 being pressed between the fingers ; their 
 substance within is a whitish, viscous, and 
 transparent fluid. In this manner they re- 
 main deposited beneath the surface of the 
 earth, during the whole winter; till the genial 
 return of spring begins to vivify and hatch 
 them. The sun, with its warmth, beginning 
 to animate all nature, the insect eggs feel 
 its benign influence ; .and, generally, about 
 the beginning of May, every egg produces an 
 insect, about the size of a flea. These, at 
 first, are of a whitish colour; at the end of 
 two or three days they turn black; and 
 soon after they become of a reddish brown.. 
 They appear, from the beginning, like grass- 
 hoppers, wanting wings ; and hop among the 
 grass, as soon as excluded, with great agility. 
 Yet still they are by no means arrived at 
 their state of full perfection; although they 
 bear a strong resemblance to the animal in 
 its perfect form. They want, or seem to want,, 
 the wings, which they are at last seen to as- 
 sume; and can only hop among the grass, 
 without being able to fly. The wings, how- 
 ever, are not wanting, but are concealed 
 within four little bunches, that seem to deform 
 the sides of the animal : there they lie rolled 
 up in a most curious manner; and occupying 
 a smaller space than one could conceive who 
 saw them extended. Indeed, all insects, 
 whatever transmutations they seem to undergo^ 
 are yet brought forth with those very limbs, 
 parts, and wings, which they afterwards seem 
 to acquire. In the most helpless caterpillar, 
 there is still to be seen the rudiments of that 
 beautiful plumage which it afterwards ex- 
 pands when a butterfly : and though many 
 new parts seem unfolded to the view, the ani- 
 mal acquires none but such as it was from 
 the beginning possessed of. The grasshop- 
 per, therefore, though seemingly without 
 wings, is, in reality, from the first, possessed 
 of those instruments, and only waits for suf- 
 ficient force to break the bonds that hold 
 them folded up, and to give them their full 
 expansion. 
 
THE GRASSHOPPER KIND. 
 
 773 
 
 The grasshopper, that for above twenty 
 days from its exclusion has continued with- 
 out the use of its wings, which were folded 
 up to its body, at length prepares for its 
 emancipation, and for a life of greater liberty 
 and pleasure. To make the proper disposi- 
 tions for the approaching change, it ceases 
 from its grassy food, and seeks about for a 
 convenient place, beneath some thorn or 
 thistle, that may protect it from an acciden- 
 tal shower. The same laborious writhings 
 and workings, heavings and palpitations, 
 which we have remarked in every other in- 
 sect upon an approaching change, are ex- 
 hibited in this. It swells up its head and 
 neck; it then seems to draw them in again; 
 and thus alternately, for some time, it exerts 
 its powers to get free. At length, the skin 
 covering the head and breast is seen dividing 
 above the neck ; the head is seen issuing out 
 first from the bursting skin; the efforts still 
 continuing, the other parts follow successive- 
 ly; so that the little animal, with its long 
 feelers, legs and all, works its way from the 
 old skin, that remains fixed to the ihisile or 
 the thorn. It is, indeed, inconceivable how 
 the insect can thus extricate itself from so 
 exact a sheath as that which covereth every 
 part of its body. 
 
 The grasshopper, thus disengaged from its 
 outer skin, appears in its perfect form ; but 
 then so feeble, and its body so soft and ten- 
 der, that it may be moulded like wax. It is 
 no longer of that obscure colour which it ex- 
 hibited before, but of greenish white, which 
 becomes more vivid as the moisture on the 
 surface is dried away. Still, however, the 
 animal continues to show no signs of life, but 
 appears quite spent and fatigued with its 
 labour for more than an hour together. 
 During this time, the body is drying, and the 
 wings unfolding to their greatest expansion; 
 and the curious observer will perceive them, 
 fold after fold, opening to the sun, till at last 
 they become longer than the two hinder legs. 
 The insect's body also is lengthened during 
 this operation, and it becomes much more 
 beautiful than before. 
 
 These insects are generally vocal in the 
 midst of summer, and they are heard at sun- 
 setting much louder than during the heats of 
 the day They are fed upon grass ; and, if 
 
 their belly be pressed, they will be seen to 
 return the juices of the plants they have last 
 fed upon. Though unwilling to fly, and slow 
 in flight, particularly when the weather is 
 moist or cool, they are some'times seen to fly 
 to considerable distances. If they are caught 
 by one of the hinder legs, they quickly disen- 
 gage themselves from it, and leave the leg 
 behind them. This, however, does not grow 
 again, as with crabs or spiders ; for as they 
 are animals but of a single year's continuance, 
 they have not sufficient time for repairing 
 those accidental misfortunes. The loss of 
 their leg also prevents them from flying; for 
 being unable to lift themselves in the air, 
 they have not room upon the ground for the 
 proper expansion of their wings. If they be 
 handled roughly, they will bite very fiercely; 
 and when they fly, they make a noise with 
 their wings. They generally keep in the 
 plain, where the grass is luxuriant, and the 
 ground rich and fertile : there they deposite 
 their eggs, particularly in those cracks which 
 are formed by the heat of the sun. 
 
 Such arc the habits and nature of those 
 little vocal insects, that swarm in our mea- 
 dows, and enliven the landscape. The lar- 
 ger kinds only differ from them in size, in 
 rapidity of flight, and the powers of injuring 
 mankind, by swarming upon the productions 
 of the earth. The quantity of grass which a 
 few grasshoppers that sport in the fields can 
 destroy is trifling ; but when a swarm of lo- 
 custs, two or three miles long, and several 
 yards deep, settle upon a field, the conse- 
 quences are frightful. The annals of every 
 country are marked with the devastation 
 which such a multitude of insects produces; 
 and though they seldom visit Europe in such 
 dangerous swarms as formerly, yet, iti some 
 of the southern kingdoms, they are still for- 
 midable. Those which have at uncertain in- 
 tervals visited Europe, in our memory, are 
 supposed to have come from Africa, and the 
 animal is called the Great Brown Locust. 
 It was seen in several parts of England in the 
 year 1748, and many dreadful consequences 
 were apprehended from its appearance. 
 This insect is about three inches long; and 
 has two horns or feelers, an inch in length. 
 The head and horns are of a brownish colour; 
 it is blue about the mouth, as also on the in- 
 
 5P 
 
774 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 side of the larger legs. The shield that 
 covers the back is greenish; and the upper 
 side of the body brown, spotted with black, 
 and the under side purple. The upper wings 
 arc brown, with s;n:tll dusky spots, with one 
 larger at the tips; the under wings are more 
 transparent, and of a light brown, tinctured 
 witii green, but there is a dark cloud oi spots 
 near the tips. This is that insect that lias 
 threatened us so often with its visitations ; 
 and that is so truly terrible in the countries 
 where it is bred. There is no animal in the 
 creation that multiplies so fast as -these, if the 
 sun be warm, and the soil in which their eggs 
 are deposited be dry. Happily for us, the 
 coldness of our climate, and the humidity of 
 our soil, are no way favourable to their pro- 
 duction ; and as they are but the animals of 
 a year, they visit us and perish. 
 
 The Scripture, which was written in a 
 country where the locust made a distinguish- 
 ed feature in the picture of nature, has given 
 us several very striking images of this animal's j 
 numbers and rapacity. It compares an army, 
 where the numbers are almost infinite, to a 
 swarm of locusts: it describes them as rising 
 out of the earth, where they are produced ; 
 as pursuing a settled march to destroy the 
 fruits of the earth, and co-operate with Divine 
 indignation. 
 
 When the locusts take the field, as we are 
 assured, they have a leader at their head, 
 whose flight they observe, and pay a strict 
 attention to all his motions. They appear, 
 at a distance, like a black cloud, which, as 
 it approaches, gathers upon the horizon, and 
 almost hides the light of the day. It often 
 happens that the husbandman sees this im- 
 minent calamity pass away without doing 
 him any mischief; and the whole swarm pro- 
 ceed onward, to settle upon the labours of 
 some less fortunate country. But wretched 
 is the district upon which they settle : they 
 ravage the meadow and the pasture ground ; 
 strip the trees of their leaves, and the gar- 
 den of its beauty: the visitation of a tew 
 minutes destroys the expectations of a year; 
 and a famine but too frequently ensues. In 
 their native tropical climates they are not so 
 dreadful as iti the more southern parts of 
 Europe. There, though the plain and the 
 forest be stripped of their verdure, the power 
 
 of vegetation is so great, that an interval of 
 three or four days repairs the calamity : but 
 our verdure is the livery of a season; and we 
 must wait till the ensuing spring repairs (he 
 damage. Besides, in their long flights to this 
 part of the world, they are famished by the 
 tediousness of their journey, and are there- 
 lore more voracious wherever they happen 
 to settle. But it is not by what they devour 
 that they do so much damage, as by what 
 they destroy. Their very bite is thought to 
 contaminate the plant, and to prevent its 
 vegetation. To use the expression of the 
 husbandman, they burn whatever they touch, 
 and leave the marks of their devastation for 
 two or three years ensuing. But if they be 
 noxious while living, they are still more so 
 when dead; for wherever they fall, they in- 
 fect the air in such a manner, that the smell 
 is insupportable.. Orosius tells us, that in 
 the year of the world 3800, there was an in- 
 credible number of locusts which infected 
 Africa; and, after having eaten up every 
 thing that was green, they flew ofi, and were 
 drowned in the African sea; where they 
 caused such a stench, that the putrefying 
 bodies of hundreds of thousands of men could 
 not equal it. 
 
 In the year 1690, a cloud of locusts was 
 seen to enter Russia in three different places; 
 and from thence to spread themselves over 
 Poland and Lithuania, in such astonishing 
 multitudes, that the air was darkened, and 
 the earth covered with their numbers. In 
 some places they were seen lying dead, heap- 
 ed upon each other four feet deep: in others, 
 they covered the surface like a black cloth: 
 the trees bent beneath their weight ; and 
 the damage which the country sustained ex- 
 ceeded computation. In Barbary their num- 
 bers are formidable, and their visits are fre- 
 quent. In the year 1724, Dr. Shaw was a 
 witness in that country of their devastations. 
 Their first appearance was about the latter 
 end of March, when the wind had been 
 southerly for some time. In the beginning of 
 April, their numberswere so vastly increased, 
 that in the heat of the day they formed them- 
 selves into large swarms, which appeared 
 likt' clouds, and darkened the sun. In the 
 middle of May they began to disappear, re- 
 tiring into the plains to deposite their eggs. 
 
THE GRASSHOPPER KIND. 
 
 775 
 
 In the next month, being June, the young 
 brood began to make their appearance, form- 
 in^ tii;iny compact bodies of several hundred 
 y.trds square ; which afterwards marching 
 for xard, climbed the trees, walls, and houses, 
 eating every tiling that was green in their way. 
 The inhabitants, "to stop their progress, laid 
 trenches all over their fields and gardens, 
 filling them witli water. Some placed large- 
 quantities of heath, stubble, and such like 
 co. nbustible matter, in rows, and set them on 
 fire on the approach of the locusts. But all 
 this was to no purpose ; or the trenches were 
 quickly filled up, and the fires put out by the 
 vast number of swarms that succeeded each 
 other. A day or two after one of these was 
 in motion, others that were just hatched came 
 to glean alter them, gnawing off the young 
 branches and the very bark of the trees. 
 Having lived near a month in this manner, 
 they arrived at their full growth, and threw 
 off their worm-like state, by casting their skins. 
 To prepare themselves for this change, they 
 fixed their hinder feet to some bush or twig, 
 or corner of a stone, when immediately, by 
 an undulating motion used on this occasion, 
 their heads would first appear, and soon after 
 the rest of their bodies. The whole transfor- 
 mation was performed in seven or eight 
 minutes' time ; after which, they were a little 
 while, in a languishing condition ; but as soon 
 as the sun and air had hardened their wings, 
 and dried up the moisture that remained after 
 casting off their sloughs, they returned again 
 to their former greediness, with an addition 
 both of strength and agility. But they did 
 not continue long in this state before they 
 were entirely dispersed ; after laying their 
 eggs, directing their course northward, they 
 probably perished in the sea. It is said that 
 the holes these animals make, to deposite their 
 eggs, are four feet deep in the ground ; the 
 eggs are about fourscore in number, of the size 
 of caraway comfits, and bundled up together 
 in clusters. 
 
 It would be endless to recount all the mis- 
 chiefs which these famished insects have at 
 different times occasioned ; but whit cin have 
 induced them to take such distant flights, 
 when they come into Europe, is not so easy 
 to be accounted for. It seems most probable, 
 that by means of a very diy season in the 
 heart of Africa, they are propagated in such 
 
 numbers, that the vegetables of the spot where 
 they are produced are not sufficient to sustain 
 them. Thus being obliged to find out other 
 countries, they traverse the sandy deserts, 
 where they can find no sustenance : still meet- 
 ing with nothing to allure them from their 
 height, they proceed forward across the sea, 
 and thus come into Europe, where they alight 
 upon the first green pastures that occur. 
 
 In some parts of the world, the inhabitants 
 turn what seems a plague to their own ad- 
 vantage. Locusts are eaten by the natives in 
 many kingdoms of the East ; and are caught 
 in small nets provided for that purpose. 
 They parch them over the fire in an earthen 
 pan ; and when their wings and legs are fallen 
 off, they turn reddish, of the colour of boiled 
 shrimps. Dampicr has eaten them thus 
 prepared, and thinks them a tolerable dish. 
 The natives of Barbary also eat them fried 
 with salt ; and they are said to taste like cray- 
 fish. 
 
 There is a locust in Tonquin, about the 
 bigness of the top of a man's finger, and as 
 long as the first joint. It breeds in the earth, 
 in low grounds; mid in the months of Janu- 
 ary and February, which is the season for 
 taking them, they issue from the earth in vast 
 swarms. At first they can hardly fly, so that 
 they often fall into the rivers in great num- 
 bers : however, the natives in these months 
 watch the rivers, and take them up in multi- 
 tude* in small nets. They eisher eat them 
 fresh, broiled on the coals, or pickle them for 
 keeping. They are considered as a great 
 delicacy in that part of the world, as well by 
 the rich as the poor. In the countries where 
 they are eaten, they are regularly brought to 
 market, and sold as larks or quails in Europe. 
 They must have been a common food with 
 the Jews, as Moses, in the book of Leviticus, 
 permits them to eat four different kinds of this 
 animal, which he takes care to specify. This 
 dish, however, has not yet made its way into 
 the kitchens of the luxurious in Europe ; and 
 though we may admire the delicacies of the 
 East, we are as yet happily deprived of the 
 power of imitation. 
 
 Of all animals, however, of this noxious 
 trib". the Great West Indian Locust, m- 
 'UvUually considered, is the most formidable. 
 It is about the thickness of the barrel of a 
 goose-quill, and the body is divided into nine 
 
776 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 or ten joints, in the whole about six or seven 
 inches long. It has two small eyes standing 
 out of the head like those of crabs, mid two 
 feelers like long hair. The whole body is 
 studded with small excrescences, which are 
 not much bigger than the points of pins. The 
 shape is roundish, and the body diminishes in 
 circumference to the tail, which is forked into 
 two horns. Between this, there is a sort of a 
 sheath contnining a small dangerous sting. 
 If any person happens to touch tiiis insect, he 
 is sure to be stung; and is immediately taken 
 with a shivering and trembling all over the 
 body; which, however, may soon be put a 
 stop to, by rubbing the place that was affected 
 with a little palm oil.* 
 
 From the locust we descend to the Cricket, 
 which is a very inoffensive and pretty animal. 
 Though there be a species of this insect that 
 lives entirely in the woods and fit-Ids, yet that 
 with which we are best acquainted is the 
 House-cricket, whose voice is so well known 
 behind a country fire in a winter's evening. 
 There is something so unusual in hearing a 
 sound while we do not see the animal pro- 
 ducing it, nor discover the place from whence 
 it comes, that among the country people the 
 chirping of the cricket is always held ominous ; 
 and whether it deserts the fire-side, or pays 
 an unexpected visit, the credulous peasantry 
 always find something to be afraid of. In 
 general, however, the killing of a cricket is 
 considered as a most unlucky omen : and 
 though their company is not much desired, 
 yet no methods must be taken to remove them. 
 
 The cricket very much resembles the grass- 
 hopper in its shape, its manner of ruminating, 
 its voice, its leaping, and methods of propaga- 
 tion. It differs in its colour, which is uniform- 
 ly of a rusty brown ; in its food, which is 
 more various ; and in its place of residence, 
 which is most usually in the warmest chinks 
 behind a country hearth. They are, in some 
 measure, obliged to the bad masonry employ- 
 ed in making peasants' houses for their retreats. 
 The smallest chink serves to give them shelter; 
 and where they once make their abode, they 
 are sure to propagate. They are of a most 
 chilly nature, seldom leaving the fire-side ; 
 and, if undisturbed, are seen to hop from their 
 
 (a) It is now known that every insect of this tribe it 
 perfectly harmless. 
 
 retreats to chirrup at the blaze in the chimney. 
 The wood-cricket is the most timorous animal 
 in nature ; but the chimney-cricket, being 
 used to noises, disregnrds not only those, but 
 the appearance of people near it. Whether 
 the voice of (his animal is formed in the same 
 manner with that of the grasshopper, by a fine 
 membrane at the base of the wings, which is 
 moved by a muscle, and which being coiled 
 up, gives a sound like a quail-pipe, is not yet 
 ascertained ; nor do we well know the use of 
 this voice, since anatomical inspection has not 
 yet been able to discover the smallest organs 
 of hearing. Still, however, we can mnke no 
 doubt of their power of distinguishing sound?, 
 though probably not in the same manner with 
 the more prefect ranks of nature. Certain it 
 is, that I have often heard them call, and this 
 call was as regularly answered by another, 
 although none but the males are vocal. 
 
 As the cricket lives chiefly in the dark, so 
 its ryes set-in formed for the gloominess of its 
 abode ; and those who would surprise it, have 
 only to light a candle unexpectedly; by which 
 it is dazzled, and cannot find the way back to 
 its retreat. It is a very voracious little ani- 
 mal, awl will eat bread, flour, and meat ; but 
 it is particularly fond of sugar. They never 
 drink, but keep for months together at the 
 bark, of the chiiuiH'v, where they could pos- 
 sibly have hud no moisture. The warmth of 
 tlu-ir situation only serves to increase their 
 mirth and loquacity. Except in the very 
 coldest weather, they never cease their chir- 
 ruping, but continue ihat little piercing note, 
 which is a* pleasing to some as it is disagree- 
 able to others. The great Scaliger was pajr- 
 ticularly delighted with the chirruping of 
 crickets, and kept several of them for his 
 amusement, enclosed in a box, which he 
 placed in a warm situation. Others, on the 
 contrary, think there is something ominous 
 and Rir.iitnf.holy in the sound, and use every 
 endeavour to banish this insect from th?ir 
 houses. Ledelius tells us of a woman who 
 was very much incommoded by crickets, and 
 tried, but in vain, every method of banishing 
 them from her house. She at last accidental- 
 ly succeeded ; for having one day invited 
 several guests to her house, where there was 
 a wedding, in order to increase the festivity 
 of the entertainment, she procured drums and 
 trumpets to entertain them. The noise of 
 
THE GRASSHOPPER KIND. 
 
 777 
 
 these was so much greater than what the little 
 animals were used to, that they instantly for- 
 sook their situation, and were never heard in 
 that mansion more. 
 
 But of all the cricket kind, that which is 
 called the Mok-Cricket is the most extraor- 
 dinary. Tin's animal is the largest of all the 
 insects with which we are acquainted in this 
 country, being two inches and a half in length, 
 and three quarters of an inch in breadth. 
 The colour is of a dusky brown ; and at the 
 extremity of the tail there are two hairy ex- 
 crescences, resembling in some sense the tail 
 of a mouse. The body consists of eight scaly 
 joints or separate folds, is brown on the up- 
 per part, and more deeply tinged below. 
 The wings are long, narrow, and terminate 
 in a sharp point, each having a blackish line 
 running down it : however, when they are 
 extended, they appear to be much broader 
 than could at first sight be supposed. The 
 shield of the breast is of a firm texture, of a 
 blackish colour, and hairy. The fore feet, 
 which arc this animal's principal instruments 
 of burrowing into the earth, are strong, 
 webbed, and hairy; it generally, however, 
 runs backward ; but it is commonly under 
 ground, where it burrows even faster than a 
 mole. It is thought also to be amphibious, 
 and capable of living under water, as well as 
 under ground. 
 
 Of all insects this is the most detested by 
 gardeners, as it chiefly resides in that ground 
 which lies light, and where it finds sufficient 
 plenty under the surface. Thus, in a single 
 night's time, it will run along a furrow which 
 has been newly sown, and rob it of all its 
 contents. Its legs are formed in such a man- 
 ner that it can penetrate the earth in every 
 direction; before, behind, and above it. At 
 night it ventures from its under-ground habi- 
 
 (n) iVmong this tribe maybe numbered the Great Lan- 
 tern Fly of Peru, an insect the most splendid and lumi- 
 nous of all that ere yet known. In the head is contained 
 a phosphorescent light, sufficiently vivid to nerve the pur- 
 poses of a candle in a dark room ; or, when two or three 
 
 tation, and, like the cricket, has its chirping 
 call. When the female is fecundated, she 
 makes a cell of clammy earth, the inside of 
 which is large enough to hold two hazel-nuts; 
 and in this she lays her eggs. The whole 
 nest is about the size of a common hen's egg, 
 closed up on every side, and well defended 
 from the smallest breath of air. The eggs 
 generally amount to the number of a hundred 
 and fifty, being white, and about the size of 
 a caraway comfit. They, are thus carefully 
 covered, as well to defend them from the in- '' 
 juries of the weather, as from the attacks of 
 the black beetle; that being itself an under- 
 ground inhabitant, would, but for this pre- 
 caution, devour or destroy them. To pre- 
 vent this, the female rnole-cricket is often 
 posted as a centinel near the nest, and when 
 the black invader plunges in to seize its prey, 
 the guardian insect seizes him behind, and 
 instantly bites him in two. 
 
 Nothing can exceed the care and assiduity 
 which these animals exhibit in the preserva- 
 tion of their young. Wherever the nest is 
 placed, there seems to be a fortification, 
 avenues and entrenchments, drawn round it: 
 there are numberless winding-ways that lead 
 to It, and a ditch drawn about it, which few 
 of its insect enemies are able to pass. But 
 their care is not confined to this only ; for at 
 the approach of winter they carry their nest 
 entirely away, and sink it deeper in the 
 ground, so that the frost can have no influence 
 in retarding the young brood from coming to 
 maturity. As the weather grows milder, they 
 raise their magazine in proportion; till, at 
 last, they bring it as near the surface as they 
 can, to receive the genial influence of the 
 sun, without wholly exposing it to view ; yet 
 should the frost unexpectedly return, they 
 sink it again as before. 8 
 
 are put together at the end of a stick, to light travellers 
 on the road like a lantern. It is about the size of the 
 larger kind of lor.ust, and the wings and whole body are 
 beautifully variegated. 
 
778 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 CHAPTER CJLXXXII. 
 
 OF THE EARWIG, THE FROTH INSECT, AND SOME OTHERS BELONGING 
 TO THE SECOND ORDER OF INSECTS. 
 
 WE should still keep in memory, that all 
 insects of the second order, though not pro- 
 duced quite perfect from the egg, yet want 
 very little of their perfection, and require 
 but a very small change to arrive at that 
 state which fits them for flight and generation. 
 The natural functions in these are never sus- 
 pended ; from the instant they leave the egg, 
 they continue to eat, to move, to leap, and 
 pursue their prey: a slight change ensues; 
 a skin, that enclosed a part of their body and 
 limbs, bursts behind, like a woman's stays, 
 and gives freedom to a set of wings, with 
 which the animal expatiates, and flies in pur- 
 suit of its mate. 
 
 Of all this class of insects, the Earwig un- 
 dergoes the smallest change. This animal 
 is so common that it scarce needs a descrip- 
 tion : its swiftness in the reptile state is not 
 less remarkable than its indefatigable velocity 
 when upon the wing. That it must be very 
 prolific, appears from its numbers; and that 
 it is very harmless, every one's experience 
 can readily testify. It is provided with six 
 feet, and two feelers ; the tail is forked ; and 
 with this it often attempts to defend itself 
 against every assailant. But its attempts are 
 only the threats of impotence; they draw 
 down the resentment of powerful animals, 
 but no way serve to defend it. The deformity 
 of its figure, and its slender make, have also 
 subjected it to an imputation, which, though 
 entirely founded in prejudice, has more than 
 once procured its destruction. It is supposed, 
 as the name imports, that it often enters into 
 the ears of people sleeping ; thus causing 
 madness from the intolerable pain, and soon 
 after death itself. Indeed, the French name, 
 which signifies the Ear-piercer, urges the 
 calumny against this harmless insect in very 
 plain terms; yet nothing can be more unjust: 
 the ear is already filled with a substance 
 which prevents any insect from entering; 
 
 and besides, it is well lined, and defended 
 with membranes, which would keep out any 
 little animal, even though ihe ear-wax were 
 away. These reproaches, therefore, are 
 entirely groundless: but it were well if the 
 accusations which gardeners bring against 
 the earwig were as slightly founded. There 
 is nothing more certain than that it lives 
 among flowers, and destroys them. When 
 fruit also has been wounded by flies, the ear- 
 wig generally comes in for a second feast, 
 and sucks those juices which they first began 
 to broach. Still, however, this insect is not 
 so noxious as it would seem ; and seldom is 
 found but where the mischief has been origin- 
 ally begun by others. Like all of this class, 
 the earwig is hatched from an egg. As there 
 are various kinds of this animal, so they 
 choose different places to breed in: in gene- 
 ral, however, they lay their eggs under the 
 bark of plants, or in the clefts of trees, when 
 beginning to decay. They proceed from the 
 egg in that reptile state in which they are 
 most commonly seen ; and, as they grow lar- 
 ger, the wings bound under the skin begin to 
 bourgeon. It is amazing how very little 
 room four large wings take, up before they 
 are protruded ; for no person could ever con- 
 ceive such an expansion of natural drapery 
 could be rolled up in so small a packet. 
 The sheath in which they are enveloped, 
 folds and covers them so neatly, that the ani- 
 mal seems quite destitute of wings;" and 
 even when they are burst from^lheir confine- 
 ment, the animal, by the power of the muscles 
 and joints which it has in the middle of its 
 wings, can closely fold them into a very nar- 
 row compass. When the earwig has become 
 a winged insect, it flies in pursuit of the fe- 
 male, ceasing to feed, and is wholly employ- 
 ed in the business of propagation. It lives in 
 
 (a) Swamtnerdam, p. 114. 
 
THE EARWIG KIND. 
 
 779 
 
 its winged state but a few days ; and having 
 taken care for the continuance of posterity, 
 dries up, and dies to all appearance con- 
 sumptive." 
 
 To this order of insects we may also refer 
 the Cuckow-Spit, or Froth-Worm, that is 
 often found hid in that frothy matter which 
 we find on the surface of plants. It has an 
 oblong obtuse body ; and a large head with 
 small eyes. The external wings, for it has 
 four, are of a dusky brown, marked with two 
 white spots : the head is black. The spume 
 in which it is found wallowing, is all of its 
 own formation, and very much resembles 
 frothy spittle. It proceeds from the vent of 
 the animal, and other parts of the body ; and 
 if it be wiped away, a new quantity will be 
 quickly seen ejected from the little animal's 
 body. Within this spume it is seen in time 
 to acquire four tubercles on its back, where- 
 in the wings are enclosed : these bursting, 
 from a reptile it becomes a winged animal; 
 and thus rendered perfect, it flies to meet its 
 mate, and propagate its kind. 
 
 The Water-Tipula also belongs to this 
 class. It has an oblong slender body, with 
 four feet fixed upon the breast, and four 
 feelers near the mouth. It has four weak 
 Avings, which do not at all seem proper for 
 flying, but leaping only. But what this insect 
 chiefly demands our attention for is, the 
 wonderful lightness wherewith it runs on the 
 surface of the water, so as scarce to put it 
 in motion. It is sometimes seen in rivers, 
 and on their banks, especially under shady 
 trees; and generally in swarms of several 
 together. 
 
 The Common Water-Fly also breeds in the 
 same manner with those above mentioned. 
 
 (a) The indefatigable M. de Goer has discovered that 
 the female earwig sits over her eggs, and fosters her young, 
 in the tame manner as a hen does her chickens. 
 
 NO. 65 & 66. 
 
 This animal is by some called Notonecta, 
 because it does not swim, in the usual man- 
 ner, upon its belly, but on its back : nor can 
 we help admiring that fitness in this insect 
 ! for its situation, as it feeds on the under-side 
 of plants which grow on the surface of the 
 water; and therefore it is thus formed with 
 its month upwards, to take its food with 
 greater convenience and ease. 
 
 We may also add the Water-Scorpion, 
 which is a large insect, being near an inch in 
 length, arid about half an inch in breadth. 
 Its body is nearly oval, but very flat and thin; 
 and its tail long and pointed. The head is 
 small ; and the feelers appear like legs, re- 
 sembling the claws of a scorpion, but without 
 sharp points. This insect is generally found 
 in ponds; and is, of all others, the most 
 tyrannical and rapacious. It destroys, like 
 a wolf among sheep, twenty times as many as 
 its hunger requires. One of these, when put 
 into a basin of water, in which were thirty 
 or forty worms of the libellula kind, each as 
 large as itself, destroyed them all in a few 
 minutes ; getting on their backs, and piercing 
 with its trunk through their body. These 
 animals, however, though so formidable to 
 others, are nevertheless themselves greatly 
 overrun with a little kind of louse, about the 
 size of a nit, which very probably repays the 
 injury which the water-scorpion inflicts upon 
 others. 
 
 The water-scorpions live in the water by 
 day; out of which they rise in the dusk of 
 the evening into the air, and so flying from 
 place to place, often betake themselves, in 
 quest of food, to other waters. The in- 
 sect, before its wings are grown, remains 
 in the place where it was produced; but 
 when come to its state of perfection, sallies 
 forth in search of a companion of the other 
 sex, in order to continue its noxious pos- 
 terity. 
 
 
780 
 
 A HISTORY OP 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXXIII. 
 
 OF THE EPHEMERA. 
 
 THE last insect we shall add to the second 
 order, is the Ephemera; which though not 
 strictly belonging to it, yet seems more pro- 
 perly referred to this rank than any other. 
 Indeed, we must not attend to the rigour of 
 method, in a history where nature seems to 
 take delight to sport in variety. 
 
 That there should be a tribe of flies whose 
 duration extends but to a day, seems at first 
 surprising; but the wonder will increase, 
 when we are told, that some of this kind seem 
 to be born and to die in the space of a single 
 hour. The reptile, however, from which 
 they are bred, is by no means so short-lived; 
 but is sometimes seen to live two years, and 
 many times three years together. 
 
 All ephemeras, of which there are various 
 kinds, are produced from the egg in the 
 form of worms ; from whence they change 
 into a more perfect form ; namely, that of 
 aurelias, which is a kind of middle state be- 
 tween a worm and a fly ; and from thence 
 they take their last mutation, which is into a 
 beautiful fly, of longer or shorter duration, 
 according to its kind. 
 
 The ephemera, in its fly state, is a very 
 beautiful winged insect, and has a strong 
 similitude to the butterfly, both from its shape 
 and its wings. It is -about the size of a 
 middling butterfly ; but its wings differ in not 
 being covered with the painted dust with 
 which those of butterflies are adorned, and 
 rendered opake, for they are very transparent 
 and tery thin. These insects have four 
 wings, the uppermost of which are much the 
 largest: when the insect is at rest, it gene- 
 rally lays its wings one over the other, on the 
 back. The body is long, being formed of 
 six rings, these are larger at the origin than 
 near the extremity; and from this a tail pro- 
 ceeds, that is longer than all the rest of the 
 fly, and consists sometimes of three threads 
 of an equal length, or sometimes of two long 
 and one short. To acquire this beautiful 
 
 form, the insect has been obliged to undergo 
 several transmutations; but its glory is very 
 short-lived, for the hour of its perfection is 
 the hour of its death ; and it seems scarcely 
 introduced to pleasure, when it is obliged to 
 part with life. 
 
 The reptile that is to become a fly, and 
 that is granted so long a term, when compared 
 to its latter duration, is an inhabitant of the 
 water, and bears a very strong resemblance 
 to fishes, in many particulars ; having gills 
 by which it breaths at the bottom, and also 
 the tapering form of aquatic animals. These 
 insects have six scaly legs, fixed on their 
 corselet. Their head is triangular: the eyes 
 are placed forward, and may be distinguish- 
 ed by their largeness and colour. The mouth 
 is furnished with teeth ; and the body con- 
 sists of six rings; that next the corselet being 
 largest, but growing less and less to the end : 
 the last ring is the shortest, from which the, 
 three threads proceed, which are as long 
 as the whole body. Thus we see that the 
 reptile bears a very strong resemblance to 
 the fly ; and only Fequires wings, to be very 
 near its perfection. 
 
 As there are several kinds of this animal, 
 their aurelias are consequently of different 
 colours ; some yellow, some brown, and some 
 cream-coloured. Some of these also bore 
 themselves cells at the bottom of the water, 
 from which they never stir out, but feed upon 
 the mud composing the walls of their habita- 
 tion, in contented captivity; others, on the 
 contrary, range about, go from the bottom to 
 the surface, swim between two waters, quit 
 that element, entirely to feed upon plants by 
 the river side, and then return to their favou- 
 rite element, for safety and protection. 
 
 The reptile, however, though it lives two 
 or three years, offers but little, in its long 
 duration, to excite curiosity : it is hid at the 
 bottom of the water, and feeds almost wholly 
 within its narrow habitation. The most 
 
THE EPHEMERA. 
 
 781 
 
 striking facts command our attention during 
 the short interval of its fly state ; into which 
 it crowds the most various transactions of its 
 little life. It then may be said to be in a 
 hurry to live, as it has but so small a time to 
 exist. The peculiar sign whereby to know 
 that these reptiles will change into Hies in a 
 short time, consists in a protuberance of the 
 wings on the back. About that time the 
 smooth and depressed form of the upper part 
 of the body is changed into a mere swollen 
 and rounder shape; o that the wings are in 
 some degree visible through the external 
 sheath that covers them. As they are not 
 natives of England, he who would s^e them 
 in their greatest abundance, must walk, about 
 sun-set, along the banks of the Rhine, or the 
 Seine near Paris; where, for about three 
 days, in the midst of summer, lie will be 
 astonished at their numbers and assiduity. 
 The thickest descent of the flakes of snow in 
 winter seems not to equal their number; the 
 whole air seems alive with the new born race : 
 and the earth itself is all over covered with 
 their remains. The aurelias, or reptile in- 
 sects, that are as yet beneath the surface of 
 the water, wait only for the approach of 
 evening to begin their transformation. The 
 most industrious shake off their old gar- 
 ments about eight o'clock ; and those who 
 are the most tardy, are transformed before 
 nine. 
 
 We have already seen that the operation 
 of change in other insects is laborious and 
 painful: but with these nothing seems shorter, 
 or performed with greater ease. The aure- 
 lias are scarcely lifted above the surface of 
 the water, than their old sheathing skin bursts; 
 and through the cavity which is thus formed, 
 a fly issues, whose wings, at the same instant, 
 are unfolded, and at the same time lift it into 
 the air. Millions and millions of aurelias 
 rise in this manner to the surface: and at 
 once become flies, and till every quarter with 
 their flutterings. But all these sports are 
 shortly to have an end ; for as the little stran- 
 gers live but an hour or two, the whole swarm 
 soon falls to the ground, and covers the 
 earth, like a deep snow, for several hundred 
 yards, on every side of the river. Their 
 numbers are then incredible, and every ob- 
 ject they touch becomes fatal to them ; for 
 
 I they instantly die, if they hit even against 
 each other. 
 
 At this time the males and females are 
 very differently employed. The males, quite 
 inactive, and apparently without desires,seetn 
 only born to die: no way like the males of 
 other insects; they neither follow the oppo- 
 site sex, nor bear any enmity to each other: 
 after fluttering for an hour or two, they drop 
 upon land, without seeming to receive wings 
 for scarce any other purpose but to satisfy 
 an idle curiosity. It is otherwise with the 
 females ; they are scarce risen from the sur- 
 face of the water, and have dried their wings, 
 but they hasten to drop their eggs back again. 
 If they happen also to flutter upon land, they 
 deposite their burden in the place where 
 they drop. But then it may be demanded, 
 where, and in what manner, are these eggs 
 fecundated, as no copulation whatever ap- 
 pears between the sexes, in their transitory 
 visits in air? Swammerdam is of opinion, 
 that they are impregnated in the manner of 
 fish-spawn, by the male, after being ejected 
 by the female; but, beside that, this doctrine 
 is exploded even from the history of fishes, it 
 is certain that the males have not time for 
 this operation, as the eggs drop to the bottom 
 the instant they arc laid on the water. Reau- 
 mur is of opinion that they copulate; but 
 that the act bears a proportion in shortness 
 to the small duration of their lives; and, con- 
 sequently, must be so soon performed, as to 
 be scarcely visible. This, however, is at 
 best forcing a theory; and it is probable, that 
 as there are many insects known to breed 
 without any impregnation from the male, as 
 we have already seen in muscles and oysters, 
 and shall hereafter see in the gnat, and a 
 species of the beetle, so the ephemera may 
 be of this number. Be this as it may, the fe- 
 males are in such haste to deposite their eggs, 
 that multitudes of them fall to the ground; 
 but the greatest part are laid in the water. 
 As they Butter upon the surface, two clusters 
 are seen issuing from the extremity of their 
 body, each containing about three hundred 
 and fifty eggs, which make seven hundred in 
 all. Thus, of all insects, this appears to be 
 the most prolific ; and it would seem that 
 there was a necessity for such a supply, as in 
 its reptile state it is the favourite food of 
 5Q* 
 
782 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 every kind of fresh-water fish. It is in vain 
 that these little animals form galleries at the 
 bottom of the river, from whence they seldom 
 remove ; many kinds of fish break in upon 
 their retreats, and thin their numbers. For 
 this reason fishermen are careful to provide 
 themselves with these insects, as the most 
 grateful bait ; and thus turn the fish's rapacity 
 to its own destruction. 
 
 But though the usual date of those flies is 
 two or three hours at farthest, there are som.e 
 kinds that live several days; and one kind in 
 
 particular, after quitting the water, has 
 another case or skin to get rid of. These 
 are often seen in the fields and woods, distant 
 from the water; but they are more frequent- 
 ly found in its vicinity. They are often tound 
 sticking upon walls and trees ; and frequent- 
 ly with the head downwards, without chang- 
 ing place, or having any sensible motion. 
 They are then waiting for the moment when 
 they shall be divested of their last incommo- 
 dious garment, which sometimes does not 
 happen for two or three days together. 
 
CATERPILLARS IN GENERAL, 
 
 783 
 
 or INSECTS or THE THIRD ORDER. 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXXIV. 
 
 OF CATERPILLARS IN GENERAL. 
 
 IF we take a cursory view of insects in 
 general, caterpillars alone, and the butter- 
 flies and moths they give birth to, will make 
 a third part of the number. Wherever we 
 move, wherever we turn, these insects, in one 
 shape or another, present themselves to our 
 Some, in every state, offer the most 
 
 view. 
 
 entertaining spectacle ; others are beautiful 
 only in their winged form. Many persons, of 
 "which number I am one, have an invincible 
 aversion to caterpillars and worms of every 
 species : there is something disagreeable in 
 their slow crawling motion, for which the 
 variety of their colouring can never compen- 
 sate. But others feel no repugnance at ob- 
 serving, and even handling, them with the 
 most attentive application. 
 
 There is nothing in the butterfly state so 
 be tutiful or splendid as these insects. They 
 serve, not less than the birds themselves, to 
 banish solitude from our walks, and to fill up 
 our idle intervals with the most pleasing 
 speculations. The butterfly makes one of 
 the principal ornaments of oriental poetry; 
 but in those countries, the insect is larger 
 and more beautiful than with us. 
 
 The beauties of the fly may, therefore, 
 very well excite 'our curiosity to examine the 
 reptile. But we are still more strongly at- 
 tached to this tribe from the usefulness of one 
 of the number. The silk-worm is, perhaps, 
 the most serviceable of all other animals ; 
 since, from its labours, and the manufacture 
 attending it, near a third part of the world 
 are clothed, adorned, and supported. 
 
 Caterpillars may be easily distinguished 
 from worms or maggots, by the number of 
 
 their feet; and by their producing butterflies 
 or moths. When the sun calls up vegetation, 
 and vivifies the various eggs of insects, the 
 caterpillars are the first that are seen upon 
 almost every vegetable and tree, eating its 
 leaves, and preparing for a state of greater 
 perfection. They have feet both before and 
 behind ; which not only enable them to move 
 forward by a sort of steps made by their fore 
 and hinder parts, but also to climb up vege- 
 tables, and to stretch themselves out from the 
 boughs and stalks to reach their food at a 
 distance. All of this class have from eight 
 feet, at the least, to sixteen ; and this may 
 serve to distinguish them from the worm tribe, 
 that never have so many. The animal into 
 which they are converted is always a butter- 
 fly or a moth ; and these are always distin- 
 guished from other flies, by having their wings 
 covered over with a painted dust, which gives 
 them such various beauty. The wings of 
 flies are transparent, as we see in the com- 
 mon flesh-fly; while those of beetles are hard, 
 like horn : from such the wing of a butterfly 
 may be easily distinguished ; and words 
 would obscure their differences. 
 
 From hence it appears, that caterpillars, 
 whether in the reptile state, or advanced to 
 their last state of perfection into butterflies, 
 may easily be distinguished from all other in- 
 sects ; being animals peculiarly formed, and 
 also of a peculiar nature. The transmuta- 
 tions they undergo are also more numerous 
 than those of any insect hitherto mentioned ; 
 and, in consequence, they have been placed 
 in the third order of changes by Swammer- 
 dam, who has thrown such lights upon this 
 
784 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 part of natural history. In the second order 
 of changes, men.ioned before, we saw the 
 grs*. topper and ihe earwig, when excluded 
 from the egg, assume a form very like tint 
 wiiicn they were after to preserve ; and seem- 
 ed arrived at a state of perfection, in all re- 
 spects, except in not having wings ; which 
 did not bud forth until they were come to ma- 
 turity. But the insects of this third order, 
 that we are now about to describe, go through 
 a much greater variety of tra sformaiions ; 
 for when they are excluded from the egg, they 
 assume the form of a small caterpillar, which 
 feeds and grows larger every day, often chang- 
 ing its skin, but still preserving its form. 
 When the animal has come to a certain mag- 
 nitude in this state, it discontinues eating, 
 
 makes itself a covering or husk, in which it 
 remains wrapped up, seemingly without life 
 or motion ; and after having for some time 
 continued in tiiis state, it once more bursts its 
 confinement, and conies forth a beautiful but- 
 terfly. Thus we see this animal put on no 
 less than three different appearances, from the 
 time it is first excluded from (he egg. It ap- 
 pears a crawling caterpillar; then an insen- 
 sible aurelia, as it is called, without life or 
 motion ; and, lastly, a butterfly, variously 
 painted, according to its different kind. 
 Having thus distinguished this class of insects 
 from all others, we will first survey their his- 
 tory in general ; and then enter particularly 
 into the manners and nature of a few ot them, 
 which most deserve our curiosity and attention. 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXXV. 
 
 OF THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE CATERPILLAR INTO ITS CORRESPOND* 
 
 ING BUTTERFLY OR MOTH. 
 
 WHEN winter has disrobed the trees of 
 their leaves, nature then seems to have lost 
 her insects. There are thousands of different 
 kinds, with and without wings, which, though 
 swarming at other seasons, then entirely dis- 
 appear. Our fields are re-peopled, when the 
 leaves begin to bud, by the genial influence of 
 spring ; and caterpillars of various sorts are 
 seen feeding upon the promise of the year, 
 even before the leaves are completely unfolded. 
 Those caterpillars, which ue then see, may 
 serve to give us a view of the general means 
 which nature employs to preserve such a num- 
 ber of insects during that season, when they 
 can no longer find subsistence. It is known, 
 by united experience, that all these animals 
 are hatched from the eggs of butterflies : and 
 those who observe them more closely, will find 
 the fly very careful in depositing its eggs in 
 those places where they are likely to be hatch- 
 ed with the greatest safety and success. 
 During winter, therefore, the greatest number 
 of caterpillars are in an egg state ; and in this 
 lifeless situation brave all the rigours and the 
 humidity of the climate ; and though often ex 
 posed to all its changes, still preserve the la- 
 
 tent principles of life, which is more fully ex- 
 erted at the approach of spring. Thai same 
 power that pushes forth the budding leaf and 
 the opening flower, impels the insect into ani- 
 mation ; and nature at once seems to furnish 
 the guest and the banquet. When the insect 
 has found force to break its shell, it always 
 finds its favourite aliment provided in abun- 
 dance before it. 
 
 But all caterpillars are not sent r.ff from the 
 egg in the beginning of spring ; for many of 
 them have subsisted during the winter in thoir 
 aurelia state ; in which, as we have briefly ob- 
 served above, the animal is seemingly deprived 
 of life and motion. In this state of insensibility, 
 many of these insects eontimie during the 
 rigours of winter ; ome enclosed in a kind of 
 shell, which they have spun for themselves at 
 the end of autumn ; some concealed under the 
 bark of trees ; others in the chinks of old 
 wells; and many buried underground. From 
 all these, a variety of butterflies are seen to 
 issue in the beginning of spring ; and adorn 
 the earliest part of the year with their painted 
 flutterings. 
 
 Some caterpillars do not make any change 
 
THE CATERPILLAR. 
 
 785 
 
 whatsoever at the approach of winter ; but 
 continue to live in their reptile state through 
 all the severity of the season. They choose 
 themselves some retreat, where they may re- 
 main undisturbed for months together; and 
 tin-re they continue motionless, and as insen- 
 sible as if they were actually dead. Their 
 constitution is such, that food at that time 
 would be useless ; and the cold prevents their 
 making those dissipations which require resto- 
 ration. In general, caterpillars of this kind 
 are found in great numbers together, enclosed 
 in one common web, that covers them alF, and 
 serves to protect them from the injuries of the 
 air. 
 
 Lastly, there are some of the caterpillar 
 kind, whose butterflies live all the winter ; 
 and who, having fluttered about for some 
 part of the latter end of autumn, seek for some 
 retreat during the winter, in order to answer 
 the ends of propagation at the approach of 
 spring. These are often found lifeless and 
 motionless in the hollows of trees or the clefts 
 of timber ; but by being approached to the 
 fire, they recover life and activity, and seem 
 to anticipate the desires of the spring. 
 
 In general, however, whether the animal 
 has subsisted in an egg state, during the win- 
 ter ; or whether as a butterfly, bred from an 
 aurelia, in the beginning of spring ; or a but- 
 terfly that has subsisted during the winter, and 
 lays eggs as soon as the leaves of plants are 
 shot forward ; the whole swarrn of caterpillars 
 are in motion to share the banquet that nature 
 has provided. There is scarcely a plant that 
 has not its own peculiar insects ; and some 
 are knowi> to support several of different kinds. 
 Of these, many are hatched from the egg, at 
 the foot of the tree, and climb up to its leaves 
 for subsistence ; the eggs of others have been 
 glued by the parent butterfly to the leaves ; 
 and they are no sooner excluded from the 
 shell, but they find themselves in the midst of 
 plenty. 
 
 When the caterpillar first bursts from the 
 egg, it is small and feeble; its appetites are in 
 proportion to its size, and it seems to rn<.ke no 
 great co .sumption ; but as k increase* in 
 magnitude, it improves in its appe ites ; so 
 that, in its adult caterpillar state, it is i he most 
 ravenous of all animals whatsoever. A single 
 caterpillar will eat double its own w iglit of 
 leaves in a day, and yet seems no way disor- 
 
 dered by the meal. What would mankind 
 do, if their oxen or their horses were so vora- 
 cious ? 
 
 These voracious habits, with its slow crawl- 
 ing motion, but still more a stinging like that 
 of nettles, which follows upon handling the 
 greatest number of them, make these insects 
 not the most agreeable objects of human 
 curiosity. However, there are many philoso- 
 phers who have spent years in their contem- 
 plation ; and who have not only attended to 
 their habits and labours, but minutely ex- 
 amined their structure and internal conforma- 
 tion. 
 
 The body of the caterpillar, when anatomi- 
 cally considered, is found composed of rings, 
 whose circumference is pretty near circular or 
 oval. They arc generally twelve in number, 
 nnd arc all membranaceous ; by which cater- 
 pillars may be distinguished from many other 
 insects, that nearly resemble them in form. 
 The head of the caterpillar is connected to the 
 first ring by the neck ; that is generally so 
 short and contracted, that it is scarce visible. 
 All the covering of the head in caterpillars 
 seems to consist of a shell; and they have 
 neither upper nor under jaw, for they are both 
 placed rather vertically, and each jaw armed 
 with a large thick tooth, which is singly equal 
 to numbers. With these the animals devour 
 their food in such amazing quantities ; and 
 with these, some of the kind defend themselves 
 
 against their enemies. 
 
 Though the mouth be 
 
 kept shut, the teeth are always uncovered ; 
 and while the insect is in health they are sel- 
 dom without employment. Whatever the 
 caterpillar devours, these teeth serve to chop 
 it into small pieces, and render the parts of 
 the leaf fit for swallowing. Many kinds, while 
 they are yet young v eat only the succulent 
 part of the leaf, and leave all the fibres un- 
 touched ; others, however, attack the whole 
 leaf, and eat it clean away. One may be 
 amused, for a little time, in observing the 
 avidity with which they are seen to feed ; 
 some are seen eating the whole day ; others 
 have their hours of repast ; some choose the 
 night, and others the day. When the cater- 
 pillar attacks a leaf, it places its body in such 
 * maun r that the edge of the leaf shall fall 
 'ictweeu its feet, which keeps it steady while 
 the teet" are employed in cutting it : these 
 fall upon the leaf somewhat in the manner of a 
 
786 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 pair of gardener's shears ; and every morsel 
 is swallowed as soon as cut. Some caterpil- 
 lars feed upon leaves so very narrow, that 
 they are not broader than their mouths ; in 
 this case the animal is seen to devour it from 
 the point, as \ve would eat a radish. 
 
 As there are various kinds of caterpillars, the 
 number of their feet are various; some having 
 eight, and some sixteen. Of these feet the six 
 foremost are covered with a sort of shining 
 gristle ; and are therefore called the shelly legs. 
 The hindmost feet, whatever be their number, 
 are soft and flexible, and are called membru- 
 naceous. Caterpillars also, with regard to 
 their external figure, are either smooth or 
 hairy. The skin of the first kind is soft to 
 the touch, or hard like shagreen ; the skin of 
 the latter is hairy, and as it were thorny ; and 
 generally, if handled, stings like nettles. 
 Some of them even cause this stinging pain if 
 but approached too nearly. 
 
 Caterpillars, in general, have six small 
 black spots placed on the circumference of the 
 fore ring, and a little to the side of the head. 
 Three of these are larger than the rest, and 
 are convex and transparent : these Reaumur 
 takes to be the eyes of the caterpillar ; how- 
 ever, most of these reptiles have very little oc- 
 casion for sight, and seem only to be directed 
 by their feeling. 
 
 But the parts of the caterpillar's body which 
 most justly demand our attention, are the 
 stigmata, as they are called ; or those holes 
 on. the sides of its body, through which the 
 animal is supposed to breath. All along this 
 insect's body, on each side, these holes are 
 easily discoverable. They are eighteen in 
 number, nine on a side, rather nearer the belly 
 than the back ; a hole for every ring, of which 
 the animal's body is composed, except the 
 second, the third, and the last. Tiiese oval 
 openings may be considered as so many 
 mouths, through which the insect breaths; 
 but with this difference, that as we have imc 
 one pair of lungs, the caterpillar has no less 
 than eighteen. It requires no great anatomi- 
 cal dexterity to discover these lungs in tbe lar- 
 ger kind of caterpillars : they appear, at first 
 view, to be hollow cartilaginous tubes, and of 
 the colour of mother-of-pearl. These tubes 
 are often seen to unite with each other ; some 
 are perceived to open into the intestines ; and 
 some go to different parts of the surface of the 
 
 body. That thrsc vessels serve to convey the 
 air, appears evidently, from the famous ex- 
 periment of Malpighi ; who, by stopping up 
 the mouths of the stigmata with oil, quickly 
 suffocated the animal, which" was seen to die 
 convulsed the instont after. In order to as- 
 certain his theory, he rubbed oil upon other 
 parts of the insect's body, leaving the stigmai;* 
 free ; and this seemed to have no effect upon 
 the animal's health, but it continued to move 
 and oat as usual : he rubbed oil on the stigmata 
 of one- side, and the animal underwent a 
 partial convulsion, but recovered soon after. 
 However, it ought to be observed, that air is 
 not so necfssary to these as to the nobler ranks 
 of animals, since caterpillars will live in an 
 exhausted receiver for several days together: 
 and though they scern dead at the bottom, yet, 
 when taken out, recover, and resume their 
 former vivacity. 
 
 If the caterpillar be cut open longitudinally 
 along the back, its intestines will be perceived 
 running directly in a straight line from the 
 mouth to the anus. They resemble a number 
 of small bags opening into each other; nd 
 strengthened on both sides by a fleshy cord, 
 by which they are united. These insects are, 
 upon many occasions, seen to cast forth the 
 internal coat of their intestines with their 
 food, in the changes which they so frequently 
 undergo. But the intestine^ take up but a 
 small part of the animal's body, if compared 
 to the fatty subatance in which they are in- 
 volved. The substance changes its colour 
 whan the insect's metamorphosis begins to ap- 
 proach ; aivi from white it is usually seen to 
 become yellow. If to these parts we add the 
 caterpillar's implements for spinning, (for all 
 caterpillars spin at one time or another,) we 
 shall have a rude sketch of this animal's con- 
 formation : however, we shall reserve the de- 
 scription of those parts, till we come to the his- 
 tory of the silk-worm, where the manner in 
 which thess insects spin their webs, will most 
 properly find a place. 
 
 The life of a caterpillar seems one continued 
 succession of changes, and it is seen to throw 
 off one skin only to assume another ; which 
 also is divested \K its turn : and thus for eight 
 or ten times successively. We must not, bow- 
 ever, confound this changing of the skin with 
 the great metamorphosis which it is afterwards 
 to undergo. The throwing off one skin, and 
 
THE CATERPILLAR. 
 
 assuming another, seems, in comparison, but 
 a slight operation among these animals: this 
 is but the work of a day ; the other is the 
 great adventure of their lives. Indeed, this 
 faculty of changing the skin, is not peculiar 
 to caterpillars only, but is common to all the 
 insect kind; and even to some animals that 
 claim a higher rank in nature. We have 
 already seen the lobster and the crab out- 
 growing their first shells, and then bursting 
 from their confinement, in order to assume a 
 covering more roomy and convenient. It is 
 probable that the louse, the flea, and the spi- 
 der, change their covering from the same 
 necessity; and growing too large for the crust 
 in which they have been for some time enclos- 
 ed, burst it for another. This period is pro- 
 bably that of their growth ; for as soon as 
 their new skin is hardened round them, the 
 animal's growth is necessarily circumscribed, 
 while it remains within it. With respect to 
 caterpillars, many of them change their skins 
 five or six times in a season ; and this cover- 
 ing, when cast off) often seems so complete, 
 that many might mistake the empty skin for 
 the real insect. Among the hairy caterpil- 
 lars, for instance, the cast skin is covered 
 with hair; the feet, as well gristly as mem- 
 braneous, remain fixed to it; even the parts 
 which nothing but a microscope can discover, 
 are visible in it; in short, all the parts of the 
 head ; not only the skull, but the teeth. 
 
 In proportion as the time approaches in 
 which the caterpillar is to cast its old skin. 
 its colours become more feeble, the skin 
 seems to wither and grow dry. and in some 
 measure resembles a leaf, when it is no lon- 
 ger supplied with moisture from the stock. 
 At that time, the insect begins to find it- 
 self under a necessity of changing; and it is 
 not effected without violent labour, and per- 
 haps pain. A d ly or two before the critical 
 hour approaches, the insect ceases to eat, 
 loses its usual activity, and seems to rest im- 
 moveable. It seeks some place to remain in 
 security ; and no longer timorous, seems re- 
 gardless even of the touch. It is now and 
 then seen to bend itself and elevate its back; 
 again it stretches to its utmost extent: it 
 sometimes lifts up the head, and then lets it 
 fall again; it sometimes wavf>s it three or 
 four times from side to side, and then remains 
 
 no. 67 & 68. 
 
 in quiet. At length, some of the rings of its 
 body, particularly the first and second. ;ire 
 seen to swell considerably, the old skin dis- 
 tends and bursts, till, by repeated swellings 
 and contractions in every ring, the animal 
 disengages itself and creeps from its incon- 
 venient covering. 
 
 How laborious soever this operation may 
 be, it is performed in the space of a minute; 
 and the animal, having thrown off its old skin, 
 seems to enjoy new vigour, as well as ac- 
 quired colouring and beauty. Sometimes it 
 happens that it takes a new appearance, and 
 colours very different from the old. Those 
 that are hairy still preserve their covering; 
 although their ancient skin seems not to have 
 lost a single hair: every hair appears to have 
 been drawn like a sword from the scabbard. 
 However, the fact is, that a new crop of hair 
 grows between the old skin and the new, and 
 probably helps to throw off the external 
 
 covering. 
 
 The caterpillar having in this manner con- 
 tinued for several days feeding, and at inter- 
 vals casting its skin, begins at last to prepare 
 for its change into an anrelia. It is most 
 probable that, from the beginning, all the 
 parts of the butterfly lay hid in this insect, 
 in its reptile state; but it required time to 
 bring them to perfection ; and a large quan- 
 tity of food, to enable the animal to undergo 
 all the changes requisite for throwing ofTthese 
 skins, which seemed to clog the butterfly 
 form. However, when the caterpillar has 
 fed sufficiently, and the parts of the future 
 butterfly have formed themselves beneath its 
 skin, it is then time for it to make its first 
 great and principal change into an aurelia, 
 or a chrysalis, as some have chosen to call it; 
 during which, as was observed, it seems to 
 remain for several days, or even months, 
 without life or motion. 
 
 Preparatory to this important change, the 
 caterpillar most usually quits the plant, or 
 the tree on which it fed ; or at least attaches 
 itself to-the stalk or the stem, more gladly 
 than the leaves. It forsakes its food, and 
 prepares, by fastiug, to undergo its transmu- 
 tation. In this period, all the food it has 
 taken is thoroughly digested ; and it often 
 voids even the internal membrane which lined 
 its intestines. 
 
 5R 
 
788 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 Some of this tribe, at this period also, are 
 seen entirely to change colour; and the 
 vivacity of the tints, in all, seems faded. 
 Those of them which are capable of spinning 
 themselves a web, set about this operation; 
 those which have already spun, await the 
 change in the best manner they are able. 
 The web or cone, with which some cover 
 themselves, hides the aurelia contained wilh- 
 in from the view ; but in others, where it is 
 more transparent, the caterpillar, when i( has 
 done spinning, strikes into it the claws of the 
 two feet under the tail, and aflerwards forces 
 in the tail itself, by contracting those claws, 
 and violently striking the feet one against the 
 other. If, however, they be taken from their 
 web at this time, they appear in a state of 
 great languor;. and. incapable of walking, re- 
 main on that spot where they are placed. In 
 this condition they remain one or two days, 
 preparing to change into an aurelia ; some- 
 what in the manner they made preparations 
 for changing their skin. They then appear 
 with their bodies bent into a bow, which they 
 now and then are seen to straighten : they 
 make no use of their legs ; but if they attempt 
 to change place, do it by the contortions of 
 their body. In proportion as their change 
 into an aurelia approaches, their body be- 
 comes more and more bent; while their ex- 
 tensions and convulsive contractions become 
 more frequent. The hinder end of the body 
 is the part which the animal first disengages 
 from its caterpillar skin; that part of the skin 
 remains empty, while the body is drawn up 
 contracledly towards the head. In the same 
 manner they disengage themselves from the 
 two succeeding rings; so that the animal is 
 then lodged entirely in the fore part of its 
 caterpillar covering: that half which is 
 abandoned, remains flaccid and empty ; while 
 the fore part, on the contrary, is swollen and 
 distended. The animal, having thus quitted 
 the hinder part of its skin, to drive itself up 
 into the fore part, still continues to heave and 
 work as before : so that the skull is soon seen 
 to burst into three pieces, and a longitudinal 
 opening is made in the three first rings of the 
 body,through which the insect thrusts forth its 
 Baked body with strong efforts. Thus at last it 
 entirely gets free from its caterpillar skin, and 
 Jbr ever forsakes its most odious reptile form. 
 
 The caterpillar, thus stripped of its skin 
 for the last. time, is now become an aurelia; 
 in which the parts of the future butterfly are 
 all visible; but in so soft a state, that the 
 smallest touch can discompose them. The 
 animal is now become helpless and mo- 
 tionless; but Oi.ly wails tor the assistance of 
 the air to dry up the moisture on Us surface, 
 and supply it wiihacrnsi capable of resisting 
 external injuries. Immediately after bring 
 stripped of its caterpillar skin, it is of a green 
 colour, especially in those parts which are 
 distended by an extraordinary afflux of ani- 
 mal moisture; but in ten or twelve hours 
 after being thus exposed, its parts harden, 
 the air forms its external covering into a firm 
 crust, and in about four and twenty hours the 
 aurelia may be handled, without endangering 
 the little animal that is thus left in so defence- 
 less a situation. Such is the history of the 
 little pod or cone that is found so common 
 by every pathway, sticking to nettles, and 
 sometimes shining like polished gold. From 
 the beautiful and resplendent colour, with 
 which it is thus sometimes adorned, some 
 authors have called it a Chrysalis, implying 
 a creature made of gold. 
 
 Such are the efforts by which these little 
 animals prepare for a state of perfection ; but 
 their care is still greater to provide th.'-m- 
 selves a secure retreat, during this season of 
 their imbecility. It would seem like erecting 
 themselves a monument, where they were to 
 rest secure, until nature had called them into 
 a new and more improved existence. For 
 this purpose, some spin themselves a cone op 
 web, in which they lie secure till they have 
 arrived at maturity : others, that cannot spin 
 so copious a covering, suspend themselves by 
 the tail, in some retreat where they are not 
 likely to meet disturbances. Some mix sand 
 with their gummy and moist w.ebs, and thus 
 make themselves a secure incrustation; while 
 others, before their change, bury themselves 
 in the ground, and thus avoid the numerous 
 dangers that might attend them. One would 
 imagine that they were conscious of the pre- 
 cise time of their continuance in their aurelia 
 state; since their little sepulchres, with re- 
 sp^ct to the solidity of the building, are pro- 
 portioned to such duration. Those that are 
 to lie in that state of existence but a few days* 
 
THE CATERPILLAR. 
 
 789 
 
 make choice of some tender leaf, which they 
 render still more pliant by diffusing a kind of 
 glue upon it : the leaf thus gradually curls up, 
 and withering us it infolds, the insect wraps 
 itself within, as in a mantle, till the genial 
 warmth of the sun enables it to struggle for 
 new life, and burst from its confinement. 
 Others, whose time of transformation is also 
 near at hand, fasu n their tails to a tree, or to 
 the first worm-hole they meet in a beam, and 
 wait in that defenceless situation. Such 
 caterpillars, on the other hand, as are seen to 
 lie several months in their aurelia state, act 
 with much greater circumspection. Most of 
 them mix their web with sand, and thus make 
 themselves a strong covering : others build in 
 wood, which serves them in the nature of a 
 coffin. Such as have made the leaves of wil- 
 lows their favourite food, break the tender 
 twigs of them first into small pieces, then 
 pound them as it were to powder ; and, by 
 means of their glutinous silk, make a kind of 
 paste, in which they wrap themselves up. 
 Many are the forms which these animals as- 
 sume in (his helpless state ; and it often hap- 
 pens, that the most deformed butterflies issue 
 from the most beautiful aurelias. 
 
 In general, however, the aurelia takes the 
 rude outline of the parts of the animal which 
 is contained within it ; but as to the various 
 colours which it is seen to assume, they are 
 rather the effect of accident ; for the same 
 species of insect docs not at all times assume 
 the same hue, when it becomes an aurelia. 
 In some, the beautiful gold colour is at one 
 time found ; in others, it is wauling. This 
 brilliant hue, which does not fall short of the 
 b ^t gililing, is formed in the same manner in 
 which we see leather obtain a gold colour, 
 though none of that metal ever enters into the 
 tincture. It is only formed by a beautiful 
 brown varnish, laid upon a white ground ; 
 and the white thus gleaming through the 
 transparency of the brown, gives a charming 
 golden yellow. These two colours are found, 
 one over the other, in the aurelia of the little 
 aniual we are describing; and the whole ap- 
 pears gil.led, without any real gilding. 
 
 The aurelia thus formed, and left to time to 
 expand into a butterfly, in some measure re- 
 sembles an animal in an egg, that is to wait 
 for external warmth to hatch it into life and 
 vigour. As the quantity of moisture, that is 
 
 enclosed within the covering of the aurelia, 
 continues to keep its body in the most tender 
 state, so it is. requisite that this humidity 
 should be dried away, before the little butter- 
 fly can burst its pris.on. Many have been the 
 experiments to prove that nature may in this 
 respect be assisted by art ; and that the life of 
 the insect may be retarded or quickened, with- 
 out doing it the smallest injury. For this 
 purpose, it is only requisite to continue the in- 
 sect in its aurelia state, by preventing the 
 evaporation of its humidity; which will con- 
 sequently add some days, nay weeks, to its 
 life : on the other hand, by evaporating its 
 moisture in a warm situation, the animal as- 
 sumes its winged s'ate before its usual time, 
 and goes through the offices assigned its ex- 
 istence. To prove this, Mr. Reaumur enclosed 
 the aurelia in a glass tube ; and found the 
 evaporated water, which exhaled from the 
 body of the insect, collected in drops at the 
 bottom of the tube : he covered the aurelia 
 with varnish ; and this making the evapora- 
 tion more difficult and slow, the butterfly was 
 two months longer than its natural term, in 
 coming out of its case : he found, on the other 
 hand, that by laying the anittial in a warm 
 room, he hastened the disclosure of the butter- 
 fly, and by keeping it in an ice-house, in the 
 same manner h-e delayed it. Warmth acted, 
 in this case, in a double capacity ; invigo- 
 rating the animal, and evaporating the mois- 
 ture. 
 
 The aurelia, though it bears a different ex- 
 ternal appearance, nevertheless contains within 
 it all the parts of the butterfly in perfect for- 
 mation ; and lying each in a very orderly 
 manner, though in the smallest compass. These, 
 however, are so fast and tender,, that it is im- 
 possible to visit without discomposing them. 
 When either by warmth, or increasing vigour, 
 the parts have acquired the necessary force 
 and solidity, the butterfly then seeks to disem- 
 barrass itself of those bands whi< h kept it so 
 long in confinement. Some insects continue 
 under the form of an aurelia not above ten 
 days ; some twenty ; some several months ; 
 and even for a year together. 
 
 The butterfly, however, does not continue 
 so long under the form of an aurelia, as one 
 would be apt to imagine. In general those 
 c -terpillars that provide themselves with cones, 
 continue within them but a few days after the 
 
790 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 cone is completely finished. Some, however, 
 reinain buried in this artificial covering for 
 eight or nine months, without taking the 
 smallest sustenance during the whole time : 
 and though in the caterpillar state no animals 
 were so voracious, when thus transformed 
 they appear a miracle of abstinence. In nil, 
 sooner or later, the butterfly bursts from its 
 prison ; not only that natural prison which 
 is formed by the skin of the aurelia, but 
 also from that artificial one of silk, or any 
 other substance in which it has enclosed itself. 
 
 The efforts which the butterfly makes to get 
 free from its aurelia state, are by no means so 
 violent as those which the insect had in chang- 
 ing from the caterpillar into the aurelia. The 
 quantity of moisture surrounding the butterfly 
 is by no means so great as that attending its 
 former change; and the shell of the aurelia 
 is so dry, that it may be cracked between the 
 fingers. 
 
 If the animal be shut up within a cone, thr 
 butterfly always gets rid of the natural inter- 
 nal skin of the aurelia, before it eats its way 
 through the external covering which its own 
 industry has formed round it. In order to 
 observe the manner in which it thus gets rid 
 of the aurelia covering, we must cut open the 
 cone, and then we shall have an opportunity 
 of discovering the insect's efforts to emanci- 
 pate itself from its natural shell. When this 
 operation begins, there seems to be a violent 
 agitation in the humours contained within the 
 little animal's body. Its fluids seem driven, 
 by an hasty fermentation, through all the ves- 
 sels ; while it labours violently with its legs, 
 arid makes several other violent struggles to 
 get free. As all these motions concur with 
 the growth of the insect's wings and body, it 
 is impossible that the brittle skin which covers 
 it should longer resist : it at length gives way, 
 by bursting into four distinct and regular 
 pieces. The skin of the head and legs first 
 separates ; then the skin at the back flies 
 open, and dividing into two regular portions, 
 disengages the back and wings : then there 
 likewise happens another rupture, in that por- 
 
 (a) These red drops, which several of the Butterfly 
 tribe discharge immediately upon their transformation, 
 have been recorded by ancient writers, as showers of 
 Wood, portending some convulsion of nature, or national 
 calamity. In the year 1608, the inhabitants of the town 
 f Aix were in the utmost consternation, in consequence 
 
 tion which covered the rings of the back of 
 the aurelia. After this, the butterfly, as if 
 fatigued with its struggles, remains very quiet 
 for some time, with its wings pointed down- 
 wards, and its legs fixed in the skin which it 
 had just thrown off. At first sight tne animal, 
 just set free, and permitted the future use of 
 its wings, seenis to want them entirely ; they 
 take up such little room, that one would 
 wonder where they were hidden. But soon 
 after they expand so rapidly, that the rye can 
 scarce attend their unfolding. From reach- 
 ing scarce half the length of the body, 
 they acquire, in a most wonderful manner, 
 their full extent and bigness, so as to be each 
 five times larger than they were before. Nor 
 is it the wings alone that arc thus increased ; 
 all their spots and paintings, before so ininutj 
 as to be scarce discernible, are proportionably 
 extended : so that what a few minutes before 
 seemed only a number of confused unmeaning 
 points, now become distinct and most beauti- 
 ful ornaments. Nor are the wings, when they 
 are thus expanded, unfolded in the manner in 
 which earwigs and grasshoppers display theirs, 
 who unfurl them like a lady's fan : on the 
 contrary, those of butterflies actually grow to 
 their natural size in this very short space. 
 The wing, at the instant it is freed from its 
 late confinement, is considerably thicker than 
 afterwards; so that it spreads in all its dimen- 
 sions, growing thinner as it becomes broader. 
 If one of the wings be plucked from the ani* 
 mal just set free, it may be spread by the fin- 
 gers, and it will soon become as broad as the 
 other which has been left behind. As the 
 wings extend themselves so suddenly, they 
 have not yet had time to dry ; and according- 
 ly appear like pieces of wet paper, soft and 
 full of wrinkles. In about half an hour they 
 are perfectly dry, their wrinkles entirely dis- 
 appear, and the little animal assumes all its 
 splendour. The transmutation being thus 
 perfectly finished, the butterfly discharges 
 three or four drops of a blood-coloured liquid, 
 which are the last remains of its superfluous 
 moisture. 8 Those aurelias which are enclosed 
 
 of a discharge of this kind, which fell in the suburbs, and 
 for some miles round. But the philosopher Pieresc soon 
 quietod their alarms, by showing them that the whole of 
 this wonder originated in a flight of harmlev; butterflies, 
 that had just taken wing from their chrysalis state, 
 
BUTTERFLIES AND MOTHS. 
 
 791 
 
 within a cone, find that exit more difficult, as 
 they have still anotiicr prison to break through: 
 this, however, they perform in a short time ; 
 for the butterfly, freed from its aurelia skin, 
 butts with its iiead violently against the walls 
 of its artificial prison ; and probably with its 
 eyes, that are rough and like a file, it rubs the 
 internal surface a\v iy ; till it is at last seen 
 bursting its way into open light ; and, in less 
 than a quarter of an hour, the animal acquires 
 its full perfection. 
 
 Thus, to use the words of Swarnmerdam, 
 we see a little insignificant creature distin- 
 guished, in its last birth, with qualifications 
 and ornaments, which man, during his stay 
 upon earth, can never even hope to acquire. 
 
 The butterfly, to enjoy life, needs no other 
 food but the dews of heaven, and the honeyed 
 juices which are distilled from every flower. 
 The" pageantry of princes cannot equal the 
 ornaments with which it is invested ; nor the 
 rich colouring that embellishes its wings. 
 The skies are the butterfly's proper habitation, 
 and the air is its element : whilst man comes 
 into the world naked, and often roves about 
 without habitation or shelter ; exposed on one 
 hand to the heat of the sun, and, on the other, 
 to the damps and exhalations of the earth ; 
 both alike enemies of his happiness and ex- 
 istence. A strong proof that, while this little ani- 
 mal is raised to its greatest height, \ve are as 
 yet in this world only candidates for perfection! 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXXVI.. 
 
 OF BUTTERFLIES AND MOTHS. 
 
 IT has been already shown, that all butter- 
 flies are bred from caterpillars; and we have ex- 
 hibited the various circumstances of that 
 surprising change. It has been remarked, 
 that butterflies may be easily distinguished 
 from flies of every other kind, by their wings : 
 for, in others, they are either transparent, 
 <|ke gauze, as we see in the common flesh fly; 
 * they are hard and crusted, as we see in the 
 .vings of the beetle. But in the butterfly, the 
 wings are soft, opake, and painted over with 
 a beautiful dust, that comes off with handling. 
 
 The number of these beautiful animals is 
 very great ; and though Linnaeus Ir.is reckon- 
 ed up above seven hundred and sixty different 
 kinds, the catalogue is still very incomplete. 
 Every collector of butterflies can show unde- 
 scribed species : and such as are fond of mi- 
 nute discovery, can here produce animals that 
 have been examined only by himself. In 
 general, however, those of the warm climates 
 are larger and mor- beautiful than such as 
 are bred at home; and <v<r can easily admit 
 the beauty of th.- 'vinei-fly, since we are thus 
 freed ff. uu^e of the r--uerpillar.. It 
 
 has been the amuse ICIH of swnp to collect 
 these ani nals from differeir parts of the world ; 
 or to breed them from caterpillars at home. 
 
 These they arrange in systematic order, or 
 dispose so' as to make striking and agreeable 
 pictures ; and .-ill must grant, that this specious 
 idleness is far preferable to that unhappy state 
 which- is produced by a total want of employ- 
 ment. 
 
 The wings of butterflies, as was observed, 
 fully distinguish them from flies of every other 
 kind. They are four in number; and though 
 two of them be cut off, the animal can fly 
 with the two others remaining. They are, in 
 their own substance, transparent ; but owe 
 their opacity to the beautiful dust with which 
 they are covered ; and which has been liken- 
 ed, by some naturalists, to the feathers of birds; 
 by others, to the scales of fishes ; as their 
 imaginations were disposed to catch the re- 
 semblance. In fact, if we regard the wing of 
 n butterfly with a good microscope, we shall 
 perceive it studded over with a variety of little 
 grains of different dimensions and forms, 
 generally supported upon a footstalk, regularly 
 laid upon the whole surface. Nothing can 
 exceed the beautiful and regular arrangement 
 of these little substances ; which thus serve to. 
 paint the butterfly's wing, like the tiU-s of a 
 house. Those of one rank are a little cover- 
 ed by those that follow : they are of many 
 
792 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 figures : on one part of the wing may be seen 
 a succession of ovi! studs; on another part, 
 a cluster of studs, each in tiie form of a heart: 
 in one place they resemble a hand open; 
 and in another they arc long or triangular; 
 while all are interspersed with taller studs, 
 that grow between the rest, like mushrooms 
 upon a stalk. The wing itself is composed 
 of several thick nerves, which render the 
 construction very strong, though light; and 
 though it be covered over with thousands of 
 these scales or studs, yet its weight is very 
 little increased by the number. The animal 
 is with ease enabled to support itself a long 
 while in air, although its flight be not very 
 graceful. When it designs to fly to a con- 
 siderable distance, it ascends and descends 
 alternately ; going sometimes to the right, 
 sometimes to the left, without any apparent 
 reason. Upon closer examination, however, 
 it will be found that it flies thus irregularly 
 in pursuit of its mate; and as dogs bait and 
 quarter the ground in pursuit of their game, 
 so these insects traverse the air in quest of' 
 their mates, whom they can discover at more 
 than a mile's distance. 
 
 If we prosecute our description of the but- 
 terfly, the animal may be divided into three 
 parts; the head, the corselet, and the body. 
 
 The body is the hinder part of the butter- 
 fly, and is composed of rings, which are gene- 
 rally concealed under long hair, with which 
 that part of the animal is clothed. The 
 corselet is more solid than the rest of the 
 body, because the fore-wings and the legs are 
 fixed therein. The legs are six in number, 
 although four only are made use of by the 
 animal ; the two fore-legs being often so 
 much concealed in the long hair of the body, 
 that it is sometimes difficult to discover them. 
 If we examine these parts internally, we shall 
 find the same set of vessels in the butterfly 
 that we observed in the caterpillar; but with 
 this great difference, that as the blood or 
 humours in the caterpillar circulated from the 
 tail to the head, they are found in the butter- 
 fly to take a direct contrary course, and to 
 circulate from the head to the tail; so that 
 the caterpillar may be considered as the em- 
 bryo animal, in which, as we have formerly 
 sen, the circulation is carried on differently 
 from what it is in animals when excluded. 
 
 But leaving the other parts of the butterfly, 
 let us turn our iilietuion pai ticulariy lo llic 
 head. The eyes ol hulterllirs have not all 
 the same form; for in smiie they are large, 
 in others small ; in some they are the larger 
 portion of a sphere, in others they are but a 
 small part of it, and just appearing from the 
 head. In all of them, however, the out ward 
 coat has a lustre, in which may be discover- 
 ed the various colours of the rainbow. When 
 examined a little closely, it will be found to 
 have the appearance of a tiiultiplying-glass; 
 having a great number of sides or facets, in 
 the manner of a brilliant cut diamond. In 
 this particular, the eye of the butterfly, and 
 of most other insects, entirely correspond ; 
 and Leuwenhoek pretends there are about 
 six thousand facets on the cornea of the flea. 
 These animals, therefore, see not only with 
 great clearness, but view every object multi- 
 plied in a surprising mariner. Puget adapted 
 the cornea of a fly in such a position, as to 
 see objects through it by the means of a mi- 
 croscope; and nothing could exceed the 
 strangeness of its representations. A soldier, 
 who was seen through it, appeared like an 
 army of pigmies; for while it multiplied, it 
 also diminished the object; the arch -of a 
 bridge exhibited a spectacle more magnificent 
 than human skill could perform; the flame of 
 a candle seemed a beautiful illumination. It 
 still, however, remains a doubt, whether the 
 insect sees objects singly, as with one eyelf 
 or whether every facet is itself a cornpljfi 
 eye, exhibiting its own object distinct from 
 all the rest. 
 
 Butterflies, as well as most other flying in- 
 sects, have two instruments, like horns, on 
 their heads, which are commonly called 
 feelers. They differ from the horns of greater 
 animals, in being moveable at their base; 
 and in having a great number of joints, by 
 which means the insect is enabled to turn 
 them in every direction. Those of butterflies 
 are placed at the top of the head, pretty 
 near the external edge of eye. What the 
 use of these instruments may be which are 
 thus formed with so much art, and by a 
 WORKMAN who does nothing without reason, 
 is as yet unknown to man. They may serve 
 to guard the eye ; they may be of use to 
 clean it ; or they may be the organ of some 
 
BUTTERFLIES AND MOTHS. 
 
 793 
 
 sense which we are ignorant of: but this is 
 only explaining one difficult by another. 
 We "are not so ignorant of the uses ol the 
 trunk, which few insects of the butterfly kind 
 are without. This instrument is placed ex- 
 actly between the eyes ; and when the ani- 
 mal is not employed in seeking its nourish- 
 ment, it is rolled up like a curl. A butterfly 
 when it is feeding, flies round some flower, 
 and settles upon it. The trunk is then un- 
 curled, and thrust out either wholly or in 
 part; and is employed in searching the flower 
 to its very bottom, let it be ever so deep. 
 This search being repeated seven or eight 
 times, the butterfly then passes to another; 
 and continues to hover over those agreeable 
 to its taste, like a bird over its prey. This 
 trunk consists of two equal hollow tubes, 
 nicely joined to each other, like the pipes of 
 an organ. 
 
 Such is the figure and conformation of 
 these beautiful insects, that cheer our walks, 
 and give us the earliest intimations of sum- 
 mer. But it is not by day alone that they are 
 seen fluttering wantonly from flower to flower, 
 as the greatest number of them fly by night, 
 and expand the most beautiful colouring at 
 those hours when there is no spectator. 
 This tribe of insects has, therefore, been 
 divided into Diurnal and Nocturnal Flies ; 
 or, more properly speaking, into Butterflies 
 and Moths : the one flying only by day, the 
 other most usually on the wing in the night. 
 They may be easily distinguished from each 
 other, by their horns or feelers: those of the 
 butterfly being clubbed or knobbed at the 
 end ; those of the moth tapering finer and 
 fi.K>r to a point. To express it technically 
 the feelers of butterflies are clavated : those 
 of moths are filiform. 
 
 The butterflies, as well as the moths, em- 
 plov the short life assigned them in a variety 
 of ijoyrnents. Their whole time is spent 
 eit'ier in quest of food, which every flower 
 offers; or in pursuit of the female, whose ap- 
 proach they can often perceive at two miles' 
 distance. Their sagacity in this particular 
 is not less astonishing than true; but by what 
 sense they are 'thus capable of distinguish- 
 ing each other at such -^fauces, is not en*y 
 to conceive. It t. not l>" by the sight, since 
 such small objects as they are must be utter- 
 
 ly imperceptible at half the distance at which 
 they perceive each IK her: it can scarcely be 
 by the sense of smelling, since the animal has 
 no organs for that purpose. Whatever be 
 their powers of perception, certain it is, that 
 the male, after having fluttered, as if care- 
 lessly about for some time, is seen to take 
 wing, and go forward, sometimes for t\vo 
 miles together, in a direct line, to where the 
 female is perched on a flower. 
 
 The general rule among insects is, that the 
 female is larger than the male; and this ob- 
 tains particularly in the tribe I am describing. 
 The body of the male is smaller and slen- 
 derer; that of the female more thick and oval. 
 Previous to the junction of these animal?, 
 they are seen sporting in the air, pursuing 
 and flying from each other, and preparing, by 
 a mock combat, for the more important busi- 
 ness of their lives. If they be disturbed while 
 united, the female flies off with the male on 
 her back, who seems entirely passive upon 
 the occasion. 
 
 But the females of many moths and butter- 
 flies seem to have assumed their airy irrm 
 for no other reason but to fecundate their 
 egg?, and lay them. They are not seen flut- 
 tering about in quest of food or a mate: all 
 that passes during their short lives, is a junc- 
 tion with the male of about half an hour; 
 after which they deposite their eggs, and die, 
 without taking any nourishment, or seeking- 
 any. It may be observed, however, that in 
 all the females of this tribe, they are impreg- 
 nated by the male by one aperture, and lay 
 their eggs by another. 
 
 The eggs of female butterflies are disposed^ 
 in the body like a bed of chaplets; which, 
 when excluded, are usually oval, and of a 
 whitish colour : some, however, are quite 
 round; and others, flatted, like a turnip. 
 The covering, or shell of the egg, though 
 solid, is thin and transparent; and in propor- 
 tion as the caterpillar grows within the egg, 
 the colours change, and are distributed dif- 
 ferently. The butterfly seems very well in- 
 structed by nature in its choice of the pl:vit, 
 or the leaf, where it shall deposite its burden. 
 E eh egg contains but one caterpillar; and 
 it <8 requisite that this litile animal, when ex- 
 clude \, should be nearits peculiir provision. 
 The butterfly, therefore, is careful to place 
 
794 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 her brood only upon those plants that afford 
 good nourishment to its posterity. Though 
 the little winged animal has been fed itself 
 upon dew, or the honey of flowers, yet it 
 makes choice for its young of a very different 
 provision, and lays its eggs on the most un- 
 savoury plants; the rag-weed, the cabbage, 
 or the nettle. Thus every butterfly chooses 
 not the plant most grateful to it in its \vinged 
 state; but such as it has fed upon in its- rep- 
 tile form. 
 
 All the eggs of butterflies are attached to 
 the leaves of the favourite plant, by a sort of 
 size or glue; where they continue unobserv- 
 ed, unless carefully sought after. The eggs 
 are sometimes placet round the tender shoots 
 of plants, in the form of bracelets, consisting 
 of above two hundred in each, and generally 
 surrounding the shoot like a ring upon a fin- 
 ger. Some butterflies secure their eggs from 
 
 the injuries of air, by covering them with hair 
 plucked from their own bodies, as birds s-ome- 
 times are seen to make their nests; so that 
 their eggs are thus kept warm, and also en- 
 tirely concealed. 
 
 All the tribe of female moths lay their eggs 
 a short time after they leave the aurelia ; bnt 
 there are many butterflies that flutter about 
 the whole summer, and do not think of laying. 
 till the winter begins to warn them of their 
 approaching end : some even continue the 
 whole winter in the hollows of trees, and do 
 not provide for posterity until the beginning 
 of April, when they leave their retreats, de- 
 posite their eggs, and die. Their eggs soon 
 begin to feel the genial influence of the sea- 
 son : the little animals burst from them in 
 their caterpillar state, to become aurelias and 
 butterflies in their turn, and thus to continue 
 the round of nature. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 OF THE ENEMIES OF THE CATERPILLAR. 
 
 NATURE, though it has rendered some 
 animals surprisingly fruitful, yet ever takes 
 care to prevent their too great increase. 
 One set of creatures is generally opposed to 
 another : and those are chiefly the most pro- 
 lific that are, from their imbecility, incapable 
 of making any effectual defence. The cater- 
 pillar has, perhaps, of all other animals, the 
 greatest number of enemies ; and seems only 
 to exist by its surprising fecundity. Some 
 animals devour them by hundreds; others, 
 more minute, yet more dangerous, mangle 
 them in various ways : so that, how great 
 soever their numbers may be, their destroyers 
 are in equal proportion. Indeed, if we con- 
 sider the mischiefs these reptiles are capable 
 of occasioning, and the various damages we 
 sustain from their insatiable rapacity, it is 
 happy for the other ranks of nature, that 
 there are thousands of fishes, birds, and even 
 insects, that live chiefly upon caterpillars, 
 and make them their most favourite repast. 
 
 When we described the little birds that 
 
 live in our gardens, and near our houses, as 
 destructive neighbours, sufficient attention 
 was not paid to the services which they are 
 frequently found to render us. It has been 
 proved, that a single sparrow and its mate, 
 that have young ones, destroy above three 
 thousand caterpillars in a week ; not to men- 
 tion several butterflies, in which numberless 
 caterpillars are destroyed in embryo. It is 
 in pursuit of these reptiles that \ve are favour- 
 ed with the visits of many of our most beau- 
 tiful songsters, that amuse us during their 
 continuance, and leave us when the caterpil- 
 lars disappear. 
 
 The maxim which has often been urged 
 against man, that he, of all other animals, is 
 the only creature that is an enemy to his own 
 kind, and that the human species only are 
 found to destroy each other, has been adopt- 
 ed by persons who never considered the his- 
 tory of insects. Some of the caterpillar kind 
 in p-.r'icular, that seem fitted only to live 
 upou leaves and plants, will, however, eat 
 
THE ENEMIES OF THE CATERPILLAR. 
 
 each other; and the strongest will devour the 
 weak, in preference to their vegetable food. 
 That which lives upon the oak is found to 
 seize any of its companions, which it con- 
 veniently can, by the first rings, and indict a 
 deadly wound: it then feasts in tranquillity 
 on its prey, and leaves nothing of the animal 
 but the husk. 
 
 But it is not from each other they have the 
 most to fear, as in general they are inoffen- 
 sive j and many of this tribe are found to live 
 in a kind of society. Many kinds of Hies lay 
 their eggs either upon, or within their bodies; 
 and, as these turn into worms, the caterpillar 
 is seen to nourish a set of intestine enemies 
 within its body, that must shortly be its de- 
 struction : nature having taught tlies, as well 
 as all other animals, the surest methods of 
 perpetuating their kind. "Towards the end 
 of August," says Reaumur, "I perceived a 
 little fly, of a beautiful gold colour, busily 
 employed in the body of a large caterpillar, 
 of that kind which feeds upon cabbage. I 
 gently separated that part of the leaf on which 
 these insects were placed, from the rest of 
 the plant, and placed it where I might ob 
 serve them more at my ease. The fly, wholly 
 taken up by the business in which it was em- 
 ployed, walked along the caterpillar's body, 
 now and then remaining fixed to a particular 
 spot. Upon this occasion, I perceived it 
 every now and then dart a sting, which it 
 carried at the end of its tail, into the cater- 
 pillar's body, and then drew it out again, to 
 repeat the same operation in another place. 
 It was not difficult for me to conjecture the 
 business which engaged this animal so ear- 
 nestly ; its whole aim was to deposite its eggs 
 in the caterpillar's body; which was to serve 
 as a proper retreat for bringing them to per- 
 fection. The reptile thus rudely treated, 
 seemed to bear all very patiently, only moving 
 a little when stung too deeply; which, how- 
 ever, the fly seemed entirely to disregard. 
 1 took particular care to feed this caterpillar; 
 which seemed to me to continue as voracious 
 and vigorous as any of the rest of its kind. 
 In about ten or twelve days, it changed into 
 an aurelia, which seemed gradually to de- 
 cline, and died : upon examining its internal 
 parts, the animal was entirely devoured by 
 worms ; whichv however, did not come to per- 
 
 yo. 6~ & 68. 
 
 fection, as it is probable they had not enough 
 to sustain them within." 
 
 What the French philosopher perceived 
 upon this occasion, is every day to be seen 
 in several of the larger kinds of caterpillars, 
 whose bodies serve as a nest to various flies, 
 that very carefully deposite their eggs within 
 them. The large cabbage caterpillar is so 
 subject to ils injuries, that, at certain seasons, 
 it in much easier to find them with than with- 
 out them. The ichneumon lly, as it is called, 
 particularly infests these reptiles,and prevents 
 their fecundity. This fly is of all others the 
 most formidable to insects of various kinds. 
 The spider, that destroys the ant, the moth, 
 and the butterfly, yet often falls a prey to the 
 ichneumon ; who pursues the robber to his 
 retreat, and, despising his nets, tears him in 
 pieces, in the very labyrinth he has made. 
 This insect, as redoubtable as the little quad- 
 ruped that destroys the crocodile, has receiv- 
 ed the same name ; and from its destruction 
 of the caterpillar tribe, is probably more 
 serviceable to mankind. This insect, I say, 
 makes the body of the caterpillar the place 
 for depositing its eggs, to the number of ten, 
 fifteen, or twenty. As they are laid in those 
 parts which are riot mortal, the reptile still 
 continues to live and to feed, showing no signs 
 of being incommoded by its new guests. 
 The caterpillar changes its skin ; and some- 
 times undergoes the great change into an 
 aurelia : but still the fatal intruders work 
 within, and secretly devour its internal sub- 
 stance: soon after they are seen bursting 
 through its skin, and moving away, in order 
 to spin themselves a covering, previous to 
 their own little transformation. It is indeed 
 astonishing sometimes to see the number of 
 Avorrns, and those pretty large, that thus issue 
 from the body of a single caterpillar, and eat 
 their way through its skin : but it is more ex- 
 traordinary still, that they should remain 
 within the body, devouring its entrails, with- 
 out destroying its life. The truth is, they 
 seem instructed by nature not to devour its 
 vital parts; for they are found to feed only 
 upon that fatty substance which composes the 
 largest part of the caterpillar's body. When 
 this surprising appearance was first observed, 
 it was supposed that the animal thus gave 
 birth to a number of flies different from itself; 
 
 5S 
 
796 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 and that the same caterpillar sometimes bred Jj tion it was discovered, that the ichneumon 
 an ichneumon, and sometimes a butterfly; tribe were not the caterpillar's ol 
 but it was not till after more careful inspec- jj but its murderers. 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXXVHI. 
 
 OF THE SILKWORM. 
 
 HAVING mentioned, in the last chapter, 
 the damages inflicted by the caterpillar tribe, 
 we now come to an animal of this kind, that 
 alone compensates for all the mischief occa- 
 sioned by the rest. This little creature, 
 which only works for itself, has been made 
 of the utmost service toman; and furnishes 
 him with a covering more beautiful than any 
 other animal can supply. We may declaim 
 indeed against the luxuries of the times, when 
 silk is so generally worn ; but were such gar- 
 ments to fail, what other arts could supply 
 the deficiency ? 
 
 Though s'llk was anciently brought in small 
 quantities to Rome, yet it was so scarce as 
 to be sold for its weight in gold ; and was 
 considered as such a luxurious refinement in 
 dress, that it was infamous for a man to ap- 
 pear in habits of which silk formed but half 
 the composition. It was most probably 
 brought among them from the remotest parts 
 of the East ; since it was, at the time of which 
 I am speaking, scarcely known even in 
 Persia. 
 
 Nothing can be more remote from the 
 truth, than the manner in which their histo- 
 rians describe the animal by which silk is 
 produced. Pausanias informs us, that silk 
 came from the country of the Seres, a people 
 of Asiatic Scythia ; in which place an insect 
 as large as the beetle, but in every other re- 
 spect resembling a spider, was bred up for 
 that purpose. They take great care, as he 
 assures us, to feed and defend it from the 
 weather; as well during the summer's heat, 
 as the rigours of winter. This insect, he ob- 
 serves, makes its web with its feet, of which 
 it has eight in number. It is fed for the space 
 of four years upon a kind of paste, prepared 
 for it ; and at the beginning of the fifth, it is 
 
 supplied with the leaves of the green willow, 
 of which it is particularly fond. It then feeds 
 till it bursts with fat ; after which they take 
 out its bowels, which are spun into the beau- 
 tiful manufacture so scarce and costly. 
 
 The real history of this animal was un- 
 known among the Romans till the time of 
 Justinian; and it is supposed, that silkworms 
 were not brought into Europe till the be- 
 ginning of the twelfth century ; when Roger 
 of Sicily brought workmen in this manufac- 
 ture from Asia Minor, after his return from 
 his expedition to the Holy Land, and settled 
 them in Sicily and Calabria. From these the 
 other kingdoms of Europe learned this manu- 
 facture ; and it is now one of the most lucra- 
 tive carried on among the southern provinces 
 of Europe. 
 
 The silkworm is now very well known 
 to be a large caterpillar, of a whitish 
 colour, with twelve feet, and producing a 
 butterfly of the moth kind. The cone on 
 which it spins, is formed for covering it while 
 it continues in the aurelia state; and several 
 of these, properly wound off, and united to- 
 gether, form those strong and beautiful threads, 
 which are woven into silk. The feeding 
 these worms, the gathering, the winding, the 
 twisting, and the weaving their silk, is one of 
 the principal manufactures of Europe; and, 
 as our luxuries increase, seems every day to 
 become more and more necessary to human 
 happiness. 
 
 There are two methods of breeding silk- 
 worms; for they may be left to grow,. and to 
 remain at liberty upon the trees where they 
 are hatched ; or they may be kept in a place, 
 built for that purpose, and fed every day with 
 fresh leaves. The first method is used in 
 China, Tonquin, and other hot countries} 
 
THE SILKWORM. 
 
 797 
 
 the other is used in those places where the 
 animal has been artificially propagated, and 
 still continues a stranger. In the warm cli- 
 mates, the silkworm proceeds from an egg, 
 which has been glued by the parent moth 
 upon proper parts of the mulberry-tree, and 
 which remains in that situation during the 
 winter. The manner in which . they are 
 situated and fixed to the tree, keeps them 
 unaffected by the influence of the weather; 
 so that those frosts which are severe enough 
 to kill the tree, have no power to injure the 
 silkworm. 
 
 The insect never proceeds from the egg 
 till nature has provided it a sufficient supply; 
 and till the budding leaves are furnished, in 
 sufficient abundance, for its support. When 
 the leaves are put forth, the worms seem to 
 feel the genial summons, and, bursting from 
 their little eggs, crawl upon the leaves, where 
 they feed wilh a most voracious appetite. 
 Thus they become larger by degrees ; and 
 after some months' feeding, they lay, upon 
 every leaf, small bundles or cones of silk, 
 which appear like so many golden apples, 
 painted on a fine green ground. Such is the 
 method of breeding them in the East; and 
 without doubt it is best for the worms, and 
 least troublesome for the feeder of them. 
 But it is otherwise in our colder European 
 climates ; the frequent changes of the wea- 
 ther, and the heavy dews of our evenings, 
 render the keeping them all night exposed, 
 subject to so many inconveniences, as to ad- 
 mit of no remedy. It is true, that, by the as- 
 sistance of nets, they may be preserved from 
 the insults of birds ; but the severe cold wea- 
 ther, which often succeeds the first heats of 
 summer, as well as the rain and high winds, 
 will destroy them all: and, therefore, to breed 
 them in Europe, they must be sheltered and 
 protected from every external injury. 
 
 For this purpose, a room is chosen, with a 
 south aspect; and the windows are so well 
 glazed, as not to admit the least air: the 
 walls are well built, and the planks of the 
 floor exceedingly close, so as to admit neither 
 birds nor mice, nor even so much as an insect. 
 In the middle there should be four pillars 
 erected, or four wooden posts, so placed as 
 to form a pretty large squire. Between 
 these are different stories made with osier 
 
 hurdles; and under each hurdle there should 
 be a floor, with an upright border all round. 
 These hurdles and floors must hang upon 
 pulleys, so as to be placed or taken down at 
 pleasure. 
 
 When the worms are hatched, some tender 
 mulberry leaves are provided, and placed in 
 the cloth or paper-box in which the eggs 
 were laid, and which are large enough to 
 hold a great number. When they have ac- 
 quired some strength, they must be distri- 
 buted on beds of mulberry leaves, in the dif- 
 ferent stories of the square in the middle of 
 the room, round which a person may freely 
 pass on every side. They will fix themselves 
 to the leaves, and afterwards to the sticks of 
 the hurdles, when the leaves are devoured. 
 They have then a thread, by which they can 
 suspend themselves on occasion, to prevent 
 any shock by a fall ; but this is by no means 
 to be considered as the silk which they spin 
 afterwards in such abundance. Care must 
 be taken that fresh leaves be brought every 
 morning, which must be strewed very gently 
 and equally over them ; upon which the silk- 
 worms will forsake the remainder of the old 
 leaves, which must be carefully taken away, 
 and every thing kept very clean; for nothing 
 hurts these insects so much as moisture and 
 uncleanliness. For this reason their leaves 
 must be gathered when the weather is dry, 
 and kept in a dry place, if it be necessary to 
 lay in a store. As these animals have but a 
 short time to live, they make use of every 
 moment, and almost continually are spinning, 
 except at those intervals when they change 
 their skins. If mulberry leaves be difficult 
 to be obtained, the leaves of lettuce, or holy- 
 oak will sustain them ; but they do not thrive 
 so well upon their new diet; and their silk 
 will neither be so copious, nor of so good a 
 quality. 
 
 Though the judicious choice and careful 
 management of their diet is absolutely neces- 
 sary, yet there is another precaution of equal 
 importance; which is, to give them air, and 
 open their chamber windows, at such times 
 as the sun shines warmest. The place also 
 must be kept as clean as possible; not 
 only the several floors that are laid to re- 
 ceive their ordure, but the whole apart 
 ments in general. These things well ob- 
 
 5-S* 
 
798 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 served, contribute greatly to their health and 
 increase. 
 
 The worm, at the time it bursts the shell, is 
 extremely small, and of a black colour ; but 
 the head is of a more shining black than the 
 rest of the body : some days after, they begin 
 to turn whitish, or of an ash-coloured gray. 
 After rhe skin begins to grow too rigid, or the 
 animal is stinted within it, the insect throws 
 it off, and appears clothed anew : it then be- 
 comes larger, and much whiter, though it has 
 a greenish cast ; after some days, which are 
 more or less, according to the different heat of 
 the climate, or to the quality of the food, it 
 leaves off eating, and seems to sleep for two 
 days together : then it begins to stir, and put 
 itself into violent motions, till the skin falls off 
 the second time, and is thrown aside by the 
 animal's feet. All these changes are made in 
 three weeks or a month's time ; after which 
 it begins to feed once more, still in its cater- 
 pillar form, but a good deal differing from it- 
 self before its change, In a few days' time it 
 seems to sleep again ; and, when it awakes, it 
 again changes its clothing, and continues feed- 
 ing as before. When it has thus taken a suf- 
 ficiency of food, and its parts are disposed for 
 assuming the aurelia form, the animal forsakes, 
 for the last time, all food and society, and pre- 
 pares itself a retreat to defend it from external 
 injuries, while it is seemingly deprived of life 
 and motion. 
 
 This retreat is no other than its cone, or 
 ball of silk, which nature has taught it to com- 
 pose with great art; and within which it 
 buries itself, till it assumes its winged form. 
 This cone or ball is spun from too little long- 
 ish kinds of bags that lie above the intestines, 
 and are filled with a gummy fluid, of a mari- 
 gold colour. This is the substance of which 
 the threads are formed ; and the little animal 
 is furnished with a surprising apparatus for 
 spinning it to the degree of fineness which its 
 occasions may require. This instrument in 
 some measure resembles a wire-drawer's 
 machine, in which gold or silver threads are 
 drawn to any degree of minuteness ; and 
 through this the animal draws its thread with 
 great assiduity. As every thread proceeds 
 from two gum-bags, it is probable that each 
 applies Us own ; which, however, are united, 
 as they proceed from the animal's body. If 
 we examine the thread with a microscope, it 
 
 will be found that it is flatted on one side* 
 and grooved along its length : from hence we 
 may infer, that it is doubled just upon leaving 
 the body ; and that the two threads stick to 
 each other by that gummy quality of which 
 they are possessed. Previous to spinning its 
 web, the silkworm seeks out some convenient 
 place to erect its cell, without any obstruction. 
 When it has found a leaf, or a chink fitted to 
 its purpose, it begins to wreath its head in 
 every direction, and fastens its thread on every 
 side to the sides of its retreat. Though all its 
 first essays seem perfectly confused, yet they 
 are not altogether without design : there ap- 
 pears, indeed, no order or contrivance in the 
 disposal of its first threads : they are by no 
 means laid artfully over each other, but arc 
 thrown out at random, to serve as an exter- 
 nal shelter against rain ; for nature having 
 appointed the animal to work upon trees in 
 the open air, its habits remain, though it is 
 brought up in a warm apartment. 
 
 Malpighi pretends to have observed six dif- 
 ferent layers in a single cone of silk ; but 
 what may easily be observed is, that it is com- 
 posed externally of a kind of rough cotton- 
 like substance, which is called floss ; within, 
 the thread is more distinct and even ; and 
 next the body of the aurelia, the apartment 
 seems lined with a substance of the hardness 
 of paper, but of a much stronger consistence. 
 It must not be supposed, that the thread which 
 goes to compose the cone, is rolled round, as 
 we roll a bottom ; on the contrary, it lies upon 
 it in a very irregular manner, and winds off 
 now from one side of the cone, and then from 
 the other. This whole thread, if measured, 
 will be found about three hundred yards long ; 
 and so very fine, that eight or ten of them are 
 generally rolled off into one by the manufac- 
 turers. The cone, when completed, is in form 
 like a pigeon's egg, and more pointed at one 
 end than the other: at the smaller end, the 
 head of the aurelia is generally found ; and 
 this is the place that the insect, when con- 
 vrrted into a moth, is generally seen to burst 
 through. 
 
 It is generally a fortnight or three weeks 
 before the aurelia is changed into a moth ; 
 but no sooner is the winged insect completely 
 formed, than having divested itself of its 
 aurelia skin, it prepares to burst through its 
 cone, or outward prison s for this purpose it 
 
THE SILKWORM. 
 
 799 
 
 extends its head towards the point of the 
 cone, butts with its eyes, which are rough, 
 against the lining of its cell, wears it away, 
 and at last pushes forward, through a passage 
 which is small at first, but which enlarges as 
 the animal increases its efforts for emancipa- 
 tion; while the tattered remnants ofitsaurelia 
 skin lie in confusion within the cone, like a 
 bundle of dirty linen. 
 
 The animal, when thus set free from its 
 double confinement, appears exhausted with 
 fatigue, and seems produced for no other 
 purpose but to transmit a future brood. It 
 neither flies nor eats ; the male only seeking 
 the female, whose eggs he impregnates ; and 
 their union continues for four days, without 
 interruption. The male dies immediately 
 after separation from his mate ; and she sur- 
 vives him only till she has laid her eggs, 
 which are not hatched into worms till the 
 ensuing spring. 
 
 However, there are few of these animals 
 suffered to come to a state of maturity ; for 
 as their bursting through the cone destroys 
 the silk, the manufacturers take care to kill 
 the aurelia, by exposing it to the sun, before 
 the moth cotnes to perfection. This done, 
 they take off the floss, and throw the cones 
 into warm water, stirring them till the first 
 thread offers them a clue for winding all off! 
 They generally take eight of the silken 
 threads together; the cones being still kept 
 under water, till a proper quantity of the silk 
 is wound off: however, they do not take all ; 
 for the latter parts grow weak, and are of a 
 bad colour. As to the paper-like substance 
 which remains, some stain it with a variety 
 of colours, to make artificial flowers; others 
 let it lie in the water, till the glutinous matter 
 which cements it is all dissolved : it is then 
 carded like wool, spun with a wheel, and 
 converted into silk stuffs of an inferior kind. 
 
800 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 or INSECTS or THE FOURTH ORDER. 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXX1X. 
 
 OF THE FOURTH ORDER OF INSECTS IN GENERAL. 
 
 IN the foregoing part we treated of cater- 
 pillars changing into butterflies; in the pre- 
 sent will be given the history of grubs chang- 
 ing into their corresponding winged animals. 
 These, like the former, undergo their trans- 
 formation, and appear as grubs or maggots, 
 as aurelias, and at last as winged insects. 
 Like the former, they are bred from eggs ; 
 they feed in their reptile state; they continue 
 motionless and lifeless, as aurelias ; and fly 
 and propagate, when furnished with wings. 
 But they differ in many respects : the grub 
 or maggot wants the number of feet which 
 the caterpillar is seen to have; theaureliais 
 not so totally wrapped up, but that its feet 
 and its wings appear. The perfect animal, 
 when emancipated, also has its wings either 
 cased, or transparent like gauze; not colour- 
 ed with that beautifully painted dust which 
 adorns the wings of the butterfly. 
 
 In this class of insects, therefore, we may 
 place a various tribe, that are first laid as 
 eggs, then are excluded as maggots or grubs, 
 then change into aurelias, with their legs and 
 wings not wrapped up, but appearing; and, 
 lastly, assuming wings, in which state they 
 propagate their kind. Some of these have 
 four transparent wings, as bees ; some have 
 two membranous -cases to their wings, as 
 beetles ; and some have but two wings, which 
 are transparent, as ants. Here, therefore, 
 we will place the bee, the wasp, the humble- 
 bee, the ichneumon fly, the gnat, the tipula 
 or longlegs, the beetle, the may-bug, the 
 glow-worm, and the ant. The transforma- 
 tions which all these undergo, are pretty 
 nearly similar; and though very different ani- 
 mals in form, are yet produced nearly in the 
 same manner. 
 
 CHAPTER CXC. 
 
 OF THE BEE. 
 
 TO give a complete history of this insect 
 in a few pages, which some have exhausted 
 volumes in describing, and whose nature and 
 properties still continue in dispute, is impos- 
 sible. It will be sufficient to give a general 
 idea of the animal's operations; which, though 
 they have been studied for more than two 
 thousand years, are still but incompletely 
 
 known. The account given us by Reaumur 
 is sufficiently minute; and 1 , if true, sufficient- 
 ly wonderful : but I find many of the facts 
 which he relates, doubted by those who are 
 most conversant with bees ; and some of 
 them actually declared not to have a real ex- 
 istence in nature. 
 
 It is unhappy, therefore, for those whose 
 
THE BEE. 
 
 801 
 
 method demands a history of bees, that they 
 are unfurnished with those materials which 
 have induced so many observers to contradict 
 so great a naturalist His life was spent in 
 the contemplation; and it requires an equal 
 share of attention, to prove the error of his 
 discoveries. Without entering, therefore, 
 into the dispute, I will take him for my guide; 
 and just mention, as f go along, those parti* 
 culars in which succeeding observers have 
 begun to think him erroneous. Which of 
 the two are right, time only can discover; 
 for my part, I have only heard one side, for 
 as yet none have been so bold as openly to 
 oppose Reaumur's delightful researches. 
 
 There are three different kinds of bees in 
 every hive. First, the labouring bees, which 
 make up the far greatest number, and are 
 thought to be neither male nor female, but 
 merely born for the purposes of labour, and 
 continuing the breed, by supplying the 
 young with provision, while yet in their help- 
 less state. The second sort are the drones; 
 they are of a darker colour, longer, and more 
 thick by one-third than the former; they are 
 supposed to be the males; and there is not 
 above a hundred of them in a hive of seven 
 or eight thousand bees. The third sort is 
 much larger than either of the former, and 
 stil! fewer in number; some assert that there 
 is not above one in every swarm: but this 
 later observers affirm not to be true, there 
 being sometimes five or six in the same hive. 
 These are called queen bees, and are said to 
 lay all the eggs from which the whole swarm 
 is hatched in a season. 
 
 In examining the structure of the Common 
 working bee, the first remarkable part that 
 offers is the trunk, which serves to extract 
 the honey from flowers. It is not formed, 
 tike that of other flies, in the manner of a 
 tube, by which the fluid is to be sucked up; 
 but like a besom to sweep, or a tongue to 
 lick it away. The animal is furnished also 
 with teeth, which serve it in making wax. 
 This substance is gathered from flowers, like 
 honey ; it consists of that dust or farina which 
 contribute to the fecundation of plants, and 
 is moulded into wax by the little animal at 
 leisure. Every bee, when it Iv-ives th" hive 
 to -'ollect this precious sto>- enter?, into the 
 cup of the flower, particularly such as seem 
 
 charged with the greatest quantities of this 
 yellow farina. As the animal's body is cover- 
 ed over with hair, it rolls itself within the 
 flower, and soon becomes quite covered with 
 the dust, which it soon after brushes off with 
 its two hind-legs, and kneads into two little 
 balls. In the thighs of the hind-legs there 
 are two cavities, edged with hair, and into 
 these, as into a basket, the animal sticks its 
 pellets. Thus employed, the bee flies from 
 flower to flower, increasing its store, and 
 adding to its stock of wax; until the ball 
 upon each thigh becomes as big as a grain of 
 pepper: by this time, having got a sufficient 
 load, it returns, making the best of its way to 
 the hive. 
 
 The belly of the bee is divided into six 
 rings, which sometimes shorten the body, by 
 slipping one over the other. It contains 
 within it, beside the intestines, the honey-bag, 
 the venom-bag, and the sting. The honey- 
 bag is as transparent as crystal, containing 
 the honey that the bee has brushed from the 
 flowers; of which the greater part is carried 
 to the hive, and poured into the cells of the 
 honey-comb, while the remainder serves for 
 the bee's own nourishment; for during sum- 
 mer, it never touches what has been laid up 
 for winter. The sting which serves to defend 
 this little animal from its enemies, is composed 
 of three pnrts; the sheath and two darts, 
 which are extremely small and penetrating. 
 Both the darts have several small points or 
 barbs, like those of a fish-hook, which render 
 the sting more painful, and makes the darts 
 rankle in the wound. Still, however, this in- 
 strument would be very slight, did not the 
 bee poison the wound. The sheath, which 
 has a sharp point, makes the first impression; 
 which is followed by that of the darts, and 
 then the venomous liquor is poured in. The 
 sheath sometimes sticks so fast in the wound, 
 that the animal is obliged to leave it behind ; 
 by which the bee soon after dies, and the 
 wound is considerably inflamed. It might at 
 first appear well for mankind, if the bee were 
 without its sting; but, upon recollection, it 
 will be found, that the little animal would 
 then have too many rivals in sharing its 
 labours. A hundred other lazy animals fond 
 of honey, and hating labour, would intrude 
 upon the sweets of the hive ; and the treasure 
 
 
802 
 
 A HISTORY OP 
 
 would be carried off for want of armed guar- 
 dians to protect it. 
 
 From examining the bee singly, we now 
 corne to consider it in society, as an animal 
 not only subject to laws, but active, vigilant, 
 laborious, and disinterested. All its provi- 
 sions are laid up for the community ; and all 
 its arts in building a cell, designed for the 
 benefit of posterity. The substance with 
 which bees build their cells is wax ; which is 
 fashioned into convenient apartments for them- 
 selves and their young. When they begin to 
 work in their hives, they divide themselves 
 into four companies : one of which roves in 
 the fields in search of materials ; another em- 
 ploys itself in laying out the bottom and par- 
 titions of their cells ; a third is employed in 
 making the inside smooth from the corners 
 and angles; and the fourth company bring 
 food for the rest, or relieve those who return 
 with their respective burdens. But they are 
 not kept constant to one employment ; they 
 often change the tasks assigned them : those 
 that have been at work, being permitted to go 
 abroad ; and those that have been in the fields 
 already, take their places. They seem even 
 to have signs, by which they understand each 
 other ; for when any of them wants food, it 
 bends down its trunk to the bee from whom 
 it is expected, which then opens its honey-bag, 
 and lets some drops fall into the other's mouth, 
 which is at that time open to receive it. Their 
 diligence and labour is so great, that in a day's 
 time they are able to make cells, that lie upon 
 each other, numerous enough to contain three 
 thousand bees. 
 
 If we examine their cells, they will be 
 found formed in the exactest proportion. It 
 was said by Pappus, an ancient geometrician, 
 that, of all other figures, hexagons were the 
 most convenient ; for when placed touching 
 each other, the most convenient room would 
 be given, and the smallest lost. The cells of 
 the bees are perfect hexagons : these, in every 
 honey-comb, are double, opening on either 
 side, and closed at the bottom. The bottoms 
 are composed of little triangular panes, which, 
 when united together, terminate in a point, 
 and lie exactly upon the extremities of other 
 panes of the same shape, in opposite cells. 
 These lodgings have spaces, like streets, be- 
 tween them, large enough to give the bees a 
 free passage in aud out ; and yet narrow 
 
 enough to preserve the necessary heat. The 
 mouth of every cell is defended by a border, 
 which makes the door a little less than the 
 inside of the cell, which serves to strengthen 
 the whole. These cells serve for different 
 purposes: for laying up their young; for their 
 wax, which in winter becomes a part of their 
 food ; and for their honey, which makes their 
 principal subsistence. 
 
 It is well known that the habitation of bees 
 ought to be very close ; and what their hives 
 want, from the negligence or unskilfulness of 
 man, these animals supply by their own indus- 
 try : so that it is their principal care, when 
 first hived, to stop up all the crannies. For 
 this purpose they make use of a resinous gum, 
 which is more tenacious than wax, and dif- 
 fers greatly from it. This the ancients called 
 propolis: it will grow considerably hard in 
 June; though it will in some measure soften 
 by heat ; and is often found different in con- 
 sistence, colour, and smell. It has generally 
 an agreeable aromatic odour when it is warm- 
 ed ; and by some it is considered as a most 
 grateful perfume. When the bees begin to 
 work with it, it is soft, but it acquires a firmer 
 consistence every day; till at length it assumes 
 a brown colour, and becomes much harder 
 than wax. The bees carry it on their hinder 
 legs ; and some think it is met with on the 
 birch, the willow, and poplar. However it is 
 procured, it is certain that they plaster the in- 
 side of their hives with this composition. 
 
 If examined through a glass hive, from the 
 hurry the whole swarm is in, the whole ap- 
 pears at first like anarchy and confusion : but 
 the spectator soon finds every animal diligent- 
 ly employed, and following one pursuit, with 
 a settled purpose. Their teeth are the instru- 
 ments by which they model and fashion their 
 various buildings, and give them such symme- 
 try and perfection. They begin at the top of 
 the hive ; and several of them vvprk at a time, 
 at the cells which have two faces. If they 
 are stinted with regard to time, they give the 
 new cells but half the depth which they ought 
 to have ; leaving them imperfect, till they 
 have sketched out the number of cells neces- 
 sary for the present occasion. The construc- 
 tion of their combs costs them a great deal of 
 labour: they are made by insensible additions; 
 and not cast at once in a mould, as some are 
 apt to imagine. There seems no end of their 
 
THE BEE. 
 
 G0.5 
 
 shaping, finishing, and turning them neatly 
 up. The cells tor their young are most care- 
 fully formed ; those designed for lodging the 
 drones, are larger than the rest ; and that for 
 th;' queen-bee the largest of all. The cells in 
 which the young brood are lodged, serve at 
 different times for containing honey ; and this 
 proceeds fro'ii an obvious cause : every worm, 
 before it is transformed into an aurclia, bungs 
 irs old skin on the partitions of its cell ; and 
 thus, while it strengthens the wall, diminishes 
 the capacity of its late apartment. The same 
 cell, in a single summer, is often tenanted by 
 three or four worms in succession ; and the 
 next season by three or four more. Each 
 worn takes particular care to.f >rtifv the pan- 
 nels of its cell, by hanging up its spoils there : 
 thus, the partitions being lined six or eight 
 deep, hero lie at last too narrow for a new 
 brood, and are converted into store-houses for 
 honey. 
 
 Those cells where nothing but honey is 
 deposited, are much deeper than the rest. 
 When the harvest of honey i* so plentiful that 
 they have not sufficient roo.n for it, they either 
 lengthen their combs, or build more ; which 
 are much longer titan t!i form T. Sometimes 
 they work at three combs at a time ; for when 
 there are three work-houses, more bees may 
 be thus employed, without embarrassing each 
 other. 
 
 But honey, as was before observed, is not 
 the only food upon which these animals sub- 
 sist. The meal of flo err,, of which their wax 
 is formed, is one of their most favourite re- 
 pasts. This is a diet which they live upon 
 during the summer; and of which th y lay tip 
 a large winter provision. The wax of which 
 their combs are made, is no more than this 
 meal digested, and wrought into a paste. 
 When the flowers upon which bees generally 
 feed, are not fully blown, and this meal or 
 du*t is not offered in sufficient quantities, the 
 bees pinch the tops of the sta.nina in which it 
 is contained, with their teeth ; and thus anti- 
 cipate the progress of vegetation. In April 
 and May, tlv bees are busy, from morning to 
 evening, in gathering this meal ; but when the 
 weather becomes too hot in the midst of sum- 
 mer, they work only in the morning. 
 
 The bee is furnished with a stomach for its 
 wax, as well as its honey. In the former of 
 the two, their powder is altered, digested, and 
 no. 67 & 68. 
 
 concocted into re.al wax ; and is thus ejected 
 by the same passage by which it was swallow- 
 ed. Every comb, newly made, is white ; but 
 it becomes yellow as it grows old, and almost 
 black when kept too long in the hive. Beside 
 the wax thus digested, there is a large portion 
 of the powder kneaded up for food in every 
 hive, 'and kept in separate cells, for winter 
 provision. This is called by the country 
 people, bee-bread ; and contributes to the 
 health and strength of the animal during win- 
 ter. Those who rear bees, may rob them of 
 their honey, and feed them, during the winter, 
 with treacle; but no proper substitute has yet 
 been found for the bee-bread ; and, without it, 
 the animals become consumptive, and die. 
 
 As for the honey, it is extracted from that 
 part of the flower called the nectareum. 
 From the mouth tins delicious fluid passes 
 into the gullet ; and then into the first stomach, 
 or honey-bag, which, when filled, appears 
 like an oblong bladder. Children, that live 
 in country places, are well acquainted with 
 this bladder ; and destroy many bees, to come 
 at their store of honey. When a bee has suf- 
 ficiently fiiled its first stomach, it returns back 
 to the hive, where it disgorges the honey into 
 one of the cells. It often happens that the 
 bee delivers its store to some other, at the 
 mouth of the hive, and flies off for a fresh sup- 
 ply. Some honey-combs are always left open 
 for common use ; but many others are stopped 
 up, till there is a necessity of opening them. 
 Each of these is covered carefully with wax ; 
 so close, that the covers seem to be made at 
 the very instant the fluid is deposited within 
 them. 
 
 Having thus given a cursory description of 
 the insect, individually considered, and of the 
 habitation it forms, we next come to its social 
 habits and institutions : and, in considering 
 this little animal attentively, after the neces- 
 sary precautions for the immediate preserva- 
 tion of the community, its second care is turn- 
 ed to the continuance of posterity. How 
 numerous soever the multitude of bees may 
 appear in one swarm, yet they all owe their 
 original to a single parent, which is called the 
 Queen-See. It is indeed surprising that a 
 single insect shall, in one summer, give birth 
 to above twenty thousand young : but, upon 
 opening her body, the wonder will cease; as 
 the number of eggs appearing, at one time 
 
 5T 
 
804 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 amounts to five thousand. This animal, 
 whose existence is of suofi importance to her 
 subjects, may easily be distinguished from the 
 rest by her size, and the shape of her body. 
 On her safety depends the whole welfare of 
 the commonwealth ; and the attentions paid 
 her by all the rest of the swarm, evidently 
 show the dependence her subjects have upon 
 her security. If this insect be carefully ob- 
 served, she will be seen at times attended with 
 a numerous retinue, marching from cell to 
 cell, plunging the extremity of her body into 
 many of them, and leaving a small egg in 
 each. 
 
 The bees which generally compose her 
 train, are thought to be males, which serve to 
 impregnate her by turns. These are larger 
 and blacker than the common bees ; without 
 stings, and without industry. They seem 
 formed only to transmit a posterity ; and to 
 attend the queen, whenever she thinks proper 
 to issue from the secret retreats of the hive, 
 where she most usually resides. Upon the 
 union of these two kinds depends all expecta- 
 tions of a future progeny ; for the working 
 bees are of no sex, and only labour for another 
 offspring : yet such is their attention to their 
 queen, that if she happens to die, they will 
 leave off working, and take no farther care of 
 posterity. If, however, another queen is, in 
 this state of universal despair, presented them, 
 tht>y immediately acknowledge her for their 
 sovereign, and once more diligently apply to 
 their labour. It must he observed, however, 
 that all this fertility of the queen-bee, and the 
 great attentions paid to her by the rest, are 
 controverted by more recent observers. They 
 assert, that the common bees are parents 
 themselves ; that they deposite their eggs in 
 the cells which they have prepared ; that the 
 females are impregnated by the males, and 
 bring forth a progeny, which is wholly their 
 own. 
 
 However, to go on with their history, as de- 
 livered us by Mr. Reaumur. When the queen- 
 bee has deposited the number of eggs neces- 
 sary in the cells, the working bees undertake 
 the care of the rising posterity. They are 
 seen to leave off their usual employments ; to 
 construct proper receptacles for eggs ; or to 
 complete those that are already formed. 
 They purposely build little cells, extremely 
 *olid, for the young ; in which they employ a 
 
 great deal of wax : those designed for lodging 
 the males, as was already observed, are larger 
 than the rest; and those for the queen bees 
 the largest of all. There is usually but one 
 egg deposited in every cell ; but when the fe- 
 cundity of the queen is such, that it exceeds 
 the number of cells already prepared, there 
 are sometimes three or four eggs crowded 
 together in the same apartment. But this is 
 an inconvenience that the working bees will 
 by no means suffer. They seem sensible that 
 two young ones, stuffed up in the same cell, 
 when they grow larger, will but embarrass, 
 and at last destroy each other : they therefore 
 take care to leave a cell to every egg ; and re- 
 move or destroy the rest. 
 
 The single egg that is left remaining, is fixed 
 to the bottom of the cell, and touches it but in 
 a single point. A day or two after it is de- 
 posited, the worm is excluded from the shell 
 of the egg, having the appearance of a maggot 
 rolled up in a ring, and lying softly on a bed 
 of a whitish-coloured jelly ; upon which also 
 the little animal begins to feed. In the mean 
 time, the instant it appears, the working bees 
 attend it with the most anxious and parental 
 tenderness ; they furnish it every hour with a 
 supply of this whitish substance, on which it 
 feeds and lies,- and watch the cell with unre- 
 mitting care, They are nurses that have a 
 greater affection for the offspring of others, 
 th.m many parents have for their own chil- 
 dren. They are constant in visiting each cell, 
 and seeing that nothing is wanting ; preparing 
 the white mixture, which is nothing but a 
 composition of honey and wax, in their own 
 bowels, with which they feed them. Thus at- 
 tended, and plentifully fed, the worm, in less 
 than six days' time, comes to its full growth, 
 and no longer accepts the food offered it. 
 When the bees perceive that it has no further 
 occasion for feeding, they perform the last 
 offices of tenderness, and shut the little animal 
 up in its cell ; walling up the muuih of its 
 apartment with wax : where they leave the 
 worm to itself; having secured it from every 
 external injury. 
 
 The worm is no sooner left enclosed, but 
 from a state of inaction, it begins to labour, 
 extending and shortening its body ; and by 
 this means lining the walls of its apartment 
 with a silken tapestry, which it spins in the 
 manner of caterpillars, before they undergo 
 
THE BEE. 
 
 805 
 
 their last transformation. When their cell is 
 thus prepared, the animal is soon after trans- 
 formed into an aurelia; but differing from 
 that of the common caterpillar, as it exhibits 
 not only the legs, but the wings of the future 
 bee, in its present state of inactivity. Thus, 
 in about twenty or one and twenty days after 
 the egg was laid, the bee is completely form- 
 ed, and fitted to undergo the fatigues of its 
 state. When all its parts have acquired their 
 proper strength and consistence, the young 
 animal opens its prison, by piercing with its 
 teeth the waxen door that confines it. When 
 just freed from its cell, it is as yet moist, and 
 incommoded with the spoils of its former 
 situation : but the olficious bees are soon 
 seen to flock round it, and to lick it clean on 
 all sides with their trunks ; while another 
 band, with equal assiduity, are observed to 
 feed it with honey: others again begin imme- 
 diately to cleanse the cell that has been just 
 left; to carry the ordure out of the hive, and 
 to fit the place for a new inhabitant. The 
 young bee soon repays their care by its in- 
 dustry; for as soon as ever its external parts 
 become dry, it discovers its natural appetites 
 for labour, and industriously begins the task, 
 which it pursues unremittingly through life. 
 The toil of man is irksome to him, and he 
 earns his subsistence with pain; but this lit- 
 tle animal seems happy in its pursuits, and 
 finds delight in all its employments. 
 
 When just freed from the cell, and proper- 
 ly equipped by its fellow-bees for duty, it at 
 once issues from the hive, and, instructed 
 only by nature, goes in quest of flowers, 
 chooses only those that yield it a supply, re- 
 jects such as are barren of honey, or have 
 been already drained by other adventurers; 
 and when loaded, is never at a loss to find its 
 way back to the common habitation. After 
 this first sally, it begins to gather the mealy 
 powder that lies on every flower, which is 
 aft M-wards converted into wax; and with 
 this, the very first day, it returns with two 
 large balls stuck to its thighs. 
 
 When bees first begin to break their pri- 
 sons, there are generally above a hundred 
 excluded in one day. Thus, in the space of 
 a few weeks, the number of the inhabitants 
 in one hive, of moderate size, becomes so 
 great, that there is no place to contain the 
 
 new comers ; and they are scarcely excluded 
 from the cell, when they are obliged, by the 
 old bees, to sally forth in quest of new habi- 
 tations. In other words, the hive begins to 
 swarm, and the new progeny prepares for exile. 
 
 While there is room enough in the hive, 
 the bees remain quietly together; it is neces- 
 sity alone that compels the separation. 
 Sometimes, indeed, the young brood, with 
 graceless obstinacy, refuse to depart, and 
 even venture to resist their progenitors. The 
 young ones are known by being browner 
 than the old, with whiter hair, the old ones 
 are of a lighter colour, with red hair. The two 
 armies are therefore easily distinguishable, 
 and dreadful battles are often seen to ensue. 
 But the victory almost ever terminates with 
 strict political justice in favour of the veterans, 
 and the rebellious offspring are driven off, not 
 without loss and mutilation. 
 
 In different countries, the swarms make 
 their appearance at different times of the 
 year, and there are several signs previous to 
 this intended migration. The night before, 
 an unusual buzzing is heard in the hive; in 
 the morning, though the weather be soft and 
 inviting, they seem not to obey the call, being 
 intent on more important meditations within. 
 All labour is discontinued in the hive; every 
 bee is either employed in forcing, or reluc- 
 tantly yielding, a submission; at length, after 
 some noise and tumult, a queen-bee is chosen 
 to guard rather than conduct the young 
 colony to other habitations, and then they 
 are marshalled without any apparent con- 
 ductor. In less than a minute they leave 
 (heir native abode, and forming a cloud round 
 their protectress, they set off, without seem- 
 ing to know the place of their destination; 
 the world before them, inhere to choose their place 
 of rest. The usual time of swarming is from 
 ten in the morning to three in the afternoon, 
 when the sun shines bright, and invites them 
 to seek their fortunes. They flutter for a 
 while in the air, like flakes of snow, and 
 sometimes undertake a distant journey, but 
 more frequently are contented with some 
 neighbouring asylum; the branch of a tree, 
 a chimney-top, or some other exposed situa- 
 tion. It is, indeed, remarkable, that all those 
 animals, of whatever kind, that have long 
 been under the protection of man, seem to 
 
806 
 
 \ HISTORY OF 
 
 lose a part of their natural sagacity in pro- 
 viding for themselves. The rabbit, when do- 
 mesticated, forgets to dig holes, the hen to 
 build a nest, and the bee to seek a shelter 
 that shall protect it from the inclemencies of 
 winter. In those countries where the bees 
 are wild, and unprotected by man, they are 
 always sure to build their waxen cells in the 
 hoilo-.v of a tree; but with us, they seem im- 
 provident in their choice, and the first green 
 bninch that stops their flight, seems to be 
 thought sufficient for their abode through 
 winter. However, it does not appear that 
 the queen chooses the place where they are 
 to alight, for many of the stragglers, who seem 
 to be pleased with a particular branch, go 
 and settle upon it; others are seen to suc- 
 ceed ; and, at last, the queen herself, when 
 ghe finds a sufficient number there before her, 
 goes to make it the place of her head-quar- 
 ters. When the queen is settled, the rest of 
 the swarm soon follow; and in about a quar- 
 ter of an hour, the whole body seem to be at 
 ease. It sometimes is found, that there are 
 two or three queens to a swarm, and the 
 colony is divided into parties; but it most 
 usually happens, that one of these is more 
 considerable than the other, and the bees, by 
 degrees, desert the weakest, to take shelter 
 under the most powerful protector. The 
 deserted queen does not long survive this de- 
 feat ; she takes refuge under the new monarch, 
 and is soon destroyed by her jealous rival. 
 Till this cruel execution is performed, the 
 bees never go out to work; and if there 
 should be a queen-bee belonging to the new 
 colony left in the old hive, she always under- 
 o-oes the fate of the former. However, it 
 must be observed, that the bees never sacri- 
 fice any of their queens, when the hive is 
 full of wax and honey ; for there is at that 
 time no danger in maintaining a plurality of 
 breeders. 
 
 When the swarm is thus conducted to a 
 place of rest, and the policy of government 
 is settled, the bees soon resume their former 
 labours. The making cells, storing them 
 
 vith honey, impregnating the queen, making 
 proper cells for the reception of the rising 
 progeny, and protecting them from external 
 danger, employ their unceasing industry. 
 
 But soon after, and towards the latter end of 
 
 summer, when the colony is sufficiently stored 
 with inhabitants, a most cruel polir.) ei . 
 The drone bees, which are (as has been said) 
 generally in a hive to the number of a hun- 
 dred, are marked for slaughter. These, 
 which had hitherto led a lite oi indolence and 
 pleasure, whose only employment was in 
 impregnating the queen, and rioting upoi ihe 
 labours of the hive, without aiding in the 
 general toil, now share the fate of riiost vo- 
 luptuaries, and fall a sacrifice to the general 
 resentment of society. 
 
 The working bees, in a body, declare war 
 against them ; and in two or three days' time, 
 the ground all round th< hive is covered 
 with their dead bodies. Nay, the working 
 bees will even kill such drones, as are yet in 
 the worm state, in the cell, and eject their 
 bodies from the hive, among the general car- 
 nage. 
 
 When a hive sends out several swarms in 
 the year, the first is always the best, and the 
 most numerous. These, having the whole 
 summer before them, have the more time to? 
 making wax and honey, and consequently 
 their labours are the most valuable to the 
 proprietor. Although the swarm chiefly con- 
 sists of the youngest bees, yet it is often 
 found, that bees of all ages compose (be mul- 
 titude of emigrants, and it often happens, that 
 bees of all ages are seen remaining behind. 
 The number of them is always more con- 
 siderable than that of some populous cities, 
 for sometimes upwards of forty thousand are 
 found in a single hive. So large a body may 
 well be supposed to work with great expedi- 
 tion; and, in fact, in less than twenty -four 
 hours, they will make combs above twenty 
 inches long, and seven or eight broad. Some- 
 times they will half fill their hives with wax 
 in less than five days. In the first fifteen 
 days, they are always found to make more 
 wax than they do afterwards during the rest 
 of the year. 
 
 Such are the outlines of the natural history 
 of these animals, as usually found in our own 
 country. How they are treated, so as to pro- 
 duce the greatest quantity of honey, belongs 
 rather to the rural economist, than the natu- 
 ral historian ; volumes have been written on 
 the subject, and still more remains equally 
 curious and new. One thing, however, it may 
 
THE BEE. 
 
 807 
 
 be proper to observe, that a farm, or a coun- 
 try, may be over-stocked with bees, as well 
 as with any other sort of animal; tor a cer- 
 tain number of hives always require a cer- 
 tain number of (lowers to subsist on. \\ hen 
 the flowers near home are rilled, then are 
 these industrious insects see;i taking more 
 extensive ranges: but their abilities may be 
 over taxed; and if they are obliged, in quest 
 of honey, to go too fir from home, they are 
 over-wearied in the pursuit, they are devour- 
 ed by birds, or beat down by the winds and 
 rain. 
 
 From a knowledge of this, in some parts of 
 France and Piedmont, they have contrived, as 
 I have often seen, a kiiid of (loafing bee-house. 
 
 They have on board one barge threescore 
 or a hundred bee-hives, well defended from 
 the inclemency of an accidental storm; and 
 with these the owners sutler themselves to 
 float gently down the river. As the bees are 
 continually choosing their flowery pasture 
 along the banks of the stream, they are fur- 
 nished with sweets before unrifled: and thus 
 a single floating bee-house yields the pro- 
 prietor a considerable income. Why a 
 method similar to this has never been adopt- 
 ed in England, where we have more gentle 
 rivers, and more flowery banks, than in any 
 other part of the world, I know not : certain- 
 ly it might be turned to advantage, and yield 
 the possessor a secure, though perhaps a 
 moderate income. 
 
 Having mentioned the industry of these 
 admirable insects, it will be proper to say 
 something of the effects of their labour, of 
 that w ix and honey which are turned by man 
 to such various uses. Bees gather t'.vo kinds 
 of wax ; one coarse, and the other fine. The 
 coarser sort is bitter, and with this, which is 
 call 1 propolis* they stop up all the holes and 
 crevices of their hives. It is of a more resin- 
 ous nature than the fine wax, arid is conse- 
 quently better qualified to resist the moisture 
 of !h season, and preserve the works warm 
 and dry within. The fine wax is a* nec"s- 
 sary to the animal's preservation as the honey 
 itself With this they make their lodgings, 
 with this they cover the cells of their young, 
 and in this they lay up their magazines of 
 honey. This is made, as has been alr^-ly 
 cbserved, from the dust of flowers, which is 
 
 carefully kneaded by the little insect, then 
 swallowed, and having undergone a kind of 
 digestion, is formed imo the cells, which 
 answer such a variety of purposes. To col- 
 lect this, the animal rolls itself in the flower 
 it would rob, and thus takes up the vegetable 
 dust with the hair of its body. Then care- 
 fully brushing it into a lump, with its fore- 
 pans it thrusts the composition into two 
 cavities behind the thighs, which are made 
 like spoons to receive the wax, and the hair 
 that lines them serves to keep it from falling. 
 
 As of wax, there are also two kinds of 
 honey; the white and the yellow. The 
 white is taken without fire from the honey- 
 combs. The yellow is extracted by heat, 
 and squeezed through bags, in a press. The 
 best honey is new, thick, and granulated, of 
 a clear transparent white colour, of a soil and 
 aromatic smell, and of a sweet lively taste. 
 Honey made in mountainous countries, is 
 preferable to that of the valley. The honey 
 made in the spring is more highly esteemed 
 than that gathered in summer; which last is 
 still more valuable than that of autumn, when 
 the flowers begin to fade, and lose their fra- 
 grance. 
 
 The bees are nearly alike in nil parts of 
 the world ; yet there are differences worthy 
 our notice. In Guadaloupe, the bee is less 
 by one half than the European, and more 
 black and round. They have no sting, and 
 make their cells in hollow trees ; where, if 
 the hole they meet with is too large, they 
 form a sort of waxen house of the shape of a 
 pear, and in this they lodge and store their 
 JK>riey. and lay their eggs. They lay op their 
 hoitev in waxen vessels, of the size of a 
 pig 'Oil's ejfg. of a black or deep violet colour; 
 and these are so joined together, that there is 
 no space left between them. The honey 
 never congeals, but is fluid, of the consis- 
 tence of oil. and the colour of amber. Re- 
 sembling these, there are found little black 
 bees, without a sting, in all the tropical cli- 
 mates; and though these countries are replete 
 with bees like our own, yet those lorm the 
 most useful and laborious tribe in that part of 
 the world. The honey they produce is nei- 
 ther so unpalatable nor so surfeiting as ours; 
 aiid the wax is so soft, that it is only used for 
 medicinal purposes, it being never found 
 
808 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 hard enough to form into candles, as in Eu- 
 rope. 
 
 Of insects that receive the name of bees 
 among us, there are several; which, however, 
 differ very widely from that industrious social 
 race we have been just describing. The 
 Humble-Bee is the largest of all this tribe, 
 being as large as the first joint of one's mid- 
 dle finger. These are seen in every field, 
 and perched on every flower. They build 
 their nest in holes in the ground, of dry leaves, 
 mixed with wax and wool, d'-fended with moss 
 from the weather. Each humble-bee makes 
 a separate cell about the size of a small nut- 
 meg, which is round and hollow, containing 
 the honey in a bag. Several of these cells 
 are joined together in such a manner, that the 
 whole appears like a cluster of grapes. The 
 females, which have the appearance of wasps, 
 are very few, and their eggs are laid in cells, 
 which the rest soon cover over with wax. It 
 is uncertain whether they have a queen or 
 not; but there is one much larger than the 
 rest, without wings and without hair, and all 
 over black, like polished ebony. This goes 
 and views all the works, from time to time, 
 and enters into the cell, as if it wanted to see 
 whether every thing was done right. In the 
 morning the young humble-bees are very idle, 
 and seem not at all inclined to labour, till one 
 of the largest, about seven o'clock, thrusts 
 half its body from a hole designed for that 
 purpose, and seated on the top of the nest, 
 beats its wings for twenty minutes successive- 
 ly, buzzing the whole time, till the whole 
 colony is put in motion. The humble-bees 
 gather honey, as well as the common bees; 
 but it is neither so fine nor so good, nor the 
 wax so clean, or so capable of fusion. 
 
 Beside the bees already mentioned, there 
 are various kinds among us, that have much 
 the appearance of honey-m ikers, and yet 
 make only wax. The Wood-Bee is seen in 
 every garden. It 5s rather larger than the 
 common queen-bee ; its body of a bluish 
 black, which is smooth and shining. It be- 
 gins to appear at the approach of spring, and 
 is seen flying near walls exposed to a sunny 
 aspect. This bee makes its nest in some 
 piece of wood, which it contrives to scoop 
 and hollow for its purpose. This, however, 
 ie never done in trees that are standing, for 
 
 the wood it makes choice of is half rotten. 
 The holes are not made directly forward, but 
 turning to one side, and have an opening suf- 
 ficient to admit one's middle finger, from 
 whence runs the inner apartment, generally 
 twelve or fifteen inches long. The instru- 
 ments used in boring these cavities, are their 
 teeth ; the cavity is usually branched into 
 three or four apartments ; and in each of 
 these they lay their eggs, to the number of 
 ten or twelve, each separate and distinct from 
 the rest: the egg is involved in a sort of puste, 
 which serves at once for the young animal's 
 protection and nourishment. The grown 
 bees, however, feed upon small insects, par- 
 ticularly a louse, of a reddish brown colour, 
 of the size of a small pin's head. 
 
 Mason-Bees make their cells with a sort of 
 mortar made of earth, which they build 
 against a wall that is exposed to the sun. 
 The mortar, which at first is soft, soon be- 
 comes as hard as stone, and in this their eggs 
 are laid. Each nest contains seven or eignt 
 cells, an egg in every cell, placed regularly 
 one over the other. If the nests remain un- 
 hurt, or want but little repairs, they make use 
 of them the year ensuing : and thus they often 
 serve three or four years successively. From 
 I the strength of their houses, one would think 
 I these bees in perfect security; yet none are 
 more exposed than they. A worm with 
 very strong teeth, is often found to bore into 
 their little fortifications, and devour their 
 young. 
 
 The Ground-Bee builds its nest in the 
 earth, wherein they make round holes, five 
 or six inches deep; the mouth being narrow, 
 and only just sufficient to admit the little in- 
 habitant. 
 
 Itisamusingenough to observe the patience 
 and assiduity with which they labour. They 
 carry out all the earth, grain by. grain, to the 
 mouth of the hole, where it forms a little hil- 
 lock; an alps, compared to the power of the 
 artist by which it is raised. Sometimes the 
 walks of a garden are found undermined by 
 their labours ; some of the holes running di- 
 rectly downward, others horizontally beneath 
 the surface. They lay up in these cavities 
 provisions for their young, which consist of a 
 paste that has the appearance of corn, and i 
 of a sweetish taste. 
 
THE WASP. 
 
 809 
 
 The Leaf-cutting Bees make their nost and 
 lay their eggs among bits of leaves, very 
 artificially placed in holt's in the earth, of about 
 the length of a tooth-pick case. They make 
 the bits of leaves of a roundish form, and with 
 them line the inside of their habitations. 
 This tapestry is still further lined by a reddish 
 kind of paste, somewhat sweet or acid. 
 These bees are of various kinds ; those that 
 build their nests with chesnut leaves are as big 
 as drones, but those of the rose-tree are smal- 
 ler than the common bee. 
 
 The Wall-Bees are so called because they 
 make their nests in walls, of a kind of silky 
 
 membrane, with which they fill up the vacuities 
 between the small stones which form the sides 
 of their habitation. Their apartment consists 
 of several cells placed end to end, each in the 
 shape of a woman's thimble. Though the 
 web which lines this habitation is thick and 
 warm, yet it is transparent, and of a whitish 
 colour. This substance is supposed to be spun 
 from the animal's body. The males and fe- 
 males are of a size, but the former are without 
 a sting. To these varieties of the bee kind 
 might be added several others, which are all 
 different in nature, but not sufficiently distin- 
 guished to excite curiosity. 
 
 CHAPTER CXXI. 
 
 OF THE WASP. 
 
 HOWEVER similar many insects may be 
 in appearance, this does not imply a simili- 
 tude in their history. The bee and the wasp 
 resemble each other very strongly, yet, in 
 examining their manner and their duration, 
 they differ very widely : the bee labours to 
 lay up honey, and lives to enjoy the fruits of 
 its industry : the wasp appears equally as- 
 siduous; but only works for posterity, as the 
 habitation is scarcely completed when the in- 
 habitant dies. 
 
 The wasp is well known to be a winged 
 insect with a sting. To be longer in propor- 
 tion to its bulk than the bee. to be marked 
 with bright yellow circles round its body, and 
 to be the most swift and active insect of all 
 the fly kind. On each side of the mouth this 
 animal is furnished with a long tooth, notched 
 like a saw, and with these it is enabled to cut 
 any substance, not omitting meat itself, and 
 to carry it to its nest. Wasps live, like bees, 
 in community, and sometimes ten or twelve 
 thousand are found inhabiting a single nest. 
 
 Of all other insects the wasp is the most 
 fierce, voracious, and most dangerous, when 
 enraged. They are seen wherever flesh is 
 cutting up. gorging themselves with the spoil, 
 and then flying to their nests? with their reek- 
 ing prey. They make war also on every 
 
 other fly, and the spider himself dreads their 
 approaches. 
 
 Every community among bees is composed 
 of females or queens, drones or males, and 
 neutral or working bees. Wasps have similar 
 occupations; the two first are for propagating 
 the species, the last for nursing, defending, 
 and supporting the rising progeny. Among 
 bees, however, there is seldom above a queen 
 or two in a hive ; among wasps there are 
 above two or three hundred. 
 
 As soon as the summer begins to invigorate 
 the insect tribes, the wasps are tbe most of 
 the Dumber, and diligently employed either 
 in providing provisions for their nest, if al- 
 ready made; or in making one, if the former 
 habitation be too small to receive the increas- 
 ing community. The nest is one of the most 
 curious objects in natural history, and con- 
 trived almost as artificially as that of the bees 
 themselves. Their principal care is to seek 
 out a hole that has been begun by some other 
 animal, a field- mouse, a rat, or a mole, to 
 build their nests in. They sometimes build 
 upon the plain, where they are sure of the 
 dry ness of their situation ; but most common- 
 ly on the side of a bank, to avoid the rain or 
 water that would otherwise annoy them. 
 When they have chosen a proper place, they 
 
810 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 go to work with wonderful assiduity. Their 
 tirst labour is lo enlarge and widen Ihe hole, 
 taking away the earth, and carrying it off to 
 some distance. They are perfectly formed 
 for labour, being furnished with a trunk above 
 their mouths, two saws on each side, which 
 play to the right and left against each other, 
 and six strong muscular legs to support them. 
 They cut the earth into small parcels with 
 their saws, and carry it out with their legs or 
 paws. This is the work of some days; and 
 at length the outline of their habitation is 
 formed, making a cavity of about a foot and 
 a half every way. While some are working 
 in this manner, others are roving the fields to 
 seek out materials for their building. To 
 prevent the earth from falling down and 
 crushing their rising city into ruin, they make 
 a sort of roof with their gluey substance, to 
 which they begin to fix the rudiments of their 
 building, working from the top downwards, 
 as if they were hanging a bell; which, how- 
 ever, at length they close up at the bottom. 
 The materials with which they build their 
 nests are bits of wood and glue. The wood 
 they get where they can from the rails and 
 posts which they meet with in the fields and 
 elsewhere. These they saw and divide into a 
 multitude of small fibres, of which they take 
 up little bundles in their claws, letting fall 
 upon them a few drops of gluey matter, with 
 which their bodies are provided, by the help 
 of which they knead the whole composition 
 into a paste, which serves them in their future 
 building. When they have returned with 
 this to the nest, they stick their load of paste 
 on that part where they make their walls and 
 partitions; they tread it close with their feet, 
 and trowel it with their trunks, still going 
 backwards as they work. Having repeated 
 this operation three or four times, the com- 
 position is at length flatted out until it be- 
 comes a small leaf of a gray colour, much 
 finer than paper, and of a pretty firm texture. 
 This done, the same wasp returns to the field 
 to collect a second load of paste, repeating 
 the same several times, placing layer upon 
 layer, and strengthening every partition in 
 proportion to the wants or convenience of 
 the general fabric. Other working wasps 
 come quickly after to repeat the same opera- 
 tion, laying more leaves upon the forme , till 
 
 at length, after much toil, they have finished 
 the large roof, which is to secure them from 
 the tumbling in of the earth. This dome 
 being finished, they make another entrance 
 to their habitation, designed either for letting 
 in the warmth of the sun, or for escaping, in 
 case one door be invaded by plunderers. 
 Certain however it is, that by one of these 
 they always enter, by the other they sally 
 forth to their toil; each hole being so small 
 that they can pass but one at a time. The 
 walls being thus composed, and the whole 
 somewhat of the shape of a pear, they labour 
 at their cells, which they compose of the 
 same paper-like substance that goes to the 
 formation of the outside works. Their combs 
 differ from those of bees not less in the com- 
 position, than the position which they are 
 always seen to obtain. The honey-comb of 
 the bee is edgeways with respect to the hive ; 
 that of the wasp is Hat, and the mouth of 
 every cell opens downwards. Thus is their 
 habitation contrived, story above story, sup- 
 ported by several rows ot pillars, which give 
 firmness to the whole building, while the up- 
 per story is Hat-roofed, and as smooth as the 
 pavement of a room, laid with squares of 
 marble. The wasps can freely walk upon 
 these stories between the pillars, to do what- 
 ever their wants require. The pillars are 
 very hard and compact, being larger at each 
 end than in the middle, not much unlike the 
 columns of a building. All the cells of the 
 nest are oidy destined for the reception ot 
 the young, being replete with neither wax 
 nor honey. 
 
 Each cell is like that of the bee, hexagonal : 
 but they are of two sorts ; the one larger, for 
 the production of the male and female wasps; 
 the other less, for the reception of the work- 
 ing part of the community. When the fe- 
 males are impregnated by the males, they lay 
 their eggs, one in each cell, anil stick it in 
 with a kind of gummy matter to prevent its 
 falling out. From this egg proceeds the in- 
 sect in its worm state, of which the old ones 
 are extremely careful, feeding it from time to 
 time till it becomes large, and entirely tills up 
 its cell. But the wasp community differs 
 from that of the bee in this; that among the 
 latter the working-bees take the parental 
 duties upon them, whereas among the wasps 
 
THE WASP. 
 
 the females alone are permitted to feed their 
 young, and to nurse their rising progeny. 
 For this purpose the female waits with great 
 patience till the working-wasps have brought 
 in their provisions, which she takes from 
 them, and cuts into pieces. She then goes 
 with great composure from cell to cell, and 
 feeds every young one with her mouth. 
 When the young worms have come to a cer- 
 tain size they leave off eating, and begin to 
 spin a very fine silk, fixing their first end to 
 the entrance of the cell ; then turning their 
 heads, first on one side, then on the other, 
 they fix the thread to different parts, and thus 
 they make a sort of a door, which serves to 
 close upthe mouth of the cell. After this they 
 divest themselves of their skins after the usual 
 mode of transformation : the aurelia, by de- 
 grees, begins to emancipate itself from its 
 shell ; by little and little, it thrusts out its legs 
 and wings, and insensibly acquires the colour 
 and shape of its parent. 
 
 The wasp thus formed, and prepared for 
 depredation, becomes a bold, troublesome, 
 and dangerous insect : there are no dangers 
 which it will not encounter in pursuit of its 
 prey, and nothingseems to satiate its gluttony. 
 Though it can gather no honey of its own, no 
 animal is more fond of sweets. For this pur- 
 pose it will pursue the bee and the humble- 
 bee,destroy them with itssting.and then plun- 
 der them of their honey-bag, with which it 
 flies triumphantly loaded to its nest to regale 
 its young. Wasps are ever fond of making 
 their nests in the neighbourhood of bees, 
 merely to have an opportunity of robbing 
 their hives, and feasting on the spoil. Yet 
 the bees are not found always patiently sub- 
 missive to their tyranny, but fierce battles 
 are sometimes seen to ensue, in which the 
 bees make up by conduct and numbers what 
 they want in personal prowess. When there 
 is no honey to be had, they seek for the best 
 and sweetest fruits, and they are never mis- 
 taken in their choice. From the garden they 
 fly to the city, to the grocers' shops, and 
 butchers' shambles. They will sometimes 
 carry off bits of flesh half as big as them- 
 selves, with which they fly to their nest for 
 the nourishment of their brood. Those who 
 cannot drive them away, lay for them a piece 
 of ox's liver, which being without fibres, they 
 
 wo. 69 & 70. 
 
 prefer to other flesh ; and whenever they are 
 found, all other flies are seen to desert the 
 place immediately. Such is the dread with 
 which these little animals impress all the rest 
 of the insect tribes, which they seize and de- 
 vour without mercy, that they vanish at their 
 approach. Wherever they fly, like the eagle 
 or the falcon, they form a desert in the air 
 around them. In this manner the summer is 
 passed in plundering the neighbourhood, and 
 rearing up their young: every day adds to 
 their numbers; and from their strength, 
 agility, and indiscriminate appetite for every 
 kind of provision, were they as long-lived as 
 the bee, they would soon swarm upon the 
 face of nature, and become the most noxious 
 plague of man; but providentially their lives 
 are measured to their mischief, and they live 
 but a single season. 
 
 While the summer heats continue, they are 
 bold, voracious, and enterprising; but as the 
 sun withdraws, it seems to rob them of their 
 courage and activity. In proportion as the 
 cold increases, they are seen to become more 
 domestic; they seldom leave the nest, they 
 make but short adventures from home, they 
 flutter about in the noon-day heats, and soon 
 after return cliilled and feeble. 
 
 As their calamities increase, new passions 
 soon begin to take place ; the care for pos- 
 terity no longer continues; and as the parents 
 are no longer able to provide their growing 
 progeny a supply, they take the barbarous 
 resolution of sacrificing them all to the neces- 
 sity of the times. In this mariner, like a gar- 
 rison upon short allowance, all the useless 
 hands are destroyed; the young worms, 
 which a little before they fed and protected 
 with so much assiduity, are now butchered, 
 and dragged from their cells. As the cold 
 increases, they no longer find sufficient warmth 
 in their nests, which grow hateful to thr-m, 
 and they fly to seek it in the corners of houses, 
 and places that receive an artificial heat. 
 But the winter is still insupportable; and, 
 before the new year begins, they wither and 
 die ; the working-wasps first, the males soon 
 following, and many of the females suffer in 
 the general calamity. In every nest, however, 
 one or two females survive the winter, and 
 having been impregnated by the male during 
 the preceding season, she begins in spring to 
 5U 
 
81'2 
 
 A HISTORY 6F 
 
 lay her eggs in a little hole of her own contri- 
 vance. This bundle of eggs, which is clus- 
 tered together like grapes, soon produces two 
 worms, which the female takes proper pre- 
 caution to defend and supply, and these, when 
 hatched, soon give assistance to the female, 
 who is employed in hatching two more ; these 
 also gathering strength, extricate themselves 
 out of the web that enclosed them, and become 
 likewise assistants to their mother ; fifteen 
 days after, two more make their appearance : 
 thus is the community every day increasing,, 
 while the female lays in every cell, first a 
 male and then a female. These soon after 
 become breeders in turn, till, from a single fe- 
 male, ten thousand wasps are seen produced 
 before the month of June. After the female 
 has thus produced her progeny, which arc 
 distributed in different districts, they assemble 
 from all parts in the middle of summer, and 
 provide for themselves the large and commo- 
 dious habitation which has been described 
 above. 
 
 Such is the history of the social wasp ; but, 
 as among bees, so also among these insects, 
 there are various tribes that live in solitude ; 
 these lay their eggs in a hole for the purpose, 
 and the parent dies long before the birth of its 
 offspring. In the principal species of the 
 Solitary-Wasps, the insect is smaller than the 
 working-wasp of the social kind. The fila- 
 ment by which the corselet is joined to the 
 body, is longer and more distinctly seen, and 
 the whole colour of the insect is blacker 
 than in the ordinary kinds. But it is not 
 their figure, but the manners of this extra- 
 ordinary insect, that claim our principal re- 
 gard. 
 
 From the end of May to the beginning; of 
 July this wasp is seen most diligently employ- 
 ed. The whole purpose of its life seems to be 
 in contriving and fitting up a commodious 
 apartment for its yonng one, which is not to 
 succeed it till the yc.r ensuing. For this end 
 it is employed, with umvearied assiduity, in 
 boring a hole into the finest earth some inches 
 deep, but not much wider than the diameter 
 of its own body. Tin's is but a gallery leading 
 to a wider apartment destined for the conve- 
 nient lodgment of its young. As it always 
 chooses a gravelly soil to work in, and where 
 the eanh is almost as hard as stone itself, the 
 digging and hollowing this apartment is an 
 
 enterprise of ho small labour : for effecting its. 
 operations, this insect is furnished with two 
 teeth, which are strong and firm, but not suf- 
 ficiently hard to penetrate the substance through 
 which it is resolved to make its way. In or- 
 der therefore to soften that earth which it is 
 unable to pierce, it is furnished with a gummy 
 liquor, which it emits upon the place, and 
 which renders it more easily separable from 
 the rest, and the whole becoming a kind of 
 soft paste, is removed to the mouth of the 
 habitation. The animal's provision of liquor 
 in these operations is however soon exhaust- 
 ed; and it is then seen taking up water either 
 from some neighbouring flower or stream, in 
 order to supply the deficiency. 
 
 At length, after much toil, a hole some in- 
 ches deep is formed, at the bottom of which is 
 a large cavity ; and to this no other hostile 
 insect would venture to find its way, from 
 the length and the narrowness of the de- 
 file through which it would be obliged topnss. 
 In this the solitary wasp lays its egg, which is 
 destined to continue the species; there the 
 nascent animal is to continue for about nine 
 months unattended and immured, and, at first 
 appearance, the most helpless insect of the 
 creation. But when we come to examine, 
 new wonders offer; no other insect can boast 
 so copiously luxurious a provision, or such 
 confirmed security. 
 
 As soon as the mother wasp has deposited 
 her egg at the bottom of the hole, her next 
 care is to furnish it with a supply of provisions, 
 which may be off red to the young insect as 
 soon as ii leaves the egg. To this end she 
 procures a numb r of little green worms, gene- 
 rally from eight to twelve, and these are to 
 serve as foiwl for the young one the instant it 
 awakens into life. When this supply is regu- 
 larly arranged and laid in, the old one then, 
 with as much assiduity as it before worked out 
 its hole, now closes the mouth of the passage ; 
 and thus leaving its young ora ; immured in 
 perfect security, and in a copious supply of 
 animal food, she dies satisfied with having 
 provided for a future progeny. 
 
 When the young one leaves the egg, it is 
 scarcely visible, and is seen immured among 
 a number of insects, infinitely larger than itself, 
 ranged in proper order around it, which, how- 
 ever, give it no manner of apprehension- 
 Whether the parent, when she laid in the in- 
 
THE ICHNEUMON FLY. 
 
 sect provision, contrived to disable the worms 
 from resistance, or whether they wen: at first 
 incapable of any, is not known. Certain it 
 is, that the young glutton feasts upon the liv- 
 ing spoil without any control ; his game lies 
 at his hand, and he devours one after the 
 other as the calls of ippetite incite him. The 
 life of the young animal is therefore spent in 
 the most luxurious manner, till its whole stock 
 of worms is exhausted, when the time of irs 
 transformation begins to approach ; and then 
 spinning a silken web, it continues fixed in its 
 cell till the sun calls it from its dark abode the 
 
 ensuing summer. 
 
 The wasps of Europe are very mischievous, 
 yet they are innocence itself when compared 
 to those of the tropical climates, wiiere all the 
 insect tribes are not only numerous, but large, 
 voracious, and formidable. Those of the 
 W st Indies are thicker, and twice as lo-ig, 
 as the common bee; they are of a gray 
 colour, striped with yellow, and armed with 
 a very dangerous sting. They make their 
 
 cells in the manner of a honey-comb, in which 
 thi- young ones are hatched and bred. They 
 generally hang their nests by threads, coni- 
 po ed of the same substance with the cells, to 
 the branches of trees, and the eaves of houses. 
 They are seen every where in great abun- 
 dance, descending like fruit, particularly pears, 
 of which shape they are, and as large as one's 
 head. , The inside is divided into three round 
 stories full of cells, each hexagonal, like those 
 of a honey-comb. In some of the islands 
 these insects are so very numerous, that their 
 nests are stuck up in this manner, scarce two 
 feet asunder, and the inhabitants are in conti- 
 nual apprehension from their accidental re- 
 sentment. It .-ometinies happens that no pre- 
 cautions can prevent their attacks, and the 
 pain of their sting is almost insupportable. 
 Those who have felt it, think it more terrible 
 than even that of a scorpion ; the whole visage 
 swells, and the features are so disfigured, that 
 a pel-son is scarcely known by his most inti- 
 mate acquaintance. 
 
 CHAPTER CXXll. 
 
 OF THE ICHNEUMON FLY. 
 
 EVERY rank of insects, how voracious 
 soever, have enemies that are terrible to them, 
 and that revenge upon them the injuries done 
 upon the rest of the animated creation. The 
 wasp, as we have seen, is very troublesome to 
 man, and very formidable to the insect tribe; 
 but the ichneumon fly (of which there are 
 in inv varieties) fears not the wasp itself; it 
 enters its retreats, plunders its habitations, and 
 takes possession of that cell for its own young, 
 which the wa-p had laboriously built for a 
 dearer posterity. 
 
 Though there are many different kinds of 
 this insect, yet the most formidable, and that 
 best known, is called the common ichneumon, 
 with four wings, like the bee, a long, slender, 
 bhek body, and a three-forked tail, consisting 
 of bristles; the two outermost black, and the 
 middle- nost red. This fly receives its name 
 from the little qu idruped, which is found to 
 be so destructive to the crocodile, as it bears 
 
 a strong similitude in its courage and rapa- 
 city. 
 
 Though this instrument is, to all appearance, 
 slender and feeble, yet it is found to be a 
 weapon of great force and efficacy. There is 
 scarcely any substance which it will not 
 pierce ; and indeed it is seldom seen but em- 
 ployed in penetration. This is the weapon 
 of defence; this is employed in destroying its 
 prey ; and still more, by this the animal de- 
 posites her eggs wherever she thinks fit to lay' 
 them. As it is an instrument chiefly employ- 
 ed for this purpose, the male is unprovided 
 with such a sting, while the female uses it with 
 great force and dexterity, brandishing it \\ hen 
 caught, froiii side to side, and very often 
 wounding those who thought they held her 
 with the greatest security. 
 
 All the flies of this tribe are produced in the 
 same manner, and owe their birth to the de- 
 struction of some other insect, within whose 
 5 U* 
 
014 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 body they have been deposited, and upon 
 whose vitals they have preyed, till they came 
 to maturity. There is no insect whatever, 
 which they will not attack, in order to leave 
 their fatal present in its body ; the caterpillar, 
 the gnat, and even the spider himself, so for- 
 midable to others, is often made the unwilling 
 fosterer of this destructive progeny. 
 
 About the middle of the summer, when 
 other insects arc found in great abundance, 
 the ichneumon is seen flying busily about, and 
 seeking proper objects upo.n whom to deposite 
 its progeny. As there arc various kinds of 
 this fly, so they seem to have various appe- 
 tites. Some are found to place their eggs 
 within the aurelia of some nascent insect, 
 others place them within the nest, which the 
 wasp had curiously contrived for its own 
 young : and as both are produced at the same 
 time, the young of the ichneumon not only 
 devours the young wasp, but the whole supply 
 of worms, which the parent had carefully pro- 
 vided for its provision. But the greatest num- 
 ber of the ichneumon tribe are seen settling 
 upon the back of the caterpillar, and darting, 
 at different intervals, their stings into its body. 
 At every dart they deposite an egg, while the 
 wounded animal seems scarcely sensible of the 
 injury it sustains. In this manner they leave 
 from six to a do/en of their eggs within the 
 fatty substance of the reptile's body, and then 
 
 fly off to commit further depredations. la 
 the mean time, the caterpillar, thus irreparably 
 injured, seems to feed as voraciously as before; 
 does not abate of its usual activity ; and, to 
 all appearance, seems no way affected by the 
 internal enemies that are preparing its destruc- 
 tion in their darksome abode. But they soon 
 burst from their egg state, and begin to prey 
 upon the substance of their prison. As thry 
 grow larger, they require a greater supply ; 
 till at last the animal, by whose vitals they are 
 supported, is no longer able to sustain them, 
 but dies; its whole inside being almost eaten 
 away. It often happens, ho\< ever, that it sur- 
 vives their worm-state, and then they change 
 into a chrysalis, enclosed in the caterpillar's 
 body till the time of their delivery approaches, 
 when they burst their prisons, and fly away. 
 The caterpillar, however, is irreparably de- 
 stroyed, it never changes into a chrysalis, but 
 dies shortly after from the injuries it had sus- 
 tained. 
 
 Such is the history of this fly, which, though 
 very terrible to the insect tribe, fails not to be 
 of infinite service to mankind. The millions 
 which it kills in a single summer, are incon- 
 ceivable ; and without such a destroyer, the 
 fruits of the earth would only rise to furnish a 
 banquet for the insect race, to the exclu- 
 sion of all the nobler ranks of animated na- 
 ture, 
 
 CHAPTER CXCIII, 
 
 OF THE ANT. 
 
 THOUGH the number of two-winged flies 
 be very great, and the naturalists have taken 
 much pains to describe their characters and 
 varieties ; yet there is such a similitude in their 
 forms and manners, that, in a work like this, 
 one description must serve for all. We now, 
 therefore, come to. a species of four-winged 
 insects, that are famous from all antiquity for 
 their social and industrious habits, that are 
 marked for their spirit of subordination, that 
 are offered as a pattern of parsimony to the 
 profuse, and of unremitting diligence to the 
 sluggard. 
 
 In. the experiments, however, which hare 
 been more recently made, and the observa- 
 tions which have been taken, much of their 
 boasted frugality and precaution seems denied 
 them: the treasures they lay up are no lon- 
 ger supposed intended for future provision j 
 and the choice they make in their stores, 
 seems no way dictated by wisdom. It is, in- 
 deed, somewhat surprising, that almost every 
 writer of antiquity should describe this insect, 
 as labouring in the summer, and feasting upon 
 the produce during the winter. Perhaps, in 
 ome of the warmer climates, where the 
 
THE ANT. 
 
 815 
 
 ter is mild, and of short continuance, this may 
 take place; but in France and England, 
 these animals can have no manner of occa 
 sion for a supply of winter provisions, as they 
 are actually in a state of torpidity during that 
 season. 
 
 The common* ants of Europe are of two or 
 three different kinds; some red, some black; 
 some with sth>gs, and others without: such 
 as have stings, inflict their wounds in that 
 manner; such as are unprovided with inese 
 weapons of defence, have a power of spurting 
 from their hinder parts an acid pungent 
 liquor, which, if it lights upon the skin, in- 
 flames and burns it like nettles. 
 
 The body of an ant is divided into the 
 head, breast, and belly. In the head the 
 eyes are placed, which are entirely black, 
 and under their eyes there are two small 
 horns or feelers, composed of twelve joints, 
 all covered with a fine silky hair. The mouth 
 is furnished with two crooked jaws, which 
 project outwards, in each of which are seen 
 incisures, that look like teeth. The breast 
 is covered with a fine silky hair, from which 
 project six legs, that are pretty strong and 
 hairy, the extremities of each armed with two 
 small claws, which the animal uses in climb- 
 ing. The belly is more reddish than ihe rest 
 of the body, which is of a brown chesnut 
 colour, shining as glass, and covered with ex- 
 tremely fine hair. 
 
 From such a formation, this animal seems 
 bolder and more active, for its size, than any 
 other of the insect tribe, and fears not to at- 
 tack a creature often above ten times its own 
 magnitude. 
 
 As soon as the winter is past, in the first 
 fine day in April, the ant-hill, that before 
 seemed a desert, now swarms with new lile, 
 and myriads of these insects are seen just 
 awaked from their annual lethargy, and pre- 
 paring for the pleasures and fatigues of the 
 season. For the first day they -never otter 
 to leave the hill, which may be considered 
 as their citadel, but run over every part of 
 it, as if to examine its present situation, to 
 observe what injuries it has sustained during 
 the rigours of winter,' while they slept, and 
 
 (a) Memoires pour servir sk 1'Histoire des Insectes par 
 Charles de Geer. 
 
 to meditate and settle the labours of the day 
 ensuing. 
 
 At the first display of their forces, none 
 but the wingless tribe appears, while those 
 furnished with wings remain at the bottom. 
 These are the working ants that first appear, 
 and that are always destitute of wings ; the 
 males and females, that are furnished with 
 four large wings each, are more slow in 
 making their appearance. 
 
 Thus, like bees, they are divided into males, 
 females, and the neutral or the working tribe. 
 These are all easily distinguished from each 
 other; the females are much larger than the 
 males ; the working ants are the smallest of 
 all. The two former have wings; which, 
 however, (hey sometimes are divested of; 
 the latter never have any, and upon them are 
 devolved 'all the labours that tend to the wel- 
 fare of the community. The female, also, 
 may be distinguished by the colour and struc- 
 ture of her breast, which is a little more 
 brown than that of the common ant, and a 
 little brighter than that of the male. 
 
 In eight or ten days after their first ap- 
 pearance, the labours of the hill are in some 
 forwardness ; the males and females are seen 
 mixed with the working multitude, and pur- 
 sued or pursuing each other. They seem no 
 way to partake in the common drudgeries of 
 the state : the males pursue the females with 
 great assiduity, and in a manner force them 
 to compliance. They remain coupled for 
 some time ; while the males, thus united, 
 suffer themselves to be drawn along by the 
 will of their partners. 
 
 In the mean time, the working body of the 
 state take no part in their pleasures; they 
 are seen diligently going from the ant-hill, in 
 pursuit of food for themselves and their asso- 
 ciates, and of proper materials for giving a 
 comfortable retreat to their young, or safety 
 to their habitation. In the fields of England, 
 ant-hills are formed with but little apparent 
 regularity. In the more southern provinces 
 of Europe they are constructed with wonder- 
 ful contrivance, and oflR-r a sight highly 
 worthy a naturalist's curiosity. These arc 
 generally formed in the neighbourhood of 
 some large tree and a stream of water. The 
 one is considered by the animals as the pro- 
 per place for getting food ; the other for sup- 
 
816 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 plying them with moisture, which they can- 
 not well dispense with. The shape of the 
 ant-hill is that of a sugar-loaf, about three 
 feet high, composed of various substances; 
 leaves, bits of wood, sand, earth, bits of gum, 
 and grains of corn. These are all united 
 into a compact body, perforated with galle- 
 ries down to the bottom, and winding ways 
 within the body of the structure. From this 
 retreat, to the water, as well as to the tree, 
 in different directions, there are many paths 
 worn by constant assiduity, and along these 
 the busy insects are seen passing and repass- 
 ing continually; so that from May, or the be- 
 gi'ining of June, according to the state of the 
 season, they work continually, till the bad 
 weather comes on. 
 
 The chief employment of the working-ants, 
 is in sustaining not only the idlers at home, 
 but also finding a sufficiency of food for them- 
 selves. They live upon various provisions, 
 as well of the vegetable as of the animal kind. 
 Small insects they will kill and devour: 
 sweets of all kinds they are particularly fond 
 of. They seldom, however, think of their 
 community, till they themselves are first 
 satiated. Having found a juicy fruit, they 
 swallow what they can, and then tearing it in 
 pieces, carry home their load. If they meet 
 with an insect above their match, several of 
 them will fall upon it at once, and having 
 mangled it, each will carry off a part of the 
 spoil. If they meet, in their excursions, any 
 thing that is too heavy for one to bear, and 
 yet which they are unable to divide, several 
 of them will endeavour to force it along, some 
 dragging, and others pushing. If any one of 
 them happens to make a lucky discovery, it 
 will immediately give advice to others, and 
 then, at once, the whole republic will put 
 themselves in motion. If in these struggles 
 one of them happens to be killed, some kind 
 survivor will carry him off to a great distance, 
 to prevent the obstructions his body might 
 give to the general spirit of industry. 
 
 But while they are thus employed in sup- 
 porting the state in feeding abroad, and car- 
 rying in provisions to those that continue at 
 home, they are not unmindful of posterity. 
 After a few days of fine weather, the female 
 ants begin to lay their eggs, and those areas 
 assiduously watched and protected by the 
 
 working ants, who take upon themselves to 
 supply whatever is wanting to the nascent 
 animal's convenience or necessity. They 
 are carried, as soon as laid, to the safest 
 situation, at the bottom of their hill, where 
 they are carefully defended from cold and 
 moisture. We are not to suppose, that those 
 white substances which we so plentifully find 
 in every ant-hill, are the eggs as newly laid. 
 On the contrary, the ant's egg is so very 
 small, that, though laid upon a black ground, 
 it can scarcely be discerned. The little 
 white bodies we see are the young animals 
 in their maggot state, endued with life, long 
 since freed from the egg, and often involved 
 in a cone, which it has spun round itself, like 
 the silkworm. The real egg when laid, if 
 viewed throughamicroscope,appears smooth, 
 polished, and shining, while the maggot is 
 seen composed of twelve rings, and is often 
 larger than the ant itself. It is impossible 
 to express the fond attachment which the 
 working ants show to their rising progeny. 
 In cold weather they take them in their 
 mouths, but without offering them the smallest 
 injury, to the very depths of their habitation, 
 where they are less subject to the severity of 
 the season. In a fine day they remove them 
 with the same care nearer the surface, where 
 their maturity may be assisted by the warm 
 beams of the sun. If a formidable enemy 
 should come to batter down their whole habi- 
 tation, and crush them by thousands in the 
 ruin, yet these wonderful insects, still mind- 
 ful of their parental duties, make it their first 
 care to save their offspring. They are seen 
 running wildly about, and different ways, 
 each loaded with a young one, often bigger 
 than the insect that supports it. I have kept,' 
 says Swammerdam, several of the working 
 ants in my closet, with their young in a glass 
 tilled with earth. I took pleasure in observ- 
 ing, that in proportion as the earth dried 
 on the surface, they dug deeper and deeper 
 to deposite their eggs ; and when I poured 
 water thereon, it was surprising to see with 
 what care, affection, and diligence, they la- 
 boured, to put their brood in safety, in (he 
 driest place. I have seen also, that when 
 water has been wanting for several days, and 
 when the earth was moistened after it a little, 
 they immediately carried their young ones to 
 
THE ANT. 
 
 817 
 
 have a share, who seemed to enjoy and suck 
 the moisture. 
 
 When the young maggot is corne to its full 
 growth, the breast swells insensibly, it casts 
 its skin, anil loses all motion. All the mem- 
 bers which were hidden before, then begin 
 to appear; an aurelia is formed, which re- 
 presents very distinctly all the parts of the 
 animal, though they are yet without motion, 
 and, as it were, wrapped up in swaddling 
 clothes. When at length the little insect has 
 passed through all its changes, and acquired 
 its proper maturity, it bursts this last skin, to 
 assume the form it is to retain ever after. 
 Yet this is not done by efforts of the little 
 animal alone, for the old ones very assiduous- 
 ly break open with their teeth the covering 
 in which it is enclosed. Without this assist- 
 ance the aurelia would never be able to get 
 free, as M. de Gear often found, who tried 
 the experiment by leaving the aurelia to 
 themselves. The old ones not only assist 
 them, but know the very precise time for 
 lending their assistance : for, if produced too 
 soo.i, the young one dies of cold ; if retarded 
 too long, it is suffocated in its prison. 
 
 When the female has done laying, and the 
 whole brood is thus produced, her labours, 
 as well as that of the male, become unne- 
 cessary: and her wings, which she had but 
 a short time before so actively employed, 
 drop off! What becomes of her when thus 
 divested of her ornaments is not well known, 
 for she is seen in the cells for some weeks 
 after. ' The males, on the other hand, having 
 no longer any occupation at home, make use 
 of those wings with which they have been 
 furnished by nature, and fly away, never to 
 re: HIM or he heard of more. It is probable 
 they perish with the cold, or are devoured 
 by t!ir- birds, which are particularly fond of 
 this petty prey. 
 
 In the mean time, the working ants having 
 probably deposed their queens, and being 
 deserted by the males, that served but to clog 
 the co'iitnunity, prepare for the severity of 
 the winter, and bury their retreats as deep 
 in the earth as they conveniently can. It is 
 no'-v found that the grains of corn, and other 
 substances with which they furnish their hill, 
 are only meant as fences to keep off the ri- 
 gours of the weather, not as provisions to sup- 
 
 port them during its continuance. It is found 
 generally to obtain, that every insect that 
 lives a year after it is come to its full growth, 
 is obliged to pass four or five months without 
 taking any nourishment, and will seem to be 
 dead all that time. It would be to no pur- 
 pose, therefore, for ants to lay up com for the 
 winter, since they lie that time without mo- 
 tion, heaped upon each other, and are so far 
 from eating, that they are utterly unable to 
 stir. Thus, what authors have dignified by 
 the name of a magazine, appears to be no 
 more than a cavity, which serves lor a com- 
 mon retreat when the weather forces them to 
 return to their letliargic state. ' 
 
 What has been said with exaggeration of 
 the European ant, is however true, if assert- 
 ed of those of the tropical climates. They 
 build an ant-hill with great contrivance and 
 regularity, they lay up provisions, and :>s 
 they probably live the whole year, they sub- 
 mit themselves to regulations entirely un- 
 known among the ants of Europe. 
 
 Those of Africa are of three kinds, the red, 
 the green, and the black ; the latter are 
 above an inch long, and in every respect a 
 most formidable insect. Their sling pro- 
 duces extreme pain, and their depredations 
 are sometimes extremely destructive. They 
 build an ant-hill of a very great size, from six 
 to twelve feet high ; it is made of viscous clay, 
 and tapers intoa pyramidal form. This habita- 
 tion is constructed with great artifice ; and 
 the cells are so numerous and even, that a 
 honey-comb scarce exceeds them in number 
 and regularity. 
 
 The inhabitants of this edifice seem to be 
 under a very strict regulation. At the slight- 
 est warning they will sally out upon whatever 
 disturbs them ; and if they have time to arrest 
 their enemy, he is sure to find no mercy. 
 Sheep, hens, and even rats, are often destroy- 
 ed by these merciless insects, and their flesh 
 devoured to the bone. No anatomist in the 
 world can strip a skeleton so completely as 
 they ; and no animal, how strong soever, 
 when they have once seized upon it, has 
 power to resist them. 
 
 It often happens that these insects quit 
 their retreat in a body, and go in quest of 
 adventures. ' During my stay." says Smith, 
 " at Cape Coast Castle, a body of these ants 
 
818 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 came to pay us a visit in our fortification. It 
 was about day-break when the advanced 
 guard of this famished crew entered the 
 chapel, where some negro servants were 
 asleep upon the floor. The men were quick- 
 ly alarmed at the invasion of this unexpected 
 army, and prepared, as well as they could, 
 for a defence. While the foremost battalion 
 of insects had already taken possession of the 
 place, the rear-guard was more than a quar- 
 ter of a mile distant. The whole ground 
 seemed alive, and crawling with unceasing 
 destruction. After deliberating a few mo- 
 ments upon what was to be done, it was re- 
 solved to lay a large train of gunpowder along 
 
 the path they had taken : by this means mil- 
 lions were blown to pieces; and the rear- 
 guard perceiving the destruction of their 
 leaders, thought proper instantly to return 
 and make back to their original habitation." 
 The order which these ants observe, seems 
 very extraordinary ; whenever they sally forth, 
 fifty or sixty larger than the rest are seen to 
 head the band, and conduct them to their 
 destined prey. If they have a fixed spot 
 where their prey continues to resort, they 
 then form a vaulted gallery, which is some- 
 times a quarter of a mile in length; and yet 
 they will hollow it out in the space of ten or 
 twelve hours.* 
 
 CHAPTER CXX1V. 
 
 OF THE BEETLE, AND ITS VARIETIES. 
 
 HITHERTO we have been treating of 
 insects with four transparent wings, we now 
 come to a tribe with two transparent wings, 
 witli cases that cover them close while at 
 rest, but which allow them their proper play 
 when flying. The principal of these are the 
 Beetle, the May-bug, and the Cantharis. 
 These are all bred like the rest of their or- 
 der, first from eggs, then they become grubs, 
 then a chrysalis, in which the parts of the 
 future fly are distinctly seen; and, lastly, the 
 animal leaves its prison, breaking forth as a 
 winged animal in full maturity. 
 
 Of the Beetle there are various kinds ; all, 
 however, concurring in one common forma- 
 tion of having cases to their wings, which are 
 the more necessary to those insects, as they 
 often live under the surface of the earth, in 
 holes which they dig out by their own indus- 
 
 (a) But far exceeding in wisdom and policy the Bee, 
 the Ant, or the Beaver, is the White Ant, inhabiting the 
 plains of East India, Africa, and South America. The 
 animals of this extraordinary community consist of work- 
 ing insects or labourers, about half an inch long, having 
 six feet, and no eyes ; fighting insects or soldiers, about 
 an inch long, with a large head, and no eyes; and the 
 perfect male and female insect, which alone are furnished 
 with wings. They build pyramidal structures, ten or 
 
 try. These cases prevent the various inju- 
 ries their real wings might sustain, by rubbing 
 or crushing against the sides of their abode. 
 These, though they do not assist flight, yet 
 keep the internal wings clean and even, and 
 produce a loud buzzing noise when the ani- 
 mal rises in the air. 
 
 If we examine the formation of all animals 
 of the beetle kind, we shall find, as in shell- 
 fish, that their bones are placed externally, 
 and their muscles within. These muscles 
 are formed very much like those of quadru- 
 peds, and are endued with such surprising 
 strength, that, bulk for bulk, they are a thou- 
 sand times stronger than those of a man. 
 The strength of these muscles is of use in 
 digging the animal's subterraneous abode, 
 where it is most usually hatched, and to 
 which it most frequently returns, even after 
 
 twelve feet in height, and divided into appropriate apart- 
 ments. These are so firmly cemented together, that they 
 will easily bear the weight of four or five men to stand 
 upon them : and in the vast plains of Senegal, they ap- 
 pear like the huts of -the natives. After impregnation, 
 the abdomen of the female grows to a prodigious bulk, 
 and she actually protrudes to the amount of eight thou- 
 sand eggs in twenty-four hours. 
 
THE BEETLE. 
 
 819 
 
 it becomes a winged insect, capable of fly- 
 ing. 
 
 Beside the difference which results from the 
 shape and colour of these animals, the size 
 also makes a considerable one ; some beetles 
 faring not larger than the head of a pin, while 
 others, such as the elephant-beetle, are as big 
 as one's fist. But the greatest difference 
 among them is, that some are produced in a 
 month, and in a single season go through all 
 th suges of their existence ; while others take 
 near four years to their production, and live 
 as winded insects a year more. To give the 
 history of all these animals, that are bred 
 pretty much in the same way, would be insipid 
 and endless ; it will suffice to select one or two 
 from the number, the origin of which may 
 serve as specimens of the rest. I will, there- 
 fore, offer the history of the May-bug to the 
 reader's attention ; premising that most other 
 beetles, though not so long-lived, are bred in 
 the same itianner. 
 
 The May-bug, or dor-beetle, as some call 
 it, lias, like all the rest, a pair of cases to its 
 wings, which are of a reddish brown colour, 
 sprinkled with a whitish dust, which easily 
 co nes off. In some years their necks are 
 seen covered with a red plate, and in others 
 with a black ; these, however, are distinct 
 sorts, and their difference is by no means ac- 
 cidental. The fore-legs are very short, and 
 the better calculated for burrowing in the 
 ground, where this insect makes its retreat. 
 It is well known, for its evening buzz, to 
 children ; but still more formidably introduced 
 to the acquaintance of husbandmen and gar- 
 deners ; for, in some seasons, it has been found 
 to swarm in such numbers, as to eat up every 
 vegetable production. 
 
 The two sexes in the May-bug are easily 
 distinguished from each other, by the superior 
 length -if the tufts, at the end of the horns, in 
 the male. Tiiev begin to copulate in summer; 
 and, at that season, they are seen joined toge- 
 ther a considerable time. The female being 
 impregnated, quickly falls to boring a hole 
 into the ground, where to deposite her bur- 
 den. This is generally about half a foot deep, 
 and in it sii places her eggs, which are of an 
 ob'onn shape, \>h great regularity, one by 
 the other. They are of a bright yellow 
 colour, and no w y wrapped up in a common 
 covering, as some have imagined. When the 
 wo. 60 & 70 
 
 female is lightened of her burden, she again 
 ascends from her hole, to live as before, upon 
 leaves and vegetables, to buzz in the summer 
 evening, and to lie hid among the branches of 
 trees in the heat of the day. 
 
 In about three months after these eggs have 
 been thus deposited in the earth, the contain- 
 ed insect begins to break its shell, and a small 
 grub or maggot crawls forth, and feeds upon 
 the roots of whatever vegetable it happens to 
 be nearest. 
 
 All substances of this kind seem equally 
 grateful, yet it is probable the mother insect 
 has a choice among what kind of vegetables 
 she shall deposite her young. In this manner 
 these voracious creatures continue in the worm 
 state, for more than three years, devouring 
 the roots of every plant they approach, and 
 making their way under ground, in quest of 
 food, with great despatch and facility. At 
 length they grow to above the size of a wal- 
 nut, being a great thick white maggot with a 
 red head, which is seen most frequently in 
 new-turned earth, and which is so eagerly 
 sought after by birds of every species. When 
 largest, they are found an inch and a half 
 long, of a whitish yellow colour, with a body 
 consisting of twelve segments or joints, on 
 each side of which there are nine bieathing- 
 holes, and three red feet. The head is large 
 in proporton to the body, of a reddish colour, 
 with a pincer before, and a semi-circular lip, 
 with which it cuts the roots of plants, and 
 sucks out their moisture. As this insect lives 
 entirely under ground, it lias no occasion for 
 eyes, and accordingly it is found to have 
 none ; but is furnished with two feelers, 
 which, like the crutch of a blind man, serve to 
 direct its motion. Such is the form of this 
 animal, that lives for years in the worm state 
 under ground, still voracious, and every year 
 changing its skin. 
 
 It is not till the end of the fourth year, that 
 this extraordinary insect prepares to emerge 
 from its subterraneous abode, and even this is 
 not effected, but by a tedious preparation. 
 About the l.uter end of autumn, t e grub he- 
 gins to perceive the approach of its transfor- 
 mation : it then buries itself deeper and deeper 
 in the earth, sometimes six feet beneath the 
 surface, and there forms itself a capacious 
 apartment, the walls of which it renders very 
 smooth and shining by the excretions of its 
 
 5X 
 
820 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 body. Its abode being thus formed, it begins, 
 soon after, to shorten itself, to swell, and to 
 burst its last skin, in order to assume the form 
 of a chrysalis. This, in the beginning, ap- 
 pears of a yellowish colour, which heightens 
 by degrees, till at last it is seen nearly red. 
 Its exterior form plainly discovers all the 
 vestiges of the future winged insect, all the 
 fore-parts being distinctly seen ; while, behind, 
 the animal seems as if wrapped in swaddling 
 clothes. 
 
 The young May-bug continues in this state 
 for about three months lunger ; and it is not 
 till the beginning of January that the aurelia 
 divests itself of all its impediments, and be- 
 comes a winged insect, completely formed. 
 Yet still the animal is far from attaining its 
 natural strength, health, and appetite. It un- 
 dergoes a kind of infant imbecility ; and, un- 
 like most other insects, that the instant they 
 beconv; flies are arrived at their state of full 
 perfection, the May-bug continues feeble and 
 sickly. Its colour is much brighter than in 
 the perfect animal, all its parts are soft, and its 
 voracious nature seems, for a while, to have 
 entirely forsaken it. As the animal is very 
 often found in this state, it is supposed, bv 
 those unacquainted with its real history, that 
 the old ones, of the former season, have buried 
 themselves for the winter, in order to revisit 
 the sun the ensuing summer. But the fact is, 
 the old one never survives the season, but 
 dies, like all the other winged tribe of insects, 
 fro >n the severity of cold in winter. 
 
 About the latter end of May, these insects, 
 after having lived for four years under ground, 
 burst from the earth, when the first mild even- 
 ing invites them abroad. They are at that 
 time seen rising from their long imprisonment, 
 fro n living only upon roots, and imbibing 
 only the moisture of the earth, to visit the 
 mildness of the summer air, to choose the 
 sweetest vegetables for their banquet, and to 
 drink the dew of the evening. Wherever an 
 attentive observer then walks abroad, he will 
 see them bursting up before him in his pathway, 
 like ghosts on a theatre. He will see every 
 part of the earth, that had its surface beat into 
 hardness, perforated by their egression. When 
 the season is favourable for them, they are 
 seen by myriads buzzing along, hitting against 
 every object that intercepts their flight. The 
 mid-day sun, however, seems too powerful for 
 
 their constitutions ; they then lurk under the 
 leaves and branches of some shady tree : but 
 the willow seems particularly their most 
 favourite food ; there they lurk in clustrrs, 
 and seldom quit the tree till they have devour- 
 ed all its verdure. In those seasons which 
 are favourable to their propagation, they are 
 seen in an evening as thick as flakes of snow, 
 and hitting against every object with a sort 
 of capricious blindness. Their duration, how- 
 ever, is but short, as they mver survive the 
 season. They begin to join shortly after they 
 have been let loose from their prison, and 
 when the female is impregnated, she cautious- 
 ly bores a hole in the ground, with an instru- 
 ment fitted for that purpose, which she is fur- 
 nished with at the tail, and there deposiu-s her 
 eggs, generally tt> the number of threescore. 
 If the season and the soi! be adapted to their 
 propagation, these soon multiply, as already 
 described, and go through the noxious stages 
 of their contemptible existence. This insect, 
 however, in its worm state, though prejudicial 
 to man, makes one of the chief repasts of the 
 feathered tribe, and is generally the first nou- 
 rishment with which they supply their young. 
 Rooks and hogs are particularly fond of these 
 worms, and devour them in great numbers. 
 The inhabitants of the county of Norfolk, some 
 time since, went into the practice of destroy- 
 ing their rookeries ; but in proportion as they 
 destroyed one plague, they were pestered with 
 a greater ; and these insects multiplied in such 
 an amazing abundance, as to destroy not only 
 the verdure of the fields, but even the roots of 
 vegetables not yet shot forth. One farm in 
 particular was so injured by them in the year 
 1751, that the occupier was not able to pay 
 his rent, and the landlord was content not 
 only to lose his income f >r that year, but also 
 gave money for the support of the farmer and 
 his family. In Ireland they suffered so much 
 by these insects, that they came to a resolu- 
 tion of setting fire to a wood, of some miles in 
 extent, to prevent their mischievous propaga- 
 tion. 
 
 Of all the beetle kind, this is the most nu- 
 merous, and therefore deserves the chief atten- 
 tion of history. The numerous varieties of 
 other kinds might repay the curiosity of the 
 diligent observer, but we must be content iu 
 general o observe, that in the great outlines 
 of their history, they resemble those of which 
 
THE BEETLE. 
 
 821 
 
 we have just been giving a description; like 
 them, all other beetles are bred from the egg, 
 which is deposited in the ground, or so ne- 
 times, (hough seldom, in the barks of trees ; 
 they change into a worm ; they subsist in that 
 state by living upon ihe roots of vegetables, 
 or the succulent parts of the bark round them. 
 They generally live a year at least before they 
 change into an au relit-; ; in that stale th<y are 
 not entirely motioniesc, nor entirely swaddled 
 up without form. 
 
 It would be tedious and endless to give a 
 description of all ; and yet it would bean un- 
 pardoimble omission not to mention the par- 
 ticularities of some beetles, which are singul ir 
 rather from their size, their manners, or their 
 for nation. That beetle, which the Americans 
 call the Tumble-dune;, particularly demands 
 our attention ; it is ali over of a dusky black, 
 rounder than those animals are generally 
 found to be, and so strong, though not much 
 larger than the common black beetle, that if 
 one of them be put under a brass candlestick, 
 it will cause it to move backwards and for- 
 wards, as if it were by an invisible hand, to 
 the admiration of those who are not accus- 
 tomed to the sight ; but this strength is given 
 it for much more useful purposes than those of 
 exciting human curiosity, for there is no crea- 
 ture more laborious, either in seeking subsis- 
 tence, or in providing a proper retreat for its 
 young. They are endowed with sagacity to 
 discover subsistence by tiiHr excellent smelling, 
 which directs them in (lights to excrements 
 just fallen from man or beast, on which they 
 instantly drop, and foil unanimously to work 
 in forming round balls or pellets thereof, in 
 the middle of which they lay an egg. These 
 pellets, in September, they convey three feet 
 deep in the earth, where they lie till the ap- 
 proach of spring ; when the eggs are hatched 
 the nests burst, and the insects find their way 
 out of the earth. They assist each other with 
 indefatigable industry, in rolling these globu- 
 lar pellets to the place where they are to be 
 buried. This they are to perform with the 
 tail foremost, bv raising up their hinder part, 
 and shoving along the ball with their hind 
 feet. They are always accompanied with 
 
 fa) The crepitating Beetle has a very singular method 
 of defending itself, and annoying its enemies. When- 
 ever it is touched it makes a report, not unlike the dis- 
 
 other beetles of a larger size, and of a more 
 elegant structure and colour. The breast of 
 this is covered with a shield of a crimson 
 colour, and shining like metal ; the head is of 
 the like colour, mixed with green, and on the 
 crown of the head stands a shining black horn, 
 bended backwards. These are called the 
 kings of the beetles : but for what reason is 
 uncertain, since they partake of the same dirty 
 drudgery with the rest. 
 
 The Elephant-Beetle is the largest of this 
 kind hitherto known, and is found in South 
 America, particularly Guiana and Surinam, 
 as well as about the river Oroonoko. It is of 
 a black colour, and the whole body is covered 
 with a very hard shell, full as thick and as 
 strong as that of a small crab. Its length, 
 from the hinder part to the eyes, is almost four 
 inches, and from the same part to the end of 
 the proboscis, or trunk, four inches and three 
 quarters. The transverse diameter of the 
 body is two inches and a quarter, and the 
 breadth of each elytron, or case for the wings, 
 is an inch and three-tenths. The attennae, 
 or feelers, are quite horny ; for which reason 
 the proboscis, or trunk, is moveable at its in- 
 sertion into the head, and seems to supply the 
 place of feelers. The horns are eight-tenths 
 of an inch long, and terminate in points. The 
 proboscis is an inch and a quarter long, and 
 turns upwards, making a crooked line, ter- 
 minating in two horns, each of which is near 
 a quarter of an inch long; but they are not 
 perforated at the end like the proboscis of 
 other insects. About four-tenths of an inch 
 above the head, or that side next the body, is 
 a prominence or small horn, which, if the 
 rest of the trunk were away, would cause this 
 part to resemble the horn of a rhinoceros. 
 There is indeed a beetle so called, but then 
 the horns or trunk has no fork at the end, 
 though the lower horn resembles this. The 
 feet are all forked at the end, but not like lob- 
 sters' claws." 
 
 To this class we may also refer the Glow- 
 worm, that little animal which makes such a 
 distinguished figure in the descriptions of our 
 poets. No two insects can differ more than 
 the male and female of this species from each 
 
 charge of a musket in miniature ; and this discharge is 
 accompanied with a blue vapour highly acrimonious and 
 pungent. 
 
 5X 
 
822 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 other. The male is in every respect a beetle, 
 having cases to its wings, and rising in the 
 air at pleasure ; the female, on the contrary, 
 has none, hut is entirely a creeping insect, 
 and is obliged to wait the approaches of her 
 capricious companion. The body of the fe- 
 male has eleven joints, with a shield breast- 
 plate, the shape of which is oval ; the head 
 is placed over this, and is very small, and the 
 three last joints of her body are of a yellow- 
 ish colour; but what distinguishes it from all 
 other animals, at least in this part of the 
 world, is the shining light which it emits by 
 night, and which is supposed by some philo- 
 sophers to be an emanation which she sends 
 forth to allure the mule to her company. 
 Most travellers who have gone through sandy 
 countries, must well remember the little 
 shining sparks with which the ditches are 
 studded on each side of the road. If incited 
 b^ curiosity to approach more nearly, he 
 will fiiid this light sent forth by the glow- 
 worm ; if he should keep the little animal for 
 some time, its light continues to grow paler, 
 and at last appears totally extinct. The 
 manner in which this light is produced has 
 hitherto continued inexplicable; it is proba- 
 ble the little animal is supplied with some 
 electrical powers, so that by rubbing (he 
 joints of its body against each other, it thus 
 supplies a stream of light, which if it allures 
 the male, as we are told, serves for very use- 
 ful purposes. 
 
 The Cantharis is of the beette kind, from 
 whence come cantharides, well known in the 
 shops by the name of Spanish flies, and for 
 their use in blisters. They have feelers like 
 bristles, flexible cases to the wings, a breast 
 pretty plain, and the sides of the belly 
 wrinkled. Cantharides differ from each 
 other in their size, shape, and colour: those 
 used in the shops also do the same. The 
 largest in these parts are about an inch long, 
 and as much in circumference, but others are 
 not above three quarters of an inch. Some 
 are of a pure azure colour, others of pure 
 gold, and others again have a mixture of pure 
 gold and azure colours; but they are all very 
 brilliant, and extremely beautiful. These 
 insects, as is well known, are of the greatest 
 benefit to mankind, making a part in many 
 medicines conducive to human preservation. 
 
 They are chiefly natives of Spain, Italy, and 
 Portugal; but they are to be met wiiii id>o 
 about Paris in the summer time, upon the 
 leaves of the ash. the poplar, and the rose- 
 trees, and also among wheat, and in meadows. 
 It is very certain, that these insects are tend 
 of ash-leaves, insomuch that thej will some- 
 times strip one of these trees quite bare. 
 Some ailirm that these flies delight in eweet- 
 smelling herbs; and it is very certain, that 
 they are fond of honeysuckles, lilac, and uild- 
 cherry shrubs; but some that have sought 
 after them declare they never could find them 
 on elder-trees, nut-trees, and among wheat. 
 We are told, that the country people expect 
 the return of these insects every seven } ears. 
 It is very certain, that such a number oi these 
 insects have been seen together in the air r 
 that they appeared like swarms of bees ; and 
 that they have so disagreeable a smell, that 
 it may be perceived a great way off! especial- 
 ly about sun-set, though they are not seen at 
 that time. This bad smell is a guide for 
 those who make it their business to catch 
 them. When they are caught they dry them, 
 after which they are so light, that fifly will 
 hardly weigh a dram. Those that gather 
 them tie them in a bag, or a piece of linen 
 cloth, that has been well worn, and then they 
 kill them with the vapours of hot vinegar, 
 after which they dry them in the sun, and 
 keep them in boxes. These flies, thus dried, 
 being chymically analyzed, yield a great deal 
 of volatile caustic salt, mixed with a little oil, 
 phlegm, and earth. Cantharides are pene- 
 trating, corrosive, and, applied to the skin, 
 raise blisters, from whence proceeds a great 
 deal of serocity. They are made use of 
 both inwardly and outwardly. However, it 
 is somewhat strange that the effects of these 
 flies should fall principally upon the urinary 
 passages ; for though some authors h;ive en- 
 deavoured to account for this, we are still in 
 the dark, for all they have said amounts to 
 no more than that they affect these parts in a 
 manner which may be very learnedly describ- 
 ed, but very obscurely comprehended. 
 
 An insect of great, though perhaps not 
 equal use in medicine, is that which is known 
 by the name of the Kermes; it is produced 
 in the excrescence of an ojik, called the 
 berry-bearing ilex, and appears at first wrapt 
 
THE COCHINEAL. 
 
 823 
 
 up in a membranaceous bladder, of the size 
 ot t p"a. s/uootii .i.iii shining, uf a browmsh- 
 red colour, and covered with a very fine ash- 
 coloured powder. This bag teems with a 
 number ot reddish eggs or insects, which be- 
 ing rubbed with the lingers pour out a crim- 
 son liquor. It is only met with in warm 
 countries in the months of May and June. In 
 the month of April this insect becomes of the 
 size ami shape of a pea, and its eggs some 
 time after burst from the womb, and soon 
 turning worms, run about the branches and 
 leaves of the tree. They are of two sexes, 
 and the (females have been hitherto described; 
 but the males are very distinct from the for- 
 mer, and are a sort of small flies like gnats, 
 with six feet, of which the four forward are 
 short, and the two backward long, divided 
 into four joints, and armed with three crook- 
 ed nails. There are two feelers on the head, 
 a line and a half long, which are moveable, 
 streaked, and articulated. The tail, at the 
 back part of the body, is half a line long, and 
 forked. The whole body is covered with 
 two transparent wings, and they leap about 
 in the manner of fleas. The harvest of the 
 kermes is greater or less in proportion to the 
 severity of the winter, and the women gather 
 them before sun-rising, tearing them off with 
 their nails, for fear there should be any loss 
 from the hatching of the insects. They 
 sprinkle them with vinegar, and lay them in 
 the sun to dry, where they acquire a red 
 colour. 
 
 An insect, perhaps still more useful than 
 either of the former, is the Cochineal, which 
 has been very variously described by authors: 
 some have supposed it a vegetable excres- 
 cence from the tree upon which it is found ; 
 some have described it as a louse; some, as 
 a bug; and some, as a beetle. As they ap- 
 pear in our shop* when brought from Ameri- 
 ca, they are of an irregular shape, convex on 
 one side, and a little concave on the other: 
 but are both marked with transverse streaks 
 or wrinkles. They are of a scarlet colour 
 within, and without of a blackish red. and 
 sometimes of a white, reddish, or ash-col ;iir. 
 which are accounted the best, and are 
 brought us from Mexico. The cochineal in- 
 sect is of an oval form, of (ho size of a small 
 pea, with six feet, and a suout or trunk. It 
 
 brings forth its young alive, and is nourished 
 by sucking the juice of the plant. Its body 
 consists of several rings, and when it is once 
 fixed on the plant, it continues immoveable, 
 being subject to no change. Some pretend 
 there an- two sorts, the one domestic, which 
 is best; and the other wild, that is of a vivid 
 colour : however, they appear to be the same, 
 only with this difference, that the wild feeds 
 upon uncultivated trees, without any assist- 
 ance, whereas the domestic is carefully, at a 
 stated season, removed to cultivated trees, 
 where it feeds upon a purer juice. Those 
 who take care of these insects, place them 
 on the prickly-pear plant in a certain order, 
 and are very industrious in defending them 
 from other insects; for if any other kind 
 come among them, they take care to brush 
 them off with foxes' tails. Towards the end 
 of the year, when the rains and cold weather 
 are coming on, which are fatal to these in- 
 sects, they take off the leaves or branches 
 covered with cochineal, that have not attain- 
 ed their utmost degree of perfection, and 
 keep them in their houses till winter is past. 
 These leaves are very thick and juicy, and 
 supply them with sufficient nourishment, while 
 they remain within doors. When the milder 
 weather returns, and these animals are about 
 to exclude their young, the natives make 
 them nests, like those of birds, but less, of 
 tree moss, or soft hay, or the down of cocoa- 
 nuts, placing twelve in every nest. These 
 they fix on the thorns of the prickly-pear 
 plant, and in three or four days' time they 
 bring forth their young, which leave their 
 nests in a few days, and creep upon the- 
 br.mches of the plant, till they find a proper 
 place to rest in, and take in their nourish- 
 ment ; and until the females are fecundated 
 bv the males, which, as in the former tribe, 
 differ very widely from the females, being- 
 winged insects, whereas the others only 
 creep, and are at most stationary. When 
 they are impregnated, they produce a new 
 offspring, so that the propagator has a new 
 harvest thrice a year. When the native 
 Americans have gathered the cochineal, they 
 put them into holes in the ground, where they 
 kill them with boiling water, and afterwards 
 dry them in the sun, or in an oven, or lay 
 them upon hot plates. From the various 
 
824 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 methods of killing them, arise the different 
 colour- which they appear in when brought 
 to u-. While they are living they seem tc 
 be sprinkled over with a white powder, 
 which they lose as soon as the boiling water 
 is poured upon them. Those that are dried 
 upon hot plates are the blackest. What we 
 call the cochineal are only the females, for 
 the males are a sort of fly, p.s already observ- 
 ed in the kermes. They are used both for 
 dying and medicine, and are said to have 
 much the same virtue as the kernes, though 
 they are now seldom used alone, but are 
 mixed with other things for ths sa!:e of the 
 colour. 
 
 I shall end this account of the beetle tribe 
 with the history of an animal which cannot 
 properly be ranked under this species, n.nd 
 yet cannot be more methodically ranged un- 
 der any other. This is the insect that forms 
 and resides in the gall-nut, the spoils of 
 which are converted to such useful purposes. 
 The gall-insects are bred in a sort of bodies 
 adhering to a kind of oak in Asia, which dif- 
 fer with regard to their colour, size, rough- 
 ness, smoothness, and shape, and which we 
 call galls. They are not fruit, as some have 
 imagined, but preternatural tumours, owing to 
 the wounds given to the buds, leaves, and 
 twigs of the tree, by a kind of insects that 
 lay their eggs within them. This animal is 
 furnished with an implement, by which the 
 female penetrates into the bark of the tree, 
 or into that spot which just begins to bud, 
 and there sheds a drop of corrosive fluid into 
 the cavity. Having thus formed a recep- 
 tacle for her eggs, she deposites them in the 
 place, and dies soon after. The heart of the 
 bud beitig thus wounded, the circulation of 
 the nutritive juice is interrupted, and the fer- 
 mentation thereof, with the poison injected 
 by the fly, burns the parts adjacent, and then 
 alters the natural colour of the plant. The 
 juice or sap, turned back from its natural 
 course, extravasates, and flows round the egg. 
 
 (a) To the Beetle kind also belongs that little animal 
 which causes such alarm to the superstitious hy its ticking 
 noise, and which is often called the death-watch. It is 
 found in decayed trees and furniture, or among hay and 
 dried leaves. This noise is merely the call of one sex to 
 
 After which it swells and dilates by the as- 
 sistance of some bubbles of air, which get 
 admission through the pores of the bark, and 
 which run in the vessels with the sap. The 
 crterrial coat of this excrescence is dried by 
 the air, anil grows into a figure, which bears 
 some resemblance to the bow of an arch, or 
 the roundneso of a kernel. Ibis little ball 
 .-?:cves its nutriment, growth, and vegeiation, 
 as the other parts of the tree, by slow de- 
 grees, and is what we rail the gall-nut. 1 he 
 worm that is hatched under this spacious 
 vault, finds in the substance of the ball, which 
 is ao yet very tender, a subsistence suitable 
 toitsnaturs; gnaws and digests it till the 
 time cornes for its transformation to a nyinph, 
 and from that state of existence changes into 
 a fly. After this, the insect, perceiving'iiself 
 duly provided with all things requisite, dis- 
 engages itself soon from its confinement, and 
 takes its flight into the open air. The case, 
 however, is not similar with respect to the 
 gall-nut that grows in autumn. The cold 
 weather frequently comes on belbre the worm 
 is transformed into a fly, or before the fly can 
 pierce through its enclosure. The nut falls 
 with the leaves, and although you may imagine 
 that the fly which lies within is lost, yet in 
 reality it is not so ; on the contrary, its being 
 covered up so close, is the means of its | re- 
 servation. Thus it spends the winter in a 
 warm house, where every crack and cranny 
 of the nut is well stopped up; and lies buri- 
 ed, as it were, under a heap of leaves, which 
 preserves it from the injuries of the weather. 
 This apartment, however, though so commo- 
 dious a retreat in the winter, is a perfect 
 prison in the spring. The fly, roused out of 
 its lethargy by the first heats, breaks its way 
 through, and ranges where it pleases. A 
 very small aperture is sufficient, since at this 
 time the fly is but a diminutive creature. Be- 
 sides, the ringlets whereof its body is com- 
 posed, dilate, and become pliant in the pas- 
 sage." 
 
 the other, and is caused by the animal's beating on any 
 hard substance with the shield or fore part of the head j 
 which is always in seven, nine, or eleven distinct strokes. 
 A little insect, hardly the tenth of an inch lone;, often found 
 in old books, is sometimes falsely charged with this alarm* 
 
THE GNAT AND TIPULA. 
 
 825 
 
 CHAPTEtt CXCV. 
 
 OF THE GNAT AND TIPULA. 
 
 THERE are two insccf s which entirely re- 
 semble each other in their form, and yet wide- 
 ly differ in their habits, manners, and propa- 
 Eition. Those who have seen the Tipula, or 
 ong-lcgs, and the larger kind of Gnat, have 
 most probably mistaken the one for the other; 
 they have often accused the tipula, a harmless 
 insect, of depredations made by the gnat, and 
 the innocent have suffered for the guilty ; in- 
 deed the differences in their form are so very 
 minute, that it often requires the assistance of 
 a microscope to distinguish the one from the 
 other : they are both mounted on long legs, 
 both furnished with two wings and a slender 
 body : their heads are large, and they seem to 
 be hump-backed ; the chief and only dif- 
 ference, therefore, is, that the tipula wants a 
 trunk, while the gnat has a large one, which 
 it often exerts to very mischievous purposes. 
 The tipula is a harmless peaceful insect, that 
 offers injury to nothing ; the gnat is sangui- 
 nary and prcdaceous, ever seeking out for a 
 place in which to bury its trunk, and pump- 
 ing up the blood from the animal in large 
 quantities. 
 
 The gnat proceeds from a little worm, 
 whicli is usually seen at the bottom of stand- 
 ing waters. The manner iti which the insect 
 lays its eggs is particularly curious ; after 
 having laid the proper number on the surface 
 of the water, it surrounds them with a kind 
 of unctuous matter, which prevents them from 
 sinking, but at the same lime fastens them 
 with a thread to the bottom, to prevent their 
 floating away, at the mercy of every breeze, 
 from a place, the warmth of which is proper 
 for their production, to any other, where the 
 wnier may bo too cold, or the animals' ene- 
 mies too numerous. Thus the insects, in 
 their egg state, resemble a buoy, which is fix- 
 ed by an anchor. As they come to maturity 
 they sink deeper: and at last, when they 
 leave the egg as worms, they creep at the 
 bottom. They now make themselves lodg- 
 
 ments of cement, which they fasten to some 
 solid body at the very bottom of the water, 
 unless, by accident, they meet with a pic-re of 
 chalk, which being of a soft and pliant nature, 
 gives them an opportunity of sinking a retreat 
 for themselves, where nothing but the claws 
 of a cray-fish can possibly molest them. The 
 worm afterwards changes its form. It ap- 
 pears with a large head, and a tail invested 
 with hair, and moistened with an oleaginous 
 liquor, which she makes use of as a cork to 
 sustain her head in the air, and her tail in the 
 water, and to transport her from one place to 
 another. When the oil, with which her tail is 
 moistened, begins to grow dry, she discharges 
 out of her mouth an unctuous humour, which 
 she sheds all over her tail, by virtue whereof 
 she is enabled to transport herself where she 
 pleases, without being either wet or, any ways 
 incommoded by the water. The gnat, in her 
 second state, is, properly speaking, in her form 
 a nymph, which is an introduction or entrance 
 into a new life. In the first place, she divests 
 herself of her second skin ; in .the next, she 
 resigns her eyes, her antennae, and her tail ; 
 in short, she actually seems to expire. How- 
 ever, from the spoils of the amphibious ani- 
 mal, a little winged insect cuts the air. whose 
 every part is active to the last degree, and 
 whose whole structure is the just object of 
 our admiration. Its little head is adorned 
 with a plume of feathers, and its whole body 
 invested with scales and hair, to secure it 
 from any wet or dust. She makes trial of 
 the activity of her wings, bv rubbing them 
 either against her body, or her broad side- 
 bags, which keep her in an equilibrium. 
 The furbelow, or litile border of fine feathers, 
 which graces her wings, is very curious, and 
 strikes the eye in the most agreeable man- 
 ner. There is nothing, however, of greater 
 importance to the gnat than her trunk, and 
 that weak implement may justly be deemed 
 one of nature's master-pieces. It is so very 
 
826 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 small, that the extremity of it can scarcely 
 bediscerned through the best microscope that 
 can be procured. That part which is at 
 first obvious to the eye, is nothing but a long 
 scaly sheath under the throat. At near the 
 distance of two-thirds of it, there is an aper- 
 ture, through which the insect darts out four 
 stings, and afterwards retracts them. One of 
 which, however sharp and active it may be, 
 is no more than the case in which the other 
 three lie concealed, and run in a long groove. 
 The sides of these stings are sharpened like 
 two-edged swords; they are likewise barbed, 
 and have a vast number of cutting teeth to- 
 wards the point, which turns up like a hook, 
 and is fine beyond expression. When all 
 these darts are stuck into the flesh of animals, 
 sometimes one after another, and sometimes 
 all at once, the blood and humours of the ad- 
 jacent parts must unavoidably be extrava- 
 sated ; upon which a tumour must consequent- 
 ly ensue, the little orifice whereof is closed 
 up by the compression of the external air. 
 When the gnat, by the point of her case, 
 which she makes use of as a tongue, has 
 tasted any fruit, flesh, or juice, that she has 
 found out ; if it be a fluid, she sucks it up, 
 without playing her darts into it; but incase 
 she finds the least obstruction by any flesh 
 whatever, she exerts her strength, and pierces 
 through it, if possibly she can. After this 
 she draws back her stings into their sheath, 
 which she applies to the wound in order to 
 extract, as through a reed, the juices which 
 she finds enclosed. This is the implement 
 with which the gnat performs her work in the 
 summer, for during the winter she has no 
 manner of occasion for it. Then she ceases 
 to eat, and spends all that tedious season 
 either in quarries or in caverns, which she 
 abandons at the return of summer, and flies 
 about in search after some commodious ford, 
 or standing water, where she may produce 
 her progeny, which would be soon washed 
 away and lost, by the too rapid motion of any 
 running stream. The little brood are some- 
 times so numerous, that the very water is 
 tinged according to the colour of the species, 
 as, green, if they be green, and of a sanguine 
 hue, if they be red. 
 
 These are circumstances sufficiently ex- 
 traordinary in the life of this little animal ; 
 
 but it offers something still more curious in 
 the method of its propagation. However 
 similar insects of the gnat kind are in their 
 appearance, yet they differ widely from each 
 other in the manner in which they are brought 
 forth, for some are oviparous, and are pro- 
 duced from eggs; some are viviparous, and 
 come forth in their most perfect form; some are 
 males, and unite- with tin- female; some are fe- 
 males, requiringthe impregnation of the male; 
 someareof neithersex.yet still produceyoung, 
 without any copulation whatsoever. This is 
 one of the strangest discoveries in all natural 
 history ! A gnat separated from the rest of 
 its kind, and enclosed in a glass vessel, with 
 air sufficient to keep it alive, shall produce 
 young, which also, when separated from each 
 other, shall be the parents of a numerous 
 progeny. Thus, down for five or six genera- 
 tions, do these extraordinary animals propa- 
 gate without the use of copulation, without 
 any congress between the male and the fe- 
 male, but in the manner of vegetables, the 
 young bursting from the body of their parents, 
 without any previous impregnation. At the 
 sixth generation, however, their propagation 
 stops; the gnat no longer produces itslike, from 
 itself alone, but it requires the access of the 
 male to give it another succession of fecundity. 
 The gnat of Europe gives but little un- 
 easiness; it is sometimes heard to hum about 
 our beds at night, and keeps off" the ap- 
 proaches of sleep by the apprehension it 
 causes ; but it is very different in the ill- 
 peopled regions of America, where the wa- 
 ters stagnate, and the climate is warm, and 
 where they are produced in multitudes be- 
 yond expression. The whole air is there 
 filled with clouds of those famished insects, 
 and they are found of all sizes, from six in- 
 ches long to a minuteness that even requires 
 the microscope to have a distinct perception 
 of them. The warmth of the mid-day sun 
 is too powerful for their constitutions ; but 
 when the evening approaches, neither art 
 nor flight can shield the wretched inhabitants 
 from their attacks; though millions are de- 
 stroyed, still millions more succeed, and 
 produce unceasing torment. The native 
 Indians, who anoint their bodies with oil, 
 and v\ho have from their infancy been used 
 to their depredations, find them much les 
 
THE NAT AN!> TIPULA. 
 
 82T 
 
 inconvenient than those who are newly ar- 
 rived from Europe; they sleep in their 
 cottages covered all over with thousands of 
 the gnat kind upoii their bodies, and yet do 
 not seem to have their slumbers disturbed 
 by their cruel devourers. If a candle hap- 
 NO. C9 & 70. 
 
 pens to be lighted in one of those places, a 
 cloud of insects at once light upon the tiame, 
 and extinguish it: they art therefore obliged 
 to keep their candles in glass lanterns; a 
 miserable expedient to prevent an unceasing 
 calamity ! 
 
 5Y 
 
828 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 OP THE ZOOPHYTES. 
 
 CHAPTER CXCVI. 
 
 OF ZOOPHYTES IN GENERAL. 
 
 WE now come to the last link in the chain 
 of animated nature, to a class of beings so 
 confined in their powers, and so defective in 
 their formation, that some historians have 
 been at a loss whether to consider them as a 
 superior rank of vegetables, or the humblest 
 order of the animated tribe. In order, there- 
 fore, to give them a denomination agreeable 
 to their existence, they have been called 
 Zoophytes, a name implying vegetable nature 
 endued with animal life ; and, indeed;, in 
 some the marks of the animal are so few, 
 that it is difficult to give their place in na- 
 ture with, precision, or to tell whether it is a 
 plant or an insect that is the object of our 
 consideration. 
 
 Should it be asked what it is that consti- 
 tutes the difference between animal and 
 vegetable life; what it is that lays the line 
 that separates those two great kingdoms 
 from each other; it would be difficult, per- 
 haps we should* find it impossible, to return 
 an answer. The power of motion cannot 
 form this distinction, since some vegetables 
 are possessed of motion, and many animals 
 arc totally without it. The sensitive plant 
 has obviously a greater variety of motions 
 lhan the oyster or the pholas. The animal 
 that fills the acorn-shell is immoveable, and 
 can only close its lid to defend itself from ex- 
 ternal injury, while the flower, which goes 
 by the name of the fly-trap, seems to close 
 upon the flies that tight upon it, and that at- 
 tempt to rifle it of its honey. The animal in 
 this instance seems to have scarce a power 
 of self-defence; the vegetable not only guards 
 its possessions, but seizes upon the robber 
 
 that would venture to invade them. In like 
 manner, the methods of propagation give no 
 superiority to the lower rank of animals. On 
 the contrary, vegetables are frequently pro- 
 duced more conformably to the higher ranks 
 of the creation, and though some plants are 
 produced by cuttings from others, yet the 
 general manner of propagation is from seeds, 
 laid HI the womb of the earth, where they are 
 hatched into the similitude of the parent plant 
 or flower. But a most numerous tribe of ani~ 
 mals have lately been discovered, which are 
 propagated by cuttings, and this in so extra- 
 ordinary a manner, that, though the original 
 insect be divided into a thousand parts, each, 
 however small, shall be formed into an ani- 
 mal, entirely resembling that which was at 
 first divided : in this respect, therefore, cer- 
 tain races of animals seem to fall beneath 
 vegetables, by their more imperfect propaga- 
 tion. 
 
 What, therefore, is the distinction between 
 them ? or are the orders so intimately blend- 
 ed as that it is impossible to mark (he boun- 
 daries of each ? To me it would seem, that 
 all animals are possessed of one power, of 
 which vegetables are totally deficient: I 
 mean, either the actual ability, or an awk- 
 ward attempt at self-preservation. However 
 vegetables may seem possessed o.f this im- 
 portant quality, yet it is with them but a 
 mechanical impulse, resembling the raising 
 one end of the lever when you depress the 
 other: the sensitive plant contracts and 
 hangs its leaves indeed, when touched, but 
 this motion no way contributes to its safety ;. 
 the fly-trap flower acts entirely in the same 
 
THE WORM. 
 
 820 
 
 manner; and though it seems to seize the 
 little animal that comes to annoy it, yet, in 
 reality, only closes mechanically upon it, and 
 this enclosure neither contributes to its pre- 
 servation nor its defence. Bat it is very dif- 
 ferent with insects even of the lowest order; 
 the earth-worm not only contracts, but hides 
 itself in the earth, and escapes with some 
 share of swiftness from its pursuers. The 
 polypus hides its horns ; the star-fish con- 
 tracts its arms upon the appearance even of 
 distant dangers; they not only hunt for their 
 food, but provide for their safety ; and how- 
 ever imperfectly they may be formed, yet 
 still they are in reality placed many degrees 
 above the highest vegetable of the earth, and 
 are possessed of many animal functions as 
 well as those that are more elaborately formed. 
 But though these be superior to plants, 
 they are far beneath their animated fellows 
 of existence. In the class of zoophytes, we 
 may place all those animals which may be 
 propagated by cuttings ; or, in other words, 
 which, if divided into two or more parts, each 
 part in time becomes a separate and perfect 
 animal ; the head shoots forth a tail, and, on 
 the contrary, the tail produces a head; some 
 of these will bear dividing but into two parts, 
 such is the earth-worm ; some may be divided 
 into more than two, and of this kind are 
 
 many of the star-fish; others still may he cut 
 into a thousand parts, each becoming a per- 
 fect animal ; they may be turned inside out, 
 like the finger of a glove ; they mav be 
 moulded into all manner of shapes, yet still 
 their vivacious principle remains, still every 
 single part becomes perfect in its kind, and, 
 after a few days' existence, exhibits all the 
 arts and industry of its contemptible parent! 
 We shall therefore divide zoophytes accord- 
 ing to their several degrees of perfection, 
 namely, into Worms, Star-fish, and Polypi ; 
 contenting ourselves with a short review of 
 those nauseous and despicable creatures, 
 that excite our curiosity chiefly by their im- 
 perfections : it mast not be concealed, how- 
 ever, that much has of late been written on 
 this part of natural history. A new mode of 
 animal prodtiction, could not fail of exciting 
 not only the curiosity, but the astonishment 
 of every philosopher: many found their 
 favourite systems totally overthrown by the 
 discovery ; and it was not without a wordy 
 struggle, that they gave up what had former- 
 ly been their pleasure and their pride. At 
 last, however, conviction became too strong 
 for argument; and a question, which owed 
 its general spread rather to its novelty than 
 to its importance, was given up in favour of 
 the new discovery. 
 
 CHAPTER CXCVIL 
 
 OF WORMS. 
 
 THE first in the class of zoophytes, are 
 animals of the worm kind, which being en- 
 tirely destitute of feet, trail themselves along 
 upon the ground, and find themselves a re- 
 treat under the earth, or in the water. As 
 these, like serpents, have a creeping motion, 
 so both, in general, go under the common 
 appellation of reptiles ; a loathsome, noxious, 
 malignant tribe, to which man by nature, as 
 well as by religion, has the strongest antipa- 
 thy. But though worms, as well as serpents, 
 are mostly without feet, and have been 
 doomed to creep along the earth on their 
 
 bellies, yet their motions are Very different. 
 The serpent, as has been said before, having 
 a back-bone, which it is incapable of con- 
 tracting, bends its body into the form of a 
 bow, and then shoots forward from the tail: 
 but it is very different with the worm, ivl'ich 
 has a power of contracting or lengthening 
 itself at will. There is a spiral muscle, that 
 runs round its whole body, from the hend to 
 the tail, somewhat resembling a wire wound 
 round a walking-cane, which when slipped 
 oflT, and one end extended and held fast, will 
 bring the other nearer to it ; in this manner 
 5 Y* 
 
839 
 
 A HISTUKT OF 
 
 the earth-worm, having shot out, or extended 
 its body, takes hold by the sUme of the (ore 
 pnrt of its body, and so contracts and brings 
 forward the hinder part; in this manner it 
 moves onward, not without great efforts; but 
 the occasions for its progressive motion are 
 fe \v. 
 
 As it is designed for living under the earth, 
 and leading a life of obscurity, so it seems 
 tolerably adapted to its situation. Its body 
 is armed with small stiff sharp burrs or 
 prickles, which it can erect or depress, at 
 pleasure; under the skin there lies a slimy 
 juice, to be ejected as occasion requires, at 
 certain perforations, between the rings of 
 the muscles, to lubricate its body, and tacili- 
 tate its passage into the earth. Like most 
 other irvseets, it has breathing-holes along the 
 back, adjoining each ring; but is without 
 bones, without eyes, without ears, and pro- 
 perly without feet. It has a mouth,, and also 
 an alimentary canal, which runs along to the 
 very point of the tail. In some worms, how- 
 ever, particularly such as are found in the 
 bodies of animals, th.is canal opens towards 
 the middle of the belly, at sojne distance 
 from the tail. The intestines of the earth- 
 worm are always found filled with a very 
 fine earth, which seeras.to be the only nourish- 
 ment these animals are capable of receiving. 
 
 The animal is entirely without a brain, but 
 near the head is placed the heart, which is 
 seen to beat with a very distinct motion, and 
 round it are the spermatic vessels, forming a 
 number- of little globules, containing a milky 
 fluid, which have an opening into the belly, 
 not far from the head ; they are also often 
 found to contain a number of eggs, which are 
 laid in the earth, and are hatched in twelve 
 or fourteen days into life^ by the genial 
 warmth of their situation ; like snails, all 
 these animals unite in themselves, both sexes 
 at once; the reptile that impregnates, being 
 impregnated in turn : few that walk out. but 
 must have observed them, with their heads 
 laid against each other, and so strongly at- 
 tached, that they, sutler themselves to be trode 
 upon. 
 
 When the eggs are laid in the earth, which, 
 in about fourteen days, as has been said, are 
 hatchet) into maturity, the young ones come 
 forth very small* but perfectly formed, and 
 
 suffer no change during their existence : how. 
 long their life continues is not well known, 
 but it certainly holds for more than two or 
 three seasons. During the winter, they bury 
 themselves deeper in the earth, and seem, in 
 some measure, to share the general torpidity 
 of the insect tribe. In spring, they revive 
 with the rest of nature, and on those occa- 
 sions, a moist or dewy evening brings them 
 forth from their rctseats, i'ov the universal 
 purpose of continuing their kind. They 
 chieily live in a light, rich, and fertile soil,, 
 moistened by dews or accidental showers, 
 but avoid those places where the water is apt 
 to lie on the surface of the earth, or where 
 the clay is too stiff' for their easy progression 
 under ground. 
 
 Helpless as. they are formed, yet they seem, 
 very vigilant in avoiding those animals that 
 chk'lly make them their prey; in particular,, 
 the mole, who feeds entirely upon them be- 
 neath Uie surface, and who seldom ventures, 
 from the dimness of its sight, into the open 
 air; him they avoid, by darting up from the 
 earth, the instant they feel the ground move; 
 and fishermen, who are well acquainted with 
 this, take them in what numbers they choose* 
 by stirring the earth where they expect to, 
 find tliem. They are also driven from their 
 retreats under ground, by pouring bitter or 
 acrid water thereon, such as that water in 
 which green walnuts have been steeped, or a 
 ley made of pot-ashes. 
 
 Such is the general outline of the history 
 of these reptiles, which, as it should seem, 
 degrades them no way beneath the rank of 
 other animals, of the insect creation : but 
 now- we come to a part of their history, which, 
 proves the imperfection of their organs, from 
 the easiness with which these little machines 
 may be damaged and repaired again. It is 
 well known in mechanics, that the finest and 
 most complicated instruments are the most 
 easily put out of order, and the most difficultly 
 set right ; the same also obtains in the anU 
 mal machine. IHan, the most complicated 
 machine of all others, whose nerves are more 
 numerous, and powers of action more various* 
 is most easily destroyed : he is seen to die 
 under wounds which a quadruped OP a bird 
 could easily survive; and as we descend 
 gradually to the lower ranks, the ruder the 
 
THE WORM. 
 
 831 
 
 composition, the more difficult it is to disar- 
 range it. Some animals live without their 
 limbs, and often are seen to reproduce them ;. 
 some are seen to live without their brain for 
 many weeks together; caterpillars continue 
 to increase and grow large, though all their 
 nobler organs are entirely destroyed within; 
 some animals continue to exist, though cut in 
 two, their nobler parts preserving life, while 
 the others perish that were cut away : but 
 the earth-worm, and all the zoopln te tribe, 
 continue to live in separate parts, and one 
 animal, by the means of cutting, is divided 
 into two distinct existences, sometimes into a 
 thousand ! 
 
 There is no phenomenon in all natural 
 history more astonishing than this, that man 
 at pleasure should have a kind of creative 
 power, and; out of one life make two, each 
 completely formed, with all its apparatus and 
 functions; each with its perceptions, and 
 powers of motion and self preservation ; each 
 as complete in all respects as that from 
 which it derived its existence, and equally 
 enjoying the humblegratifications of its nature. 
 
 When Des Cartes first started the opinion, 
 thnt brutes were machines, the discovery of 
 this surprising propagation was unknown, 
 which might, in some measure, have strength- 
 ened his fanciful theory. What is life in 
 brutes, he might have said, or where does it 
 reside ? In some we find it so diffused, that 
 every part seems to maintain a vivacious 
 principle, and the same animal appears pos- 
 sessed of a thousand distinct irrational souls 
 at the same time. But let us not. he would 
 say, give so noble a name to such contemp- 
 tible powers, bat rank the vivifying principle ; 
 in these with the sap that rises in vegetables, 
 or the moisture that contracts a cord, or the 
 heat that puts water into motion ! No- 
 thing, in fact, deserves the name of soul, but 
 that, which reasons, that which understands, 
 and by knowing God, receives the mark of 
 its currency, and is minted with the impres- 
 sion of its great Creator. 
 
 Such might have been the speculations of 
 this philosopher: however, to leave theory, 
 it will be sufficient to say, that we owe the 
 
 (a) Allied to these In their vermicular shape, are seve- 
 iI other kinds of worms, commonly known by the name 
 
 first discovery of this power of reproduction 
 in animals to Mr. Trembley, who first ob- 
 served it in the Polypus, and after him, 
 Spalanzani and others found it taking place 
 in the earth-worm, the sea-worm, and several 
 other ill-formed, animals of a like kind, which 
 were susceptible of this new mode of propa- 
 gation. This last philosopher has tried seve- 
 ral experiments upon the earth-worm, many 
 of which succeeded according to his expecta- 
 tion ; every earth-worm, however, did not 
 retain the vivacious principle will) the same 
 obstinacy ; some, when cut in two, were en- 
 tirely destroyed ; others survived only in the 
 nobler part; and while the head was living, 
 the tail entirely perished, and a new one was 
 seen to bourgeon from the extremity. But 
 what was most surprising of all, in some, par- 
 ticularly in the small red-headed earth-worm, 
 both extremities survived the operation ; Uie 
 head produced a tail, with the anus, the in- 
 testines, the annular muscle, and the prirkly 
 beards ; the tail part, on the other hand, was 
 seen to shoot forth the nobler organs, and in 
 less than the space of three months sent forth 
 a head, a heart, with all the apparatus and 
 instruments of generation. This part, as 
 may easily be supposed, was produced much 
 more slowly than the former, a new head 
 taking above three OP four months for its 
 completion; anew tail being shot forth in 
 less than as many weeks. Thus two animals, 
 by dissection, were made out of one, each 
 with their separate appetites, each endued 
 with life and motion, and seemingly as per- 
 fect as that single animal from whence they 
 derived their origin. 
 
 What was performed upon the earth-worm,, 
 was found to obtain also in many of the ver- 
 micular species. The sea-worn), the white 
 water-worm, and many of those little worms 
 with feelers, found at the bottom of dirty 
 ditches; in all these the nobler organs are of 
 such little use, that if taken away, the animal 
 does not seem to feel the want of them ; it 
 lives in all ks parts, and in every part; and 
 by a strange paradox in nature, the most use- 
 less-and contemptible life is of all others the 
 most difficult to destroy." 
 
 of Threifd-worms. The common Hair-worm is found ia 
 fresh waters, or in a wet clayey soil, through which it per- 
 
832 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 CHAPTER CXCVIII. 
 
 OF THE STAR-FISH. 
 
 THE next order of zoophytes is that of 
 the star-fish, a numerous tribe, shapeless and 
 deformed, assuming at different times dif- 
 ferent appearances. The same animal that 
 now appears round like a ball, shortly after 
 flattens as thin as a plate. All of this kind 
 are formed of a semi-transparent gelatinous 
 substance, covered with a thin membrane, 
 and to an inattentive spectator often appear 
 like a lump of inanimate jelly, floating at ran- 
 dom upon the surface of the sea, or thrown 
 by. chance on shore at the departure of the 
 tide. But upon a more minute inspection, 
 they will be found possessed of life and mo- 
 tion ; they will be found to shoot forth their 
 arms ,\n .every direction, in order to seize 
 upon such insects as are near, and to devour 
 them with great rapaeky. Worms, the spawn 
 of fish, and even muscles themselves, with 
 their hard resisting shell, have been found in 
 the stomachs of these voracious animals; and 
 what is very extraordinary, though the sub- 
 stance of their own bodies be almost as soft 
 as water, yet they are no way injured by 
 swallowing these shells, which are almost of 
 a stony hardness. They increase in size as 
 all other animals do. In summer, when the 
 water of the sea is warmed by the heat of 
 the sun, they float upon the surface, and in 
 (lie dark they send forth a kind of shining 
 light resembling that of phosphorus. Some 
 h.ive given these aitinaals tlie name of sea- 
 nettles, because they burn the hands of those 
 that touch them, as nettles are found to do. 
 They are often seen fastened to the rocks, 
 
 lorates. In size and appearance it exactly resembles the 
 Ir.iir of a horse's tail ; and, when touched, twists itself into 
 a variety of knot-like contortions, for which reason it has 
 been called the Gordius. The Guinea-worm is shaped 
 something like this, except that the mouth is dilated, and 
 has a roundish concave lip. ft enters the naked arms and 
 legs of the inhabitants of the East and West Indies, sink- 
 ing Jfep into the muscles, and frequently occasioning in- 
 flammation and fever. The Fury Is a still more danger- 
 
 and to the largest sea-shells, as if to derive 
 their nourishment from them. If they be 
 taken and put into spirit of wine, they will 
 continue for many years entire ; but if they 
 be left to the influence of the air, they arc, 
 in less than four and twenty hours, melted 
 down into limpid and offensive water. 
 
 In all of this species, none are found to 
 possess a vent for their excrements; but the 
 same passage by which they devour their 
 food, serves for the ejection of their faeces. 
 These animals, as was said, take such a 
 variety of figures, that it is impossible to de- 
 scribe them under one determinate shape ; 
 but in general their bodies resemble a trun- 
 cated cone, whose base is applied to the rock 
 to which they are found usually attached v 
 Though generally transparent, yet they are 
 found of different colours, some inclining to 
 green, some to red, some to white, and some 
 to brown." In some, their colours appear 
 diffused over the whole surface, in some they 
 are often streaked, and in others often spotted. 
 They are possessed of a very slow progres- 
 sive motion, and in fine weather they are 
 continually seen, stretching out, and fishing 
 for their prey. Many of them are possessed 
 of a number of long slender filaments, in 
 which they entangle any small animals they 
 happen to approach, and thus draw them into 
 their enormous stomachs, which fill the whole 
 cavity of their bodies. The harder shells 
 continue for some weeks undigested, but at 
 length they undergo a kind of maceration in 
 the stomach, and become a part of the sub- 
 
 ous worm, and has on each side a single row of closely 
 pressed reflected prickles. It is found in Finland and the 
 northern parts of Sweden, in marshy places, where it 
 crawls up the steins of sedge-grass and low shrubs; and 
 being wafted by the wind, darts into the naked parts of 
 such as :nav happen to be near it. The celebrated natu- 
 ralist, Sir Ohnrles Linne, was so severely bitten by one of 
 these dreadful animals, that for some time it was doubt- 
 ful whether he would live or die* 
 
THE STAR-FISH THE POLYPUS. 
 
 833 
 
 stance of the animal itself. The indigestible 
 parts are returned by ttie same aperture by 
 which they were swallowed, and then the 
 star-fish begins to fish for more. These also 
 may be cut in pieces, and every, part will 
 survive the operation; each becoming a per- 
 fect animal, endued with its natural rapacity. 
 
 Of this tribe, the number is various, and 
 the- description of each would be tedious arid 
 uninstructing; the manners and nature of all 
 are nearly as described : but I will just make 
 mention of oue creature, which, though not 
 properly belonging to this class, yet is so 
 nearly related, that the passing it in silence 
 would be an unpardonable omission. 
 
 Of all other animals, the Cuttle-fish, though 
 in some respects superior to tlxis tribe, pos- 
 sesses qualities the most extraordinary. It 
 is about two feet long,, covered with a very 
 thin skin, and its flesh composed of a gelati- 
 nous substance, which, however, within-side, 
 is strengthened by a strong bone, of which 
 such great use is made by the goldsmith. It 
 is possessed of eight arms, which it extends, 
 and which are probably of service to it in 
 
 fishing for its prey ; while in life, k is capable 
 of lengthening or contracting these at plea- 
 sure ; but, when dead, they contract, and 
 lose their rigidity. They feed upon small 
 fish, which they seize with their arms; and 
 they are bred from eggs, which are laid upon 
 the weeds along the sea-shore. 
 
 The cuttle-fish is found along many of the 
 eoasts of Europe, but are not easily eawght, 
 from a contrivance with which they are fur- 
 nished by nature ; this is a black substance, of 
 the colour of ink, which is contained in a 
 bladder generally on the left side of the belly, 
 and which is ejected in the manner of an ex- 
 crement from the anus. Whenever, there- 
 fore, this fish is pursued, and when it finds a 
 difficulty of escaping, it spurts forth a great 
 quantity of this black liquor, by which (lie 
 waters are totally darkened-, and then it 
 escapes by lying close at the bottom. In 
 this manner the creature finds its safety ; and 
 men find ample cause for admiration, from 
 the great variety of stratagems with which 
 creatures are endued for their peculiar pre- 
 servation. 
 
 CHAPTER CXCIX. 
 
 OF THE POLYPUS.. 
 
 THOSE animals which we have described 
 in the last chapter are variously denominated. 
 They have been called the Star-fish, Sea- 
 nettles, and Sea-polypi. This last name has 
 been peculiarly ascribed' to them by the an- 
 cients, because of the number of feelers or 
 feet of which they are all possessed, and with, 
 which they have a slow progressive motion ; 
 but the moderns have given the name of Poly- 
 pus to a reptile that lives in fresh water, by 
 no means so large or observable. These 
 are found at the bottom of wet ditches, or at- 
 tached to the under surface of the broad- 
 leafed plants that grow and swim on. the wa. 
 ters. The same difference holds between 
 these and the sea-water polypus, as between, 
 $11 the productions of the sea, and of the land- 
 and the ocean,. The marine vegetables and 
 
 animals grow to a monstrous size. The eel, 
 the pike, or the bream, of fresh waters, is but 
 small ; but in the sea they grow to an enor- 
 mous magnitude. The herbs of the field are 
 at most but a few feet high; those of the sea- 
 often shoot forth a stnlk of a hundred. It is 
 so between (lie Polypi of both,, elements. 
 Those of the sea are found from, two feet in 
 length to three or four, and Pliny has even 
 described one, the arms oC which were no 
 less than thirty feet long. Those in fresh 
 waters, however, are comparatively, minute ; 
 at their utmost sjze seldom above three parts 
 of. an inch long, and when gathered up into 
 their usual form, not above a third- even of 
 those dimensions* 
 
 It was upon thfse minute animals, that the- 
 power of dissection was first tried va mulli- 
 
834 
 
 A HISTORY OF 
 
 plying their numbers. They had been long 
 considered as little worthy the attention of 
 observers, and were consigned to that neglect 
 in which thousands of minute species of in- 
 sects remain to this very day. It is true, in- 
 deed, that Reaumur observed, classed, and 
 named them. By contemplating their mo- 
 tions, he was enabled distinctly to pronounce 
 on their being of the animal, and not of the 
 vegetable kingdom ; and he called them Poly- 
 pi, from their great resemblance to those 
 larger ones that were found in the ocean. 
 Still, however, their properties were neglect- 
 ed, and their history unknown. 
 
 Mr. Trembley was the person to whom we 
 owe the first discovery of the amazing proper- 
 ties and powers of this little vivacious creature. 
 He divided this class of animals into four dif- 
 ferent kinds: into those inclining to green, 
 those of a brownish cast, those of a (lesh- 
 colour, and those which he calls the polype de 
 panache. The differences of structure in these, 
 as also of colour, are observable enough ; but 
 the manner of their subsisting, of seizing then- 
 prey, and of their propagation, is pretty near- 
 ly the same in all. 
 
 Whoever has looked with care into the bot- 
 tom of a wet ditch when the water is stagnant, 
 and the sun has been powerful, may remem- 
 ber to have seen many little transparent lumps 
 of jelly, about the size of a pea, and flatted on 
 one side ; such also as have examined the un- 
 der side of the broad-leafed weeds that grow 
 on the surface of the water, must have observ- 
 ed them studded with a number of these little 
 jelly-like substances, which were probably 
 then disregarded, because their nature and 
 history were unknown. These little sub- 
 stances, however, were no other than living 
 polypi, gathered up into a quiescent state, and 
 sce.ningly inanimate, because either undis- 
 turbed, or not excited by the calls of appetite 
 to action. When they are seen exerting them- 
 selves, they put on a very different appearance 
 from that when at rest: to conceive a just 
 idea of their figure, we may suppose the finger 
 of a glove cut off at the bottom ; we may sup- 
 pose also several threads or horns planted 
 round the edge like a fringe. The hollow of 
 this finger will give us an idea of the stomach 
 of the animal ; the threads issuing forth from 
 (he edges may be considered as the arms or 
 feelers, with which it hunts for its prey. The 
 
 animal, at its greatest extent, is seldom seen 
 above an inch and a half long, but it is much 
 shorter when it is contracted and at rest ; it is 
 furnished neither with muscfcs nor rings, and 
 its manner of lengthening or contracting itself 
 more resembles that of the snail, than worms, 
 or any oilier insect. The polypus contracts 
 itself more or less, in proportion as it is touch- 
 ed, or as the water is agitated in which they 
 are seen. Warmth animates them, and c< Id 
 benumbs them ; but it requires a degree of 
 cold approaching congelation before they are 
 reduced to perfect inactivity: those of an inch 
 have generally their arms double, often thrice 
 as long as their bodies. The arms, where the 
 animal is not disturbed, and the season not 
 unfavourable, are thrown about in various 
 directions, in order to seize and entangle its 
 little prey ; sometimes three or four of the 
 arms are thus employed, while the rest are 
 contracted like the horns of a snail, within the 
 animal's body. It seems capable of giving 
 wh-it length it pleases to these arms ; it con- 
 tracts and extends them at pleasure, and 
 stretches them only in proportion to the re- 
 moteness of the object it would seize. 
 
 These animals have a progressive motion, 
 which is performed by that power they have 
 of lengthening and contracting themselves at 
 pleasure ; they go from one part of the bottom 
 to another ; they mount along the margin of 
 the water, and climb up the side of aquatic 
 plants. They often are seen to come to the 
 surface of the water, where they suspend 
 themselves by their lower end. As they ad- 
 vance but very slowly, they employ a great 
 deal of time in every action, and bind them- 
 selves very strongly to whatever body they 
 chance to move upon as they proceed ; their 
 adhesion is voluntary, and is probably perform- 
 ed in the manner of a cupping-glass applied 
 to the body. 
 
 All animals of this kind have a remarkable 
 attachment to turn towards the light, and 
 this naturally might induce an inquirer to look 
 for their eyes ; but however carefully this 
 search has been pursued, and however excel- 
 lent the microscope with which every part 
 was examined, yet nothing of the appearance 
 of this organ was found over the whole body; 
 and it is most probable that, like several other 
 insects which hunt their prey by their feeling, 
 these creatures are unfurnished with advan- 
 
THE POLYPUS. 
 
 S36 
 
 tages which would be totally useless for their 
 support. 
 
 In the centre of the arms, as was said before, 
 the mouth is placed, which the animal can 
 open and shut at pleasure, and this serves at 
 once as a passage for food, and an opening 
 for it after digestion. The inward purt of the 
 animal's body seems to be one great stomach, 
 which is open at both ends ; but the purposes 
 which the opening at the bottom serves are 
 hitherto unknown, but certainly not for ex- 
 cluding taeir excrements, for those are eject- 
 ed at the aperture by which they are taken in. 
 If the surface of the body of this little creature 
 be examined with a microscope, it will be 
 found studded with a number of warts, as also 
 the anus, especially when they are contract- 
 ed ; and these tubercles, as we shall presently 
 see, answer a very important purpose. 
 
 If we examine their way of living, we shall 
 fiiid thes" insectschiefly subsisting upon others, 
 much less than themselves, particularly a kind 
 of millepedes that live in the water, and a 
 very small red worm, which they seize with 
 great avidity. In short, no insect whatsoever, 
 less than themselves, seems to come amiss to 
 them ; their arms, as was said before, serve 
 them as a net would a fisherman, or perhaps, 
 more exactly speaking, as a lime-twig does a 
 fowler. 
 
 Wherever their prey is perceived, which the 
 animal effects by its feeling, it is sufficient to 
 touch the object it would seize upon, and it is 
 fastened without a power of escaping. The 
 instant one of this insect's long arms is laid 
 upon a milh-pede, the little insect sticks with- 
 out a possibility of retreating. The greater 
 the distance at which it is touched, the greater 
 is the ease with which the polypus brings the 
 prey to its mouth. If the little object be near, 
 though irretrievably caught, it is not without 
 great difficulty that if can be brought to the 
 mouth to be swallowed. When the polypus 
 is unapplied with prey, it testifies its hunger 
 by opening its mouth ; the aperture, however, 
 is so small that it cannot be easily perceived ; 
 but when, with any of its long arms, it has 
 seized upon its prey, it then opens the mouth 
 disMnctly enough, and this opening is always 
 in proportion to the size of the animal which 
 it would swallow ; the lips dilate insensibly 
 by small degrees, and adjust themselves pre- 
 cisely to the figure of their prey. Mr. Trem- 
 
 *o 71 & 72. 
 
 bley, who took n pleasure in feeding this use- 
 less brood, found that th<y could devour ali- 
 ments of every kind, fish Hiiri flesh, as well as 
 insects ; but he owns they did not thrive so 
 well upon beef and veal, as upon the little 
 worms of their own providing. When he 
 gave one of these famished leptiles any sub- 
 stance which was improper to serve (or ali- 
 ment, tit first it seized the prey with avidity, 
 but after keeping it some time entanl< d m ar 
 the mouth, it dropt it again w'uh distinguishing 
 nicety. 
 
 When several polypi happen to fall upon 
 the same worm, they dispute their common 
 prey with each other. Two of them are often 
 seen seizing the same worm at different ends, 
 and dragging it at opposite directions with 
 great force. It often happens, that while one 
 is swallowing its respective end, the other is 
 also employed in the same manner, and thus 
 they continue swallowing each his part, until 
 their mouths meet together; they then rest, 
 each for some time in this situation, till the 
 worm breaks between them, and each goes off 
 with his share ; but it often happens, that a 
 seemingly more dangerous combat ensues, 
 when the mouths of both are thus joh.ert upon 
 one common prey together: the largest poly- 
 pus then gapes and swallows his antagonist ; 
 but what is very wonderful, the animal thus 
 swallowed seems to be rather a gainer by the 
 misfortune. After it has lain in the conqueror's 
 body for about an hour, it issues unhurt, and 
 often in possession of the prey which had been 
 the original cause of contention. How happy 
 would it be for men, if they had as little to 
 fear from each other ! 
 
 These reptiles continue eating the wthole 
 year, except when the cold approaches to 
 congelation ; and then, like most others of the 
 insect tribe, they feel the general torpor of na- 
 ture, and all their faculties are for two or three 
 months suspended : but if they abstain at one 
 time, they are equally voracious at another, 
 and, like snakes, ants, and other animals that 
 are torpid in winter, the meal of one day suf- 
 fices them for several months together. In 
 general, however, they devour more largely 
 in proportion to their size, and their growth 
 is quick exactly as they are fed ; such as are 
 best supplied, soonest acquire their largest size, 
 but they di'ninish also in their growth with 
 the same facility if their food be taken away 
 
A HISTORY OF 
 
 Such arc the more obvious properties of 
 these little animals, but the most wonderful 
 still remain behind : Their manner of propa- 
 gation, or rather multiplication, has for some 
 years been the astonishment of all the learned 
 of Europe. They are produced in as great a 
 variety of manners as every species of vege- 
 table. Some polypi are propagated from 
 <'ggS as plants are from their seed ; some are 
 produced by buds issuing from their bodies, 
 as plants are produced by inoculation ; while 
 all may be multiplied by cuttings, and this to a 
 degree of minuteness that exceeds even philo- 
 sophical perseverance. 
 
 With respect to such of this kind as are 
 hatched from the egg, little curious can be 
 added, as it is a method of propagation so 
 common to all the tribes of insect nature ; 
 but with regard to such as are produced like 
 buds from their parent stem, or like cuttings 
 from an original root, their history requires a 
 more detailed explanation. If a polypus be 
 carefully observed in summer, when these ani- 
 mals are chiefly active, and more particularly 
 prepared for propagation, it will be found to 
 bourgeon forth from different parts of its body 
 several tubercles or little knobs, which grow 
 larger and larger every day : after two or 
 three days' inspection, what at first appeared 
 but a small excrescence takes the figure of a 
 small animal, entirely resembling its parent, 
 furnished with feelers, a mouth, and all the 
 apparatus for seizing and digesting its prey. 
 This little creature every day becomes larger, 
 like the parent to which it continues attached ; 
 it spreads its arms to seize upon whatever in- 
 sect is proper for aliment, and devours it for 
 its own particular benefit : thus it is possessed 
 of two sources of nourishment, that which it 
 receives from the parent by the tail, and that 
 which it receives from its own industry by the 
 mouth. The food which these animals re- 
 ceive often tinctures the whole body, and up- 
 on this occasion the parent is often seen com- 
 municating a part of its own fluids to that of 
 its progeny that grows upon it ; while, on the 
 contrary, it never receives any tincture from 
 any substance that is caught and swallowed 
 by its young. If the parent swallows a red 
 worm, which gives a tincture to all its fluids, 
 the young one partakes of the parental colour ; 
 but if the latter should seize upon the same 
 prey, the pprent polypus is no way benefited 
 
 by the capture, but all the advantage remains 
 with the young one. 
 
 But we are not to suppose that the parent 
 is capable of producing only one at a time; 
 several young ones are thus seen at once, of 
 different sizes, growing from its body, some 
 just budding forth, others acquiring their per- 
 fect form, and others come to sufficient ma- 
 turity, and just ready to drop from the 
 original stem to which they had been attach- 
 ed for several days. But what is more extra- 
 ordinary still, those young ones themselves 
 that continue attached to their parent, are 
 seen to bourgeon, and propagate their own 
 young ones also, each holding the same de- 
 pendence upon its respective parent, and pos- 
 sessed of the same advantages that have been 
 already described in the first connexion. 
 Thus we see a surprising chain of existence 
 continued, and numbers of animals naturally 
 produced without any union of the sexes, or 
 other previous disposition of nature. 
 
 This seems to be the most natural way by 
 which these insects are multiplied ; their pro- 
 duction from the egg being not so common ; 
 and though some of this kind are found with 
 a little bladder attached to their bodies, which 
 is supposed to be filled with eggs, which after- 
 wards come to maturity, yet the artificial 
 method of propagating these animals is much 
 more expeditious, and equally certain. It is 
 indifferent whether one of them be cut into 
 ten, or ten hundred parts, each becomes as 
 perfect an animal as that which was originally 
 divided ; but it must be observed, that the 
 smaller the part which is thus separated from 
 the rest, the longer it will be in coming to 
 maturity, or in assuming its perfect form. It 
 would be endless to recount the many experi- 
 ments that have been tried upon this philoso- 
 phical prodigy : the animal has been twisted 
 and turned into all manner of shapes ; it has 
 been turned inside out, it has been cut in 
 every division, yet still it continued to move ; 
 its parts adapted themselves again to each 
 other, and in a short time it became as voraci- 
 ous and industrious as before. 
 
 Besides these kinds mentioned by Mr. 
 Trembley, there are various others which 
 have been lately discovered by the vigilance 
 of succeeding observers, and some of these so 
 strongly resemble a flowering vegetable in 
 their forms, that they have been mistaken by 
 
THE LYTHOPHYTES AND SPONGES. 
 
 837 
 
 many naturalists for such. Mr. Hughes, the 
 author of the natural history of Barbadoes, 
 has described a species of this animal, but 
 has mistaken its nature, and called it a sensi- 
 tive flowering plant ; he observed it to take 
 refuge in the holes of rocks, and, when un- 
 disturbed, to spread forth a number of rami- 
 fications, each terminated by a flowery petal, 
 
 which shrunk at the approach of (he hand, 
 and withdrew into the hole from whence be- 
 fore it had been seen to issue. This plant, 
 however, was no other than an animal of the 
 polypus kind, which is not only to be found 
 in Barbadoes, but also on many parls of the 
 coast of Cornwall, and along the shores of 
 the continent. 
 
 CHAPTER GC. 
 
 OF THE LYTHOPHYTES ANV SPONGES. 
 
 IT is very prooable that the animals we 
 see and are acquainted with, bear no man- 
 ner of proportion to those that are concealed 
 from us. Although every leaf and vegetable 
 swarms with animals upon land, yet at sea 
 they are still more abundant ; for the great- 
 est part of what would seem vegetables 
 growing there, are in fact nothing but the 
 artificial formation of insects, palaces which 
 they have built for their own habitation. 
 
 If we examine the bottom of the sea along 
 some shores, and particularly at the mouths 
 of several rivers, we shall find it has the ap- 
 pearance of a forest of trees under water, 
 millions of plants growing in various direc- 
 tions, with their branches entangled in each 
 other, and sometimes standing so thick as to 
 obstruct navigation. The shores of the Per- 
 sian Gulf, the whole extent of the Red-sea, 
 and the western coasts of America, are so 
 choaked up in many places with these cora- 
 line substances, that though ships force a 
 passage through them, boats and swimmers 
 find it impossible to make their way. These 
 aquatic groves are formed of different sub- 
 stances, and assume various appearances. 
 The coral plants, as they are called, some- 
 times shoot out like trees without leaves in 
 winter ; they often spread out a broad sur- 
 'ace like a fan, and not uncommonly a large 
 oundling head like a faggot; sometimes they 
 are found to resemble a plant with leaves 
 and flowers; and often the antlers of a stag, 
 with great exactness and regularity. In other 
 parts of the sea are seen sponges of various 
 
 magnitude, and extraordinary appearances, 
 assuming a variety of phantastic forms, like 
 large mushrooms, mitres, fonts, and flower- 
 pots. To an attentive spectator these vari- 
 ous productions seem entirely of the vege- 
 table kind ; they seem to have their leaves 
 and their flowers, and have been experimen- 
 tally known to shoot out branches in the 
 compass of a year. Philosophers, therefore, 
 till of late, thought themselves pretty secure 
 in ascribing these productions to the vege- 
 table kingdom ; and Count Marsigli, who has 
 written very laboriously and learnedly upon 
 the subject of corals and sponges, has not 
 hesitated to declare his opinion, that they 
 were plants of the aquatic kind, furnished 
 with flowers and seeds, and endued with a 
 vegetation entirely resembling that which is 
 found upon land. This opinion, however, 
 some time after, began to be shaken by Rum-, 
 phius and Jussieu, and at last by the ingeni- 
 ous Mr. Ellis, who by a more sagacious ami 
 diligent inquiry into nature, put it past doubt, 
 that corals and sponges were entirely the 
 works of animals, and that, like the honey- 
 comb which was formed by the bee, the co- 
 ral was the work of an infinite number of rep- 
 tiles of the polypus kind, whose united labours 
 were thus capable of filling whole tracts of 
 the ocean with those embarrassing tokens of 
 their industry. 
 
 If, in our researches \after the nature of 
 
 these plants, we should be induced to break 
 
 off a branch of the coraline substance, and 
 
 observe it carefully, we shall perceive its 
 
 5Z* 
 
A HISTORY OF 
 
 whole surface, which is very rugged and 
 irregular, covered with a mucous fluid, and 
 almost in every part studded with little jelly- 
 like drops, which, when closely examined, 
 will be (bund to be no other than reptiles of 
 the polypus kind. These have their motions, 
 their arms, their appetites, exactly resembling 
 those described in the last chapter; but they 
 soon expire when taken out of the sea, and 
 our curiosity is at once stopped in its career, 
 by the animals ceasing to give any mark of 
 (heir industry: recourse, therefore, has been 
 had to other expedients,in order to determine 
 the nature of the inhabitant, as well as the 
 habitation. 
 
 If a coraline plant be strictly observed, 
 while still growing in the sea, and the ani- 
 mals upon its surface be not disturbed, either 
 by the agitation of the waters, or the touch 
 of the observer, the little polypi will then be 
 seon in infinite numbers, each issuing from its 
 cell, and in some kinds the head covered 
 with a little shell, resembling an umbrella, 
 the arms spread abroad, in order to seize its 
 prey, while the hinder part still remains at- 
 tached to its habitation, from whence it never 
 wholly removes. By this time it is perceiv- 
 ed, that the number of inhabitants is infinite- 
 ly greater than was at first suspected ; and 
 that they are all assiduously employed in the 
 samo pursuits, and that they issue from their 
 respective cells, and retire into them at plea- 
 sure. Still, however, there are no proofs 
 that those large branches which they inhabit, 
 are entirely the construction of such feeble 
 and minute animals. But chymistry will be 
 found to lend a clue to extricate us from our 
 doubts in this particular. Like the shells 
 which are formed by snails, muscles, and 
 oysters, these coraline substances effervesce 
 with acids; and may therefore well be sup- 
 posed to partake of the same animal nature. 
 Bui Mr. Ellis went still farther, and examined 
 their operations, just as they were beginning. 
 Observing an oyster-bed which had been for 
 some time neglected, he there perceived the 
 first rudiments of a coraline plantation, and 
 tufts of various kinds shooting from different 
 parts of this favourable soil. It was upon- 
 these he tried his principal experiment. He 
 took out the oysters which w.ere thws furnish- 
 ed with ccraliufs, and placed them in a targe 
 
 wooden vessel, covering them with sea-water. 
 In about an hour he perceived the animals, 
 which before had been contracted by hand- 
 ling, and had shown no signs of life, expand- 
 ing themselves in every direction, and appear- 
 ing employed in their own natural manner. 
 Perceiving them, therefore, in this state, his 
 next aim was to preserve them thus expand- 
 ed, so as to be permanent objects of cunosjty. 
 For this purpose, he poured, by slow degrees, 
 an equal quantity of boiling water into the 
 vessel of sea-water in which they were im- 
 mersed. He then separated each polypui 
 with pincers from its shell, and plunged each 
 separately into small crystal vases, filled 
 with spirit of wine mixed with water. By 
 this means the animal was preserved entire, 
 without having time to contract itself, and he 
 thus perceived a variety of kinds, almost 
 equal to that variety of productions which 
 these little animals are seen to form. He 
 has been thus able to perceive and describe 
 fifty different kinds, each of which is seen to 
 possess its own peculiar mode of construc- 
 tion, and to form a coraline that none of the 
 rest can imitate. It is true, indeed, that on 
 every coraline substance there are a number 
 of polypi found, no way resembling those 
 which are the erectersof the building: these 
 may be called a vagabond race of reptiles, 
 that are only intruders upon the labours of 
 others, and that take possession of habita- 
 tions, which they have neither art nor power 
 to build for themselves. But, in general, the 
 same difference that subsists between the 
 honey-comb of the bee, and the paper-like 
 cells of the wasp, subsists between the dif- 
 ferent habitations of the coral-making polypi. 
 With regard to the various forms of these 
 substances, they have obtained different 
 names from the nature of the animal that pro- 
 duced them, or the likeness they bear to 
 some well-known object, such as coralines, 
 fungi-madrepores, sponges, astroites, and 
 keratophytes. Though these differ extreme- 
 ly in their outward appearances, yet they are 
 all formed in the same manner by reptiles of 
 various kinds and nature. When examined 
 chymically, they all discover the marks of 
 animal formation ; the corals, as was said, 
 dissolve in acids, the sponges burn with an 
 odour strongly resembling that of burnt horn. 
 
THE LYTHOPHYTES AND SPOiNGES. 
 
 839 
 
 We are left somewhat at a loss with regard 
 to the precise manner in which this multitude 
 of cells, which at last assume the appearance 
 of a plant or flower, are formed. 
 
 If we may be led in this subject by analogy, 
 it is most probable, that the substance of co- 
 ral is produced in the same manner that the 
 shell of the snail grows round it; these little 
 reptiles are each possessed of a slimy matter, 
 which covers its body, and this hardening, as 
 in the snail, becomes a habitation exactly 
 fitted to the body of the animal that is to re- 
 side in it ; several of these habitations being 
 joined together, form at length a considerable 
 mass; and as most animals are productive in 
 proportion to their minuteness, so these mul- 
 tiplying in a surprising degree, at length form 
 those extensive forests that cover the bottom 
 of the deep. 
 
 Thus all nature seems replete with life ; 
 almost every plant on land has its surface 
 covered with millions of these minute crea- 
 tures, of whose existence we are certain, but 
 of whose uses we are entirely ignorant ; 
 
 while numbers of what seem plants at sea, 
 are not only the receptacles of insects, but 
 also entirely of insect formation. This might 
 have led some late philosophers into an 
 opinion, that all nature was animated ; thai 
 every, even the most inert mass of matter, 
 was endued with life and bensation, but wan- 
 ed organs to make those sensations percepti- 
 ble lo the observer: those opinions, taken 
 up at random, are difficultly maintained, and 
 as difficultly refuted ; like combatants that 
 meet in the dark, each party may deal a 
 thousand blows without ever reaching the 
 adversary. Those, perhaps, are wiser, who- 
 view nature as she offers ; who, without 
 searching too deeply into the recesses into 
 which she ultimately hides, are contented to 
 take her as she presents herself; and storing 
 their minds with effects rather than with 
 causes, instead of the embarrassments of sys- 
 tems, about which few agree, are contented 
 with the history of appearances, concern- 
 ing which all mankind have but one opi- 
 nion. 
 
 END or GOLDSMITH'S HISTORY or THE EARTH AND ANIMATED NATVPE. 
 
TO THE 
 
 REV. HENRY GOLDSMITH. 
 
 DEAR SIR, 
 
 I AM sensible that the friendship between us can acquire no new force from the ceremonies of a dedication ; 
 and perhaps it demands an excuse thus to prefix your name to my attempts, which you decline giving with your own. 
 But as a part of this poem was formerly written to you from Switzerland, the whole can now, with propriety, be only 
 inscribed to you. It will also throw a light upon many parts of it, when the reader understands that it is addressed to a 
 man, who, despising fame and fortune, has retired early to happiness and obscurity, with an income of forty pounds a year. 
 
 I now perceive, my dear brother, the wisdom of your humble choice. You have entered upon a sacred office, where 
 the harvest is great, and the labourers are but few ; while you have left the field of ambition, where the labourers are 
 many, and the harvest not worth carrying away. But of all kinds of ambition, what from the refinement of the times, 
 from different systems of criticism, and from the divisions of party, that which pursues poetical fame is the wildest. 
 
 Poetry makes a principal amusement among unpolished nations ; but in a country verging to the extremes of refine- 
 ment, painting and music come in for a share. As these offer the feeble mind a less laborious entertainment, they at 
 first rival poetry, and at length supplant her ; they engross all that favour once shown to her, and, though but younger 
 sisters, seize upon the elder's birthright. 
 
 Yet however this art may be neglected by the powerful, it is still in greater danger from the mistaken efforts of the 
 learned to improve it. What criticisms have we not heard of late in favour of blank verse, and pindaric odes, cho* 
 nisses, anapests, and iambics, alliterative care, and happy negligence ! Every absurdity has now a champion to de 
 feud it ; and as he is generally much in the wrong, so he has always much to say ; for error is ever talkative. 
 
 But there is an enemy to this art still more dangerous; I mean party. Party entirely distorts the judgment, and 
 destroys the taste. When the mind is once infected with this disease, it can only find pleasure in what contributes to 
 increase the distemper. Like the tiger, that seldom desists from pursuing man, after having once preyed upon human 
 flesh, the reader, who has once gratified his appetite with calumny, makes ever after the most agreeable feast upon 
 murdered reputation. Such readers generally admire some half-witted thing, who wants to be thought a bold man, 
 having lost the character of a wise one. Him they dignify with the name of poet: his tawdry lampoons are called 
 satires ; his turbulence is said to be force, and his phrenzy fire. 
 
342 DEDICATION. 
 
 What reception a poem may find, which has neither abuse, party, nor blank verse to support it, I cannot tell, 
 nor am I solicitous to know. My aims are right. Without espousing the cause of any party, I have attempted to 
 moderate the rage of all. I have endeavoured to show, that there may be equal happiness in states that are differently 
 governed from our own ; that every state has a particular principle of happiness, and that this principle in each may 
 be carried to a mischievous excess. There are few can judge better than yourself how far these positions are illut- 
 trated in this poem. I am, dear sir, your most affectionate brother, 
 
 OLIVER GOLDSMITH. 
 
THE 
 
 REMOTE, unfriended, melancholy, slow, 
 
 Or by the lazy Scheld, or wandering Po ; 
 
 Or onward, whe're the rude Carinthian boor 
 
 Against the houseless stranger shuts the door ; 
 
 Or where Campania's plain forsaken lies, 
 
 A weary waste expanding to the skies; 
 
 Where'er I roam, whatever realms to see, 
 
 My heart, untravelled, fondly turns to thee ; 
 
 Still to my brother turns, with ceaseless pain, 
 
 And drags, at each remove, a lengthening chain ; 
 
 Eternal bless^gs crown my earliest friend, 
 
 And round his dwelling guardian saints attend ; 
 
 Blessed be that spot, where cheerful guests retire, 
 
 To pause from toil and trim their evening fire ; 
 
 Blessed that abode, where want and pain repair, 
 
 And every stranger finds a ready chair : 
 
 Blessed be those feasts, with simple plenty crowned, 
 
 Where all the ruddy family around 
 
 Laugh at the jests or pranks that never fail, 
 
 Or sigh with pity at some mournful tale ; 
 
 Or press the bashful stranger to his food, 
 
 And learn the luxury of doing good! 
 
 But me, not destined such delights to share, 
 My prime of life in wandering spent, and care 
 Impelled, with steps unceasing, to pursue 
 Some fleeting good, that mocks me with the view ; 
 That, like the circle, bounding earth- and skies, 
 Allures from far, yet, as I follow, flies ; 
 My fortune leads to traverse realms alone, 
 And find no spot of all the world my own. 
 
 MO. 71 & 72. 
 
 E'en now where Alpine solitudes ascend, 
 I sit me down a pensive hour to spend ; 
 And placed on high, above the storm's career, 
 Look downward where an hundred realms appear; 
 Lakes, forests, cities, plains, extending wide, 
 The pomp of kings, the shepherd's humbler pride. 
 
 When thus creation's charms around combine, 
 Amidst the store should thankless pride repine, 
 Say, should the philosophic mind disdain 
 That good which makes each humbler bosom vain ? 
 Let school-taught pride dissemble all it can, 
 These little things are great to little man ; 
 And wiser he, whose sympathetic mind 
 Exults in all the good of all mankind. 
 Ye glittering towns, with wealth and splendour crowned ; 
 Ye fields, where summer spreads profusion round ; 
 Ye lakes, whose vessels catch the busy gale ; 
 Ye bending swains, that dress the flowery vale; 
 For me your tributary stores combine : 
 Creation's heir ! the world, the world is mine ! 
 
 As some lone miser, visiting his store, 
 Bends at his treasure, counts, recounts it o'er ; 
 Hoards after hoards his rising raptures fill, 
 Yet still he sighs, for hoards are wanting still ; 
 Thus to my breast alternate passions rise, 
 Pleased with each good that heaven to man supplies ; 
 Yet oft a sigh prevails, and sorrows fall, 
 To see the hoard of human bliss so small : 
 And oft I wish, amidst the scene, to find 
 Some spot to real happiness consigned, 
 
 6A 
 
 
844 
 
 THE TRAVELLER. 
 
 Where my worn soul, each wandering hope at rest, 
 May gather bliss to see my fellows blessed. 
 
 But where to find that happiest spot below, 
 Who can direct, when all pretend to know ? 
 The shuddering tenant of the frigid zone 
 Boldly proclaims that happiest spot his own ; 
 Extols the treasures of his stormy seas, 
 And his long nights of revelry and ease ; ' 
 The naked negro, panting at the line, 
 Boasts of his golden sands and palmy wine ; 
 Uasks in the glare, or stems the tepid wave, 
 And thanks his gods for all the good they gave. 
 Such is the patriot's boast, where'er we roam ; 
 His first, best country ever is at home : 
 And yet, perhaps, if countries we compare, 
 And estimate the blessings which they share, 
 Though patriots flatter, still shall wisdom find 
 An equal portion dealt to aH mankind ; 
 As different good, by art or nature given, 
 To different nations, makes their blessings even. 
 
 Nature, a mother kind alike to all, 
 Still grants her bliss at labour's earnest call ; 
 With food as well the peasant is supplied 
 On Idra's cliffs as Arno's shelvy side ; 
 And though the rocky-crested summit's frown> 
 These rocks by custom turn to beds of down. 
 From art more various are the blessings sent ; 
 Wealth, commerce, honour, liberty, content : 
 Yet these each other's power so strorig contest 
 That either seems destructive of the rest. 
 Where wealth and freedom reign, contentment fails; 
 And honour sinks where commerce long prevails : 
 Hence every state, to one loved blessing prone, 
 Conforms and models life to that alone. 
 Each to the favourite happiness attends, 
 And spurns the plan, that aims at other ends ; 
 Till, carried to excess in each domain, 
 This favourite good begets peculiar pain. 
 
 But let us try these truths with closer eyes, 
 And trace them through the prospect as it lies ; 
 Here for a while my proper cares resigned, 
 Here let me sit in sorrow for mankind ; 
 Like yon neglected shrub at random easr^ 
 That shades the steep, and sighs at every blast. 
 
 Far to the right where Appennine ascends, 
 Bright as the summer, Italy extends ; 
 
 Its uplands sloping, deck the mountain's side, 
 Woods over woods in gay theatric pride ; 
 While oft some temple's mouldering tops between, 
 With venerable grandeur mark the scene. 
 
 Could nature's bounty satisfy the breast, 
 The sons of Italy were surely blest. 
 Whatever fruits in different climes are found, 
 That proudly rise, or humbly court the ground ; 
 Whatever blooms in torrid tracts appear, 
 Whose bright succession decks the varied year; 
 Whatever sweets salute the northern sky 
 With vernal lives, that blossom but to die : 
 These, here disporting, own the kindred soil, 
 Nor ask luxuriance from the planter's toil, 
 While sea-born gales their gelid wings expand, 
 To winnow fragrance round the smiling land. 
 
 But small the bliss that sense alone bestows, 
 And sensual bliss is all the nation knows. 
 In florid beauty groves and fields appear," 
 Man seems the only growth that dwindles here. 
 Contrasted faults through all his manners reign : 
 Though poor, luxurious ; though submissive, vain : 
 Though grave, yet trifling ; zealous, yet untrue ; 
 And e'en in penance planning sins anew. 
 All evils here contaminate the mind, 
 That opulence departed leaves behind ; 
 For wealth was theirs ; not far removed th~ date, 
 When commerce proudly flourished through the state; 
 At her command the palace learned to rise, 
 Again the long-fallen column sought the skies ; 
 The canvass glowed beyond e'en .nature warm, 
 The pregnant quarry teemed with human form j 
 Till, more unsteady than the southern gale, 
 Commerce on other shores displayed her sail ; 
 While nought remained of all that riches gave, 
 But towns unmanned and lords without a slave : 
 And late the nation found with fruitless skill 
 Its former strength was but plethoric ill. 
 
 Yet still the loss of wealth is here supplied 
 By arts, the splendid wrecks of former pride ; 
 From these the feeble heart and long-fallen mind 
 An easy compensation seem to find. 
 Here may be seen, in bloodless pomp arrayed, 
 The pasteboard triumph and the cavalcade ; 
 Processions formed for piety and love, 
 A mistress or a saint in every grove. 
 
THE TRAVELLER. 
 
 845 
 
 By sports like these are all their cares beguiled, 
 The sports of children satisfy the child ; 
 Eacli nobler aim, repressed by long control, 
 Now sinks at last, or feebly mans the soul ; 
 While low delights, succeeding fast behind, 
 In happier meanness occupy the mind : 
 As in those domes, where Caesars once bore sway, 
 Defaced by time, and tottering in decay, 
 There in the ruin, heedless of the dead, 
 The shelter-seeking peasant builds his shed ; 
 And, wondering man could want the larger pile, 
 Exults, and owns his cottage with a smile. 
 
 My soul, turn from them turn we to survey 
 Where rougher climes a nobler race display ; 
 Where the bleak Swiss their stormy mansion tread, 
 And force a churlish soil for scanty bread. 
 No product here the barren hills afford, 
 But man and steel, the soldier and his sword. 
 No vernal blooms their torpid rocks array, 
 But winter, lingering chills the lap of May ; 
 No zephyr fondly sues the mountain's breast, 
 But meteors glare, and stormy glooms invest. 
 
 Yet still e'en here, content can spread a charm, 
 Redress the clime, and all its rage disarm. 
 Though poor the peasant's hut, his feasts though small, 
 He sees his little lot the lot of all ; 
 Sees no contiguous palace rear its head, 
 To shame the meanness of his humble shed ; 
 No costly lord the sumptuous banquet deal, 
 To make him loath his vegetable meal ; 
 But calm, and bred in ignorance and toil, 
 Each wish contracting, fits him to the soil. , 
 
 Cheerful at morn, he wakes from short repose, 
 Breaths the keen air, and carols as he goes : 
 With patent angle trolls the finny deep, 
 Or drives his venturous plough-share to the steep ; 
 Or seeks the den where snow-tracks mark the way, 
 And drags the struggling savage into day. 
 At night returning, every labour sped, 
 He sits him down, the monarch of a shed ; 
 Smiles by his cheerful fire, and round surveys 
 His children's looks, that brighten at the blaze : 
 While his loved partner, boastful of her hoard, 
 Displays her cleanly platter on the board ; 
 And haply, too, some pilgrim thither led, 
 With many a tale repays the nightly bed. 
 
 Thus every good his native wilds impart 
 Imprints the patriot passion on his heart : 
 And e'en those hills, that round his mansion rise, 
 Enhance the bliss his scanty fund supplies. 
 Dear is that shed to which his soul conforms, 
 And dear that hill which lifts him to the storms ; 
 And as a child, when scaring sounds molest, 
 Clings close and closer to the mother's breast, 
 So the loud torrent, and the whirlwind's roar, 
 But bind him to his native mountains more. 
 
 Such are the charms to barren states assigned, 
 Their wants but few, their wishes all confined. 
 Yet let them only share the praises due ; 
 If few their wants, their pleasures are but few ; 
 For every want that stimulates the breast, 
 Becomes a source of pleasure when redressed. 
 Whence from such lands each pleasing science flies, 
 That first excites desire, and then supplies ; 
 Unknown to them, when sensual pleasures cloy, 
 To fill the languid pause with finer joy ; 
 Unknown those powers that raise the soul to flame, 
 Catch every nerve, and vibrate through the frame. 
 Their level life is but a mouldering fire, 
 Unquenched by want, unfanned by strong desire ; 
 Unfit fur raptures; or, if raptures cheer, 
 On some high festival of once a year, 
 In wild excess the vulgar breast takes fire, 
 Till, buried in debauch, the bliss expire. 
 
 But not their joys alone thus coarsely flow ; 
 Their morals, like their pleasures, are but low > 
 For, as refinement stops, from sire to son, 
 Unaltered, unimproved, the manners run ; 
 And love's and friendship's finely-pointed dart 
 Fall blunted from each indurated heart. 
 Some sterner virtues o'er the mountain's breast 
 May sit like falcons cowering on the nest ; 
 But all the gentler morals, such as play 
 Through life's more cultured walks and charm the way, 
 These far dispersed, on timorous pinions fly. 
 To sport and flutter in a kinder sky. 
 
 To kinder skies, where gentler manners reign, 
 I turn and France displays her bright domain. 
 Gay sprightly land of mirth and social ease, 
 Pleased with thyself, whom all the world can please, 
 How often have I led thy sportive choir, 
 With tuneless pipe, beside the murmuring Loire ! 
 
 6 A* 
 
846 
 
 THE TRAVELLER. 
 
 Where shading elms along the margin grew, 
 And, freshened from the wave, the zephyr flew ; 
 And Imply, though my harsh touch faltering still, 
 But mocked all tune, and marred the dancers' skill, 
 Yet would the village praise my wonderous power, 
 And dance, forgetful of the noon-tide hour ! 
 Mike all ages. Dames of ancient days 
 Slave led their children through the mirthful maze ; 
 And the gay grandsire, skilled in gestic lore, 
 Has frisked beneatli the burden of threescore. 
 
 So blessed a life these thoughtless realms display, 
 Thus idly busy rolls their world away: 
 Theirs are those arts that mind to mind endear, 
 For honour forms the social temper here. 
 Honour, that praise which real merit gains, 
 Or e'en imaginary worth obtains, 
 Here passes current ; paid from hand to hand,. 
 It shifts in splendid traffic round the land ; 
 From courts to camps, to cottages it strays, 
 And all are taught an avarice of praise; 
 They please, are pleased, they give to get esteem, 
 Till seeming blessed, they grow to what they seem. 
 
 But while this softer art their bliss supplies, 
 It gives their follies also room to rise; 
 For praise too dearly loved, or warmly sought, 
 Enfeebles all internal strength of thought; 
 And the weak soul, within itself unblessed, 
 Leans for all pleasure on another's breast. 
 Hence ostentation here with tawdry art, 
 Pants for the vulgar praise which fools impart t 
 Here vanity assumes her pert .grimace, 
 And trims her robes of frieze with copper lace ; 
 Here beggar-pride defrauds her daily cheer, 
 To boast one splendid banquet once a year ; 
 The mind still turns where shifting fashion draws, 
 Nor weighs the solid worth of self-applause. 
 
 To men of other minds my fancy flies, 
 Embosomed in the deep where Holland lies. , 
 
 Methinks her patient sons before me stand, 
 Where the broad ocean leans against the land: 
 And sedulous to stop the coming tide, 
 Lift the tall rampire's artificial pride. 
 Onward, nit-thinks, and diligently slow, 
 The firm connected bulwark seems to grow ; 
 Spreads its long arms amidst the watery roar, 
 Scoops out an empire, and usurps the shore, 
 
 While the pent ocean, rising o'er the pile, 
 
 Sees an amphibious world beneath him smile ; 
 
 The slow canal, the yellow-blossomed vale, 
 
 The willow-tufted bank, ihe gliding sail, 
 
 The crowded mart, the cultivated plain ; 
 
 A new creation rescued from his reigji. 
 
 Thus while around the wave-subjected soil 
 
 Impels the native to repeated toil, 
 
 Industrious h;ibits in each bosom reign, 
 
 And industry begets a love of gain. 
 
 Hence all the good from opulence that springs, 
 
 With all those ills superfluous treasure brings 
 
 Are here displayed. Their much-loved wealth imparts- 
 
 Convenience, plenty, elegance, and arts ; 
 
 But view them closer, craft and fraud appear, 
 
 E'en liberty itself is bartered here. 
 
 At gold's superior charms all freedom flies, 
 
 The needy sell it, and the rich man buys ; 
 
 A land of tyrants, and a den of slaves, 
 
 Here wretches seek dishonourable graves, 
 
 And calmly bent, to servitude conform, 
 
 Dull as their lakes that slumber in the storm. 
 
 Heavens ! how unlike their Belgic sires of old ! 
 Rough, poor, content, ungovernably bold ; 
 War in each breast, and freedom on each brow ;. 
 How much unlike the sons of Britain now ! 
 
 Fired at the sound, my genius spreads her wing, 
 And flies where Britain courts the western spring ; 
 Where lawns extend that scorn Arcadian pride, 
 And brighter streams than famed Hydaspis glide. 
 There all around the gentlest breezes stray, 
 There gentle music melts on every spray ; 
 Creation's mildest charms are there combined ; 
 Extremes are only in the master's mind ! 
 Stern o'er each bosom, reason holds her state, 
 With daring aims irregularly great : 
 Pride in their port, defiance in their eye, 
 I see the lords of human-kind pass by ; 
 Intent on high designs, a thoughtful band, 
 By forms unfashioned fresh from nature's hand; 
 Fierce in their native hardiness of soul, 
 True to imagined right, above control, 
 While e'en the peasant boasts these rights to scan, 
 And learns to venerate himself as man. 
 
 Thine, Freedom, thine tire blessings pictured here, 
 Thine are those charms that dazzle and endear -. 
 
THE TRAVELLER. 
 
 347 
 
 Too blessed, indeed, were such without alloy, 
 But fostered e'en by Freedom ills annoy ; 
 That independence Britons prize too high, 
 Keeps man from man, and breaks the social tie; 
 The self-dependent lordlings stand alone, 
 .All claims that bind and sweeten life unknown; 
 Here, by the bonds of nature feebly held, 
 Minds combat minds, repelling and repelled ; 
 Ferments arise, imprisoned factions roar, 
 Repressed ambition struggles round her shore. 
 Till, over-wrought, the general systems feels 
 Its motions stop, or phrenzy fire the wheels. 
 
 Nor this the worst. As nature's ties decay, 
 As duty, love, and honour fail to sway, 
 Fictitious bonds, the bonds of wealth and law, 
 Still gather strength, and force unwilling awe. 
 Hence all obedience bows to these alone, 
 And talent sinks, and merit weeps unknown ; 
 Till time may come, when, stripped of all her charms, 
 The land of scholars, and the nurse of arms, 
 Where noble stems transmit the patriot flame, 
 Where kings have toiled, and poets wrote for fame, 
 One sink of level avarice shall lie, 
 And scholars, soldiers, kings, unhonoured die. 
 
 Yet think not, thus when freedom's ills I state, 
 I mean to flatter kings, or court the great : 
 Ye powers of truth ! that bid my soul aspire, 
 Far from my bosom drive the low desire ! 
 And thou, fair Freedom ! taught alike to feel 
 The rabble's rage, and tyrant's angry steel ; 
 Thou transitory flower ! alike undone 
 By proud Contempt, or Favour's fostering sun, 
 Still may thy blooms the changeful clime endure, 
 I only would repress them to secure ; 
 For just experience tells, in every soil, 
 That those who think must govern those that toil ; 
 And all that Freedom's highest aims can reach, 
 Is but to lay proportioned loads on each. 
 Hence, should one order disproportioned grow, 
 Its double weight must ruin all below. , 
 
 O then, how blind to all that truth requires, 
 Who think it freedom when a part aspires! 
 Calm is my soul, nor apt to rise in arms, 
 Except when fast-approaching danger warms ; 
 But when contending chiefs blockade the throne, 
 Contracting regal power to stretch their own ; 
 
 When I behold a factious band agree 
 
 To call it freedom when themselves are free ; 
 
 Each wanton judge new penal statutes draw, 
 
 Laws grind the poor, and rich men rule the law ; 
 
 The wealth of climes, where savage nations roam, 
 
 Pillaged from slaves, to purchase slaves at home ; 
 
 Fear, pity, justice, indignation start, 
 
 Tear ofF reserve, and bear my swelling heart ; 
 
 Till half a patriot, half a coward grown, 
 
 I fly from petty tyrants to the throne. 
 
 .Yes, brother, curse with me that baleful hour, 
 When first ambition struck at regal power ; 
 And thus polluting honour in its source, 
 Gave wealth to sway the mind with double force. 
 Have we not seen round Britain's peopled shore, 
 Her useful sons exchanged for useless ore ? 
 Seen all her triumphs but destruction haste, 
 Like flaring tapers, brightening as they waste ; 
 Seen Opulence her grandeur to maintain, 
 Lead stem Depopulation in her train, 
 And over fields, where scattered hamlets rose, 
 In barren, solitary pomp repose ? 
 Have we not seen, at Pleasure's lordly call, 
 The smiling long-frequented village fall ? 
 Behold the duteous son, the sire decayed, 
 The modest matron, and the blushing maid. 
 Forced from their homes, a melancholy train, 
 To traverse climes beyond the western main ; 
 Where wild Oswego spreads her swamps around, 
 And Niagara stuns with thundering sound ? 
 
 E'en now, perhaps, as there some pilgrim strays, 
 Through tangled forests, and through dangerous ways j 
 Where beasts with man divided empire claim, 
 And the brown Indian marks with murderous aim ; 
 There, while above the giddy tempest flies,. 
 And all around distrustful yells arise, 
 The pensive exile, bending with his woe, 
 To stop too fearful, and too faint to go, 
 Casts a long look where England's glories shine,. 
 And bids his bosom sympathize with mine. 
 
 Vain, very vain, my weary search to find 
 That bliss which only centres in the mind ! 
 Why have I strayed from pleasure and repose, 
 To seek a good each government bestows ? 
 In every government though terrors reign, 
 Though tyrant kings, or tyrant laws restrain,. 
 
848 
 
 THE TRAVELLER. 
 
 JIow small, of all that human hearts endure, 
 That part which laws or kings can cause or cure. 
 Still to ourselves in every place consigned, 
 Our own folicity we make or find ; 
 With secret course, which no loud storms annoy, 
 
 Glides the smooth current of domestic joy. 
 The lifted axe, the agonizing wheel, 
 Luke's iron crown, and Damien's bed of steel, 
 To men remote from power but rarely known, 
 Leave reason, faith, and conscience, all our own. 
 
TO 
 
 SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 
 
 DEAR SIB 
 
 I CAN have no expectations, in an address of this kind, either to add to your reputation, or to establish my own. You can 
 gain nothing from my admiration, as I am ignorant of that art in which you are said to excel ; and I may lose much by tne 
 severity of your judgment, as few have a juster taste in poetry than you. Setting interest therefore aside, to which I never 
 paid much attention, I must be indulged at present in following my affections. The only dedication I ever made was to my 
 brother, because I loved him better than most other men. He is since dead. Permit me to inscribe this poem to you. 
 
 How far you may be pleased with the versification and mere mechanical parts of this attempt, I do not pretend to inquire ; 
 but I know you will object (and indeed several of our best and wisest friends concur in the opinion) that the depopulation it 
 deplores is no where to be seen, and the disorders it laments are only to be found in the poet's own imagination. To this 
 I can scarce make any other answer, than that I sincerely believe what I have written ; that I have taken all possible pains, 
 in my country excursions, for these four or five years past, to be certain of what I allege, and that all my views and inquiries 
 have led me to believe those miseries real which I here attempt to display. But this is not the place to enter into an in- 
 quiry, whether the country be depopulating, or not ; the discussion would take up much room ; and I should prove myself, 
 at best, an indifferent politician, to tire the reader with a long preface, when I want his unfatigued attention to a long poem. 
 
 In regretting the depopulation of the country, I inveigh against the increase of our luxuries ; and here also 1 expect the 
 shout of modern politicians against me. For twenty or thirty years past, it has been the fashion to consider luxury as one 
 of the greatest national advantages ; and all the wisdom of antiquity in that particular as erroneous. Still, however, I must 
 remain a professed ancient on that head, and continue to think those luxuries prejudicial to states, by which so many vices 
 are introduced, and so many kingdoms have been undone. Indeed, so much has been poured out of late on the other side of 
 the question, that, merely for the sake of novelty and variety, one would sometimes wish to be in the right. 
 
 I am, dear sir, 
 
 your sincere friend, 
 
 and ardent admirer, 
 
 OLIVER GOLDSMITH. 
 
THE 
 
 SWEET AUBURN ! loveliest village of the plain, 
 
 Where health and plenty cheered the lab'ring swain, 
 
 Where smiling spring its earliest visit paid, 
 
 And parting summer's lingering blooms delayed. 
 
 Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease, 
 
 Seats of my youth, when every sport could please, 
 
 How often have I loitered o'er thy green, 
 
 Where humble happiness endeared each scene ! 
 
 How often have I paused on every charm, 
 
 The sheltered cot, the cultivated farm, 
 
 The never-failing brook, the busy mill, 
 
 The decent church, that topt the neighbouring hill; 
 
 The hawthorn bush, with seats beneath the shade ; 
 
 For talking age and whispering lovers made ! 
 
 How often have I blest the coming day, 
 
 When toil remitting lent its turn to play, 
 
 And all the village train, from labour free, 
 
 Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree, 
 
 While many a pastime circled in the shade, 
 
 The young contending as the old surveyed ; 
 
 And many a gambol frolic'd o'er the ground, 
 
 And sleights of art and feats of strength went round. 
 
 And still, as each repeated pleasure tired, 
 
 Succeeding sports the mirthful band inspired ; 
 
 The dancing pair that simply sought renown, 
 
 By holding out, to tire each other down ; 
 
 The swain mistrustless of his smutted face, 
 
 While secret laughter tittered round the place ; 
 
 The bashful virgin's side-long looks of love, 
 
 The matron's glance that would those looks reprove. 
 
 These were thy charms, sweet villap* sports like these, 
 With sweet succession, taught e'en toil to please ; 
 These round thy bowers their cheerful influence shed, 
 These were thy charms but all these charms are fled. 
 
 Sweet smiling village ! loveliest of the lawn, 
 Thy sports are fled, and all thy charms withdrawn ; 
 Amidst thy bowers the tyrant's hand is seen, 
 And desolation saddens all thy green : 
 One only master grasps the whole domain, 
 And half a tillage stints thy smiling plain ; 
 No more thy glassy brook reflects the day, 
 But choked with sedges, works its weedy way ; 
 Along thy glades, a solitary guest, 
 The hollow-sounding bittern guards its nest ; 
 Amidst thy desert walks the lapwing flies, 
 And tires their echoes with unvaried cries, 
 Sunk are thy bowers in shapeless ruin all, 
 And the long grass o'ertops the mouldering wall ; 
 And, trembling, shrinking, from the spoiler's hand, 
 Far, far away thy children leave the land. 
 
 Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey ; 
 Where wealth accumulates, and men decay : 
 Princes and lords may flourish or may fade ; 
 A breath can make them, as a breath has made : 
 But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, 
 When once destroyed, can never be supplied. 
 A time there was, ere England's griefs began, 
 When every rood of ground maintained its man; 
 For him light labour spread her wholesome store, 
 Just gave what life required, but gave no more: 
 
THE DESERTED VILLAGE. 
 
 His best companions, innocence and health ; 
 And his best riches, ignorance of wealth. 
 
 But times are altered : trade's unfeeling train 
 Usurp the land, and dispossess the swain ; 
 Along the lawn, where scattered hamlets rose, 
 Unwieldy wealth, and cumberous pomp repose: 
 And every want to luxury allied, 
 And every pang that folly pays to pride. 
 Those gentle hours that plenty bade to bloom ; 
 Those calm desires that asked but little room ; 
 Those healthful sports that graced the peaceful scene, 
 Lived in each look, and brightened all the green ; 
 These, far departing, seek a kinder shore, 
 And rural mirth and manners are no more. 
 
 Sweet Auburn ! parent of the blissful hour, 
 Thy glades forlorn confess the tyrant's power. 
 Here, as I take my solitary rounds, 
 Amidst thy tangling walks and ruined grounds, 
 And, many a year elapsed, returned to view 
 Where once the cottage stood, the hawthorn grew, 
 Remembrance wakes, with all her busy train, 
 Swells at my breast, and turns the past to pain. 
 
 In all my wanderings through this world of care, 
 In all my griefs and God has given my share 
 I still had hopes my latest hours to crown, 
 Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down ; 
 To husband out life's taper at the close, 
 And keep the flame from wasting by repose : 
 I still had hopes, for pride attends us still, 
 Amidst the swains to show my book-learned skill, 
 Around my fire an evening group to draw, 
 And tell of all I felt, and all I saw ; 
 And as a hare, whom hounds and horns pursue, 
 Pants to the place from whence at first she flew, 
 I still had hopes, my long vexations past, 
 Here to return and die at home at last. 
 
 O blest retirement ! friend to life's decline, 
 Retreat from cares, that never must be mine, 
 How blest is he who crowns, in shades like these, 
 A youth of labour with an age of ease ! 
 Who quits a world where strong temptations try, 
 And since 'tis hard to combat, learns to fly ! 
 For him no wretches, born to work and weep, 
 Explore the mine, or tempt the dangerous deep.; 
 No surly porter stands in guilty state, 
 To spurn imploring famine from the gate; 
 
 wo. 71 & 72. 
 
 But on he moves to mnet his latter end, 
 
 Angels around befriending virtue's friend ; 
 
 Sinks to the grave with unperceived decay, 
 
 While resignation gently slopes the way ; 
 
 And all his prospects brightening to the last, 
 
 His heaven commences ere the world be past ! 
 
 Sweet was the sound, when oft, at evening's close, 
 
 Up yonder hill die village murmur rose; 
 
 There, as I passed with careless steps and slow, 
 
 The mingling notes came softened from below; 
 
 The swain responsive, as the milk-maid sung ; 
 
 The sober herd, that lowed to meet their young : 
 
 The noisy geese, that gabbled o'er the pool ; 
 
 The playful children, just let loose from school ; 
 
 The watch-dog's voice, that bayed the whispering wind ; 
 
 And the loud laugh, that spoke the vacant mind ; 
 
 These all in sweet confusion sought the shade, 
 
 And filled each pause the nightingale had made. 
 
 But now the sounds of population fail, 
 
 No cheerful murmurs fluctuate in the gale ; 
 
 No busy steps the grass-grown foot-way tread, 
 
 But all the bloomy flush of life is fled. 
 
 All but yon widowed solitary thing, 
 
 That feebly bends beside the plashy spring ; 
 
 She, wretched matron, forced, in age, for bread, 
 
 To strip the brook with mantling cresses spread, 
 
 To pick her wintry faggot from the thorn, 
 
 To seek her nightly shed and weep till morn ; 
 
 She only left of all the harmless train, 
 
 The sad historian of the pensive plain. 
 
 Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, 
 And still where many a garden flower grows wild ; 
 There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, 
 The village preacher's modest mansion rose. 
 A man he was, to all the country dear, 
 And passing rich with forty pounds a year ; 
 Remote from towns he ran his godly race, 
 Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change his place ; 
 Unskilful he to fawn, or seek for power, 
 By doctrines fashioned to the varying hour; 
 Far other aims his heart had learned to prize, 
 More bent to raise the wretched than to rise. 
 His house was known to all the vagrant train, 
 He chid their wanderings, but relieved their pain. 
 The long remembered beggar was his guest, 
 Whose beard descending swept his aged breast j 
 CB 
 
852 
 
 THE DESERTED VILLAGE. 
 
 The ruined spendthrift, now no loe o er proud, 
 
 Claimed kindred there, and had his claims allowed ; 
 
 The broken soldier kindly bade to stay, 
 
 Sat by his fire, and talked the night away ; 
 
 Wept o'er his wounds, or tales of sorrow done, 
 
 Shoulder 'd his crutch, and show'd how fields were won. 
 
 Pleased with his guests, the good man learned to glow, 
 
 And quite forgot their vices in their woe ; 
 
 Careless their merits or their faults to scan, 
 
 His pity gave ere charity began. 
 
 Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride, 
 
 And even his failings leaned to virtue's side; 
 
 But in his duty, prompt at every call, 
 
 He watched and wept, he prayed and felt for all. 
 
 And, as a bird each fond endearment tries, 
 
 To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, 
 
 He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, 
 
 Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way. 
 
 Beside the bed where parting life was laid, 
 And sorrow, guilt, and pain, by turns dismayed, 
 The reverend champion stood. At his control, 
 Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul ; 
 Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise, 
 And his last faltering accents whispered praise. 
 
 At church, with meek and unaffected grace, 
 His looks adorned the venerable place ; 
 Truth from his lips prevailed with double sway, 
 And fools, who came to scoff, remained to pray. 
 The service past, around the pious man, 
 With ready zeal, each honest rustic ran ; 
 E'en children followed with endearing wile, 
 And plucked his gown, to share the good man's smile. 
 His ready smile a parent's warmth exprest ; 
 Their welfare pleased him, and their cares distrest ; 
 To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given, 
 But nil his serious thoughts had rest in heaven. 
 As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form, 
 Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm, 
 Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, 
 Eternal sunshine settles on its head. 
 
 Beside yon straggling fence, that skirts the way 
 With blossomed furze unprofitably gay, 
 There, in his noisy mansion, skilled to rule, 
 The village master taught his little school ; 
 A man severe he was, and stern to view ; 
 I knew him well, and every truant knew ; 
 
 Well had the boding tremblers learned to trace 
 
 The day's disasters in his morning face ; 
 
 Full well they laughed, with counterfeited glee, 
 
 At all his jokes, for many a joke had he ; 
 
 Full well the busy whisper, circling round, 
 
 Conveyed the dismal tidings when he frowned ; 
 
 Yet he was kind, or if severe in aught, 
 
 The love he bore to learning was in fault ; 
 
 The village all declared how much he knew, 
 
 'Twas certain he could write, and cipher too ; 
 
 Lands he could measure, terms and tides presage ; 
 
 And even the story ran, that he could guage : 
 
 In arguing too, the parson owned his skill, 
 
 For even though vanquished he could argue still ; 
 
 While words of learned strength, and thundering sound, 
 
 Amazed the gazing rustics ranged around ; 
 
 And still they gazed, and still the wonder grew, 
 
 That one small head ronld carry all he knew. 
 
 But past is all his fame. The very spot 
 
 Where many a time he triumphed is forgot. 
 
 Near yonder thorn, that lifts its head on high, 
 Where once the sign-post caught the passing eye, 
 Low lies that house where nut-brown draughts inspired, 
 Where gray-beard mirth, and smiling toil retired, 
 Where village statesmen talked with looks profound, 
 And news much older than their ale went round. 
 Imagination fondly stoops to trace 
 The parlour splendours of that festive place ; 
 The white-washed wall, the nicely sanded floor, 
 The varnished clock that clicked behind the door ; 
 The chest, contrived a double debt to pay, 
 A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day ; 
 The pictures placed for ornament and use, 
 The twelve good rules, the royal game of goose ; 
 The hearth, except when winter chilled the day, 
 With aspen boughs, and flowers and fennel gay j 
 While broken tea-cups, wisely kept for show, 
 Ranged o'er the chimney, glistened in 'a row. 
 
 Vain transitory splendour ! could not all 
 Reprieve the tottering mansion from its fall ? 
 Obscure it sinks, nor shall it more impart 
 An hour's importance to the poor man's heart : 
 Thither no more the peasant shall repair, 
 To sweet oblivion >! 'las laily care ; 
 No more the farmer's news, the barber's tale, 
 No more the woodman's ballad, shall prevail ; 
 
THE DESERTED VILLAGE. 
 
 853 
 
 No more the smith his dusky brow shall clear, 
 Relax his ponderous strength, and lean to hear ; 
 The host himself no longer shall be found 
 Careful to sec the mantling'bliss go round ; 
 Nor the coy maid, half willing to be pre.st, 
 Shall kiss the cup to pass it to the rest. 
 
 Yes! lut the rich deride, the proud disdain, 
 These simple blessings of the lowly train, 
 To me more dear, congenial to my heart, 
 One native charm, than all the gloss of art ; 
 Spontaneous joys, where nature has its play, 
 The soul adopts, and owns their first-born sway : 
 Lightly they frolic o'er the vacant mind, 
 Unenvied, unmolested, unconfined. 
 But the long pomp, the midnight masquerade, 
 With all their freaks of wanton wealth arrayed, 
 In these, ere triflers half their wish obtain, 
 The toiling pleasure sickens into pain ; 
 And, even while fashion's brightest arts decoy, 
 The heart distrusting asks, if this be joy ? 
 
 Ye friends to truth, ye statesmen, who survey 
 The rich man's joys, increase, the poor's decay, 
 'Tis yours to judge, how wide the limits stand 
 Between a splendid and a happy land. 
 Proud swells the tide with loads of freighted ore, 
 And shouting Folly hails them from her shore ; 
 Hoards, even beyond the miser's wish, abound, 
 And rich men flock from all the world around. 
 Yet count our gains. This wealth is but a name 
 That leaves our useful product still the same. 
 Not so the loss. The man of wealth and pride 
 Takes up a space that many poor supplied ; 
 Space for his lake, his park's extended bounds, 
 Space for his horses, equipage, and hounds ; 
 The robe that wraps his limbs in silken sloth, 
 Has robbed the neighbouring fields of half their growth; 
 His seat, where solitary sports are seen, 
 Indignant spurns the cottage from the green : 
 Around the world each needful product flies, 
 For all the luxuries the world supplies. 
 While thus the land adorned for pleasure, all 
 In barren splendour feebly waits the fall. 
 
 As some fair female unadorned and plain, 
 Secure to please while youth confirms her reign, 
 Slights every borrowed charm that dress supplies, 
 Nor shares with art the triumph of her eyes ; 
 
 But when those charms are past, (for charms are frail,) 
 
 When time advances, and when lovers fail, 
 
 iilie then >liines ford), solicitous to bless, 
 
 In all the glaring impotence of dress. 
 
 Tims fares the land by luxury betrayed, 
 
 In nature's simplest charms at first arrayed, 
 
 But verging to decline, its splendours rise, 
 
 Its vistas strike, its palaces surprise ; 
 
 While scourged by famine from the smiling land, 
 
 The mournful peasant leads his humble band; 
 
 And while he sinks, without one arm to save, 
 
 The country blooms a garden and a grave. 
 
 Where then, ah ! where shall poverty reside, 
 To 'scape the pressure of contiguous pride ? 
 If to some common's fenceless limits strayed, 
 He drives his flock to pick the scanty blade, 
 Those fenceless fields the sons of wealth divide, 
 And even the bare-worn common is denied. 
 
 If to the city sped what waits him there? 
 To see profusion that he must not share; 
 To see ten thousand baneful arts combined 
 To pamper luxury and thin mankind ; 
 To see each joy the sons of pleasure know 
 Extorted from his fellow creature's woe. 
 Here, while the courtier glitters in brocade, 
 There the pale artist plies the sickly trade ; 
 Here, while the proud their long drawn pomps display, 
 There the black gibbet glooms beside the way : 
 The dome where Pleasure holds her midnight reign, 
 Here, richly decked, admits the gorgeous train; 
 Tumultuous grandeur crowds the blazing square, 
 The rattling chariots clash, the torches glare. 
 Sure scenes like these no troubles e'er annoy ! 
 Sure these denote one universal joy ! 
 Are these thy serious thoughts ? Ah, turn thine eyes 
 Where the poor houseless shivering female lies. 
 She once, perhaps, in village plenty blest, 
 Has wept at tales of innocence distrest ; 
 Her modest looks the cottage might adorn, 
 Sweet as the primrose peeps beneath the thorn ; 
 Now lost to all ; her friends, her virtue fled, 
 Near her betrayer's door she lays her head ; 
 And, pinched with cold, and shrinking from the shower a 
 With heavy heart deplores that luckless hour, 
 When idly first, ambitious of the town, 
 She left her wheel, and robes of country brown. 
 
 6B 
 
854 
 
 THE DESERTED VILLAGE. 
 
 Do thine, sweet Auburn, thine the loveliest train, 
 Do thy fair tribes participate her pain ? 
 Even now, perhaps, by cold and hunger led, 
 At proud men's doors they ask a little bread ! 
 
 Ah, no. To distant climes, a dreary scene, 
 Where half the convex world intrudes between, 
 Through torrid tracks with fainting steps they go, 
 Where wild Altama murmurs to their woe. 
 Far different there from all that charmed before, 
 The various terrors of that horrid shore ; 
 Those blazing suns that dart a downward ray, 
 And fiercely shed intolerable day ; 
 Those matted woods where birds forget to sing, 
 But silent bats in drowsy clusters cling ; 
 Those poisonous fields with rank luxuriance crowned, 
 Where the dark scorpion gathers death around ; 
 Where at each step the stranger fears to wake 
 The rattling terrors of the vengeful snake ; 
 Where crouching tigers wait their hapless prey, 
 And savage men more murderous still than they ; 
 While oft in whirls the mad tornado flies, 
 Mingling the ravaged landscape with the skies. 
 Far different these from every former scene, 
 The cooling brook, the grassy-vested green, 
 The breezy covert of the warbling grove, 
 That only sheltered thefts of harmless love. 
 
 Good heaven ! what sorrows gloomed that parting day, 
 That called them from their native walks away ; 
 When the poor exiles, every pleasure past, 
 Hung round the bowers, and fondly looked their last, 
 And took a long farewell, and wished in vain 
 For seats like these beyond the western main; 
 And, shuddering still to face the distant deep, 
 Returned and wept, and still returned to weep. 
 The good old sire, the first prepared to go 
 To new-found worlds, and wept for others' woe ; 
 But for himself, in conscious virtue brave, 
 He only wished for worlds beyond the grave. 
 His lovely daughter, lovelier in her tears, 
 The fond companion of his helpless years, 
 Silent went next, neglectful of her charms, 
 And left a lover's for a father's arms. 
 With louder plaints the mother spoke her woes, 
 And blessed the cot where every pleasure rose ; 
 And kissed her thoughtless babes with many a tear, 
 And clasped them close, in sorrow doubly dear; 
 Whilst her fund husband strove to lend relief 
 
 In all the silent manliness of grief. 
 
 O, luxury ! thou cursed by heaven's decree, 
 How ill exchanged are things like these for thee ! 
 How do thy potions, with insidious joy, 
 Diffuse their pleasures only to destroy ! 
 Kingdoms by thee, to sickly greatness grown, 
 Boast of a florid vigour not their own. 
 At every draught large and more large they grow, 
 A bloated mass of rank unwieldy woe ; 
 Till sapped their strength, and every part unsound, 
 Down, down they sink, and spread a ruin round. 
 
 E'en now the devastation is begun, 
 And half the business of destruction done ; 
 E'en now, methinks, as pondering here I stand, 
 I see the rural virtues leave the land. 
 Down where yon anchoring vessel spreads the sail, 
 That idly waiting flaps with every gale, 
 Downward they move, a melancholy band, 
 Pass from the shore, and darken all the strand. 
 Contented toil, and hospitable care, 
 And kind connubial tenderness, are there ; 
 And piety, with wishes placed above," 
 And steady loyalty, and faithful love. 
 And thou, sweet poetry, thou loveliest maid, 
 Still first to fly where sensual joys invade; 
 Unfit, in these degenerate times of shame, 
 To catch the heart, or strike for honest fame ; 
 Dear charming nymph ! neglected and decried, 
 My shame in crowds, my solitary pride. 
 Thou source of all my bliss, and all my woe, 
 That found'st me poor at first, and keep'st me so; 
 Thou guide, by which the nobler arts excel, 
 Thou nurse of every virtue, fare thee well ; 
 Farewell, and O ! where'er thy voice be tried, 
 On Torno's cliffs, or Pambamarca's side, 
 Whether where equinoctial fervours glow, 
 Or winter wraps the polar world in snow, 
 Still let thy voice, prevailing over time, 
 Redress the rigours of the inclement clime ; 
 Aid slighted truth, with thy persuasive strain ; 
 Teach erring man (o spurn the rage of gain ; 
 Teach him, that states of native strength possessed, 
 Though very poor, may still be very blessed ; 
 That trade's proud empire hastes to swift decay, 
 As ocean sweeps the laboured mole away ; 
 While self-dependent power can time defy, 
 As rock resist the billows and the sky. 
 
THE 
 
 OR, 
 
 EDWIN AND ANGELINA. 
 
 ' TURN, gentle hermit of the dale, 
 And guide my lonely way, 
 
 To where yon taper cheers the vale 
 With hospitable ray : 
 
 ' For here forlorn and lost I tread, 
 With fainting steps and slow ; 
 
 Where wilds immeasurably spread, 
 Seem lengthening as I go.' 
 
 4 Forbear, my son,' the Hermit cries, 
 4 To tempt the dangerous gloom ; 
 
 For yonder faithless phantom flies 
 To lure thee to thy doom. 
 
 4 Here to the houseless child of want 
 
 My door is open still ; 
 And though my portion is but scant, 
 
 I give it with good will. 
 
 4 Then turn to-night, and freely share 
 Whate'er my cell bestows ; 
 
 My rushy couch and frugal fare, 
 My blessing and repose. 
 
 4 No flocks, that range the valley free, 
 To slaughter I condemn ; 
 
 Taught by that power that pities me, 
 I learn to pity them : 
 
 ' But from the mountain's grassy aide 
 
 A guiltless feast T bring ; 
 A scrip with herbs and fruits supplied, 
 
 And water from the spring. 
 
 ' Then, pilgrim, turn, thy cares forego ; 
 
 All earth-born cares are wrong : 
 Man wants but little here below, 
 
 Nor wants that little long.' 
 
 Soft as the dew from heaven descends, 
 
 His gentle accents fell : 
 The modest stranger lowly bends, 
 
 And follows to the cell. 
 
 Far in a wilderness obscure 
 The lonely mansion lay ; 
 
 A refuge to the neighbouring poor, 
 And strangers led astray. 
 
 No stores beneath its humble thatcb 
 Required a master's care ; 
 
 The wicket, opening with a latch, 
 Received the harmless pair. 
 
 And now, when busy crowds retire 
 To take their evening rest, 
 
 The Hermit trimmed his little fire, 
 And cheered his pensive guest; 
 
856 
 
 THE HERMIT. 
 
 And spread his vegetable store, 
 
 And gayly pressed and smiled ; 
 
 And, skilled in legendary lore, 
 
 The lingering hours beguiled. 
 
 Around in sympathetic mirth, 
 
 Its tricks the kitten tries ; 
 The cricket chirrups in the hearth , 
 
 The crackling faggot flies. 
 
 But nothing could a charm impart 
 To sooth the stranger's woe ; 
 
 For grief was heavy at his heart, 
 And tears began to flow. 
 
 His rising cares the Hermit spied, 
 With answering care opprest : 
 
 ' And whence, unhappy youth ." he cried, 
 ' The sorrows of thy breast ? 
 
 ' From better habitations spurned, 
 
 Reluctant dost thou rove : 
 Or grieve for friendship unreturned, 
 
 Or unregarded love ? 
 
 1 Alas ! the joys that fortune brings, 
 
 Are trifling, and decay ; 
 And those who prize the paltry things, 
 
 More trifling still than they. 
 
 ' And what is friendship but a name, 
 
 A charm that lulls to sleep ; 
 A shade that follows wealth or fame, 
 
 And leaves the wretch to weep ? 
 
 ' And love is still an emptier sound, 
 
 The modern fair-one's jest; 
 On earth unseen, or only found 
 
 To warm the turtle's nest. 
 
 4 For shame, fond youth ! thy sorrows hush, 
 And spurn the sex !' he said : 
 
 But while he spoke, a rising blush 
 His love-lorn guest betrayed. 
 
 Surprised he sees new beauties rise, 
 
 Swift mantling to the view, 
 Like colours o'er the morning skies, 
 
 As bright, as transient too. 
 
 The bashful look, the rising breast, 
 Alternate spread alarms : 
 
 The lovely stranger stands confest 
 A maid, in all her charms. 
 
 ' And, ah, forgive a stranger rude, 
 A wretch forlorn,' she cried ; 
 
 ' Whose feet unhallowed thus intrude 
 Where heaven and you reside ! 
 
 ' But let a maid thy pity share, 
 
 Whom love has taught to stray ; 
 
 Who seeks for rest, but finds despair 
 Companion of her way. 
 
 ' My father lived beside the Tyne, 
 
 A wealthy lord was he ; 
 And all his wealth was marked as mine, 
 
 He had but only me. 
 
 ' To win me from his tender arms, 
 Unnumbered suitors came ; 
 
 Who praised me for imputed charms, 
 And felt, or feigned a flame. 
 
 ' Each hour a mercenary crowd 
 With richest proffers slrove : 
 
 Among the rest young Edwin bowed, 
 But never talked of love. 
 
 ' In humble, simplest habit clad, 
 No wealth or power had he : 
 
 Wisdom and worth were all he had, 
 But these were all to me. 
 
 ' The blossom opening to the day, 
 The dews of heaven refined, 
 
 Could nought of purity display, 
 To emulate his mind. 
 
 ' The dew, the blossoms of the tree, 
 With charms inconstant shine ; 
 
 Their charms were his, but, woe to me I 
 Their constancy was mine. 
 
 ' For still I tried each fickle art, 
 
 Importunate and vain ; 
 And while his passion touched my heart, 
 
 I triumphed in his pain : 
 
THE HERMIT. 
 
 857 
 
 1 Till, quite dejected with my scorn, 
 He left me to my pride ; 
 
 And sought a solitude forlorn 
 In secret, where he died. 
 
 But mine the sorrow, mine the fault, 
 
 And well my life shall pay ; 
 I'll seek the solitude he sought, 
 And stretch me where he lay. 
 
 ' And there forlorn despairing hid, 
 I'll lay me down and die: 
 
 : Twas so for me that Edwin did, 
 And so for him will I.' 
 
 ' Forbid it, heaven !' the Hermit cried, 
 And clasped her to his breast ; 
 
 The wondering fair one turned to chide : 
 'Twas Edwin's self that prest. 
 
 ' Turn, Angelina, ever dear, 
 
 My charmer, turn to see 
 Thy own, thy long-lost Edwin here, 
 
 Restored to love and thee. 
 
 ' Thus let me hold thee to my heart, 
 
 And every care resign 
 And shall we never, never part, 
 
 My life my all that's mine ! 
 
 ' No, never, from this hour to part ; 
 
 We'll live and love so true, 
 The sigh that rends thy constant heart, 
 
 Shall break thy Edwin's too.' 
 
THE 
 
 IN IMITATION OF DEAN SWIFT. 
 
 LOGICIAKS have but ill defin'd 
 
 As rational the human mind : 
 
 Reason, they say, belongs to man, 
 
 But let them prove it if they can. 
 
 Wise Aristotle and Smiglesius, 
 
 By Ratiocinations specious, 
 
 Have strove to prove with great precision, 
 
 With difinition and division, 
 
 Homo est rat tone preditum ; 
 
 But for my soul I cannot credit 'eni ; 
 
 And must in spite of them maintain, 
 
 That man and all his ways are vain ; 
 
 And that this boasted lord of nature ; 
 
 Is both a weak and erring creature. 
 
 That instinct is a surer guide, 
 
 Than reason-boasting mortals' pride ; 
 
 And that brute beasts are far before 'em, 
 
 Deus est anima brutorum. 
 
 Whoever knew an honest brute, 
 
 At law his neighbour prosecute, 
 
 Bring action for assault and battery, 
 
 Or friend beguile with lies and flattery ? 
 
 O'er plains they ramble unconfin'd, 
 
 No politics disturb their mind ; 
 
 They eat their meals, and take their sport, 
 
 Nor know who's in or out at court : 
 
 They never to the levee go 
 
 To treat as dearest friend, a foe : 
 
 They never importune his grace, 
 
 Nor ever cringe to men in place ; 
 Nor undertake a dirty job, 
 Nor draw the quill to write for Bob. 
 Fraught with invective, they ne'er go 
 To folks at Pater-noster-Row : 
 No judges, fiddlers, dancing masters, 
 No pick-pockets, or poetasters, 
 Are known to honest' quadrupeds; 
 No single brute his fellow leads. 
 Brutes never meet in bloody fray, 
 Nor cut each other's throat for pay. 
 Of beasts, it is confess'd, the ape 
 Comes nearest us in human shape ; 
 Like man he imitates each fashion, 
 And malice is his ruling passion : 
 But both in malice and grimaces, 
 A courtier any ape surpasses. 
 Behold him humbly cringing wait 
 Upon the minister of state : 
 View him soon after to inferiors 
 Aping the conduct of superiors : 
 He promises with equal air, 
 And to perform takes equal care. 
 He in his turn finds imitators ; 
 At court, the porters, lackeys, waiters, 
 Their master's manners still contract, 
 And footmen lords and dukes can act. 
 Thus at the court, both great and small, 
 Behave alike, for all ape all. 
 
ESSAYS. 
 
 ESSAY I. 
 
 J- HERE are some acquaintances whom it 
 is no easy matter to shake off My little beau 
 yesterday overtook me again in one of the 
 public walks, and slapping me on the shoul- 
 der, saluted me with an air of the most per- 
 fect familiarity. His dress was the same as 
 usual, except that he had more powder in his 
 hair, wore a dirtier shirt, and had on a pair 
 of temple spectacles, with his hat under his 
 arm. 
 
 As I knew him to be an harmless amusing 
 little thing, I could not return his smiles with 
 any degree of severity; so we walked for- 
 ward on terms of the utmost intimacy, and in 
 a few minutes discussed all the usual topics 
 of a general conversation. 
 
 The oddities that marked his character, 
 however, soon began to appear : he bowed to 
 several well-dressed persons, who, by their 
 manner of returning the compliment, appear- 
 ed perfect strangers. At intervals he drew 
 out a pocket-book, seeming to take memo- 
 randums before all the company, with much 
 importance and assiduity. In this manner he 
 led me through the length of the whole Mall, 
 fretting at his absurdities, and fancying my- 
 self laughed at, as well as he, by every spec- 
 tator. 
 
 When we were got to the end of our 
 procession, he cried, with an air of vivacity, 
 ' I never saw the Park so thin in my life be- 
 fore ; there's no company at all to-day. Not 
 a single face to be seen.' 'No company!' 
 interrupted I, peevishly ; ' no company, 
 where there is such a crowd ! Why, man, 
 there is too much. What are the thousands 
 that have been laughing at us but company !' 
 'Lord, my dear,' returned he, with the utmost 
 No. 73 & 74. 
 
 good humour, 'you seem immensely cha- 
 grined ; when the world laughs at me, I laugh 
 at the world, and so we are even. My lord 
 Trip, Bill Squash the Creolian, and I, some- 
 times make a party at being ridiculous. But 
 I see you are grave ; so if you are for a fine 
 grave sentimental companion, you shall dine 
 with my wife; I must insist on't; I'll intro- 
 duce you to Mrs. Tibbs, a lady of as elegant 
 qualifications as any in nature ; she was bred, 
 but that's between ourselves, under the in- 
 spection of the countess of Shoreditch. A 
 charming body of voice ! But no more of that, 
 she shall, give us a song. You shall see my 
 little girl too, Carolina Wilhelmina Amelia 
 Tibbs, a sweet pretty creature ! I design her 
 for my lord Drumstick's eldest son; but that's 
 in friendship, let it go no farther; she's but 
 six years old, and yet she walks a minuet 
 and plays on the guittar immensely al- 
 ready. I intend she shall be as perfect as 
 possible in every accomplishment. In the 
 first place, I'll make her a scholar; I'll teach 
 her Greek myself, and I intend to learn that 
 language purposely to instruct her; but let 
 that be a secret.' 
 
 Thus saying, without waiting for a reply, 
 he took me by the arm, and hauled me along. 
 We passed through many dark alleys and 
 winding ways. From some motives to me 
 unknown, he seemed to have a particular 
 aversion to every frequented street ; but, at 
 last, we got to the door of a dismal looking 
 house in the outlets of the town, where he 
 informed me he chose to reside for the bene- 
 fit of the air. 
 
 We entered the lower door, which seemed 
 ever to lie most hospitably open ; and began 
 6C 
 
800 
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 to ascend an old and creaking staircase ; 
 when, as he mounted to show me the way, 
 he demanded, whether I delighted in pros- 
 pects ; to which, answering in the affirmative, 
 
 * Then,' says he, ' I shall show you one of the 
 most charming out of my windows, for I live 
 at the top of the house; we shall seethe ships 
 sailing, and the whole country twenty miles 
 round, tip top, quite high. My lord Swamp 
 Would give ten thousand guineas for such a 
 one ; but, as I sometimes pleasantly tell him, 
 I always love to keep my prospects at home, 
 that my friends may come to see me the 
 oftener.' 
 
 By this time we were arrived as high as 
 the stairs would permit us to ascend, till we 
 came to what he was facetiously pleased to 
 call the first floor down the chimney; and 
 knocking at the door, a voice, with a Scotch 
 accent,from within, demanded, ' Wha's there.' 
 My conductor answered, that it was him. 
 But this not satisfying the querist, the voice 
 again repeated the demand ; to which he 
 answered louder than before, and now the 
 door was opened by an old maid-servant, with 
 cautious reluctance. 
 
 When we were got in, he welcomed me to 
 his house with great ceremony, and turning 
 to the old woman, asked where her lady was. 
 
 * Good troth,' replied she in the northern 
 dialect, 'she's washing your twa shirts at the 
 next dobr, because they have taken an oath 
 against lending out the tub any longer.' 'My 
 two shirt!?!' cried he, in a tone that faltered 
 willj confusion, ' what docs the idiot mean?' 
 ' ! ken what I mean well enough,' replied the 
 other, she's washing your twa shirts at the 
 next door, because' ' Fire and fury, no more 
 of thy stupid explanations,' cried he. 'Go 
 and inform her we have got company. Were 
 that Scotch hag,' continued he. turning to me, 
 1 to be for ever in my family, she would never 
 learn politeness, nor forget that absurd poi- 
 sonom accent of her's, or testify the smallest 
 specimen of breeding or high-life ; and yet it 
 is very surprising too, as 1 had her from a par- 
 liament-man, a friend of mine from the High- 
 lands, one of the politest men in the world ; 
 but that's a secret. 
 
 We waited sorne time for Mrs. Tibb's arri- 
 val, during which interval I had a full oppor- 
 tunity of surveying the chamber and all its 
 
 furniture ; which consisted of four chairs with 
 old wrought bottoms, that he assured me 
 were his wife's embroidery ; a square table 
 that had been once japanned, a cradle in one 
 corner, a lumbering cabinet in the other ; a 
 broken shepherdess,and a mandarine without 
 a head, were stuck over the chimney; and 
 round the wall several paltry, unframed pic- 
 tures, which he observed were all his own 
 drawing: 'What do you think, Sir, of that 
 head in the corner, done in the manner of 
 Grisoni ? There's the true keeping in it; it's 
 my own face; and, though there happens to 
 be no likeness, a countess offered me a hun- 
 dred for its fellow : I refused her, for hang it. 
 that would be mechanical you know.' 
 
 The wife, at last, made her appearance; 
 at once a slattern and a coquet; much ema- 
 ciated, but still carrying the remains of beau- 
 ty. She made twenty apologies for being 
 seen in such an odious dishabille, but hoped 
 to be excused, as she had staid out all night 
 at Vauxhall Gardens with the countess, who 
 was excessively fond of the horns. ' And in- 
 deed, my dear,' added she, turning to her 
 husband, 'his lordship drank your health in 
 a bumper.' 'Poor Jack,' cries he. 'a dear 
 good natured creature, J know he loves me; 
 but 1 hope, my dear, you have given orders 
 for dinner; you need make no great prepa- 
 ration neither, there are but rhree of us; 
 something elegant, and a little will do; a 
 turbot, an ortolan, or a-r ' 'Or what do you 
 think, my dear,' interrupts the wife, 'of a 
 nice pretty bit of ox-cheek piping hot, and 
 dressed with a little ofmy own sauce?' 'Tl:e 
 very thing,' replies he: 'it will eat best with 
 some smart bottled beer; but be sure to let's 
 have the sauce his grace was HO fond of. 1 
 hate your immense loads of meat; that is 
 country all over: extreme disgusting to those 
 who are in t hp least acquainted with high- lite.' 
 
 By this time mv curiosity began to abate, 
 and my appetite -to increase; the compaiy 
 of fools may at first make us smile, but at 
 last never tails of rendering us melancholy. 
 1 therefore pretended to recollect ;i prior < n- 
 gngoment, mid. after having shown my respect 
 to the house, by giving the old servant a 
 piece of money at the door, I took mv leave; 
 Mrs. Tibbs assuring me, that dinner, if'I nlajd, 
 would be read^ at least in less than two hours. 
 
ESSAYS. 
 
 ESSAY 11. 
 
 AGE, that lessens the enjoyment of life, 
 increases our desire of living. Tliose dan- 
 gers which, in the vigour of youth, we had 
 learned to despise, assume new terrors as we 
 trow old. Our caution increasing as our 
 years increase, fear becomes at last the pre- 
 vailing passion of the mind ; and the small 
 remainder of lite is taken up in useless efforts 
 to keep off our end, or provide fora continu- 
 ed existence. 
 
 Strange contradiction in our nature, and to 
 which even the wise are liable! If 'I should 
 judge of that part of life which lies before me 
 bv that which I have already seen, the pros- 
 pect is hideous. Experience tells me, that 
 my past enjoyments have brought no real fe- 
 licity ; and sensation assures me, that those 
 1 have felt are stronger than those which are 
 yet to come. Yet experience and sensation 
 in vain persuade ; hope, more powerful than 
 either, dresses out the distant prospect in 
 fancied beauty; some happiness, in long per- 
 spective, still beckons me to pursue ; and, 
 like a losing gamester, every new disap- 
 pointment increases my ardour to continue 
 the game. 
 
 Whence then is this increased love of life, 
 which grows upon us with our years; whence 
 comes it, that we thus make greater efforts to 
 preserve our existence, at a period when it 
 becomes scarce worth keeping? Is it that 
 nature, attentive to the preservation of man- 
 kind, increases our wishes to live, while she 
 lessens our enjoyments; and, as she robs the 
 senses of every pleasure, equips imagination 
 in the spoils ? Life would be insupportable 
 to an old man, who, loaded with infirmities, 
 feared death no more than when in the vigour 
 of manhood ; the numberless calamities of 
 decaying nature; and the consciousness of 
 surviving every pleasure, would at once in- 
 duce him, with his own hand, to terminate 
 the scene of misery; but happily tiie con- 
 
 tempt of death forsakes him at a time when it 
 could only be prejudicial; and life requires 
 an imaginary value, in proportion as its real 
 value is no more. 
 
 Our attachment to every object around us 
 increases, in general, from the length of our 
 acquaintance with it. ' 1 would not choose,' 
 says a French philosopher, ' to see an old 
 post pulled up with which I had been long 
 acquainted.' A mind long habituated to a 
 certain set of objects, insensibly becomes 
 fond of seeing them ; visits them from habit, 
 and parts from them with reluctance : from 
 hence proceeds the avarice of the old in 
 every kind of possession; they love the world 
 and all that it produces; they love life and 
 all its advantages; not because it gives them 
 pleasure, but because they have known it 
 long. 
 
 Chinvang the Chaste, ascending the throne 
 of China, commanded that all who were un- 
 justly detained in prison, during the preced- 
 ing reigns, should be set free. Among the 
 number who came to thank their deliverer 
 on this occasion, there appeared a majestic 
 old man, who, falling at the emperor's feet, 
 addressed him as follows: 'Great father of 
 China, behold a wretch, now eighty-five years 
 old, who was shut up in a dungeon at the age 
 of twenty-two. I was imprisoned, though a 
 stranger to crime, or without being even con- 
 fronted by my accusers. I have now lived in 
 I solitudeand darkness for more than fifty years, 
 ! and am grown familiar with distress. As yet 
 j dazzled with the splendour of that sun to 
 which you have restored me, I have been 
 wandering the streets to find out some inentf 
 that would assist, or relieve, or remember me; 
 but my friends, my family, and relations, arc 
 all dead, and I am forgotten. Permit me 
 then, O Chinvang, to wear out the wretched 
 remains of my life in former prison ; the walls 
 of iuy dungeon are to me more pleasing than 
 6 C* 
 
862 
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 the most splendid palace : I have not long to 
 live, and shall be unhappy except I spend the 
 rest of my days where my youth was passed, 
 in that prison' from whence you were pleased 
 to release me. 
 
 The old man's passion for confinement is 
 similar to that we all have for life. We are 
 habituated to the prison, we look round with 
 discontent, are displeased with the abode, 
 and yet the length of our captivity only in- 
 creases our fondness for the cell. The trees 
 we have planted, the houses we have built, 
 or the posterity we have begotten, all serve 
 to bind us closer to the earth, and embitter 
 our parting. Life sues the young like a new 
 acquaintance ; the companion, as yet unex- 
 hausted, is at once instructive and amusing; 
 its company pleases, yet, for all this, it is but 
 little regarded. To us, who are declined in 
 years, life appears like an old friend ; its jests 
 have been anticipated in former conversation : 
 it has no new story to make us smile, no new 
 improvement with which to surprise, yet still 
 we love it; destitute of every enjoyment, still 
 we love it; husband the wasting treasure 
 with increasing frugality, and feel all the 
 poignancy of anguish in the fatal separation. 
 
 Sir Philip Mordaunt was young, beautiful, 
 sincere, brave, an Englishman. He had a 
 complete fortune of his own and the love of 
 the king his master, which was equivalent to 
 riches. Life opened all her treasures before 
 him, and promised a long succession of hap- 
 piness. He came, tasted of the entertain- 
 ment, but was disgusted even at the begin- 
 ning. He professed an aversion to living; 
 was tired of walking round the same circle; 
 Imd tried every enjoyment, and found them 
 all grow weaker at every repetition. ' If life 
 be in youth so displeasing,' cried he to him- 
 self, 'what will it appear when age comes on; 
 if it be at present indifferent, sure it will then 
 be execrable.' This thought embittered 
 every reflection ; till, at last, with all the 
 serenity of perverted reason, he ended the 
 debate with a pistol. Had this self-deluded 
 man been apprized, that existence grows 
 more desirable to us the longer we exist, he 
 would have then faced old age without 
 shrinking! he would have boldly dared to 
 live ; and served that society, by his future 
 assiduity, which he basely injured by his de- 
 sertion. 
 
 ESSAY 111. 
 THE STORY OF ALCANDER AND SEPTIMIUS. 
 
 ATHENS, long after the decline of the Ro- 
 man empire, still continued the seat of learn- 
 ing, politeness, and wisdom. Theodoric, the 
 Ostrogoth, repaired the schools which bar- 
 barity was suffering to fall into decay, and 
 continued those pensions to men of learning, 
 which avaricious governors had monopoliz- 
 ed. 
 
 In this city, and about this period, Alcan- 
 <Jer and Septimius were fellow-students to- 
 gether. The one, the most subtle reasoner 
 of all the Lyceum ; the other, the most elo- 
 quent speaker in the academic grove. Mu- 
 tual admiration soon begot a friendship. 
 Their fortunes were nearly equal, and they 
 were natives of the most celebrated cities in 
 
 the world ; for Alcander was of Athens, Sep- 
 timius came from Rome. 
 
 In this state of harmony they lived for some 
 time together, w hen Alcander, after passing 
 the first part of his youth in the indolence of 
 philosophy, thought at length of entering into 
 the busy world ; and, as a step previous to 
 this, placed his affections on Hypatia, a lady 
 of exquisite beauty. The day of their intend- 
 ed nuptials were fixed; the previous cere- 
 monies were performed ; and nothing now re- 
 mained but her being conducted in triumph 
 to the apartment of the intended bridegroom. 
 
 Alcander's exultation in his own happiness, 
 or being unable to enjoy any satisfaction 
 without making his friend Sentiuuius a partner, 
 
ESSAYS. 
 
 803 
 
 prevailed upon him to introduce Hypatia to 
 his fellow-student; winch he did with all the 
 gayety of a man who found himself equally 
 happy in friendship and love. But this was 
 an interview fatal to the future peace of both: 
 for Septimius no sooner saw her, but he was 
 smitten with an involuntary passion ; and, 
 though he used every effort to suppress de- 
 sires at once so imprudent and unjust, the 
 emotions of his mind in a short time became 
 so strong, that they brought on a fever, which 
 the physicians judged incurable. 
 
 During this illness, Alcander watched him 
 with all the anxiety of fondness, and brought 
 his mistress to join in those amiable offices of 
 friendship. The sagacity of the physicians, 
 by these means, soon discovered that the 
 cause of their patient's disorder was love ; 
 and Alcander being apprized of their dis- 
 coverv, at length extorted a confession from 
 the reluctant dying lover. 
 
 It would but delay the narrative to de- 
 scribe the conilict between love and friend- 
 ship in the breast of Alcander on this occa- 
 sion ; it is enough to say, that the Athenians 
 were at that time arrived at such refinement 
 in morals, that every virtue was carried to 
 excess. In short, forgetful of his own felicity, 
 he gave up his intended bride, in all her 
 charms, to the young Roman. They were 
 married privately by his connivance, and this 
 unlocked for change of fortune wrought as 
 unexpected a change in the constitution of 
 the now happy Septimjus, In a few days he 
 was perfectly recovered, and set out with his 
 fair partner for Rome. Here, by an exertion 
 of those talents which he was so eminently 
 possessed of, Septimius in a few years arrived 
 at the highest dignities of the state, and was 
 constituted the city-judge or praetor. 
 
 In the mean time Alcander not only felt 
 the pain of being separated from his friend 
 and his mistress, but a prosecution was also 
 commenced against him by the relations of 
 Hypatia, for having basely given up his bride, 
 as was suggested, for money. Hi& innocence 
 of the crime laid to his charge, and even his 
 eloquence irj his own defence, were not able 
 to withstand the influence of a powerful parly. 
 He was cast and condemned to pay an 
 enormous fine. However, being unable to 
 raise so large a sum at the time appointed, 
 
 his possessions were confiscated, he himself 
 was stripped of the habit of freedom, exposed 
 as a slave in the market-place, and sold to 
 the highest bidder. 
 
 A merchant of Thrace becoming his pur- 
 chaser, Alcander, with some other compa- 
 nions of distress, was carried into that region 
 of desolation and sterility. His stated em- 
 ployment was to follow the herds of an impe- 
 rious master, and his success in hunting was, 
 all that was allowed him to supply his pre- 
 carious subsistence. Every morning waked 
 him to a renewal of famine or toil, and everv 
 change of season served hut to aggravate his 
 unsheltered distress. After some years of 
 bondage, however, an opportunity of escap- 
 ing offered; he embraced it with ardour; so 
 that travelling by night, andlodgingin caverns 
 by day, to shorten a long story, he at last ar- 
 rived in Rome. The same day on which 
 Alcander arrived, Septimius sate administer- 
 ing justice in the forum, whither our wanderer 
 came, expecting to be instantly known, and 
 publicly acknowledged, by his former friend. 
 Here he stood the whole day among the 
 crowd, watching the eyes of the judge, and 
 expecting to be taken notice of; but he was 
 so much altered by a long succession of hard- 
 ships, that he continued unnoted among the 
 rest ; and in the evening, when he was going 
 up to the praetor's chair, he was brutally re- 
 pulsed by the attending lictors. The atten- 
 tion of the poor is generally driven from one 
 ungrateful object to another; for night coming 
 on, he now found himself under a necessity 
 of seeking a place to lie in, and yet knew not 
 where to apply. All emaciated, and in rags 
 as he was, none of the citizens would harbour 
 so much wretchedness; and sleeping in the 
 streets might be attended with interruption 
 and danger: in short, he was obliged to take 
 up his lodging in one of the tombs without 
 the city, the usual retreat of guilt, poverty, 
 and despair. In this mansion of horror, lay. 
 ing his head upon an inverted urn, he forgot 
 his miseries for awhile in sleep: and found, 
 on his flinty couch, more ease than beds of 
 down can supply to the guilly. 
 
 As he continued here, about midnight, two 
 robbers came to make this their retreat; but 
 happening to disagree aLout the division ot* 
 their plunder, one of them stabbed the other 
 
864 
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 to the heart, and left him weltering in his Wood 
 at the entrance. In these circumstances he 
 was found next morning dead at the month of 
 vlie vault. This naturally inducing a further 
 inrv/irv, an a!. inn was spread ; the cave was 
 examined ; and Alcander being found, WHS 
 'rnmediatelv apprehended and accused of 
 robbery and murder. The circumstances 
 against him were strong, and the wietchednrss 
 of his appearance confirmed suspicion. Mis- 
 fortune and he were now so long acquainted, 
 that he at last became regardless of life. He 
 detested a world where he had found only in- 
 gratitude, falsehood, and cruelty ; he was de- 
 termined to make no defence ; and thus lower- 
 ing with resolution, he was dragged, bound 
 with cords, before the tribunal of Septimius. 
 As the proofs were positive against him, and 
 he offered nothing in his own vindication, the 
 judge was proceeding to doom him to a most 
 "cruel and ignominious death, when the atten- 
 tion of the multitude was soon divided by 
 
 another object. The robber, \vl:o had been 
 really gi'il'y, was apprehended selling his 
 plunder, and, struck \\ith a pai.ic, had c<,n- 
 fessed his crime. He was brought bom .d to 
 the same tribunal, and acquitted every other 
 person of any partnership in his guilt. Al- 
 cander's innocence therefore apptsmd, but 
 the snll< n rashness of his conduct nn-fiirrd 
 a wonder to the surrounding multitude ; but 
 their astonishment was still further inert ased, 
 when they saw their judge start from his tri- 
 bunal to embrace the supposed criminal : Sep- 
 timius recollected his friend and former bene- 
 factor, and hnng upon his neck with tears of 
 pity and joy. Need the sequel be related ; 
 Alcander was acquitted ; shared the friendship 
 and honours of the principal citizens of Rome ; 
 lived afterwards in happiness and ease ; and 
 left it to be engraved on his tomb, That no 
 circumstances are so desperate, which Provi- 
 dence may not relieve. 
 
 ESSAY IV. 
 
 WHEN I reflect on the unambitious retire- 
 ment in which I passed the earlier part of my 
 life in the country, I cannot avoid feeling some 
 pain in thinking that those happy days are 
 never to return. In that retreat all nature 
 seemed capable of affording pleasure ; 1 then 
 made no refinements on happiness, but could 
 be pleased with the most awkward efforts to 
 rustic mirth ; thought cross-purposes the high- 
 est stretch of human wit ; and questions and 
 commands the most rational way of spend- 
 ing the evening. Happy could so charming 
 an illusion still continue! I find that age 
 and knowledge only contribute to sour our 
 dispositions. My present enjoyments may 
 be more refined, but they are infinitely less 
 pleasing. The pleasure the best actor gives, 
 can no way compare to that I have re- 
 ceived from a country wag who imitated a 
 quaker's sermon. The music of the finest 
 singer is dissonance to what I felt when our 
 old dairy-maid sung me into tears with John- 
 ny Armstrong's Last good night, or the Cru- 
 elty of Barbara Allen. 
 
 Writers of every age have endeavoured to 
 show that pleasure is in us, and not in the ob- 
 jects offered for our amusement. If the soul 
 be happily disposed, every thing becomes ca- 
 pable of affording entertainment ; and distress 
 will always want a name. Every occurrence 
 passes in review like the figures of a proces- 
 sion ; some may be awkward, others ill dress- 
 ed ; but none but a fool is for this enraged 
 with the master of the ceremonies. 
 
 I remember to have once seen a slave in a 
 fortification in Flanders, who appeared no 
 way touched with his situation. He was 
 maimed, deformed, and chained ; obliged to 
 toil from the appearance of day till night-fall, 
 and condemned to this for life: yet with all 
 these circumstances of apparent wretchedness, 
 he sung, would have danced, but that he want- 
 ed a leg, and appeared the merriest, happiest 
 man of all the garrison. What a practical 
 philosopher was here ; an happy constitution 
 supplied philosophy ; and though seemingly 
 destitute of wisdom, he was really wise. No 
 reading or study had contributed to disenchant 
 
ESSAYS. 
 
 the fairy-land around him. Every thing fur- 
 nished him with an opportunity of mirth ; and 
 though some thought him, from his insensibili- 
 ty, a fool, he was such an Hiot as philosophers 
 should wish to imitate ; for al! philosophy is 
 only forcing the trade of happiness, when na- 
 ture seems to deny the means. 
 
 They who, like our slaves, can place them- 
 selves on that side of the world in which every 
 thing appears in a pleasing light, will find 
 something in every occurrence to excite their 
 good humour-. The most calamitous events, 
 either to themselves or others, can bring no 
 new affliction ! the whole world i* to them a 
 theatre, on which comedies only are acted. 
 All the bustle of heroism, or the rants of am- 
 bition, serve only to heighten the absurdity of 
 the scene, and make the humour more poig- 
 nant. They feel, in short, as little anguish at 
 their own distress, or the complaints of others, 
 as the undertaker, though dressed in black, 
 feels sorrow at a funeral. 
 
 Of all the men 1 ever read of, the famous 
 cardinal de lleiz possessed this happiness of 
 temper in the highest degree. A-* he was a 
 man of gallantry, and despised all that wore 
 the pedantic appearance of philosophy, where- 
 ever pleasure was to be sold, he was generally 
 foremost to raise the auction. Being an uni- 
 versal admirer of the fair sex, when he found 
 one lady cruel, he generally fell in love with 
 another, from who.n he expected a more fa- 
 vourable reception : if she too rejected his ad- 
 dresses, he never thought of retiring into de- 
 sarts, or pining in hopeless distress. He per- 
 suaded hi nsflf, that, instead of loving the lady, 
 he only fancied that he had loved her, and so 
 all was well again. When fortune wore her 
 angriest look, lie at last fell into the power of 
 his most deadly enemy, cardinal Mazarine, 
 (being confined a close prisoner in the castle 
 of V ilencieiM *,) he never attempted to snp- 
 p >rr his di>jtre-*s by wisdom or philosophy, for 
 he pretended to neither. He only laughed at 
 himself and his persecutor, and seemed infinite- 
 ly pleased at his new situation. In this man- 
 sion of distress, though secluded from his friends, 
 though denied all the amusements, and even 
 the conveniences of life, he still retained his 
 go,) ! humour ; laughed at all the little spite of 
 his enemies ; and carried the j;:st *o far, as to 
 be revenged, by writing the life of his gaoler. 
 
 All that the w isdom of the proud can teach, 
 
 is to be stubborn or sullen under misfortunes. 
 The cardinal's example will instruct us to be 
 merry in circumstances of the highest afflic- 
 tion. It matters not whether our good humour 
 be construed by others into insensibility, or 
 even idiotism ; it is happiness to ourselves, and 
 none but a fool would measure his satisfaction 
 by what the world thinks of it ; for my own 
 part, I never pass by one of our prisons for 
 debt, that I do not envy that felicity which is 
 still going forward among those people who 
 forget the cares of the world by being shut out 
 from its ambition. 
 
 The happiest silly fellow I ever knew, was 
 of the number of these good-natured creatures 
 that are said to do no harm to any but them- 
 selves. Whenever he fell into any misery, he 
 usually called it, Seeing Life. If liis head was 
 hroke by a chairman, or his pocket picker) by 
 a sharper, he comforted himself by imitating 
 the Hibernian dialect of the one, or the more 
 fashionable cant of the other. Nothing came 
 amiss to him. His inattention to money mat- 
 ters had incensed his father to such a degree, 
 that all the intercession (if his friends in his fa- 
 vour was fruitless. The old gentleman was 
 on his death-bed. The whole family, and 
 Dick among the number, gathered around 
 him, ' I leave my second son, Andrew,' said 
 the expiring miser, ' my whole estate, and de- 
 ' sire him to be frugal.' Andrew, in a sorrow- 
 ful tone, as is usual on these occasions, prayed 
 Heaven to prolong his life and health to enjoy 
 it himself. ' 1 recommend Simon, n;\ third 
 ' son, to the care of his elder brother, and !e; -\ 
 ' him beside four thousand pounds.' ' Ah ! 
 ' father,' cried Simon, (in great affliction to be 
 sure) * May heaven give you life and health 
 ' to enjoy it yourself,' At last, turning to poor 
 Dick, ' As for you, you have always been a sad 
 ' dog ; you'll never come to good ; you'll neve r 
 ' be rich ; I'll leave you a shilling to buy a l.ul- 
 ' ter.' ' All ! father,' cries Dick, \\itht-ut uny 
 emotion, ' may Heaven give you life aiiu htyhh 
 ' lo enjoy it yourself.' This was ;.!! ilie trouble 
 the loss of fortune gave this thoughtless im- 
 prudent creature. However, the tenderness 
 of an uncle recompensed the neglect of a 
 father; and my friend is now not only ex- 
 cessively good humoured, but competently 
 rich. 
 
 Yes, let the world cry out at n bankrupt who 
 appears at a ball ; at an author n ho laughs at 
 
86(5 
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 the public, which pronounces him a dunce; at 
 a general who smiles at the reproach of the 
 vulgar, or the lady who keeps her good- 
 humour in spite of scandal; but such is the 
 wisest behaviour that any of us can possibly 
 assume ; it is certainly a better way to op- 
 pose calamity by dissipation, than to take up 
 
 the arms of reason or resolution to oppose 
 it : by the first method, we forget our mise- 
 ries ; by the last, we only conceal them from 
 others ; by struggling with misfortunes, we 
 are sure to receive some wounds in the con- 
 flict; but a sure method to come off victori- 
 ous, is by running away. 
 
 ESSAY V. 
 
 I AM fond of amusement in whatever com- 
 pany it is to be found; and wit, though dress- 
 
 ed in rags, is ever 
 
 to me. I went 
 
 some days ago to take a walk in St. James's 
 Park, about the hour in which company leave 
 it to go to dinner. There were but few in 
 the walks, and those who stayed, seemed by 
 their looks rather more willing to forget that 
 they had an appetite than gain one. I sat 
 down on one of the benches, at the other 
 end of which was seated a man in very shab- 
 by clothes. 
 
 We continued to groan, to hem, and to 
 cough, as usual upon such occasions; and, 
 at last, ventured upon conversation. ' I beg 
 pardon, sir,' cried I, ' but I think I have seen 
 you before; your face is familiar to me.' 
 ' Yes, sir,' replied he, ' I have a good familiar 
 face, as my friends tell me. I am as well 
 known in every town in England as the dro- 
 medary, or live crocodile. You must under- 
 stand, sir, that I have been these sixteen 
 years Merry Andrew to a puppet-show; last 
 Bartholomew fair my master and 1 quarrelled, 
 beat each other, and parted ; he to sell his 
 puppets to the pincushion-maker in Rose- 
 mary-lane, and I to starve in St. James's 
 Park. 
 
 ' I am sorry, sir, that a person of your ap- 
 pearance should labour under any difficulties.' 
 * O, sir,' returned he, ' my appearance is very 
 much at your service; but though I cannot 
 boast of eating much, yet there are few that 
 are merrier: if I had twenty thousand a year 
 I should be very merry ; and, thank the fates, 
 though not worth a groat, I am very merry 
 still. If I have three-pence in my pocket, I 
 never refuse to be my three-half-pence ; and, 
 
 if I have no money, I never scorn to be treat- 
 ed by any that are kind enough to pay my 
 reckoning. What think you, sir, of a steak 
 and a tankard ? You shall treat me now, and 
 I will treat you again when I find you in the 
 Park in love with eating, and without money 
 to pay for a dinner. 
 
 As I never refuse a small expense for the 
 sake of a merry companion, we instantly ad- 
 journed to a neighbouring alehouse, and, in 
 a few moments, had a frothing tankard, and 
 a smoking steak spread on the table before 
 us. It is impossible to express how much the 
 sight of such good cheer improved my com- 
 panion's vivacity. 'I like this dinner, sir,' 
 says he, 'for three reasons; first, because I 
 am naturally fond of beef; secondly, because- 
 I am hungry ; and, thirdly and lastly, because 
 I get it for nothing: no meat eats so sweet as 
 that for which we do not pay.' 
 
 He therefore now fell to, and his appetite 
 seemed to correspond with his inclination. 
 After dinner was over, he observed, that the 
 steak was tough : * and yet, sir,' returns he, 
 ' bad as it was, it seemed a rump-steak tome. 
 O the delights of poverty and a good appetite! 
 We beggars are the very fondlings of nature ; 
 the rich she treats like an arrant step-mother; 
 they are pleased with nothing; cut a steak 
 from what part you will, and it is insupport- 
 ab\y tough; dress it up with pickles, even 
 pickles cannot procure them an appetite. 
 But the whole creation is filled with good 
 things for the beggar; Calvert'sbutt out-tastes 
 Champaigne, and Sedgeley's home-brewed 
 excels Tokay. Joy, joy, my blood, though 
 our estates lie no where, we have fortunes 
 wherever we go. If an inundation sweeps 
 
ESSAYS. 
 
 867 
 
 away half the grounds of Cornwall, I am con- 
 tent ; i have no lands there : if the stocks 
 sink, that gives me no uneasiness ; I am no 
 Jew.' The fellow's vivacity, joined to his 
 poverty, I own, raised my curiosity to know 
 something of his life and circumstances; and 
 I entreated that he would indulge my desire. 
 'That I will, sir,' said he, 'and welcome; 
 only let us drink to prevent our sleeping ; let 
 us have another tankard while we are awake: 
 let us h;ive another tankard ; for, ah, how 
 charming a tankard looks when full ! 
 
 ' You must know, then, that I am very well 
 descended; my ancestors have made some 
 noise in the world ; for my mother cried 
 ovsters, and my father beat a drum : I am 
 told we have even had some trumpeters in 
 our family. Many a nobleman cannot show 
 so respectful a genealogy : but that is neither 
 here nor there. As I was their only child, 
 my lather designed to breed me up to his own 
 employment, which was that of a drummer to 
 a puppet-show. Thus the whole employment 
 of my younger years was that of interpreter 
 to Punch and king Solomon in all his glory. 
 But, though my father was very fond of in- 
 structing me In beating all the inarches and 
 points of war, I made no very great progress, 
 because I naturally had no ear for music; so 
 at the age of fifteen, I went and listed for a 
 soldier. As I had ever hated beating a drum, 
 so I soon found that I disliked carrying a mus- 
 ket also ; neither the one trade nor the other 
 were to my taste, for I was by nature fond of 
 being a gentleman : besides, I was obliged to 
 obey my captain ; he has his will, I have mine, 
 and you have yours: now I very reasonably 
 concluded, that it was much more comfortable 
 for a man to o-bey his own will than another's. 
 
 ' The life of a soldier soon therefore gave 
 me the spleen ; I asked leave to quit the ser- 
 vice ; but. as I was tall and strong, my cap- 
 tain thanked me for my kind intention, and 
 said, because he had a regard for me, we 
 should not part. I wrote to my fatheravery 
 dismal penitent letter, and desired he would 
 raise money to pay for my discharge; but 
 the good man was as fond of drinking as I was, 
 (Sir, my service to you.) and those who are 
 fond of drinking never pay for other people's 
 discharges : in short, he never answered my 
 letter. What could be done ? If I have not 
 
 money, said I to myself, to pay for my dis- 
 charge, I must find an equivalent some other 
 way ; and that must be by running away. I 
 deserted, and that answered my purpose 
 every bit as well as if I had bought my dis- 
 charge. 
 
 'Well, I was now fairly rid of my military 
 employment; I sold my soldier's clothes, and 
 bought worse, and, in order not to be over- 
 taken, took the most unfrequented roads pos- 
 sible. One evening, as I was entering a vil- 
 lage, I perceived a man, whom I afterwards 
 found to be the curate of the parish, thrown 
 from his horse in a miry road, and almost 
 smothered in the mud. He desired my as- 
 sistance; I gave it, and drew him out with 
 some difficulty. He thanked me for my trou- 
 ble, and was going ofT; but I followed him 
 home, for I loved always to have a man thank 
 me at his own door. The curate asked me 
 an hundred questions; as, whose son I was, 
 from whence I came, and whether I would be 
 faithful? I answered him greatly to his satis- 
 faction ; and gave myself one of the best cha- 
 racters in the world for sobriety, (Sir, I have 
 the honour of drinking your health,) discre- 
 tion, and fidelity. To make a long story short, 
 he wanted a servant, and hired me. With 
 him I lived but two months ; we did not much 
 like each other; I was fond of eating, and he 
 gave me but little to eat. I loved a pretty 
 girl, and the old woman, my fellow-servant, 
 was ill-natured and ugly. As they endea- 
 voured to starve me between them, I made a 
 pious resolution to prevent their committing 
 murder : I stole the eggs as soon as they were 
 laid ; I emptied every unfinished bottle that 
 I could lay my hands on ; whatever eatable 
 came in my way was sure to disappear: in 
 short, they found I would not do : so I was dis- 
 charged one morning, and paid three shillings 
 and sixpence for two months' wages. 
 
 ' While my money was getting ready, I 
 employed myself in making preparations for 
 my departure; two hens were hatching in an 
 out-house, I went and habitually took the eggs, 
 and, not to separate the parents from the 
 children, I lodged hens and all in my knap- 
 sack. After this piece of frugality, I return- 
 ed to receive my money, and with my knap- 
 sack on my back, and a staff' in my hand. I 
 bid adieu, with tears in my eyes, to my old 
 6D 
 
868 
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 benefactor. I had not gone far from the 
 h<>use. when I heard behind me the cry of 
 stop thief! but this only increased my des- 
 
 Fatch; it would have been foolish to stop, as 
 knew the voice could not be levelled at me. 
 But hold, I think I passed those two months 
 at the rurate's without drinking: come, the 
 times are dry, and may this be rny poison if 
 ever I spent two more pious, stupid months, 
 in all my life. 
 
 ' Well, after travelling some days, whom 
 should I light upon but a company of stroll- 
 ing players. The moment I saw them at a 
 distance my heart warmed to them ; I had a 
 sort of natural love for every thing of the 
 vagabond order: they were employed in 
 settling their baggage, which had been over- 
 turned in a narrow way ; I offered my assist- 
 ance, which they accepted ; and we soon be- 
 came so well acquainted, that they took me 
 as a servant. This was a paradise to me; 
 they sung, danced, drank, eat, and travelled, 
 all at the same time. By the blood of the 
 Mirabels, I thought I had never lived till then; 
 I grew as merry as a grig, and laughed at 
 every word that was spoken. They liked 
 me as much as I liked them ; I was a very 
 good figure, as you see; and, though I was 
 poor, I was not modest. 
 
 ' I love a straggling life above all things in 
 the world ; sometimes good, sometimes bad ; 
 to be warm to-day, and cold to-morrow ; to 
 eat when one can get it, and drink when (the 
 tankard is out) it stands before me. We 
 arrived that evening at Tenderden, and took 
 a large room at the Grayhound ; where we | 
 resolved to exhibit Romeo and Juliet, with 
 the funeral procession, the grave and the 
 garden scene. Romeo was to be performed 
 by a gentleman from the Theatre-Royal 
 in Drury-lane ; Juliet, by a lady who had 
 never appeared on any stage before ; and I 
 was to s'mlHlie candles : all excellent in our 
 way. We had figures enough, but the diffi- 
 culty was to dress them. The same coat 
 that served Romeo, turned with the blue 
 lining outwards, served for his friend. Mer- 
 cutio : a largo piece of crape sufficed at once 
 for Juliet's petticoat and pall: a pestle and 
 mortar, from a neighbouring apothecary's, 
 answered all the purposes of a hell: and our 
 landlord's own family, wrapped in white 
 
 I sheets, served to fill up the procession. In 
 | short, there were but three figures among us 
 that might be said to be dressed with any 
 propriety : I mean the nurse, the starved 
 apothecary, and myself. Our performance 
 gave universal satisfaction : the vt hole audi- 
 ence were enchanted with our powers, and 
 Tenderden is a town of taste. 
 
 ' There is one rule by which a strolli'ng- 
 player may be over secure of success; that 
 is, in our theatrical way of expressing it, to 
 make a great deal of the character. To 
 speak and act as in common life, is not play- 
 ing, nor is what people come to see: natural 
 speaking, like sweet wine, runs glibly over 
 the palate, and scarce leaves any taste be- 
 hind it; but being high in a part resembles 
 vinegar, which grates upon the taste, and one 
 feels it while he is drinking. To please the 
 town or country, the way is, to cry, wring, 
 cringe into attitudes, mark the emphasis, slap 
 the pockets, and labour like one in the falling 
 sickness: that is the way to work for applause, 
 that is the way to gain it. 
 
 'As we received much reputation for our 
 skill on this first exhibition, it was but natu- 
 ral lor me to ascribe part of the success to 
 myself; I snuffed the cam! les : and lot me toll 
 you, that, without a candle-snufibr, the piece 
 would lose half its embellishments. In this 
 manner we continued a fortnight, and drew 
 tolerable houses; but the evening before our 
 intended departure, we gave out our very 
 best pioce, in which all our strength was to 
 be exerted. We had great expectations from 
 this, and even doubled our prices, when, be- 
 hold, one of the principal actors foil ill of a 
 violent fever. This was a stroke like thun- 
 der to our little company : they wore rest>lv- 
 ed to go, in a body, to scold the man for fall- 
 ing sick at so inconvenient a time, and that 
 too of a disorder that threatened to be ex- 
 pensive ; 1 seized the moment, arid offered to 
 act the part myself in his stead. The case 
 was desperate ; they accepted my offor ; and 
 I accordingly sat down, with the pnrt in my 
 bond and the tankard before me, (Sir. your 
 health,) and studied the character, which was 
 to be rehearsed the next day, and played 
 soon after. 
 
 I found my memory excessively helped by 
 drinking: i learnt my part with astonishing 
 
ESSAYS. 
 
 869 
 
 rapidity, and bid adieu to snuffing candles 
 ever after. I found that nature had designed 
 me for more noble employments, and 1 was 
 resolved to take her when in the humour. 
 We got together in order to rehearse, and I 
 informed my companions, masters now no 
 longer, of the surprising change 1 felt within 
 me. Let the sick man, said I, be under no 
 uneasiness to get well again ; I'll fill his place 
 to universal satisfaction : he may even die, if 
 he thinks proper, I'll engage that he shall 
 never be missed. I rehearsed before them, 
 strutted, ranted, and received applause. 
 They soon gave out that a new actor of 
 eminence was to appear, and immediately all 
 the genteel places were bespoke. Before I 
 ascended the stage, however, I concluded 
 within myself, that, as I brought money to 
 the house, I ought to have my share of the 
 profits. Gentlemen, said I, addressing our 
 company, I don't pretend to direct you; far 
 be it from me to treat you with so much in- 
 gratitude; you have published my name in 
 the bills with the utmost good nature ; and as 
 affairs stand, cannot act without me; so, 
 gentlemen, to show you my gratitude, I ex- 
 pect' to be paid for my acting as much as any 
 of you, otherwise I declare off; I'll brandish 
 my snuffers and clip candles as usual. This 
 was a very disagreeable proposal, but they 
 found that it was impossible to refuse it; it 
 was irresistible, it was adamant: they con- 
 sented, and I went on in king Bajazet: my 
 frowning brows, bound with a stocking stuffed 
 into a turban, while on my captived arms I 
 brandished a jack-chain. Nature seemed to 
 have fitted me for the part; I was tall, and 
 had a loud voice, my very entrance excited 
 universal applause ; I looked round on the 
 audience with a smile, and made a most low 
 and graceful bow, for that is the rule among 
 us. As it was a very passionate part, I in- 
 \igorated my spirits with three full glasses 
 (the tankard is almost out) of brandy. By 
 Alia! it is alinost inconceivable how I went 
 through with it ; Tamerlane was but a fool io 
 me, though he was sometimes loud enough 
 too, yet I was still louder than he ; but, then, 
 besides, I had attitudes in abundance: in 
 general I kept my arms folded up thus upon 
 the pit "f my stomach; it is tue way it 
 Drury-lane, and has always a fine effect. The 
 NO. 75 & 76. 
 
 tankard would sink to the bottom before I 
 could get through the whole of my merits 
 in short, I came off like a prodigy; and, such 
 was my success, that I could ravish the laurels 
 even from a sirloin of beef. The principal 
 gentlemen and htdies of the town came tome 
 after the play was over, to compliment me 
 upon my success; one praised my voice, 
 another my person : upon my word, says the 
 'squire's lady, he will make one of the finest 
 actors in Europe; I say it, and I think 1 am 
 something of a judge. Praise in the beginning 
 is agreeable enough, and we receive it as a 
 favour ; but when it comes in great quantities 
 we regard it only as a debt, which nothing 
 but our merit could extort: instead of thank- 
 ing them, I internally applauded myself. We 
 were desired to give our piece a second time ; 
 we obeyed, and 1 was applauded even more 
 than before. 
 
 ' At last we left the town, in order to be at 
 a horse-race at some distance from thence. 
 I shall never think of Tenderden without 
 tears of gratitude and respect. The ladies 
 and gentlemen there, take my word for it, are 
 very good judges of pla)s and actors. Come, 
 let us drink their healths, if you please, Sir. 
 We quitted the town, I say ; and there was a 
 wide difference between my coming in and go- 
 ing out : I entered the town a candle-snuffer, 
 and quitted itanhero! such is the world; little 
 to-day, and great to-morrow. I could say a 
 great deal more upon that subject; something 
 truly sublime upon the ups and downs of for- 
 tune ; but it will give us both the spleen, and 
 so I shall pass it over. 
 
 'The races were ended before we arrived 
 at the next town, which was no small disap- 
 pointment to our company ; however, we 
 were resolved to take all we could get. I 
 played capital characters there too, and came 
 off with my usual brilliancy. I sincerely be- 
 lieve I should have been the first actor of 
 Europe, had my growing merit been proper- 
 ly cultivated: but there came an unkindly 
 frost which nipped me in the bud, and levelled 
 me once more down to the common standard 
 of humanity. I played Sir Harry Wildair: all 
 the country ladies were charmed : if I but drew 
 out my snuff-box, the whole house was in a roar 
 of rapture; when I exercised my cudgel, I 
 thought they would have fa lien into convulsions 
 6D* 
 
870 
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 ' There was here a lady who had received 
 an education of nine months in London; and 
 this gave her pretensions to taste, which 
 rendered her the indisputable mistress of 
 the ceremonies wherever she came. She 
 wan informed of my merits; every body prais- 
 ed me ; yet she refused at first going to see 
 me perform : she could not conceive, she 
 said, any thing but stuff" from a stroller ; talk- 
 ed something in praise of Garrick, and amazed 
 the ladies with her skill in enunciations, tones, 
 and cadences : she was at last, however, pre- 
 vailed upon to go; and it was privately 
 intimated to me what a judge was to be pre- 
 sent at my next exhibition : however, no way 
 intimidated, I came on as Sir Harry, one 
 hand stuck in my breeches, and the other in 
 my bosom, as is usual at Drury-lane ; but, in- 
 stead of looking at me, I perceived the whole 
 audience had their eyes turned upon the lady 
 
 who had been nine months in London : from 
 her they expected the decision which was to 
 secure the general's truncheon in my hand, 
 or sink me down into a theatrical letter-car- 
 rier. I opened my snuff-box, took snuff; the 
 lady was solemn, and so were the rest ; I 
 broke the cudgel on alderman Smuggler's 
 back ; still gloomy, melancholy all, the lady 
 groaned and shrugged her shoulders ; I at- 
 tempted, by laughing myself, to excite at least 
 a smile; but the devil a cheek could I per- 
 ceive wrinkled into sympathy : I found it 
 would not do; all my good humour now be- 
 came forced ; my laughter was converted 
 into hysteric grinning ; and while I pretended 
 spirits, my eye showed the agony of my heart; 
 in short, the lady came with an intention to be 
 displeased, and displeased she was ; my 
 fame expired; I am here, and (the tankard 
 is no more !) 
 
 ESSAY VI. 
 
 NO observation is more common, and at 
 the same time more true, than that one half 
 of the world are ignorant how the other half 
 lives. The misfortunes of the great are held 
 up to engage our attention; are enlarged 
 upon in tones of declamation ; and the world 
 is called upon to gaze at the noble sufferers ; 
 the great, under the pressure of calamity, are 
 conscious of several others sympathizing with 
 their distress : and have the comfort of ad- 
 miration and pity. 
 
 There is nothing magnanimous in bearing 
 misfortunes with fortitude, when the whole 
 world islooking on : men in such circumstances 
 will act bravely from motives of vanity ; but 
 he who, in the vale of obscurity, can brave 
 adversity; who, without friends to encourage, 
 acquaintances to pi'y, or even without hope, 
 to alleviate his misfortunes, can behave with 
 tranquillity and indifference, is truly great : 
 whether peasant or courtier, he deserves ad- 
 miration, and should be held up for our imi- 
 tation and respect. 
 
 While the slightest inconveniences of the 
 great are magnified into calamities, while 
 
 tragedy mouths out their sufferings in all the 
 strains of eloquence, the miseries of the poor 
 are entirely disregarded; and yet some of 
 the lower ranks of people undergo more real 
 hardships in one day, that those of a more 
 exalted station suffer in their whole lives. It 
 is inconceivable what difficulties the meanest 
 of our common sailors and soldiers endure 
 without murmuring or regret; without pas- 
 sionately declaiming against Providence, or 
 calling their fellows to be gazers on their 
 intrepidity. Every day is to them a day 
 of misery, and yet they entertain their hard 
 fate without repining. 
 
 With what indignation do I hear an Ovid, 
 a Cicero, or a Rabutin, complain of their mis- 
 fortunes, and hardships, whose greatest 
 calamity was that of being unable to visit a 
 certain spot of earth, to which they had fool- 
 ishly attached an idea of happiness. Their 
 distrf-sses were pleasures, compared to what 
 manv of the adventuring poor every day en- 
 dure without murmuring. They ate. drank, 
 and slept ; thev hud slaves to attend thorn, 
 aud were sure of subsistence for life ; while 
 
ESSAYS. 
 
 871 
 
 many of their fellow creatures are obliged to 
 wander without a friend to comfort or assist 
 them, and even without shelter from the 
 severity of the season. 
 
 1 have been led into those reflections from 
 accidentally meeting, some days ago, a poor 
 fellow whom I knew when a boy, dressed in 
 a sailors jacket, and begging at one of the 
 outlets of the town, with a wooden leg. I 
 knew him to have been honest and industri- 
 ous when in the country, and was curious to 
 learn what had reduced him to his present 
 situation. Wherefore, alter having given him 
 what I thought proper, I desired to know the 
 history of his lite and misfortunes, and the 
 manner in which he was reduced to his pre- 
 sent distress. The disabled soldier, for such 
 he was, though dressed in a sailor's habit, 
 scratching his head, and leaning on his 
 crutch, put himself into an attitude to comply 
 with my request, and gave me his history as 
 follows. 
 
 ' As for my misfortunes, master, I cannot 
 pretend to have gone through any more than 
 other folks; for, except the loss of my limb, 
 and my being obliged to beg. 1 don't know 
 any reason, thank Heaven, that I have to 
 complain; there is Bill Tibbs, of our regi- 
 ment, he has lost both his legs and an eye to 
 boot; but, thank Heaven, it is not so bad 
 with me yet. 
 
 ' I was born in Shropshire, my father was 
 a labourer, and died when I was five years 
 old; so I was put upon the parish. As he 
 had been a wandering sort of a man, the 
 parishioners were not able to tell to what 
 parish I belonged, or where I was born, so 
 they sent me to another parish, and that 
 parish sent me to a third. I thought in my 
 heart, they kept sending me about so long, 
 that they would not let me be born in any par- 
 ish at all ; but at last, however, they tixed me. I 
 had some disposition to be a scholar, and was 
 resolved, at least, to know my letters; but 
 the master of the work-house put me to busi- 
 ness as soon as I was able to handle a mallet; 
 and here I lived an easy kind of life for five 
 years. I o'lly wrought. ten hours in the day, 
 and had my meat and drink provided for my 
 labour. It is trup, I was not suffered to stir 
 out of the house, for fear, as they said, I 
 should run away; but what of that, I had the 
 
 j liberty of the whole house, and the yard be- 
 fore the door, and that was enough for me. 
 I was then bound out to a farmer, where I 
 was up both early and late : but 1 ate and 
 drank well, and liked my business well 
 enough, till he died, when 1 was obliged to 
 provide lor myself; sol was resolved to go 
 seek my fortune. 
 
 ' In this manner I went from town to town, 
 worked when I could get employment, and 
 starved when I could get none: when happen- 
 ing one day to go through a field belonging 
 to a justice of peace, I spyed a hare crossing 
 the path just before me; and I believe the 
 devil put it in my head to Hing my stick at 
 it: Well, what will you have on't ? 1 killed 
 the hare, and was bringing it away, when the 
 justice himself met me: he called me a 
 poacher and a villain ; and collaring me, de- 
 sired I would give an account of myself; I 
 fell upon my knees, begged his worship's par- 
 don, and began to give a lull account of all 
 that I knew of my breed, seed, and genera- 
 tion ; but, though I gave a very true account, 
 the justice said I could give no account ; so I 
 was indicted at the sessions, found guilty of 
 being poor, and sent up to London to New- 
 gate, in order to be transported as a vagabond. 
 
 k People may say this and that of being in 
 jail ; but, for my part, I found Newgate as 
 agreeable a place as ever I was in, in al! my 
 life. I had my belly full to eat and drink, and 
 did no work at all. This kind of life was too 
 good to last for ever ; so I was taken out of 
 prison, after five months, puton board a ship, 
 and sent off, with two hundred more, to the 
 plantations. We had but an indifferent pas- 
 sage, for, being all confined in the hold, more 
 than a hundred of our people died for want 
 of sweet air; and those that remained were 
 sickly enough, God knows. When we came 
 a-shore, we were sold to the planters, and I 
 was bound for seven years more. As I was 
 no scholar, for 1 did not know my letters, I 
 was obliged to work among the negroes ; 
 and 1 served out my time, as in duty bound 
 to do. 
 
 'When my time was expired. I worked my 
 passage home, and glad I was to see old 
 England again, because I loved my country. 
 1 was afraid, however, that I should be in- 
 dicted for a vagabond once more, go did not 
 
872 
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 much care to go clown into the country, but 
 kept about the town, and did little jobs when 
 I could get them. 
 
 ' I was very happy in this manner for some 
 time, till one evening, coming home from 
 work, two men knocked me down, and then 
 desired me to stand. They belonged to a 
 press-gang ; I was carried before the justice, 
 and, as I could give no account of myself, I 
 had my choice left, whether to go on board a 
 man of war, or list for a soldier. I chose the 
 latter ; and, in this post of a gentleman, I 
 served two campaigns in Flanders, was at 
 the battles of Val and Fontenoy, and receiv- 
 ed but one wound, through the breast here; 
 but the doctor of our regiment soon made me 
 well again. 
 
 Then the peace came on I was discharg- 
 ed ; and, as I could not work, because my 
 wound was sometimes troublesome, I listed 
 for a landsman in the East-India company's 
 service. I have fought the French in six 
 pitched battles : and 1 verily believe, that if 
 I could read or write, our captain would have 
 made me a corporal. But it was not my good 
 fortune to have any promotion, for I soon fell 
 sick, and so got leave to return home again 
 with forty pounds in my pocket. This was 
 at the beginning of the present war, and 1 
 hoped to be set on shore, and to have the 
 pleasure of spending my money ; but the 
 government wanted men, and so I was press- 
 ed for a sailor, before ever I could set foot 
 on shore. 
 
 ' The boatswain found me, as he said, an 
 obstinate fellow : he swore he knew that I un- 
 derstood my business well, but that I shammed 
 Abraham, to be idle : but God knows, I knew 
 nothing of sea business, and he beat me with- 
 out considering what he was about. 1 had 
 still, however, my forty pounds, and that was 
 some comfort to me under every beating; 
 and the money I might have had to this day, 
 but that our ship was taken by the French, 
 and so I lost all. 
 
 ' Our crew was carried into Brest, and 
 many of them died, because they were not 
 used to live in a jail ; but, for my part, it was 
 nothing to me, for I was seasoned. One 
 night, as I was asleep on the bed of boards, 
 with a warm blanket about me, for I always 
 Joved to lie well, I was awakened by the 
 
 boatswain, who had a dark lantern in his 
 hand ; " Jack," says he to me, " will you knock 
 out the French sentry's brains?'' 'I don't 
 care,' says I, striving to keep myself awake, 
 ' if I lend a hand.' " Then follow me," says 
 he, " and I hope we shall do business." So 
 up I got, and tied my blanket, which was all 
 the clothes I had, about my middle, and went 
 with him to fight the Frenchman. 1 Late the 
 French, because they are all slaves, and wear 
 wooden shoes. 
 
 ' Though we had no arms, one Englishman 
 is able to beat five French at any time ; so 
 we went down to the door, where both the 
 sentries were posted, and rushing upon them, 
 seized their arms in a moment, and knocked 
 them down. From thence, nine of us ran to- 
 gether to the quay, and seizing the first boat 
 we met, got out of the harbour and put to sea. 
 We had not been here three days before we 
 were taken up by the Dorset privateer, who 
 were glad of so many good hands; arid we 
 consented to run our chance. However, we 
 had not as much luck as we expected. In 
 three days we fell in with the Pompadour 
 privateer, of forty guns, while we had but 
 twenty-three ; so to it we went, yard-arm and 
 yard-arm. The fight lasted for three hours, 
 and I verily believe we should have taken the 
 Frenchman, had we but had some more men 
 left behind ; but, unfortunately, we lost all our 
 men just as we were going to get the vic- 
 tory. 
 
 ' I was once more in the power of the 
 French, and I believe it would have gone 
 hard with me had I been brought back to 
 Brest; but, by good fortune, we were retaken 
 by the Viper. I had almost forgot to tell 
 you, that in that engagement, I was wounded 
 in two places : I lost four fingers off the left, 
 hand, and my leg was shot off! If I had had 
 the good fortune to have lost my leg and use 
 of my hand on board a king's ship, and not 
 a-board a privateer, I should have been 
 entitled to clothing and maintenance during 
 the rest of my life: but that was not my 
 chance : one man is born with a silver spoon 
 in his mouth, and another with a wooden 
 ladle. However, blessed be God, I enjoy 
 good health, and will forever love liberty and 
 old England. Liberty, property, and old 
 England, for ever, huzza !' 
 
ESSAYS. 
 
 873 
 
 Thus saying, he limped off, leaving me in 
 admiration at his intrepidity and content; 
 nor could I avoid acknowledging, that an 
 
 habitual acquaintance with misery serves 
 better than philosophy to teach us to de- 
 spise it. 
 
 e9 
 
 ESSAY VII. 
 
 AN alehouse-keeper, near Islington, who 
 had long lived at the sign of the French 
 king, upon the commencement of the last war, 
 pulled down his old sign, and put up that of 
 the queen of Hungary. Under the influence 
 of her red face, and golden sceptre, he con- 
 tinued to sell ale, till she was no longer the 
 favourite of his customers ; he changed her, 
 therefore, some time ago, for the king of 
 Prussia, who may probably be changed, in 
 turn, for the next great man that shall be set 
 up for vulgar admiration. 
 
 In this manner the great are dealt out one 
 after the other, to the gazing crowd. When 
 we have sufficiently wondered at one of them, 
 he is taken in, and another exhibited in his 
 room, who seldom holds his station long; for 
 the mob are ever pleased with variety. 
 
 I must own I have such an indifferent 
 opinion of the vulgar, that I am ever led to 
 suspect that merit which raises their shout ; 
 at least I am certain to find those great and 
 sometimes good men, who find satisfaction in 
 such acclamations, made worse by it ; and 
 history has too frequently taught me, that the 
 head which has grown one day giddy with 
 the roar of the million, has the very next been 
 fixed upon a pole. 
 
 As Alexander VI. was entering a little 
 town in the neighbourhood of Rome, which 
 had been just evacuated by the enemy, he 
 perceived the townsmen busy in the market- 
 place in pulling dowi from a gibbet a figure 
 which had been designed to represent him- 
 self. Tnere were some also knocking down 
 a neighbouring statue of one of the Orsini 
 family, with whom he was at war, in order to 
 put Alexanders effigy in its place. It is pos- 
 sible a man who knew less of the world, 
 would have condemned the adulation of those 
 bare-facpd flatterers; but Alexander seemed 
 pleased at their zeal ; and turning to Borgia, 
 
 his son, said with a smile, 'Vides, mi fili 
 quam leve discrimen patibulum inter et sta- 
 tuam.' ' You see, my son, the small difference 
 between a gibbet and a statue.' If the great 
 could be taught any lesson, this might serve 
 to teach them upon how weak a foundation 
 their glory stands; for, as popular applause 
 is excited by what seems like merit, it as 
 quickly condemns what has only the appear- 
 ance of guilt. 
 
 Popular glory is a perfect coquet; her 
 lovers must toil, feel every inquietude, indulge 
 every caprice; and, perhaps, at last be jilted 
 for their pains. True glory, on the other 
 hand, resembles a woman of sense: her ad- 
 mirers must play no tricks ; they feel no great 
 anxiety, for they are sure, in the end, of being 
 rewarded in proportion to their merit. When 
 Swift used to appear in public, he generally 
 had the mob shouting in his train. 'Pox 
 take these fools,' he would say, 'how much 
 joy might all this bawling give my lord-mayor. 
 
 We have seen those virtues, which have, 
 while living, retired from the public eye, 
 generally transmitted to posterity, as the 
 truest objects of admiration and praise. Per- 
 haps the character of the late duke of Marl- 
 borough may one day be set up, even above 
 that of his more talked-of predecessor; since an 
 assemblage of all the mild and amiable vir- 
 tues, are far superior to those vulgarly called 
 the great ones. I must be pardoned for this 
 short tribute to the memory of a man, who, 
 while living, would as much detest to receive 
 any thing that wore the appearance of flatte- 
 ry, as I should to offer it. 
 
 I know not how to turn so trite a subject 
 out of the beaten road of common-place, ex- 
 cept by illustrating it. rather by the assistance 
 of my memory than judgment ; and instead of 
 making reflections, by telling a stor\. 
 
 A Chinese, who had long studied, the workj 
 
874 
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 of Confucius, who knew the characters of 
 fourteen thousand words, and could read a 
 great part of every book that came in his way. 
 once took it into his head to travel into Eu- 
 rope, and observe the customs of a people 
 which he thought not very much interior, 
 even to his own countrymen. Upon his ar- 
 rival at Amsterdam, his passion for letters 
 naturally led him to a bookseller's shop; and, 
 as he could speak a little Dutch, he civilly 
 asked the bookseller for the works of the 
 immortal Xixofou. The bookseller assured 
 him he had never heard the book mentioned 
 before; 'Alas!' cries our traveller, ' to what 
 purpose, then, has he fasted to death, to gain 
 a renown which has never travelled beyond 
 the precincts of China!' 
 
 There is scarce a village in Europe, and 
 not one university, that is not thus furnished 
 with its little great men. The head of a 
 petty corporation, who opposes the designs 
 of a prince, who would tyrannically force his 
 subjects to save their best clothes for sun- 
 days; the puny pedant, who finds one undis- 
 covered quality in the polype, or describes 
 an unheeded process in the skeleton of a 
 mole; and whose mind, like his microscope, 
 perceives nature only in detail ; the rhymer, 
 who makes smooth verses, and paints to our 
 imagination, when he should only speak to 
 
 our hearts; all equally fancy themselves 
 walking forward to immortality, and desire 
 the crowd behind them to look on. The 
 crowd takes them at their word. Patriot, 
 philosopher, and poet, are shouted in their 
 train. ' Where was there ever so much merit 
 M'en; no times so important as our own; 
 ages, yet unborn, shall gaze with wonder and 
 applause!' To such music, the important 
 pigmy moves forward; bustling and swell- 
 ing, and aptly compared to a puddle in a 
 storm. 
 
 I have lived to see generals who once had 
 crowds hallooing after them wherever they 
 went, who were bepraised by newspapers 
 and magazines, those echoes of the voice of 
 the vulgar, and yet they have long sunk into 
 merited obscurity, with scarce even au epitaph 
 left to flatter. A few years ago the herring- 
 fishery employed all Grub-street ; it was the 
 topic in every coffee-house, and the burden 
 of every ballad. We were to drag up oceans 
 of gold from the bottom of the sea; we were 
 to supply all Europe with herrings upon our 
 own terms. At present we hear no more of 
 this. We have "fished up very little gold that 
 I can learn ; nor do we furnish the world with 
 herrings, as was expected. Let us wait but 
 a few years longer, and we shall find all our 
 expectations an herring-fishery. 
 
 e*~- 
 
 ESSAY VIII. 
 
 THOUGH naturally pensive, yet I am fond 
 of gay company, and take every opportunity 
 of thus dismissing the mind from duty. From 
 this motive I am often found in the centre of 
 a crowd ; and wherever pleasure is to be 
 sold, am always a purchaser. In those places, 
 without being remarked by any, I join in 
 whatever goes forward, work my passions into 
 a similitude of frivolous earnestness, shout as 
 they shout, and condemn as they happen to 
 disapprove. A mind thus sunk for a while 
 below its natural standard, is qualified for 
 stronger flights; as those first retire who 
 Would spring forward with greater vigour. 
 
 Attracted by the serenity of the evening, a 
 
 friend and I lately went to gaze upon the 
 company in one of the public walks near the 
 city. Here we sauntered together for some 
 time, either praising the beauty of such as 
 were handsome, or the dresses of such as had 
 nothing else to recommend them. We had 
 gone thus deliberately forward for some time, 
 when my friend stopping on a sudden, caught 
 me by the elbow, and led me out of the public 
 walk ; I could perceive by the quickness of 
 his pace, and by his frequently looking be- 
 hind, that he was attempting to avoid some- 
 body who followed ; we now turned to the 
 right, then to the left : as we went forward, 
 he still went faster, but in vain; the person 
 
ESSAYS. 
 
 876 
 
 whom he attempted to escape, hunted us 
 through every doubling, and gained upon us 
 each moment ; so that, at last, we fairly stood 
 still, resolving to face what we could not 
 avoid. 
 
 Our pursuer soon came np, and joined us 
 with all the familiarity of an old acquaintance. 
 ' My dear Charles,' cries he, shaking my 
 friend's hand, ' where have you been hiding 
 this half a century ? Positively, I had fancied 
 von were gone down to cultivate matrimony 
 siiul your estate in the country.' During the 
 reply, 1 had an opportunity of surveying the 
 appearance of our new companion. His hat 
 was pinched up with peculiar smartness ; his 
 looks were pale, thin, and sharp; round his 
 neck he wore a broad black ribbon, and in his 
 bosom a buckle studded with glass ; his coat 
 was trimmed with tarnished twist ; he wore 
 by his side a sword with a black hilt ; and his 
 stockings of silk, though newly washed, were 
 grown yellow by long service. I was so much 
 engaged with the peculiarity of his dress, that 
 I attended only to the latter part of my friend's 
 reply ; in which he complimented Mr, Tibbs 
 on the t^ste of his clothes, and the bloom in 
 his countenance. 'Psha, psha, Charles,' cried 
 the figure, ' no more of that if you love me ; 
 you know I hate flattery, on my soul I do ; 
 and yet to be sure an intimacy with the great 
 will improve one's appearance, and a course 
 of venison will fatten ; and yet, faith, I despise 
 the great as much as you do ; but there are a 
 great many honest fellows among them ; and 
 we must not quarrel with one half because the 
 other wants breeding. If they were all such 
 as my lord Mtidler, one of the most good- 
 natured creatures that ever squeezed a lemon, 
 I should myself be among the number of their 
 admirers. 1 was yesterday to dine at the 
 duchess of Piccadilly's. My lord was there. 
 ' Ned,' says he to me, ' Ned', says he, ' I'll 
 hold gold to silver I can tell where you were 
 po:iclung last night.' ' Poaching, my lord,' 
 savs I ; ' faith, you have missed already ; for 1 
 staid at home, and let the girls poach for me. 
 That's my way ; 1 take a fine woman as some 
 animals do their prey ; stand still, and swoop, 
 they fall into my mouth.' 
 
 ' Ah, Tibbs, thou art an happy fellow,' 
 cried my companion with looks of infinite pity, 
 ' I hope your fortune is as much improved U3 
 
 NO. 75 & 76. 
 
 your understanding in such company ?' ' Im- 
 proved,' replied the oilier; 'you shall know, 
 but let it go no farther, a gn at secret five 
 hundred a year to begin with My lord's 
 word of honour for it Ills lordship took me 
 down in his own chariot yesterday, and we 
 had a tete-a-tete dinner in the country ; where 
 we talked of nothing else,' '1 fancy you forgot, 
 Sir,' cried I, ' you told us but this moment of 
 your dining yesterday in town !' ' Did I sny 
 so,' replied he cooly. ' To be sure, if I said so 
 it was so. Dined in town: egad, now I do 
 remember I did dine in town : but I dined in 
 the country too : for you must know, my boys, 
 I eat two dinners. By the by, I am grown 
 as nice as the devil in my eating. I'll tell you 
 a pleasant affair about that : we were a select 
 party of us to dine at lady Giograrn's, r.n af- 
 fected piece, but let it go no farther; a secret: 
 Well, says I, I'll hold a thousand guineas, and 
 say done first, that But dear Charles, you 
 are an honest creature, lend me half a crown 
 fora minute or two, orso, just till But hark'e, 
 ask me for it next time we meet, or it may br. 
 twenty to one but. 1 forget to pay you.' 
 
 When he left us, our conversation natural!} 
 turned upon so extraordinary a character 
 ' His very dress,' cries my friend, ' is not 
 less extraordinary than his conduct. If you 
 meet him this day, you find him in rags ; if 
 the next, in embroidery : w ith those persons of 
 distinction, of whom he talks so familiarly, he 
 has scarce a coffee-house acquaintance. How- 
 ever, both for the interest of society, and per- 
 haps for his own, Heaven has made him poor; 
 and, while all the world perceives his w ants, 
 he fancies them concealed from every eye. 
 An agreeable companion, because he under- 
 stands flattery : and all must be pleased wilh 
 the first pair of his conversation, though all 
 are sure of its ending with a demand on their 
 purse. While his youth countenances the le- 
 vhy of his conduct, he may thus earn a pre- 
 carious subsistence ; but when atce conies on, 
 the gravity of which is incompatible with buf- 
 foonery, then will he find himself forsaken by 
 all. Condemned in the decline of life to hang 
 upon some rich family whom he once despised, 
 there to undergo all the ingenuity of stu ied 
 contempt; to be employed only as a spy upon 
 the servants, or a bug-bear to frighten children 
 into duty.' 
 
 6E 
 
876 
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 ESSAY IX. 
 
 WHEN Catharina Alexowna was made 
 empress of Russia, the women were in an ac- 
 tual state of bondage, but she undertook to 
 introduce mixed assemblies, as in other parts 
 of Europe: she altered the women's dress, by 
 substituting the fashions of England ! instead 
 of furs, she brought in the use of taffeta and 
 damask; and coronets and commodes, instead 
 of caps and sable. The women now found 
 themselves no longer shut up in separate apart- 
 ments, but saw company, visited each other, 
 and were present at every entertainment. 
 
 But as the laws to this effect were directed 
 to a savage people, it is amusing enough the 
 manner in which the ordinances ran. Assem- 
 blies were quite unknown among them, the 
 czarina was satisfied with introducing them, 
 for she found it was impossible to render them 
 polite. An ordinance was therefore publish- 
 ed according to their notions of breeding, 
 which, as it is a curiosity, and has never be- 
 fore been printed, that we know of, we shall 
 give our readers. 
 
 ' I. The person at whose house the assem- 
 bly is to be kept, shall signify the same by 
 hanging out a bill, or by giving some other 
 public notice, by way of advertisement, to per- 
 sons of both sexes. 
 
 ' II. The assembly shall not be opened 
 sooner than four or five o'clock in the after- 
 noon, nor continue longer than ten at night. 
 
 ' III. The master of the house shall not be 
 obliged to meet his guests, or conduct them 
 out, or keep them company ; but, though he 
 is exempt from all this, he is to find them 
 chairs, candles, liquors, and all other necessa- 
 ries that the company may ask for ; he is like- 
 
 wise to provide them with cards, dice, and 
 every necessary for gaming. 
 
 ' IV. There shall be no fixed hours for 
 coming or going away ; it is enough for a 
 person to appear in the assembly. 
 
 ' V. Every one shall be free to sit, walk, or 
 game as he pleases ; nor shall any one go 
 about to hinder him, or take exceptions at 
 what he does, upon pain of emptying the great 
 eagle, (a pint bowl full of brandy :) it shall 
 likewise be sufficient, at entering or retiring, to 
 salute the company. 
 
 ' VI. Persons of distinction, noblemen, su- 
 perior officers, merchants, and tradesmen of 
 note, head-workmen, especially carpenters, 
 and persons employed in chancery, are to have 
 the liberty to enter the assemblies : as likewise 
 their wives and children. 
 
 ' VII. A particular place shall be assigned 
 the footmen, except those of the house, that 
 there may be room enough in the apartments 
 designed for the assembly. 
 
 ' VIII. No ladies are to get drunk upon any 
 pretence whatsoever, nor shall gentlemen be 
 drunk before nine. 
 
 ' IX. Ladies, who play at forfeitures, ques- 
 tions and commands, &,c. shall not be riotous: 
 no gentleman shall attempt to force a kiss, 
 and no person shall offer to strike a woman 
 in the assembly, under pain of future exclu- 
 sion.' 
 
 Such are the statutes upon this occasion, 
 which, in their very appearance, carry an air 
 of ridicule and satire. But politeness must 
 enter every country by degrees ; and these 
 rules resemble the breeding of a clown, awk- 
 ward but sincere. 
 
ESSAYS. 
 
 877 
 
 ESSAY X. 
 
 WHERE Tauris lifts its head above the 
 storm, and presents nothing to the sight of the 
 distant traveller, but a prospect of nodding 
 rocks, falling torrents, and all the variety of 
 tremendous nature ; on the bleak bosom of 
 this frightful mountain, secluded from society, 
 and detesting the ways of men, lived Asem the 
 Man-hater. 
 
 Asem had spent his youth with men ; had 
 shared in their amusements ; and had been 
 taught to love his fellow-creatures \vith the 
 most ardent affection : but from the tender- 
 ness of his disposition, he exhausted all his 
 fortune in relieving tne wants of the distressed. 
 The petitioner never sued in vain ; the weary 
 traveller never passed his door ; he only de- 
 sisted from doing *iOod when tie had no longer 
 the power of relieving. 
 
 Fro n a fortune thus spent in benevolence, 
 he expected a grateful return from those he 
 had formerly relieved ; and made his appli- 
 cation with confidence of redress ; the ungrate- 
 ful world soon grew weary of his importunity ; 
 for pity is but a short-lived passion. He soon, 
 therefore, began to view mankind in a very 
 different light from that in which he had be- 
 fore beheld them ; he perceived a thousand 
 vices he had never before suspected to exist : 
 wherever he turned, ingratitude, dissimulation, 
 and treachery, contributed to increase his de- 
 testation of them. Resolved, therefore, to con- 
 tinue no longer in a world which he hated, 
 and which repaid his detestation with con- 
 tempt, he retired to this region of sterility, in 
 order to brood over his resentment in solitude, 
 and converse with the only honest heart he 
 knew ; namely, with his own. 
 
 A cave was his only shelter from the in- 
 clemency of the weather ; fruits gathered with 
 difficulty from the mountain's side, his only 
 food ; and his drink was fetched with' danger 
 and toil from the headlong torrent. In this 
 manner he lived, sequestered from socie'y, 
 passing the hours in meditation and some- 
 
 times exulting that he was able to live inde- 
 pendently of his fellow creatures. 
 
 At the foot of the mountain, an extensive 
 lake displayed its glassy bosom ; reflecting on 
 its broad surface the impending horrors of the 
 mountain. To this capacious mirror he would 
 sometimes descend, and, reclining on its steep 
 bank, cast an eager look on the smooth ex- 
 panse that lay before him. ' How beautiful,' 
 he often cried, ' is nature ! how lovely, even 
 in her wildest scenes ! how finely contrasted 
 is the level plain that lies beneath me, with 
 yon awful pile that hides its tremendous head 
 in clouds! But the beauty of these scenes is 
 no way comparable with their utility ; from 
 hence an hundred rivers are supplied v\ hich 
 distribute health and verdure to the various 
 countries through uhich they flow. Every 
 part of the universe is beautiful, just, and wise ; 
 but man, vile man, is a solecism in nature; 
 the only monster in creation. Tempests and 
 whirlwinds have their use ; but vicious, un- 
 grateful man, is a blot in the fair page of uni- 
 versal beauty. Why was I born of that de- 
 tested species, whose vices are almost a re- 
 proach to the wisdom of the divine Creator ? 
 Were men entirely free from vice, all would 
 be uniformity, harmony, and order. A world 
 of moral rectitude should be the result of a 
 perfectly moral agent. Why, why then, O 
 Alia ! must I be thug confined in darkness, 
 doubt, and despair ?' 
 
 Just as he uttered the word despair, he was 
 going to plunge into a hike beneath him, at 
 once to satisfy his doubts, and to put a period 
 to his anxiety ; w hen he perceived a most 
 majestic being walking on the surface of the 
 water, and approaching the bank on which he 
 stood. So unexpected an object at once check- 
 ed his purpose ; he stopped, contemplated, and 
 fancied he saw something awful and divine in 
 his aspect. 
 
 ' Son of Adam,' cried the genius. ' stop thy 
 rash purpose ; the father of the faithful has 
 
 6E* 
 
878 
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 seen thy justice, thy integrity, thy miseries, and 
 hath sent me to afford and administer relief. 
 Give me thine hand, and follow without 
 trembling, wherever I shall lead ; in me be- 
 hold the genius of conviction, kept by the 
 great prophet, to turn from their errors those 
 who go astray, not from curiosity, but a recti- 
 tude of intention. Follow me, and be wise.' 
 
 Asem immediately descended upon the 
 lake, and his guide conducted him along the 
 surface of the water ; till coming near the 
 centre of the lake they both began to sink ; 
 the waters closed over their heads ; they de- 
 scended several hundred fathoms, till Asem, 
 just ready to give up his life as inevitably lost, 
 found hi nself with his celestial guide in ano- 
 ther world, at the bottom of the waters, where 
 human foot hud never trod before. His 
 astonishment was beyond description, when 
 he saw a sun like tliat he had left, a serene 
 sky over his head, and blooming verdure un- 
 der his feet. 
 
 ' I plainly perceive your amazement,' said 
 the genius ; ' but suspend it for a while. 
 This world was formed by Alia, at the request 
 and under the inspection of our great prophet, 
 wlio once entertained the same doubts which 
 filled your mind when I found you, and from 
 the consequence of which you were so lately 
 rescued. The rational inhabitants of this 
 world are formed agreeable to your own ideas; 
 they are absolutely without vice. In other re- 
 spects it resembles your earth, but differs from 
 it in being wholly inhabited by men who 
 never do wrong. If you find this world more 
 agreeable than that you so lately left, you have 
 free permission to spend the remainder of your 
 days in it; but permit me, for some time, to 
 attend you, that I may silence your doubts, 
 and make you better acquainted with your 
 company and your new habitation.' 
 
 ' A world without vice ! Rational beings 
 without immorality !' cried Asem, in a rap- 
 ture: 'I thank thee, O Alia, who hast at 
 length heard my petitions ; this, this indeed 
 will produce happiness, ectasy, and ease. O 
 for an immortality tospend it among men who 
 are incapable of ingratitude, injustice, fraud, 
 violence, and a thousand other crimes, that 
 render society miserable !' 
 
 ' Cease thine acclamations,' replied the 
 penius. ' Look around thee ; reflect on every 
 object and action before us. and communicate 
 
 to me the result of thine observations. Lead 
 wherever you think proper, I shall be your 
 attendant and instructor.' Asem and his com- 
 panion travelled on in silence for some time, 
 the former being entirely lost in astonishment; 
 but at last, recovering his former serenity, he 
 could not help observing, that the face of the 
 country bore a near resemblance to that he 
 had left, except that this subterranean v\ orld 
 still seemed to retain its primaeval wildness. 
 
 ' Here,' cried Asem, ' I perceive animals of 
 prey, and others that seem only designed for 
 their subsistence ; it is the very same in the 
 world over our heads. But Imd I been per- 
 mitted to instruct our prophet, I would have 
 removed this defect, and formed no \oracious 
 or destructive animals, which only prey on 
 the other parts of the creation.' ' Your ten- 
 derness for inferior anin>als is, I find, remark- 
 able,' said the genius, smiling, ' but, with re- 
 gard to meaner creatures, this world exactly 
 resembles the other; and, indeed, for obvious 
 reasons : for the earth can support a more 
 considerable number of animals, by thrirthus 
 becoming food for each other, than if they 
 had lived entirely on the vegetable productions. 
 So that animals of different natures thus form- 
 ed, instead of lessening their multitude, subsist 
 in the greatest nuinbi r possible. But let us 
 hasten on to the inhabited country before us, 
 and see what that offers for instruction.' 
 
 They soon gained the utmost verge of the 
 forest, and entered the country inhabited by 
 men without vice ; and Asem anticipated in 
 idea the rational delight he hoped to experi- 
 ence in such an innocent society. But they 
 had scarce left the confines of the wood, when 
 they beheld one of the inhabitants flying with 
 hasty steps, and terror in his countenance, 
 from an army of squirrels that closely pursued 
 hi ii. ' Heavens !' cried Asem, ' why does he 
 fly ? What can he fear from animals so con- 
 temptible !' He had scarce spoke when he 
 pnrceived two dogs pursuing another of the 
 human species, who with equal terror and 
 haste attempted to avoid them. * This,' cried 
 Asem to his guide, ' is truly surprising ; nor 
 can I conceive the reason for so strange an 
 action.' 'Every species of animals,' leplied 
 the genins, ' has of late grown very powerful 
 in this country; for the inhabitants, at first, 
 thinking it unjust to use either fraud or force 
 in destroying them, they have insensibly 
 
ESSAYS. 
 
 879 
 
 increased, and now frequently ravage their 
 harmless frontiers.' ' But they should have 
 been destroyed,' cried Asem; 'you seethe 
 consequence of such neglect.' ' Where is 
 then that tenderness you so lately expressed 
 for subordinate animals?' replied the genius, 
 smiling; 'you seem to have forgot that branch 
 of justice.' ' 1 must acknowledge my mis- 
 take,' returned Asem ; ' 1 am now convinced 
 that we must be guilty of tyranny and injus- 
 tice to the brute creation, if we would enjoy 
 the world ourselves. But let us no longer 
 observe the duty of men to these irrational 
 creatures, but survey their connections with 
 one another.' 
 
 As they walked farther up the country, the 
 more he was surprised to see no vestiges of 
 handsome houses, no cities, nor any mark of 
 elegant design. His conductor perceiving 
 his surprise, observed, that the inhabitants 
 of this new world were perfectly content 
 with their ancient simplicity ; each had an 
 house, which, though homely, was sufficient 
 to lodge his little family ; they were too good 
 to build houses, which could only increase 
 their own pride, and the envy of the specta- 
 tor; what they built was for convenience, 
 and not for show. 'At least then,' said Asem, 
 * they have neither architects, painters, or 
 statuaries in their society ; but these are idle 
 art-, and may be spared. However, before I 
 spend much more time here, you should have 
 my thanks for introducing me into the society 
 of some of their wisest men: there is scarce 
 any pleasure to me equal to a refined conver- 
 sation; there is nothing of which I am so 
 enamoured as wisdom.' ' Wisdom,' replied 
 his instructor, ' how ridiculous! We have no 
 wisdom here, for we have no occasion for it; 
 true wisdom is only a knowledge of our own 
 duty, and the duty of others to us; but of 
 what use is such wisdom here ? each intui- 
 tively performs what is right in himself, and 
 expects the same from others. If by wisdom 
 you should mean vain curiosity, and empty 
 speculation, as such pleasures have their 
 origin in vanity, luxury, or avarice, we are 
 too good to pursue them.' ' All this may be 
 right,' says Asem, ' but methinks I observe a 
 solitary disposition prevail among the people; 
 each family keeps separately within their 
 own precincts, without society, or without j 
 
 intercourse.' ' That indeed, is true,' replied 
 the other; 'here is no established society; 
 nor should there be any : all societies are 
 made either through fear or friendship; the 
 people we are among, ere too good lo fear 
 each other; and there are no motives to pri- 
 vate friendship, where all are equally meri- 
 torious.' ' Well then,' said the sceptic, ' as I 
 am to spend my time here, if I am to have 
 neither the polite arts, nor wisdom, nor friend- 
 ship, in such a world, I should be glad at 
 least of an easy companion, who may tell me 
 his thoughts, and to whom I may communi- 
 cate mine.' ' And to what purpose should 
 either do this ?' says the genius : ' flattery or 
 curiosity are vicious motives, and never 
 allowed of here; arid wisdom is out of the 
 question.' 
 
 ' Still, however,' said Asem, 'the inhabi- 
 tants must be happy ; each is contented with 
 his own possessions, nor avariciously endea- 
 ours to heap up more than is necessary for 
 his own subsistence: each has therefore lei- 
 sure to pity those that stand in need of his 
 compassion.' He had scarce spoken when 
 his ears were assaulted with the lamentations 
 of a wretch who sat by the way-side, and. in 
 the most deplorable distress, seemed gently 
 to murmur at his own misery. Asem imme- 
 diately ran to his relief, and found him in the 
 last stage of a consumption. ' Strange,' cried 
 the son of Adam, ' that men who are free 
 from vice should thus suffer so much misery 
 without relief!' ' Be not surprised,' said the 
 v\ retch who w as dying ; ' would it not be Hie 
 greatest injustice for beings, who have only 
 just sufficient to support themselves, and are 
 content with a bare subsistence, to take it 
 from their own mouths to put it into mine ? 
 They never are possessed ofasingle meal more 
 than is necessary, and what is barely neces- 
 sary cannot be dispensed with.' 'They should 
 have been supplied with more than i^ neces- 
 sary,' cried Asem: 'and yet I contradict my 
 own opinion but a moment before: all is 
 doubt, perplexity, and confusion. Even the 
 want of ingratitude is no virtue here, since 
 they never received a favour. Th'^y have, 
 however, another excellence, yet bejjind; the 
 love of their country is still, [ hope, ons 01 
 their darling virtues.' ' Peace, Asem,' replied 
 the guardian, with a countenance not less 
 
880 
 
 ESSAYS. 
 
 severe than beautiful, ' nor forfeit all thy pre- 
 tensions to wisdom; the same selfish motives 
 by which we prefer our own interest to that 
 of others, induce us to regard our country 
 preferable to that of another. Nothing less 
 than universal benevolence is free from vice, 
 and that you see is practised here.' 'Strange!' 
 cries the disappointed pilgrim, in an agony of 
 distress; ' what sort of a world am I now in- 
 troduced to ? There is scarce a single virtue 
 but that of temperance, which they practise; 
 and in that they are no way superior to the 
 very brute creation. There is scarce an 
 amusement which they enjoy ; fortitude, 
 liberality, friendship, wisdom, conversation, 
 and love of country, all are virtues entirely 
 unknown here; thus it seems, that, to be ac- 
 quainted with vice is not to know virtue. 
 Take me, O my genius, back to that very 
 world which I have despised ; a world which 
 has Alia for its contriver is much more wisely 
 formed than that which has been projected 
 by Mahomet. Ingratitude, contempt, and 
 hatred, I can now suffer, for perhaps I have 
 deserved them. When I arraigned the wis- 
 dom of Providence, I only showed my own 
 
 ignorance ; henceforth let me keep from vice 
 myself, and pity it in others.' 
 
 He had scarce ended, when the genius, as- 
 suming an air of terrible complacency, called 
 all his thunders around him, and vanished in 
 a whirlwind. Asem, astonished at the terror 
 of the scene, looked for his imaginary world; 
 when, casting his eyes around, he perceived 
 himself in the very situation, and in the very 
 place, where he first began to repine and 
 despair; his right foot had been just advanced 
 to take the fatal plunge, nor had it yet been 
 withdrawn: so instantly did Providence strike 
 the series of truths just imprinted on his soul. 
 He now departed from the water-side in 
 tranquillity, and. leaving his horrid mansion, 
 travelled to Segestan, his native city ; where 
 he diligently applied himself to commerce, 
 and put in practice that wisdom he had 
 learnt in solitude. The frugality of a few 
 years soon produced opulence; the number 
 of his domestics increased; his friends came 
 to him from every part of the city; nor did 
 he receive them with disdain; and a youth 
 of misery was concluded with an old age of 
 elegance, affluence, and ease. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 ABDOMINAL FISH, has the ventral nearer the tail than the 
 
 pectoral fins, (J49. 
 
 Abstemious life, its great benefit, 174. 
 
 Abstinence, religiously observed long after the Reformation ; 
 Queen Elizabeth's injunction upon this head ; a heavenly institution, 
 from its benefit to individuals and advantage to society, 155 ; re- 
 markable instance of it in the sloth, 444. 
 
 Jicauihujiitrian, a name of the prickly-finned fish, 647. 
 
 Jlcurn, a shell-fish, 694 ; the shell of the acorn filled by an immove- 
 able animal, t*28. 
 
 Adriatic, its empire claimed by the republic of Venice, 68. 
 
 Jr'Jian, his account of the dreadful cavern called the Gulf of Pluto, 
 18. See Eephant, 417. 
 
 JF.tn(i, volcano in Sicily ; remarkable eruption in 1537; an account 
 f it ; the burning seen at Malta, 20 ; the quantity of matter dis- 
 charged, supposed to exceed twenty times the original bulk of the 
 mountain , walls built of materials thrown up by it, 30. 
 
 JEolipiie, an instrument to produce artificial wind ; its description, 
 and the manner of generating violent blasts, ill). 
 
 Africa, its sandy storms, 100; destroy villages and armies, 107; 
 see Animals, 207 ; has the largest and the smallest of the cow kind, 
 235 ; the ferret originally from Africa, 351. 
 
 Age, the mountains of Scotland, Wales, Auvergne, and Switzer- 
 land, furnish more instances of old age, than the plains of Holland, 
 Flanders, Germany, or Poland, 175. See fishes, 611. See Trees, 612. 
 
 Agouti, an animal found in great abundance in South America, 
 and by some called the rabbit of that continent ; it resembles the 
 rabbit, vet is different from ours, and peculiar to the new world ; its 
 description ; its ordinary food ; it has the hair and the voraciousness 
 of the hog ; eats greedily, and hides the remainder ; burrows in hol- 
 low trees ; its manner of feeding and walking ; sight and hearing ; 
 its flesh how dressed ; how hunted and forced out ol its hole ; it turns 
 in its own defence upon the hunters ; its bite and cry ; how tamed ; 
 bears two young at each litter ; breeds at least twice a year ; carries 
 its young about like a cat ; and lodges them in a tree, where they 
 soon become able to provide for themselves, 357. 
 
 Agricola, has seen hats made of mole skins, most beautiful, 372. 
 
 Agriculture, the number of hands employed in the manufacture 
 of silk, turned to agriculture, would increase the quantity of corn to 
 more than equivalent tor the diminution of national wealth in pur- 
 chasing wrought silk from other countries. See Silk-worm. 
 
 Ai, a name of the sloth ; its description, 442. 
 
 Aicurous, a great parrot ; its sagacity and docility, 527. 
 
 Aigaes-miirtes, town in France, a port in the time of St. Louis ; 
 now removed more than four miles from the sea, til. 
 
 Air, the only active agent in earthquakes, 30 ; Amonton's calcu- 
 lation of a moderate degree of heat sufficient t" give the air amazing 
 powers of expansion, 31 ; too fine for our sight, is very obvious to 
 our touch ; its elasticity ; a cubic foot of air weighs more than an 
 ounce, 87, 88 ; a hand upon the mouth of a vessel from which the air 
 has been exhausted, is violently sucked inwards, and why, 88 ; the 
 mouth of such vessel inverted being immersed, the water will rise 
 into the empty space, and fill the glass ; the manner in which this 
 is done ; water never ascends higher than thirty-two feet ; our ordi- 
 nary load of air amounts nearly to forty thousand pounds. 89 ; four 
 thousand pounds weight of air carried at one time more than at 
 another, and why ; the air contained in a nut-shell, may be dilated 
 intounknowndimensions ; the air contained in a house, may be com- 
 pressed into a cavity equal to the eye of a needle ; the increasing 
 elasticity of compressed air augmented by heat would, when expanded, 
 be sufficient for the explosion ofa world, 8!* ; one of the most compound- 
 ed bodies in nature, : 1 ; scarcely any substance resisting its corroding 
 qualities, 91 ; factitious air produced in great quantities from vege- 
 table, animal, or mineral substances ; proves a greater enemy to 
 animals than a vacuum ; a bird enclosed in artificial air, from raisins, 
 died in a quarter of a minute ; a frog, in seven minutes ; a snail put 
 into the receiver, with air of paste, died in four minutes, 93; to 
 be wholesome, should not be of one kind, but a compound of several 
 ubst-mces. !'4 ; how air contributes to the support of our lives ; dis- 
 pute upon it, 97 ; gives life and body to flame, 1*7 ; kindles fire into 
 
 NO 75 & 76. 
 
 flame, moderates the rays of light, and dissipates their violence ; con- 
 veyance of sound ; all the pleasure received from conversation or from 
 music, depends entirely upon the air ; odours are diffused by the air, 98 ; 
 vegetables, or the bodies of animals, left to putrefy , produce air in a 
 very copious manner ; it finds admission into wine or other fermented 
 liquors. and most easily into spirits of wine ; mountains, minerals. vege- 
 tables, animals, and fires, contribute to increase a current of air, 99 ; 
 a tide of air produced by the sun ami moon ; a current of air, driven 
 through a contracted space, grows more violent and irresistible, 104. 
 
 Air-Madder, in fishes, described, 610. See Fishes, &c. 610. 
 
 Air-pump, the experiment on a Curp, t>10. 
 
 Albatross, a bird of the gull kind ; ils description by Edwards ; is 
 an inhabitant of the tropical climates, and other regions, as far as 
 the straits of Magellan in the South Seas ; is the most fierce and 
 formidable of the aquatick tribe ; it chiefly pursues the flying-fish, 
 forced from the sea by the dolphins: Wiquefort's account of this 
 bird ; it seems to have a peculiar affection for the penguin, and a 
 pleasure in its society ; its nest, 578, 579. 
 
 Aibouras, a famous volcano near Mount Taurus, 29. 
 
 Alder, bares will not feed on the bark of it, 346. 
 
 Atgazel, the seventh variety of gazelles with Mr. Buffon, 251. 
 
 Aidrovandus, places the bats aiming birds, 3c3 ; he, having spent 
 a fortune to enlighten mankind, and collected more truth and false- 
 hood than any man, was reduced to want, to suffer ingratitude, and 
 to die in an hospital, 595. 
 
 Alexander's soldiers agitated by curiosity and apprehension at the 
 tides in the river Indus, 76. 
 
 Alligator, or the Cayman, a kind of crocodile, 712. 
 
 Alps, dreadful chasms found in them, 17; Pope's description ofa 
 traveller straining up the Alps, 42 ; the highest point of them not 
 above sixteen hundred toises above the surface of th'e sea, 44. 
 
 Amazons, the greatest river in the world, has its source among 
 the Andes, 42; its course from its origin in the lake of Lauri- 
 cocha, to its discharge in the Western Ocean, is more than twelve 
 hundred leagues : its discharge is through a channel of a hundred 
 and fifty miles broad, after receiving above sixty considerable 
 rivers, 63. 
 
 Ambergris, long considered as a substance found floating on the 
 sea, but since discovered to belong to the cachalot : the balls of am- 
 bergris found in all fishes of this kind, but chiefly in the oldest and 
 strongest, 624. 
 
 Ambrose, (St.) his credulity concerning the halcyon, 602. 
 
 America, exceeds in the size of its reptiles, but is inferior in its 
 quadrupeds, 211; that part of the American continent which lies 
 under the line, is cool and pleasant, 183; the cause of the tawny 
 colour of the North American Indians ; they paint their skins with 
 red ochre, and anoint them with the fat of bears, lt>4; the original 
 cause of their flat heads, 185; American wood-duck described, 598. 
 See Tapir, 214. See Quadrupeds, ib. See Dog, 387. See lints, 
 366. See Rabbits, (Syrian) 351. See Hats, 2o5. See Suruges, 
 who suppose monkies to be men, 410. See Pacoes, 434. See Mode- 
 bird, 540. 
 
 Amia, or Bonito, description of this fish, 650. 
 
 Ammodytes, or the Lance, a fish ; its description, 649. 
 
 Ammodytes, a kind of viper ; it darts with amazing swiftness, 729. 
 
 Amontons. See Air, 31. 
 
 Amour, a river of Eastern Tartary, 62 ; it receives about forty 
 lesser rivers, ib. 
 
 Ampliesbiena, or the double-headed serpent, 740. 
 
 Anarchicas, the wolf-fish, its description, 649. 
 
 Anatomists. See Apes, 205. See Lamprey, 638. 
 
 Anchovy, has no bladder, 611. 
 
 Anda'usia, gennets of that province the best, 218. 
 
 Andes, amazing chasms or fissures in them ; some of these are a 
 mile wide, and others running under ground, resemble a province, 
 17 ; the highest mountains of the world, 29 ; excellent description 
 of them by Ulloa; the Andes are by measure three thousand one 
 hundred and thirty-six toises or fathoms, above the surface of the 
 sea, 45 ; at the top no difficulty of breathing perceived, ib. ; 
 of mules going down the precipices, 227. 
 
 6 F 
 
AN1 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 AMI 
 
 Anemometr, an instrument to measure the velocity of the wind ; 
 gives no certain information of the force of a storm, 104. 
 
 Anaiira, the cat of Angora. 2ii2; the goat of Angora ; a number 
 of animals about Angora, affording liair for trade ; the camblet 
 made of such hair, 247. 
 
 Arthimu, a bird of the crane kind, of Brazil, 258 ; described ; the 
 cock and the hen prowl together ; when one dies, the other stays by 
 it, and dies also, ib. 
 
 Jlnimals, hold the first rank amidst the infinitely different produc- 
 tions the earth offers ; arc endowed with powers of motion and de- 
 fence, even those fixed to one spot ; organized beings, provided wjtli 
 some defence for their own security ; endued with life and vigour ; 
 Bouie. by nature, violent ; have their enmities and affections ; ulti- 
 mately supported upon vegetables ; those in a dry sunny climate 
 strong and vigorous ; different vegetables appropriated to the dif- 
 ferent appetites, and why ; of domestic kinds, carried from milder 
 countries into the northern climates, quickly degenerate and grow 
 Jess ; in the internal parts of South America and Africa grow to a 
 prodigious size, and why ; no^ so in the cold frozen regions of the 
 North ; the most perfect races have the least similitude to the vege- 
 table productions on which they are ultimately fed ; the meaner the 
 animal, the more local; assume different habits as well as nppear- 
 anccs, and why; some peculiar to every part of the vegetable sys- 
 tem; there are that live upon other animals; this wisely so consti- 
 tuted ; to diminish the number of animals, and increase that of vege- 
 tables, the general scope of human industry ; of the vast variety, 
 very few serviceable to man ; in a catalogue of more than twenty 
 thousand land animals, scarcely a hundred are any way useful to 
 man ; expediency of man's living upon animals as well as vegetables ; 
 Kttlc more known than that the greatest number require the concur- 
 rence of a male and female to reproduce their kind ; and these dis- 
 tinctly and invariably found to beget creatures of their own species, 
 J lit to 123; usual distinction, with respect to their manner of gene- 
 ration, into oviparous and viviparous kinds, I2. r > ; the warmth ot'tlie 
 sun. or of a stove, efficacious in bringing the animal in the egg to 
 perfection, 12C; such parts as the animal has double, or without 
 which it can live, are the latest in production, 128 ; De Graaf has 
 attended the progress and increase of various animals in the womb, 
 and minutely marked the changes they undergo, 129; that which, 
 in proportion to its bulk, takes the longest time for production, the 
 most complete when finished ; of all others, man the slowest in com- 
 ing into life, the most formidable are the least fruitful ; and why ; 
 those which bring forth many engender before they have arrived at 
 half their natural size ; approach more to perfection, whose genera- 
 tion nearly resembles that of man, 132 to 133; men and apes only 
 have eye-lashes upon the upper and lo\ver lids, all others want them 
 on the lower lid, 142; that which has most desires appears capable 
 of the greatest variety of happiness, 153; those of the forest remain 
 without food several weeks ; all endure the want of sleep and hun- 
 ger with less injury to health than man ; nature contracts the sto- 
 machs of carnivorous animals of the forest to suit them to their pre- 
 carious way of living ; but the meaner tribes are still more capable 
 of sustaining life without food, ib. ; some lower animals seem to 
 spend the greatest part of their lives in sleep, 15C ; some affected by 
 music ; instances of it, 157; those furnished with hands have more 
 understanding than others, 170; in general the large animals live 
 longer than the little, 174 ; difference between animals in a state of 
 nature and domestic tameuess, so considerable that Mr. Buffon 
 makes it a principal distinction of classes, 31)11 ; their teeth fitted to 
 the nature of their food ; and their legs as well fitted to their respec- 
 tive wants or enjoyments ; those who chew the cud have four sto- 
 machs ; several that with us have four stomachs, have but two in 
 Africa: no carnivorous animal, except the dog, makes a voluntary 
 attack but with superiority ; the stomach generally proportioned to 
 the nature of the food, or the ease with which it is obtained ; the size 
 of the intestines proportioned to the nature of the food ; few of the 
 wild sort seek their prey in the day time ; in proportion as each car- 
 nivorous animal wants strength, it uses all the assistance of patience, 
 nssirluitv, and cunning ; some animals carefully avoid their enemies 
 by placing sentinels to warn of the approach of danger, and know 
 how to punish such as have neglected their post, or been unmindful 
 of the common safety ; the wild sort subject to few alterations, and 
 in the savage state continue for ages the same, in size, shape, and 
 colour ; is otherwise when subdued and taken under the protection 
 of man ; the tame kind bears no resemblance to its ancestors in the 
 woods ; animals feeding only upon grass, rendered carnivorous ; two 
 instances, 20C to 210 ; Africa ever remarkable for the fierceness of 
 its animals ; the smallest multiply the fastest ; the larger sort bring 
 few at a time ; seldom generate till they be near their full growth ; 
 those which bring manv reproduce before they arrive at half their 
 natural size ; with ail animals, the time of their pregnancy is pro- 
 
 portioned to their size ; in all kinds the intermediate litters the most 
 fruitful ; the first and last generally produce the fewest in number 
 and worst of kind ; natural instinct to choose the proper times of 
 copulation; whatever' the natural deposition of animals, they have 
 all courage to defend their young ; instances of it ; milk in the car- 
 nivorous animals more sparing than in others ; choice of situation 
 in bringing forth, remarkable in animals, 210 to 213; the ass, in a 
 state of lameness, the most gentle and quiet of all animals, 225 ; of 
 all animals covered with hair, the ass the least subject to vermin, 
 22b' ; the zebra, the most beautiful, but the wildest animal in nature, 
 X."J? ; perfectly know their enemies, and howto avoid them ; instances 
 of it, 22!'; best method of classing animals adopted by Ray. Kiien, 
 and Linnteus, 20] ; the author's method of classing them, 909 to 
 JiM ; the carnivorous seek their food in gloomy solitude ; they are 
 sharper than the ruminating kind, and why ; ruminating animals 
 most harmless, and most easily tamed ; generally go in herds tor 
 their mutual security ; live entirely upon vegetables ; the meanest 
 of them unite in each others defence ; carnivorous animals have 
 small stomachs and short intestines; ruminating animals naturally 
 more indolent and less artful than the carnivorous kinds, and why ; 
 their bowels considered as an elaboratory, with proper vessels in it ; 
 nature enlarges the capacity of their intestines, to take in a greater 
 supply ; and furnishes thrrn with four stomachs ; the names of these 
 four stomachs ; the intestines of carnivorous animals are thin and 
 lean : but those of the ruminating sort strong, fleshy, and well 
 covered with fat ; of all others, man spends the least time in eating ; 
 of all ruminant animals the cow kind deserve the first rank, 231 to 
 232; naturalists give various names to the same, only differing in 
 accidental circumstances ; of all, except man, the cow most exten- 
 sively propagated ; greatest variety among cows ; none more hum- 
 ble and pliant of disposition ; the large kind of the torrid zone ; very 
 fond of the water ; some void their dung, when pursued ; this arises 
 rather from fear, than a desire of defence ; the number of the cow 
 kind, bv naturalists extended to eight or ten sorts, reduced to two ; 
 one animal of the cow kind, no naturalist has hitherto described ; it 
 may be added as a third species ; description of it ; all the ruminant 
 internally much alike ; those that take refuge under the protection 
 of man, in a few generations become indolent and helpless ; the 
 sheep, in a domestic state, the most defenceless and inoffensive ; 
 also the most stupid, 237 to 241 ; a great number and variety about 
 Angora; the inhabitant., drive a trade with their hair, 247; the 
 kinds actually not distinguished by the horns, colour, position of 
 the ears, or fineness of the hair, ib. ; the fat, urine, beak, and even 
 dung, of various animals, efficacious in some disorders, 250 ; of all 
 in the world, the gazelle has the most beautiful eye, 251 ; scarcely 
 one animal, except the carnivorous, that does not produce concre- 
 tions in the stomach, intestines, kidneys, bladder, or in the heart, 
 252 ; no naturalists inform us whether that which bears the musk be a 
 ruminant, or of the hog kind, 250; by a general rule* every animal 
 lives about seven or eight times the number of years it continues to 
 grow, 25!) ; of all natives of this climate, none have such a beauti- 
 tiful eye as the stag, 2(iO ; no two more nearly allied than the stag 
 and the fallow deer, yet form distinct families, and never engender 
 together, -^(i5 ; many that onr.e flourished in the world, may now be 
 extinct, 208; of all the deer kind the rein-deer the most extraordi- 
 
 only not afraid singly to make opposition to the lion, arc the ele- 
 phant, the rhinoceros, the tiger, and the hippopotamus, 2!>5 ; of all 
 American, the tiger the most formidable ami mischievous, 3111 ; the 
 generality have greater agility, greater mviftness, and more ll.rmi- 
 dable arms, from nature, than man ; and their senses, particularly 
 that of smelling, are far more perfect ; those living upon flesh hunt 
 by nature, 300; all under the influence of man, are subject to 
 great variations, 310 ; many in this country bred between a<l":r mil 
 a fox, 315; all savage, that have once tasted human flesh, never re- 
 frain from pursuing mankind. :W(i ; those of flu- north, in winter, 
 are more hairy, than those of milder climates ; and what the causn, 
 331 ; of the arctic climates, have their winter and summer gar- 
 ments, except as far north as Greenland, ib. ; of the weasel kind, 
 the martin the most pleasing, 334 ; feeding entirely upon vegeta- 
 bles, are inoffensive and timorous, 345 ; remarkable for speed ; ex- 
 cept the horse, have the hind feet longer than the fore feet ; none 
 receives the male when pregnant except the hare, 34(i ; hares the 
 only that have hair on the inside of their mouths. 347 ; few of the 
 wild kind have so many varieties as the squirrel, 351 ; all are tamed 
 more difficultly in proportion to their cowardice, 365 ; in all coun- 
 tries, civilized and improved, the lower ranks of animals repressed 
 and degraded, 38i) ; the beaver the only that in its fore parts re- 
 
APE 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 ASP 
 
 sembls a quadruped, and in its hinder parts approaches the nature 
 of fishes, ib. ; the lori of all others the longest, in proportion to 
 size, 413 ; the camel the most temperate of all, 430 ; the ostrich the 
 most voracious, 463 ; of all that use their wings and legs in running, 
 the ostrich is the swiftest, 465 ; none has greater courage than the 
 cock, opposed to one of bis own species, 495 ; the presence of man 
 destroys the society of meaner animals, and their instincts also, 5#0 ; 
 those longest in the womb, are the longest lived, according to Pliny, 
 595 ; none harder to he killed than the shark, 630 ; the snail kind 
 are hermaphrodites, 684 ; of all four-footed, the frog the best swim- 
 mer, 61)7 ; whatever kind, long under the protection of man. lose 
 part of their natural sagacity in providing for themselves, 576 ; that 
 which fills the acorn-shell is iminoveable, 828 ; a most numerous 
 tribe lately discovered, propagated by cuttings ; many entirely 
 without motion ; all seem possessed of one power, of which vegeta- 
 bles are totally deficient ; certain races of animals fall beneath ve- 
 getables, by their more imperfect propagation, 828; some live with- 
 out limbs, and often reproduce them ; some live without brain for 
 many weeks together ; some increase and grow large, though all 
 their nobler organs are entirely destroyed ; some continue to ex- 
 ist though cut in two, their nobler parts preserving lite, while the 
 others perish that were cut away ; the zoophyte tribe, continues to 
 live in separate parts, and one animal, by means of cutting, is divid- 
 ed into two distinct existences, sometimes into a thousand, C31 ; 
 the first discovery of the power of reproduction in animals owing to 
 Mr. Trembley, 831. 
 
 Antelope, tenth variety of gazelles by Mr. Burton ; its descrip- 
 tion ; the Indian antelope, 252, 253. 
 Entities. See jYttrrots, 169. 
 Antiers, their distinct names, 202. 
 Antiparos, its grotto most remarkable, 20. 
 
 Antipathy, many have it to some animals, whose presence they 
 instantly perceive by the smell, 16!* ; n" animals more alike than the 
 cow ;>nd the buffalo, yet none have stronger dislikes to each other, 
 238; dogs and wolves so different in their dispositions, that no animals 
 can have a more perfect antipathy, 31* ; the same subsists bet ween the 
 jackal and the dog, 326 ; of the mafmount to the dog. 354 ; quad- 
 rupeds which have natural antipathy against the Norway rat, 363 ; 
 between the porcupine and serpent so irreconcileable as never to 
 meet without a mortal engagement, 376. 
 
 Antiquity, most naturally looked up to with reverential won- 
 der, 191. 
 
 Anthony, (St.) lived a hundred and five years, 155. 
 Ants, every writer of antiquity describes this insect, as labouring 
 in the summer, and feasting upon the produce during the winter ; 
 in some of the warmer climates this may be so ; but in France and 
 England they are in a state of torpidity during winter ; common 
 ants of Europe ; their description ; fears not to attack a creature 
 ten times its own magnitude ; are divided into males, females, and 
 neutral or working tribe ; in what manner distinguished from each 
 other ; males and females seem no way to partake in the common 
 drudgeries of the state ; males pursue the females with great assi- 
 duity, and force them to Compliance ; remain coupled for some 
 time ; description of the ant-hills in the southern parts of Europe, 
 constructed with wonderful contrivance ; their food and excursions ; 
 their ecrjjs so very small, that upon a black ground they can scarce- 
 ly be discerned ; fond attachment of the working ants to their 
 progeny ; the aurelia state, and efforts to get rid of their skins ; ex- 
 periment of Mr. De Geer to this purpose ; state of the female after 
 she has done laying, not known ; the males then flv away, and are 
 heard of no more ; ants of the tropical climates build a hill with 
 great contrivance and regularity, lay up provisions, and, living the 
 whole year, submit to regulations entirely different from the ants 
 of Europe ; three kinds of African ants ; their hills from six to 
 twelve feet high; amazing number and regularity of their cells ; 
 depredations and adventures; they live under strict regulations a 
 order in which they sally forth ; often quit their dwelling in a body, 
 and go in quest of adventures ; an instance of it given by Smith ; 
 th j ir sting produces extreme pain, 814 to 818 ; drive the hair from 
 its form, 247 ; many animals live upon ants in Africa and 
 America, 441. 
 
 Ant-fattr, or Ant-bear, description and habits, 441 ; their art to 
 catch the ants ; manner of defence against its enemies ; kills the 
 invader, and remains fastened upon him with vindictive desperation. 
 Ant-lion, the, 768. 
 
 Antioch, buried by an earthquake, 32. 
 Aorta, the great artery, 131 
 
 Aprrea, by some the Brazilian rabbit; its description, 359. 
 Apes, have eye-lashes upon the upper and lower lids. 142; the 
 only animal possessed of hands and arms, rJ4s ; in some of the kinds 
 the resemblance to mau so striking, that anatomists are puzzled to 
 
 find in what part of the human body man's superiority consists ; 
 enjoy many advantages in common with men, above the lower 
 tribes of nature, 205 ; the foremost of the kind is the ouran-outang 
 or wild man of the woods, 399 ; description of this animal by Dr. 
 Tyson ; comparative view of this creature with man; another de- 
 scription of it by Mr. Buffon ; two young ones, only a year old, dis- 
 covered an astonishing power of imitation, 399, 400; a kind called 
 baris, properly instructed when young, serve as useful domestics; 
 Le Cornt's account of an ape in the Straits of Molucca, 401 ; the 
 long-armed ape an extraordinary and icmarkable creature, 403 ; its 
 description; a native of the Ki'.st !mln-.<i. and found along all the 
 coasts of Coromandel, 404 ; rling thi-msi'lv* from one rope to 
 another, at thirty, forty, and filly feet distance, 401 ; instances of 
 amazing ninibleness ; in a state of nature they run upon all fours ; 
 certain proof's of it, 4(13 ; in the navies of Solomon, among the ar- 
 ticles imported from the East, arc ;>]>es and peacocks, 4.'7. 
 
 .tfin'tus, noted for having taught mankind to suffocate fish in 
 Carthaginian pickle, 613 ; manner of dressing a hare in true Ro- 
 man taste, 349. 
 
 Apodal, the name of the fish without ventral fins, 647. 
 jfppndfets in the intestines of birds, 452. 
 
 Appetite, Nature, by supplying a variety, has multiplied life in her 
 productions, 471. 
 
 Arabia, its sandy tempests described, 106; men and animals 
 buried in the sands of Arabia, preserved from corruption for several 
 ages, as if actually embalmed, 195 ; the ass originally a native of 
 Arabia, 236. See' Worses, 214 to 227. See Camel, 4:iO. 
 
 Archimedes, discovered the method of determining the purity of 
 gold, by weighing in water, 55. 
 
 Arrhipelago, very good horses in its islands, 219 ; the wild ass 
 found in those islands, particularly in Cerigo, 224. 
 
 Ardebil, the pastures in those plains excellent for rearing 
 horses, 219. 
 
 Arequipa, a celebrated burning mountain in Peru, 29. 
 Argentine, description of this fish, 650. 
 
 Arion, his harp gathered the dolphins to the ship's side, 165. 
 Aristotle's opinion about the formation of the incipient animal, 
 llS ; and mules being sometimes prolific, 223. 
 
 Arlotto, an Italian Franciscan friar ; for his sleeping transgres- 
 sions taken before the Inquisition, and like to be condemned for 
 them, 15rt. 
 
 Armadillo, or Tatou, generally referred to the tribe of insects or 
 snails, 206 ; an inhabitant of South America ; a harmless creature, 
 furnished with a peculiar covering for its defence ; attacked with- 
 out danger, and liable to persecution ; is of different sizes ; in all, 
 however, the animal is partially covered with a coat of mail; a 
 striking curiosity in natural history ; has the same method of pro- 
 tecting itself as the hedgehog or pangolin ; when attacked, rolls it- 
 self Op in its shell like a ball, and continues so till the danger is 
 over ; the Indians take it in this form, lay it close to the fire, and 
 oblige it to unfold ; this animal utterly unknown before the disco- 
 very of America ; does mischief in gardens ; bears the cold of our 
 climate without inconvenience ; the mole does not burrow swifter 
 than the armadillo ; burrows deep in the earth ; expedients used to 
 force them out ; manner of taking them alive ; sometimes in snares 
 by the sides of rivers, and low moist places which they frequent ; 
 never found at a distance from their retreats ; escapes by rolling it- 
 self up, and tumbling down from rock to rock, without danger or 
 inconvenience ; its food ; scarcely any that do not root the ground 
 like a hog ; a kind friendship between them and the rattlesnake ; 
 they are frequently found in the same hole; they all resemble each 
 other, as clothed with a shell, yet differ in size, and in the division 
 of their shell ; the various kinds ; the pig-headed sort, the weasel- 
 headed, the kabassou, and the encoubert, are the largest, 380 to 382. 
 Arno, the river, a considerable piece of ground gained at the 
 mouth of it, 81, 
 
 Aru, numbers of birds of paradise seen there, 523. 
 Arsenius, tutor to the emperor Arcadius, lived an hundred and 
 twenty years, 155. 
 
 Arts, faults that have infected most of our dictionaries and com- 
 pilations of natural history, 2"4 ; teaching the arts of cruelty equi- 
 valent to committing them, 495. 
 
 Asia, aim of the Asiatics to possess many women, and to furnish 
 a seruglio their only ambition, 138 ; lustre of jewels and splendour 
 of brilliant colours eagerly sought after by all conditions of men, 145. 
 Asm Minor, description of its inhabitants, 183. 
 Asiatic, the olive-coloured, claims the hereditary resemblance to 
 our common parent ; an argument to prove the contrary, 185. 
 Asp, a kind of serpent, 73',). 
 
 Aspha -turn, an injection of petreoleum and an application of 
 asphaltum suffice to make a mummy, I'M, 
 
 6 F* 
 I 
 
AUV 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 BAR 
 
 Jlss and horse, though nearly alike in form, are distinct kinds, 
 different in natures ; with only one of each kind, both races would 
 be extinguished ; in the state of nature entirely different ; wild ass 
 in greater abundance than the wild horse ; wild ass and the zebra a 
 different species ; countries where the wild ass is found ; some run 
 so swift, few coursers can overtake them ; caught with traps ; 
 taken chiefly for the flesh and skins, which make that leather called 
 shagreen ; entertainment of wild asses in Persia seen by Olearius ; 
 the delicacy of its flesh a proverb there ; Galen deems it unwhole- 
 some ; asses originally imported into America by the Spanhrcls. 
 have run wild, and multiplied in such numbers as to be a nuisance ; 
 chase of them in the kingdom of Quito ; have all the swiftness of 
 horses ; declivities and precipices do not retard their career ; after 
 the first load their celerity leaves them, their dangerous ferocity 
 lost, and they contract the stupid look and dulness peculiar to the 
 assinine species ; will not permit a horse to live among them ; 
 always feed together ; and a horse straying where they graze, they 
 fall upon, bite, and kick him, till he be dead ; their preference to 
 any vegetable is to the plantain ; they drink as soberly as they 
 eat, and never dip the nose into the stream ; fear to wet their feet, 
 and turn out to avoid the dirty parts of a road ; show no ardour but 
 for the female, and often die after covering ; scent an owner at a 
 distance, and distinguish him in a crowd ; with eyes covered, they 
 will not stir a step ; when laid down, one eye covered with the 
 grass, and the other hidden with a stone, or other contiguous body, 
 they will not stir or attempt to rise, to get free from impediments ; 
 several brought up to perform, and exhibited at a show ; suffered 
 to dwindle every generation, and particularly in England ; bulk for 
 bulk, an ass stronger than a horse, and surer-footed ; also less apt 
 to start than the horse ; more healthy than the horse ; Persians 
 cleave their nostrils to give them more room for breathing ; Spa- 
 niards alone know the value of the ass; the Spanish jack- ass above 
 fifteen hands high; the ass originally a native of Arabia; warm 
 climates produce the largest and best ; entirely lost among us during 
 the reign of queen Elizabeth ; Hollingshead pretends our land 
 yields no asses, yet they were common in England before that time ; 
 in Sweden they are a sort of rarity ; by the last history of Norway, 
 they had not reached that country ; in Guinea, they are larger and 
 more beautiful than the horses of that country ; in Persia, are two 
 kinds, some sold for forty or fifty pounds ; no animal covered with 
 hair less subject to vermin ; live till twenty or twenty-five ; sleeps 
 less than the horse, and never lies down for it, unless much tired ; 
 she-ass crosses fire and water to protect her young ; the gimerro 
 bred between the ass and the bull ; the size and strength of our 
 asses improved by importation of Spanish jack-asses, 223 to 227; 
 destroyed by the South-American bat, called vampyre, 385. 
 
 Jlssafte/ida, savage nations delighted with the smell, 169. 
 
 Jissinlboils lake, where the river St. Lawrence takes its rise, 63. 
 
 Jlstruites, among coral substances, 838. 
 
 Atalantes, an island submersed, was as large as Asia Minor and 
 Syria ; the fruits of the earth offered without cultivation, 39. 
 
 Jtlluinatus, instance of his strength, 151. 
 
 J)t/ii:lstan, prohibited the exportation of mares and stallions, ex- 
 cept as presents, 222. 
 
 Athenians had their cock-matches, 495. See Quail-fighting, 509. 
 
 dthvrine, description of this fish, 650. 
 
 Atinosfktre, most disorders incident to mankind, says Bacon, 
 arise from changes in the atmosphere, 611. 
 
 Attraction, defined ; the sun possessed of the greatest share, 2. 
 
 Aeosr.Un, or scooper, a bird found in Italy ; now and then comes 
 over into England ; its description, and extraordinary shape of its 
 bill, 5(J7. 
 
 Aurclia, one of the appearances of the caterpillar, 784 to 787 ; 
 laying it in a warm room, Mr. Reaumur hastened the disclosure 
 of the butterfly, and by keeping it in an ice-house, retarded it ; 
 though it hears a different appearance, it contains all the parts of 
 the butterfly in perfect formation ; some insects continue under 
 that form not above ten days, some twenty, some several months, 
 others for a year together, 789 ; how the butterfly gets rid of that 
 covering, ib. ; aurelia of the bee different from that of the common 
 caterpillar, ^05. 
 
 Aurora Roreahs, or northern light, streams with peculiar lustre, 
 and a variety of colours, round the pole ; its appearance almost 
 constant in winter ; and when the sun departs for half a year, this 
 meteor supplies its beams, affording light for all the purposes of 
 existence, 113. 
 
 Aurora, or the aamiri, the smallest and most beautiful of the 
 sapajou monkeys; its description; is very tender, delicate, and 
 held in high price, 412. 
 
 .luverfinc, in France, an amazing mummy dug up at that place, 
 
 Auk, a bird bred in the island of St. Kilda, 589. 
 Jixis, a kind of beautiful stag ; its description. 265. 
 Azores, serpents, adders, and snakes, seen about these islands by 
 sir Robert Hawkins in 1590, 70. 
 
 B. 
 
 Baboon, survey of the baboon kind, 404 ; fierce, malicious, igno- 
 rant, and untractable ; its description ; impelled by a hatred for 
 the males of the human species, and a desire for women ; the 
 Chevalier Forbin relates, that in Siam, whole troops will sally forth, 
 plunder the houses of provisions, and endeavour to force the wo- 
 men ; manner of robbing an orchard or vineyard at the Cape of 
 Good Hope ; the female brings forth one at a time, carries it in her 
 arms, clinging to her breast ; at the Cape of Good Hope, the 
 young of these animals are taught to guard houses, and perform 
 the duty with punctuality ; they seem insensible of the mischief 
 they do ; a baboon described by Mr. Buffon ; lasciviousness pre- 
 dominant ; their food ; are not found to breed in our climate ; are 
 not carnivorous ; their liver, like that of a dog, divided into six 
 lobes ; the largest of the kind is the mandril ; its description ; dis- 
 pleased, it weeps like a child ; is a native of the Gold Coast ; that 
 called Wanderow chiefly seen in the woods of Ceylon and Mala- 
 bar ; its description ; the Maimon of Buffon, by Edwards called 
 the pig-tail, the last of the sort ; its description ; a native of Suma-- 
 tra, 406. 
 
 Baby, the name of a dwarf, whose complete history is very 
 accurately related by Mr. Daubenton, 189. 
 
 Babi/rouessa, the Indian hog ; its description ; travellers call it 
 the hog of Borneo ; in what manner it escapes the pursuers ; has 
 enormous tusks of fine ivory ; less dangerous than the wild boar ; 
 the tusks have points directed to the eyes, and sometimes grow 
 into them ; these animals, in a body, are seen with the wild boars, 
 with which they are not known to engender ; are easily tamed ; 
 have a way of reposing different from other animals of the larger 
 kind, by hitching one of their upper tusks on the branch of a tree, 
 and suffering their whole body to swing down at ease ; they are 
 fierce and terrible when offended, and peaceable and harmless 
 when unmolested ; their flesh good to be eaten, but said to putrefy 
 in a short time ; they chiefly live upon vegetables and the leaves 
 of trees ; are found in the island of Borneo, and in other parts of 
 Asia and Africa, 285 to 287. 
 
 Bacon's observations upon fishes, 611. 
 
 Badger, a solitary, stupid animal ; forms a winding hole, and 
 remains in safety at the bottom ; the fox takes possession of the 
 hole quitted by the badger, or forces it from the retreat by wiles ; 
 surprised by the dogs at a distance from its hole, it fights with 
 desperate resolution ; all that has life is its food ; it sleeps the 
 greatest part of its time, and though not voracious, keeps fat. par- 
 ticularly in winter; it keeps the hole very clean ; the female 
 makes a bed of hay for her young ; brings forth in summer, three 
 or four young ; how she feeds them ; the young are easily tamed ; 
 the old are savage and incorrigible ; are fond of fire, and often 
 burn themselves dangerously ; are subject to the mange, and have 
 a gland under the tail, which scents strongly ; its flesh rank and 
 ill-tasted, 438. 
 
 Ba", name of the false belly of the oppossum ; its description, 
 414. 
 
 Bug, or pouch, of the civet. See Civet, 341. 
 
 Bait, the best for all kinds of fish is fresh herring ; the larger 
 sort will take a living small fish upon the hook sooner than any 
 other bait, 634. 
 
 Balance, to determine the specific gravity of metals, 55. 
 
 Balearic crane, its description ; the real crane of Pliny ; comes 
 Jrom the coast of Africa and Cape de Verd Islands ; ha* been de- 
 scribed by the name of sea-peacock ; foreign birds of the crane 
 kind described, the jabiru, the jabiruguacu, the anhima, and the 
 buffoon-bird, 557, 558. 
 
 Ball of fire of the bigness of a bomb ; its effects, 111. 
 
 Banks of a river, after inundations, appear above water, when 
 all the adjacent valleys are overflown, and why, 59. 
 
 Banana, the elephant eats the plant to the roots, 418. 
 
 Barb, an Abrabian horse bred in Barbary, 218. 
 
 Barbs of the whale, or whale-bone, 617. 
 
 Barbary hen, its description, 503. 
 
 Barbie, a flat fish, its </rowth, 657. 
 
 Barja, in South A merica, cattle destroyed at that place by Ike 
 American bats, called vampyres, 386, 
 
 Baris. See Apes, 401. 
 
 Barnacle, imaginary, a shell-fish, 694. 
 
BEA 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 BED 
 
 5 
 
 Barometer, serviceable in measuring the height of mountains, 
 45 ; measures the weight of the air ; in what manner, 89 ; frequent 
 changes in the air without any sensible alteration in the barome- 
 ter, 90 ; when it marks a peculiar lightness in the air, no wonder 
 that it foretells a storm ; and why, 103. 
 
 Barretiere, a famous youth, considered as a prodigy of learning 
 at the age of fourteen; slept regularly twelve hours in the twenty- 
 four, 157. 
 
 Buss, a rocky island in the Frith of Forth. See Birds, 582. 
 
 Balk, persons coming out of a warm bath several ounces heavier 
 than when they went in ; warm bath of sea water, a kind of relief 
 to mariners, upon a failure of fresh water at sea, 78. 
 
 Bat., bats as biff as rabbits, 120 ; by some reckoned among 
 birds, 2116 ; doubtful among naturalists whether beast or bird, now 
 universally take place among quadrupeds, 382 ; Pliny, Gesner, 
 and Aldrovandus, placed it among birds ; scarcely in any particu- 
 lar resembles the bird, except in the power of sustaining itself in 
 the air ; description of the common sort in England ; its intestines 
 and skeleton, in some measure, resemble those of mankind ; 
 makes its first appearance early in summer, and begins its flight in 
 the evening ; is seen to skim along the surface of waters ; feeds 
 upon gnats, moths, and nocturnal insects of every kind, which it 
 pursues open-mouthed ; its flight laborious, irregular, and, if 
 interrupted, not readily followed by a second elevation ; usually 
 taken when striking against an object it falls to the ground ; even 
 in the summer, it sleeps the greatest part of the time ; its retreat ; 
 continues in a torpid state during winter ; is usually hanging by 
 its hooked claws to the roofs of caves ; unaffected by all change 
 of weather ; is destroyed particularly by the owl ; the bat couples 
 and brings forth in summer from two to five young at a time ; the 
 female has two nipples forward on the breast, as in the human 
 kind ; and this is a motive for Linnaeus to give it the title of a 
 primas, to rank it in the same order with mankind ; the female 
 makes no nest for her young ; when she begins to grow hungry, 
 and finds a necessity of stirring abroad, she takes her little ones 
 and sticks them by their hooks against the sides of her apartment, 
 and there they immoveably cling, and patiently wait her return ; 
 less similitude to the race of birds than of quadrupeds ; great 
 labour in flying, soon fatigues, and tires it in less than an hour ; 
 its petty thefts upon the fat of bacon ; long-eared bat ; horse-shoe 
 bat ; rhinoceros bat ; a large race of bats in the East and West 
 Indies truly formidable ; a dangerous enemy ; when united in 
 flocks they become dreadful ; are eaten ; the Negroes of the Afri- 
 can coast will not eat them though starving ; on the African 
 coast they fly in such numbers, as to bscure the setting sun ; the 
 rousette, or great bat of Madagascar, is found along the coasts 
 of Africa and Malabar ', where it is often seen about the size of a 
 large hen ; destroys the ripe fruits, and sometimes settles upon 
 animals, and man himself; destroys fowls and domestic animals, 
 unless preserved with the utmost cure, and often fasten upon the 
 inhabitants, attack them in the face, and make terrible wounds ; 
 the ancients have taken their idea of harpies from these fierce and 
 %'oraeious creatures, equally deformed, greedy, uncleanly, and 
 cruel ; the bat called the American vampyre ; its description by 
 IJlloa ; purport of his account confirmed bv various travellers, 
 who all agree that it has a faculty of drawing blood from persons 
 sleeping, and destroying them before they awake ; a strong 
 difficulty remains how they make the wound ; Ulloa and Buffon's 
 opinions ; suppose the animal endowed with a strong power of 
 suction ; and that, without inflicting any wound, by continuing to 
 draw, it enlarges the pores of the skin, so that the blood at length 
 passes ; they are one of the great pests of South America, 380 to 
 388 ; found in the holes deserted by the woodpecker, 520. 
 
 To bay, said of a stag when he turns his head against the 
 hounds, 2(>2. 
 
 Kiatrle. See Jlmtnd, 311. 
 
 Bi'iili. how that of animals is produced. 147. 
 
 Beam, by Irtnters meant that part which bears the antlers, 262. 
 
 Beams, those of the sun shining upon the fire put il out, and 
 why ; darting directly upon us, without the medium of the air, 
 would burn us up at once, or blind us with effulgence, 98. 
 
 Bears, in cold frozen regions of the North, not smaller than in 
 milder covintries, 120 ; the North American Indians anoint their skins 
 with fat of bears, 184. the bears now and then make depredations 
 upon the rein-deer, 277 ; in Greenland do not change colour, 278; 
 three different kinds ; the black of America does not reject animal 
 food, as believed ; places where they are found ; retreat of the 
 brown bear ; a vulgar error, that during winter the brown bear 
 lives by sucking its paws ; it seems rather to exist upon the ex- 
 uhernnce of its former flesh, 436; the male and female do not 
 inhabit the same den, and seldom are seen together, but on the ac- 
 
 cesses of genial desire ; care of the female for her young ; the bear, 
 when tamed, seems gentle and placid, yet still to be distrusted and 
 managed with caution, being often treacherous and resentful with- 
 out a cause ; is capable of a degree of instruction ; when come to 
 maturity, can never be tamed ; methods of taking them ; their 
 paws and hams a great delicacy ; the white placed in the coldest 
 climates, grows larger than in the temperate zones, and remains 
 master of the icy mountains in Spitzbergen and Greenland ; 
 unable to retreat, when attacked with fire-arms they make a 
 fierce and long resistance ; they live upon fish and seals ; their 
 flesh is too strong for food ; are often seen on ice-floats several 
 leagues at sea, though bad swimmers ; the white sometimes jumps 
 into a Greenlander's boat, and if he does not overset it, sits down 
 calmly, and like a passenger suffers itself to be rowed along ; hun- 
 ger makes it swim after fish ; often a battle ensues between a bear 
 and a morse, or a whale, and the latter generally proves victorious, 
 436, 437. 
 
 Beards, Americans taking great pains to pluck theirs up by 
 the roots, the underpart, and all but the whiskers, therefore sup- 
 posed to have no hair growing on that part ; Linnaeus himself has 
 fallen into this mistake ; different customs of men, in the manner 
 of wearing their beards, 145, 146. 
 
 Beasts are more fierce and cruel in all countries where men are 
 most barbarous, 22. 
 
 Beasts of chase, in the reign of William Rufus, and Henry tho 
 First, it was less criminal to destroy one of the human species 
 than a beast of chase ; sacred edifices thrown down, and turned to 
 waste, to make room for beasts of chase, 261. 
 
 Beasts of prey seldom devour each other ; they chiefly seek 
 after the deer or the goat ; their usual method of hunting, 208. 
 
 Beaver, known to build like an architect, and rule like a citizen, 
 210 ; its fore parts taste like flesh, and the hinder like the fish it 
 feeds on, 285 ; a remaining monument of brutal society ; its 
 qualities, taken from its fellows, and kept in solitude or domestic 
 lameness ; resists only when driven to extremity, and fights when 
 its speed cannot avail ; the only quadruped that has a flat broad 
 tail, covered with scales, serving as a rudder to direct its motions 
 in the water ; the sole quadruped with membranes between the 
 toes on the hind feet, and none on the fore feet ; the only animal 
 in its fore parts entirely resembles a quadruped, and in its hinder 
 parts approaches the nature of fishes, having a scaly tail ; its 
 description ; has but one vent for the emission of excrements and 
 urine ; they assemble about the months of June and July ; make 
 a society to continue the greatest part of the year ; form a com- 
 pany of above two hundred ; fix their abode by the side of a lake or 
 river ; cut with their teeth a tree thicker than a man's body ; 
 amazing works and mansion-houses ; convey their materials by 
 water ; mix clay and dry grass together, work it into a mortar, 
 and with their tails plaster their work within and without ; their 
 walls perpendicular, and two feet thick ; their piers fourscore or a 
 hundred feet long, and ten or twelve feet thick at the base ; their 
 dykes ten and twelve feet thick at the foundation; their apiirt- 
 ments round or oval, and divided into three stories, one above the 
 other ; visited too often by men. they work only in the night time, 
 or abandon the place, and seek a safer situation ; four hundred 
 reside in one mansion-house, divided into a number of apartments, 
 having communication with each other ; their works in the north- 
 ern parts finished in August or September ; in summer they are 
 epicures ; their provisions for the winter season ; they drive piles 
 into the earth, to fence and fortify their habitation against the 
 wind and water ; cut down branches three to ten feet in length ; 
 the largest are conveyed to their magazines by a whole body ; the 
 smallest by one only ; each taking a different way, and having a 
 walk assigned him, that no one should interrupt another in his 
 work ; wood-yards larger or smaller, in proportion to the number 
 in the family ; manner of catching them in snares or by surprise ; 
 they swim with their mortar on their tails, and their stakes between 
 their teeth ; their works damaged by force of water, or feel of 
 huntsmen, instantly repaired, 389 to 391. 
 
 Iliiiuti/, every country has peculiar ideas of beauty ; extraordi- 
 nary tastes for beauty, 139 ; every nation, how barbarous soever, 
 has peculiar arts of heightening beauty ; several of these arts, 
 140 ; a modern lady's face formed exactly like the Venus of Me- 
 dicis, or the sleeping Vestal, would scarcely be considered as a 
 beauty, except by the lovers of antiquity ; less in the object than 
 in the eye of the beholder ; superior beauty of our ancestors not 
 easily comparable, 102. 
 
 Beccajigo, a bird of the sparrow kind, 357. 
 
 Bed, of a river, an increase of water there increases its rapidity, 
 except in cases of inundation, and why ; such bed left dry for 
 some hours by a violent storm blowing directly against the stream. 
 60,61. 
 
BEE 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 BIR 
 
 Beds, the earth every where in beds over beds, and each :( 
 them maintaining exactly the same thickness, 17. 
 
 See, a ruminating insect, or seemingly so ; its stomach is com- 
 posed of muscular libres,232 ; operations studied ibr two thousand I 
 years, are still incompletely known ; Reaumur's account sufficiently ! 
 wonderful ; many of the facts held dubious by those conversant 
 with the subject; some declared not to have existence in nature; |! 
 three different kinds of bees ; common working bees neither male nor ' 
 female ; queen bees lay all the eggs that are hatched m a season ; 
 structure of the working bee, particularly of its trunk, which ex- 
 tracts the honey from flowers ; manner of building their cells ; in 
 one day, they make cells upon each other enough to contain three 
 thousand bees ; description of those cells ; the combs made by insen- 
 sible degrees, not at once, as some imagine ; the cells for the young 
 and for the drones ; that for the queen bee the largest of all ; those 
 for honey are deeper than the rest ;, that not the only food upon 
 which they subsist ; manner of anticipating the progress of vegeta- 
 tion ; the bee has a stomach for wax as well as honey ; bee bread ; 
 treacle for food of bees in winter ; what part of the flower has the 
 honey ; sting of the bee ; any wanting i'ood, bends down its trunk 
 to the bee from whom it is expected, which then opens its honey- 
 bag, and lets some drops fall into the other's mouth ; numerous as 
 the multitude of bees appears in a swarm, they all owe their origin 
 to one parent, called the queen-bee ; opening the body of a queen, 
 the eggs at one time found to amount to five thousand ; the queen 
 easily^ distinguished from the rest ; great fertility of the queen, and 
 the great attention paid to her, controverted by recent observers; 
 thev leave a cell to every egg, and destroy the rest; great care and 
 affe'ction for the young ; in about twenty days aller the egg was 
 laid, the bee was completely formed, and fitted to undergo the fa- 
 tigues of its state ; the cell being prepared, the animal soon trims- 
 formed into an aurelia different from that of the common caterpillar ; 
 when they begin to break their prisons, above a hundred are ex- 
 cluded in one day ; dreadful battles ol'tun ensue between the young 
 brood and the progenitors ; signs previous to their migrations ; alter 
 the migration, the queen being settled, the swarm follows, and in a 
 quarter of an hour the whole body is at ease ; sometimes sacrifice 
 their queen, but never when the hive is full of wax and honey ; the 
 working sort kill the drones in the worm-state, in the cell, and eject 
 their bodies from the hive among the general carnage ; upwards of 
 forty thousand bees found in a single hive ; instances of expedition 
 in working ; in the first fifteen days, they make more wax than 
 during the rest of the year ; a hive sending out several swarms in 
 the year, the first always the best and most numerous; a kind of 
 floating bee-house used in France, 600 to 007. 
 
 Bees, in other countries ; in Guadaloupe are less by half than in 
 Europe, and have no sting ; sometimes there are two or three queens 
 to a swarm ; then the weaker deserted for the more powerful protec- 
 tor ; the deserted queen does not survive the defeat ; is destroyed 
 by the jealous rival ; and till this be done, the bees never go out to 
 work ; at Guadaloupe their cells are in hollow trees, sometimes with 
 a sort of waxen-house, shaped like a pear, in which they lodge their 
 honey, and lay thinr eggs ; their honey never congeals, is fluid as 
 oil, and has the colour of amber ; in the tropical climates are black 
 bees without a sting ; their wax is soft, and only used for medicinal 
 purposes, not being hard enoiigh for candles, as in Europe ; whether 
 the humble-bees have a queen or not, there is one much larger than 
 the rest, without wings, without hair, all over black, like polished 
 ebony ; this views all the works from time to time ; their habits ; 
 the honey gathered by ihe humble-bees neither so fine, so good, nor 
 the wax so clear, or so capable of fusion, as those of the common 
 bees, 807, 808. 
 
 Bees, Leaf-cutting, make their nest, and lay their eggs, among 
 bits of leaves, 808. 
 
 Bees, Wall, so called, because they make their nests in walls ; the 
 male and females are of a size ; the former without a sting, BO!*. 
 
 Bee, Wouil, 80H ; Bee, Mas:/n, liee, Ground, builds its nest in the 
 earth ; the patience and assiduity of their labour, ib. 
 
 Beetles, a ruminating insect, or seems to ruminate, 232 ; their ge- 
 neral characteristics ; their kuids distinguished from each other ; de- 
 scription of the sexes; dor-beetle, or the May-bug ; how the two in the 
 May-bug are distinguished from each other ; season of their coupling ; 
 the female bores a hole into the ground, where to deposit her bur- 
 den ; and when lightened of it, ascends from the hole to live as be- 
 fore ; their eggs ; description of the insect, and of its manner of 
 life in the worm-state ; continues in that state for more than three 
 years, changing every year its skin ; and living under the ground 
 without eyes ; in what manner it assumes the Form of a chrysalis ; 
 time when it becomes winged, and completely formed ; the old one 
 never survives the season ; and dies from the severity of cold in 
 yrinter ', its habits and food, when completely formed ; number of 
 
 their eggs ; rooks and hogs particularly fond of them, and devour 
 them in great numbers ; instances of great devastations made bv 
 the May-bug ; description and habits of that beetle which the 
 Americans call the tumble-dung ; the insect called the king of the 
 beetles ; description of the elephant-beetle, the largest of this kind 
 hitherto known, t<18 to ?2I. 
 
 lirififtirs, a question in the schools, which the most happy man, 
 the beggar by night, and the king by day ; or the beggar by day, 
 and king by night, J57. 
 
 l,i Idler,' (Mr.) See Stood, 173. 
 
 Be.ll, the great diving-bell improved by Dr. Halley ; lie could 
 write or read in it when the sea was clear, and especially when the 
 sun shone. Nj. 
 
 Hell, when the stag cries, he is said tu liell, 262. 
 
 Belli, their vibrations not heard under the receiver of an air- 
 pump, 98. 
 
 JJclly, a minute description of the false belly of the oppossum, 414. 
 
 Berries, the Laplanders drink water, in which juniper-berries 
 have been infused, J7'J. 
 
 lincaiter, or the sai, a monkey of the new continent, 412. 
 
 Bezoar, German bezoar, 2C>2. 
 
 Bizuar-goat, the oriental bezoar, 251 ; cow-bezoar, monkey-be- 
 zoar, and hog-bezoar, 2T>2. 
 
 HUIitin", a name given by the huntsmen to the excrement of the 
 fox, 323. 
 
 Jiirclt, hares are particularly fond of it, 34t>. 
 
 Birds, all produced from the egg, 120 ; their lower eye-lid alone 
 has motion, 142 ; have the neck longer than any other kind of ani- 
 mals; those which have short claws have also short necks, those 
 that have long claws have the neck in proportion, 147 ; have a power 
 of discharging food to feed their young ; ruminating birds, 232 ; 
 many kinds which the dog will not touch, 317 ; hunters often in- 
 formed by the birds of the place of retreat of the fox, 324 ; a flock 
 of small birds often alarms every thicket, and directs the hunter to 
 the martin, 33G; formed fur a life of escape ; surpass fishes and in- 
 sects in the structure of their bodies, and in sagacity ; their anatomy 
 and conformation ; compared to a ship making way through water ; 
 are furnished with a gland behind containing a proper quantity of 
 oil ; to what purpose ; description of their feathers ; the pectoral 
 muscles of quadrupeds trifling to those of birds ; choose to rise 
 against the wind, and why ; all except the nocturnal have the heads 
 smaller, and less in proportion to the body, than quadrupeds ; their 
 sight exceeds most other animals, and excels in strength and preci- 
 sion ; have no external ear standing out from the head ; the feathers 
 encompassing the ear-holes supply the defect of the exterior ear ; 
 the extreme delicacy of their sense of hearing is easily proved by 
 their readiness in learning tunes, or repeating words, and the exact- 
 ness of their pronunciation ; their delicacy in the sense of smelling ; 
 instances of it in ducks; the tail guides their flight like a rudder, 
 and assists them either in the ascent or descent ; wonderftil internal 
 conformation; the wind-pipe often makes many convolutions within 
 the body of the bird, and is then called the labyrinth; of what use 
 these convolutions are, no naturalist has been able to account ; this 
 difference obtains in birds to all appearance of the same species ; 
 whence some derive that loud and various modulation in their 
 warbling is not easily accounted for ; birds have much louder voices 
 in respect to their bulk than animals of other kinds ; all have pro- 
 perly but one stomach, but different in different kinds ; the organs 
 of digestion in a manner reversed in birds; why they pick up sand, 
 
 f ravel, and other hard substances ; most have two appendices or 
 lind-guts ; in quadrupeds always found single ; all birds want a 
 bladder for urine ; their urine differs from that of other animals ; 
 effects of the annual moulting which birds suffer ; their moulting- 
 time artificially accelerated, and how ; the manner in which nature 
 performs the operation of moulting ; their moulting-season ; many 
 live with fidelity together for a length of time ; when one dies, 
 the other shares the same fate soon after ; the male of wild birds ae 
 happy in the young brood as the female ; nothing exceeds their pa- 
 tience while hatching ; Addison's observations to this purpose ; great 
 care and industry in providing subsistence for their young ; they 
 feed eacli of the young in turn, and why ; perceiving their nests or 
 young to have been handled, they abandon the place by night, and 
 provide a more secure, though less commodious retreat ; the young 
 taught the art to provide for their subsistence ; those hatched and 
 sent out earliest in the season the most strong and vigorous, 448 to 
 4(il ; they endeavour to produce early in the spring, and why ; ef- 
 forts for a progeny when their nests are robbed ; such as would have 
 laid but two or three eggs, if their eggs be stolen, will lay ten or 
 twelve ; the greatest number remain in the districts where they 
 have been bred ; and are excited to migration only by fear, climate, 
 or hunger ; cause of the annual emigrations of birds ; limes of mi- 
 
BIR 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 BLO 
 
 grations ; in what order performed ; follow the weather rather than 
 the country, and go on as they perceive the atmosphere more suita- 
 ble to tlieir wants and dispositions ; in all countries, longer-lived 
 thaji quadrupeds or insects of the same climate; surprising age of 
 swans and geese ; plumage and voice of birds in different zoin-s . all 
 
 in quadrupeds ; the greatest of one class surpass the greatest 
 of the other in magnitude ; causes of the great variety in the middle 
 order of birds ; the ostrich is the greatest of birds ; the humming- 
 bird the smallest ; wild birds generally of the same magnitude and 
 shape ; inferior to quadrupeds in docility ; the number already 
 known above eight hundred ; difference between land-birds and 
 water-fowls ; description of birds of the rapacious kind ; the pie 
 kind ; the poultry kind ; the sparrow kind ; the duck kind , the crane 
 kind. 4.")C> to 4(11 ; the cormorant the best fisher ; the nauseous bird, 
 or dodo ; powers of land-birds of the rapacious kind to obtain their 
 food ; sight of such as prey by day surprisingly quick ; such as 
 ravage by night have their sight fitted to see in darkness with pre- 
 cision ; inhabit the most lonely places and desert mountains ; ap- 
 pearing in cultivated plains, or the warbling groves, is for depreda- 
 tion ; every order of carnivorous birds seek for those of the size ap- 
 
 ing tlieir own ; the carnivorous kinds only breed annually, 
 and are less fruitful than others ; breed but few at a time ; where 
 supplies of food are difficult, the old soon drive the brood from the 
 nest to shift for themselves, and often destroy them in a fury caused 
 by hunger ; almost all birds of prey unsociable ; the male and fe- 
 male, when necessary to each other, live together, but they most 
 usually prowl alone ; birds with crooked beaks and talons are soli- 
 tary ; all males of prey are less and weaker than the females ; the 
 females are of a greater size, more beautiful and lovely for shape ij 
 and colours, stronger, more fierce, and generous, than the males ; it jj 
 may be necessary to be thus superior, to provide for herself and her | 
 young ; these birds are lean and meagre ; their flesh is stringy and 
 ill-tasted, soon corrupting, and flavoured of that animal upon which |i 
 they subsist ; Belonius asserts, many people like the flesh of the jj 
 vulture and falcon, and dress them for eating ; and that the osprey, j 
 when young, is excellent food ; five kinds of land-birds of the rapacious I 
 nature ; whence their distinctive mark ; bird of heaven, name given by |! 
 the ancients to the eagle ; two children carried off by eagles, 471) to I 
 474; the most formidable birds of prey respect the butcher-bird, 
 486; the digestion of such as live upon mice, lizards, or the like 
 food, not very perfect, 4tfO ; Father Kircher set the voice of birds 
 to music, 490 ; domestic birds of the poultry kind, maintained in our 
 yards, are of foreign extraction, 492 ; the wilder species, cooped or 
 caged, pine away, grow gloomy, and some refuse all sustenance ; 
 the poultry kind'alone grow fat, 403 ; climate, food, and captivity, 
 three very powerful agents in the alteration of the habits, and the 
 very form of birds ; of all birds the cock the oldest companion of 
 mankind, and the first reclaimed from the forest, 494 ; also the Per- 
 sian bird of Aristophanes, ib. ; description of the tamis, or the bird 
 of Numidia. 503 ; the bustard the largest land-bird, native of Bri- 
 tain, 504 ; none secures its young better from external injury 
 than the toucan, 518; God's bird, the bird of paradise, 023 ; para- 
 keets the most beautiful in plumage, and the most talkative 
 birds in nature, 528 ; the pigeon, for its size, has the largest 
 crop, 530 ; small birds the greatest favourites of man ; mark 
 out a territory to themselves, which they permit none of their 
 own species to remain in ; at some seasons of the year, all small 
 birds migrate from one country to another, or from more in- 
 land provinces towards the shore: months of their migrations; 
 autumn the principal season for catching those wanderers ; the nets, 
 and the method of catching them ; flur-birds ; singing among birds 
 universally the prerogative of the male ; small birds fight till one 
 yields his life with the victory ; two male birds strive in song, till 
 the loudest silences the other; during the contention, the female 
 sits an attentive silent auditor, and often rewards the loudest 
 songster with her company during the season ; the male, while his 
 mMte is hatching, sits upon some neighbouring tree, to watch and 
 to sing ; the nest of small birds warmer than of larger ; small birds 
 having finished their nests, nothing exceeds the cunning they em- 
 ploy to conceal it ; worms and insects the first food of all birds of 
 the sparrow kind ; how birds of the sparrow kind bring forth and I! 
 hatch their young ; manner of life durinc the rigours of winter ; 
 the male of small birds not finding a mate of his own species, flies ' 
 to one of another, like him, It-it out. in pairing ; a mixed species be- 
 tween a gold-finch and a canary-bird, between a linnet and a lark ; 
 these breed frequently together, and produce not,, like the mules 
 among quadrupeds, a race incapable of breeding again, hut one as 
 frirtful as thi-ir parents : various birds of the sparrow kind; many 
 plants propagated from the depositions of birds ; many of those kinds, 
 which are <>f passage in England, permanent in other countries ; 
 and some with us constant residents, in other kingdoms have the 
 
 nature of birds of passage : instances of it, 533 to 538 ; the heroa 
 commits tlic greatest devastation in fresh waters, r>b'U ; the flamingo 
 has the largest tongue, 5t>ti ; binis of various sorts and sizes, more 
 than the stars in a serene night, seen in the rock of' the Bass and in 
 the Frith of Forth, 5p<{ ; none make a more indifferent figure upon 
 land, or a more beautiful in the water, than the swan, 593; of all 
 birds known it is the longest in the shell, 505 ; the duck, reared 
 under a hen, despises the admonitions of its leader; an inconli-sti- 
 blo proof that birds have their manners rather from nature than 
 education, 507. 
 
 Bird-catchrrs sport by counterfeiting the cry of the owl, 490 ; 
 nets for, and method of taking small birds, 5:14. 
 
 Kison and lirus, names of descendants of one common 
 error of the naturalists upon this point ; the cow and bison are ani- 
 mals oi the same kind ; description of the bison ; it is supposed by 
 Klein and Buffon no more than another name for the bonasus : th-- 1 
 breed found in all the southern parts of the world ; that breed more 
 expert and docile than ours ; many bend their knees to take burdens 
 up, or set them down ; the respect for them in India degenerated 
 into adoration ; it is nimble of foot ; it is esteemed by the Hotten- 
 tots ; assists them in attending their flocks, and guarding them 
 against invaders ; is taught to combat the enemies of the nation, and 
 every army of the Hottentots is furnished witli a herd of them ; they 
 procure the Hottentots an easy victory before they strike a blow ; 
 lives in the same cottage with its master, and when it dies, a new 
 one is chosen to succeed it by a council of the old men of the vil- 
 lage, and is then joined with a veteran of its own kind, from v, I 0111 
 itlearns, becomes social and diligent, and is taken for life into friend 
 ship and protection ; the bisons are found to differ from each u1tr:'i 
 in several parts of the world; some have horns, and some are with- 
 out ; they are equally tractable and gentle when tamed, and are fur- 
 nished with a fine, lustrous, soft hair, more beautiful than that of 
 our own breed ; their hump of different sizes, weighing from forty 
 to fifty pounds, more or less ; cuts and tastes somewhat like a 
 dressed udder ; the bisons of Malabar, Abyssinia, Madagascar, Ara- 
 bia, Asia, Africa, and America ; in the course of a few generations, 
 the hump wears away ; its description ; the bison and the cow 
 breed among each other ; the grunting or Siberian cow, and thu 
 little African cow, or zebu, are different races of the bison, 235 
 to 237. 
 
 Bitch, a pregnant bitch, so placed by Mr. Buffon that her puppies 
 were brought forth in warm water, 133; one forgotten in ,-i 
 try house lived forty days without any other nourishment thai: tho 
 wool of a quilt she had torn to pieces, 317. 
 
 Bittern, or mire-drum, the solemnity of its evening-call cannot l,o 
 described by words ; hey are calls to courtship or of connubial lo- 
 licity ; it differs from the heron chiefly in colour ; its wind-pipe 
 fitted for the sound ; opinions concerning the cause of its boomings ; 
 never utters its call in domestic captivity ; its residence ; a retired 
 timorous animal ; its food, nest, and eggs ; in three days, leads its 
 little ones to their food; differences between the bittern and thn 
 heron ; its hollow boom considered by the vulgar as the pie^'ire i 
 some sad event ; instance of it ; its flesh greatly esteemed by the 
 luxurious ; it seldom rises but when almost trode upon ; at the kil- 
 ter end of autumn, in the evening, its wonted indolence forsakes it ; 
 is then seen rising in a spiral ascent, till quite lost from the view, 
 making a singular noise different from its lornicr boomings; names 
 given to this bird by the Greeks and Latins, 5<i2. 5KII. 
 
 Biralre shells, 070; all Ilie kinds hermaphrodite, yet require no 
 assistance towards impregnation, 687 ; it is particularly hi these 
 shell-fish that pearls are found, ti91. 
 
 Blackbird, of the sparrow kind, 537 ; sometimes seen all over 
 white ; its eggs and nest, 539. 
 
 Black-cap, bird of the sparrow kind, 538 ; prized by some for its 
 singing, and is also called the mock nightingale, 543. 
 
 Blacks, conjectural opinion that the blacks are a race of people 
 bred from one man accidentally black. 1^3 ; the climate a cause*ob- 
 vious and sufficient to produce blackness ; nothing satisfactory dis- 
 covered upon the cause of producing it in human complex ions ; 
 opinion of Sir Thomas Brown upon the subject. lt J 4 ; win-nee 
 originally tlieir flat noses, 1S5 ; black parents have procreated two 
 \vlnte Negroes, ib. 
 
 Bladder, birds have no bladder for urine, 45'i. Sre l-'is!.ts. (ill, C12. 
 
 Blcnnius. or blenny, description of this ti*h. til'.?. 
 
 J! : iii</. such as live in countries generally covered with snow be- 
 come blind, 103 ; the mole not blind, 371. 
 
 BlmdKorm, its description, 740. 
 
 Blood, arterial blood immediately mixed with air in the lungs, 
 is of a fine florid scarlet colour ; that of the veins returning to the 
 heart, is of a blackish crimson hue ; whence this difference f colour 
 proceeds not well understood) 97; the blood circulates through the 
 
BRA 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 BUP 
 
 bones, as through every other part of the body; Mr. Belcher the 
 first who discovered it; his experiment to this purpose, 173; blood 
 of the rein-deer preserved in small casks for sauce with the mar- 
 row in spring, 277 ; the heat of the blood in man and other 
 animals above thirty degrees above congelation ; in the marmout, 
 and other animals which sleep the winter, it is not above ten de- 
 grees, 357. 
 
 Blue-bird described ; its residence ; is rarely caught ; its docility ; 
 speaks and whistles at the word of command ; manner of taking 
 it, 539. 
 
 Blue Cat described, 291. 
 
 Blushing, whence it proceeds, 144. 
 
 Boar, wild, varies not his colour as dogs of the domestic kind ; 
 description ; he ploughs the ground like a furrow ; his tusks seen 
 almost a foot long ; they differ from those of the elephant in that 
 they never fall ; when the lioars come to a state of maturity, they 
 dread no single creature ; their position when attacked, 27!) ; the 
 manner of hunting them ; when killed, the testicles cut off to pie- 
 vent their tainting the flesh, 280 ; was formerly a native of our 
 country ; William the Conqueror punished with the loss of their 
 eyes such as killed it in his forests ; at present the wild breed is ex- 
 tinct, 282 ; the Canary boar described ; the tusks being broken 
 away, the animal abates its fierceness and venery, and nearly the 
 game effect as castration is produced, 287 ; does not fly at the ap- 
 proach of the lion ; combat of a lion and a wild boar, in a meadow 
 near Algiers, 295. 
 
 BobaK, name of the marmout in Poland, 358. 
 
 Bodies, why some light bodies swim, and ponderous bodies sink ; 
 the deeper a body sinks, the greater the resistance of the depressed 
 fluid beneath; how then, after it has got a certain way, it does 
 sink at all, 55, 56 ; animal bodies left to putrefy, produce air co- 
 piously, 98 ; symmetry of the human body ; the body of a well- 
 shaped man ought to be square, 140; human body often found to 
 differ from itself in size ; instance of it ; the cause ; differs also from it- 
 self in weight, 149 ; those parts furnished with the greatest quantity 
 of nerves, are first in formation, 15!) ; the tone of a sonorous body 
 made to depend upon the number of its vibrations, and not the 
 force, is taking an effect for a cause, 164 ; suffering is but to a cer- 
 tain degree ; torture becoming excessive, destroys itself ; and the 
 mind ceases to perceive, when the body can no longer endure, 170. 
 
 Boerhaave taxed with marking out to his pupils a little ridge of 
 hills in Holland, as mountains of no small consideration, 40. 
 
 Boiguacu, the largest of the serpent kind in South America ; 
 sometimes forty feet in length, 120; description of this creature, 741. 
 
 Bonasus, supposed by Klein and Buffou another name for the 
 bison, 236. 
 
 Bones, in the embryo, almost as soft as the muscles and flesh, 
 173 ; hard as the bones seem, the blood holds its current through 
 them, as through other parts of the body ; in old age more solid, 
 also more brittle, and why, ib. ; fossil bones found on the banks of the 
 Ohio, in Peru and Brazil, 424. See Blood, 173. See Bread, 179. 
 See Fish, 651. 
 
 Bonet- Chinois, Mr. Buffon's name of a monkey, supposed to be a 
 variety of that called malbrouk, 411. 
 
 Bonito, description of this fish, 650. 
 
 Booby, name given by our seamen to birds of the penguin tribe, 
 589. 
 
 Borandians, description of them, 178. 
 
 Boristhtnes, or Nieper, a river, its course and source, 61. 
 
 Borneo, the natives hunt the ouran-outang in the same manner 
 as the elephant or the lion, 403. 
 
 Boror/t, in the kingdom of Cambaya, flocks of peacocks seen in 
 the fields near that city, 4!I8. 
 
 Bosphorus, (the Thracian) was the first appropriated, by grant- 
 ing to such as were in possession of its shore the right of fishing 
 in~"it. 68. 
 
 Bottom of the Red Sea, a forest of submarine plants, 85 ; that of 
 the sea in some parts not found, and why ; that of the sea near 
 America covered with vegetables ; a map of the bottom of the sea 
 between Africa and America, by M. Buache, ib. 
 
 Borneo, island in the East Indies, where the babyrouessa, or In- 
 dian hog, is principally found ; hog of Borneo, the name given by 
 travellers to the babyrouessa, 285. 
 
 Bowels, of the ruminating animals considered as an elaboratory 
 with vessels in it, 231 
 
 Boyuna, of Ceylon, a kind of serpent, a great favourite among 
 the natives. 741. 
 
 Brain and spiral marrow the first seen in the embryo, 159 ; earth- 
 worm entirely without it, 829 ; some animals live without their 
 brains for many weeks together, 830. 
 
 Bramhling, a bird of the sparrow kind, 537, 538. 
 
 Brarnms of India have a power of smelling equal to most crea- 
 tures ; they smell the water they drink, though to us quite in- 
 odorous, 169. 
 
 Brasil, black clothes worn there soon turn of an iron-colour ; 
 kept in the shops, preserve their proper hue, 92 ; duck described. 
 51 '8. 
 
 Bread, twelve ounces of it, and nothing but water, the common 
 allowance for four and twenty hours, among the primitive Chris- 
 tians of the East, 155 ; that of the Laplanders composed of bones 
 of fishes, pounded and mixed with the inside tender bark of the 
 pine-tree, 179. 
 
 Bream, description of the sea bream, 648. 
 
 Breasts in women larger than in men ; milk found in the breasts 
 of men as well as of women, 147 ; black women's breasts, after 
 bearing one child, hang down below the navel ; it is customary 
 among them to suckle the child at their backs, throwing the breasts 
 over the shoulder, 182. 
 
 Breath of the lion is very offensive, 295 ; manner of breathing 
 in fishes, tiO!>. 
 
 Breeze, constant breeze produced by the melting of snows, 101 ; 
 from sea increases gradually till twelve, sinks away, and totally 
 hushed at five ; upon its ceasing, the land breeze begins, increases 
 till twelve at night, and is succeeded 'n the morning by the 
 sea-breeze ; cause of these two breeze; ; sometimes the sea and 
 land-breezes come at all hours ; the land and sea-breezes on the 
 coast of Malabar and at Congo, 102. 
 
 Brisson, his method of classing animals, 201. 
 
 Bristol, a citizen of it who ruminated his food, 232. 
 
 Britons, the ancient, considered the hare as an unclean animal, 
 and religiously abstained from it, 348 ; the cock a forbidden food 
 among them, 494. 
 
 Broches, the horns of the stag the first year, 2C2. 
 
 Brock, the stag of the third year, 202. 
 
 Brown (Sir Thomas) hoped one day to produce children by the 
 same method as trees, 126 ; his opinion upon the cause of black- 
 ness in human complexions, 184. 
 
 Brun (Le) giving a painter directions about the passions, place* 
 the principal expressions of the face in the eye-brows, 142. 
 
 Brush, the name given by huntsmen to the tail of the fox, 323. 
 
 Brutes, in those countries where men are most barbarous and 
 stupid, are most active and sagacious, 357. 
 
 Bulia/HS, an animal partaking of the mixed natures of the cow, 
 
 been called the 
 
 Bubalus of the ancients, supposed of the cow kind by Buffon, 
 placed among the lower class of ruminant quadrupeds, 230'. 
 
 Buccinums, one or two of them viviparous. 6rt4. 
 
 Buck, capable of propagating at the age of one year ; one buck 
 sufficient for a hundred and fifty goats ; is enervated in four years 
 at most ; becomes old before his seventh year, 246 ; hunting the 
 buck and the stag performed in the same manner in England, 262; 
 number of names invented by hunters for this animal ; does not 
 change his layer like the stag ; manner of hunting him is much 
 the same as that of stag hunting, 266. 
 
 Buck-goat produces with the ewe an animal that, in two or three 
 generations, returns to the sheep, retaining no marks of his an- 
 cient progenitor, 241. 
 
 Buffalo, of the varieties of the cow kind, but two are really 
 distinct, the cow and the buffalo ; they bear antipathy to each 
 other ; they do not breed among each other, and no animals aro 
 more distinct and like each other less ; are in abundance in Gui- 
 nea and Malabar ; it is a great swimmer ; description of it ; the 
 veal of the young is not better eating than the beef of the old ; 
 they are natives of the warmer climates ; yet are bred in several 
 parts of Europe, particularly in Italy ; the female produces one at 
 a time ; continues pregnant for twelve months ; is afraid of fire ; 
 leather made of its hide is well-known for thickness, softness, and 
 impenetrability ; guided by a ring thrust through the nose ; milk 
 of the female not so good as that of the cow ; two buffaloes yoked 
 draw more thnn four strong horses ; its flesh hard and blackish, 
 disagreeable to taste and smell ; this animal wild in many parts of 
 India, and dangerous ; manner of hunting them ; when tamed, 
 no animal more patient or humble ; inferior in size only to the 
 elephant, the rhinoceros, or hippopotamus; the camelopard, or 
 camel, if taller, neither so long, nor so corpulent ; is fond of the 
 water, and crosses the largest rivers without difficulty ; has an 
 aversion to red colours tlint resemble flame; in those countries 
 where they are in plenty no person dresses in scarlet ; they make 
 most use of their feet in combat, and rather tread their enemies to 
 death than gore them, 236 to 239. 
 
BUT 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 CAM 
 
 Buffon, (M.) his theory of the earth, and a detail of it, 10, 11 ; 
 questions that might, he asked this most ingenious philosopher con- 
 cerning his theory of the earth ; he has brought together a multi- 
 tude of facts relative to the history of the earth, 11 ; his system 
 about the rudiments of animals, 124 ; objections against it, ib. ; 
 thinks that women never become bald, 142 ; his description of 
 the first sensations of a man just brought into existence, pointing 
 out the steps by which lie arrived at reality, 171, 172. 
 
 Buffoon-bird, name our sailors gave the Numidian crane ; its pe- 
 culiar gestures and contortions ; the French call it demoiselle ; is 
 a vcrv scarce bird ; the ancients have described a buffoon-bird, but 
 not meant the Numidian crane, 5.71. 
 
 Jliii;, the May-bug. See Beetles. 
 
 Bugs, their habits; described ; are often found coupling tail to 
 tail ; manner of destroying them ; they devour fleas, and devour 
 each other. 7 .">('>. 7~i~. 
 
 Hn'hous. h;iir is so at the root, 143. 
 
 liii'in. :: BeOHHiail, performs the office of male and female at the 
 same time, (''">. 
 
 li/ili, tlic gimerro asserted to be between the ass and the bull, 220. 
 
 ISii'fmch, bird of the sparrow kind, 538, 539 ; may be taught to 
 whistle to a regular tune, 540. 
 
 llitil-lninl, description of this fish, 206. 
 
 Hulls, thu wild, in Spain mean despicable animals ; have nothing 
 of that sternness of aspect remarkable in our bulls, 2'.iO. 
 
 llu/l.'f-1-iif:, thu name given by sailors to a terrible hurricane ; 
 described, 105. 
 
 Hunting, bird of the sparrow kind, 537. 
 
 Jluniet, his theory of the earth ; a detail of that work, 7, 8. 
 
 I'.iistard, the largest land-bird that is a native of Britain ; inha- 
 bits the open and extensive plain ; is much larger than the turkey, 
 tho male generally weighing from twenty -five to twenty -seven 
 pounds; its description ; places where frequently seen in flocks of 
 \\i\\- or mor:; ; its food ; they have sentinels ahvavs placed at pro- 
 inenccs, ever on the watch, to warn the flock of the appear- 
 ance of danger ; are often run-down by greyhounds ; in what man- 
 n ir . I wander above twenty or thirty miles from home ; 
 
 lea have a pouch, holding near seven quarts of water ; they 
 their mates at the season of incubation, about the latter end 
 nier ; separate in pairs, if there be a sufficiency of females 
 fur the males ; otherwise the males fight until one of them falls ; in 
 France, some of those victims of gallantry found dead in the fields ; 
 their nests made upon the ground ; they lay two eggs almost of the 
 size of a goose-egg ; Inteli in about five weeks; the young run 
 about as so:m as out of the shell ; they assemble in flocks in Octo- 
 ber, and keep together till April; their food in winter; in some 
 parts of Switzerland they are found frozen in the fields in severe 
 weather : when taken to a warm place, they again recover ; usual- 
 ly live fifteen years, and are incapable of being propagated in a do- 
 mestic state. 50 1, 505. 
 
 Butcher-binl, its description, with its habits ; leads a life of con- 
 tinual combat ; intrepidity of this little creature, in going to war 
 with the pie, the crow, and the kestril, all above four times bigger 
 than itself; it fights upon the defensive, and often comes to tlic at- 
 tack with advantage, particularly when the male and female unite 
 to protect their young, a. id to drive away the more powerful birds 
 of rapine ; in what manner they sally forth against them ; some- 
 times the combat ends with the destruction of tlu assailant, and 
 also of the defender ; the most redoubtable birds of prev respect 
 >!u-m, and they fly in their company without fearing their power or 
 avoiding their resentment; small birds are its usual food; and 
 when it lias killed the bird or insect, as asserted by the best au- 
 thority, it fixes them upon some neighbouring thorn, and when 
 thus spitted, pulls them to pieces with its bill ; the smaller red 
 butcher-bird migrates ; the places where they are to be found ; their 
 nests, and the number of their eggs ; the feinale feeds her young 
 with caterpillars and other insects, but soon after accustoms them 
 to flesh procured by the male with great industry ; their nature 
 very different from other birds of pre.y in their parental care ; for 
 instead of driving out their young from the nest to shift for them- 
 selves, they keep them with care, and even when adult do not for- 
 sake them ; the whole, brood thus live in a familv together ; each 
 family afterwards live ap:>rt. and build in concert ; upon the return- 
 ing season of courtship, this union is at an end; the manner of (lying 
 is always up am! down, seldom direct or sideways ; different kinds 
 of this bird. 4,-<:. 
 
 ttultcr, tho fat of the ma.ir.it i serves in all cases instead of 
 Jiutter. 
 
 Butterfly, some kinds actually live upon little or nothing, 153 ; 
 one of tho principal ornaments of oriental poetry ; in those coun- 
 tries, the insect is larger and more beautiful than with us ; easily 
 
 NO 77 &, 78. 
 
 distinguished from flies of every other kind iiy i ; Lin- 
 
 niEUS has reckoned up above seven hundred and sixty different 
 kinds, yet the catalogue is incomplete ; number and beauti'.ul co- 
 lours of its wings ; butterflies can di-'cover their mates at more than 
 a mile distance ; description of the head, corselet, and body ; the 
 eyes have not all the same form ; but the outward coat has a lustre, 
 in which may be discovered all the colours of the rainbow ;.when 
 examined closely, it hn* the appearance of a multiplying glass; tha 
 use of their horns or feelers, as yet unknown ; the uso of their 
 trunks; difference between butterflies and tuol:^ -n per- 
 
 ceive the approach of the female at about two m re ; by 
 
 what sense is not easy to conceive ; it h:ts no organs for smelling : 
 the female is larger than the male ; if disturbed while united, the 
 female flies off with the male on her back, entirely passive on the 
 occasion ; after junction they deposit their eggs and die ; all females 
 of this tribe are impregnated by the e aperture, and lay 
 
 their egg" by another ; every butterfly chooses for her bro.xj. in- 
 stead oi'tiio plant most grateru] in >t. !te. that which it 
 has fed upon in its reptile form ; how they keep their eggs warm, 
 and also entirely concealed ; many do not lay till the winter warns 
 them of their approaching end ; some continue the whole winter in 
 hollows of trees, and do not provide for poster it' 1 until the beginning 
 of April, then leave their retreats, deposit their eggs, and die, 
 791 to 7:)4. See jiurrlia, 7.-1 
 
 Buttufl;, in man, different from that of all other animals. 148. 
 
 Buzzorrf, a sluggish, inactive bird ; ofien remains perched whole 
 days upon the same bough ; lives more upon frogs, mice, and in 
 suets, than upon birds ; more troublesome to seize; its manner of 
 living in summer ; resembles the owl kind in his countenance more 
 Ih.j.'i any other rapacious bird of prey ; so little capable of instruc- 
 tion that it is a proverb to call one obstinately ignorant, a buzzard ; 
 the honey-buzzard, the moor-buzzard, and the lieu-barrier, are of this 
 stupid tribe, and differ chiefly in their size. 4I!.">. 
 
 Byron. (C'ommodure) our last voyager that has seen the gigantic 
 race of mankind, l!'l. 
 
 i, the same animal as the rapihara, 2^-i. 
 
 Cac/iuli/t. a fish said to pursue a shoM of herring?, and to swallow 
 thousands at. a L'ulp. ''(Ill ; it has generally gone under t!ie name of 
 the spermaceti whale, till Mr. 1'enmint made the distinction, bor- 
 rowing its name from the French ; seven d'stiie-tions in this tribe ; 
 description ; the throat of this animal very formidable; with ease it 
 could swallow an ox ; it terrifies the dolphins and porpoises so 
 much, as often to drive them on shore ; it contains two precious 
 drugs, spermaceti and ambergris ; the oil of thi.-* fish is easily con- 
 vertible into spermaceti, by boiling it with a lay of pot-ash, ami 
 hardening it in the manner of soap ; candles are now made of it; 
 the balls of ambergris not round in all fishes of this kind, but chiefly 
 in the oldest and strongest, (j'23, t>24. 
 
 Cagui, or the saki, is the largest monkey of the sagoin kind ; its 
 description, 412. 
 
 < ' i _ : 'rtii. a mountain i:car it. w:s split, by n;i earthquake, 40. 
 
 (,'iiirn, iii what manner they produce their six or seven thousand 
 chickens at a time, 4!K>. 
 
 Ciilttci, the horned Indian raven. .",](!. 
 
 Cntriimtiiin, all animal substances when calcined are the 
 same, Tii-\ 
 
 name given to the young of the hind, or the female of the 
 stag, 260. 
 
 Calf, or hind-calf; the stag called so the first ye.ar, 2(52. 
 
 Callitrix, the green monkey of St. Jago, \>f the ancient conti- 
 nent; its o ill. 
 
 C'ii.nyuni/nnts, the dragonet ; description of this fish, 648. 
 
 Ft*, attended with a deluge of rain ; why, and where, 101. 
 
 Cumliii f . rim!'- of hair of anim&Is about Angora, 247. 
 
 C'nmi'l. a ruminating animal. '.' ">'i ; camel and dromedary not two 
 distinct kinds, only a variety of the same, which has subsisted time 
 immemorial ; the only sensible difference between those two races, 
 they produce with each other, and ihe mixed breed is considered 
 the best ; of the two the dromedary is far the most numerous ; 
 countries where the camel and dromedary are found ; neither can 
 subsist or propagate in the climates towards the north ; Arabia the 
 most adapted to" the support and production of this animal ; tha 
 camel the most temperate of all animals ; it can continue to travel 
 several days without drinking, and is often, six or seven days with- 
 out any sustenance ; its feet formed to travel upon sand, and utter- 
 ly unfit for moist or marshy places ; many vain efforts tried to pro- 
 pagate the camel in Spain ; they have been transported into 
 6 6 
 
10 
 
 CAP 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 CAS 
 
 America, but have multiplied in neither ; they might perhaps pro- 
 duce in these countries, but would in a few years degenerate ; their 
 strength and their patience would forsake them ; and instead of 
 enriching become a burden to their keepers ; uses to which this 
 animal is put among (lie Arabians ; its education ; it has a fifth 
 stomach, which serves as a reservoir to hold a greater quantity of wa- 
 ter than immediately wanted ; when the camel finds itself pressed 
 with thirst, it throws up a quantity of this water by a simple con- 
 traction of the muscles, into the other stomachs ; travellers, when 
 straitened for water, have often killed their camels for what they 
 expected to find within them ; countries where commerce is carried 
 on by means of camels ; trading journeys in caravans ; capable of 
 carrying a thousand weight ; their food ; pursue their way when 
 the guides are utterly astray ; its patience and docility when load- 
 ed; Buffon considers the camel to be the most domesticated of all 
 other creatures ; in what manner the female receives the male ; 
 one male left to wait on ten females, the rest castrated ; they live 
 from forty to fifty years ; every part of this animal converted to 
 some useful purpose ; its very excrements are not useless, 430 to 433. 
 
 Camclfon, its dimensions and appetites ; has a power of driving 
 the air it breathes over every part of the body, 719; changes of its 
 colour ; it is an error that it assumes the colour of the object that it 
 approaches ; description of it by Lc Brun, 720 ; it often moves one 
 eye, when the other is at rest ; sometimes one eye seems to look 
 directly forward, while the other looks backward ; and one looks 
 upward, while the other regards the earth, ib. 
 
 Camelojiard described ; dimensions of a young one ; inhabits 
 the deserts of Africa ; no animal, from its disposition or its forma- 
 tion, less fitted for a state of natural hostility ; it lives entirely upon 
 vegetables, and when grazing, spreads its fore-legs wide to reach 
 the pasture ; known to the ancients, but rarely seen in Europe ; 
 often seen tame at Grand Cairo, in Egypt ; Pompey exhibited at 
 one time ten upon the theatre, 429. 
 
 Camerarius, his description of the perfections a horse ought to 
 possess, 222. 
 
 Canada, above thirty thousand martins' skins usually imported 
 from that country into England, 33C. 
 
 Canal. See Blood, 173. 
 
 Canary-bird taught to pick up the letters of the alphabet at the 
 word of command, to spell any person's name in company, 450 ; by 
 the name originally from the Canary Islands ; comes to us from 
 Germany, where they are bred in numbers ; at what period brought 
 into Europe is not known ; about a century ago they were sold at 
 very high prices, and kept only for the amusement of the great ; in 
 its native islands it is of a dusky gray colour, and so different from 
 those seen in Europe, as to raise a doubt about its species : rules 
 and instructions for breeding them in a domestic state ; apparatus 
 for breeding in Germany ; food the old ones must be supplied with, 
 when the young ones are excluded ; so prolific are these birds 
 sometimes, that the female will be ready to hatch a second time 
 before the first is able to quit the nest ; this bird kept in company 
 with the linnet, or the gold-finch, pairs and produces a mixed 
 breed, most like the canary-bird, and resembling it in its song, 
 544, 545. 
 
 Canary-boar described. 287. 
 
 Cancerous breasts cured by the sucking of the rubeth, or the 
 land-toad, 7(15. 
 
 Candle quickly extinguishes in an exhausted receiver, and why ; 
 07. 
 
 Cannons filled with water, and left to freeze, burst, 52. 
 
 Cuntharidcs, well known in the shops by the name of Spanish 
 flies, and for their use in blisters ; their description, with the dif- 
 ferences from eacii other ; the countries where, and trees on 
 which, they are seen ; it is reported, that the country people ex- 
 pect the return of these insects every seven years ; their bad 
 smell is a guide for those who catch them ; they smell so disagree- 
 able, as to be perceived at a great distance, especially about sun- 
 set, though not seen at the time ; they yield a deal of volatile 
 caustic salt ; their qualities ; the effects fall principally upon the 
 urinary passages ; in what manner they are killed, 822, 823. 
 
 Cape dc Vcr<Le islands ; a south wind prevails in them during 
 the month of July, 10). 
 
 Cape of Good Hope, a north-west wind blows there during the 
 month of September, 101 ;. at the Cape of Good Hope it is custom- 
 ary to hunt the elephant for its teeth ; in what manner ; account 
 of an unhappy huntsman, 424. 
 
 Cujiibara, or cahiai, an animal resembling a hog of about two 
 years old ; its description ; some naturalists have called it the 
 water-hog, and why ; a native of South America, and chiefly 
 .frequenting the borders of lakes and rivers, like the otter ; it 
 seizes the fiah, upon which it preys, with its hoofs and teeth ; lives 
 
 also upon fruits, corn, and sugar-canes ; is often seen sitting up 
 like a dog that is taught to beg ; its cry resembles the braying of 
 an ass, more than the grunting of a hog ; its only place of safety 
 is the water, into which it plunges when pursued, and keeps so 
 long at the bottom, that the hunter can have no hopes of taking 
 it there ; when young is easily tamed ; its flesh has a fishy taste, 
 but its head is said to be excellent, 484, 485. 
 
 Capons taught to clutch a fresh brood of chickens throughout 
 the year, ^96. 
 
 Capon of Pkaratih, supposed the true ibis ; is a devourer of ser- 
 pents, and follows the caravans that go to Mecca, to feed upon the 
 offal of the animals lulled on the journey, 557. 
 
 Caracal, or the siagush, a native of the East Indies, resembles 
 the lynx in size and form, 304. 
 
 Caracal, a town situated at the foot of the Andes, 43. 
 
 Caraguatii, a plant in the West Indies, which clings round the 
 tree it happens to be near ; it keeps away that nourishment de- 
 signed to feed the trunk, and at last entirely destroys its supporter, 
 WO. 
 
 Carapo, description of this fish, G49. 
 
 Carassa, a volcano in South America, 29. 
 
 Caravan, a single lion of the desert often attacks an entire cara- 
 van, 293; the assemblage called a caravan sometimes composed of 
 numbers amounting to ten thousand, 431. 
 
 Carcajou, name given by the North Americans to the glutton ; 
 its manner of killing the rein-deer, 277. 
 
 Caribou, name the North Americans give the rein-deer, 273. 
 
 Carli, (Father) See Monkey, 410. 
 
 Carnitorous animals, there is one class that pursue in a pack, 
 and encourage each other by their mutual cries ; generally lead a 
 life of famine and fatigue ; support a state of famine for several 
 weeks together, 208, 209 ; milk in those animals is more sparim* 
 than in others, 212. See Animals, 231, 232. 
 
 Carnivorous birds seek for such as are of the size most approach- 
 ing their own, 470. See Birds. 
 
 Carp, an experiment made with this fish in a large vase of wa- 
 ter, under an air-pump, 609 ; one found by Buffon not less than a 
 hundred years old ; this discovery confirmed by other authors, Cll ; 
 continues in the egg not above three weeks, 613 ; Mr. Tull famous 
 for his invention of spaying carp to give it a fine flavour, ib. ; its 
 description, 650 ; the method of fattening it in a damp cellar ; it 
 has been known thus to live for a fortnight, to grow exceedingly 
 fat, and to get a superior flavour, 652. 
 
 Carriers, pigeons used to carry letters, 532. 
 
 Carrion-crow, resembles the raven in its appetites, its laying, 
 and manner of bringing up its young, 514. 
 
 Cartesius, his theory to explain the invariable motion of the 
 winds, not quite BO absurd as that of Dr. Lyster, 100. 
 
 Carthagcna, in America ; the heat of the hottest day ever 
 known in Europe is continual there ; the heat of its climate 
 affects the speech of its inhabitants, which is soft and slow, and 
 their words generally broken ; more than three parts of our army 
 destroyed by the climate, in our unsuccessful attack upon it. 94. 
 
 Carthamus, or bastard-saffron, strongly purgative to mau ; par- 
 rots very fond of it, 528. 
 
 Cartilage, the thyroid cartilage, 147 ; cartilages in youth elastic 
 and pliant, in age become at last hard and bony, and why, 173. 
 
 Cartilaginous fishes ; their general conformation ; supposed 
 they grow larger every day till they die ; their internal structure ; 
 are possessed of a two-fold power of breathing ; apertures by 
 which they breathe ; the cartilaginous shark, or ray, live for some 
 hours after they are taken ; fishes of this tribe possessed of powers 
 that other fishes are wholly deprived of; can remain under water, 
 without taking breath ; and can venture their heads above the 
 deep, and continue for hours out of their native element ; their 
 season and manner of copulating, and of bringing forth ; little 
 difference between the viviparous and the oviparous kinds in this 
 class of fishes ; five divisions of the cartilaginous fish, 627, 628. 
 
 Cassowary, a bird first brought into Europe by the Dutch from 
 Java, in the East Indies, where only it is found ; its description ; 
 the part which most distinguishes this animal is the head, which 
 inspires some deo-ree of terror ; its internal parts described ; t'jeir 
 intestines are thirteen times shorter than those of the Oslric h ; it 
 has the head of a warrior, the eye of a lion, the defence of a por- 
 cupine, and the swiftness of a courser ; is not fierce in its natural 
 character; how it defends itself; extraordinary manner of going; 
 swallows every thing that comes within the capacity of its gullet ; 
 the Dutch assert that it can devour glass, iron, and stones, and can 
 even live on burning coals, without the smallest fear, or the least 
 injury ; the largest of its eggs is fifteen inches round one way, and 
 twelve the other ; placet where this animal is found , it has not 
 
CAT 
 
 multiplied in any considerable degree, as a king of Java made a 
 present of one to the captain of a Dutch ship, as a rarity, 467, 408. 
 
 Catacombs of Egypt, 190. 
 
 Catanrountain hunts for the hare or the rabbit, 207 ; the ocelot of 
 Mr. Buffon ; its description, 304 ; is one of the fiercest, and, for 
 its size, one of the most destructive animals in the world ; no arts 
 can tame or soften their natures, 305. 
 
 Catanea, a city utterly overthrown by an earthquake, 33. 
 
 Cataphractus, or kabassou, is one of the largest kinds of the 
 armadillo, 3*2. 
 
 Cataracts of the Rhine, and of the Nile ; the cataract of the 
 river Velino, in Italy, is above a hundred and fifty feet perpendicu- 
 lar ; a cataract near the city of Gottenburg in Sweden ; other 
 cataracts, 305. 
 
 Cataract of the eye ; Mr. Cheselden having couched a boy of 
 thirteen, who to that time had been blind, and at once having 
 restored him to sight, curiously marked the progress of his mind 
 upon the occasion, 101. 
 
 Caterpillars, their differences from all other insects ; all these 
 animals are hatched from the eggs of butterflies ; during the win- 
 ter, the greatest number of caterpillars are in an egg state ; in the 
 aurelia state, they are seemingly deprived of life and motion ; 
 some do not make any change at the approach of winter, but 
 choose themselves some retreat, and there remain quite motion- 
 less, and as insensible as if actually dead ; caterpillars of this kind 
 are found in great numbers together, enclosed in one common web 
 that covers them all ; there are some of this kind, whose butterflies 
 live all the winter, and where ; a single caterpillar -eats double its 
 own weight of leaves in a day, and seems no way disordered by the 
 meal ; the body of the caterpillar anatomically considered ; avidi- 
 ty with which they feed ; number of their stigmata, or those holes 
 through which the animal is supposed to breathe ; it has eighteen 
 lungs : the experiment of Malpighi to ascertain their use ; all ca- 
 terpillars spin at one time or another ; many of them change their 
 skins five or six times in a season ; and in what manner ; change 
 into an aurelia ; their retreats in that state, 782 to 789; there are 
 thousands of fishes, birds, and insects, that live chiefly upon cater- 
 pillurs; a single sparrow and its mate, that have young ones, de- 
 stroy above three thousand caterpillars in a week ; some of the 
 kind, fitted only to live upon leaves and plants, will eat each other, 
 in preference to their vegetable food; the bodies of the larger kinds 
 serve as a nest to various flies, that very carefully deposit their 
 eggs in them ; number of worms remain within the body of the ca- 
 terpillar, devouring its entrails without destroying its life ; the 
 ichneumon tribe is not the caterpillar's offspring, as supposed, but 
 iis murderers, 794, 795. 
 
 Cat-Jin/:, its description, 048. 
 
 Cats, the wild hunt for the squirrel or the mouse, 207 ; lead a 
 solitary ravenous life ; the whole tribe seek their food alone, and 
 never unite for mutual support ; and, except at certain seasons, are 
 enemies to each other ; all of the cat kind devour nothing but flesh ; 
 and starve upon any other provision ; a.ro fierce, rapacious, subtle, 
 and cruel ; their greatest force lies in their claws ; the cat goes with 
 young fifty-six days, and seldom brings forth above five or six at a 
 lime; the male often devor.rs the kittens; before they are a year 
 old they are fit to engender ; the female seeks the male with cries ; 
 nor is their copulation performed without great pain, and why ; 
 when young are very playful and amusing ; cits hunt the serpents 
 in the Isle of Cyprus; any animal weaker than themselves, is to 
 them an indiscriminate object of destruction ; the mouse is their 
 favourite game, and they patiently watch a whole day until the mouse 
 appears; a flagrant mark by which the cat discovers its natural 
 malignity ; their eyes see better in darkness than in light, and 
 why ; if the inhabitant quits the house, the cat still remains ; is 
 particularly fearful of water, of cold, and of ill smells ; is excessive- 
 ly fond of some plants, such as varelian, marum, and cat-mint ; par- 
 ticularly loves fish ; its sleep is very light ; its hair sends forth 
 shining sparks, if rubbed in the dark ; the wild breed with the 
 t line ; description of the wild cat ; inhabits the most mountainous 
 and woody parts ; lives mostly in trees, and feeds only by night ; 
 the cat was much higher in esteem among our ancestors than it is 
 at present; laws of Howcl, concerning the price of cats; cats 
 were not naturally bred in our forests ; of all quadrupeds, the wild- 
 cat is, perhaps, that whose intestines are proportionably the 
 smallest and the shortest, and why ; common to the new continent 
 as well as the old ; the blue-cat, the lion-cat, or more properly, the 
 cat of Angora ; the cats in Syria and Persia remarkable for their 
 long soft hair, 288 to 292 ; all the cat kind are kept off by the fires, 
 which the inhabitants light to preserve their flocks and herds ; and 
 they hunt rather by the sight than the smell ; it happens that the 
 Hon pursues the jackal, or the wild dog, while they are hunting 
 
 OH A 
 
 11 
 
 E 
 
 upon the scent and merely lor themsrlvcs ; tlio lion is then an un- 
 welcome intruder upon the fruits of their toil; from thence, proba- 
 bly, has arisen the story of the lion's provider, 294 ; the lion de- 
 vours a great deal at a time, and generally fills himself for two or 
 three days to come ; in the deserts and forests, his most usual prey 
 are the gazelles ;iml the monkeys, 21*5 ; the race of cats noxious in 
 proportion to their power to do mischief; inhabit the most torrid 
 latitudes of India, Africa, and America, and have never been able 
 to multiply beyond the torrid zone, they seldom attack man. though 
 provoked ; of all animals these are the most sullen, and, to a pro- 
 verb, untameablc ; they still preserve their fierce and treacherous 
 spirit, 305; different classes of the kind from the lion to the cat, 
 307 ; the wild cat and the martin seldom meet without a combat ; 
 it is not a match ibr the martin, 237 ; the ichneumon injudiciously 
 called the cat of Pharaoh, 3o7 ; cats of Constantinople, a name of 
 the genet, and why, 340. 
 
 Cattle, we have the best, breed of horned cattle in Europe ; tlm 
 large hornless breed in some purts of England, originally from 
 Poland, 234 ; the Dutch bring great quantities of lean cattle from 
 Denmark to fatten on their own rich grounds ; that of Ukraine be- 
 comes fat, and is considered the largest breed of all Kurope ; in 
 Switzerland these animals grow to a large size ; not so in France ; 
 size in liarbary, Ethiopia, Persia, and Tartary, 2'i'i ; leather- 
 mouthed cattle, 243 ; liable to be destroyed by the" South American 
 bat, vampyre, 380. 
 
 Caverns, the amazing cavern of Eldenhole in Derbyshire ; the 
 dreadful oavern in the country of the Arrian Indians, called the 
 gulf of Pluto, described by ./Elian ; the famous cavern of Candle, 
 supposed to be entirely the work of art ; cavern of Maestricht ; its 
 description ; no part of the world has a greater number of artificial 
 caverns than Spain ; in those countries where the climate is vcrv 
 severe, still made use of as houses ; in general deserted by every 
 race of meaner animals, except the bat ; the caverns called Oakey- 
 hole, the Devil's-hole, and Penpark-hole, in England ; description 
 of tbem ; the cavern of Antiparos, and its discovery ; Magni's 
 amusing account of it ; how natural caverns formed ; two hundred 
 feet as much as the lowest of them is found to sink, 17 to 21 ; one 
 in Africa, near Fez, continually sends forth smoke or flames, 39. 
 
 Cavier, the inhabitants of Norway prepare from eggs found in 
 the body of the porpoise, a savoury liquor, which makes a delicate 
 sauce, and is good when eaten with bread, (>20; it is made with the 
 roe of the sturgeon ; more in request in other countries of Europe 
 than with us ; formerly in much request at the politest table in 
 England, now sunk entirely into disuse ; is a considerable mer- 
 chandise among the Turks, Greeks, and Venetian! ; manner of 
 making it, 041, 042. 
 
 Causes, the investigation of final causes a barren study ; and, like" 
 a virgin dedicated to the Deity, brings forth nothing. 0. 
 
 Caustic, cantliarides yield a great deal of volatile caustic salt, 822. 
 
 Cayman, a sort of crocodile, 711. 
 
 Cayopolin, a kind of oppossum ; its description, 415. 
 
 Cr.a,, an island washed away with several thousand inhabitants, 39. 
 
 Cells, made by the bees, 8H2. 
 
 Ccnere, a mount of recent appearance, 47. 
 
 Centiuel. See J/wi/.s20!). See Marmouts, 356. See Bustard, 504. 
 
 Cc-ntipes, the scolopcndra. 7(11. 
 
 Centriseus. a kind of cartilaginous fish, 044. 
 
 Ccplms, name given by the ancients to the monkey now called 
 mona, 411. 
 
 Crpola, the description of this fish. '' !-. 
 
 Cefigii, an island of the Archipelago, where many wild asses are 
 found, 224. 
 
 Cetaceous fishes, the v. hale and its varieties resemble quadrupeds 
 in their internal structure, and in some of their appetites and affec- 
 tions ; they are constrained every two or three minutes to come up 
 to the surface to tuke breath, as well as to spout out through their 
 nostril (for they have but one) that water which they sucked in 
 while gaping for their prey ; the senses of these animals superior 
 to those of other fishes ; and it is most likely that all animals of the 
 kind can hear ; they never produce above one young, or two at the 
 most ; and this the female suckles in the manner of quadrupeds, her 
 breasts being placed as in the human kind, above the navel ; inte- 
 resting story founded upon fact from Waller ; distinctive marks of 
 this tribe, 014, G15. 
 
 Cliacrelas, white men go by that name in the East Indies, 180. 
 
 Chatodon. See Cat-fish, 048. 
 
 Chaffinch, a bird of the sparrow kind, 537, 538 ; time of emigra- 
 tion of the hen, 457, 
 
 Cliapotonadas, a distemper in America, 90. 
 
 Charles XII. when shot at the siege of Frederickshall, was sesn 
 to clap his hand on the hilt of his sword, 170. 
 6 G* 
 
12 
 
 CIV 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 COC 
 
 Charossi, the only sort of horses for hunting lions, 296. 
 
 Charybdis, a gulf; Nichola Pesce jumped into it, continued for 
 three quarters of an hour below, and at last appeared holding a 
 golden cup in one hand, and making his way among the waves with 
 the other; description of this gulf, 8(3. "<7. 
 
 Chase, men of every age and nation have made that of the stag a 
 favourite pursuit ; in our country it was ever esteemed a principal 
 diversion of the great, 2ti<); these sports reserved by Bovereipu tor 
 particular amusement, and when ; in the reigns of William Hnfiis 
 and Henry the First, it was less criminal to destroy a human being 
 than a beast of chase ; s::crrd edifice:) thrown down for room to 
 beasts of chase. 201 : chase of the stag, as performed in Kngland; 
 terms used by hunters in that chase, 202 ; the same in Sk-.ily ; and 
 in China, 10'J ; chase of the fox : cant terms used by the huntsmen 
 in it, 323; of all varieties, that of the ostrich the most laborii'iis, 
 is also the most entertaining ; description of it, -Iti.j. 
 
 Chasms, amazing in the Alps, and still more in the And:/;;, 17 ; 
 'causes that produce chasms or fissures, 18. 
 
 Chatterer, a bird, native of Germany ; its description, 517, 51.-. 
 
 Cheese, the inhabitants of Canada use no other than the milk of 
 the hind, or the female of the stag, 265 ; those of Ijapland little and 
 well tasted; never breed mites, 206. 
 
 Cheops, the oldest measure of the human figure in his monument, 
 in the first pyramid of Eirypt, 192. 
 
 Cheseldcn. See Cataract, 101, 162. 
 
 Clirrrotia, or little Guinea Deer. Die least of all cloven-footed 
 quadrupeds, and perhaps tin 1 !;ii; is most delicately shaped; 
 
 its description ; ivitive f l:idi i. ( ruiivj,-:, and the warm climates be- 
 tween the tropics ; the nvile in Guinea has horns, but the female is 
 without any; they chiefly abound in Java and Ceylon, 253, 254. 
 
 Chan 1 the quantity of water on the earth daily de- 
 
 creasing, 53. 
 
 Chicken, an amazing history of it in the egg, by Malpighi and 
 Haller, 126 ; in what manner six or seven thousand are produced 
 at a time, at Grand Cairo ; capons clutch a fresh brood of chickens 
 throughout the year, 490. 
 
 ChM, history of the child in the womb, 120 to 131 ; children of 
 Xi'grocs able to walk at two months old, at least to move from one 
 place to another ; in our own country seldom able to walk under a 
 twelvemonth ; skin of children newly brought forth, is always red, 
 and why ; the size of a new-born infant about twenty inches, and 
 its weight twelve pounds. 134 ; when newly born, pass most of their 
 time in sleeping, and awake with crying ; in cold countries continue 
 to be suckled for four or five years together ; in Canada and Green- 
 land mothers are often se'en suckling two or three children of dif- 
 ferent ages at a time, 135 ; child's growth less every year till the 
 time of puberty, when it seems to start up of a sudden, ib. ; in some 
 countries speak sooner than in others, and why ; children of the 
 Italians speak sooner than those of the Germans ; various methods 
 pointed out to improve the intellects of children, 188, 181) ; inherit 
 the accidental deformities of their parents ; instances of it, 1-5 ; 
 white children frequently produced from black parents ; but never 
 Black children from two whites, 136 ; many instances of the child 
 in the womb being marked by the strong affections of the mother ; 
 how performed is not known ; hard to conceive that the child in the 
 womb should take the print of the father's features, 187, Is8. 
 
 f.'liiinborazo, a remarkable mountain in South America, 44. 
 
 Chinese, have neither flats nor sharps in their music, 161 ; their 
 uorses weak, little, ill-shaped, and cowardly, 220; description of 
 that people, ISO, 181. 
 
 Ckorosan, in Persia, bodies previously embalmed, and burird in 
 the sands of that country, preserved from corruption a thousand 
 years. 
 
 Cliou^li. description of the Cornish Chough, 514. 
 
 Christmher (St.) See Fish, 020. 
 
 Chrysalis, or the avrclia, 787. 
 
 Ckryscs. an island sunk near Lemnos, 3!). 
 
 Cicero, a long poem of his in praise of the halcyon, of which but 
 i wo lines remain, 602. 
 
 Cii-i-insians, described, 183. 
 
 Circe, an enchantress, armed her son with a spear headed with 
 i lie spine of the trygon, O'i5. 
 
 Clrrnlatiun of the blood. See Hlootl,l7'3. 
 
 L'ivet, tlie species distinguished into two kinds ; Mr. Buffon calls 
 one the civet, the other the zibet ; distinctions between the two 
 kinds ; the civet thirty inches long ; both civet and zibet considered 
 as varieties of the same animal, as former naturalists have done ; 
 the civet resembles the weasel kind, in what ; differs from them, in 
 what; the opening of the pouch or bag, the receptacle of the civet; 
 manner of taking the civet from the pouch ; although a native of 
 'the warmest climates, (his animal lives in temperate and even cold 
 
 I 
 
 countries , the quantity of perfume which a single animal affords, 
 generally depends upon its health and nourishment ; kinds of food it 
 likes best ; drinks rarely, yet it makes urine often ; and. upon such 
 occasions, the male is not distinguishable from the female ; numbers 
 of these animals bred in lli.lhmd, and the perfume of Amsterdam 
 reckoned the purest of any ; the quantity greater proportionably to 
 the quality and abundance of the food ; this perfume so strong that 
 it communicates to all parts of the animal's body, to its fur and skin : 
 a person shut up with one of them in a close room, cannot support, 
 the perfume ; manner of i:h<ic-';-.,r (],, perfume ; the places of con - 
 ble traffic in it : the animal irritated, its scent become* 
 greater ; and tormented, its sweat is Ptill stronger, and serves to 
 adulterate or increase what is otherwise obtained from it ; civet a 
 more grateful perfume- than musk : sold in Holland for fifty shillings 
 an ounce : its eyes shine in the night ; sees better in the dark than 
 by day; breeds very fast in climates where beat conduces lo propa- 
 ' at ion ; thought a wild fierce animal ; never thoroughly familiar: 
 .ives by prey ; birds, and nnimals it can overcome ; its teeth strong- 
 and cutting ; its claws feeble and inflexible ; this perfume quite dis- 
 continued in prescription ; persons of taste proscribe it from the 
 toilet, 340 to 342. 
 
 Clarities, or collar-bones, what animals have them; Mr. Buff.m 
 says none but monkeys, but this is an oversight, 147. 
 
 Claws of the lion give a false idea of its power ; we ascribe to its 
 force the effects of its arms, 149; the weasel kind neither draw in. 
 nor extend their claws, as cats do, 328 ; those of the civet feeble and 
 inflexible, 341. 
 
 Climates, calamities in those where the air is condensed by cold, 
 95 ; cause obvious, and sufficient to produce blackness of Negroes, 
 184; complexions of different countries darken in proportion to the 
 heat of the region ; next to human influence, the climate has the 
 strongest effects upon the nature and form of quadrupeds, 408 ; 
 those excessively hot. unfavourable to horses, 220; in general, 
 water-fowls of no particular climate, 537. 
 
 Clot/i. now made worse than some years past ; Flemings possessed 
 the art of cloth-working in a superior degree, 243. 
 
 Clone-trees cut down by the Dutch at Ternate to raise the price 
 of tile spice ; soon had reason to repent of their avarice, 95. 
 
 Cluuils, the forerunners of a terrible hurricane, called by the sai- 
 lors the bull's eye, 105 ; dashing against each other, produce electri- 
 cal fire ; water evaporates, and rising forms clouds; the theory upon 
 it ; that of Dr. Hamilton ; the author's theory of evaporation, 107, 
 108 ; at once pour down their contents, and produce a deluge ; re- 
 flecting back images of things on earth, like mirrors; during the 
 winter months, under the Line, usually about May, the whole hori- 
 zon seems wrapt in a muddy cloud, 110. 
 
 Clupea, or herring, its description, 650. 
 
 Coaili, a monkey of the new continent, described, 412. 
 
 Coan, the name of a dwarf lately dead at Chelsea, 189. 
 
 Coast of Italy is bordered with rocks of marble of different kinds ; 
 quarries of which may easily be distinguished at a distance from 
 sea ; those of France from Brest to Bourdeaux, and Spain, composed 
 of rocks, 79 ; of the sea, have peculiar winds. 102 ; deadly winds all 
 along those of the Persian Gulf, and those of India, 105. 
 
 Coatimondi, extreme length of its snout; its description; very 
 subject to eat its own tail; its habits, 440. 
 
 Cobitis, the loach, description of this fish, 050. 
 
 Cobra di Capcllo, a kind of serpent, 732, 739. 
 
 Cochineal, a description of this insect, as in our shops brought 
 from America ; difference between the domestic and the wild 
 cochineal ; precautions used by those who take cire of those insects ; 
 the propagator has a new harvest thrice a year ; various methods 
 of killing them ; produce different colours as brought to us ; our 
 cochineal is only the females, used both for dying and medicine, f-23. 
 
 Cock, of all birds the cock the oldest companion of man, and first 
 reclaimed from the forest ; scarcely two in the whole species that 
 exactly resemble each other in plumage and form ; species of cock 
 from Japan, covered over with hair instead of feathers ; the western 
 world had the cock from Persia ; Aristophanes' cock the Persian 
 bird ; it was one of the forbidden foods among the ancient Britons ; 
 Persia, that first introduced it to us, no longer knows it in its natural 
 form: countries where it is wild ; peculiarities, in a wild condition; 
 another peculiarity in those of the Indian woods, their bones, when 
 boiled, are as black as ebony ; the Athenians had cock-matches ae 
 we ; no animal of greater courage, when opposed to one of its own 
 species; in China, India, the Philippine islands, and over the East, 
 cock-fighting the sport and amusement of kings and priuces; cocks 
 in China as bold, or bolder, than ours ; and of more strength with 
 less weight ; its great courage proceeds from being the most sala- 
 cious of all birds ; a single cock suffices for a dozen liens ; and is the 
 only animal whose spirits are not abated by indulgence ; soon grows 
 
CON 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 COU 
 
 13 
 
 old, and in three or four years becomes unfit for the purposes of im- 
 pregnation ; how long cocks live, left to themselves, not well ascer- 
 tained ; Aldrovandus makes their age to be ten years ; arc injured, 
 as Linnxus asserts, by elder hurries, 494 to '1'Jti ; the black chiefly 
 found in heathy mountains, and piny forests, 50S ; cock of the wood. 
 See tt'ouilcock. 
 
 Cackle, a bivalved shcll-iis'.- 
 
 Coeua, the elephant > nts to the roots, 3(>li. 
 
 Cut!, from the banks :'nHainl, pursues the whitin?- 
 
 which flies before it to the southern shores of Spain, <10!> ; spawn 
 in one season, as Lewenlieecl. ve nine millions of eggs 
 
 or peas, contained in a Mingle roe, (il'J ; its description, t!-i:>; fishery 
 in Nowiiiinidiand ; wh: such large quantities, that they 
 
 supply all Europe with a emisidcrahln share of provision ; when 
 their provision is exhausted, they go to the polar seas, where they 
 deposit their roes in i'uil srenrily. ' 
 
 Cniil promotes oviiporation, although diminisliing the force of 
 other menstruums, I 1 '-; extremity of it not less productive of tawny 
 complexions than that of heat, JS4; excessive, preserves bodies 
 from corruption, I'.'"*: s^me fishes rendered so torpid by cold in 
 the northern rivers, as to bo frozen up in the masses of ice, where 
 they continue, for months together, without life or sensation, pri- 
 soners of congelation, waiting a warmer sun to restore them to 
 life and liberty, U.".:i, 
 
 Collar-bouts, what animals have them, 347 
 
 Colliers, eight dropped down dead by the vapour of the mines 
 in Scotland, as if shot, ^1. 
 
 Ctiluur, none refreshes the sight so well as green, 5 ; of the sea, 
 not from any thing floating in it, hut from different reflections of 
 rays of light ; the proof, 85; different colours of the eye, 141; 
 whence proceeds the tawny of the North American Indians. l'*4. 
 \f~j-, different of the waters of the same sea, 80; hair takes its 
 colour from juices flowing through it, 143 ; that of the object con- 
 tributes to form an idea of the distance at which it appears, 1(>2 ; 
 of all those by which mankind is diversified, ours most beautiful to 
 the eye. and most advantageous, 183 ; those changes the African, 
 the Asiatic, or the American, undergo in their colour, are but 
 :':'.! defrrmitks. \\iiicii might probably be removed, I^G ; 
 nothing exceeds the delicate regularity of those of tlie y.cbra, '^Jl ; 
 Change of colour in tile hair obtains, in some degree, in all quad- 
 rupeds, 331 ; different in several parts of the fur of the sable, 33G. 
 
 Comets, their appearance formerly terrible to mankind ; their 
 number much greater than that of (lie planets ; they roll in orbits; 
 f.xperiencc has not sufficiently confirmed the truth of the investi- 
 gation about their returning periods, y. 
 
 Cnnijinj i<m, extremity of cold not less productive of a tawny than 
 that of heat ; not easy to conceive how the sun whitens wax and 
 linen, and darkens the human complexion ; the sun not the only 
 cause of darkening it ; tiie sun tinges the complexion in propor- 
 tion to its vicinity, 184, 1-5. 
 
 Cumptc's (Lc) account of an ape he saw in the straits of Molucca, 
 401. 
 
 Cunrt ir.,tif, scarce an animal, or a part of their bodies, in 
 which concretions are not formed ; experience has found but few 
 cures by the efficacy cf these concretions ; often prove fatal to the 
 animal that bears them, 'i'i'1. 
 
 Conduiiiine (Iji) knows a fish possessed of the powers of the 
 torpedo, and every way resembling a lamprey, 1)37. 
 
 Ciindoina, anomalous animal of the goat kind; its description, 
 253. 
 
 Condor, poeses^es, in a !ii,/hf?r degree than the eagle, all the 
 qualities that render it f immlatdc In the leathered kind, to beasts, 
 a:..- : ' man hiin.self; is eighteen feut across this wings extended, 
 according lo Acosta, Gareilasso, and Desinarchais ; the beak so 
 strong as to pierce the body of a cow ; two of them able to devour 
 it; they do not abstain from man himself; fortunately there are 
 few of the species; the. Indians believe that they will carry off a 
 deer, or a young calf in their talons, as eagles would a hare 
 ar a rabbit ; and that their sight is piercing and their air 
 terrible ; that they seldom fiv'.uent the forests, as they require a 
 large space for the display of their wings ; they come down to the 
 -iM-shore at certain seasons; when their prey fails upon land, they 
 !hen feed upon dead fish, and such nutritious substances as are 
 thrown upon the shore ; their countenances not so terrible as old 
 writers have represented ; those who have seen this animal, say 
 the body isaslargc as that of a sheep ; many instances of its car- 
 rying away children ; circumstantial account of this bird by P. 
 I'euilee, the only traveller who has accurately described it ; it is 
 supposed that the great Bird called the Rock, described by Arabian 
 writers, and so much exaggerated by fable, is but a species of the 
 condor ; countries where it is found ; in the deserts of Pachoinac, 
 
 men seldom venture to travel ; its flesh as disagreeable as carrion, 
 477, -; . 
 
 "ilt, an animal resembling the skink in all things except 
 size, 3:;-i. 
 
 / of America, resembles the tiger in natural ferocily, 
 though far inferior in its dimensions. 4311. 
 
 I'uni'i .utntn. See Hlttixl. 357. 
 
 Cuiiao, the land and sea-brco/e- th> re. 101?; the inhabit 
 ;mtry desire ardently to pH> ; ;itnV their v. ives ,'uiil 
 strangers for trifling advantages, !')!>. 
 
 l>lc, its cats ; name given to tiie genets, and why, 
 
 Continent of America; that part under the line is cool ami 
 pleasant ; cither shaded by mountains, or refreshed by breezes 
 from the sea, li-l. 
 
 Cunt, description of that bird, 572; residence and nest ; rears 
 two or three broods in a season; sometimes swims down 'i 
 rent, till it reaches the sea; dangers encountered in this voy- 
 
 ''. manner of making that vcsvo!, 41V 
 
 ('{i[niiiitiutt. natural instinct for the proper times ; instances of it. 
 Ul'i ; nats produce young without copulation, J-Jii. 
 
 Cii'<nnUin the Bazilian squirrel, so called by BufFon, 3.V.?. 
 Ciiml, the common red never met witii in the fossil world, 13. 
 
 ('f'l'ni-tf : , , ilieti. 7o f *. 
 
 Corul-pluntf, their various appearances ; opinion of count Mar- 
 sigli upon corals ; Mr. Ellis proves it the work of reptiles of the 
 polypus kind ; principal experiment to this purpose, 837, 838. 
 
 Cura/ints called JWI1 until /-< 
 
 Curi t. a sea snail, performs tin; office of male and female, 685. 
 
 ( 'o/cr used in dressing a burn iu the true Roman taste, 340. 
 
 Cm-ill, name of the third variety of gazelles, by Mr. Buffon, 
 251. 
 
 Cormorant, its description and food : remarkably voracious, with 
 a sudden digestion; has a rank and dis.iinveab'i' sine',! ; and is more 
 fciitid than even carrion ; its form disagreeable ; its voice hoarse and 
 croaking ; all its qualities obscene ; no wonder Mi'lou makes S;>t,' > 
 personate this bird ; objection :ijr, r iinst this passage of Milton 
 dise Lost vindicated; fisho:< in fresh water, and in the il pliis o. 
 the ocean ; builds in cliffs of reeks, and in trees : preyfl in : 
 time, and by night ; once used in F.ngland for ii . i what 
 
 manner ; how educated in Chinn. for the purposes * : 
 best fisher of all birds ; a most .-11111181111: spectacle, stv 
 cliff on the shore to see it dive aitcr its prey ; son;&limvs h,i . e;T>r>h:. 
 thn nVh by the tail ; the fins prevent its bi-inn- s"-a'Vwi.d in tlia'. 
 position, how it manages the fish in this i -i ; remarked 
 
 for the quickness of its sight . 
 
 Corn, the flying squirrel is apt to do a great deal of damage iu 
 the corn-fields, 355. 
 
 Cornaro, lived a hundred years with a constitution naturally 
 feeble, 174. 
 
 Cornwall, pilchards make that coast a place of resort ; their 
 arrival proclaimed by the birds, and the larger fishes. ' 
 
 Cftrtniuintlff, dreadful tempests wholly unknown along its 
 coasts, 1(I'<J ; amazing size of oysters along that coast. (Ml. 
 
 C'orrira, or the Runner, a bird of the crane kind ; its descrip- 
 tion, 507. 
 
 Corruption, excessive cold preserves bodies from it ; and a great 
 degree of dryness produced by heat ; eart.li. if drying and astrin- 
 gent, produces the same effect ; bodies never corrupt at Spitsber- 
 gen, though buried for thirty years ; men and animals buried in the 
 sands of Arabia, preserve. 1 from corruption fiir B i'-tually 
 
 embalmed ; corruption of dead bodies entirely caused by the fer- 
 mentation of the humours: bodies buried in flu: monastery of the 
 Cordeliers at Tboulouse, preserved from corruption ' bodies pre- 
 viously embalmed buried in the sonds of Chorosaii. in Persia, pre- 
 served from corruption for a thousand years; an ;r, - ..ng preser- 
 vation from it, in a mummy lately ducr op in France, 1H5 to I 1 .)?'. 
 
 Conjphftnti. the razor fi-.li. its oe-eription, 400. 
 
 Cotojiaxi, volcano in South Ainencu, described by Utloa, 29; 
 more than three geographical miles above the surface of the sea, 44. 
 
 Cotton-tree, the seed intoxicates parrots, as wine does man, 
 538. 
 
 Coitus, the bull-head ; description of this fi--h, 04!). 
 
 Ctniniido, much less than the porcupine, its description, 377. 
 
 Cougar, the red tiger, by Mr. Buffon. 3011 ; extremelv common 
 in South America ; make frequent incursions by night into the 
 midst of the streets, carrying off dogs and other domcitic crea- 
 tures ; in what manner the Indians encounter it "01. 
 
 Coulterneb, remarkable bird of the Penguin kind. Se Puffin, 
 590. 
 
H 
 
 CRA 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 CRO 
 
 Cows, allured by music, 100 ; of ruminant animals, the cow kind 
 deserves the first rank ; meanest peasants in Germany, Poland, and 
 Switzerland, kill one cow at least for their own table ; salted and 
 hung up, is preserved as a delicacy the year round ; cows want the 
 upper tore-tcetli ; in no part of Europe cows grow so large, yield 
 more milk, or more readily tiit'en, than in England ; make no par- 
 ticular distinction in their herbage, indiscriminately devouring the 
 proper quantity ; it givus buck mr.rc than it takes from the soil ; 
 so of the cow known by the teeth and horns ; the number of 
 .eth; hve eight cutting teeth in the lower jaw; manner of 
 i Hewing tin-in : flic horns more surely determine this animal's 
 n;fe, and ho\v ; while this animal lives, the horns lengthen ; wants 
 in udder what it his in neck ; the larger the dew-lap, the smaller 
 liie quantity of iis milk ; the kind to be found in every part of the 
 world ; larger in proportion to the richness of the pasture ; Africa 
 remarkable tor tliu largest and smallest cattle of this kind ; as also 
 India, Poland, and Switzerland ; among tile Elutli Tartars, the cow 
 so Urge, tiiat a tall man can only reach the tip of its shoulder ; of 
 all quadrupeds, the cow most liaule to alteration from its pasture ; 
 the breed of the Isle of Man, and most parts of Scotland, much less 
 than in England, sis.j differently shaped ; the breed improved by 
 foreign mixture, adapted to supply the imperfections of our own; 
 such as purely British, far inferior in size to those of the Continent ; 
 the cow, the urus, and the bison, animals of the same kind ; differ- 
 ence in size not so remarkable as those in its form, hair, and horns ; 
 many considered as a different kind, and names given to them as a 
 distinct species, when in reality all the same ; only two varieties 
 of the kind really distinct, the cow and the buffalo ; they bear an anti- 
 pathy to each other ; scarce a part of the world where the cow kind 
 is not found ; variety of the horns ; those in Iceland, are without 
 horns; the Barbary cow, or zebu ; of all animals, the cow most ex- 
 tensively propagated ; an inhabitant of the frozen fields of Iceland 
 and the burning deserts of Lybia ; other animals preserve their na- 
 ture or their form with inflexible perseverance ; the cows suit 
 themselves to the appetites and convenience of mankind ; no ani- 
 mal has a greater variety of kinds, none more humble and pliant ; 
 the cow and bison breed among each other ; the cow does not 
 breed with the buffalo ; no animals more distinct, or have stronger 
 antipathies to each other ; the cow goea nine months with young ; 
 the grunting or Siberian cow, and the little African or zebu, are 
 different races of the bison ; animals of the cow kind by naturalists 
 extended to eight or ten sorts, reduced to two ; an animal of the 
 cow kind no naturalist has described ; the description of it, 233 to 
 240 ; the Greeks compared the eyes of a beautiful woman to those 
 of a cow, 251 ; it eats two hundred and seventy-six plants, and re- 
 jects two hundred and eighteen, 26U. 
 
 Cow liczoar, a factitious sort, '^.V>. 
 
 Crab, a ruminating fish, 39 ; surprising manner in which the 
 monkeys draw crabs from the water, 4011 ; found in fresh and salt 
 water, and upon land ; description ; its intestines have many con- 
 volutions ; land-crabs of various kinds; some healthful and nou- 
 rishing ; others poisonous or malignant to a great degree ; places 
 where found, 005. 
 
 Crab (cialet) of the Caribbee islands, described; most noted, 
 both for shape and delicacy of its flesh ; their food ; their nippers 
 the principal instruments for seizing and cutting their food ; catch 
 such hold, that the limb is lost sooner than the grasp ; thus it gets 
 off, leaving its claw fastened upon the enemy ; the claw performs 
 its duty, and keeps a minute fastened upon the finger, while the 
 
 uinazing inarch from the mountains to the sea-shore, to deposit the 
 spawn, from which soon after millions of little crabs are seen slow- 
 ly travelling up the mountains ; wait the benefit of sea-water for 
 their delivery ; eiiange their shells, at which period they become 
 quite naked, and almost without motion for six days, when they be- 
 come so fat as to be delicious food ; have under their stomachs four 
 white stones, which gradually decrease, as the shell hardens, and 
 when come to perfection are not to be found ; season and manner 
 in which they are caught ; in Jamaica they are in great plenty, and 
 considered as one of the greatest delicacies ; many of this kind 
 found poisonous, 003 to 607. 
 
 Crab (soldier) a native of the West Indies ; its description ; seen 
 every year descending from the mountains to the sea-shore, to de- 
 posit its spawn, and to provide itself with a new shell ; contest be- 
 tween them for some well-looking favourite shell, for which they 
 are rivals ; strike with their claws ; bite ach other, till the weakest 
 is obliged to yield and give up the object of dispute ; when taken 
 .sends forth a feeble cry, endeavouring to seize the enemy with its 
 jnippers ; not much esteemed for its flesh, COS, 669. 
 
 Cravr, bred familiarly in our marshes formerly ; not now, ami 
 why, 457 ; general characteristics and habits of birds of the crane- 
 kind ; their food and flesh ; description of the crane ; their nests 
 are more simple than the sparrow's ; Gesner says, its feathers, in 
 his time, were set in gold, and worn as ornaments in caps ; de- 
 scription of this bird from ancient writers, who have mixed ima- 
 tion with history ; whence have arisen the fables of supporting Their 
 aged parents, and fighting with pigmies ; the crane a social bird, 
 iit.il seldom seen alone ; usual method of flying or sitting, in flocks 
 of fifty or sixty together ; while part feed, the rest keep guard ; 
 subsists mostly upon vegetables ; are known in every country of 
 Europe, except our own; are birds of passage; seasons of their 
 migrations, during which they do incredible damage, chiefly in the 
 night ; were formerly known, and held in great estimation here for 
 the delicacy of their flesh ; there was a penalty upon destroying 
 their eggs; Plutarch says cranes were blinded, kept in coops, ami 
 fattened for the tables of the great in Rome ; at present they are 
 considered all over Europe as wretched eating ; qualities of its 
 flesh ; the cold Arctic region this bird's favourite abode ; their note 
 the loudest of all other birds ; and often heard in the clouds, when 
 the bird itself is unseen ; amazing heights to which they ascend 
 when they fly; though unseen themselves, they have distinct 
 vision of every object below ; govern and direct their flight by their 
 cries ; extraordinary length and contortion of its windpipe; use 
 made of their clangorous sound ; they rise but heavily, are shy 
 birds, and seldom let the fowler approach them ; their depredations 
 usually in the darkest nights, when they enter a field of corn, and 
 trample it down, as if crossed over by a regiment of soldiers ; corn 
 their favourite food, scarce any other comes amiss to them ; Redi'H 
 experiments to this purpose ; a little falcon pursues, and often dis- 
 ables it ; method used on such occasions by those fond of hawking; 
 barbarous customs of breeding up the cranes to be thus baited ; 
 easily tamed ; Albertus Magnus says, it has a particular affection 
 for man ; the female distinguished from the male, by not being bald 
 behind ; never lays above two eggs at a time ; the young are soon 
 fit to fly, and then the parents forsake them to shift for themselves ; 
 when unfledged, they run with such swiftness that a man cannot 
 easily overtake them ; Aldrovandus assures us one was kept tamo 
 for above forty years ; the vulgar bear the crane a compassionate 
 regard ; prejudices in its favour ; a heinous offence in some coun- 
 tries to kill a crane ; distinctions between the crane and the stork, 
 551 to 555. 
 
 Crane, the Belearic, from the coast of Africa, and the Cape de 
 Verde islands, its description ; habits ; has been described by the 
 name of the sea-peacock ; real Belearic crane of Pliny ; foreign 
 birds of the crane kind, described ; the jabiruguacu ; the anhima ; 
 the buffoon-bird or Numidian crane, described, 557, 558; place 
 where the crane kind seem to have formed their general rendez- 
 vous, 504 ; the flamingo the most remarkable of all the kind, the 
 tallest, bulkiest, and most beautiful, described, 5(55 ; small birds of 
 the crane kind, 508. 
 
 Criesus, (king of Lydia) seated on his throne with all the barba- 
 rous pomp of Eastern splendour, asking Solon if he had ever beheld 
 any thing so fine ? was answered, that after the beautiful plumage 
 of the pheasant, he could be astonished at no other finery, 50). 
 
 Cricetus, the German rat, by Mr. Buffon called the hamster, its 
 description ; is the greatest pest in the countries where found. ;md 
 every method made use of to destroy it; its hole a curious object 
 for contemplation ; shows a skill superior to the rest of the rat kind ; 
 description of it ; their storehouses : contain two bushels of good 
 rain in each apartment ; means of finding out their retreats ; pro- 
 
 duce young twice or thrice a year, and bring five or six at a tin:i> ; 
 their devastations produce a famine ; tlu-y destroy each et'-tw:' ; 
 their fur very valuable, 308. 
 
 Crirkct, a ruminating insect, or seemingly so, 282 ; difference 
 from the grasshopper; their voice; food, 770; never drink; 
 sound of drums and trumpets make them forsake their situation, ib. 
 
 Cricket (i:iti!t : ) described, thought to be amphibious, 777; the 
 number of their eggs ; a most detested insect by gardeners; its de- 
 vastations ; precautions of the female against the black beetle ;. their 
 care and aseiduity in the preservation of their young, ib. 
 
 Crochet, in the head of the stag, 202. 
 
 Crocodile, extraordinary combat between this animal and the 
 tiger, 301 ; the ichneumon discovers and destroys its eggs ; kills its 
 young, and sometimes entering the mouth of the crocodile, when 
 sleeping on the shore, effectually destroys it, 337 ; the eggs it lays 
 in the sand often amount to three or four hundred, 338 ; the 
 places where found, together with their dimensions ; description ; 
 during an inundation, it sometimes enters the cottages of the na- 
 tives, and seizes the first animal it meets with ; several examples 
 of taking a man out of a xatioe from his companions, notwithatani- 
 
CUR 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 DEE 
 
 ing all opposition and resistance ; can overturn a fanoe with a sin- 
 gle blow of its tail ; terrible even upon land ; its depredations ; 
 combats between the crocodile and the tiger ; in what manner it 
 seizes its prey ; there is no animal but man alone that can combat 
 it with success ; hnw a negro ventures to attack this animal in its 
 own element ; manner of taking it at Siuiu ; often managed like a 
 horse ; a curb put into its mouth, and the rider directs it as lie likes ; 
 makes an object of savage pomp near the palacos of their monarchs ; 
 manner of taking it uong the rivers of Africa; pools of water 
 where bred, as we breed carp in our ponds ; in Egypt, and other 
 long-peopled countries, this animal solitary and fearful ; in the river 
 San Domingo, they are most inoffensive, children play with them, 
 and ride about on their backs ; beat them without receiving the 
 smallest injury ; probable opinion, its musky substance amassed in 
 glands under the legs and arms ; its flesh ; the eggs to the savages 
 most delicate morsels ; all breed near fresli waters ; precautions in 
 laying their eggs; the female having introduced her young to 
 their natural element, she and the male become their most formida- 
 ble enemies ; their eggs eagerly sought after by every bird and 
 be;ist of prey ; the Gallinazo (a species of the vulture) their greatest 
 rnemv ; th<; open-bellied crocodile, thought viviparous ; his a false 
 belly like the oppossum, for the young to creep out and in, as dan- 
 ger or necessity requires ; their age ; produced to fight at the am- 
 phitheatre at Koine, 711 to 71(1. 
 
 Croppers, a kind of pigeons, 530. 
 
 Crossbill, a bird of the sparrow kind, 537. 
 
 Cross-fax, animal between the dog and fox, 320. 
 
 Crown, in the head of a stag, 3t!2. 
 
 Crotcs fetch and carry with the docility of a spaniel, 512; the 
 rarrinii-crow resembles the raven in appetites, laying, and manner 
 of bringing up its young; the Roystcn-crow, 514. 
 
 Cruelty, teaching the arts of cruelty, equivalent to committing 
 them, 495. 
 
 Crustaceans, animals of the lobster kind, 6G3. 
 
 Cu/i, the fox is so called during the first year, 323 ; born blind, 
 like those of the dog, 324. 
 
 Cuckoo, fables invented of this bird now sufficiently refuted ; where it 
 resides in winter, or how provides for its supply during that season, 
 still undiscovered ; this bird somc<vliat less tfian a pigeon, shaped 
 like a magpie, and of a grayish colour; is distinguished from all 
 other by its round prominent nostrils ; discovers itself in our couu- 
 1 ry early in the spring, bv its well known call; its note heard ear- 
 lier or later as the season is more or less forward, and the weather 
 inviting ; from the cheerful voice of this bird Ihe farmer instructed 
 in the real advancement of the year ; from this bird's note, the hus- 
 bandman mav be taught when to sow his most useful seeds ; history 
 and nature of this bird still in great obscurity ; its call an invitation 
 t.o courtship, used only by the male, generally perched upon a dead 
 tiee, or bare bough, repeating his song, which he loses when the 
 genial season is over ; his note pleasant though uniform ; the female 
 makes no nest ; repairs to the nest of some other bird, generally the 
 water-wagtnil or hedge-sparrow, and, after devouring the eggs of 
 the owner, lays her's in their place ; usually lays but one, and this 
 the little foolish bird hatches with great assiduity, and when ex- 
 rjuded fondly thinks the ill-looking changeling her own ; to supply 
 Ibis voracious creature, the credulous nurse toils with unwearied 
 labour, not sensible she is feeding up an enemy to her race ; the 
 stomach of this bird is enormous, and reaches from (he breast-bone 
 to the vent ; its food ; naturally weak and fearful ; the smaller birds 
 misiJer the young cuckoo as an enemy ; revenge the cause of their 
 kind by repeated insults, and form a train of pursuers ; the wry- 
 neck in particular, the most active in the ehace ; supposed, in win- 
 ter, to lie hid in hollow trees, or to pass into warmer climates; story 
 of a cuckoo found in a willow log, in winter ; probable opinion con- 
 cerning its residence in winter ; Brisson makes not less th:m twenty- 
 eight sorts of this bird ; and tiilks of one of Brazil, as making a hor- 
 rible noise in the forests, 523, 524 ; follows a very different trade 
 from what its nurse endeavoured to teach it; and, according to 
 Pliny, in time destroys its instructer, 5 ( J7. 
 
 Cuckoo-spit, or froth-worm, its description, 779. 
 
 Cud, the hare, the rabbit, and the squirrel, placed by Pyerius 
 among those that chew the cud ; how far true is not determined, 345. 
 
 t'n^nnt'.i fijxini. name in Brazil for the roe-buck, 2*i9. 
 
 Cummin-seed, formerly used in dressing a hare in true Roman 
 taste, 349. 
 
 Cur, the cur-fox, 325. 
 
 Curlew, a small bird of the crane kind ; its dimensions ; places 
 where found ; manner of procuring its food ; its habits ; its nest, 
 and number of eggs ; a bird of passage ; our country, during the 
 summer season, becomes uninhabitable to them ; season of court- 
 rtiip, 568 to 570, 
 
 Currents of rivers well explained by the Italians, 5f>; side, current ; 
 back current, CO ; sometimes the current at bottom swifter than al. 
 top, and when ; double current, ib. ; found to run in all directions ; 
 manner in which mariners judge of the setting and rapidity of the 
 current ; currents are generally found most violent under the equa- 
 tor ; along the coasts of Guinea, if a ship happens to overshoot the 
 mouth of any river it is bound to, the current prevents its return ; 
 a passage, with the current, gone in two days, with difficulty per- 
 formed in six weeks against it ; currents do not extend itbove twenty 
 leagues from the coast ; the currents at Sumatra extremely rapid, 
 run from south to north; also strong currents between Mndngasrar 
 and the Cape of Good Hope ; on the western coasts of America, this 
 current always runs from the south to the north ; but the most re- 
 markable are those continually flowing into the, Mediterranean s -.1 . 
 between the North and the South Foreland, the current runs one 
 way at top, and the ebb another way at bottom, 7(i to 7*. 
 
 Current of air, driven through a contracted space, grows more 
 violent, 104. 
 
 CILSCO, Garcilasso do la Vcgo asserts the air is so dry and so cold 
 there, that flesh dries like wood without corrupting, 195. 
 
 Ciiftom, the form of the face seems rather the result of cus- 
 tom, i 
 
 l.uttlr-fish, its description ; contrivance with which it is furnished 
 by nature, when under a difficulty of escaping, 833. 
 
 Cybotus, a lofty mountain swallowed by an earthquake, 47. 
 
 Cijnocephalus, the Magot of Buffon, the last of the ape kind ; its 
 description ; is a native of Africa and the East, 404. 
 
 Cyprinus, or the carp. See Carp, 650. 
 
 D. 
 
 Dam, in the rapacious kinds, leads her young forth for months 
 together ; it is not so with those of the hare kind, 34<i. 
 
 Dam/tier, has added more to natural history than half the philo- 
 sophers before him, (374. 
 
 Damps, of various natures in mines ; the fulminating sort, 23, 24. 
 
 Dance, hares taught to dance to music, 347. 
 
 Dane, the tallest dog bred in Kngland, 312, 313. 
 
 Danube, has seven openings into (he t'uxiiit! Sea, 39 ; proceeds 
 from the Alps, 42 ; its course ; the Turks and Christians have fleets 
 of men of war upon it, 61 ; it receives thirty lesser rivers. (14 ; the 
 huso, or isinglass-tish, caught in great quantities in tiie river, 042. 
 
 Dam, its inhabitants use ostriches as horses. 4C5. 
 
 Darkness, surprising how far the eye accommodates itself to it, 
 1b'3; remarkable instance of it in a gentleman, a major under 
 Charles the First, 103. 
 
 Dmilmton gives a complete history of a dwnrf. 1^9. 
 
 Deaf men often found to see the force of those reasonings wiiich 
 they could not hear, understanding every word as it was spoken, 
 108 ; one born deaf, must necessarily be dumb ; inst-tncesof two young 
 men, who, born deaf, were restored to hearing, 1(J7 ; a person born 
 deaf, by time and pains taught to write, read, speak, and by the mo- 
 tion of the lips to understand what is said; instances of it, UH. 
 
 Deafness one of the most common disorders in old age ; way t<j 
 know this defect cither internal or external. Hi7. 
 
 Death, a young man born deaf and dumb, knew nothing of death, 
 and never thought of it till the age of twenty-four, when he began 
 to speak of a sudden, 107; a spectre, which frights us nt a distance, 
 but disappears when we come to approach it, 170; uncertainty of 
 the signs of death, 177. 
 
 Deer, annually shedding horns, and their permanence in the sheep, 
 draws a distinct line between their kinds, 241; the little Guinea- 
 deer, the least of all cloven-footed quadrupeds, and most beautiful; 
 its description, 253; the male in Gniiu-;i has horns, but the fcmalq 
 is without ; they abound in Java and Ceylon, ib. ; all of the deer- 
 kind want the gall-bladder, 2~>7 ; a downy substance, like velvet, 
 upon the skin, covering the skull of a deer, when, the old horn is 
 fallen off; their horns grow differently from those of sheep or cows j 
 they are furrowed along the sides, and why, 257 ; the bran-deer, or 
 the brown-deer, called by the ancients fragelaphus, found in the 
 forests of Germany ; the new continent of America produces ani- 
 mals of the deer-kind in sufficient plenty, 205. 
 
 Deer (Fallow,} no animals more nearly allied than the stag and 
 fallow-deer, yet they never herd nor engender together, nor form, 
 a mixed breed ; each form distinct families, and retain an unalter- 
 able aversion ; the fallow-deer, rarely wild in the forests ; are in gene- 
 ral bred in parks, and their flesh is preferred to that of any other ani- 
 mal ; a herd of them divides into two parties, and engages each other 
 with great ardour and obstinacy ; bothdesirMis.of y; lining a favourite 
 spot of the park for pasture, and of driving the vanquished into tka 
 
DIV 
 
 U'DEX. 
 
 DOG 
 
 more disagreeable pnrts ; mann.-r of . ars easily 
 
 ' uind ; :iiid browse rW;r tlwn the si '' k tin) female at 
 
 their second year ; their strength, eunidng, and courage inferior to 
 those of tlic stag ; a more dolicale unim.il than ih have 
 
 in En.rt'iud Uvo varieties oi'tlip fallow-deer, ono brought from Ben- 
 pal, the other from Norway ; flesh of this French fallow-dyer, lias 
 ' f.itnes-i or the flavour ef tht fed up. .11 English pasture ; 
 Spanish arid Virginia fallow-deer larger and stronger than ours; 
 d.'er without horns, their description, 21 15, 2'o<'>. 
 
 Dcir (Jicin.) the most extraordinary and nio-st useful; native of 
 t';e icy regions of the North ; it answers the purposes of a horse -, 
 attempts made to accustom it to a morn southern climate, in a lew 
 months it declines and dii s ; answers the purpose of a cow in giving 
 nilk, and of the sheep in furnisljing warm clothing to the people of 
 Lapland and Greenland ; description of the rein-deer ; its rutl ing- 
 lime, and that of shedding its horns ; difference between this deer 
 and the stag ; it is not known to the natives of Siberia ; Americans 
 call it caribou ; herdsmen of Lapland known to possess a thousand 
 rein-deer in a single herd ; it subsists upon moss; and makes tile 
 riches of the people of Lapland ; gnats and gadflies very formidable 
 to this deer in Lapland ; female brings forth in May ; its milk thin- 
 ner than that of the cow; sweeter and more nourishing ; is of two 
 kinds in Lapland; it draws sledges; can go about thirty miles 
 without halting, and without dangerous effort ; generally castrated 
 by the Laplanders ; one male left for six females ; begin to bleed 
 when two years old ; go with young eight months, and bring two 
 at a time : fondness of the dam remarkable ; live but fifteen or six- 
 teen years ; manner in which the Laplanders kill them ; scarce any 
 part of this animal not converted to peculiar uses ; tiie Laplanders 
 tind their necessities supplied from the rein-deer alone ; in what 
 manner ; diseases of this animal ; the blood of the rein-deer pre- 
 served in small casks, for sauce v.'ith the marrow in spring ; the 
 horns converted into glue ; the sinews make the strongest sewing- 
 thread ; the tongues a great delicacy ; the intestines, washed like 
 our tripe, in high esteem among the Laplanders; bears make de- 
 predations upon the rein-deer ; glutton its most dangerous and suc- 
 cessful persecutor ; only method of escape from this creature, 272 
 to 276 ; in what manner the rein-deer is killed by it. :!!:! ; the wolf 
 never attacks a rein-deer that is haltered in Lapland, and why. 321. 
 
 Drfurmity, children often inherit even the accidental delor- 
 inlties of their parents ; instances oi' it ; accidental deformities be- 
 come natural ; by assiduity continued and increased, through suc- 
 cessive generations, ]r-'5 ; all those changes the African, the Asiatic, 
 or the American, undergo in their colour, are accidental deformi- 
 ties probably to be removed, 18t>. 
 
 Demoiselle, name given by the French to the Numidian bird, 558. 
 
 Itiitvitti. a large serpent, native of .Mexico. 742. 
 
 Derlirnt, pastures in these plains excellent for rearing horses, 21!). 
 
 Derbyshire, description ol' the nest oi'au eagle found in the peak 
 of Derbyshire, -175. 
 
 Derhtini, by a microscope, discovered in the eye of a mole, the 
 parts known in other animals. '.i7!. 
 
 Desman, one of the three distinctions of the musk-rat ; a native 
 of Lapland, 307. 
 
 Deri^, the Swedish Laplanders consult him, 178. 
 
 l>i rll (Sea.) or fishing-frog described, (>43. 
 
 Due compensates tin: want of showers in Egypt, 105. 
 
 Diitblt.ret, a mountain of France suddenly fallen down ; its ruins 
 covered an extent of a large square, 4lJ. 
 
 iHt'liuiiur^ts ol Arts und Sciences, a fault that has infected most 
 of them, 204. 
 
 fa thin sparisg kind remarkable among quadrupeds, as 
 human species, to produce hair, 331. 
 
 !)t<, r <*t?r, an instrument; moat and bones put into it, dissolved 
 into a jelly in six or eight minutes. '.Hi. 
 
 Digcstum, these organ, in birds are in a manner reversed. 4.72 ; is 
 not perfect in all birds that live upon mice, lizards, or such like food, 
 48!) ; performed by some unknown principle in the stomach, acting 
 in a manner different from all kinds of artificial masceration ; this 
 luiimal power lodged in the maw of fishes, 60!). 
 
 /.':.. 'i ties of the rein-deer; the manner in which the Laplanders 
 cure them, 277. 
 
 Disorders, infectious, propagated by the effluvia from diseased 
 bodies, 95; most of these incidents to mankind, says Bacon, arise 
 from the changes of the atmosphere, Gil; fishes have their dis- 
 orders, 659. 
 
 Diver (the great northern.) a bird of the smaller tribe of the pen- 
 guin kind ; the gray-speckled diver ; the scarlet-throated diver, 590. 
 
 Divers known to descend from twenty to thirty fathom, 85 ; of 
 all those who have brought information from the bottom of the 
 tteep, Nicola Peace the most celebrated ; account of hie perform- 
 
 ances by Kireher. 8fi ; some known to continue three quarters of 
 an hour under water, without breathing ; they usually die con- 
 sumptive ; manner of fishing for pearls. (\:>3. 
 
 Dutlo, its description, 40!' ; among birds, as the sloth among 
 quadrupeds, an unresisting animal, equally incapable of flight or 
 defence ; native of the Isle of France ; the Dutch first discovered 
 it, a.nd called it the nauseous bird ; travellers deem its flesh good 
 and wholesome ; it, is easily taken ; three or foul' dodos enough to 
 dine a hundred men ; whether the dodo be the same bird with that 
 described under the name of the bird of Nazareth, remains uncer- 
 tain, 470. 
 
 J)nc, the female of the deer kind, 266. 
 
 Dogs, always running with their noses to the ground, supposed 
 of old the first that felt infection, 93 ; no other animal of the carni- 
 vorous kind will make a voluntary attack, but with the odds on 
 their side, '207; the Arabian horses outrun them, 9; in the dog 
 kind the chief power lies in the under jaw, 2S8 : in Syria, remark- 
 able for the fine glossy length and softness of their hair, 2,*2 ; in 
 tropical climates. lose the delicacy of their scent, and whv : the 
 lion, tiger, panther, and ounce, all natural enemies to the do:}. 305 : 
 dog kind not so solitary as those of the cat ; their proper prey are 
 animals unfitted for climbing ; they can live for some time upon 
 fruits and vegetables, 306 ; description of the dog ; knows n beggar 
 by his clothes, by his voice, or his gestures, and forbids his approach, 
 ib. ; the dor most susceptible o'" cliaiiire in its form. 310; all dogs 
 are of one kind ; which the original of all the rest, which the savage 
 dog, whence such a variety of descendants, is no easy matter to de- 
 termine; the shepherd's the primitive animal of his kind; those 
 wild in America and Congo, as those of Siberia, Lapland. Iceland, 
 of the Cape of Good Hope, of Madagascar. Madura, Calicut, and 
 Malabar, resemble the shepherd's dog ; those in Guinea, at llv 
 second or third generation, forget to bark ; dogs of Albany, of 
 Greece, of Denmark, and of Ireland, larger and stronger than any 
 other; shepherd's dog, transported into temperate climates, ami 
 among people entirely civilized, from influence of climate and Ibn.i 
 alone, becomes a matin, a mastiff, or a hound ; Turkish ilog ; /rrrtit 
 Danish itnir IT r cat wolf iloif. or Irish inilf ilo<r ; the liltie Daiiix/i. 
 dug ; their variety now in England much greater than in the reign 
 of queen Elizabeth; Dr. Cains divides t!:c whole race into three 
 kinds ; the generous, the farm-kind, the mongrel, 309 to 312 : 
 three shepherd's dogs reckoned a. match for a bear, and four for a 
 lion ; three of them overcame a lion in the time of king James thu 
 First; the famous poet Lord Surry, the first who taught dogs to 
 set ; the pnp flog ; the English buil flo;f ; the lion dog, originallv 
 from Malta ; its description ; the Molossian dogs of the ancients, 
 according to Mr. BufFon ; l';>irotic il^ifx. mentioned by Pliny ; /- 
 tlian (In:.'.--, mentioned by .l^ian ; his description of a combat be- 
 tween a dog and a lion : the bravest of the kind ; the nobler kinds 
 of dogs, of which such brauiii'ul ancient descriptions, now utlerl\ 
 unknown, 313, 314; puppies' eyes not open till ten or twelve 
 days old ; dog's teeth am.'iiiit to forty-two ; this animal capable of 
 reproducing at the age ot' twelve months ; goes nine weeks with 
 youue; ; and lives abeut twelve vears : other particulars concerning 
 dogs ; many kinds of birds the doirs will not touch ; dogs and vul- 
 tures living wild about Grand Cairo in Egypt, continue together 
 in an amicable manner, and are known to hrinn- up their youn-j in 
 the same nest ; dogs bear hunger tin- a long time ; a bitch f,-. 
 ten in a country house, lived forty days without any otlr-r 
 nance than the wool of a quilt she had torn in pieces, 31(i. 317; 
 the wild hunt in packs; unknown, such as he was before the pro- 
 tection of man; some from n don- . have turned savage, 
 and partaken of the disposition of the wolf, and attack tlie most 
 formidable animals of the forest ; are easily tamed, and quickly be- 
 come familiar and submissive, 309 ; experiments to prove the volt" 
 and the, fox not of the same nature with the dog, but' of a nature 
 perfectly distinct ; animals in this country bred between a dij 
 a fox ; a d >L; set at. liberty in his s:ivag:; fury Hew upon every ani- 
 mal, fowls, dogs, and men. 310; the clog and the wolf so much alike 
 internallv. lint anatomists can scarce perceive the difference 317; 
 a younj 1 dog shudders at the sight of a wolf: dogs and wolves so dif- 
 ferent in their d'> ii it no animals have a more perfect an- 
 tipathy, 313 ; by instinct, without education, dogs take care of flocks 
 and herds, ib. ; show no appetite to enjoy their victory when the 
 wolf is killed, but leaves him wiiere he falls, 321; Calosby asserts 
 the wolf was the only dog used by the Americans, before the Eu- 
 ropeans came among them, and they have since procreated together ; 
 thus proving the dog and the wolf of the same species ; unsur- 
 mountable antipathy between the dog and the jackal) ; they never 
 pa.rt without an engagement. 32G ; famished dogs more hairy than 
 those whose food has been more plentiful, 331 ; all kinds pursue 
 the hare by instinct and follow it more eagerly than other animals : 
 
DUC- 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 EAR 
 
 17 
 
 few dogs dare to encounter the otter ; some purposely trained for 
 discovering the retreat of the otter, 388. 
 
 Dog-butchers all over China, and shambles for selling their 
 flesh ; wherever a dog-butcher appears, all the dogs in the place 
 are in full cry after him ; along the coast of Guinea their flesh is 
 esteemed a delicacy by the Negroes ; they give a cow for a dog, 
 315. 
 
 Dolphin caught in the Red Sea, known by a ring to be the 
 name taken before in the Mediterranean, 77 ; allured by music, 165 ; 
 not easy to assign a cause why the undents have invented so 
 many fables on the subject; their boundings in the water, have 
 taught mariners to prepare for a storm ; old painters nnd sculptors 
 have drawn them wrong ; the poets have adopted the error ; 
 Pliny has asserted, they instantly die when taken out of the water; 
 Rondelet assures us, he has seen a dolphin carried alive from 
 Montpelier to Lyons ; found in such vast numbers in all parts of 
 the sea that surrounds this kingdom, as to be noxious to the fisher- 
 men ; their motions the gambols of pleasure, or the agitations of 
 terror, not well known ; in fair weather they herd together, and 
 pursue shoals of various fish with impetuosity ; method of killing 
 them, b'24. 68o. 
 
 Dolphin is also the name of the ophidium, or the gilt-head, 648. 
 
 Don, or Tanais, a river, its course, til ; the sturgeon is caught 
 in great quantities at the mouth of that river, 640. 
 
 Dorado, supposed a ruminating fish, 232 ; a fish of the spinous 
 kind, the most voracious; the most active and most beautiful of 
 ; he finny region ; its description ; the flying fish is chiefly sought 
 by it ; warfare carried on between them, t'>5ti. 
 
 Doree, description of this fish, 649. 
 
 Dormouse, the mercury of the thermometer plunged into the 
 body of a living dormouse never rose beyond its pitch m air, and 
 sometimes sunk above a degree, 357 ; the greater sort Mr. Buffon 
 calls the loir, the middle size he calls the terot, and the less he 
 denominates the muscardin ; their descriptions ; agree in being 
 stupitied like the marmout during winter; their nest and provi- 
 sions ; they bring forth three or four young at a time, but once a 
 'ear, in spring, 30(i. 
 
 Dorr-beetle, or May-bug, 819. See Beetle. 
 
 Dottrel, small bird of the crane kind, 568. 
 
 Doves, the stock-dore, 529 ; the turtle-dove, 531 ; the ring-dore, 
 532. See Pigeon. 
 
 Dour, a monkey of the ancient continent, so called in Cochin- 
 China, where it is a native ; its description ; forms part of the 
 chain by which the monkeys of one continent are linked with those 
 of the other, 411. 
 
 I)ri;eo rolans. a flying ball of fire, 111. 
 
 Drag, name given by the huntsmen to the tail of a fox, 323. 
 
 Dragons, the whole race dwindled down to the flying lizard, 721. 
 
 Dragon-fly, or the fibeltn, described, 7tlti. 
 
 Dragunet, description of this fish, 648. 
 
 Dress, the first impression generally made, arises from dress, 146. 
 
 Drill, of Purchas, an ape of the kind of the ouran-outang, 399. 
 
 Dromedary, a sort of camel, 430. 
 
 Drone, a ruminating insect, or seemingly so, 232. 
 
 Drones, the second sort of bees, supposed to be the males, 
 798 ; their cells, 803 ; the workimr-bees kill the drones in the 
 worm-state in the cell, and eject them from the hive among the 
 general carnage, 806. 
 
 Drugs, in the tropical climates lose their virtue, and become ver- 
 jninous, 92. 
 
 Drum, among the Swedish Laplanders every family has one for 
 consulting the devil, 178 ; hares taug-ht to beat the drum, 347. 
 
 Dryness, a great degree of it produced by heat, preserves from 
 corruption, 195. 
 
 Duck, when ducks are caught, the men keep a piece of turf burn- 
 ing near their mouths, and breathe upon it, lest the fowl smelling 
 them should escape, 451 ; of the numerous tribes of the duck kind, 
 no more than five breed here, 457; Plutarch assures us Cato kept 
 his family in health, feeding them with duck whenever they 
 threatened to be out of order, 5!)3 ; its eggs often laid under a 
 hen ; seems a heedless inattentive mother ; of the tame duck, ten 
 different sorts ; and of the wild, Brisson reckons above twenty ; 
 the most obvious distinction between the wild and tame ducks ; 
 difference between wild ducks among each other ; sea and pond 
 ducks ; names of the most common birds of the duck kind, among 
 ourselves, and of the most noted of the foreign tribe ; the Ameri- 
 can wood-duck ; their habits, nests, and number of eggs ; are, in 
 general, birds of passage ; their flesh ; the ducks flying in the air, 
 often lured down from their heights by the loud voice of the mal- 
 lard from below ; what part of the lake they generally choose ; 
 what can employ them all day, not easy to guess ; manner of 
 
 NO. 77 &, 78. 
 
 making and managing a decoy to tulm C, < -i sensors for 
 
 catching them in decoys, from the end "- 
 taking them earlier prohibited by an act of C 
 imposing a penally of five shillings for every bird rentroyert ,. .i'iy 
 other season; ama'/ing quantity of durk* *eni t j :n:p]J> I'.IG mar- 
 kets of London: manner of taking them frequently practised in 
 China, 597 to t;n|. 
 
 Dung, some animals void it when pursued ; this arises rather 
 from fear than a desire of defence, 23i). 
 
 Dunlin, a small bird of the crane kind, 5GS. 
 
 Dutch, solicitous nbout the preservation of the stork, in every 
 part of their republic, ;V>(>. 
 
 Dwarf, in England, as late as the times of King James the 
 First, the court was furnished with one ; and he was called Little 
 Jeffrey ; Peter of Russia celebrated a marriage of dwarfs, 188, 189; 
 they seem to have faculties resembling those of children ; history 
 of a dwarf accurately related by Mr. Daubenton, ib. 
 
 Dwinn, a river ; its course and source, 61. 
 
 Eagle-kind, the flap of an eagle's wing known to lay a man 
 dead in an instant, 450 ; it flies at the bustard or the pheasant, 471 ; 
 distinctive marks from the other kinds of carnivorous birds ; the 
 golden eagle is the largest and noblest of all those birds designated 
 by the name of eagle ; its description ; its sight and sense of 
 smelling very acute ; breed among the loftiest cliffs, and choose 
 those places most remote from man ; considered among birds as 
 the lion among quadrupeds ; strong similitude to each other ; 
 great patience, and much art. required to tame an eagle; though 
 taken young, and brought under by long assiduity, yet it is a dan- 
 gerous domestic, and often turns its force against its master ; 
 sometimes has an attachment for its feeder ; it is then serviceable, 
 and will provide for his pleasure and support ; flies the highest of 
 all birds, and from thence has by the ancients been called the bird 
 of heaven ; it has also the quickest eye ; but its sense of smelling 
 is far inferior to that of the vulture ; it never pursues, but in 
 sight ; finds difficulty in rising when down ; carries away geese, 
 cranes, hares, lambs, and kids, and often destroys fawns and calves', 
 to drink their blood, and carries a part of their flesh to its retreats ; 
 infants when left unattended, have been destroyed by these rapa- 
 cious creatures ; the eagle is peculiarly formidable when bringing 
 up its young ; a poor man got a comfortable subsistence for his 
 family, during a summer of famine, out of an eagle's nest, by rob- 
 bing the eaglets of food ; eagles killed a peasant who had robbed 
 their nests ; there is a law in the Orkney islands, which entitles 
 any person that kills an eagle to a hen out of every house in the 
 parish in which the plunderer is killed ; the nest of the eagle is 
 usually built in the most inaccessible cliff of the rock ; description 
 of one found in the Peak of Derbyshire ; it hatches its eggs for 
 thirty days ; very rare to find three eaglets in the same nest ; and 
 it is asserted, that the mother kills the most feeble, or the most vo- 
 racious ; it is believed they live about an hundred years, and that 
 they die, not of old age, but from the beaks turning inward upon 
 the under jaw, and preventing their taking any food ; an eagle en- 
 dured hunger for twenty-one days, without any sustenance what- 
 ever ; they are first white, then inclining to yellow, and at last 
 light brown; age, hunger, captivity, and diseases, make them 
 whiter ; those kept tame are fed with every kind of flesh, fresh 
 or corrupting ; and upon a deficiency of that, bread, or any other 
 provision, will suffice ; it is dangerous approaching them, if not 
 quite tame, and they sometimes send forth a loud piercing lamenta- 
 ble cry, which renders them still more formidable ; they drink but 
 seldom, and perhaps, when at liberty, not at all ; the bald eagle an 
 inhabitant of North Carolina ; breeds in that country all the year 
 round : manner in which the eggs are hatched ; characteristics and 
 habitudes of this animal ; its nest is large enough to fill the body of 
 a cart, and commonly full of bones, half eaten, and putrid neshj 
 the stench of which is intolerable, 473 to 476. 
 
 Eagle, the sea-eagle called aquila poimbina by the Italians ; 
 they often lay three or four eggs, of a less size than those of a 
 hen, of a white elliptical form ; distinctive marks of the goldm- 
 eagle, of the common eagle, of the bald eagle, of the white eagle, 
 475, 476; of the rough-footed, eagle, of the white-tailed eagle, of 
 the erne, of the Mock eafle, of the sea eagle, of the osprey, of tho 
 jean le blanc, of the Brazil eagle, of the Oroonoko eagle, of the 
 crot.-iicd African eagle, of the f agle of Pondicherry, 476. 
 
 Ears, distinguishing features in quadrupeds ; serve in them as 
 principal marks of the passions ; smallest ears in men said to be 
 most beautiful ; the largest the best for hearing ; some savage na 
 6H 
 
18 
 
 EGG 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 ELE 
 
 tions bore their ears, and draw that part down, till die tip of the ear 
 rests upon the shoulder, 145 ; " the richest jewels in an thiop's 
 ear," a proverb, ib. ; undulations, which strike the ear, supposed 
 but one continued sound, by their quick successions, though in 
 reality they make many, 1U4 ; persons hear differently with one ear 
 from the other ; these have what musicians call a bad ear ; and, as 
 hearing false, also sing false ; such persons also deceived as to the 
 side whence the sound conies, 167 ; from what cause the long ears 
 of the Tartars'and Chinese, 185; those of the hare moveablc, and 
 capable of direction to every quarter, 34C ; are remarkably good. 
 347; birds have not the external ear standing out from the head; 
 probably the feathers encompassing the ear-holes, supply the defect 
 of the exterior car, 451. 
 
 Earth, its globe a million of times less than the sun. 1 ; placed at 
 a happy distance from the centre, in our solar system ; less distant 
 from the sun than Saturn, Jupiter, and Mars, and less parched up 
 than Venus and Mercury, situated too near the violence of its 
 power ; the earth, like a chariot-wheel, has a compound motion ; its 
 rotunditv proved, 3 ; is rather flatted at the poles, and its form re- 
 sembles that of a turnip, ib. ; considered as one scene of extensive 
 desolation, 7 ; supposed by Buffon a globe of glass : by Whiston a 
 sphere of heated iron ; by Kircher one dreadful volcano ; by Burnet 
 a great mass of water ; composed of different layers or beds, lying 
 horizontally one over the other, like the leaves of a book, 15. 
 
 Earth (garden) or mound-earth, a kind of mother, never found 
 an enemy to man, 15 ; black earth formed by decayed leaves and 
 branches in Burgundy, 10; drying and astringent earth preserves 
 bodies from coi ruption, l!!f> ; all such earths as ierment with vinegar, 
 are a composition of shells, decayed, and crumbled down to one 
 uniform mass, 6eO. 
 
 Earthquakes frequent through a whole region where a volcnno is 
 situated, 20 ; various kinds of them distinguished by philosophers, 
 and by Mr. Buffon ; air the only active operator in them ; several 
 opinions upon the cause of them ; activity of internal heat alone 
 sufficient to account for every appearance attending earthquakes ; 
 twelve cities in Asia Minor swallowed up in one night ; extraordi- 
 nary earthquake related by Pliny ; the city of Antioch, and a great 
 part of the adjacent country, buried by an earthquake ; in 1594 an 
 earthquake at Puteoli caused the sea to retire 200 yards from its for- 
 mer bed ; account of that in the year 1693, extending to a circum- 
 ference of two thousand six hundred leagues ; minute description 
 of that in Jamaica in 1692, 30 to 33; account of the dreadful shock 
 in Calabria in 1638, 34 ; concomitant circumstances attending 
 earthquakes, 35. 
 
 Eurt/i-icorm of America often a yard in length, and as thick as a 
 walking-cane, 190 ; multiplied by being cut in pieces, 125; its de- 
 scription, 829. See Worms. 
 
 Eanri", its habits ; reproaches groundless about this animal ; its 
 food, 778; general characteristics of the kind ; lives in its winged 
 state a few days ; dies to all appearance consumptive, ib. 
 
 East-Indies, favourable months of embarking for them, 101. 
 
 Echineis, the sucking fish, its description, 6t>0. 
 
 Echini, or urchin, a multivalve shell fish, 693. See Urchins. 
 
 Echo, no art can make an echo, 167. 
 
 Edgar. King of England, the first who attempted to rid this king- 
 dom of wolves, and in what manner, 321. 
 
 Edward I. issued his mandate to Peter Corbet to superintend and 
 assist in the destruction of wolves, 321. 
 
 Edward III. made it felony to steal a hawk, 482. 
 
 Edward IV. his act concerning swans, 595. 
 
 Eel described, 649. 
 
 Effluvia from diseased bodies propagate disorders called infec- 
 tious, 96. 
 
 Egg, all birds, most fishes, and many of the insect tribes, brought 
 
 quadrupeds brought forth from the egg, above two hundred at a 
 time, 213 ; the ichneumon discovers and destroys the eggs of the 
 crocodile, 337 ; the crocodile lays in the sand, at a time three or 
 four hundred, 338; some eggs only addled by incubation, 454 ; such 
 birds as undisturbed lay but two or three eggs, when their eggs are 
 stolen, lay ten or twelve ; a common hen, moderately fed, lays above 
 one hundred from the beginning of spring to the latter end of 
 autumn, 456 ; some of the ostrich's weigh above fifteen pounds, 
 464 ; Galen thought the eggs of hens and pheasants good to be 
 eaten ; those of geese and ostriches are the worst of all, 466 ; and 
 those hatched in the hot sand, where laid, 70 ; taking the eggs of a 
 hawk, even in a person's own ground, punished with imprisonment 
 for a year and a day, and a fine at the king's pleasure, in the reign 
 of Edward III. 482; inhabitants of Norway prepare from the eggs 
 
 of the porpoise a kind of caviar, or delicate sauce, and good when 
 eaten with bread, (126 ; manner in which the eo-gs of fishes are im- 
 pregnated, wholly unknown, 657 ; doubts whether fish come from 
 the egg completely formed, ib. ; those of the turtle hatched by the 
 sun, 675. 
 
 Eggs (Sea) name given in our cabinets to a multivalve shell-fish 
 called echini, or urchins, by naturalists, 693 ; those of the sea-urchin 
 a great delicacy, 694 ; opening the body of a queen-bee, there ap- 
 peared in it five thousand eggs, 803. 
 
 Eglantine, found at a well dug at Marly. 17. 
 
 Egy/it has south winds so hot during summer, that respiration is 
 almost stopped by them ; they are charged with such quantities of 
 sand, that they darken the air, as with a cloud ; continuing for any 
 length' of time, they produce epidemic diseases; it rains very sel- 
 dom in that country ; but the want of showers is compensated by 
 the copiousness of their dews, 104, 105 ; the catacombs, 196 ; a 
 mummy, not long since dug up in France, shows the art of embalm- 
 ing was more completely understood in the western world, than in 
 Egypt itself, 197 ; the Tingitanians and Egyptians have now the 
 fame of rearing the finest horses, both for size and beauty, 218 ; the 
 ichneumon used in this kingdom, for the same purposes that cats 
 are in Europe, 337. 
 
 Egyptian. See Embalming. See Ibis. 
 
 Eider duck, 598 ; remarkable for the warmth of its nest, 599. 
 
 Elaboratory, bowels of ruminating animals considered as an ela- 
 boratory, with vessels in it, 38 ; the chemical apparatus for hatching 
 chickens, 496. 
 
 Elasticity of the air, 87. 
 
 Elder-berries hurtful to cocks, 497. 
 
 Elephant, not afraid singly to make opposition to the lion, 295 ; 
 not less remarkable for its size than its docility ; all historian's con- 
 cur in giving it tho character of the most sagacious animal next to 
 man ; its height from seven to fifteen feet ; impossible to give an 
 idea of this animal's figure by description ; assisted by the art of the 
 engraver, it will but confusedly represent the original ; general ob- 
 servations about its conformation ; of all quadrupeds, the elephant 
 the strongest and largest, yet neither fierce nor formidable ; in its 
 native deserts seldom alone, being a social friendly creature ; tho 
 oldest conducts the band ; the next in seniority brings up the rear ; 
 order maintained in dangerous marches ; never so far asunder as to 
 be incapable of reciprocal assistance ; their invasions the more dis- 
 agreeable, there being no means of repelling them, since an attempt 
 to molest a drove would certainly be fatal ; manner of going against 
 him who offers the insult ; do no personal injury when suffered to 
 feed uninterrupted ; molested by man, they seek all occasions to be 
 revenged ; where they like best to live in this natural state ; cannot 
 live far from water, and always disturb it before they drink ; often 
 fill their trunk with water to cool it, or by way of play to spurt it 
 out like a fountain ; equally distressed by the extremes of heat and 
 cold ; swim from the continent into islands some leagues distant ; 
 frequently migrate from one country to another, and why ; their 
 food of the vegetable kind, loathing all sort of animal diet ; one 
 finding a spot of good pasture, invites the rest to partake of it; pre- 
 cautions by Negroes and Indians against them ; they often break 
 through their fence, destroy the harvest, overturn their habitations, 
 and then retreat in order, as they made the irruption ; looks with 
 attention and friendship at its master ; its ears wipe its eyes, and 
 cover them against the flies and dust ; it likes music, learns to beat 
 time, moves in measure, and joins its voice to the sound of drum 
 and trumpet ; is pleased with the odours that dcliyht man ; the 
 orange flower particularly grateful to its taste and smell ; picks up 
 flowers, and is pleased with the scent ; seeks the most odoriferous 
 plants for food ; prefers the cocoa, the banana, the palm, and tho 
 sago tree, to all others ; eats plants to the roots ; their sense of 
 touching most delicate ; description of its trunk ; serving all the 
 purposes of a hand ; breathes, drinks, and smells through the trunk ; 
 takes a pin from the ground, and unties the knots of a rope, unlocks 
 a door, and writes with a pen ; jElian saw an elephant write Latin 
 characters on a board, his keeper only showing him the figure of 
 each letter, 416 to 418; an object too large for the trunk to srasp, 
 is sucked up by its breath, lifted, and sustained ; the trunk its organ 
 of smelling, of touching, of suction, of ornament, and defence; its 
 neck is so short that it must turn about to discover what is behind ; 
 how the hunters escape its resentment ; a description of its legs; 
 while young it bends the legs, but when old or sickly, it wants hu- 
 man assistance, and chooses to sleep standing ; a description of its 
 feet, and of its tusks; these with age become so heavy, that it is 
 obliged to rest them in holes in the walls of its stall ; they are 
 two ; their amazing size ; they proceed from the upper jaw, not 
 from the frontal-bones ; and are not horns, as some have supposed ; 
 nor ever shed in a domestic state ; extraordinary manner of eating; 
 
ELE 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 EilM 
 
 19 
 
 is not a ruminating animal ; its stomach and intestines resemble 
 those of a horse ; opinion that the young elephant sucks witli its 
 trunk, not with its mouth, referred to future discoveries ; the skin 
 not covered with hair ; a few bristles in the scars and wrinkles of 
 the hody, and thinly scattered over the skin ; the hide resembles 
 the bark of an old tree more than the skin of an animal ; is subject 
 to that disorder known by the name of the elephantiasis, or Ara- 
 bian leprosy ; in what manner the Indians endeavour to prevent 
 it ; the flies torment this animal incessantly ; what arts it tries to 
 keep them off; in a state of nature, it rarely quits the river, and 
 often stands in water up to the belly, 41!', 420 ; from time imme- 
 morial employed for the purposes of labour, of war, to increase the 
 grandeur of Eastern princes, or to extend their dominions ; is a na.- 
 tive of Africa and Asia, still retains its natural liberty in Africa ; 
 during the splendour of the Carthaginian empire they were used in 
 the wars; no elephant found on this side Mount Atlas; places 
 where tiiey are in great numbers ; the greatest elephants found in 
 Asia : their price increases in proportion to their size ; the largest 
 kept for princes ; their colour ; that appropriated for the monarch's 
 own riding, kept in a palace, attended by nobles, and almost adored 
 by the people ; opinions concerning the white elephant ; the East- 
 ern princes maintain as many elephants as they are able, and place 
 freat confidence on their assistance in an engagement ; thr-y never 
 reed in a state of servitude, and the generative powers fail when 
 it comes under the dominion of man ; duration of pregnancy in the 
 female still a secret; what Aristotle and others say concerning this 
 and their young is doubtful; method of taking them wild in the 
 woods ; Negroes of Africa who hunt this animal for its flesh, take 
 it in pit-falls ; its attachment to the person who attends it ; it com- 
 prehends several of the signs made to it ; distinguishes the tone of 
 command from that of anger or approbation, and acts accordingly ; 
 executing orders with prudence, eagerly, yet without precipitation; 
 is taught to kneel down to receive its rider, usually mounted upon 
 its neck ; caresses those it knows ; salutes such as ordered to dis- 
 tinguish, and helps to take up part of its load ; takes a pleasure in 
 the finery of its trappings ; draws chariots, cannon, or shipping, 
 with strength, perseverance, and satisfaction, provided it be not 
 corrected without a cause, and that its master be pleased with its 
 exertions ; in what manner the conductor guides it ; frequently 
 takes such an affection to its keeper, as to obey no other ; has been 
 known to die of grief for killing its conductor in a fit of madness ; 
 surprising instance of moderation in its fury ; a word sufficient to 
 put it in motion, 420, 421 ; a century or two ago, the Indian gene- 
 rals made great dependence upon the number and the expertnes-s 
 9!" their elephants ; of late they are little used, except for drawing 
 cannon, and transporting provisions ; still they are used in war in 
 Siam. in Cochin-China, in Tonquin, and Pegu; in what manner 
 armixi and led to battle ; effects of its fury in the field ; those placed 
 upon its back, in a square tower, combat as from an eminence, and 
 fllBg dowll their \vcapons with double force ; nothing more dread- 
 ful or more irresistible than such moving machines to men unac- 
 quainted witli the modern arts of war; Romans quickly learned the 
 art of opening their ranks to admit the elephant, and separating it 
 from assistance, compelled its conductors to sooth the animal's 
 fury, and to submit ; sometimes, instead of obeying, turned upon 
 those it was employed to assist ; one elephant is known to consume 
 as much as forty men in a day ; they are now chiefly employed in 
 carrying or drawing burdens throughout the Peninsula of India ; it 
 can with ease draw more than six horses can remove ; it carries 
 upon its back three or four thousand weight, and upon its tusks it 
 can support near a thousand ; when pushed, it moves as swiftly as 
 a horse at full gallop ; it travels fifty or sixty miles a day, and, 
 hard pressed, almost double that quantity ; heard trotting on at a 
 rcat distance ; its track is deeply impressed on the ground, and 
 rom fifteen to eighteen inches in diameter ; used in India as exe- 
 cutioners, and with what dexterity they perform the horrid task ; 
 sometimes they impale the prisoner on their enormous tusks ; two 
 surprising instances how sensible it is of neglect ; the keeper de- 
 spising its endeavours when launching a ship, the animal redoubled 
 its efforts, fractured its skull, and died upon the spot ; revenge one 
 of them took upon a tailor who pricked its trunk with a needle in 
 Delhi ; is mindful of benefits ; instance of it ; at the Cape of Good 
 Hope they are liuntnd f >r the sake of their teeth ; in what manner ; 
 an account of an unhappy huntsman ; teeth of the elephant found 
 in a fossil state ; two grinding teeth, and part of the tusk of an ele- 
 phant, discovered at the depth of forty-two yards in a lead-mine in 
 Flintshire ; tusks of the elephants that come from Africa, seldom 
 exceed two hundred and fifty pounds ; it is defeated by the rhino- 
 ceros ; tusks of the Mammoth, often found fossil in Siberia, gene- 
 rally supposed to belong to the elephant, 423, 424. 
 
 E/r.p/tantiasis, or the Arabian leprosy, a disease to which man 
 
 I 
 
 and tlio elephant are equally subject ; in what manner the Indians 
 endeavour to preserve the elephant from it, 420. 
 
 Elizabeth (f^ir.oi,) her injunction upon fasting ; in the author's 
 opinion very unwise, 155 ; in her times, the whole kingdom could 
 not supply two thousand horses to form the cavalry, '222. 
 
 his principal experiment upon coroline substances ; he pnt 
 it past doubt, that corals and spnngcs were entirely the work of ani- 
 mals of the reptile or polypus kind. K17. 
 
 Elk, its size equal to that of the elephant ; is an animal rather of 
 tho buck than the stag kind ; known in America by the name of 
 the moose-deer ; is sometimes taken in the German and Russian 
 forests, but extremely common in North America ; its horns for- 
 tuitously dug up in many parts of Ireland, measuring ten feet nine 
 inches from tip to tip ; a small one the size of a horse, and the 
 horns a little larger than those of a common st.ig ; Jocolyn and 
 Dudley describe this animal above eleven feet high ; others extend 
 their accounts to twelve and fourteen feet ; never disturbs any other 
 animal, when supplied itself; a female of this kind shown at Paris 
 in the yonr 17-12; its description; they gave it thirty pounds of 
 bread every day, besides hav, and it drank ei"-ht buckets of water, 
 200, 270. 
 
 Elk (.Imcriran,) of two kinds, the gray and the black ; describ- 
 ed ; they prefer cold countries, feeding upon grass in summer, and 
 the bark of trees in winter ; time and manner of hunting them ; its 
 flesh very well tasted, and very nourishing ; its hide strong, and so 
 thick as to turn amnsket-ball ; yet is soil and pliable ; the horns ap- 
 plied to all the purposes for which hartshorn is beneficial ; this ani- 
 mal troubled with the epilepsy ; is but very indifferently and con- 
 fusedly described by travellers ; their various descriptions, 270, 271 ; 
 in what manner killed by the glutton, 34.1. 
 
 Elops, or Sea,-serpent, its description, 040. 
 
 Ely, an island, the country round it was once a most delightful 
 spot ; produced grapes that afforded excellent wine ; the sea break- 
 ing in, overwhelmed the whole country, 102. 
 
 Emtimtcl, (king of Portugal.} to try the strength of the elephant 
 and rhinoceros, made them fight, and the elephant was defeated, 42<i. 
 
 Embalming, the Egyptians carried this art to perfection ; copious 
 detail of this art as practised among them ; in Genesis, Joseph see- 
 ing his father expire, ordered his physicians to embalm the body, 
 1!':!; various methods of embalming, ib. ; the art still among the 
 Guanches, ancient inhabitants of the island of Teneriffe, when the 
 Spaniards conquered it ; particulars of their method of embalming ; 
 the Peruvians also understood this art, according to Father Acasto, 
 104 ; a mummy lately dug up in France, shows the art more com. 
 pletely understood in the western than the pastern world, 107. 
 
 Embroidery, done in India with porcupine quills, as belts, baskets 
 and necessary pieces of furniture, 376*. 
 
 Embryo, its first rudiments ; in a month an inch long ; the male 
 developes sooner than the female ; progress and increase of it, 130 
 to l:!2; in the human, the under-jaw much advanced before tho 
 upper, 144 ; brain and spinal marrow, first seen begun, 54 ; the 
 bones as soft as the flesh, 170. 
 
 Emigration, causes of emigration of birds, 457; manner perform- 
 ed, 458, 459. 
 
 Emu. an inhabitant of the New Continent, called also the Ameri- 
 can ostrich ; description and places where found ; runs so swiftly, the 
 dogs lose the pursuit ; one surrounded by hunters, the dogs avoided 
 its rage ; peculiar in hatching its young ; the young at first familiar ; 
 follow any person ; as they grow older, become cunning and dis- 
 trustful ; their flesh good to be eaten ; they live entirely upon 
 grass, 466, 467. 
 
 Encoubert of Buffon, the tatou of Ray, a shelly quadruped, 382. 
 
 England claims dominion over the seas encompassing Great 
 Britain and Ireland ; losing its superiority upon the ocean, its safe 
 ty becomes precarious, 08; late as King James I. the court still 
 furnished with a dwarf, a giant, and a jester, 188; the ass entirely 
 lost under queen Elizabeth, 226 ; more famous for its venison than 
 any other country in the world, 267 ; not infested with wolves, 321 
 the viper the only venomous animal there, 735. 
 
 Enquiries most intricate generally most useless, 125. 
 
 Entry, a term in the chase of the stag, 202. 
 
 Ephemera, various kinds of this insect ; ita description, colours 
 of their aurelias ; their transmutations ; places where found in 
 abundance ; short duration ; their impregnation, 780, 781. 
 
 Epicure, the greatest has the most depraved taste, 170. 
 
 E/iipnaniits (.?/.) lived a hundred and fifteen years, 155. 
 
 Ei/uator, description of the regions under it, 4. 
 
 Ermine, its description; alike in figure to the weasel; its fur the 
 
 most valuable of any ; the time in which it is called the stoat ; 
 
 manner of moulting its hair ; one ate honey, and died shortly after; 
 
 oroof of a distinct species from the pole-cat or the martin ; one of 
 
 6 H* 
 
20 
 
 EYE 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 FER 
 
 those, fed with eggs and flesh, lot them putrefy before it touched 
 either ; in Siberia taken in traps baited with flesh, and in Norway 
 shot with blunt arrows, or taken in traps; their skins a valuable 
 article of commerce in Siberia ; sometimes found white in Great 
 Britain, and is then called the white weasel ; its fur among us of no 
 value, 330 to 332 ; preys upon the leming, 370 
 
 Erne, kind of eagle ; its distinctive marks, 476. 
 
 Eruption of a volcano, remarkable, in 1537, 26 ; of Vesuvius, in 
 which Pliny the naturalist was suffocated, and the city of Hercula- 
 neum was overwhelmed; another of the same mountain, in 1707, 
 described; of Cotopaxi, in 1743, described by Ulloa ; matter thus 
 exploded lies a little below the bed of the mountains, in Mr. Buf- 
 fon's system ; but supplied from the deeper regions of the earth ; 
 the greatest part of Sicily seems covered with the eruptions of 
 mount Etna, 27 to 30. 
 
 Escu/a/jian serpent of Italy ; its excrement a pleasing perfume, 
 730; a domestic creature, 741. 
 
 Esox,or the pike, description of this fish, 650. 
 
 Esquimaux Indians described, 178. 
 
 Evaporation, cold diminishing the force of menstruums, promotes 
 evaporation ; theory for the formation of the clouds, 108 ; prevented 
 by moist weather ; dry frost assists evaporation, ib. 
 
 Evils, thousands of natural evils permitted to exist in the world, 
 and why, 6. 
 
 Eunuchs, of two kinds, the white and the black, 130; made in 
 Italy to improve the voice ; instance, in our country, of a very fine 
 woman married to an eunuch, ih. 
 
 Eujthamia, a city in Calabria, sunk by an earthquake, 35. 
 
 Euphrates, a river, its sources, 62 ; receives eleven rivers, 64. 
 
 Eurites, a city swallowed by an earthquake, 47. 
 
 Europeans resemble our common parent more than any of the 
 rest of his children. 185 ; argument which suffices to prove it, 186. 
 
 Eusfac/iiun tube a passage from the ear into the mouth ; its 
 use, 167. 
 
 Eice. See Buck-goat, 241. 
 
 Excri.mr.nl s of some serpents kept as the most pleasing perfume 
 at Calicut and Cranganon, in East India, 730. 
 
 Executioner, elephants in India used as such ; impale the crimi- 
 nals on their tusks, 424. 
 
 Exercise. (Manual,) hares taught to go through it, 347. 
 
 Exhalations, mineral, raised by subterranean heat, 163 ; when 
 copious every where fatal, 95. 
 
 Ex.ocr.lus, the flying fish, its description, 650. 
 
 Expt.ru.nre, repeated, shows how seldom pains are suffered, or 
 pleasures enjoyed, to the utmost, 177. 
 
 Expirimriit, by Mr. Belcher, upon the circulation of the blood 
 through the bones, 173 ; made by approaching a looking-glass to 
 the mouth to discover breathing, very uncertain, 177; of a carp 
 placed under an air-pump, IJ10 ; the famous experiment of Malpighi, 
 concerning the stigmata of the caterpillar, 7S6. 
 
 Extramuuf, or fossil shells, found in the bowels of the earth; in 
 this class there are as many kinds as in the sea itself, 680. 
 
 Eyes, opened by the infant the moment of its birth. 133; particu- 
 larly in them the passions are painted, 141 ; small and nearly closed, 
 ure liked in China and Japan, 140; different colours of the eye, 
 whence they arise ; eyes of oxen are brown ; those of sheep of a 
 water-colour ; of goats are gray ; and those of most white animals 
 are red ; distance between the eyes less in man than in any other ani- 
 mal. 142 ; iMontaigne disliked those men who shut one eye in look- 
 ing upon any object, 145; in what circumstances women with child 
 are said to be all mouth and eyes ; the lower eye-lids, in women with 
 child drawn downwards, 148; of all parts the animal has double, 
 the eyes produced soonest, and appear the most prominent, 159 ; pri- 
 vation of feeling and sight would misrepresent the situation and 
 number of all things around us, ib. ; two contribute to distinct and 
 extensive vision, ItJU ; both eyes see round the object, and give it 
 that heightened relief which no painting does attain to ; in either 
 if there he a point which has no vision, the defect is corrected by 
 having the organ double ; easy experiment to be convinced of it, 
 160 ; objects at a distance rarely equal in both eyes ; the best eyes 
 sees objects largest ; infants having their eyes less, must see objects 
 vmaller in proportion ; when we look at an object extremely bril- 
 liant, vision becomes indistinct, and why ; how far the eye can 
 accommodate itself to darkness, 163; remarkable instance of it in 
 a major under King Charles the First, ib. ; whence have arisen the 
 small eyes of the Tartars and Chinese. 185 ; Eastern poets compare 
 the eyes of their mistresses to those of the gazelle; the Greeks re- 
 semble the eyes of a beautiful woman to those of a cow, 76 ; of all 
 animals, natives of this climate, none have an eye so beautiful as 
 the stag, 200 ; that of the wolf opens slantingly upwards in the same 
 direction with the nose, 317; of UK; fox placed obliquely, like those 
 
 of the wolf, 222; of the civet shine in the night, 342 ; those of the 
 hare placed backwards, to see behind it as it runs, and these arc never 
 wholly closed, 346 ; peculiar advantages of the smallness of the eyo 
 in the mole, 371 ; description of the eyes of birds of the owl kind ; 
 in the eyes of all animals, a complete provision to shut out too 
 much light, or to admit a sufficiency, by contraction and dilation of 
 the pupil, 488 ; those of the great Greenland whale not larger than 
 those of an ox, 617 ; of the snail on the points of its largest horns, 
 682 ; peculiarities in the eyes of the chamelion, 721 ; eyes of the 
 butttrfly have not all the same form ; the outward coat has a lustre 
 displaying the various colours of the rainbow ; examined a little 
 closely, it will be found to have the appearance of a multiplying- 
 glass, 702 ; the beetle, in its worm state, has no eyes, 819. 
 
 Eye-brows, joining in the middle, considered a peculiar grace by 
 Tibullus, and by the Persians, 140 ; Le Brun's directions regarding 
 the passions, place the principal expression in them ; such as have 
 them most at command are the best actors, 142 ; the Talapoins of 
 Siam shave the eye-brows of the children committed to their care, 145. 
 
 Eye-lashes, man and apes only have them upon the upper and 
 the lower lids, all other animals want them on the lower lid, 142. 
 
 Eye-lids, in birds and amphibious quadrupeds, the lower lid alone 
 has motion ; fishes and insects have no eye-lids, 142. 
 
 F. 
 
 Face, its form, the result of custom, 185. See Beauty, 192. 
 
 Falcon- gentle, a kind of hawk ; it pursues the gazelle, 254 ; many 
 people admire its flesh, and dress it for eating, says Bellonius, 472; 
 method of training up this bird ; falconry, much disused among us, 
 was a principal amusement of our ancestors ; among the Welsh, 
 the king's falconer the fourth officer of the state, was forbid to 
 take more than three draughts of beer from his horn, lest he 
 should neglect his duty; the falcon-gentle and the peregrine much 
 less than the gyr-falcon, which exceeds all others in largeness; de- 
 scription of the gyr-falcoia ; a courageous and fierce bird, not fearing 
 the eagle ; it chiefly flies at the stork, the heron, and the crane ; is 
 chiefly found in the northern regions, but loses neither strength nor 
 courage when brought into the milder climates ; the falcon-gentle 
 moults in March or sooner ; the peregrjpe does not moult till 
 August ; the common falcon is of such spirit, that, like a con- 
 queror of a country, he keeps all in awe and subjection to his 
 prowess; young falcons, though depressed by captivity, will, when 
 brought out, fly at barnacles and wild geese ; the falcon's pursuit of 
 the heron, kite, or woodlark, the most delightful sport ; names of 
 the falcons in use here and in other countries, 482 to 486. 
 
 Falconers, by means of the great owl, catch the kite for the pur- 
 poses of training the falcon, and how, 490. 
 
 Faltopius, the two tubular vessels perceived by him, 123. 
 
 Famine supported by carnivorous animals for several weeks to- 
 gether, 208. 
 
 Fat of the shamois, its medicinal virtue ; fat of animals found 
 efficacious in some disorders, 250; of the manati, exposed to the 
 sun, has a fine smell and taste, and exceeds the fat of any sea- 
 animal ; the heat of the sun will not spoil it, nor make it rancid; 
 several other qualities of this fat, 397. 
 
 Father-lasher, description of this fish, G48. 
 
 Fawn, name of the buck and the doe the first year, 266. 
 
 Feathers of birds described, 449; of the ostrich almost as soft as 
 down, 462 ; different uses made of goose-feathers, 597. 
 
 Feather-beds, utterly unknown in countries bordering on the Le- 
 vant, and all Asia ; ancients did not use feather-beds ; Pliny speaks 
 of bolsters of feathers for their heads ; feathers make a considera- 
 ble article of commerce ; different qualities; best method of curing 
 them ; old feathers more valuable than new, 597. 
 
 Fecundity of the rabbit greater than the hare. 349. 
 
 Feeling, deprived of feeling, our eyes would misrepresent the 
 situation and the number of all things around us, 159 ; blind men 
 have their senses finer than others, and why ; the grossest and 
 most useful of the senses ; no total deprivation of it but with life ; 
 those parts most exercised in it, acquire the greatest accuracy ; the 
 fingers, by habit, greater in the art than others, not from their 
 having more nerves ; fishes having no organs for feeling, must be 
 the most stupid of all animals ; feeling, the guardian, the judge, and 
 the examiner of all the senses, is never found to deceive, 170, 171. 
 
 Ferret has eyes of a red colour, 141 ; not found at present 
 here, but in the domestic state; its description; a native of the 
 torrid zone ; naturally such an enemy of the rabbit, that a young 
 ferret, although unacquainted with the kind, will fiercely attack 
 and bite even a dead one ; use of ferrets in warrens to enter the 
 holes muzzled, and drive the rabbits into the nets at the mouth ; to 
 
FIS 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 FIS 
 
 21 
 
 bring the ferret from his hole, straw and other substances burnt at 
 the mouth ; the female less than the male, whom she seeks with 
 great ardour, and often dies without being admitted ; they sleep 
 almost continually, and the instant they awake seem eager for 
 food ; are usually fed with bread and milk ; breed twice a year ; 
 some devour their young as soon as brought forth, and then be- 
 come fit for the malu again ; they litter usually from five to six 
 young, and these consist of more females than males ; its scent 
 foetid ; its nature voracious ; has attacked and killed children in 
 the cradle ; is easily irritated, and then smells more offensively ; 
 its bite difficult of cure ; lias eight grinding teeth ; to the ferret 
 kind may by added an animal called by Mr. Buffon, the vansirc, 
 332, 333 ; comes originally from Africa, 3.11 . 
 
 Fever, opinion that tho lion is in a continual fever, 295. 
 Fumet, name of the excrement of the stag, 202. 
 Fibres, muscular, compose the stomachs of insects, 232. 
 Fieldfare, bird of the sparrow kind, 537. 
 Fielding. See Smile. 
 
 Figure, little known exactly of the proportion of the human 
 figure, 148 ; different opinions concerning it, 149; whence proceed 
 the variations in the human figure, 134 ; the oldest measure of the 
 human figure in the monument of Cheops, in the first pyramid of 
 Egypt, 141. 
 
 Finder, a dog of the generous kind, 312. 
 
 Fins, different purposes they answer in fishes, 606; those of 
 the whale ; their use, 617, 018. 
 Fin-Jink, 610 ; its food, 619. 
 
 Fingers, by habit, and not from a greater number of nerves, be- 
 come exacter in the art of feeling than any other part even where 
 sensation is more delicate and fine, 170. 
 
 Fire, perpetual in the kingdom of Persia, 25; advantages aris- 
 ing from the subterranean fires, 36 ; put out by the sun shining 
 upon it, and why, 98; fleeting balls of fire, 110; great globe of 
 fire seen at Bononia in Italy, not less than a mile long, and half a 
 mile broad, 111, 112; lighted to preserve herds and flocks from ani- 
 mals of the cat kind, 294. 
 
 Fireflare, the dread of the boldest and most experienced fisher- 
 men ; Pliny, ^Elian, and Oppian, supply the weapon of this fish 
 with a venom affecting even inanimate creation ; reasons to doubt 
 of it, 635. -^ 
 
 Fishes, petrified, found in the mountains of Castravan, 13; fish 
 in abundance found in a new formed island ; those who eat of them 
 died shortly after, 37 ; cannot live in water whence the air is ex- 
 h nstcd, 03 ; showers of fishes raised in the air by tempests, 114 ; 
 most of them produced from the egg, 126 ; have no eye-lids at all, 
 142; nor any neck. 147; are allured by music, 105; having n<t 
 organs for feeling, must be stupid, 170 ; a ruminating sort, 232; 
 opinion that all fish are naturally of the salt element, and have 
 mounted up into fresh water by accidental migration ; some swim 
 up rivers to deposit their spawn, of which the size is enormous, 
 and the shoals endless ; all keep to the sea, and would expire in 
 fresh water ; the number to which names are given, and of the 
 figure of which something is known, according to Linnaeus, are 
 above four hundred ; their pursuits, migrations, societies, antipa- 
 thies, pleasures, times of gestation, manner of bringing forth, are 
 all hidden in the turbulent element that protect them ; the history 
 of fishes can have little in it entertaining ; for instead of study- 
 ing their nature, p;iins have been taken to increase their cata- 
 logues ; that shape granted to most fishes, is imitated in such ves- 
 sels as are designed to sail with the greatest swiftness ; any large 
 fish overtakes a ship in full sail, with great ease ; takes voyages of 
 a thousand leagues in a season ; the shark one of the swiftest 
 swimmers ; the chief instruments in the motion of a fish are the 
 fins; in some they are more numerous than in others; it is not 
 always the fish with the greatest number of fins that has the 
 swiftest motion ; how the fins assist the fish in rising or sinking, 
 in turning or leaping out of the water ; all this explained by the 
 experiment of a carp put into a large vessel ; all fishes covered 
 with a slimy glutinous matter that defends tireir bodies from the 
 immediate contact of the surrounding fluid ; they fall behind ter- 
 restrial animals in their sensations ; their sense of touching and 
 fcinclling ; their sense of tasting ; hearing is found still more im- 
 perfect, if found at all ; Mr Gouan's experiment to this purpose; 
 from it is learned they are as deaf as mute ; their sense of seeing ; 
 their brain ; a ceaseless desire of food gives the ruling impulse to 
 all their motions ; their rapacity insatiable ; when out of water, 
 and almost expiring, they greedily swallow the bait by which they 
 were allured to destruction ; the maw placed next the mouth, and 
 though possessed of no sensible heat, is endued with a faculty of 
 digestion, contrary to the system, that the heat of the stomach is 
 aloua sufficient for digestion ; though for ever prowling, can suf- 
 
 fer want of food very long ; instances of it ; life of a fish but one 
 scene of hostility, violence, and evasion ; the causes of animal mi- 
 gration ; all stand in need of air for support ; those of the whale 
 kind come to the surface of the sea every two or three minutes to 
 breathe fresh air ; experiment of a carp in a large vase of water, 
 |j placed under an air-pump ; general method of explaining respira- 
 lj tion in fishes; the description and uses of their air-bladder; full 
 i; play of the gills prevented, or the bony covers kept from moving, 
 i the animal would fall into convulsions, and die, 005 to Oil ; some 
 '; fishes have no air-bladder ; can live but a few minutes without air ; 
 i nothing more difficult to account for than the manner of getting 
 this supply ; no part of the account of the use of the air-bladder 
 well supported ; Bacon's observations upon their growth and age ; 
 two methods for determining the age of fishes, more ingenious 
 than certain ; a carp found to be a hundred years old ; the disco- 
 very confirmed by authors ; longevity of these animals, nothing 
 compared to their fecundity ; some multiply by millions ; some 
 bring forth their young alive, and some produce eggs ; the former 
 rather the least fruitful ; the viviparous blenny brings forth two or 
 three hundred at a time, all alive, and playing round the parent ; 
 the cod spawns in one season above nine millions of eggs, the 
 flounder above one million, and the mackarel above five hundred 
 thousand ; different seasons for depositing spawn ; some fishes 
 have the tenderness of birds or quadrupeds for their young ; their 
 copulation as yet a doubt; the flesh of fishes; question to tho 
 learned concerning the flesh of fishes ; cetaceous fishes, 611 to 015 ; 
 cartilaginous fishes, 627 ; sucking fish sticks to the shark ; called 
 the shark's pilot, and why, 631 ; all fish more delicate about a 
 baited hook than their ordinary food, 633 ; best bait for all is fresh 
 herring cut in pieces of a proper size ; experience shows, the larger 
 fish take a living small one upon the hook sooner than any other 
 bait, 634 ; more than those of the ray kind possessed of the numb- 
 ing quality ; Condamine informs us of a fish with the powers of 
 the torpedo, and resembling a lamprey ; lamprey of the English 
 Severn the most delicate fish whatever, 037 ; sun-jish described, 
 043 ; lump-fish, ib. ; pipe-fsh, 644 ; ga.Ury-Jlsh, 645 ; spinous 
 fishes, ib. ; Mr. Gouan's system of spinous fishes, 647 to 651 ; use 
 of it; all fish of the same kinds have the same number of bones ; 
 the small, lean, and with many fins, the most bony ; vulgar expres- 
 sion, that fishes at some seasons are more bony than at others, 
 scarce deserves contradiction ; none imbibe the sea-saltness with 
 their food, or in respiration ; whence then do some fishes live 
 there, and quickly expire in fresh water ; some tribes live only in 
 the sea ; others only in fresh water ; some part of the season in 
 one, and a part in the other, as the salmon, the shad, the smelt, 
 and the flounder ; some fish, as the eel, descend the fresh water 
 stream, to bring forth their young in the sea ; in what season , 
 long voyages undertaken by some tribes that constantly reside in 
 the ocean, and may be called the fish of passage ; the stated re- 
 turns and regular progress of these fish of passage, the most ex- 
 traordinary circumstances in the history of nature ; the names 
 of several migrating fishes ; of all such, the herring and pilchard 
 take the most adventurous voyages ; places where found in abun- 
 dance, 651 to 654 ; in the islands of the Indian Ocean, an over- 
 quantity, in shoals, on the swamps, dried up by the sun ; the putre- 
 faction renders the eountry unhealthful ; amazing propagation 
 along our coasts and rivers not proportionate to the quantities 
 among the islands of the Indian Ocean ; places where the spawn 
 is deposited ; doubts whether most fish come from the egg com- 
 pletely formed ; manner in which the eggs of fishes are impreg- 
 nated wholly unknown ; the eel and the blenny bring forth their 
 young alive ; growth of fishes ; instances in the growth of tho 
 carp and mackarel ; all live upon each other, in some state of their 
 existence ; of those in the ocean of the spinous kinds, the dorado 
 the most voracious ; flying fish chiefly sought by the dorado ; their 
 warfare ; opinion that all fishes are natives of the sea, founded 
 upon their superior fecundity of breeding twenty to one ; certainly 
 fresh-water fishes abate of their courage and rapacity ; greediness 
 of the sea-fish to devour the bait prodigious compared with the 
 manner it is taken in fresh water ; difference of bait with which 
 they are caught ; some fishes rendered so torpid in the northern 
 rivers, as to be frozen up in the masses of ice, and continue there 
 several months, seemingly without life or sensation, waiting the 
 approach of a warmer sun, to invite them to life and liberty ; each 
 species of fish infested with worms of different kinds ; most viva- 
 cious animals ; often live upon substances poisonous to the mor9 
 perfect classes of animated nature ; numbers of fishes making poi- 
 sonous wounds scarcely to be doubted ; some fishes being poison- 
 ous is notorious ; the cause inscrutable ; Dr. Grainger, after re- 
 siding many years at St. Christopher's, affirms, that of fish caught 
 at one end of the island, some were good and wholesome, wfciilo 
 
FLE 
 
 1JNUEX. 
 
 FOX 
 
 others of the same kind, taken at a ditFcrrnt end, were dangerous, 
 and commonly fatal ; the Philosophical Transactions give an ac- 
 nount of poisonous qualities offish at New Providence; all kinds, at 
 different times, alike dangerous ;. the same species this day serving 
 is nourishment, the next found fatal ; speculations and conjectures 
 to which these poisonous qualities have given rise, 655 to 680. 
 
 Filc-Jish, most wonderful of the shelly tribe, l>!)4. See I'ho'.ndis. 
 
 Fishery of pearls, several ; chiefly carried on in the Persian Gulf, 
 via ; the people destined for the pearl-fisheries ; they die consump- 
 tive ; in what manner they fish for pearls, 692, 693. 
 
 Fig/iiiiv-froir, from its deformity called the sea-dcril ; conceit 
 t jat this tish'uses its two long beards or filaments for fishing ; 
 Rondeletius says, that the bowels taken out, the body appears trans- 
 parent ; and with a lighted candle in it, has a formidable appear- 
 ance ; fishermen have a great regard for this ugly fish, as an enemy 
 to the dog-fish ; when taken they set it at liberty, 6-O. 
 
 Fisfures, perpendicular, found in every field and every quarry ; 
 their causes, 18. 
 
 Fin til ar in, description of this fish, 650. 
 
 Flame will burn under water ; none found continuing to burn 
 without air, 97. 
 
 Flamingu, the most remarkable of the crane kind, the tallest, 
 bulkiest, and most beautiful ; its description ; chiefly found iu 
 America ; once known on all the coasts of Europe ; its beauty and 
 the peculiar delicacy of its flesh, have been such temptations to de- 
 stroy or take it, that it has long since deserted the shores frequent- 
 ed by men ; in deserted regions, the flamingos live in a state of socie- 
 ty, and under a better polity than others of the feathered creation ; 
 delicacy of its flesh ; when the first Europeans in America killed 
 one, the rest regarded the fall in fixed astonishment ; thus the 
 fowler levelled the flock, before any began to escape ; it is now one 
 of the scarcest and shyest birds in the world ; places it chiefly in- 
 habits ; always appoints one as a watch, who gives notice of dan- 
 ger with a voice shrill as a trumpet ; Negroes fond of their com- 
 pany, and think their society a gift of heaven, and protection from 
 evils ; these killed are hidden in the long grass, to prevent ill treat- 
 ment from the blacks discovering the murder of their sacred birds ; 
 are frequently taken with nets ; refuse all nourishment when taken ; 
 pine and die, if left to themselves in captivity ; its tongue is the 
 most celebrated delicacy ; a dish of them, says Labat, is a feast for 
 an emperor ; a Roman emperor had fifteen hundred flamingo's 
 tongues served up in a dish ; their tongue larger than any other || 
 birj ; its flesh ; they move in rank like cranes ; appear in flight of 
 a bright red as a burning coal ; manner of feeding very singular ; 
 savages of Canada call it tococo, and why ; time of breeding, and 
 their nests ; number of their eggs ; colour when young ; they be- 
 come familiar in five or six days, eat out of the hand, and drink 
 sea-water ; but generally pine away, wanting their natural supplies, 
 and die in a short time ; savages make ornaments of their plumes ; 
 and the skin sometimes serves the Europeans to make muffs, 
 564 to 567. 
 
 Flea, persecutes the hare, 348; it can draw a chain a hundred 
 times heavier than itself, and eat ten times its own size of provi- 
 sions in one day, 747 ; its description, 753 ; aborescent water-flea, 
 or monoculus, described, 598 ; Lewenhoeck has discovered above 
 six thousand facets on the cornea of a flea, 702. 
 
 Flemings possessed the art of cloth-working in a superior de- 
 gree ; were invited to settle here, 243. 
 
 flesh dries at Cusco like wood, without corrupting, 195 ; the 
 Persians esteem that of the wild ass so highly, that its delicacy is a 
 proverb among them, 224 ; of the fallow-deer preferred to any 
 other, 265 ; of the roe-buck, between one and two years old, allowed 
 the greatest delicacy known, 269 ; of the tiger, is good for food, 
 some hold it superior to mutton,, 302 ; of dogs, sold in shambles all 
 over China ; and the Negroes of the coast of Guinea esteem it a 
 delicacy , as likewise that of toads, lizards, and tigers, 315 ; that of 
 the wolf very indifferent ; no creature known to eat it but the wolf 
 himself, 322 ; of the squash, tolerable food, 339 ; that of the glut- 
 ton, not fit to be eaten, 344 ; of the hare, religiously abstained from 
 by the Jews, ancient Britons, and Mahometans, 348 ; of the paca, 
 considered a groat delicacv, 359 ; of the tendrac, thought by the 
 Indians a great delicacy, 375 ; of the pangolin, considered a very 
 great delicacy by the Negroes of Africa, 379 ; of the armadillo, or 
 tatou, said to be delicate eating, 381 ; of the seal, formerly found 
 place at the tables of the great, 396 ; of the monkey, liked by the 
 Negroes, 498 ; of the ostrich, proscribed in scripture unfit to be 
 eaten, 463; of the emu, or the American ostrich, good to be eaten, 
 467 ; of the dodo, good and wholesome eating, 76 ; of the vulture, 
 falcon, and osprcy, when young, excellent food, according to Bel- 
 lonius ; that of carnivorous birds, stringy and ill-tasted, soon cor- 
 raptiag, and tinctured with that animal food upon which they sub- 
 
 sist, 472 ; of the bird condor, as disagreeable as carrion, 477 ; of 
 the peacock, keeps unputrified longer than of any other animal, 
 498 ; that of the partridge, so valued by the French, according to 
 Willoughby, that no feast could be complete without it, 507; of the 
 pheasant, considered us the greutc.it dainty, 501 ; of the quail, a 
 very grent delicacy, 50(1 ; of the toucan, tender and nourishing, 519; 
 of the young herons, in particular estimation in France, 561 ; of the 
 bittern, greatly esteemed among the luxurious, 563 ; of the puffin, 
 formerly by the church allowed on Lenten days, 591 ; of fishes, 
 yield little nourishment ; questions proposed to the learned concern- 
 ing it, 613 ; of the young porpoise ; said to be as well tasted as veal, 
 (121) ; of the shark, hardly digestible by any but Negroes, who are 
 fond of it to distraction, 631 ; of the turtle, is become a branch of 
 commerce, 674 ; that of some crabs is poisonous, 603 ; of the great 
 Mediterranean turtle sometimes poisonous, (173. 
 
 Files torment the elephant unceasingly ; arts the elephant tries 
 to keep them off. 420 : dragon-fly, or the iibella, 76(i ; common wa- 
 ter-fly swims on its back, 779 ; the cornea so adapted by Puget, as 
 to see objects through it with a microscope ; strangeness of its re- 
 presentations ; does the fly see objects singly, as with one eye, or 
 is every facet a complete eye, exhibiting its objects distinct from 
 the rest, 792 ; the Spanish fly ? 822 See Cantha rides. 
 
 Flintshire, in a lead-mine there, two great grinding-tecth, and 
 part of the tusk of an elephant, discovered at the depth of forty -two 
 yards, 425. 
 
 Flounder, known to produce in one season above one million of 
 eggs, 612. 
 
 Fluids, ascending in vessels emptied of air ; rising in capillary 
 tubes, and how this comes to pass, 56. 
 
 Flux of the sea, 73; not equal in the straits of Magellan, 76. 
 
 Flij-rutc/ier, bird of the sparrow kind, 5:',<. 
 
 Flying-fish, its description, 650 ; chiefly sought by the dorado, 658. 
 
 Fly-trap, name of a flower, closing upon the flies that light upon 
 it, 828. ' 
 
 Fatus, the canal of communication through which the blood cir- 
 culates in the fcetus, without going through the lungs, has been 
 found open in some bodies that have been dissected, ti!'2. 
 
 Fongieang, natives of China give a fantastic description of this 
 imaginary bird, 503. 
 
 Fontenellc, a celebrated writer, of a weak and delicate habit of 
 body ; the remarkable equality of" his temper lengthened out his 
 life to above a hundred ; nothing could vex or make him uneasy, 
 174, 175. 
 
 Food, man can live without it for seven days ; a Scotchman for 
 the space of six weeks took no food at all, 155. 
 
 Foot, hares have the sole of it furnished with hair, 347. See 
 Hare and Hair. 
 
 Foramen ovule, opening in the heart of the foetus, 131; in the 
 seal's heart never closes, 393. 
 
 Forbin (C/iera/ier) his account of baboons forcing women in 
 Siam, 404. 
 
 Forehead, narrow, liked by the Romans, 140. 
 
 Forest, generally divided between monkeys and serpents, 407. 
 
 Formica leo, the linn-ant, described ; its habits ; its retreat ; its 
 contrivances for catching other insects ; when attaining a certain 
 age, changes its form; description when become a large and beau- 
 tiful fly of the libellula kind ; equally wonderful in all its different 
 stages of existence, 7(>8 to 770. 
 
 Fossil, teeth of elephants often found in that state, 425 ; bones 
 found in Peru and Brusil, which when cut and polished appear like 
 ivory, ib. ; shells in the bowels of the earth, not found in the 
 ocean, 680. 
 
 Fouinc, animal of the weasel kind, 335. 
 
 Fowls, large do not rise easily, and why, 450 ; few water-fowls 
 known to breed in England, and why, 457 ; those of reddish plu- 
 mage the ancients held invaluable ; the white, as unfit for domestic 
 purposes, and fit as prey to rapacious birds ; Aristotle thinks them 
 less fruitful than the former, 494 ; sea-fowls ever sporting on for- 
 midable sea-coasts, 584 ; general characteristics of water-fowls ; 
 their fuod ; the jjull kind ; the penguin kind ; the goose kind, 
 574, 575 ; water-fowls properly of no climate, 592. 
 
 Foxes hunt in packs ; taken young are gentle only while cubs, 
 growing older discover their natural appetites of rapine and cruelty, 
 309 ; their cubs born blind, like those of the dog ; the fox lives 
 about twelve or fourteen years ; remarkable instance of parental 
 affection of a she-fox ; all animals make war upon the fox ; even 
 the birds ; refuses to engender with the dog ; brings forth fewer 
 than the dog, and but once a year ; the female goes with young 
 six weeks, and seldom stirs out while pregnant ; various colours of 
 them ; three varieties of this animal in Great Britain; greyhound 
 fox, mastiff fox, ajid cur fox ; round the pole they are all cokmrs; 
 
GAD 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 GIA 
 
 23 
 
 jackal taken for the fox ; skin of the black fox most esteemed, a 
 single skin selling for forty or fifty crowns, the hair so disposed; 
 impossible to tell which way the grain lies, 323, 324 ; in Green- 
 land do not change colour at all, 331 ; many animals in this coun- 
 try bred between a dog and a fox ; experiments prove neither the 
 wolf nor the fcx of the same nature with the dog ; each a species 
 perfectly distinct, 315 ; nothing eatable comes amiss to them, rats, 
 mice, serpents, toads, and lizards ; insects, crabs, shrimps, and 
 shell-fish ; carrots, wax, and honey ; even the hedgehog, 323 ; 
 chase of the fox ; their offensive smell often the cause of their 
 death ; way they find to subsist ; name given by huntsmen to a 
 tbx of the second year ; old fox the name for the third year, 322, 
 323 ; exactly resembles the wolf and the dog internally, 322 ; de- 
 scription ; eyes obliquely situated like the wolf, 213; often takes 
 possession of the hole quitted by the badger, or forces it from its 
 retreat by art, 438. 
 
 Fox (crost) name of the isatis. when turning white, 327. 
 
 Fus-tailed monkey, of the sagoin kind, 412. 
 
 France, its kings of the first race had whiskers knotted and 
 buttoned with gold, 145; under Francis I. peacocks served up at 
 the tables of the great, not to be eaten, but seen, 407. 
 
 Frederic, emperor of Germany, wrote a treatise upon hawking, 
 402. 
 
 Friczland, great inundations happened in it, 82. 
 
 Vrieschaff, a hike where the sturgeon is found in great numbers, 
 640. 
 
 Frog, designedly introduced into Ireland before the Norway 
 rat, 363; the rat put a stop to their increase, and the frog is almost 
 extinct in that kingdom, 3(i4 ; differences between it and the toad, 
 in figure and conformaliori ; tbe frog the beet swimmer of all four- 
 footed animals ; its description ; male or female have no external 
 instruments of generation ; the anus serving for that purpose in 
 both ; coupling of the common brown frog ; experiments to dis- 
 cover how their impregnation is performed ; the female not im- 
 pregnated by the mouth, as conjectured, nor by the thumbs, as 
 imagined by Linnreus, but by inspersion of male seminal fluid 
 upon the eggs proceeding from the body ; how the female brings 
 forth eggs ; various changes in the eggs after impregnation by the 
 male; the animal in its perfect state, from feeding upon vegetables, 
 hrn. njes carnivorous ; lives upon worms and insects, and seeks for 
 food upon land ; myriads seen on such occasions, have been fan- 
 cied to be generated in the clouds, and showered down on earth ; 
 tiieir habitudes and food ; differences of sexes not perceivable, un- 
 til their fourth year ; do not begin to propagate till that period ; 
 live about twelve years; a German surgeon kept one eight years 
 in a glass covered with a net, fed it often, but sparingly ; instances 
 of tenaciousness of life ; the male only croaks ; from their croak- 
 ing in some countries distinguished by the ludicrous name of 
 Dutch Nightingales ; large water-frog's note as loud as the bellow- 
 ing of a bull, and heard at three miles distance ; times of their 
 croaking ; no weather-glass so true in foretelling changes ; adhere 
 to the backs of fishes ; story of Walton to this purpose ; dry wea- 
 ther hurtful to frogs, 6<7, 698. See Fishing-frog. 
 
 Frost, dry, augments evaporation, 168. 
 
 Frost-smoke, fogs near the pole from halos, or luminous circles, 113. 
 
 Froth-worm, its description, 77!). 
 
 Fumes of hot iron, copper, or other metal, blown into the place 
 where an animal is confined, instantly destroys it, 93. 
 
 Fur, the colder the country, the larger and warmer the fur ; 
 instances of it, 210 ; of the white fox not esteemed, and why, 325 ; 
 the isatis of no value, unless killed in winter, 327 ; the ermine the 
 most valuable of any, 331 ; no easy matter to account for warmth 
 of furs of northern quadrupeds, or how they come to have such 
 abundant covering ; particulars on this subject, ib. ; white weasel, 
 found in Great Britain, of no value ; ermine in evorv country 
 o lunges by time, 332; of the pole cat in less estimation than some 
 of inferior kinds, from its offensive smell, which can never be re- 
 moved, 334 ; of the yellow-breasted martin more valuable and 
 beautiful than the white, 335 ; different colours of the sable, 330 ; 
 of the genet valuable. 340 ; of the civet impregnated with the per- 
 fiime, 341 ; of the glutton has the most beautiful lustre, and is pre- 
 ferred to all except the Siberian sable, 344 ; of the hare forms a 
 considerable article in the hat manufacture, 348 ; of the cricetus, or 
 German rat, very valuable, 308 ; inside down of the vulture's 
 wing makes a warm and comfortable kind of fur, 479. 
 
 G. 
 
 Gad-fly, formidable in Lapland ; brings on an incurable disorder 
 upon the rein-deer ; precautions used against them, 274. 
 Gadus, the cod-fish, its description, 050. 
 
 Gaganda, island of Ethiopia ; parrots found there by the Ro- 
 mans, 529. 
 
 Galam, a place 900 miles up the Senegal, taken from the French, 
 C2. 
 
 Galen asserts the eggs of hens and pheasants good to be eaten ; 
 those of geese and ostriches worst of all, 400. 
 
 Galinassos, Spanish name of vultures in America, 481. 
 
 Gall of the shammoy held useful to strengthen the sight, 250 ; 
 the deer kind have none, 257. 
 
 Gall-nuts, description of the insect forming and residing in 
 them, and its transformations, 824. 
 
 Galley-fish, its description ; its legs adhesive ; common in 
 America, perpetually floating ; no efforts made to hurt, can make 
 it sink ; never perceived to move on shore, so strongly adhering to 
 whatever substances applied ; the smallest quantity of slimy sub- 
 stance from its legs, burns the skin like hot oil ; extremely common 
 along all tlie coasts in the Gulf of Mexico ; the shore covered 
 with them, a forerunner of a storm, 645. 
 
 Galley-irorm, its difference from the scolopendra, 762. 
 
 Game, sanguinary laws to preserve it, 261. 
 
 Gangm. a river visited annually by a hundred thousand pilgrims, 
 who pay their devotions to it as to God, C2 ; in its course receives 
 twenty rivers, 63, 
 
 Guiniet, the soland goose, its description; subsists upon fish; 
 places abounding with them ; manner of preserving them and their 
 eggs, in the island of St. Kilda; the inhabitants of that island 
 principally subsist on them throughout the year ; twenty-three 
 thousand of this kind of young birds consumed annually there ; a 
 bird of passage ; its migrations ; never comes near the land ; 
 where seen, it announces the arrival of herrings; exceeds the cor- 
 morant in quickness of sight ; method of taking its prey ; manner 
 of taking them at sea ; number of their eggs ; their young counted 
 a great dainty, and sold very dear, 582. 583. 
 
 Garter-fish, the lipidopus, its description, 650. 
 
 Gasterostcus, or tlie stickleback, description of this fish, 649. 
 
 Gazelles, neither goat nor deer; partake of both natures ; they 
 form a distinct kind ; their description ; of all anirnnls it has the 
 most beautiful eye ; Eastern poets compare the eyes of their 
 mistresses to those of the gazelle ; Buffon makes but twelve va- 
 rieties ; their names and description* ; comparing them together, 
 we find but slight distinctions; are inhabitants of the warmer cli- 
 mates ; no animals, but of the winged kind, can overtake them ; 
 are pursued by falcons, and this hunting is a principal amusement 
 among the great in the East ; also hunted with the ounce ; another 
 way of taking them ; kep in solitary and inaccessible places, 
 250 to 253 ; the bubalus. more properly one of Africa, 272 ; the 
 most usual prey for the lion, in deserts and forests. 9P5 ; the prey 
 of the panther, 304 ; pursued by the jackal, makes towards houses 
 and towns, 326. 
 
 Gek/to, a kind of salamander, 717. 
 
 Generation most complete where fewest animals are produced, 
 132 ; late discovery that male fishes have two organs of genera- 
 tion, 612; all animals of the snail kind are hermaphrodites, each 
 containing the instruments of generation double, 685 ; these organs 
 in the mussel, 688 ; tlie male or female frogs have no external in- 
 struments for that use. 698. 
 
 Genet, its odour more faint than civet ; description of this animal ; 
 resembles the martin ; more easily tamed ; Bellonius has seen them 
 at Constantinople tame as cats ; glands open differently from 
 others of its kind ; called the cat of Constantinople ; never found 
 in mountains or dry places ; its fur valuable ; species not much 
 diffused ; countries where it is found ; the most beautiful, cleanly, 
 and industrious animal ; keeps a house free from mice and rats by 
 its smell, 340. 
 
 Genette, of the province of Andalusia the best, 218. 
 
 Georgians, their description, 1*3. 
 
 Gerenda. a serpent, to which the natives of Calicut and those of 
 the Mozambique coast pay divine honours, 741. 
 
 Germanij, the meanest peasant kills a cow for his table, salts and 
 hangs it up, and preserves it as a delicacy all the year round, 281. 
 Gesner, minutely describes a variety of mouse-traps, 365; 
 places bats among birds, 381. 
 
 Giant, in England, as late as King James I. the court had one, 
 188. 
 
 Giants, probability of the race affirmed, possibility of their ex 
 istence denied; Grew's opinion ; Ferdinand Magellan, a Portu- 
 guese, first discovered a race of such people, towards the extreme 
 coast of South America ; assent to the existence of this <_ r igantie 
 race of mankind ; travellers confirm it ; seen here, have the same 
 defects of understanding as dwarfs ; are heavy, phlegmatic, stupid* 
 and inclined to sadness, 190 to 192. 
 
GOA 
 
 hNDEX. 
 
 GRA 
 
 Gibbon, the long-arme'l ape, its description, -103. 
 
 Gills, their free play prevented, the animal falls into eom-uleions 
 and dies in a few momenta, OOM. 
 
 Gilthcad, called dolphin by sailors ; its description, 648. 
 
 Gimcrro, imagined a breed between an ass and a hull, 226. 
 
 Glands, furnish the foetiil substances in animals of the weasel 
 kind, 330 ; of the genet open differently from others, 303 ; unctuous 
 in birds to preserve their feathers, 37; salivary in the gullet and 
 crop of birds, 43. 
 
 Glass, a looking-glass held to the mouth of a person supposed to 
 be dead, an uncertain experiment for determining latent life, 177. 
 
 Glitters, little impressions BO called in the heads of stags, 202. 
 
 Globe of Jirc rising from the side of the mountain Pichinca; a 
 great one seen at Bononia, in Italy, in the year 1670 ; past west- 
 ward at the rate of a hundred and sixty miles in a minute : could 
 not be less than a mile long, and half a mile broad, 111. 
 
 Globe of glass, filled with water, assumes successively all the 
 colours of the rainbow, 112. 
 
 Gloucester, its corporation had an old custom annually to present 
 the king with a lamprey pye, 585. 
 
 Glow-worm, male and female of this species differ entirely from 
 each other ; how and in what manner the light sent forth by the 
 glow-worm is produced, hitherto inexplicable ; the light continues 
 to grow paler, and at last is totally extinct, if the worm be kept for 
 sometime, 821,822. 
 
 Glue, made of the horns of the rein-deer, 277 ; Mr. Jackson 
 found out a method of making glue to answer the purposes of 
 isinglass, 042. 
 
 Glutton, the most dangerous and most successful persecutor of 
 the rein-deer ; its manner of killing that deer, 277 ; belongs to the 
 weasel-kind ; there is no precise description of it, some resembling 
 it to a badger, some to a fox, others to a hyiena ; one brought alive 
 from Siberia, was three feet long, and about a foot and a half high, 
 342 ; so called from its voracious appetite ; countries where found ; 
 called carcajou in North America ; general description ; Ray and 
 Others doubt of its existence ; endued with great patience ; watches 
 for its prey for several days together ; takes its prey by surprise, 
 and in what manner ; darts down from the branches of trees upon 
 the elk or the rein-deer, sticks its claws between their shoulders ; 
 and remains there firm, eating their necks, and digging to the great 
 blood vessels that lie in that part ; amazing quantity one of these 
 nimala can eat at a time ; that seen by Mr. Klein, without exer- 
 eise or air, taken from its native climate, and enjoying but indifferent 
 ealth, ate thirteen pounds of flesh every day, and was not satisfied ; 
 \ continues eating and sleeping till its prey, bones and all, be de- 
 voured ; prefers putrid flesh to that newly killed ; it is so slow that 
 ny quadruped can escape it, except the beaver; pursues it upon 
 and ; but the beaver taking water, the glutton has no chance to 
 4ucceed ; called the vulture of the quadrupeds ; in what manner it 
 Hakes up by stratagem the defects of nature ; the female goes with 
 roung four months, and brings forth two or three ; the male and 
 Vuia'.e equally resolute in defence of their young ; is difficult to be 
 skinned ; does not fear man ; is a solitary animal, and never in com- 
 pany but with its female ; couples in the midst of winter ; the flesh 
 not fit to be eaten ; the fur has the most beautiful lustre, and pre- 
 ferred to all, except the Siberian-fox, or the sable, 343, 344. 
 
 Gnats, in Lapland, fill the air like clouds of dust ; are chiefly ene- 
 mies to the rein-deer ; remedies used against them, 273 ; proceed 
 from a little worm ; usually seen at the bottom of standing waters ; 
 curious manner in which their eggs are laid ; in their egg state it 
 resembles a buoy, fixed by an anchor ; different states of the insect ; 
 in its last transformation divested of a second skin, in the next it 
 resigns ita eyes, its antennse, ami its tail, and seems to expire ; from 
 the spoils of the amphibious animal appears a little winged insect, 
 whose structure is an object of admiration ; description of this in- 
 sect, and of its trunk, justly deemed one of Nature's master-pieces ; 
 implement with which the gnat performs its work in summer ; 
 places where it spends the winter ; the little brood so numerous 
 that the water is tinged with the colour of the species ; some gnats 
 oviparous, others viviparous, and come forth in a perfect form; 
 some are males, and unite with the female ; some are females re- 
 quiring the male ; others are of neither sex, and produce young 
 without copulation ; at the sixth generation the propagation stops, 
 the gnat no longer reproduces its likeness, but requires the male to 
 renew its fecundity ; produced in multitudes beyond expression in 
 America ; and found of all sizes, from six inches long, to a minute- 
 ness beyond the perception of the common eye ; native Indians, 
 anointed with oil. sleep in cottages covered with thousands of gnats, 
 and have not their slumbers interrupted by these cruel devourers, 
 825, 826. 
 
 Goal, ita eyes are gray, 142 ; from Europe imported into South 
 
 America, soon degenerates ; as it grows less it becomes more pro- 
 lific; imported to the African coast, it seems to improve, 211, 
 goat and sheep propagate together, and may be considered as of 
 one family ; the buck-goat produces with the ewe an animal in two 
 or three generations returning to the sheep, and retaining no marks 
 of its ancient progenitor, 56 ; more fitted for a life of savage 
 liberty than the sheep; more lively aid more possessed of animal 
 instinct ; it is not easily confined . its flock, but chooses its own 
 pasture, and loves to stray from the rest ; delights in climbing pre- 
 cipices ; walks as securely on the ridge of a house, as on the level 
 ground ; is capricious and vagrant ; is not terrified at storms, or in- 
 commoded by rain ; immoderate cold affects it, and produces a ver- 
 tigo, to which this animal is subject ; a hardy animal, and very 
 easily sustained, for which reason chiefly the property of the poor ; 
 its favourite food is the tops of boughs, or the tender bark of young 
 trees ; proof of its being naturally the friend of man, and that it 
 seldom resumes its forest wildness, when once reduced into th 
 state of servitude ; in some places they bear twice a year ; in 
 warmer climates generally bring forth three, four, and five, at once ; 
 one buck sufficient for a hundred and fifty goats ; milk of goats 
 medicinal ; not apt to curdle on the stomach ; in several parts of 
 Ireland and the highlands of Scotland the goat the chief possession 
 of the inhabitants ; flesh of the goat, properly prepared, ranked by 
 some not inferior to venison ; is never so good and so sweet in our 
 climate as mutton ; no man can attend above fifty goats at a time ; 
 flesh of the goat found to improve between the tropics ; remarkable 
 varieties in this kind ; that of Natoli, by Mr. Buft'on called goat of 
 Angora; its description; the Assyrian goat of Gesner ; chieflv 
 kept about Aleppo ; little goat of Africa, the size of a kid, has hair 
 as long as the ordinary breed ; Julia goat, not much larger than a 
 hare ; common in Guinea, Angola, and the coast of Africa ; blue 
 i goat, at the Cape of Good Hope ; its description, 245 to 2-17 ; 
 boundaries between the goat and the deer kind difficult to fix, 250; 
 Bfzoar gottt, the pazan, found in the mountains of Egypt, 251 ; 
 African wild goat of Grimmius. fourth anomalous of the kind ; its 
 description, 253; goats eat four hundred and forty-nine plants, and 
 reject a hundred and twenty-six, 280 ; in Syria, remarkable for their 
 fine, glossy, long, soft hair, 292. 
 
 Goat-sucker, a nocturnal swallow ; description and habits, 546. 
 
 Gobius, the gudgeon, description of this fish, 648. 
 
 Godigmis, in his history of Abyssinia, exaggerates the effects of 
 the shock of the torpedo, to an incredible degree, 637. 
 
 Godwit, its dimensions, 568 ; a bird of passage, 570. 
 
 Gojam, kingdom, where the Nile takes its rise, 62. 
 
 G.;/rf never contracts rust, and why ; except in places where 
 much salt is used, 92. 
 
 Golden-eye, bird of the duck kind, 598. 
 
 Gol/lfinch, bird of the sparrow kind, 537 ; learns a song from the 
 nightingale, 546. 
 
 Goose, marks of the goose kind ; abstained from by the ancient* 
 as indigestible, 592, 593 ; one known to live a hundred years ; 
 marks of the tame and wild sort ; wild supposed to breed in the 
 northern parts of Europe ; flight regularly arranged, 596. 
 
 Goose (Brent,) most harmless, but for their young pursue dogs 
 and men ; use of its feathers in beds unknown in countries of the 
 Levant and Asia ; feathers a considerable article of commerce ; dif- 
 ferent qualities of them ; the best method of curing them, 596, 597. 
 
 Goose (Soland) described. Sec Gannrt, 582. 
 
 Gooseander, a round-billed water-fowl, its description ; feeds 
 upon fish, 296. 
 
 Gordian, the emperor, wrote a poem upon the halcyon, of which 
 are no remains, (i()2. 
 
 Goss-hau-k, of the baser race of hawks, 482; taught to fly at 
 game; little obtained from its efforts, 46ti. 
 
 Gottenburg, in Sweden, a cataract near it, 65. 
 
 Gouan, a learned Frenchman, his system deserves applause for 
 more than its novelty ; how followed in arranging the spinous 
 classes of fishes, 047. 
 
 Graaf, his observations upon the progress and increase of ani- 
 mals in the womh, 12!). 
 
 Grampus, fierce and desperate in defence of its young ; remark- 
 able instance, 015 ; description and habits, 624. 
 
 Grasslioppef.a ruminating insect, or seemingly so, 232; diffe- 
 rences between ours and the cicada of the ancients ; great varieties 
 of this animal in shape and colour ; description of the little grass- 
 hopper that breeds plentifully in meadows, and continues chirping 
 through the summer ; the male of this tribe only vocal ; how their 
 fecundation is performed ; the male or female never survive the 
 winter ; their eggs from first appearing, possessed of wings ; how it 
 gets rid of the outer skin ; their food ; places where they deposit 
 their eggs, 771 to 773. 
 
GUI 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 I1AI 
 
 Grave, the greatest care recommended not to commit those 
 dearest to us to the grave, before real signs of certain death be 
 ascertained, 177. 
 
 Greta/i, river in Yorkshire running under ground, and rising 
 again, 66. 
 
 Grebe, description of this bird ; residence and habits ; perpetual- 
 ly diving, and very difficult to be shot ; never seen on land ; chief- 
 ly sought for the skin of its breast, and why ; in breeding-time 
 their breasts are bare, 573. 
 
 Gree7ijinch, bird of the sparrow kind, 537. 
 
 Greenland, Cntntz's account of the formation of ice-monntains 
 in that country, 72, 73 ; aurora bortalis, its appearance almost con- 
 stant in winter ; the inhabitants not entirely forsaken in the midst 
 of their tedious night, this aurora- affording them light for the pur- 
 poses of existence, 1 13 ; they live mostly upon seals ; their number 
 daily diminishing, and why, 306. 
 
 (ir?ri<lunde,rs, described, 178; customary among them to turn 
 I'uropciiiis into ridicule ; a quiet, or a modest stranger, they deem 
 almost as well bred as a Greenlander, 179. 
 
 Gifir, his opinion concerning dwarfs and giants, 190. 
 
 Greyhound kind, 312 ; greyhound fox, 325. 
 
 Grii, the petit gris, Mr. Burton's name for the gray Virginian 
 squirrel. 3-Y.'. 
 
 Grusslteak, bird of the sparrow kind, 538. 
 
 Grotto of .iiuijniros, in the Archipelago, the most remarkable 
 subterraneous cavern now known ; description, 28. 
 
 Grotto del Cane, near Naples, situation and description ; noxious 
 effects, 25. 
 
 Groits, chiefly found in heathy mountains and pinv forests, 505. 
 
 Growth of the child less every year, till the time of puberty, 
 when it starts up of a sudden ; growth of the mind in children cor- 
 responds with that of the body, and why, 135, 136 ; of some young 
 people ceases at fourteen or fifteen ; of others continues till two 
 or three and twenty, 140 ; of fishes irregular and tardy, (J57. 
 
 Guadulquii'er, river in Spain buried iu sand, 60. 
 
 Guanarues, a kind of camel in America, 434. 
 
 Guam-lies, ancient inhabitants of the island of TenerifF; art of 
 embalming still preserved among them, when the Spaniards con- 
 quered the island, 194. 
 
 Giuiribu, Brasilian guariba, or warine, the largest of the monkey- 
 kind in America, described, 412. 
 
 Guayaquil, river in South America, 43. 
 
 Gat/aeon, fresh-water sort, as well as the anchovy, has no bladder, 
 61 1 ; description of this fish, 648. 
 
 Guiba. animal resembling the gazelle ; its description, 253. 
 
 Guilltmut, bird of the smaller tribe of the penguin kind, 500. 
 
 Guinea, the natives kill numbers of hares at a time, and in what 
 manner, 348. 
 
 Guinea-ass, larger a.nd more beautiful than the horse, 226. 
 
 Guinea-lit n. described, 503. 
 
 Guinea-horse., remarkable exercise and sports with it among the 
 grandees of that country, 220. 
 
 Guinea-pig, by Brisson placed among the rabbit kind ; native of 
 the warmer climates ; rendered domestic, and now become common 
 every where ; its description ; in some places a principal favourite ; 
 often displacing the lap-dog ; manner of living among us ; most 
 helpless and inoffensive, scarce possusse j of any courage ; their ani- 
 mosity exerted against each other ; often right obstinately, and the 
 stronger destroys the weaker ; no natural instinct, the female sees 
 her young destroyed without attempting to protect them ; suffer 
 themselves to be devoured by cats ; fed upon recent vegetables, 
 they seldom drink; sometimes gnaw clothes, paper, or other things 
 of the kind , drink by lapping ; confined in a room, seldom cross 
 the floor, but keep along the wall ; never move abreast together ; 
 chiefly seek the most intricate retreats, and venture out only when 
 all interruption is removed, like the rabbits ; in cold weather more 
 active ; a very clennly animal ; their place must be regularly 
 cleaned, and a new bed of hay provided for them once a week ; the 
 young falling into the dirt, or other ways discomposed, the female 
 takes an aversion to them, and never permits them to visit her 
 more ; her employment and that of the male, consists in smoothing 
 their skins, disposing their hair, and improving its gloss, and take 
 this office by turns ; do the same to their young, and bite them 
 when refractory ; reared without any artificial heat ; no keeping 
 them from tire in winter if once permitted to approach it ; manner 
 of sleeping ; the male and female watch one another by turns ; 
 never seen both asleep at the same time ; generally capable of 
 coupling at six weeks old; time of their gestation; the female 
 brings forth from three to five at a time ; not without pain ; the fe- 
 male admits the male the very day she ban brought forth, and again 
 
 NO. 77 & 7*. 
 
 becomes pregnant ; suckles her young about twelve or fifteen days, 
 and suffers the young of others, though older, to drain her, to tkn 
 disadvantage of her own ; produced with eyes open, and in twelve 
 hours equal to the dam in agility ; capable of feeding upon vegeta- 
 bles from the beginning ; their disputes for the warmest place, or 
 most agreeable lood ; manner of fighting ; moat timorous creature 
 upon earth, a lalling leaf disturbs them, and every animal overcomes 
 them ; flesh indifferent food ; difficultly tamed ; suffer no approaches 
 but of the person who breeds them ; manner of eating; drink sel- 
 dom, and ui..k writer often; grunt like a young pig; appear to 
 chew the cud, 3GI) to :;i;-j 
 
 Guineji-flir.rp, have a kind of dewlap under the chin ; breed with 
 other sheep, therefore not animals of another kind, 244. 
 
 Qv&ratemg&i name given by the natives of Brasil to the little 
 taovd-pr.c.kr.r, 521. 
 
 Gulls, places where found in plenty; their food, 584; various 
 ways of imposing upon each oilier ; contests in breeding ; resi- 
 dence, with their nests und eggs ; their flesh : method of taking 
 them in the P'eroe islands; anciently n law in Norway concerning 
 those who died in taking them, riSV 
 
 Gulf, the Persian ; deadly wind along its coasl.--. I'l.'i: chief pearl 
 fishery carried on there, tiH2. 
 
 Gun, wind-gun, instrument determining the elasticity of the air ; 
 a ball from it pierces a thick board, 90 ; great guns, in climates 
 near the equator, with every precaution, after some years become 
 useless, and why. !>'->. 
 
 Gunpowder, readily fires with a spark, not with the flame, 24; 
 will not go off in an exhausted receiver ; a train of gunpowder laid, 
 one part in open air, the other part in vacuo, the latter will remain 
 untouched, 97. 
 
 Gunmrd, description of this fish, 649. 
 
 Gustavus Jidoljtl.us, attempted in vain to form a regiment of 
 Laplanders, as they can live but in their own country, and in their 
 own manner, 178. 
 
 Guts, most birds have two blind guts, which in quadrupeds are 
 found single, 452. 
 
 Gymiwtus, the Curapo, description of this fish, 640. 
 
 Gyr-faleou, exceeds all others in largeness of size ; its descrip- 
 tion, 483. 
 
 Gyrle, name given by hunters to the roebuck, the second 
 year, 268. 
 
 II 
 
 Ifnl>it, contracted during life, to make out pleasures and pains ip 
 extremes, though either can hardly be suffered or enjoyed to the 
 utmost, 177. 
 
 Haddock, a periodical shoal appeared on the Yorkshire coasts, on 
 December 10, 171)6, and exactly on the same day in the following 
 year, 653. 
 
 Hteniorrhois, a kind of serpent, 730. 
 
 Hail, Cartesians say, is a frozen cloud half-melted and frozen 
 again in its descent ; the most injurious meteor in our climate ; 
 hail-stones fourteen inches round ; struck out an eye of a young 
 man, and killed him on the spot ; a dreadful shower recorded by 
 Mezeray, fell in 15)0; the hail-stones were of a blueish colour, and 
 some weighed a hundred pounds ; the fishes were general sufferers 
 in that great calamity, 109, 110. 
 
 Hair of the Roman ladies praised for the redness of its shade, 
 140; the hair under the temples and at the back of the head seldom 
 known to fail ; found most different in different climates ; marks the 
 country and the disposition of tlje man ; by the ancients held a sort 
 of excrement, produced like the nails ; according to moderns, every 
 hair lives, receives nutriment, fills and distends, like other parts of 
 the body ; takes colour from the juices flowing through it ; each, 
 viewed with a microscope, consists of five or six lesser, wrapped up 
 in one common covering, and sends forth branches at the joints ; 
 suitable to the size or shape of the pore through which it issues ; 
 bulbous at the root, and its ends resemble a brush; length and 
 strength of hair a mark of a. good constitution ; Americans and the 
 Asiatics have it thick, black, straight, and shining ; inhabitants of 
 the torrid climates of Africa have it black, short, and woolly ; the 
 people of Scandinavia have it red, long, and curled ; opinion that 
 every man has dispositions resembling tho.-e of the inhabitants of 
 countries he resembles in the colour and nature of his hair ; curled 
 hair among us a beauty ; the Greeks have taken one of their na 
 tional distinctions from the length and straightness of the hair, 
 142, 143 ; Americans take the greatest pains in cutting their hair ; 
 the Tartars waved a long and bloody war with the Persians be- 
 6 I 
 
26 
 
 JIAR 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 IIEA 
 
 cause they would not give their whiskers the orthodox cut ; variety 
 in customs and manner of cutting hair, 145 ; trade of the inhabitants 
 of Angora with the hair of animals of their country ; camblet and 
 the other stuffs made of it, 247; hair of the cat rubbed in the dark, 
 sends forth shining sparks, 2!>0 ; Syria and Persia noted for long 
 soft hair to the animals bred in them, 292 ; each hair of the lynx ot 
 three different colours ; of the black fox so disposed as impossible to 
 tell which way the grain lies, 325 ; coats of hair seem to thicken at 
 the approach of winter ; among quadrupeds, as among men. thin 
 spare diet produces hair, 331 ; on the soles of the feet, and on the 
 inside of the mouths of hares, 347. 
 
 Halcyon, a. rapacious water-fowl, 602. See King-fisher. 
 
 Halle.y (Dr.) his plausible theory to explain the invariable mo- 
 tion of the winds, 100, 101. 
 
 Hallontide, in 1580 ; an army of mice so over-run the marshes 
 near Southminster, that they eat up the grass to the roots, 491. 
 
 Halos, or luminous circles, oftener seen in countries near the 
 poles, than any other part of the earth, 113. 
 
 Hammer, the yellow, bird of the sparrow kind, 533. 
 
 Hamster, the cricctus or German rat of Mr. Burton. 368. 
 
 Hand, sufficient to vindicate the dominion of man over other ani- 
 mals, a poor assertion ; a man without hands or legs, converts his 
 stumps to most convenient purposes, and performs astonishing 
 feats of dexterity, 415, 416. 
 
 Harbour of a stag, in covert or thicket, 962. 
 
 Hare, a gregarious animal, where it has no enemies but beasts 
 of the forest, 231 ; the swiftest animal for the time it continues to 
 run, 345 ; animals of the hare-kind inoffensive and timorous ; being 
 the prey of every voracious animal, are incessantly pursued ; placed 
 by I'yerius among those that chew the cud ; whether or not, cer- 
 tainly the lips continually move sleeping or waking ; they use their 
 fore-paws like hands : tliat kind remarkably salacious, and furnished 
 by nature with ampler powers than others for propagation ; if not i 
 thinned by constant depredations, would over-run the earth ; of I 
 these, the hare the largest and most timorous : has large prominent | 
 yes placed backwards to see behind as it runs ; these never closed ; > 
 it sleeps with them open ; the ears moveable, and capable of direc- j 
 tion to every quarter ; muscles of its body strong and without fat ; j 
 hinder feet longer than the fnre on account of speed ; persecuted 
 by dogs, cats, weasels, and birds of prey ; in a state of engendering 
 very early ; females go with young thirty days, and bring forth 
 three or four at a time ; has young of different ages in her womb j 
 together ; though already impregnated she admits the male, and 
 receives a second impregnation ; reason of this extraordinary cir- 
 cumstance ; the young brought forth with their eyes open ; the 
 dam suckles them twenty days ; food they are fond of; sleep or re- 
 pose in their form by day. and live only by night ; the rutting sea- 
 son begins in February ; the male pursues and discovers the female 
 by the sagacity of its nose ; the slightest breeze or falling of a leaf 
 disturbs their revels ; they instantly fly off, each taking a separate 
 way; are more easily taken than the fox, a much slower animal 
 than they, and why ; always choose to run up a hill, and why; 
 have the sole of the foot furnished with hair, and seem the only 
 animal with hair on the inside of the mouth ; live seven or eight 
 vears, and come to perfection in one year ; females live longer ; 
 Mr. Bnffon makes a doubt of it ; seldom heard to cry, except when 
 seized or wounded ; their cry nearly like the squalling of a child ; 
 are easily tamed, but are incapable of attachment to any person ; 
 though never so young, regain their native freedom at the first op- 
 portunity; have a good ear, and been taught to beat the drum, 
 dance to measure, and go through the manual exercise ; make 
 themselves a form where the colour of the grass resembles that of 
 their skin, open to the south in winter, and to the north in summer ; 
 sore hunted, will start a fresh hare, and squat in its form ; some- 
 times will hide among a flock of sheep, and no vigilance can drive 
 them from it ; some enter holes like the rabbit, by hunters termed 
 going to vault ; as it tires, treads heavier, and its scent is stronger ; 
 young hares tread heavier than the old ; male makes doublings of 
 greater compass than the female ; divided by hunters into mountain 
 and measled hares ; mode of expression, the more you hunt, the 
 more hares you shall have, and why ; what animals persecute the 
 hare ; its enemies so various, that it seldom reaches the short term 
 limited to it by nature ; in countries near the north pole, they be- 
 come white, and are often in great troops of four or five hundred ; 
 their skins sold for less than seven shillings a hundred ; the fur 
 known to form a conciderable article in the hat manufacture ; found 
 also entirely black, in much less quantity than the former ; some have 
 been seen with horns, but rarely ; those in hot countries smaller than 
 UTS ; those in the Milanese the best in Europe ; scarce a country where 
 not found, from the torrid zone to the polar circle ; natives of Guinea 
 Xill numbers at a lime ; in what manner; the Jews, ancient Britons, 
 
 and Mahometans, all considered it as an unclean animal, and reli- 
 giously abstained from it ; Apicius shows the manner of dressing a 
 hare in true Roman taste ; hare and rabbit distinct kinds, refuse to 
 mix with each other ; an instance of it, Mr. Buffon having in vain 
 tried to make them engender with each other; laws made for the 
 preservation of them, 345 to 349. 
 
 Harfang. or great Hudson's Bay owl, the largest of the, noctur- 
 nal tribe, and as white as snow. 599. 
 
 Harlequin, a kind of a dog. 3] 2 ; an useless animal, somewhat be- 
 tween an Italian greyhound and a Dutch mastiff, 313. 
 
 Harmony of our planetary system. 2. 
 
 Harold. See Hawk, 482. 
 
 Harp, the story of Arion's gathering the dolphins about the 
 ship, 165. 
 
 Harpies, that ancient idea taken from the rousette, or the great 
 bat of Madagascar, 385. 
 
 Harrier, hound, and beagle, all of the same kind, 311 ; a dog of 
 the generous kind, 312. 
 
 Hart, name of the stag the sixth year, 262. 
 
 Hartshorn, and musk, the only medicines of reputation of several 
 procurable from quadrupeds, 250. 
 
 Harvey, his opinion about the formation of the incipient animal ; 
 altercations against his system, 123. 
 
 Hatching, nothing exceeds the patience of birds hatching, 455 ; 
 Mr. Addison's observations to this purpose, ib. ; the emu very pecu- 
 liar in the hatching of its young, 466 ; the crocodile's eggs hatched 
 in the sand, 715. 
 
 Hatjield, in Yorkshire, description of one of those spouts called 
 typhons, observed there in 1687, 115. 
 
 Hatannah, in the fortunate expedition which gave us that place, 
 the climate left not a fifth part of the army survivors of the victo- 
 ry, 94. 
 
 Hawfinch, a bird of the sparrow kind, 538. 
 
 Hawk-kind, destroys mice, 365 ; perceives a lark at a distance 
 which neither men nor dogs could spy, 450 ; distinctive marks from 
 other carnivorous birds, 473 ; in old paintings, the criterion of nobili- 
 ty ; no person of rank stirred without Tiis hawk on his hand ; 
 Harold, afterwards king of England, going on an important embas- 
 sy into Normandy, is drawn in an old bas-relief, embarking with a 
 hawk on his fist, and a dog under his arm ; in those days, it was suf- 
 ficient for noblemen's sons to wind the horn and carry the hawk 
 fair ; this diversion in such high esteem among the great all over 
 Europe, that Frederick, Emperor of Germany, wrote a treatise upon 
 hawking ; this amusement now much given over in this kingdom, 
 and why ; this sport attended with very great expense ; in the 
 reign of James I. Sir Thomas Monson gave a thousand pounds for 
 a cnst of hawks ; in the reign of Edward III. it was made felony to 
 steal a hawk ; to take its eggs was punished by imprisonment for a 
 year and a day, with a fine at the king's pleasure ; in the reign of 
 Elizabeth, the imprisonment reduced to three months, the offender 
 to lie in prison till he got security for his good behaviour during 
 seven years ; in earlier times the art of gunning was but little used, 
 and the hawk was then valuable for its affording diversion and pro- 
 curing delicacies for the table not otherwise to be obtained ; of such 
 spirit that he keeps all birds in awe and subjection to his prowess ; 
 distinctive marks of the tribe called the long-winged hawks ; their 
 names and description ; have attachment to their feeders, and docility 
 the baser race are strangers to ; names of hawks of the baser race ; 
 those of the generous breed remarkable for courage, swiftness, 
 and docility, in obeying the commands and the signs of their mas- 
 ter ; to train up the hawk so as to hunt for his master, and bring 
 him the game he shall kill, requires great skill and assiduity ; ac- 
 count of the manner of training a hawk ; falconers had a language 
 peculiar, in which they conversed and wrote, 482 to 486. 
 
 Hawk, (sparrow) pursues the thrush and the linnet,'4?2; said to 
 be the boldest and the best of all others for the chase, 486. 
 
 Hawk, (goss) and sparrow-hawk, unfit for training; taught to fly 
 at game, but little obtained from them, 486. 
 
 Hawkins (Sir Robert.) See Azores, 70. 
 
 Hr.ad of man externally and internally different from that of all 
 other animals, the monkey-kind excepted, 146 ; whence originally 
 the flat-heads of the American Indians, 185; of quadrupeds different 
 from other, but adapted to their several ways of living, and how, 
 206 ; in all birds, except nocturnal, the head smaller and less propor- 
 tioned to the body than in quadrupeds, 450 ; of the great Greenland 
 whale makes a third of its bulk, 617. 
 
 Hearing, extreme delicacy of this sense in birds, 451 ; that sense 
 in whales in great perfection, 617. 
 
 Hrarse, name of the female of the stag, the second year, 262. 
 
 Heart, a broken heart, in common language, in reality a disorder 
 caused by hunger, 154. 
 
HER 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 HIP 
 
 Heat, Bocrhaave considered it 30 prejudicial to health, that he !j bred familiarly in our marshes ; not now, and why, 457 ; anatomi- 
 never went near a fire, 05 ; of the blood in man and other animals ]j cal distinction in which herons differ from other birds ; of this tribe 
 
 Brisson has enumerated forty -seven sorts ; excessively dertructive 
 and voracious ; ever have lean and carrion bodies ; description of 
 
 about thirty degrees above congelation ; in animals which sleep the 
 winter, not above ten, 357. 
 
 Hec/a, the bellowings of that volcano, believed by the inhabitants 
 of Iceland to be the cries of the damned, 26. 
 
 Hedge-hog, with an appearance the most formidable, the most 
 harmless of animals ; destitute of either cunning or switlness; has 
 but one expedient for safety, and from this alone it finds protec- 
 tion ; the cat, the weasel, the ferret, and the martin, decline com- 
 bat with it ; even the dog attacks it ineffectually ; its description ; 
 usual appearance on the approach of danger ; to disgust its enemy 
 from pursuit, sheds its urine, the smell of which is sufficient to 
 send him off; sleeps by day, and ventures out by night ; places 
 where found ; its food ; does not suck cattle ; arc not hurtful in gar 
 dens or orchards ; the spines so disposed, that no fruit will stick upon 
 them : appears serviceable in ridding the fields of insects and worms ; 
 Mr. Buffon accuses it of tricks, of which, from its form and habits, 
 one would not be led to suspect it ; he kept males and females to- 
 gether, but they never coupled ; time of their coupling ; sleep dur- 
 ing winter, bat do not lay up provisions for that fjason ; at no time 
 eat much, and remain long without food ; blood cold, and their flesh 
 not good for food ; their skins converted to no use, except to muz- 
 zle calves from sucking, 373, 374 ; destroyed and devoured by the 
 fox : in what manner, 323. 
 
 Hedge-hog of the sea, a cartilaginous fish of the sea-orb kind, 644. 
 
 Hedge-spa rrow, a slender billed bird, 537. 
 
 Iliight, Maximin, the Emperor, above nine feet in stature, 151. 
 
 Hcliogulinltis. noted for having the brains of six hundred ostriches 
 dressed in one dish, 405. 
 
 Hellebore, a quantity of the black sort pounded carelessly purged 
 several persons who were present, and the operator strongly, 96. 
 
 Htlwo's (-S7.) fire, or the mariner's light, 111. 
 
 lltln>ont, his experiment to show all things made of water, 49. 
 
 Hemisphere, half illuminated by northern lights, 110. 
 
 Htmiork, eat by the horse without injury, 214. 
 
 Hrifvaf. name hunters give the roebuck the third year, 268. 
 
 Hen, in the Museum at Brussels, a creature covered with feathers 
 and hair, said to be bred between a rabbit and a hen, 349. 
 
 Hen of the common sort, moderately fed, lays above an hundred 
 esirs from spring to autumn, 450 ; after three years become effete 
 aim barren; clutches one brood of chickens in a season ; instances 
 of two, very rare ; number of eggs of a domestic hen in the year 
 above two hundred, being well fed, supplied with water, and at 
 liberty ; trodden by the cock or not, she continues to lay ; eggs of 
 this kind never by hatching produce living animals; her nest made 
 without care; chicking season artificially protracted, and entirely 
 removed, in wliat manner; left to herself, would seldom lay above 
 twenty eggs without attempt ing to hatch them; as she lays, her 
 eggs being removed, she continues to increase the number ; in the 
 wild state, seldom lays above fifteen eggs ; particularities of incu- 
 bation ; affection and pride after producing chickens ; every in- 
 vading animal she boldly attacks, the horse, the hog, or the mastiff; 
 inarching before her little troop, by a variety of notes calls her 
 train to their food, or warns thorn of danger ; instance of the brood 
 running for security into a hedge, while the hen stood boldly forth, 
 and faced a fox that came for plunder ; twelve chickens are the 
 greatest number that a hen can rear and clutch at a time; artificial 
 method of hatching chickens in stoves practised at Grand Cairo, or 
 in a laboratory with gratuated heat, effected with woollen hens, by 
 Mr. Reaumur ; by these contrivances, from a hen naturally produc- 
 ing twelve chickens in the year, are obtained artificially above two 
 hundred. 495, 406; common hen supplies the place of the hen-phea- 
 sant, when refusing to hatch her eggs, and performs the task with 
 perseverance and success, but the young ones very difficult to be 
 reared, 502. 
 
 Hen (Guinea) or Barbary hen, described, 503. 
 Hen (water) described, residence and food ; nest and habits, 
 572, 573. 
 
 Henry IV. King of Denmark, desirous of trying the skill of a 
 musican, who boasted he could excite men to madness, submitted 
 to the operation, became mad. and killed four of his attendants, 106. 
 Hereuianeum overwhelmed in that eruption of Vesuvius in which 
 Pliny the naturalist was suffocated ; its ruins lately discovered at 
 sixty feet below the surface, and forty below the bottom of the 
 sea, 27. 
 
 Hermaphrodites, such are all animals of the snail kind, 685 ; the 
 bivalve tribe are so too ; they require no assistance from each other 
 towards impregnation, 6S7. 
 
 Hermetical-sraling, a glass vessel, the meaning of it, 40. 
 Heron, a ruminating bird, 232 ; the great heron, in former times, 
 
 I the common heron ; indolent and cowardly, and flies at the ap- 
 proach of the sparrow-hawk ; commits the greatest devastations in 
 fresh waters ; destroys more in a week thiui the otter in three 
 months ; a fish over so large he will strike at. and wound, though 
 unable to carry it away ; one heron, says Willoughby, will destroy 
 fifteen thousand carp in half a year ; usual attitude, waiting for 
 | prey ; food in cold and stormy seasons; manner of fishing ; vVil- 
 i loughby's receipt for taking thum ; their nests; never in flocks 
 when they iish, but making nests, they love each other's society ; 
 ilcsh of the young esteemed in France ; formerly much esteemed 
 i in England ; at present nothing domestic but a cat will (ouch it ; 
 method used to obtain them ; the young once excluded, the old in- 
 cessantly provide them with an amazing quantity offish ; instance 
 of it; by Mr. Kcvsli r's account, this bin! may exceed sixty years ; 
 recent instance of one taken in Holland, with a silver plate to one 
 leg, and an inscription, that it had been struck by the elector of 
 Cologne's hawks thirty-five years before; they contract a consump- 
 tive disposition, 559 to 501. 
 
 Ilti'oit-/n!w/;in(?, a favourite diversion among our ancestors ; had 
 laws enactetl for the preservation of the species ; he who destroyed 
 their eg<r,s was liable to a penalty of twenty shillings for each 
 offence, 559. 
 
 Her ram confirms the existence of giants, If'l. 
 Herring, its description, 051) ; of migrating fish, this and the 
 pilchard take the most adventurous voyages; places where the 
 herrings are in the greatest abundance ; numerous enemies met in 
 their migrations ; in Chesapeak bay, the shoals so great as to cover 
 the shores, and become a nuisance ; that body upon our coast be- 
 gins to appear off the Shetland isles in April ; forerunners, the 
 grand shoal descending in June, and announced by the gannet, gull, 
 &c. ; the main body divided into distinct columns of five or six miles 
 in length, and three or four broad ; in bright weather reflect a vari- 
 ety of splendid colours ; fishermen take two thousand barrels at a 
 single draught; places of Europe where herrings are punctual in 
 their visitations ; doubts in every part of their migration ; first 
 great bank for herrings was along the Norway shore ; before 1584, 
 the number of ships irom various parts of Europe resorting thither, 
 exceeded some thousands ; quantity of herrings then assembled 
 there was such, that a spear stuck in the water, as Olaus Magnus 
 asserts, would stand on end ; soon after that period, they deserted 
 the Norway shores, and took up along the German coasts ; no 
 cause assigned for this seemingly capricious desertion ; their 
 greatest colonies now in the British channel, and upon the Irish 
 shores ; a herring suffered to multiply unmolested, and undimi 
 nished for twenty years, would show a progeny greater in bulk than 
 ten such globes as that we live upon, 653. to 65b. 
 
 Hertfordshire, a dreadful storm which happened in it, in 1697, 
 described, 109. 
 
 He nitrons, with Pappus, the most convenient figures in build- 
 ing; cells of bees are perfect hexagons, S02. 
 
 Hide of the elk, often known to turn a musket ball, 271. 
 Heira island, in the Mediterranean, risen and formed by subter- 
 raneous explosions, 37. 
 
 Heiro. See Arekimtdet, 55. 
 
 Hinil, or female of the stag, has no horns; time of gestation, and 
 usual season of bringing forth ; hides her young in obscure thickets ; 
 obliged to use all arts to conceal them from the stag, the most dan- 
 gerous of her pursuers : how she defends her young, 260, 261 ; the 
 female stag, still so called the third year, 202 ; manner of knowing 
 the track of a hind, 262 ; inhabitants of Canada have no other milk 
 but that of the hind ; and no other cheese but that made of it, 265 ; 
 the hunter's name for the roe-buck, the first year, 268. 
 
 Hippocampus, the sea-horse, its description, 644. 
 
 Hippocrates, his opinion about the formation of the incipient 
 animal, 123. 
 
 Hippopotamus not afraid singly to oppose the lion, 295; its 
 dimensions ; places where it resides ; its lood ; swims with much 
 force, and remains at the bottom for thirty or forty minutes ; it 
 commits dreadful havock among the plantations ; method the Afri- 
 cans use to frighten it back to its element ; inoffensive in arts and 
 disposition ; never attacks mariners in their boats, unless inadver- 
 tently struck against, or otherwise disturbed, then it would send 
 them at once to the bottom ; instances of its great strength ; never 
 goes beyond the mouth of fresh-water rivers; attacked on shore, 
 and incapable of vengeance upon a flying enemy, returns to the 
 river, and plunges in head foremost ; the princes of Africa amuse 
 themselves with combats on their lakes, between this ftiid othet 
 6 I* 
 
HOIl 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 HOR 
 
 formidable animals ; the negroes, apprized of 'its force, do not en- 
 gage it ; continues uncontrolled master of the river, all other fly 
 its approach, or become an easy prey ; moves slowly upon land ; 
 seldom goes from the river side, unless pressed by necessities of 
 hunger, or of bringing forth its young ; lives upon fish and vegeta- 
 bles ; natives of Africa say it often devours children, and other 
 creatures surprised upon land ; the young are excellent eating ; 
 the female seldom produces above one at a time ; hearing the 
 slightest noise, she dashes into the stream, and the young one fol- 
 lows her with equal alacrity; Dr. Pococke has seen tiieir flesh 
 sold in shambles like beef; their breast thought as delicate eating 
 as veal ; this creature, once numerous at the mouth of the Nile, 
 now wholly unknown in Lower Egypt, and no where found but 
 above the cataracts, 427 to 42!>. 
 
 Historian, (natural) what his proper business, 2 ; going too 
 much into speculation certainly wrong, and why, ti ; method his 
 principal help, 199; faults of systematic writers, 200. 
 
 History, (natural) of all other sciences has the least danger of 
 obscurity, and why, 202 ; best set forth, as Mr. Locke has observed, 
 by drawings of animals, taken from life, 204 ; rule in natural his- 
 tory, that neither horns, colour, fineness or length of hair, or posi- 
 tion of ears, make actual distinctions in the kinds, 2 17 ; accounts 
 of fishes little entertaining ; philosophers not studying their na- 
 ture, but employed in increasing their catalogue, 605 ; Dampier 
 has added more to it than half the philosophers before him, C74 ; 
 one of the strangest discoveries in all natural history, 826. 
 
 Hobby, bird of the generous breed of hawks, for smaller game, 
 daring larks, and stooping at quails. 4-\i. 
 
 Hugs, animals of this Kind resemble those of the horse as well 
 as the cow kind, and in what ; this kind partakes of the rapacious 
 and the peaceful kinds ; offends no animal of the forest ; remark- 
 able that none of this kind ever shed their teeth ; any animal 
 dying in the forest, or so wounded as to make no resistance, is the 
 jirey of the hog, who refuses no animal food, however putrid ; in a 
 state of wildness, most delicate in the choice of its vegetables, re- 
 jects a greater number than any other ; they eat but seventy-two 
 plants, and reject a hundred and seventy ; indelicacy of this animal 
 more in our apprehensions than in its nature, and why ; in orchards 
 of peach-trees in North America, rejects the fruit that has lain a 
 few hours on the ground, and watch hours for a fresh wind-fall ; 
 have had mice burrowing in their backs while fattening in the sty, 
 without seeming to perceive it ; scent the hounds at a distance ; 
 by nature stupid, inactive, and drowsy ; its whole life a round of 
 sleep and gluttony ; has passions more active only when incited by 
 venery, or when the wind blows with vehemence ; foresees the 
 approach of bad weather ; much agitated on hearing any of its 
 kind in distress ; have often gathered round a dog that teazed 
 them, and killed him upon the spot ; their various diseases ; ge- 
 nerally live, when permitted, to eighteen or twenty years ; the fe- 
 males produce to the age of fifteen ; produce from ten to twenty at 
 a litter, and that twice a year; in the wild state less prolific, 279 
 to 2t"i. ' 
 
 Hug (Guinea) and that about Upsal, described, 282. 
 
 Hug (water.) See Capibara, 284. 
 
 Hug of Borneo. See Babyrouessa, 285. 
 
 fluff of the isthmus of Darien, described by Wafer, 286. 
 
 Holiauho, a river of China, in Asia ; its course, 62 ; receives 
 thirty-five lesser rivers, 64. 
 
 Holland, a conquest from the sea, and rescued from its bosom ; 
 the surface of its earth below the level of tile bottom of the sea ; 
 upon approaching the coast, it is looked down upon from the sea, 
 as into a valley; is every day rising higher, and by what means ; 
 those parts which formerly admitted large men of war, are now too 
 shallow to receive ships of moderate burden, 81. 
 
 Honey, the polecat and the martin feed upon honey, 332 ; from 
 what part of the flower it is extracted, 803 ; two kinds of it ; 
 which to be preferred, 807 ; that gathered by the humble-bee, 808 ; 
 gathered by the black bees in the tropical climates, neither so un- 
 palatable nor so surfeiting as ours ; produced by the bees at Gua- 
 duloupe, 808. See Bres, 808, 809. 
 
 Honeycomb, name of the second stomach of ruminating animals,G79. 
 
 Huuf of the Persian mares, ao hard that shoeing is unnecessary, 
 6GG. 
 
 Hooper, name of the wild swan, on account of the harshness of 
 its voice, 594. 
 
 Horizon, seems wrapt in a iKtddy cloud, upon the approach of 
 winter, under the line, 1 10. 
 
 Horn, to wind it, and to carry the hawjk fair, formerly sufficient 
 accomplishments for noblemen's sons, 482. 
 
 Horns, in what manner those of animals are produced, 147 ; 
 JJTOW differently in deer from those of sheep or OOWB ; doers' boms 
 
 | furrowed along the sides, and why ; in every respect resembling a 
 vegetable substance, grafted upon the head of the stag ; beauty 
 and size of those of a stag, mark their strength and their vigour ; 
 the time of shedding them ; severe winters retard the shedding the 
 horns in stags ; generally increase in thickness nnd height from the 
 
 jj second year to the eighth ; partake of the nature of the soil; their 
 horns shed, they seek the plainer part of the country, remote from 
 those animals they are then unable to oppose, and walk with their 
 heads stooping down, to prevent striking against the brancli(.'s of a 
 tree, 257, 258 ; of a stag, called his head ; their names according 
 to the different ages of the stag. Slid ; the author has seen the 
 horns of the elk ten feet nine inches from one tip to the other. 
 y70 ; applied to the same purposes as hartshorn, 271 ; rein-deer 
 converted into glue, 277 ; of the rhinoceros, sometimes from three 
 to three feet and a half long, composed of the most solid sub- 
 stance, and pointed to inilict the most fatal wounds, 426' ; of 
 owls nothing more than two or three feathers that stand up on each 
 side of the head, over the ea.r, 489. 
 
 Horses, characteristic marks given by Linmcus ; eats hemlock 
 without injury, 214 ; near as the ape approaches man in external 
 conformation, so the horse is the most remote ; wild horses herd 
 together, and feed in droves of five or six hundred; one among 
 their number always stands as sentinel, and after having alarmed 
 his fellows to flight, remains the hindermost, 215 ; there are but 
 three animals of the horse kind, the horse, ass, and zebra, 227; 
 a horse will not carry upon its back a weight of more than two or 
 three hundred pounds. 150 ; to estimate the strength of a horse, ie 
 not to try what he can carry, but what he can draw ; he draws a 
 load ten men cannot move ; and in some cases a draught horse draws 
 better being somewhat loaded, ib. ; allured by music, 165 ; not 
 readily attacked by the lion ; the combats between them in Italy, 
 207 ; one fond of oysters, 209 ; from what country the horse 
 came originally, uncertain ; according to the ancients, wild horses 
 once in Europe ; the colder climates do not agree with them ; 
 how wild horses are caught ; set at liberty they never become 
 wild again ; the Buccaneers agreeably surprised to see their faith- 
 ful horses present themselves awain with their us/ il assiduity, and 
 receive the rein ; this animal in a state of nature in the old, not 
 the new world, 215 ; wild horses finding a tame horse to associate 
 with them, gather round him, and oblige him to seek safety by 
 flight ; countries where wild horses are found ; the natives of An. 
 gola, or Cafraria, catch a horse only to eat him. Jtrabinn wild 
 liorscs, the most beautiful breed, the most generous, swift, and 
 persevering ; the negroes show terror and surprise when first they 
 see a horse, ib. ; no Arabian, however poor, but has his horse ; 
 tame Arabian horses, some valued at a thousand ducats ; different 
 classes among the Arabians ; they know the race of a horse by his 
 appearance ; Arabians preserve the pedigree of their horses with 
 care, for several ages, 217 ; countries into which the race of their 
 horses has spread itself, ib. ; they take the wild horses with traps ; 
 the young horse considered by them as a great delicacy ; they 
 feast upon him while any part is remaining ; the usual manner of 
 trying the swiftness of Arabian horses, by hunting the ostrich ; 
 and a horse of the first speed is able to out-run it, 216 ; treat their 
 horses gently ; hold a discourse with them ; permits them to sleep 
 indiscriminately with his family ; written attestations given to per- 
 sons who buy Arabian horses ; they stand stock still in the midst 
 of their career, the rider happening to fall ; keep them saddled at 
 their tents from morning to night, to prevent surprise ; when the 
 Arabians begin to break their horses ; how the Arabians dress and 
 feed their horses, 217 ; first began the management of horses in 
 the time of sheque Ishmael ; the rapidity of the flight of Arabian 
 horses is such, that the dogs give up the pursuit, 2Hi ; upon com- 
 putation, the speed of the English horse is one-fourth greater 
 carrying a rider, than that of the swiftest barb without one ; in 
 Persia, according to Marcus Paulus, there are studs of ten thou- 
 sand white mares altogether, very fleet, and with the hoof so hard 
 that shoeing is unnecessary ; Numidian race much degenerated ; 
 the Tingitanians and Egyptians have the fame of rearing the finest 
 horses for size and beauty, 218 ; horses of Barbary ; an Italian pe- 
 culiar sport, in which horses of this breed run against each other, 
 ib. ; Spanish genctte described, ib. ; those of Andalusia pass for 
 the best, and preferred as war horses to every other country, 
 Italian horses have a particular aptitude to prance, ib. ; the horses 
 of India, weak and washy ; fed with peas, sugar, and butter; one 
 brought to England not much larger than a common mastiff; cli- 
 mates excessively hot seem unfavourable to horses, remarkable 
 sports on horseback ; the horses of the Gold Coast and Guinea ex- 
 tremely little, but very manageable ; of China, weak, little, ill- 
 shaped, and cowardly ; those of Corea timorous, as not to be ser- 
 viceable in war, 220 ; Tartar horses very serviceable in war ; they 
 
HUG 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 HY^E 
 
 were properly the conquerors of China ; march two or three days 
 without stopping ; continue five or six, without eating more than a 
 handful of grass at every eight hours ; and remain without drink- 
 ing four and twenty hours ; lose all their strength when brought 
 into China or the indies : thrive pretty well in Persia and Turkey ; 
 the Tartars towards the north have a breed of little horses which 
 they set such a value upon that it is forbidden to sell them to 
 strangers ; ancient opinions on the nature and qualities of the horses 
 of Thessaly, Achaia, Ethiopia, Arabia, Africa, Italy, and particu- 
 larly of Apulia ; of Sicily, Cappadocia, Syria, Armenia, Media, 
 Persia ; of Sardinia, and Corsica , of Spain, W:\llachia, Transylvania ; 
 of Denmark, Scandinavia, Flanders ; of the Gaulish hurses ; of tho 
 German, Swiss, Hungarian, and lastly, of the English horses, 221 ; 
 Danish horses of such excellent size and strong make, that they are 
 preferred to all others for draught; some streaked like the tiger, 
 or mottled like the leopard ; Gcriuaimud Ilutigaritiu horses; Dutch 
 horses are good for draught, the best come from the province of 
 Friezland ; the Fiunders horses, 219 ; few Fr< nrlt horses good ; in 
 general are heavy shouldered ; the best of that country cuaie from 
 Limosin, and Normandy furnishes the next ; Jlnwnrun tame horses 
 admirable ; method of hunting with them, ib. ; islands of the Archi- 
 pelago have very good horses ; those of Crete were in great re- 
 putation among the ancients, at present seldom used in tiie coun- 
 try itself, because of the unevemiess of the ground ; the original 
 horses of Morocco, smaller than the Arabian breed ; in Turkey 
 there are horses of all races; Persian horses, in general, the most 
 beautiful and most valuable of all the East, ib. ; some greatly esteem- 
 ed in the Ukraine, in Wallachia, Poland, Sweden, 220; English 
 horses excel the Arabians in size and swiftness; are more durable 
 ihan the barb, and more hardy than the Peisian ; one instance of 
 their great rapidity, in the admirable Childers, frequently known to 
 move eighty-two feet and a half in a second, 221 , fau'.t of our man- 
 ner of breaking horses ; the French-managed horse never falls be- 
 fore, but more usually on one side ; the English are lor speed and 
 despatch, the French and other nations are more for parade and 
 spirit ; English hunters considered the noblest and most useful 
 horses in the world, 222 : Iti-ger de Delegme, the hrst recorded to 
 have attempted mending our native breed ; number of horses in 
 London in the reign of King Stephen, said to have amounted to 
 t.ventv thousand ; in the times of Queen Elizabeth, the kingdom 
 could not supply two thousand horses to fori:: the cavalry ; Powis- 
 iand. in \\aies, for many ages famous for a swifl and generous race 
 of horses, and why, 222 ; perfections which a horse ought to have, 
 according to Carnerarius, ib. ; a ruminating animal, 252 ; in a course 
 of years impoverish tho ground, 233; the horse and the ass differ 
 not so much in form as the cow and the bison, yet the former are dis- 
 tinct animals, and the latter animals of the same kind, 235 ; eats two 
 hundred and sixtv-two plants, and rejects two hundred and twelve, 
 280 ; famished horses more hairy than those fed plentifully, 
 331 ; for hunting lions, must be of that sort called charossi ; all 
 others fly at the sijrlit of the lion, 296; are killed by wild asses, 
 225 ; destroyed by the American bat called vampyre, in South 
 America, 385. 
 
 Hume (*>'/.) described, C44. 
 
 Hortcnsius, the orator, the first who had peacocks served up at 
 an entertainment in Rome, 4U7. 
 
 llafjiitals erected in India for the maintenance of all kinds of 
 vermin, 181 ; for monkeys, erected by the Bramins, 410. 
 
 llutlrnliitf outstrip lions in the chase, as travellers report, 150 ; 
 make much and very extraordinary use of the bison, 237. 
 
 Hiiuntl, hurrir.r, and Italic,, all of the same kind; proj matin 
 limind. transported to the North, becomes a great Danish dog, and 
 this sent into the South, becomes a greyhound of different sizes ; 
 the same transported into Ireland, the Ukraine, Tartary, Epirus, 
 and Albania, becomes the great wolf dog known by the namo of the 
 Irish teolf-dog ; the ulooil-huund, a dog of the generous kind; and 
 likewise the jftize-hoiind, and the gre\jlivuntt ; ail used for hunting ; 
 the blood-hound a dog of groat use and in high esteem among our 
 ancestors ; formerly employed in hunting thieves and robbers, 
 whom they traced by their footsteps; the gaze-hound hunted, like 
 our greyhound, by the eye, not by the scent; the greyhound 
 formerly held in such estimation that it was the peculiar 
 companion of a gentleman ; by some game-laws, persons under a 
 certain rank in life are forbid from keeping this animal, 311, 312. 
 Greyhound fox, the largest, tallest, and boldest of the kind, 325. 
 
 Howlet, a kind of owl without horns, 489. 
 
 Hudson's Bay, above twelve thousand martins' skins annually 
 imported from thence into England, 336. 
 
 Huers, name given to the men employed to give signals where to 
 wxtend the nets in the pilchard-fishery, 655. 
 
 Hughes. See Polypus, 837. 
 
 Hull had the honour of first attempting that profitable branch of 
 trade, the whale-fishery, 620. 
 
 lluinl/ir, a new island formed at the mouth of this river ; it is 
 about nine miles in circumference, and worth to the proprietor 
 about eight hundred pounds a year, 30. 
 
 Humming-bird is the smallest of birds, and seems nearly allied 
 to the insect, 251) ; belongs to the sparrow-kind, 5:>? ; found in great 
 numbers, during the summer season, in America ; the smallest of 
 them about the size of a hazel-nut; its description; the larger 
 humming-bird is near half as big as the common wren ; its descrip- 
 tion ; are seen fluttering about the nW ITS. without ever lighting 
 upon them ; their wings in such rapid motion, it is impossible to 
 discern their colours, except by their glittering : 1/ut only 'extract- 
 ing the honey as with a kiss ; their nests and the number of e 
 tiicir time of incubation; instance of their docility; countries 
 ! where found; in the Leeward Islands, they continue in a torpid 
 state during the severity of winter ; Lahat asserts, thit besides tho 
 humming noise produced by the wings, they have a pleasing melan- 
 choly melody in their voices, small and proportioned to their or- 
 gans ; the Indians make use of this pretty bird's plumage ; in what 
 manner the children take them; when taken, they are instantly 
 killed, and hung up in the chimney to dry ; some dry them in. 
 stoves ; at present this bird is taken rather for selling as a curiosity 
 to Europeans than an ornament for themselves, 54S to 5f>0. 
 
 Jliini/i. of the bison of different sizes, weighing from forty to fifty 
 pound . sometimes less ; cuts and tastes like a dressed udder; in a 
 few generations it wears away, 237, 238. 
 
 fliinvir, every .inimal endures the wants of sleep and hunger 
 v. itii less injury to health than man ; hunger kills man sooner than 
 watchfulness ; more dreadful in its approaches than continuance ; so 
 terrible to man, that rather than endure its tortures he exchanges 
 them for immediate destruction ; dreadful effects of hunger related 
 to the author by the captain of a ship, who was one of six that eu- 
 dured it in its extremities ; different opinions concerning the cause 
 of hunger; few instances of men dying, except at sea, of absolute 
 hunger ; those men whose disorder is caused by hunger ; the num- 
 ber of such as die in London of hunger supposed not less than 
 two thousand in a year ; method of palliating hunger among the 
 American Indians, 153, 154 ; instances of amazing patience in 
 hunger, 179. 
 
 Hunters, the English considered tiie noblest and most useful 
 horses in the world, 227 ; terms used by hunters in pursuing the 
 stag; names invented by them for the stag, 262; for the fallow- 
 deer, 266. 
 
 Hunting, the natural rights of hunting nirde royal, and v, hen, 
 2C1 ; the stag and the buck performed in the same manner in Eng- 
 land, and how, 262 ; ancient manner of hunting the stag. 204 ; the 
 manner in Sicily, and in China, ib. ; the wolf. 321 ; wolves used in 
 hunting, 322; hunting of the fox, 323; hunting tiie sable chiefly 
 the lot of the exiles in Siberia, 336; of the ouran-outang, or wild 
 man in Borneo, a favourite amusement of the king. 402 ; of the 
 elephant at the Cape of Good Hope, 423 ; the method used to lake 
 it alive, 421 ; manner of hunting, the ostrich by the Arabians, and 
 by the Struthophagi, 465 ; manner of hunting the turkey, 499. 
 
 Hurco (.dnjiilius,) charged by Pliny with being the first who fut- 
 ted peacocks for the feasts of the luxurious, 4!>7. 
 
 Hurricane, the cloud preceding a hurricane, called by sailors 
 bull's eye, described ; houses made of timber, bend to the blast of 
 the hurricane like osiers, and recover their rectitude ; hurricanes 
 offensive to the sense of smelling ; maggots brought with them, 
 105 ; common in all tropical climates ; on the coasts of Guinea fre- 
 quently three or four in a day ; their seasons upon those coasts, at 
 Loango and the opposite coast of Africa ; the hurricane called tor- 
 nado ; its dreadful effects, 106. 
 
 Has, in Greek signifies a sow, and kuoina derived from it, 327. 
 
 Huso, the isingluss fish, caught in great quantities in the Danube, 
 from October to January; furnishes the commodity called isinglass; 
 method of making it; often above four hundred pounds wtighk; its 
 flesh suited is better tasted, and turns red like salmon, 6-12. 
 
 Hija'iio, no words give an idea adequate to thia animal's 
 figure, deformity, and fierceness ; more savage and unt-iiae- 
 able than any quadruped ; for ever in a state of rage or rapacity ; 
 its description ; for its size, the most terrible of all quadrupeds : de- 
 fends itself against the lion, is a match for the panther, and attacks 
 the ounce, which it seldom fails to conquer ; an obscene and soli- 
 tary animal ; its first howl sometimes mistaken for the voice of a 
 man mourning ; its latter like the violent efforts of retching ; 
 whence it first took its name ; native of the torrid zone ;. resides m 
 the caverns of mountains, the clefts of rocks, or dens it has formed 
 under earth ; taken ever so young, it never can be tamed ; some- 
 times attacks man, and carries off cattle : its eyes shine by night, 
 
ICII 
 
 LNDEX. 
 
 LNU 
 
 and it is asserted that it sees better by night than by day ; scrapes 
 up graves, and devours dead bodies, how putrid soever ; absurdities 
 of the ancients about this animal, 3'27, S'i*. 
 
 I &. J. 
 
 Jabiru and jahiru-guacu, birds of the crane kind, natives ofBrasil; 
 their descriptions, f>;'.-*. 
 
 Jackals, hunt in a pack, and encourage eacli other by mutual 
 * /iej ; what has ffivt-n rise to the report of its bein<j the lion's pro- 
 vider, 208 ; travellers have mistaken the jackal for the fox ; one of 
 the commonest wild animals in tin: East, yet scarce any less known 
 in Europe, or loss distinctly described by naturalists; its descrip- 
 tion ; in most parts of Africa takes up tile place of the wolf, which 
 in that country is not so common ; its cry a lamentation resembling 
 that of human distress ; is more noisy in its pursuit than a dog. 
 more voracious than the wolf; never goes alone, but always in a 
 pack of forty or fifty together ; seems little afraid of man ; take up 
 with the smallest animals, and yet, when united, have courage to 
 face the largest ; pursues its game to the doors without apprehen- 
 sion ; enters insolently into sheep-folds, yards, and stables, and rind- 
 ing nothing else, devours leather harness, boots, and shoes ; scratches 
 up new-made graves, and devours the corpse, how putrid soever ; 
 the corpse how dug up ; follows armies, and keeps in the rear of 
 caravans ; the most putrid substances it greedily devours ; hides in 
 holes by day, and appears abroad at night-fall ; hunts by the scent ; 
 irreeoncileable antipathy between it and the dog ; no wonder it be 
 voracious, and why ; is as stupid as impudent ; instances of it ; 
 Indian peasants often chase it as we do foxes, 272, 273. 
 
 Jackdaw, its description ; builds in steeples, old castles, and high 
 rocks, 514 ; rings found in the nest of a tame jackdaw, 512. 
 
 Jacobines, a kind of pigeons, 5:12. 
 
 Jaculus, the swiftest serpent, its manner of progression by coil- 
 ing, 729. 
 
 Jaguar, or the panther of America, 30:). 
 
 James, the hermit, said to have lived a hundred and four 
 years, 155. 
 
 Japanese, description of that people, 180. 
 
 Jaw, the upper, thought by many quite immoveable ; that it 
 moves in man, an easy experiment will evince ; has its proper 
 muscles behind the head for thus raising and depressing it; the un- 
 der jaw in the embryo much advanced before the upper, and in the 
 adult hangs more backward ; in a Chinese face it falls still more 
 backward than with us, the difference is thought half an inch, the 
 mouth being shut naturally ; M'Laurin, a professor at Edinburgh, 
 was subject to have his j.iw dislocated ; the under jaw has often 
 an involuntary quivering motion ; and often a state of languor pro- 
 duces another ; that of yawning, a very sympathetic kind of lan- 
 guid motion ; ridiculous instance of this sympathetic affection com- 
 monly practised upon the same famous M'Laurin. 143, 144. 
 
 Jay, one of the most beautiful of the British birds ; its descrip- 
 tion; feeds upon fruits, kills small birds, and is extremely docile, 
 517^ 'ays its eggs in the hole deserted by the woodpecker, 520. 
 
 Ibex, a native of the Alps, the Pyrennees, and the mountains of 
 Greece ; its description, 243. 
 
 Ibis, the Egyptians paid divine honours to this bird : different 
 opinions concerning the ancient and modern ibis ; Mailer's obser- 
 vation to this purpose ; the true ibis thought a bird of the vulture 
 kind, called by some the capon of Pharaoh ; follows the caravans 
 that go to Mecca, to feed upon the offal of the animals that are 
 killed on the journey ; held sacred by the Egyptians, 550, 557. 
 
 Ice, very elastic, 53; floats of it diffused into plains of above two 
 hundred leagues in length, and mountains of it rising amidst them; 
 flat ice and mountain ice, 71 ; their formation ; mountains of it 
 presenting the resemblance of trees in blossom, a glory, &c. 72. 
 
 Ichneumon, by some injudiciously denominated the cat of Ph-iraoh, 
 one ef the boldest and most useful animals of the weasel kind ; used 
 iii Egypt for the aamc purposes as cats in Europe, but is more ser- 
 viceable, being more expert in catching mice ; description; dis- 
 covers and destroys the eggs of the crocodile ; serpents its most 
 natural food ; grows fast and dies soon ; easily strangles a cat 
 stronger and larger than itself; countries where found; attacks 
 every living thing it is able to overcome, and fears not the force of 
 the dog, nor the claws of the vulture ; takes the water like an 
 otter, and will continue under much longer ; not able to support 
 the rigour of our winters ; one come from the island of Ceylon, 
 climbed up the walls and the trees with very great ease ; this ani- 
 mal one of those formerly worshipped by the Egyptians, 337, 338. 
 
 Ichneumon fly, its weapon of defence ; flies of this tribe owe their 
 birth to the destruction of some other insect, wiUun whose body 
 
 they have lioen deposited, and upon whose vitals they have preyed, 
 till they came to maturity ; of all others the most formidable to in- 
 sects of various kinds ; it makes the body of the caterpillar the 
 place for depositing its eggs ; the tribe is not the caterpillar's 
 offspring, as was supposed, but its murderers; description ; whence 
 its name ; fears not the wasp, and plunders its habitations'; vari- 
 ous appetites of the several kinds of this fly ; the millions of insects 
 this fly kills in a summer inconceivable, 813, 814. 
 
 Ir/iin union, a root the Indians believe an antidote for the bite of 
 the asp or the viper, 337. 
 
 li/rn, deplorable infirmities of the workmen in the quicksilver 
 mines near it, 23. 
 
 Jean-It- Slonc. a kind of eagle ; its distinctive marks, 476. 
 
 Jenisca., in Tartary, a river, o'2 ; receives above sixty lesser 
 rivers, 04. 
 
 Ji. 11/,'in.s, a peasant, lived to a hundred and sixty-five years, with- 
 out much regularity, 175. 
 
 Jerboa, has lour feet, uses only the hinder in running or resting ; 
 the swiftest creature in the world ; description ; countries where 
 found ; lives upon vegetables, and burrows like rabbits, 444. 445. 
 
 Jcstrr, in England, as late as the times of King James 1. the 
 court was furnished with a jester, 1 
 
 Jeicels, the richest jewels found in an Ethiop's ear, a proverb, 14C. 
 
 jgnitjahaU) or wandering fire, 111. 
 
 Iguana, description of this animal ; its flesh the greatest delicacy 
 of Africa and America ; its food ; in what manner it is taken, 
 719, 720. 
 
 Jiboya, the great, of Java and Brazil, the dimensions of this ser- 
 pent ; method of killing its prey, 741. 
 
 Imagination, by day as well as by night, always employed, 158; 
 very remarkable instances of its power in women. 1-7. 
 
 Impaling, in some courts of the more barbarous princes of India, 
 they employ the elephant to impale the criminals on its enormous 
 tusks, 424. 
 
 I in/in ti nation, the hare, though already impregnated, admits the 
 male, and receives a second impregnation, 240 ; in what manner 
 the sea and garden-snails impregnate each other respectively, 682 
 to 685; the bivale shell-fish require no assistance from each other 
 towards impregnation. 088 ; frogs impregnated without any appa- 
 rent instrument of generation, an object of inquiry ; continues iu 
 great obscurity ; experiments made to this purpose, 698. 
 
 Inr.as, Father Acosta and Garcilasso de la Vega have seen the 
 bodies of several incas perfectly preserved from corruption, 194. 
 
 India, (East) in the warm countries of India, the women are mar- 
 riageable at nine or ten, and the men at twelve or thirteen, 138 ; 
 description of the inhabitants of the islands that lie scattered in the 
 Indian ocean ; over all India, children arrive sooner at maturity 
 than in Europe ; they often ir.arrv and consummate, the husband at 
 ten years old, arid the wife at eight, and frequently have children 
 at that age ; Indians have long been remarkable for cowardice and 
 effeminacy ; are slothml, submissive, and luxurious ; they may be 
 considered as a feeble race of sensualists ; from the times of Alex- 
 ander to the present day, scarcely any instances to be found of thf-ir 
 success in arms;' their dress, 181, 182; the horses of India are 
 weak and washy, 220 ; lions are found to diminish in their numbers 
 in this country, 2!>2 ; the Indians eagerly pursue the porcupine, in 
 order to make embroidery of its quills, and to eat its flesh, 376; 
 they cat bats in the East Indies, :iri4. See Elr.phajtt. 422. 
 
 India ( Wcsl) whence originally come the flat heads of the Ame- 
 rican Indians, li-5. 
 
 Indus, river, its course, 62 ; its water and that of the Thames, 
 the most light and wholesome in the world, 50 ; the tide at the 
 mouth of this river the greatest known, 75. 
 
 Infants, just born, may be said to come from one element into 
 another, and why; open their eyes the instant of their birth ; more 
 capable of sustaining hunger, and more patient of cold, than grown 
 persons ; and why ; infants have milk in their own breasts ; their 
 life very precarious till the age of thr?e or four; instances of it; 
 the comparative progress of the understanding greater in infants, 
 than in children of three or four years old. 1:53, 134. 
 
 Inundations generally greater towards the source of rivers, than 
 farther down, and why, 01 ; some distribute health and plenty ; 
 others cause diseases, famine, and death, 64 ; every inundation of 
 the sea attended with some correspondent dereliction of another 
 shore ; one of the most considerable inundations in history, is that 
 which happened in the reign of Henry the First ; an inundation in 
 the territory of Dort, destroyed a hundred thousand persons, and yet 
 a greater number round the Dullart ; remarkable inundations in 
 Fnezlaud and Zealand, in which more than three hundred villages 
 were overwhelmed ; their remains continue visible at the bottom of 
 the water in a clear day ; some in which the sea has overflowed the 
 
ISL 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 KIN 
 
 31 
 
 country, and afterwards retired, 81 ; inundation of the Thames at I 
 Dagenham in Essex, 83; instantly produced by land spouts, 115. 
 
 ln-i r/s, in the internal parts of South America and Africa, they ! 
 grow to a prodigious size, and why; those of the minute kind in j 
 the northern climates not half so large as in the temperate znr ; 
 the ocean has its insects ; their feet are placed upon their !>: 
 and almost all without eyes, 120; in some countries almost darken 
 the air, and a candle cannot be lighted without their instantly fly- 
 ing upon it, and putting out the flame, 122 ; and 827 ; many may 
 be multiplied by being cut in pieces, 125 ; many of the tribes 
 brought forth from the e^g, 126 ; have no eye-lids whatsoever, 
 142; the Indians are fearful of killing the meanest, 181 ; quickly 
 brought to change and adapt themselves to the clim-ite, 205 : have 
 their stomachs composed of muscular fibres ; of a ruminating 
 kind, 232 ; afford so gre.it a variety as to elude the search of the 
 most inquisitive pursuer, 448 ; those \vith the greatest number of , 
 legs move the slowest. 633 ; the general definition of insects. 744 : 
 the different classes, 7-15 : general characteristics of insects without 
 wings, 746 ; of those that have wings. 7b'6 ; some continue under 
 the form of an aurelht not ten days ; some twenty ; some several 
 months, and even for a year, 789 ; general rule, that the female is 
 larger than the male, 794 ; every insect that lives a year after its 
 full growth, is obliged to pass four or five months without nourish- 
 ment, and will seem to be dead all that time, 817 ; description of 
 that which forms and resides in the gall-nut, 824. 
 
 Instinct of all animals in choosing the proper times of copula- 
 tion, 212; the Guinea-pig lias not that natural instinct so common 
 to almost every other creature, 380. 
 
 Intestines, in all animals the size of the intestines proportioned ; 
 to the nature of the food. 207; intestines of ruminating animals 
 enlarged by nature, to take in a greater supply ; those of the car- ! 
 nivorous kind are short, 231 ; also thin and lean ; but of the mini- ; 
 nating are strong, fleshy, and covered witli fat, 232; of sheep 
 found to be above thirty times the length of the body ; those of the 
 wild cat not above three times the length of its body, 291 ; this j 
 shortness still unaccounted for, 292 ; of the rein-deer washed like 
 our tripe, in high esteem among the Laplanders, 277 ; of the bat, I 
 in some measure resemble those of man, 1123 ; those of the manati 
 longer, in proportion, than those of any other creature, the horse 
 exempted, 3!'r ; the tribe of woodpeckers want that intestine called 
 the csecum, 513; the lamprey seems to have but one, Ii3!> ; those j 
 of the crab have many convolutions, 666. 
 
 Jnlmdorif, Quin noted for a sauce to this fish, 013. 
 
 JrHii'!*, hair in its crrowth sends forth branches at the joints, 143. j 
 
 Junelin has obliged the curious with the first accurate descrip- 
 tion of the form and mture of the sable. 331!. 
 
 Ire.lnnd not infested with wolves, 391 ; frogs designedly intro- j 
 duccd into that kingdom some years before the Norway rat, 363; I 
 that rat put a stop to their increase, and the frog is once more 
 almost extinct in that kingdom, 364 ; the mole utterly a stranger ' 
 there, 371. 
 
 Iron extracted from all the substances upon earth, 221. 
 
 hutia, an animal very common in all the northern countries bor- 
 derino 1 upon the icy sea, and seldom found in warm climates ; de- 
 scription ; burrows like the fox, and when with young, the female 
 retires to her kennel, in the same manner as the fox ; its kennel 
 vi:ry narrow, and extremely deep, has many outlets; manner of 
 coupling, time of gestation, and number of young, all similar to j 
 what is found in the fox ; brings forth at the end of May, or the 
 beginning of June ; considered as between the dog and the fox ; 
 changes its colour, and is at one time brown, at another white ; 
 some naturally blue, which never change colour; its fur is two 
 inches long; of no value except the animal is killed in winter; 
 time in which it is called the rra.tt-fox, 326, 327. 
 
 isinglass, serviceable in medicine, and many arts ; very great 
 sums yearly expended upon this article of commerce ; manner of 
 making it ; principally furnished from Russia, where great quanti- 
 ties are prepared surprisingly cheap; Mr. Jackson found out a me- 
 thod of making a glue that answered the purposes of isinglass, 642. 
 
 Islands, new, formed in two ways ; either suddenly by the action 
 of subterraneous fires, or more slowly by the deposition of mud, 
 carried down by rivers, and stopped by some accident ; thirteen 
 islands in the Mediterranean appearing at once emerging from the 
 water; one new formed in the year 1720 near that ot Tercera ; 
 formed at the mouths of many rivers, and how ; a beautiful and 
 large one formed at the mouth of the river Nanquin, in China, not 
 Jess than sixtv miles long, and about twenty broad, 36, 37; appear, 
 at first, infinitely greater than they naturally are ; seem to travel 
 to the shore, and represent a wood ; the scene then shifted, repre- 
 sents curious fiofures, ships with sails, streamers, and flags, antique 
 elevated castles, and at length vanish into nothing, 113. 
 
 Ismarl (Shrqne in his time the Arabians first began the ma- 
 nagement of horses, 216. 
 
 l.-'l/n/iaii, the prince's messengers go on foot 36 leagues in four- 
 teen hours, 150. 
 
 Italy, the horses there have a particular aptitude to prance, 218. 
 
 .'iKntan, a peninsula in the Gulf of Mexico, formerly a part of 
 the sea, 81. 
 
 Jit<la-goat common in Guinea, Angola, and all alunjr the coasts 
 of Africa, not much larger than a hare, 247. 
 
 Jugular fish, name given to that fish which has the ventral fins 
 placed more forward than the pectoral, 047. 
 
 Julian's Buy, (St.) an American harbour, forty-nine degrees 
 south of the line ; Ferdinand Magellan happened to winter in it, 
 
 Jiniij/cr, its shade was fatal, if we credit the ancients, 96; the 
 Laplanders drink water in which these berries have been infused, 
 1 7' 1 . 
 
 Irory, the tusks of the babyrouessa are a very fine ivory, 
 smoother and whiter than that of the elephant, hut not so hard and 
 serviceable. 286 ; that of the morse more esteemed than that of the 
 elephant, being whiter and harder, 390 ; almost all our ivory comes 
 from Africa, where the greatest part is found in the forests ; the 
 tusks of the Mammoth converted to purposes of ivory ; fossil 
 bones found in Peru and the Brazils, which when cut and polished, 
 appear in every respect similar to ivory, 425 ; teeth of the nar- 
 whale far surpass ivory in all its qualities, 622. 
 
 Justinian, the emperor, till his time the sea was open to all na- 
 tions. 68. 
 
 Irij-ln'rrief, showers of them raised by tempests in one country, 
 and falling in another, 114. 
 
 K. 
 
 Kabassoii, or cataphractus, one of the largest kinds of the arma- 
 dillo, 382. 
 
 Kamtschatka, description of its natives, 178. 
 
 Kangaroo, an animal first discovered and described by Mr 
 Banks, 445. 
 
 Ktrataphit.es, among the coraline fungi, 838. 
 
 krriiu's, an insect of great use in medicine and dying ; its de- 
 scription ; the difference of the male from the female; the harvest 
 of the kcrmes greater or less in proportion to the severity ot tha 
 winter ; women gather them before siln-risino-, tearim' them off 
 with their nails, 822. >-.':!. 
 
 Kcstr'd, a bird of the generous breed of hawks, 4S3. 
 
 Kcvel, name of a second variety of gazelles, made by Mr. Buf- 
 fon,251 
 
 Kilda, (St.) a rocky island ; its shores to the West six hundred 
 fathom perpendicular above the surface of the sea, 80 ; the inhabi- 
 tants consume annually near twenty-three thousand young gan- 
 nets, and a great quantity of their eggs, 582 ; its rocks more than 
 three quarters of a mile high. 584. 
 
 Killer, a cetaceous animal of surprising strength, which attacks 
 the whale, 619. 
 
 Kinds of animals not actually distinguished by horns, colour, 
 position of the ears, or fineness of hair, 247 ; difficult to fix precise 
 boundaries between the goat kind and the deer ; the gazelles form 
 a distinct kind, 250 ; all of the deer-kind have no gall-bladder, 
 257. 
 
 Kinr., in Iceland, are without horns, 236. 
 
 King, a question in schools, which man most happy, the beggar 
 by night, and king by day ; or the beagar by day, and kino- by 
 night? 157. 
 
 King-fishrr, a remarkable bird ; its description ; one of the most 
 rapacious little animals that skims the dt-ep ; places it frequents, 
 and how it takes its prey ; the plumage a beautiful variety of bril- 
 liant colours ; instances of credulity with respect to this bird ; its 
 nest, or rather hole, very different from that described by the an- 
 cients ; instances of the credulity of mankind with respect to 
 this bird ; feeds upon fish in that hole ; foitid from the remains of 
 fi.sh ; the king-fisher is found with from five to nine eggs, which 
 the female continues to hatch ; though disturbed and robbed, she 
 returns and lays again ; Reaumur's account of this ; season for 
 excludino- the brood ; the male faithful beyond the turtle, brings 
 the female large provisions of fish, and keeps her plump and fat ; 
 he used to twitter before, now enters the nest quietly and private- 
 ly ; the young hatched in twenty days ; differ in their size and 
 beauty, 602, 603. 
 
 King-fisher, the Halcyon. Cicero has written a long poem in 
 praise of this bird, of which but two lines remain ; the emperor 
 
LA? 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 LEM 
 
 Gordian has al.-o written a long poem on it, nothing of which is 
 left; St. Ar.i!>r-iM-'.-, credulity concerning this bud: tables the ino- 
 k-ru v.iljar have of it : its flesh unfit to he oaten, and its beautil'ul 
 plumage pre*erveg its iustre longer than any other. 002, 603. 
 
 Kircker, hl< :lrul;i.ti'in of t!:e hc.ights of the mountains arc in- 
 credible, ami \\-\iv. 45; has sot the voices of birds to music, -490. 
 
 Kiic, from the greatest height, darts down on its prey with uner- 
 tinir aim, 4">H : one of tlin b -is-'T race of hawks, 461 ; distinguished 
 by its forky toil, and slow floating motion; seems ever upon the 
 vin^. :i::<l In i. Hike no effort in 11., in;; : livt's upon accidental car- 
 cage, every bird i:i til ' air being able to make its retreat from it ; 
 mail birds wounded, er straying chicken*, it seizes viith rapacity ; 
 of all birds, the "o'<d huusu'.yitu s neatest tormentor and aversion. 
 'f'i : us'-ii ii.r lra~iir.ii:; falcons, and how lured with the great horned 
 wl, when caught tor tliat purpose. 4iiO. 
 
 Kitten, of alf yeung animals none more prettily playful, ifc:*. 
 
 Klein, his method of classing animals, '21)1. 
 
 Kuui, small bird of the crune kind, 508 ; a bird of passage, 509. 
 
 Krakrn, all tiiat has been said of this great fish seems fictitious, 
 yet there is a possibility of its existence, 620. 
 
 Krantz's account of the origin and formation of the ice-mountains 
 of Greenland, 72. 
 
 L. 
 
 Lalirus. the wrasse, description of this fish, 648. 
 
 Labyrinth of Candia, a subterranean wonder; supposed the work 
 ef art, 18. 
 
 Labyrinth, convolutions in the windpipe and lungs of some 
 birds, 451. 
 
 Lama, the camel of the new world ; countries where fouixt ; their 
 flesh an excellent food ; their hair, or rather wool, spun into beauti- 
 ful cloathing ; carry their burdens over precipices and craggy 
 rocks, where men can scarce accompany them ; often dies under, 
 but never resists his driver's cruelty ; description and age ; manner 
 of coupling; its food ; exceeds the camel intemperance; requires 
 little water, being supplied with quantities of saliva, the only offen- 
 sive weapon it has to testify its resentment ; the Indians say, 
 where this saliva falls, it will, from its acrimonious nature, burn the 
 skin, or cause dangerous eruptions ; colour and wool ; habits and 
 marks of agility in the state of nature ; the stag scarcely more 
 swift, or the goat a better climber ; seems the largest of the camel 
 kind in America ; the natives hunt the wild lama for its fleece ; a 
 smaller weaker sort of the camel kind, called also guanacoe and 
 paco ; the manufacture of stuffs, carpets, and quilts, made of the 
 wool of the paco, form a considerable branch of commerce in South 
 America, and might usefully be extended to Europe, 4:i3, 4:>4. 
 
 Lambs, how to be produced all the year round, 212 ; the third an 
 ewe brings forth supposed the best, 2-1:1. 
 
 Lamprey, a fish, every way resembling the lamprey, was pos- 
 sessed of the numbing quality of the torpedo ; people will not ven- 
 ture to touch those of Ireland ; a species very different from ours 
 served up as a delicacy among the modern Romans ; doubtful 
 whether it be the murcna of the ancients, which our lamprey is 
 not ; ours differently estimated according to the season ; those of 
 the river Severn the mcst delicate of all fish; description of this 
 fish's extraordinary power of adhering to stones ; instance of it ; 
 Muralto giving the anatomy of this fish, makes no mention of the 
 lungs, for which it has absolute necessity to breathe in the air ; its 
 time of leaving the sea annually, in order to spawn, is the begin- 
 ning of spring ; after a few months it returns to the sea ; peculiar 
 preparation for spawning ; the young from eggs : the female re- 
 mains at the place where produced ; has her family playing about 
 her, and conducts them in triumph to the ocean ; its food; some not 
 having sufficient strength to return, continue in fresh water 'till 
 they die ; a single brood the extent of the female's fertility, two 
 years being the limits of her existence ; very indifferent eating at 
 the approach of hot weather ; best season for them in the months 
 of March, April, and May ; are usually taken in nets with salmon, 
 sometimes in baskets at the bottom of the river ; old custom for the 
 city of Gloucester annually to present the king with a lamprey pie ; 
 a senator of Rome used to throw into the ponds such of his slaves 
 as displeased him, to feed the lampreys, 637, 638. 
 
 Lands, new, produced from the sea, and in what manner, 81. 
 
 Ijinner, bird of the generous breed of hawks, now little known 
 in Europe, 483. 
 
 Lapland, its division, 273 ; mountains there preferred to the 
 woods ; the country abounds more than others with marshy bottoms 
 and weedy lakes ; gnats and gad-flies formidable there, 274 ; the 
 manner of travelling in it ; Laplanders castrate the rein- deer with 
 
 their teeth, 245, 246 ; the wo!f never attacks a rein-deer that is 
 haltered, and why, 321 ; the isitis found in this country, o27 ; in the 
 forests, squirrels observed to change their habitation ; they remove 
 in numbers from one country to another, 353. 
 
 IsaplandeTfj one of the first distinct races of men r-~und the polar 
 regions ; description of thfir persons and manners ; h;.ve in every 
 family a drum for consulting the devil; Gustavus Adolphus at- 
 tempted in vain to form a regiment of Laplanders ; ii-; 1 skates to 
 run and slide, and how ; are all hunters ; offer their wives and 
 daughters to strangers, 177, 17d; manner of life, 00 ; v.ants sup- 
 plied, and riches derived from the rein-deer ; daub their fares with 
 pitch mixed with milk, to shield their skins from the dreadful de- 
 predations of the gnats, 274 ; boil milk, with wood-sorrel, and keep 
 it in casks under ground to be eaten in winter, 277 ; when the 
 leming's draw up to fight, they form ominous prognostics from their 
 arrangement, o?0 ; happy when an army of lemings comes down 
 nmcmg them ; they then feast upon their flesh, which cats and dogs 
 detest, ib. 
 
 Lapwing, a small bird of the crane kind, 5C3 ; its arts to lead off 
 men and dogs from their nests; their seasons of courtship, 570. 
 
 Lark, bird of the sparrow kind, 537 ; the sky, the wood, or the 
 tit lark, distinguishable from other little birds by length of heel, and 
 loud song ; nest, number of eggs, and habits ; when risen to a.n im- 
 perceptible height, does not lose siyht of its nest, either ascending 
 or descending, 543 ; those that remain with us the year throughout 
 are birds of passage in Sweden. 53.^. 
 
 Lark, (Sea) a small bird of the crane kind, 503 ; breeds in this 
 country, 570. 
 
 Lara, matter discharged by the eruptions of volcanoes, 30. 
 
 Luvgkter, in what manner produced, 144. 
 
 Launce, description of this fish, 649. 
 
 Lauricocha, a lake where.in the river Amazons ha? its source, 63. 
 
 Lawrence, (St.) a river ; its rise and source ; receives about forty 
 rivers, 63 ; its cataract, 65. 
 
 Laws, one of the Orkney islands, entitling any person that kills 
 an eagle to a hen from every house in the parish where killed, 474. 
 
 Layer, the impression on the place where the stag has lain, 202. 
 
 Layers of the earth regularly disposed, but not of the same kind 
 in every place ; enumeration of layers of earth in a well dug at Am- 
 sterdam, and of another dug at Marly ; a layer, as far as it extends, 
 always maintains the same thickness ; proceeding to considerable 
 depths, every layer is thicker; are sometimes very extensive, 
 and often found to spread over a ,pace of some leagues in cir- 
 cumference, 17; remarkable layers of earth round the city of 
 Modena, 83. 
 
 Lead-mine, teeth of the elephant found in one in Flintshire, 424. 
 
 Leather called shammoi, made of the skin of that animal, and 
 also from those of the tame goat, the sheep, and the deer, 250. 
 
 Leather-harness devoured by the jackal, 320. 
 
 Leaves, two of a fig-tree, by experiment, imbibed from the earth 
 two ounces of water in five hours and a half. 57. 
 
 Letch, different kinds ; its description ; takes a large quantity of 
 food ; has no anus or passage to eject it from the body when digested ; 
 in wliat it differs from the rest of the reptile tribe' ; produces forty 
 or fifty at a birth ; never breeds in confinement ; the leech used in 
 medicine ; a girl of nine years old killed by leeches ; best way of 
 
 applying leeches, 7(13, 7(1-1". 
 Legs, a i 
 
 man without them performed astonishing feats of dex- 
 terity, 416. 
 
 Leming, a bold animal of the rat kind, native of Scandinavia; 
 often pours down in myriads from the northern mountains, and, 
 like a pestilence, destroys all the productions of the earth ; they 
 are often seen covering the ground a mile broad ; Laplanders be- 
 lieve they drop from the clouds ; their description ; .they move, in 
 a square, forward by niijiit. and lying still by day ; whither their 
 motions are turned nothing can stop them ; a fire, a deep well, a 
 torrent, does not turn them out of their direction ; they never re 
 treat ; interrupted by a boat across a river, they go over it ; stopped 
 by a stack of hay or corn, they gnaw their way through ; and ob- 
 structed by a house they cannot get through, continue before it till 
 they die ; eat nothing prepared for human subsistence ; never enter 
 a house to destroy provisions ; passing through a meadow, destroy 
 it in a short time, and leave it with the appearance of being burnt 
 up and strewed over with ashea ; a man imprudently attacking one 
 of them, the animal furiously flies tit him, barking something like a 
 puppy, fastens, and does not easily quit his hold ; their leader 
 forced out of the line after a long defence, and separated from the 
 rest, sets up a plaintive cry, not of anger, and hangs itself on the 
 fork of a tree ; they destroy and devour each other ; after incredi- 
 ble devastations, they separate into armies, opposed with deadly 
 hatred, and move along the coasts of the larger lakes and rivers : 
 
L1O 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 LOB 
 
 33 
 
 round, and produce malignant disorders ; they seem also to inf 
 the plants, the cattle often dying in the places where they passe 
 
 the Laplanders form prognostics from the manner of their arrange- 
 ment ; what prognostics ; the divisions continue their engagements 
 and animosity until one party be overcome, then they disappear ; 
 and it is supposed, that having nothing to subsist on, they devour 
 each other ; their carcasses sometimes infect the air for miles 
 
 nfect 
 
 ng in the places where they passed ; 
 
 the male larger, and more beautifully spotted than the female ; are 
 extremely prolific ; breeding does not hinder their march, some 
 carrying one young in their mouth, and another on their back ; are 
 greatly preyed upon by the ermine, and even by the rein-deer; dogs 
 and cats detest their flesh, but the Laplanders esteem it good eating, 
 and devour it greedily, 369, 370. 
 
 Leo, the emperor, granted the nations in possession of the shore 
 the sole right of fishing before their respective territories, 68. 
 
 Leopard, the American, is neither so fierce nor so valiant as that 
 of Africa and Asia, 211 ; the leopard will not fly at the approach 
 of the lion, 295; the great panther and the leopard or panther of 
 Senegal ; differences between these animals, 303. 
 
 Lepudogaster, description of this fish, 649. 
 
 Leprosy, in what manner the Indians endeavour to prevent the 
 Arabian leprosy, or the elephantiasis ; a disease to which man and 
 the elephant are equally subject, 420. 
 
 Lerot, the middle dormouse, according to Mr. Buffon, 366. 
 
 Libt'lla, the dragon-fly ; general characteristics ; eggs ; food of 
 the young ; how they prepare to change from the reptile to the Hy- 
 ing state ; description ; the strongest and most courageous of all 
 winged insects : their appetite so great that they have been seen to 
 devour three times their own size in the capture of a single hour ; 
 the business of impregnation how performed, 766, 767. 
 
 Liboyti, the greatest of the serpent kind, 727. 
 
 Lichen ranaiferinus, the food of the rein-deer, a moss in Lapland 
 of two kinds, the white in the fields, and the black on the trefs, 
 273, 274. 
 
 Life, formerly supposed producible only by oviparous and vivipa- 
 rous generation, but later discoveries induce many to doubt 
 whether animal lif'o may not be produced merely from putrefac- 
 tion, 125; the beginning of our lives, as well as the end, is marked 
 with anguish, 133 ; that of infants very precarious till the age of 
 three or four ; instances of it, 138 ; the duration of life in general 
 nearly the same in most countries, 175 ; the most useless and con- 
 temptible, of all others the most difficult to destroy, 831. 
 
 Light, the hand exposed to broad day-light some time, then im- 
 mediately snatched into a dark room, will be luminous, and re- 
 main so for some time, and why; dangerous to the sight to look 
 steadily upon bright and luminous objects, and why ; such persons 
 as read or write for any continuance should choose a moderate 
 light, 163. 
 
 Light sent forth by the glow-worm, how produced hitherto in- 
 explicable, 821 ; sent forth by the star-fish, resembles that of 
 phosphorus, 832. 
 
 Lightning, is an electrical flash produced by the opposition of 
 two clouds, 109 ; of the torrid zone not so fatal or so dangerous as 
 with us, otherwise those regions would be uninhabitable, 111; flash- 
 ing without noise, illuminates the sky all round in the torrid 
 zone, 110. 
 
 Lights, northern lights illuminate half the hemisphere, 110. 
 
 Limbs, of the inhabitants near the poles are sometimes frozen and 
 drop off, 113; some animals live without, and ollen are seen to re- 
 produce them, 831. 
 
 Lime, manner of making it in Persia, 25. 
 
 Line, upon the approach of the winter months under the line, the 
 whole horizon seems wrapt in a muddy cloud, 110 ; in America, all 
 that part of the continent which lies under the line is cool and 
 pleasant, 184 ; in general, as we approach the line, we find the inha- 
 bitants of each country grow browner, until the colour deepens into 
 perfect blackness, ib. 
 
 Liniueus, the celebrated naturalist, supposes man a native of the 
 tropical climates, and only a sojourner more to the north ; argu- 
 ment to prove the contrary, 185; his method of classing animals, 
 201 ; makes the female of the bat a primus, to rank in the same 
 order with man, 3S4. 
 
 Linnet, a bird of the sparrow kind, 837 ; taught to whistle a long 
 and regular tune, 546. 
 
 Lion, to compare the strength of the lion with that of man, it 
 should be considered that the claws of this animal give a false idea 
 of its power, ascribing to its force what is the effect of its arms, 149 ; 
 does not willingly attack the horse, and only when compelled by 
 the keenest hunger ; combats between a lion and a horse in Italy ; 
 the lion stunned and left sprawling, the horse escapes, but the lion 
 succeeding, sticks to its prey, and tears the horse to pieces instant- 
 
 NO. 79 &, 80. 
 
 ly ; leaps twenty feet at a spring, 207, 208 ; produced under the 
 burning sun of Africa, is the most terrible and undaunted creature ; 
 he degenerates when removed from the torrid zone, 293 ; descrip- 
 tion of this noble animal ; a single lion of the desert often attacks 
 an entire caravan ; he crouches on his belly, and continues so with 
 patient expectation, until his prey comes within a proper distance ; 
 the female has no mane ; his roaring is so loud, that when heard in 
 the night, and re-echoed by the mountains, it resembles distant 
 thunder ; his most usual prey are gazelles and monkeys, 294, 295 ; 
 in countries tolerably inhabited, the lion is cowardly, and often 
 scared by the cries of* women and children, 289; attends to the call 
 of the jackal, 326. 
 
 Lions, those of mount Atlas have not the strength or ferocity of 
 those of Biledulgerid or Zaara ; aperies of this animal diminishing 
 daily ; Mr. Shaw observes, the Romans carried fifty times as many 
 lions from Lybia in one year, for their amphitheatres, as are in the 
 whole country at this time ; the same remark made with regard to 
 Turkey, Persia .and I lie Indies, where lions diminish in their number 
 daily; those inhabiting the peopled countries of Morocco, or India, 
 scared away with a shout ; the keepers play with him, plague and 
 chastise him, without a cause, he bears it with composure ; but his 
 anger once excited, the consequences are terrible ; an instance 
 from Labat ; numberless accounts assure his anger noble, his 
 courage magnanimous, and his natural ferocity seldom exerted 
 against his benefactors ; lie has spared the lives of those thrown to 
 be devoured by him, afforded them part of his subsistence, and 
 sometimes abstains from food himself to suppnrt them ; necessity 
 alone makes him cruel ; the manner of hunting him by Hottentots 
 and others ; reported that he sustains hunger a long time, but 
 thirst he cannot support ; some believe him in a continual fever ; he 
 drinks as often as lie finds water, and laps it ; he requires about fif- 
 teen pounds of raw flesh in a day ; he rather hunts for a fresh spoil, 
 than returns to that he had before ; his breath is offensive, and his 
 urine insupportable ; horses for hunting them of that sort called 
 charossi, all others fly at the sight of him, 292, 293 ; the lion pre- 
 fers the flesh of camels to other food ; is also fond of that of young 
 elephants ; when old, finding men and quadrupeds together, he at- 
 tacks the latter, and never meddles with men, unless provoked ; 
 manner of copulation, time of gestation, number brought forth, and 
 time taken to come to perfection, all known; his internal structure 
 in almost every respect resembles that of a cat ; a lion in the 
 Tower of London above seventy years ; the lioness fearing her re- 
 treat discovered, hides her tracks by running back, or Brushing 
 them out with her tail ; becomes terrible with young ones to pro- 
 vide for ; lions, incited by desire, fight bloody battles, till one be- 
 comes victorious over the rest ; the size of the lion between three and 
 four feet ; the female, in all dimensions, about one-third less ; there 
 are properly no lions in America ; the puma has received the name 
 of the American lion, but when compared, is a very contemptible 
 animal ; the ancients all concurred in denominating the lion the 
 king of beasts, 296, 297. 
 
 Lion-cut or Anaura-cat, a beautiful animal, a native of Syria and 
 Persia, 291,292. 
 
 Lion, (Sea) described in Anson's voyages, regarded as the largest 
 ! of the seal family, 395. 
 
 f.ijjiilo/His, the garter fish, its description, 650. 
 
 Lips, those of the hare and of the squirrel continually move, 
 whether sleeping or waking, 345. 
 
 Lilti'rs, in all animals, intermediate litters most fruitful ; first 
 and last generally produce fewest and weakest of the kind, 212. 
 
 Littoral es, Latin name for those shells that are cast upon shore, 680. 
 
 Liter of a shark affords three or four quarts of oil, 631. 
 
 Lizards, along the coasts of Guinea their flesh esteemed a deli- 
 cacy. 315 ; differ from every other class of animals and from each 
 other, 709, 710 ; whence the greatest distinction; general charac- 
 teristics ; the water-kind changes its skin everv fourth or fifth day ; 
 sprinkled with salt, the whole body emits a viscous liquor, and the 
 lizard dies in three minutes in great agonies ; whole of the kind 
 sustain the want of ibod in a surprising manner. "I:'. 
 
 Lizard (Chalcydon) of Aldntvandus described. 722. 
 
 Lizard (flying) of Java, account of it by Gentil, 722. 
 
 Loach, a description of this fish, 650 
 
 Lobster, a ruminating fish, 232 ; very voracious, though without 
 warmth in its body, or red blood in its veins ; whatever it seizes 
 upon and has life perishes, however well defended ; they devour 
 each other, and, in some measure, eat themselves ; changing their 
 shell and stomach every year, the old stomach is the first morsel to 
 glut the new ; at first sight the head may be mistaken for the tail ; 
 its description ; the food of the young ; the moulting season ; how 
 they change their shells ; many die under this operation ; speedy 
 growth of the new shell ; and of itself after the change) the claws of 
 
 6K 
 
34 
 
 MAG 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 MAN 
 
 unequal magnitude, anil why : at certain seasons they never meet 
 without an engagement; wonders this extraordinary creature 
 offers to the imagination ; are endowed with a vital principle that 
 furnishes out such limbs as have been cut away ; varieties of this 
 animal with diii'erences in the claws, little in the habits or con- 
 formation ; the shell black when taken, but turns red by boiling ; 
 common way of taking the lobster, 663 to b'6(i. 
 
 Locust, the great brown locust seen in several parts of England 
 in 1748 ; in some southern kingdoms they are still formidable ; 
 description of this insect; in what manner they take the field; 
 their devastations ; are still more noxious when dead ; instance of 
 it ; account of their devastations in Russia, Poland, Lithuania, and 
 Barbery ; transformations ; eaten by the natives in many kingdoms 
 of the East, and caught in small nets for that purpose ; their taste : 
 are considered as a great delicacy in Tonquin, by the rich and the 
 poor; must have been a common food with the Jews ; description 
 of the great West Indian Locust, the most formidable, 773 to 
 776. 
 
 Loir, the great dormouse, so called hy Mr. Buffon. 3t>6. 
 
 Longevity, persons remarkable for it, 2!)5. 
 
 Lori, the longest of all animals in proportion to its size ; descrip- 
 tion ; a native of the island of Ceylon, 413. 
 
 Loricaria, description of this fish, 650. 
 
 Lories, a kind of parrot, 526. 
 
 Louse, its description ; whether distinguished by the parts of 
 generation into males and females, not yet discovered ; the lousy 
 disease frequent among the ancients, many of whom died of this 
 disorder, 753, 754. 
 
 Louse (wood,) the description ; of great use in medicine, 758. 
 
 Lowenhoeck, his opinion about the rudiments of animals, 123. 
 
 Luminous appearance of the waves in the night, the cause, 73. 
 
 Lump-fish, its description ; flung into a pail of water, will stick 
 so close to the bottom, that on taking the fish by the tail, the 
 pail and several gallons of water may be lifted ; their flesh, 043, 
 644. 
 
 Lungs, animals before birth make no use of their lungs, 393 ; no 
 anatomist has described the lungs of the lamprey, 63ci ; caterpil- 
 lars have eighteen lungs, and live several days in the exhausted 
 receiver of the air-pump, 786. 
 
 Lybia, its inhabitants use ostriches as horses ; also at Joar ; in- 
 stance of it at the factory of Podore, 465. 
 
 l.ijlinijii. of Surinam, a kind of serpent, thirty-six feet long, 727. 
 
 Lynx, distinguished from the ounce, and described ; first striking 
 distinction between it and those of the panther-kind is the tail ; 
 each hair of this animal is of three different colours ; it is not 
 above the size of the ounce ; chiefly met with in the cold coun- 
 tries bordering on the pole, in the north of Germany, Lithuania, 
 Muscovy, Siberia, and North America ; those of the New Con- 
 tinent are smaller than in Europe ; this animal has been called the 
 lupus cervarius ; but for what reason hard to guess ; in its nature 
 it cx-ictly resembles the cat, is bigger, and near two feet long, is 
 also bolder and fiercer ; more delicate than the cat ; resembles the 
 wolf in nothing except its cry ; several reports of the lynx, pro- 
 pagated by ignorance or imposture, 304 to 306. 
 
 Lyster, strangeness of his theory to explain the invariable mo- 
 tion of winds, 100. 
 
 Lytlwphytes and coraline substances, 837. 
 
 M. 
 
 Macaguo, a kind of monkey described by Mr. Buffon, 411. 
 
 Mftccair, the large kind of parrot, the size of a raven, 526. 
 
 Maiichhiel-tree, in America, its shade fatal, 95 ; no plant will 
 grow under it, 128. 
 
 Machines, the invention of many has rendered human strength 
 less valuable, 152. 
 
 Mnrkarel produces five hundred thousand eggs in one season, 
 (i!2 ; described, 648 ; its growth, 657. 
 
 Madagascar, its natives desire nothing so ardently as to prosti- 
 tute their wives or daughters to strangers, and for the most trifling 
 advantages, 139 ; the great bat of that island described, 385. 
 
 Madder. See Biiioa, 173. 
 
 . Madness, produced by want of sleep, 156 ; cured by music, 
 and also caused by it. See Henry IV. 166. 
 
 Maelstroom, Dutch name for a whirlpool; one upon the coast of 
 Norway, considered as most dreadful and destructive ; the body 
 of water forming this whirlpool, extended in a circle of above 
 thirteen miles, 7^. 
 
 Ma/gtHaa (Ferdinand,) a Portuguese of noble extraction, first 
 discovered the gigantic race of mankind, towards the extremity 
 
 of South America ; account of this discovery ; he waa slain upon 
 one of the Molucca islands, 191. 
 
 Magni. an llalian traveller, discovered the remarkable grotto of 
 Antiparos, in the Archipelago, 20. 
 
 Ma-got of Buffon, the Cynocephalus, the last of the ape kind, 
 described, 404. 
 
 Magpie, thievish; rings found in the nest of a tame magpie, 
 512 ; habits and food ; when satisfied for the present it lays up 
 the remainder for another time ; places where it builds, and nest 
 described ; number of eggs in its domestic state ; preserves its 
 natural character strictly ; foolish custom of cutting its tongue to 
 teach it to speak ; puts the animal to pain, and balks the inten- 
 tion, 516, .">! 7. 
 
 Mahumi/un.t, considering the hare as an unclean animal, reli- 
 giously abstain from its flesh, 348. 
 
 Mni.mnn, the last of the baboons, Edwards calls it the pigtail ; 
 its description ; native of Sumatra ; does not well endure the 
 rigours of our climate, 406. 
 
 Ma ire (James Le,) a traveller who confirms the existence of 
 giants in America, 191. 
 
 Maki., the last of the monkey kind, 398 ; their description ; many 
 diU'i-rrnt kinds of these animals, 411, 412. 
 
 Malabar, land and sea breezes upon those coasts, 103. 
 
 Malacopterigii, the barbarous Greek name given to the soft- 
 finned fish ; the prickly-finned sort termed .4cantlwptcrigii, 647. 
 
 Malnhnllo, a very considerable volcano in South America, 29. 
 
 Malbianclic, grounds his beautiful theory of monstrous produc- 
 tions upon a famous instance related by him, and some theory 
 from which he deduces the effects of imagination upon the foetus, 
 187. 
 
 Mulbrouk, a monkey of the ancient continent ; its description ; 
 the Bramins have hospitals for such as are sick or disabled, 638. 
 
 Ma-tu.it ia Islands have land in them at one time covered with 
 water, and at another free, 82. 
 
 Milliard, a kind of duck, 598 ; with very particular faculties for 
 calling, 600. 
 
 Malpighi, his famous experiment upon the stigmata of cater- 
 pillars, 786. 
 
 Mammoth, its tusks, which are used as ivory, and supposed to 
 belong to the elephant, often weigh four hundred pounds, 425. 
 
 Man endures a greater variety of climates than the lower orders 
 are able to do, and why. 93 ; on comparing the minute differences 
 of mankind, it will be found that there is scarce one nation upon 
 earth that entirely resembles another ; differences in his species less 
 than in animals, and rather taken from the tincture of the skin than 
 variety of figure ;. there are not in the world above six distinct 
 varieties in the race of men ; first race in the polar regions, deep 
 brown, short, oddly shaped, savage ; second, the Tartar race, 
 olive-coloured, middle-sized, ugly, robust ; third, the southern 
 Asiatics, dark olive, slender shaped, straight black hair, feeble ; 
 fourth, the Negroes of Africa, black, smooth skin, woolly hair, 
 well shaped ; fifth, the Americans, copper colour, straight black 
 hair, small eyes, slight lii.ibed, not strong ; sixth, the Europeans 
 and bordering nations, white and of different tints, fine hair, large 
 limbed, vigorous, 177 to 183 ; may be called the animal of every 
 climate, 121; intended naturally to be white, 184; white men 
 resemble our common parent more than the rest of his children ; 
 a native of the tropical climates, and only a sojourner more to the 
 north, according to Linnaeus; argument sufficient to prove the 
 contrary, 185 ; marriageable in the warm countries of India at 
 twelve and thirteen years of age, 189; just come into the world 
 gives a picture of complete imbecility, 133; a vain man ventures 
 to excite an auditor's attention at the risk of incurring his dislike, 
 146 ; as man has a superiority of powers over other animals, so is 
 he proportionably inferior to them in his necessities ;' nature has 
 made him subject to more wants and infirmities than other crea- 
 tures, but all these wants seem given to multiply the number of 
 his enjoyments ; and in what manner, 153 ; first sensations of a 
 man newly brought into existence, and the steps by which he 
 arrives at reality, pointed out by Mr. Buffon, 171 ; the only 
 animal that supports himself perfectly erect ; the buttock in man 
 different from all other animals ; man's feet also different from 
 those of other animals, the apes not excepted ; the nails less 
 in man than in any animal, 148 ; said to be tall when from five 
 feet eight inches to six feet high, 149 ; probability that men have 
 been, in all ages, much of the same size they are at present, J92 ; 
 proportionably stronger for his size than any other animal ; to 
 compare the strength of the lion with that of man, it must be 
 considered the claws of the animal give a false idea of its power, 
 and ascribe to its force the effects of its arms ; another manner of 
 comparing the strength of man with that of animals, is by the 
 
MAR 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 35 
 
 weights which either Can carry ; Dr. Desaguliera speaks of a man 
 able to raise two thousand pounds, by distributing the weights in 
 such a manner that every part of his body bore its share, 350 ; 
 exercised in runninp; outstrips horses ; a stout walker, in a jour- 
 ney, walks down a horse ; those employed as messengers at Ispa- 
 han in Persia, runners by profession, go thirty-six leagUM in four- 
 teen hours, 150 ; every animal endures the want of sleep and hun- 
 ger with less injury to health than man, 153 ; he nannot, uninjured, 
 live many days without eating, drinking, and sleeping, ib. ; one 
 said to live without food for seven days, 155 ; requires sloep for 
 double motives, the refreshment of the mental as well as the bodi- 
 ly frame, 156 ; more difficult for man than any other animal to 
 procure sleep, ib. ; has a lump upon the windpipe not to bo seen in 
 women, 147; a young man deaf and dumb from his birth, knew 
 nothing of death, and never thought of it till the age of twenty- 
 four, when he began to speak all of a sudden, 107 ; account of a 
 man ruminating, 232 , in those countries where men are most bar- 
 barous and stupid, their brutes are most active and sagacious, 410 ; 
 one, without hands or legs, by practice used his stumps for the 
 most convenient purposes, and performed astonishing feats of dex- 
 terity, 416; man dies under wounds which a quadruped or bird 
 could easily survive, 830. 
 
 Manufactures, the woollen manufacture not carried on here till 
 several agea after sheep were propagated in England ; unavailing 
 efforts of our kings to introduce and preserve it; the Flemings 
 possessed the art to a superior degree ; the inhabitants of the 
 Netherlands improved us in this art, and when ; the woollen-manu- 
 facture supposed for some time decaying among us, 243 ; of stuff's 
 of the wool of the pacos, a considerable branch of commerce in 
 South America, 434. 
 
 Mnii'iti, may indiscriminately be the last of beasts, or the first of 
 fishes; its description; the female has breasts placed forward like 
 those of women ; holds her young ones with her paws to her bosom, 
 where it sticks and accompanies her wherever she goes ; the tongue 
 so short, some have pretended it has none ; never entirely leaves 
 the water ; only advances the head out of the stream, to reach the 
 grass on the river sides ; it feeds entirely on vegetables ; places 
 where found ; graze among turtles and other crustaceous fishes, 
 giving or fearing no disturbance ; unmolested they keep together 
 in large companies, and surround their young ; bring forth in 
 autumn ; and supposed to go with young eighteen months ; the ma- 
 nati has no voice nor cry ; its intestines are longer in proportion 
 than those of any other creature, the horse exempted ; the fat which 
 lies under the skin, exposed to the sun, has a fine, smell and taste, 
 and exceeds the fat of any sea animal ; the heat of the sun does not 
 make it rancid ; it tastes like the oil of sweet almonds, and serves 
 every way instead of butter ; any quantity may be taken inwardly, 
 having no other effect than to keep the body open ; the fat of the 
 tail boiled, more delicate than the former ; the lean takes, a long 
 time in boiling, and eats like beef; may be kept a long time in the 
 hottest days without tainting ; the fat of the young like pork, and 
 the lean like veal ; upon the whole this animal's flesh resembles 
 turtle, H'.iii. 
 
 Mandril, the largest of the baboon kind; its description ; when 
 displeased, weeps like a child ; is a native of the Gold Coast, 406. 
 
 Mangabc.ij, a monkey of the ancient continent ; its descrip- 
 tion, 411. 
 
 Mangrove-tree, that grows down in the water of the Senegal 
 river, 64. 
 
 Manks-jmJJln, or coulterncb, a small water-fowl, described, 
 590,591. ' 
 
 Jtforeonre*, their composition ; experiment by way of proof. 33. 
 
 Mares, their exportation prohibited by law in Arabia, '217 ; studs 
 in Persia of ten thousand white mares, with hoofs so hard, that 
 shoeing is unnecessary, 218 ; a law in England, prohibiting the ex- 
 portation of mares and stallions ; and one similar to this obtained 
 co early as the time of Athelstan, 222. 
 
 Marikina, a monkey of the sagoin kind, with a mane round the 
 neck, and a bunch of hair at the end of the tail, like a lion, 412. 
 
 Marmose, only differs in size from the oppossum, being less ; in- 
 stead of the bag to receive the young, has only two longitudinal 
 folds, within which the premature young continue to suck ; when 
 first produced, not above the size of a bean ; but stick to the teat 
 until they arrive at maturity, 415. 
 
 Murmout, or marmotte, a ruminating animal, 232; a native of the 
 Alps ; its description ; is easily tamed, readily taught to dance, 
 wield a stick, and obey the voice of its master ; it has an antipathy 
 to the dog ; and when become familiar, and is supported by its mas- 
 ter, it attacks and bites the largest, mastiff; strength and agility ; 
 except its enmity to dogs, lives in friendship with every creature, 
 unless provoked ; ludicrous saying that the Savoyards, the only 
 
 Jl chimney-sweepers of Paris, have learned their art from the mar- 
 l' mottn they carry about for show ; is apt to knaw the furniture ; 
 |l other afflictions of this animal ; its food; is cleanly, but has a dis- 
 || agreeable scent; sleeps during winter; though a native of the 
 I highest mountains, and where the snow is nevei wholly melted, yet 
 it fuels the influence of cold more than any other animal; form of its 
 ,; hole resembles the letter Y; manner of making it; they live 
 ; together, and work in common to make their habitations snug and 
 convenient; whan they venture abroad, one is placed as sentinel 
 upon a lofty rock ; Mr. Buffon says it does not sleep during winter, is 
 rather in a torpor, a stagnation of all its faculties; its heat not more 
 ; than ten degrees above congelation ; the flesh said to have a wild 
 |j taste, and to cause vomiting ; countries whore it is found ; inhabi- 
 tants of the Alps do not till winter open its hole ; produces but 
 once a year, and brings forth three or four at a time ; they grow 
 fast, and their lives not above nine or ten years, 355. :tr>li. 
 
 Miirrintfr and Consummation of the Indians, the husband at ten 
 yrars old, and the wife at eight ; frequently have children at that 
 age, 1*1. 
 
 Mnriiiitr, his experiment proves that water acts as a menstruum 
 upon air. 111-'. 
 
 Miirniir, spinal, and the brain, the first seen as begun in the 
 embryo, 159. 
 
 Martin, its description; the most beautiful of all British beasls of 
 prey ; its scent a pleasing perfume ; the v'ellow-breasleil martin ; its 
 fur more valuable than the white-breasted eort ; Mr. Buffon sup- 
 poses them a distinct species ; that distinction unnecessary ; of all 
 the weasel-kind the most pleasini, 334, 335 ; is fond of honey, 332; 
 seldom meets the wild cat without a combat ; the wild cat not a 
 match for the martin ; there is scarcely an animal in our woods 
 that will venture to oppose it ; kept tame by Gesner and Mr. Buf- 
 fon ; often slept for two days, and then was two or three days with- 
 out sleeping ; the yellow-breasted more common in France than 
 England; in their retreat the female brings fortli her younor, three 
 or lour at a time, and they come with their eyes closed ; how she 
 compensates for her deficiency of milk ; this animal more common 
 in North America than Europe ; found in all northern parts of tho 
 world, from Siberia to China and Canada ; small birds alarm the 
 spot, where the dam keeps her young, and direct the hunter in his 
 pursuit ; the white-breasted keeps near houses and villages ; the 
 yellow in woods ; leads a savage life, 335 ; its nest generally the 
 tenement of the squirrel, taking possession, and killing the owner, 
 353 ; seizes also the flying-squirrel, 354. 
 
 Martin, a bird of the swallow-tribe, 546. 
 
 Mastiff, one of the three descendants of the shepherd's dog ; 
 chiefly a native of England ; when transported into Denmark, be- 
 comes the little Danish dog, 311 ; the Dutch mastiff, 312. 
 
 Mastiff-fox, second variety of foxes less than the greyhound 
 fox, 325. 
 
 Maturity, attained to by slow steps, announces a slow march to 
 old age ; as true to other animals as to man and vegetables, 174 ; 
 sooner arrived at in India than in Europe, 181. 
 
 Maie, in fishes possesses the power of digesting, 608. 
 
 Musi win, (the Emperor) a prodigy of strength ; several instances 
 of it ; by birth a Thracian ; from being a simple herdsman he rose 
 by the gradations of office, until he became Emperor of Rome ; was 
 above nine feet in height, and the best proportioned man in the 
 empire; was killed by his own soldiers, while sleeping, 151, 152. 
 
 May-bug, or dor-beetle, described, 819. See Beetle. 
 
 Mf-asled-harfs, distinguished from mountain hares, 348. 
 
 Mechanism, which regulates the number of our years, admits no 
 change in its laws, and can be affected only by long fasting, or 
 great excess. 175. 
 
 JHedavro, the brass helmet dug up there fits a common man, yet 
 is allowed to have been left there at the overthrow of Asdrubal, 192. 
 
 Mniia has pastures in its plains excellent for rearing horses, 220. 
 
 Mediterranean si a, always receiving, and never discharging wa- 
 ter, is no way fuller than before ; in what manner some account for 
 this, 77; water-snouts seen in it; description of them by Tournc- 
 f'ort ; salutions ottered for this phenomenon by Mr. Buffon and Dr. 
 Stuart. 114 ; this sea one of the smoothest and most gentle in the 
 world. 7-. 
 
 Medusa, name given by Linna>ns to a small insect, thought tho 
 simple food of the Greenland whale, 618. 
 
 Mi.il/omius has collected some few remains of ancient music, 
 which do not leave room to regret what is lost. 166. 
 
 M< inljrane the nictitating membrane in birds ; vails the eye at 
 pleasure, 450. 
 
 Mendip Mines, in Somersetshire, account of them by Mr. Locke, 23. 
 
 Menstruum, that body which is most fluid and penetrating, in 
 likely to be the menstruum of one less so ; Mariotte's experiment 
 
 OK* 
 
MLS 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 MON 
 
 shows that water will act as a menstruum upon air ; cold di- 
 minishes the force of menstruums, and often promotes evapora- 
 tion, 168. 
 
 Merlin, the smallest of the hawk or falcon-kind ; scarce larger 
 than a thrush; displays a degree of courage rendering him formida- 
 ble to birds far above his size ; kills a partridge or a quail at a sin- 
 gle pounce from above, 483. 
 
 Metals, the richest in their native state, much less glittering and 
 splendid than useless marcasitus ; the basest ores are generally the 
 most beautiral to the eye ; description of one by Mr. Condamine, 
 22; those trades that deal in their preparations, always unwhole- 
 some, 59 ; all pieces swallowed by animals lose part of their weight , 
 and often the extremities of their figure, 463. 
 
 Meteors, between the tropics, and near the poles, assume dread- 
 ful and various appearances. 110; in those countries where the sun 
 exerts the greatest force in raising vapours, there are the greatest 
 quantity ot meteors, ib. ; one of a verv uncommon kind, seen by 
 Ulloa, at Quito, 1 12. 
 
 Method, the principal help in natural history ; without it. little 
 progress made in this scienco ; the most applauded of classing ani- 
 mals ; the author's method of classing them ; that of describing all 
 things by words alone, a fault that has infected most of our diction- 
 aries, and bodies of arts and sciences ; Mr. Locke has observed, 
 that a drawing of an animal taken from life, is the best method of 
 advancing natural history, 19!) to 20:2. 
 
 Mew, said of stags when they cast their heads, 262. 
 Mice, have burrowed in the backs of hugs, while fattening in the 
 sty, without being felt, 281 ; in 1580, at Hallontide, an army of 
 mice over-run the marshes near Southminster, and eat up the grass 
 to the roots ; but soon after they were all devoured by a number of 
 strange-painted owls ; the like happened again in Essex about sixty 
 years afterwards, 491. 
 
 Mica, the least and most beautiful monkey of the sagoin kind, 412. 
 Microscope increases the magnitude of an object, and that of its 
 motion also, 124; the pupil and humours of the eye of the mole dis- 
 covered by it, 371. 
 
 Migrating fishes. See Fishes, 653. 
 
 Migration, causes of migration of birds ; in what manner they per- 
 form them ; at what times ; rather follow the weather than country, 
 and go on as they perceive the atmosphere more suitable to their 
 wants and dispositions ; some birds by migrating make an habita- 
 tion of every part of the earth ; migration of some swallows, and 
 retreat of others into old walls, to avoid the rigour of winter, wrap 
 this subject in great obscurity, 456, 457 ; of bees several signs pre- 
 vious to it, 803. 
 
 Milk, infants have it in their own breasts. 137 ; sometimes found 
 in the breasts of men, as well as in those of women, 147 ; in car- 
 nivorous animals more sparing than in others, 212 ; of goats medi- 
 cinal, and not apt to curdle upon the sttimach as that of the cow, 
 246 ; of the rein-deer thinner than that of the cow, but sweeter 
 and more nourishing. 274 ; boiled up with wood-sorrel, by the Lap- 
 landers, kept in casks under ground, to be eaten in winter, 276 ; in- 
 jected into a vein, kills with more certainty than the venom of a 
 viper, 734. 
 
 Millepedes multiplied by being cut in pieces, 125. 
 Milo, an instance of his strength, when stood upright, 151. 
 Milton makes Satan personate the cormorant, a most nauseous 
 bird, 275. 
 
 Minerals, mere inactive and insensible bodies, 119. 
 Miners first become paralytic, then die consumptive, for the 
 trifling reward of seven-pence a day, 23 ; peculiar contrivance for to 
 supply light for their operations, 24. 
 
 Minis, the deepest that at Cotteberg in Hungary, not more than 
 three thousand feet deep, 15 ; a coal-mine of the North of England said 
 to be eleven hundred yards deep, 22 ; air different in them, pro- 
 portionablv as th<> magazines of fire lay nearer the centre ; other 
 causes of this difference; Mendip lead-mines in Somersetshire; 
 their dfMcription, ib.; mines of coal generally less noxious than 
 th<>se of tin ; tin than those of copper ; but none are so dreadfully 
 destructive as those of quicksilver ; deplorable infirmities of work- 
 in, n .'i llie ininei near the village of Idra, 23 ; metallic, often de- 
 utrovs all vegetal' n by their volatile corrosive fumes ; salt mines 
 naturally cold, '> : natives of countries abounding in mines too 
 often experience the n-ixn..!!' effects of their vicinity, 95 ; in a lead- 
 ruin" in Flintsl'irf wen- f'< U-K' two grinding teeth and part of the 
 tusk of an elepnunt, at forty two .-irds depth. 424. 
 
 JHingrtHu.t s among the sixth variety of the human species, de- 
 cri!ic<!. \1''. 
 
 Mirt-driim, the Viltrnt, described. .'07. See Bittern. 
 
 Mtftlitue. u piiint. thought propagated by seeds voided by birds, 
 
 657. 
 
 Mississippi, a great river in North America ; its source and 
 length, t>3. 
 
 Miflu continually rise upon the approach of the winter months 
 undrr the line, 1111 ; called frost smoke ; raises blisters on the body, 
 in tlie regions round ihe poles. I 13. 
 
 .Mil.t:-Jftij, not found in Lapland, 276. 
 
 Mia in i . a. river in America ; enormous skeletons lately discovered 
 near it. 425. 
 
 Mark-bird, description of the American mock-bird ; its habits ; 
 run assume the tone of every animal in the wood, from the wolf to 
 the raven. .Tin. 
 
 Meck-nau, meteors, and other phenomena, in the northern re- 
 gions, 110. 
 
 .Mococa, first of the maki-kind, which is the last of the monkeys; 
 its description ; a native of Madagascar ; its qualities, 412, 413 ; eats 
 its iiwn tail, 44(1. 
 
 ModeniL, a city in Italy ; its remarkable wells ; other rarities round 
 it, 83. . 
 
 Movld. black, or garden-earth, the first layer on the surface of 
 the globe ; is formed from animal and vegetable bodies decayed ; 
 soil tortile in proportion to the quantity that putrified mould bears 
 to the gravelly mixture ; and as the former predominates, so far is 
 the vegetation upon it more luxuriant, 15. 
 
 Mule, a ruminating insect, or seemingly so. 232 ; no quadruped 
 fatter, none with a more sleek, glossy skin ; an utter stranger in 
 Ireland ; formed to live under the earth ; its description ; the an- 
 cients, and some moderns, of opinion that the rnole was blind, but 
 Derham, by a microscope, discovered all the parts of the eye known 
 in other animals ; a mole let loose in the midst of a field, like a 
 ghost on a theatre, instantly sinks into the earth ; peculiar advan- 
 tage of the smallness of its eyes ; when once buried in the earth, 
 it seldom stirs out ; it chooses the looser softer grounds ; chiefly 
 preys upon worms and insects ; is most active and casts up most 
 earth immediately before rain, and in winter before a thaw ; in dry 
 weather it seldom forms hillocks; readily evades the pursuit of ani- 
 mals stronger and swifter than itself; their greatest calamity is an 
 inundation, which whenever it happens destroys great numbers of 
 them ; description of the mole-hill in which the female has brought 
 forth her young ; is scarcely found, except in cultivated countries ; 
 the varieties are but few; that of Virginia is black, mixed with a 
 deep purple ; that of Poland is white ; Agricola says, he saw hats 
 made of mole-skins, the finest and most beautiful imaginable, 370 
 to 372. 
 
 Molossian breed of dogs, and its perfections, set forth by Neme- 
 sianus, 314. 
 
 Mintlting, annually suffered by birds ; its effects, 453; artificially 
 accelerated, and how ; the manner in which nature performs the 
 operation, ih. ; moulting season, from the end of summer to the 
 middle of autumn, ib. 
 
 Molucca Islands, Ferdinand Magellan slain upon one of them, 
 191. 
 
 Mniin. the cejihus of the ancients, a monkey of the ancient con- 
 tinent, 411. 
 
 Monax, name given to the marmout in Canada, 358. 
 
 Mangoz, one of the maki kind, the last of the monkeys ; its de- 
 scription, 413. 
 
 Monkey, they sometimes fall a prey to the lion in deserts and 
 forests, 2115 ; one general description will not serve for all animals 
 of the monkey kind, 398 ; La Condamine asserts that it would take 
 up a volume to describe the difference of monkeys found along the 
 river of Amazons ; and we are sure that every one of these is dif- 
 ferent from those on the African coast ; there is scarcely a country 
 in the tropical climates that does not swarm with them, and scarcely 
 a forest that is not inhabited by a race distinct from all others ; those 
 of two cantons never found to mix ; of all kinds less than the baboon, 
 have less power of doing mischief, and their ferocity diminishes with 
 their size ; in their native woods, are the pests of other animals, 
 and the masters of the forest where they reside; the tiger, nor the 
 lion, will not venture to dispute dominion with creatures, who from 
 the tops of trees with impunity carry on an offensive war, and by 
 their agility escape all pursuit ; birds have not less to fear from 
 their continual depredations; such being their petulant delight in 
 mischief, that they fling the eggs against the ground when wanting 
 appetite to devour them ; one only animal in the forest ventures to 
 oppose them ; that is the serpent ; large snakes often wind up the 
 trees, where they reside, and happening to surprise them sleeping, 
 swallow them whole, before they can make a defence ; they gene- 
 rally inhabit the tops of trees, and the snakes cling to the branches 
 near the bottom ; in this manner they are near each other, like ene- 
 mies in the same field of battle ; some suppose their vicinity rather 
 argued mutual friendship; Father Labat has seen them playing 
 
MOR 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 MUM 
 
 37 
 
 their gambols upon those branches on which the snakes were re- 
 posing, and jumping over them without receiving any injury; they 
 provoke the snake us the sparrov. s twitter at a cat ; when attacked, 
 they show perfect skill in defending ami assisting each other, 40(i, 
 407 ; they regularly begin hostilities against those who enter their 
 woods ; one being wounded, the rest come round, put their fingers 
 into the wound, as desirous of sounding its depth ; the blood flow- 
 ing in any quantity, some stop it, while others get leaves, chew, 
 and thrust them into the opening ; are often killed in numbers be- 
 fore they make a retreat ; in this retreat the young are clinging to 
 the b.ick of the female, who jumps away, seemingly unembarrassed 
 bv thu burden ; usual way of taking them alive ; skinned and served 
 up at negro feasts, so like a child, an European is shocked at the 
 sight ; the negroes seeing Europeans buy young and tame monkeys, 
 with equal cure brought rats to the factors for sale, ami were greatly 
 disappointed at finding no purchaser; they carry oft' what they are 
 able, and destroy ten times more ; manner of their plundering ; are 
 under a kind of discipline, exercised among themselves ; accounts 
 to tins purpose by Margrave ; one species, by Mr. Button, called 
 the ouarine, remarkable for loudness and distinctness of voice; 
 use to which they convert it ; are generally together in companies, 
 march in exact order, and obey the voice of some chieftain, re- 
 markable for his size and gravity ; chief food of the tribe ; extra- 
 ordinary manner of managing an oyster ; manner of drawing crabs 
 from the water ; no snare, however nicely baited, takes a monkey 
 of the West Indian islands ; females bring forth one, and some- 
 times two at a tiiiie ; rarely breed when brought into Europe ; the 
 male and female never tire of fondling their young, and instructing 
 it with no little assiduity ; often severely correct it, if stubborn, or 
 disinclined to profit by their example, 408, 409 ; manner of carry- 
 ing their young in the woods ; dexterity in passing from one tree 
 to another, by forming a kind of chain, locking tail to tail, or 
 hand in hand ; one amused itself for hours imposing upon the gra- 
 vity of a cat, and playing its pranks among rabbits; faithful ser- 
 vices which Father Carli received from the monkeys in Angola, 
 where he went to convert the savage natives to Christianity ; 
 savages of Africa and America suppose monkeys to be men, idle, 
 slothful, rational beingjs, capable of speech and conversation, but 
 obstinately dumb, for tear of being compelled to labour ; monkeys 
 of Africa most expert and entertaining ; show a greater degree of 
 cunning and activity ; three marks by which monkeys of the new 
 continent are distinguished from those of the old ; Mr. Buffon 
 makes but nine species of monkeys belong to the ancient continent, 
 and eleven to the new; their names, with their descriptions; the 
 red Jifr'rcan, the jidtus, second sort of the ancient continent ; the 
 trlriti ntjse, or moustoc, of the ancient continent, most beautiful ; 
 its description ; the (rreen of St. Jago, also called caittitrif, is of 
 the ancient continent ; its description ; some of the kinds eat 
 their own tail, and seem to feel no pain ; the Bramins have hospi- 
 tals for those that happen to be sick or disabled ; those monkeys of 
 the new continent, with muscular holding tails, are called sapajous, 
 and those with feeble useless tails, are called sagoins; the fox-tail- 
 ed monkev ; tnakits, the lastof the kind; their description, 410 to 413. 
 
 Munkey-bczoar, a factitious concrete, 252. Sec Brzoar. 
 
 Atonot'ulits, the arborescent water-flea; its description; are of a 
 blood-red colour ; and sometimes in such multitudes on standing 
 waters, as to make them appear all over red, whence the water has 
 been thought turned into blood, 768. 
 
 MenffO^HS, so called from a famous Pilot of that name, who first 
 used them in navigation with success ; in that part of the ocean 
 between Africa and India those of the east winds begin in 
 January, and end at the commencement of June ; in August, or 
 September, the contrary takes place ; and the west winds blow 
 for three or four months ; these winds are always subject to their 
 grpufiist variations as they approach the land, so that on one side 
 of the great peninsula of India the coasts are for near half the 
 year harassed by violent hurricanes, while on the opposite side 
 theso dreadful tempests are wholly unknown, 102; monsoons pre- 
 vail at different seasons throughout the Indies, ib. 
 
 Mnx!*ri<. after a e-ii.'l,<;rue of them. Liana-Mis particularly adds 
 the lender wtists of the women of Europe. Hri. 
 
 .to^/w.' romt jtrodtictidns. Father Mnlbrauche's ingenious theory 
 of; remarkable instance rei:<,teci b\ r him, Irt7. 
 
 Mnusc-dtir, nii:, i in America for the elk. 270; its description, 
 271. 
 
 Miirmijrus, description of this fish, <>.">!. 
 
 .Wjro'T'o, the original horses there, much smaller than the Ara- 
 bian breed, 2l!!. 
 
 M 'rvi. a kind of salamander, thought venomous. 717. 
 
 .U- 3f. an animal of ;:ie seal-kind, mi^ht be n-nked among the 
 fishes, 216 ; generally frequents the same place where seals reside 
 
 in; different fi-im 'ho rest in a very particular formation of the 
 teeth; rescmhlt ., ,* se;il. < \eej>t that it is much larger ; are rarely 
 found but in the frozen regie MIS near the pole ; the Greenlanders, 
 who formerly had great plenty, and who made them their principal 
 food, now find them very scarce, and are obliged to toil more 
 assiduously for a subsistence ; its teeth generally trom two to three 
 feet long ; the ivory more esteemed than that of the elephant ; the 
 fishers have formerly killed three or four hundred morses at once ; 
 their bones are still lying in prodigious quantities along those 
 shores they chiefly frequented, 395, H:M>. 
 
 Moschelots, excessive torments caused by them, 43. 
 
 Muss, the only support of the rein-deer in Lapland ; of two sorts, 
 
 Mother-of-pearl, taken from the pearl oyster, G91. 
 Moths, difference from butterflies, 7!)3. 
 
 Mutiuit keeps the water of the sea sweet, 73; destroys numbers 
 of viler creatures, ib.; constant motion of the waters of the sea 
 
 worm kind move, tsKI. 
 
 MouJ/lon, the, sheep in a savage state, a bold fleet creature, able 
 to escape from greater animals, or oppose the smaller ; its descrip- 
 tion, 242. 
 
 Mountains, rising from places once level, 10 ; give direction to 
 the course of the air, 195 ; how formed and for what designed ; 
 upon our globe considered as angles of small lines in the circum- 
 ference of a circle, 40, 41; countries most mountainous, are most 
 barren and uninhabitable, 43 ; some valleys are fertilized by earth 
 washed down from great heights, 47; the more extensive the 
 mountain, the greater the river, 42; tops of the highest mountains 
 bare and pointed, and why. 45 ; tops of land-mountains appear 
 barren and rocky, of sea-mountains verdant and fruitful, 85 ; the 
 highest in Africa, those called of the moon, giving source to the 
 Niger and Nile in Africa ; the greatest and highest under the line ; 
 some rise three miles perpendicular above the bottom of the 
 ocean, 42, 43 ; highest in Asia ; Mount Caucasus makes near 
 approaches to the Andes in South America, 45 ; burning moun- 
 tains in Europe, 26 ; in Asia ; in the Molucca Islands ; in Africa ; 
 in America ; those of the Andes ; those of Arequipa, Carasso, 
 Malahallo, and Cotopaxi, 29 ; description of the latter by Ulloa, 
 and an eruption of it, ib. 
 
 Mouse, the most feeble and most timid of all quadrupeds, except 
 the Guinea-pig ; never leaves its hole but to seek provision ; never 
 rendered quite familiar ; though fed in a cage retains its apprehen- 
 sions ; no animal has more enemies, and few so incapable of resist- 
 ance ; the owl, cat, snake, hawk, weasel, and rat, destroy them 
 by millions ; brings forth at all seasons ; and several times in the 
 year ; its usual number from six to ten ; these in a fortnight strong 
 enough to shift for themselves ; places where chiefly found ; Aris- 
 totle, having put a mouse with young into a vessel of corn, some 
 time after found a hundred and twenty sprung from that original ; 
 its life lasts two or three years ; the species found in all parts of 
 the ancient continent, and has been exported to the new ; although 
 enemies to man, are never found but near those places where he 
 has fixed his habitation ; Gesner minutely describes the variety 
 of mouse-traps ; long-tailed field-mouse ; short-tailed field-mouse ; 
 has a store against winter, a bushel at a time ; a description of the 
 shrew-mouse, 3b'5. 366. 
 
 Moustoc, or White-nose, monkey of the ancient continent, de- 
 scription, 411. 
 
 Mouth of hares lined with hair ; the only animals that have it on 
 the inside, 347 ; the snails of the trochus kind have none, 685. 
 
 Mucous /ii/uiir. giving the joints an easy and ready play, 149. 
 
 Mu^ii, the mullet, description of this fish, 649. 
 
 Mule, reputed barren, though Aristotle says it is sometimes 
 prolific, 223 ; engendered between a horse and a she-uss, or a jack- 
 ass and a mare ; inhabitants of mountainous countries cannot do 
 without them ; how they go down the precipices of the Alps 
 and Andes ; a fine mule in Spain worth fifty or sixty guineas ; 
 common mule very healthy ; lives thirty years and more, 226; in 
 S.iutli America destroyed by a bat c;iiled vampyre, 3b6. 
 
 JMuluf or sur mulct, a description of this fish, -421. 
 
 .Wii/tictiive shells, third division of shells by Aristotle, fi79 ; two 
 principal kinds of multivuive sludl-fish, moving and stationary, 693. 
 
 Mummy, formerly a considerable article in medicine; ParsRus 
 wrote a teatise on the ineflicacy of mummy in physic ; counter- 
 feited by the Jews, and how ; the method of seeking for mum- 
 mies ; found in the sands of Arabia, in Egypt, in wooden coffins, 
 or in cloths covered with bitumen, 196 ; remarkable munmiv dug 
 up at Auvergne, in France, 197; an injection of petreuleum in- 
 
38 
 
 NAR 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 NIL 
 
 wardly, and a layer of asphaltura without, suffice to make a mum- 
 my, 198. 
 
 Murtena, the eel, its description, 649. 
 
 Murena of the ancients, not our lamprey, 637. 
 
 Muralto. See Lam/trey, 638. 
 
 Muscardin, name of the lesser dormouse, by Mr. Buffon, 36G. 
 
 Muscles, if we compare the largeness and thickness of our mus- 
 cles with those of any other animal, we shall find that we have 
 the advantage ; to judge of the strength of animals by the thick- 
 ness of their muscles, inconclusive, 152; those of the hare are 
 strong and without fat, 345 ; the pectoral muscles of quadrupeds 
 trifling in comparison to those of birds ; in quadrupeds, as in man, 
 the muscles moving the thighs and hinder parts are strongest, 
 while those of the arms are feeble ; in birds the contrary obtains, 
 450 ; those of the shark preserve their motion after being separat- 
 ed from the body, 631. 
 
 Mussel, the shell-fish, its description ; its organs of generation 
 are what most deserve to excite our curiosity ; the crab, and the 
 cray-fish, are seen to devour them, but the trochus is their most 
 formidable enemy; it endeavours to become stationary, and to 
 attacli itself to any fixed object it happens to be near ; its ene- 
 mies ; it is supposed that those threads, which are usually called 
 the beard of the mussel, are the natural growth of the animal's 
 body, and by no means produced at pleasure, as Reaumur sup- 
 poses ; its instrument of motion, by which it contrives to reach 
 the object it wants to bind itself to ; its food ; some of this kind 
 have been found a foot long ; the natives of Palermo sometimes 
 make gloves and stockings of its beards ; the places where found , 
 it requires a year for the peopling a mussel bed, 087, 088. 
 
 Muscovy duck, or mast duck, so called from a supposed musky 
 smell, 598. 
 
 Music, said by the ancients to have been invented from the 
 blows of different hammers on an anvil ; in all countries, where 
 music is in its infancy, the half tones are rejected ; the Chinese 
 have neither flats nor sharps in their music ; many barbarous 
 nations have their instruments of music ; and the proportion 
 between their notes is the same as in ours ; all countries pleased 
 with music, and where they have no skill to produce harmony, 
 they substitute noise ; its effects ; the ancients give us many 
 strange instances of them upon men and animals ; and the mo- 
 derns likewise ; madness cured by it ; and also excited by it ; re- 
 makable instance in Henry IV. of Denmark ; fishes are allured by 
 music; horses and cows likewise, 164, 105 ; the elephant appears 
 delighted with music, 418 ; Father Kircher has set the voices of 
 birds to music, 490. 
 
 Musk, among the numerous medicines procurable from quadrupeds, 
 none, except the musk and hartshorn, have preserved a degree of 
 reputation, 250 ; a doubt whether the animal producing it be a hog, 
 an ox, a aoat, or a deer ; no animal so justly the reproach of natu- 
 ral historians as that which bears the musk ; it has been various!}' 
 described, and is known very imperfectly ; the description given by 
 Grew ; formerly in high request as a perfume ; has for more than 
 a century been imported from the East ; is a dusky reddish sub- 
 stance, like coagulated blood ; a grain of it perfumes a whole room ; 
 its odour continues for days, without diminution, and no substance 
 known has a stronger or more permanent smell ; in larger quanti- 
 ties it continues for years, and scarce wasted in weight, although it 
 has filled the atmosphere to a great distance with its parts ; the 
 most powerful remedy now in use, in nervous and hysteric disorders ; 
 the bags of musk from abroad supposed to belong to some other 
 animal, or taken from some part of the same, filled with its blood, 
 and enough of the perfume to impregnate the rest; it conies from 
 China, Tonquin, Bengal, and often from Muscovy ; that of Thibet 
 reckoned the best, and of Muscovy the worst, 255, 2ot>. 
 
 Musk-rat, three distinctions of it, 307. 
 
 Musky-smell docs not properly make the characteristic marks of 
 any kind of animals, 240. 
 
 Musmon or mcufflon, resembles a ram ; its description. 244. 
 
 Myoides, a broad thin skin, covering the whole upper fore-part of 
 the body, its effect in women with child, 147. 
 
 N. 
 
 Wails, how formed in man; those of some of the learned men in 
 China longer than their fingers ; savages that let them grow long, 
 use them in flaying animals, 147, 148. 
 
 Nanquin, a river in Asia, receives thirty rivers, 64. 
 
 Narwhal, the sea unicorn ; its description ; errors concerning the 
 teeth of this animal ; the most harmless and peaceful inhabitant of 
 the ocean ; the Greenlanders call it the fore-runner of the whale, 
 
 and why : its food : is a gregarious animal ; a cenfury acrn, its teeth 
 considered Hie greatest rarity in the world ; they far surpass ivory 
 in its qualities, 621, 622. 
 
 Niitotian Goat, a remarkable variety in the goat kind. 246. 
 
 Nature, lavish of life in the lower orders of the creation, 132 ; has 
 brought man into life with more wants and infirmities than the 
 rest of her creatures, 153; in a course of ages shapes herself to 
 constraint, and assumes hereditary deformity ; instances of it, 185 ; 
 has contracted the stomachs of animals of the forest, suitable to 
 tlieir precarious way of living, 153 ; has left no part of her fabric 
 destitute of inhabitants, 448 ; what might have led some late philoso- 
 phers into the opinion that all nature was animated. 839. 
 
 Nautilus, a sea-snail, most frequently seen swimming ; its shell 
 very thin, and easily pierced ; its description, 086. 
 
 Nazareth bird, whether the dodo or not is uncertain, 470. 
 
 Neck, fishes and other animals that want lungs have none : 
 birds, in general, have it longer than any other kind of animals, 148 ; 
 in women it is prciportionably longer than in men, ib. 
 
 Nectartum, that part of a flower from which the honey is ex- 
 tracted, 803. 
 
 Negroes of the Leeward Islands, by the smell alone distinguish 
 the footsteps of a Frenchman from those of a Negro, 169 ; several 
 of them have white beards and black hair ; described ; their fea- 
 tures not deformed by art ; they are in general found to be stupid, 
 indolent, and mischievous ; tho women's breasts, after bearing one 
 child, hang down below the navel, and are thrown over the shoul- 
 ders to suckle the child at their backs, 181, 182 ; the jet black claim 
 the honour of hereditary resemblance to our common parent; an 
 argument sufficient to prove the contrary ; two white Negroes the 
 issue of black parents, 185, 180; show their terror and surprise 
 when they first see a horse, 21 5; of the African coasts regard the 
 bat with horror, and will not eat it though ready to starve, 385 ; 
 happy to see numbers of monkeys destroyed, because they dread 
 their devastations, and love their flesh ; cannot comprehend advan- 
 tages arising to Kuropeans from educating or keeping monkeys ; 
 and having seen young and tame monkeys bought, have offered 
 rats for pale to our factors, and been greatly disappointed at finding 
 no purchaser, 408 ; tlieir manner of killing the shark ; are distract- 
 edly fond of its flesh, 631, 032. 
 
 Negrolmd, or Nigritia, the plague not known in it, 96. 
 
 Nerves, wherever they go, or send their branches in number, 
 these parts are soonest begun, and must completely finished, 159. 
 
 Ness, or Nttke. a river near Bruges, in Flanders ; great quanti- 
 ties of trees found in its mouth, at the depth of fifty feet ; in such 
 perfect preservation, that the particular kind of each tree may be 
 instantly known, 82. 
 
 Nest of every species of birds has a peculiar architecture ; Where 
 eggs are numerous, the nest must be warm, 454 ; different places 
 which birds choose for their nests, 435 ; description of the nest of an 
 eagle found in the Peak of Derby shire, 475 ; of the bald eagle, large 
 enough to fill the body of a cart, 476; hanging nests in Brazil, 16o; 
 nests in the Philippine islands ; made in such a manner, as to have 
 no opening but at the bottom, 520 ; the Chinese get those of the 
 swallows from the rocks, and sell them in great numbers in the East 
 Indies, where they are esteemed great delicacies, and eat dissolved 
 in chicken or mutton broth, 447 ; that of the wasp one of the most 
 curious objects in natural history ; its description, 409, 410. 
 
 Netherlands, their inhabitants greatly improved us in the woollen 
 manufacture, 243. 
 
 Nettles, how used to teach capons to clutch a fresh brood of 
 chickens throughout the year, 49o. 
 
 Nettles of the sea. name given by some to the star-fish, 832. 
 
 Nicota Pesce, a celebrated diver ; his performances related by 
 Kircher ; he often swam over from Sicily into Calabria, carrying 
 letters from the king ; frequently known to spend five days in the 
 midst of the waves, dO. 
 
 Nieper, or Boristhr.ncs, a river rising in the middle of Muscovy, 
 and running three hundred and fifty leagues to empty itself in the 
 Black Sea. 61. 
 
 Niger, this river has a course of several hundred miles from its 
 source, at the Mountains of the Moon, 42 ; confidently asserted that 
 it is lost before it reaches the ocean, 66. 
 
 Nightingale, a bird of the sparrow kind, 538 ; description of its 
 melody by Pliny ; its residence ; for weeks together undisturbed, it 
 sits upon the same tree ; its nest and eggs ; its song in captivity 
 not so alluring ; Gesner says it is possessed of a faculty of talking; 
 story related by him in proof of this assertion ; its food, and in what 
 manner they must be kept ; manner of catching the nightingale, 
 and of managing when caught, 540 to 544. 
 
 Nile, its course ; its sources ascertained by missionaries ; takes its 
 rise in the kingdom of Gojani ; receives many lesser rivers ; PJiny 
 
OPP 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 OTT 
 
 39 
 
 mistaken, in savin;; that it received none; the pause of its annual 
 overflowings ; time of their increase and decrease more inconsider- 
 able now than in the time of the ancients, 02, lili. 
 
 Abi'sr, the mind predisposed to joy, noise fails not to increase it 
 into rapture ; and those nations which have not skill enough to pro- 
 duce harmony, readily substitute noise; loud and unexpected dis- 
 turbs the whole frame, and why, 165. 
 
 JYuse, that of the Grecian Venus, sucli as would appear at present 
 an actual deformity, 140 ; the form of the nose, and its advanced ! 
 position, peculiar to the human visage ; among the tribe of savage I 
 men, the nose is very flat ; a Tartar seen in Europe with little more i 
 than two holes through which to breathe, 1-J't ; whence originally 
 may have come the flat noses of the blacks, 1S5. 
 
 Jfottrilf, wide, add a great deal to the bold and resolute air of the 
 countenance ; narrow ones, though supposed to constitute beauty, 
 seldom improves expression, 143 ; of the coriaceous tribe, 614 ; two 
 in the great Greenland whale, 017. 
 
 .\'iiliiiii:c-ln. the common water-fly ; swims on its back, to feed on 
 the under side of plants growing in water. 779. 
 
 Nti.mid inn bird, or Guinea-lien, described, 503. 
 
 J\'umuliiin crane ; its peculiar gestures and contortions, 559. 
 
 Nut vomiea, ground and mixed with meal, supposed to be the most 
 certain poison, and least dangerous, to kill rats, 3(i5 ; fatal to most 
 animals, except man, 497. 
 
 .Vyl-ghaip, an animal between the cow and the deer, native of In- 
 dia ; its description ; dispositions and manners of one brought over 
 to this country ; its manner of righting ; at all our settlements in 
 India, considered as a rarity ; esteemed good and delicious food, 
 435. 
 
 O. 
 
 Oaks, of ITatfield Chase Levels, as black as ebony, very lasting, 
 and close grained, sold for fifteen pounds a-piece, 83. 
 
 Objects. See Eye. 
 
 Ohy, in Tartary a river of five hundred leagues, running from I 
 the lake of Kila, into the Northern Sea, 02 ; receives about sixty 
 rivers, 04. 
 
 Oce.dii, occupies considerably more of the globe than the land ; 
 its different names ; all the rivers in the world flowing into it, 
 would, upon a rude computation, take eight hundred years to fill it 
 to its present height, b'7 ; savages consider it as an angry deity, 
 and pay it the homage of submission ; the bays, gulfs, currents, 
 and shallows of it, much better known and examined than the pro- 
 vinces and kingdoms of the earth, and why ; when England loses 
 its superiority there, its safety begins to be precarious, 68 ; opinions 
 concerning its saltness, and that of Boyle particularly, 69 ; winds 
 never change between the tropics in the Atlantic and Ethiopic 
 Oceans, nor in the great Pacific sea, 100 ; each has its insects and 
 vegetables. 120. 
 
 Ocelot, or catamountain, its description, 304 ; of the panther 
 kind; one of the fiercest, and, for its size, one of the most destruc- 
 tive animals in the world ; no arts can tame or soften their man- 
 ners, 305. 
 
 Ocotzimt-can, a kind of pigeon, one of the most splendid tenants 
 of the Mexican forests, 532. 
 
 Ohin, several enormous skeletons, five or six feet beneath the 
 surface on the banks of that river, lately discovered. 425. 
 
 Oil, the oil of that fish called cachalot is very easily converted 
 in*, i spermaceti, 623 ; the porpoise yields a large quantity of it, 
 62(5; by the application of olive oil, the viper's bite is effectually 
 cured. 73G. 
 
 Olifc colour, the Asiatic, of that colour, claims the honour of j 
 the hereditary resemblance to our common parent, 185. 
 
 Olire.r, (William) the first who discovered that the application 
 of olive oil, cured the viper's bite effectually, 730. 
 
 Onager, or the wild ass, is in still greater abundance than even : 
 the wild horse, 223. 
 
 Ondatra, one of the three distinctions of the musk-rat ; a na- j 
 tive of Canada; can contract and enlarge its body at pleasure; I 
 ureeps into holes where others seemingly less cannot follow ; i 
 the- female has two distinct apertures, one for urine, the other for 
 propagation ; this animal, in some measure, resembles the beaver; | 
 ;'-: manner of life during winter, in houses covered under a depth j 
 of eight or ten feet of snow ; savages of Canada cannot abide its 
 scent ; call it stinkr.rd ; its skin very valuable, 307, 368. 
 
 Onza, or ounce, of the panther kind ; the onza of Linnreus, 303. 
 
 O/ili 'ilium, the giltheud, by sailors called the dolphin, its descrip- 
 tion, 048. 
 
 Of possum, the female's belly found double ; when pursued, she 
 
 instantly takes her younff into a false belly nature has given her, 
 and carries them off. or dies in the endeavour, 212 ; an animal in 
 North and South America, of the size of a small cat, and of the 
 monkey kind ; its description, 413 ; a minute description of its 
 bag ; the young when first produced arc very small, and immedi- 
 ately on quitting the real womb they creep into the false one, but 
 the time of continuing there is uncertain ; Ulloa has found five 
 voung hidden in the belly of the dam, alive and clinging to tho 
 teat three days after she was dead ; chiefly subsists upon birds, 
 and hides among the leaves of trees to seize them by surprise ; 
 cannot run with anv swiftness, but climbs trees with great ease 
 and expedition ; it often hangs by the tail, and for hours together 
 with the head downwards, keeps watching for its prey ; by means 
 of its tail, flings itself from one tree to another, hunts insects, and 
 escapes its pursuers ; cats vegetable as well as animal substances ; 
 is easily tamed, but a disagreeable domestic, from its stupidity, 
 figure, and scent, which, though fragrant in small qantities, is un- 
 grateful when copious ; during its gestation, the bag in which the 
 young arc concealed may be opened and examined without inconve- 
 nience ; the young may be counted and handled ; they keep fixed tr, 
 the teat, and cling as firm as if they made a part of the body of 
 the mother, 414, 415. 
 
 Orb, description of the sea-orb, also called the sea-porcupine ; is 
 absolutely poisonous if eaten, 644. 
 
 Ore of tin is heavier than that of other metals, 22. 
 
 Organs of digestion in a manner reversed in birds, 452. 
 
 Organs of generation in fishes, 612. 
 
 Orifices, or different verges in snails, G85. 
 
 Orkney Islands, on their shores, the sea, when agitated by 
 storms, rises two hundred feet perpendicular, 80. 
 
 Oroonuka, a river in South America, its source and length, 63. 
 
 Ortolan, a bird of the sparrow kind, 537. 
 
 Os/irey, its flesh liked by many, and, when young, an excellent 
 food, according to Belonius, 472. 
 
 Ostiac Tartars, a race that have travelled down from tho north, 
 179. 
 
 Ostracion, a fish of the cartilaginous kind ; is poisonous, 644. 
 
 Ostrich, manner in which the Arabians hunt them, 216, and 
 465 ; an Arabian horse of the first speed scarcely outruns them, 
 216; its flesh proscribed in Scripture as unfit to be eaten; the 
 greatest of birds ; makes near approaches to the quadruped class ; 
 its description ; appears as tall as a man on horseback ; one brought 
 into England above seven feet high ; surprising conformation ofits 
 internal parts ; a native only of the torrid regions of Africa ; not 
 known to breed elsewhere than where first produced ; places they 
 inhabit ; the Arabians say it never drinks ; are seen in large flocks, 
 which to the distant spectator appear like a regiment of cavalry, 
 and have often alarmed a whole caravan ; will devour leather, 
 glass, hair, iron, stones, or any thing given ; in native deserts, 
 leads an inoffensive social life ; Theveuot affirms the male keeps 
 to the female with connubial fidelity ; thought much inclined to 
 venery ; some of their eggs above five inches in diameter, and 
 weigh fifteen pounds ; lay from forty to fifty eggs at one clutch ; 
 none has a stronger affection for her young ; assiduous in supply- 
 ing the young with grass, and careful to defend them, encounter- 
 ing every danger boldly ; way of taking them among the ancients i 
 the plumes used in their helmets ; feathers plucked from the 
 animal while alive more valued than those taken when dead ; some 
 savage nations of Africa hunt them for their flesh ; the young fe- 
 male said to be the greatest delicacy of the natives of Africa ; a 
 single egg sufficient entertainment for eight men ; eggs well 
 tasted, and extremely nourishing; of all chases, that of the ostrich, 
 though most laborious, the most entertaining ; use they make of 
 its skin ; its blood mixed with the fat a great dainty with the Ara- 
 bians ; inhabitants of Dara and Lybia breed flocks of them ; 
 tamed with little trouble ; prized for more than feathers in their 
 domestic state ; often ridden upon and used as horses ; Moore 
 assures us he saw a man at Joar travelling upon an ostrich ; and 
 Adanson asserts that he had two young ostriches, the strongest of 
 which ran swifter than the best English racer, with two Negroes 
 on his back ; of all animals using wings with legs in running, these 
 are by far the swiftest ; the American ostrich, 4C2 to 466. 
 
 Oltar of roses, a modern perfume, valued for its vegetable fra- 
 grance, 342. 
 
 Oiler, the link between land and amphibious animals, resembles 
 terrestrial in make, and aquatic in living; swims faster than it runs ; 
 is brown, and like an overgrown weasel; differs in no respect from 
 the weasel kind, except in having the feet webbed, and in living 
 almost constantly in the water ; its description ; voracious animal, 
 found near lakes ; not fond of fishing in running water, and why ; 
 when in rivers, always swims against the stream, to meet rather 
 
40 
 
 OWL 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 PAR 
 
 than pursue the fish it preys upon ; in lakes, destroys more than it 
 devours, and spoils a pond in a few nights ; tears to pieces the nets 
 of the fishers ; two different methods of fishing practised by it ; in- 
 fects the edges of lakes with the dead fish it leaves ; often distressed 
 for provisions in winter, when lakes are frozen, and then obliged to 
 live upon grass, weeds, and bark of trees ; its retreat the hollow of 
 a bank made by the water ; there it forms a gallery several yards 
 along the water ; description of its habitation ; way of training it 
 up to hunt fish, and, at the word of command, drive them up to~the 
 corner of a pond, seize the largest, and bring it in its mouth to its 
 master ; marks of its residence ; bites with great fierceness, and 
 never lets go its hold ; brings forth its young under hollow banks 
 upon beds of rushes, flags, or weeds ; manner of taking the young 
 alive ; how fed when taken ; some dogs trained up to discover its 
 retreat ; otters met with in most parts of the world ; in North 
 America and Carolina found white, inclining to yellow ; description 
 of the Brasilian otter, 380 to 389. 
 
 Ovaria, two glandular bodies near the womb, resembling the 
 cluster of small eggs found in fowls, 123. 
 
 Ouarine, species of the monkeys so called by Mr. Buffon, remark- 
 able for the loudness of their voice, and the use to which they apply 
 it, 409, 410. 
 
 Oviparous animals, distinguished from the viviparous, the two 
 classes for generation ; all other modes held imaginary and errone- 
 ous, 125. 
 
 Oa.ran.g-ou.tang, the wild man of the wood, an animal nearly ap- 
 proaching the human race ; is the foremost of the ape kind ; this 
 name given to various animals walking upright, but of different 
 countries, proportions, and powers ; the troglodyte of Bontius, the 
 drill of Purchas, and the pigmy of Tyson, have received this gene- 
 ral name ; its description in a comparative view with man ; gigan- 
 tic races of it described by travellers truly formidable ; in the 
 gloomy forests where only found, they hold undisputed dominion ; 
 many are taller than man, active, strong, intrepid, cunning, lasci- 
 vious, and cruel ; countries where found ; in Borneo, the quality 
 course him as we do the stag, and this hunting is a favourite 
 amusement of the king ; runs with great celerity ; its description ; 
 Battel calls him pongo ; assures us that in all he resembles man, 
 but is larger to a gigantic state ; a native of the tropical climates ; 
 he lives upon fruits, and is not carnivorous ; gnes in companies, and 
 this troop meeting one of the human species without succour, show 
 him no mercy; they jointly attack the elephant, beat him with 
 clubs, and force him to leave that part of the forest they claim as 
 their own ; is so strong that ten men are not a match for him ; 
 none of the kind taken but very young ; one of them dying, the 
 rest cover the body with leaves and branches ; a Negro boy taken 
 by one of these, and carried into tlv.' woods, continued there a whole 
 year without any injury ; they often attempt the female Negroes 
 going into the woods, and keep them against their wills for their 
 company, feeding them plentifully all the time ; a traveller as- 
 sures that he knew a woman of Loango that lived among them for 
 three years; they build sheds, and use clubs for their defence; 
 sometimes walk upright, and sometimes upon all-fours, when fan- 
 tastically disposed ; though it resembles man in form, and imitates 
 his actions, it is inferior in sagacity even to the elephant or the 
 beaver; two of these creatures brought to Europe discovered an as- 
 tonishing power of imitation, sat at table like men, ate of every 
 thing without distinction, made use of knife, fork, and spoon, drank 
 wine and other liquors ; the male of these two creatures being sea- 
 sick, was twice bled in the arm, and afterwards, when out of order, 
 he showed his arm, as desirous of relief by bleeding; another was 
 surprisingly well behaved, drank wine moderately, and gladly left 
 it for milk, or other sweet liquors: it had a defluxion upon the 
 breast, which increasing caused its death in the space of one year 
 from its arrival ; these animals: naturally run on all-four, 31)9 to 403. 
 
 Ounce, or onza, remarkable for being easily tamed, and employed 
 all over the East for the purposes of hunting, 304 ; distinguished 
 from the panther, the ounce of LinnicuR, 303 ; does not pursue by 
 the smell like those of the dog kind ; a natural enemy to the 
 dog, 305. 
 
 Old, description of the common horned owl ; the screech-owl, 
 and its distinctive marks, 473 ; common mark by which all birds of 
 this kind are distinguished from others ; general characteristics of 
 birds of the owl kind ; though dazzled by a bright day-light, they 
 do not see best in darkest nights, as imagined ; moonlight nights 
 are the times of their most successful plunder ; seeing in the night, 
 or being dazzled by day, not alike in every species of this kind ; 
 description of the great horned owl ; names of several owls with- 
 out horns ; these horns nothing more than two or three feathers 
 that stand up on each side over the ear ; father Kircher, having 
 set the voices of birds to music, has given all the tones of the owl- 
 
 note, which make a most tremendous melody ; sometimes bewfl 
 dered ; what they do in that distress; aversion of the small bitds to 
 the owl ; how they injure and torment him in the day-time ; sport 
 of bird-catchers by counterfeiting the cry of the owl ; in what 
 manner the great horned owl is used by falconers to lure the kite, 
 when wanted for training the falcon; places where the great 
 horned owl breeds ; its nest, and number of eggs ; the lesser owl 
 takes by force the nest of some other bird ; number of eggs ; the 
 other owls build near the place where they chierly prey ; a single 
 owl more serviceable than six cats, in ridding a barn of mice ; an 
 army of mice devoured at Hallontide by a number of strange paint- 
 ed owls ; are shy of man, extremely untractable, and difficult to 
 tame ; the white owl in captivity refuses all nourishment, and dies 
 of hunger ; account of Mr. Buffon to this purpose, 488 to 491. 
 
 Of, its eyes are brown, 142 ; on the fertile plains of India it 
 grows to a size four times as large as the same kind bred on the 
 Alps, 185. 
 
 Orni-f/, an island near Bomney Marsh, in what manner pro- 
 duoed, 81. 
 
 Oysters, a horse known to be fond of oysters, 209 ; surprising 
 manner in which monkeys manage an oyster, 409 ; bivalved shell- 
 fish are self-impregnated ; they are deposited in beds where the tide 
 comes in, at Colchester, and other places of the kingdom ; these 
 said to be better tasted ; amazing size of oysters along the coasts 
 of Coromandel, (189. 690; the -pearl oyster has a large whitish shell, 
 the internal coat of which is the mother-of-pearl, 691. 
 
 P. 
 
 Paca, improperly called American rabbit, an animal of South 
 America ; its cry, and manner of eating ; is most like the agonti, 
 yet differs in several particulars ; its description ; places where 
 generally found ; a very fat animal ; its flesh considered as a deli- 
 cacy, and often eaten, skin and all, like a young pig; is seldom 
 taken alive, defending itself to the last extremity ; persecuted not 
 only by man, but by every beast and bird of prey ; breeds in such 
 numbers, the diminution is not perceptible, 359. 3GO. 
 
 Parlivmor. deserts, where the formidable bird condor is chiefly 
 seen, men seldom venture to travel, 478. 
 
 Parifir, sea, the winds never change in it, 100. 
 
 Pai-oes, a kind of camel in South America; its woof very valua- 
 ble, 434. 
 
 I'<iddoc/i-mo<rn, the silence of frogs in dry weather, may serve to 
 explain an opinion which some entertain, that there is a month in 
 the year so called, in which they never croak, 701. 
 
 Pain, nothing but repeated experience shows how seldom pain 
 can be suffered to the utmost, 177. 
 
 Paleness, often effect of anger, 144. 
 
 Ptilm-tree., the elephant eats the shoots and branch to the 
 stump, 418. 
 
 Pambamarra, mountains at Quito in Peru ; a very uncommon 
 meteor seen upon it by Ulloa, 112. 
 
 Pangolin, vulgarly the scaly lizard, is a native of the torrid cli- 
 mates of the ancient continent ; of all animals the best protected 
 from external injury ; its description ; at the approach of an ene- 
 my, it rolls itself up like the hedge-hog ; its scales so hard, when 
 the animal has acquired ils full growth, as to turn a musket-ball ; 
 the tiger, panther, and hyfvna. make vain attempts to force this 
 animal, when it rolls itself up like the hedge-hog ; its flesh is con- 
 sidered by the Negroes of Africa as a great delicacy ; it has no 
 teeth ; lives entirely upon insects ; there is not a more harmless 
 inoffensive creature than this, unmolested ; countries where found, 
 378, 379. 
 
 Panther, the foremost of the mischievous spotted kind, by many 
 naturalists mistaken for the tiger; the panther of Senegal; the 
 large panther ; difference between these two ; that of America, or 
 jaguar, compared with the two former, 302, 303 ; sometimes em- 
 ployed in hunting ; the gazelle or leveret are its prey ; it some- 
 times attacks its employer, 305. 
 
 Parr, a peasant, lived to a hundred and forty-four, without being 
 abstemious, 175. 
 
 Paradise-bird, few have more deceived and puzzled the learned 
 than this ; it is an inhabitant of the Molucca Islands ; erroneous 
 reports concerning this bird, and what has given rise to them ; the 
 native savages of those islands carefully cut off its legs before they 
 bring it to market, and why ; two kinds of the bird of paradise ; 
 their distinction from other birds ; the description of this bird ; 
 found in great numbers in the island of Aro,, where the inhabitants 
 call it God's bird ; live in large flocks, and at night perch upon the 
 same tree ; are called by aome the swallows of Ternate, and, like 
 
PAU 
 
 INDEX 
 
 PEN 
 
 41 
 
 them, have tlieir stated times of return ; their king distinguished 
 from the rest by the lustre of his plumage, and the respect and 
 veneration paid to him ; killing the king, the best chance of get- 
 ting the flock ; the chief mark to know the king is by the ends of 
 the feathers in the tail, having eyes like those of the peacock ; how 
 this bird breeds, or what the number of its young, remains for dis- 
 covery ; for beauty it exceeds all others of the pie-kind ; the na- 
 tives of the isle of Aro make a trade of killing and selling them to 
 the Europeans, 522 to 525. 
 
 Parakeet. See Parrot. 
 
 Parana, a river in South America, from which the Plata runs 
 eight hundred leagues from its source to its mouth, H3. 
 
 Parasina, name given by the Italians to a fishing line, not less 
 than twenty miles long ; baited with above ten or twelve thousand 
 hooks, and sunk to the bottom along the coast in the Mediterranean, 
 fur that fishing called the pieliigo. 034. 
 
 Parasitt: plants, not able to support themselves, grow and fix 
 upon some neighbouring tree, 12'^. 
 
 Parrot, the middle or second size of the kind described; llie ease 
 with which this bird is taught to speak, and the number of words it 
 is capable of repeating, are surprising ; a grave writer allirms, 
 that one of these was taught to repeat a whole sonnet from Pi 
 the author has seen one taught to pronounce the ninth command- 
 ment articulately ; account of a parrot belonging to Henry VII.; 
 Linnaeus makes its varieties amount to forty-seven ; Brisson ex- 
 tends his catalogue to ninety-five ; and the author thinks them 
 numberless ; peculiarities observed in their conformation ; common 
 enough in Europe ; will not, however, breed here ; the rook is not 
 better known with us than the parrot in almost every part of the 
 East and West Indies ; instances of sagacity and docility, particu- 
 larly of the great parrot called aieurous ; their nests and the num- 
 ber of eggs ; usual method of taking the young ; always speak best 
 when not accustomed to harsh wild notes ; in France very expert, 
 but nothing to those of Brazil, which, Clausius says, are most sen- 
 sible and cunning; natives of Brazil shoot them with heavy ar- 
 rows, headed with cotton, which knock down the bird \vi1hout kill- 
 ing it ; those of the parakeet tribe are delicate eating : of this kind 
 in Brazil, Labat assures these are the most beautilul in plumage, 
 nnd the most talkative possible : are restless, tmd ever on the wing ; 
 their habits ; tlieir outcry when their companions fall ; are very 
 destructive on the coast of Guinea, and are considered by the 
 negroes as their greatest tormentors; more than a hundred dif- 
 ferent kinds counted on the coast of Africa ; the white sort called 
 lories ; countries where found ; one, north of the Cape of Good 
 Hope, takes its name from the multitude of parrots in its woods ; 
 a hundred kinds now known, not one of which naturally breeds in 
 countries that acknowledged the Roman power ; the green para- 
 keet, with a red neck, was the first of this kind brought into En- 
 rope, and the only one known to Ihe ancients from Alexander the 
 Great to Nero; disorders peculiar to the parrot kind; one well 
 kept will live five or six and twenty years, 525 to 52! >. 
 
 Partridffs, in England, a favourite delicacy at the tables of the 
 rich, whose desire of keeping them to themselves has been gratified 
 with laws fur their preservation, no way harmonizing with the 
 general spirit of English legislation, and -. M-C two kinds, 
 
 the gray and the red ; the gray is most prolific, and always keeps 
 on the ground; the red less common, and perches upon trees; the 
 partridge is found in every country, and climate; in On 
 where Ft is brown in summer, becomes white in winter ; those of 
 Baraconda are larger legged, swifter of foot, and reside in the 
 highest rocks ; partridges of all sorts agree in one character, being 
 iimnoderately addicted to venery, often to an unnatural <!i - : n -,.< ; the 
 male pursues the hen to her nest, and breaks her eggs ratiior than 
 be disappointed; the young having kept in ii.icks during winter, 
 break society in spring, when they begin to pair, ami terrible com- 
 bats ensue; their manners otherwise resemble these of pmil'ry. 
 but their cunning and instincts are superior; means l!i 
 uses to draw away any formidable animal that aptinwiits h 
 the covies are from ten to fifteen, and, unmolested, they live from 
 fifteen to seventeen years ; method of taking them in a net. with a 
 setting-dog, the most pleasant, and most secure ; they are never so 
 tame as our domestic poultry. 507. 5(>r-. 
 
 Passions, most of the furious sort characterized from the eleva- 
 tion and depression of the eye-brows, 142 ; freedom from passions 
 not only adds to the happiness of the mind, hut preserves the beau- 
 ty of the face, 17-1. 
 
 Pastures, those of Great Britain excellently adapted to the cow 
 kind, 233. 
 
 Patas, by some called the red African monkey; its descrip- 
 tion, 411. 
 
 Paul f St.) in Lower Brittany. Sec Sand. 
 NO. 79 &. 80. 
 
 Pnuneli, name of the first stomach of ruminating animals, 231. 
 
 1'ir-ini, name of the eighth variety of gazelles, by Mr. Buffon,251. 
 
 I't acock, a saying among the ancients, As beautiful as is the pea- 
 cock among birds, so is the tiger among quadrupeds, 2!>7; varieties 
 of this bird; some white, others crested; that of Thibet the most 
 beautiful of the feathered creation ; our first were brought from 
 the East Indies, and they are still found in flocks in a wild state in 
 the inlands of Java and Ceylon ; the common people of Italy say it 
 has the plumage of an angel, the voice of a devil, and the guts of a 
 thief; in the days of Solomon we find his navies imported from the 
 I'.ast, apes ami peaeocks ; ^Klian relates they were brought into 
 Greece from some barbarous country, and that a male and female 
 were valued at thirty pounds of our money ; it is said also, that 
 when Alexander was in India, he saw them flying wild on the banks 
 of the river Hyarotis, and was so struck with their beauty, that ho 
 laid a fine and punishment on all who should kill or disturb them; 
 the Greeks were so much taken with the beauty of this bird, when 
 first brought among them, that it was shown tor money, and many 
 came to Athens from Laec.drrmon and Thessaly to see it; once 
 esteemed a delicacy at the tallies of Ihe rich and great ; Aufidius 
 Hurco stands charged by Pliny with being the first who fatted up 
 peacocks for the feasts of the luxurious ; Hortensius, the orator, was 
 'lie I'nst who served them up at. an entertainment at Rome, and 
 jj they are talked of as the first of viands ; in the times of Francis I. 
 it was a custom to serve up peacocks to the tables of the great, not 
 to be eaten, but seen ; in what manner they served them ; its flesh 
 is said to keep longer unputrefied than any other ; has a predilec- 
 tion for barley ; but as a proud and fickle bird, there is scarce any 
 food it will at all times like ; it strips the tops of houses of tiles or 
 thatch, lays waste the labours of the gardener, roots up the choicest 
 seeds, and nips favourite flowers in the bud ; is still more salacious 
 than the eock ; requires five females at least to attend him, and, 
 the number not sufficient, will run upon and tread the sitting hen ; 
 the pea-hen, as much as possible hides her nest from him, that he 
 may not disturb her sitting ; she seldom lays above five or six eggs 
 in this climate ; Aristotle describes her laying twelve ; in forests 
 where they breed naturally they are very numerous; this bird 
 lives about twenty years, and not till the third year lias that beau- 
 tiful variegated plumage of its tail; in the kingdom of Cambaya, 
 says Taverner, near the city of Baroch, whole flocks of them are in 
 the fields; description of their habits; decoy made use of to catch 
 them there, 497, 4!i8. 
 
 Pcuriirk (sea) a name given to the Balearic crane, 5.".-'. 
 
 /'ml; nf Tun riffr, its volcano seldom free from eruptions, 29. 
 
 Peak, mountain in the Molucca islands, swallowed by an earth- 
 quake, 47. 
 
 Pearl, an animal substance concreted and taking a tincture from 
 the air ; found in all bivalved shells, the inside of which resembles 
 that substance called mother-of-pearl; jmiri-vystcr, from which 
 the mother-of-pearl is token ; several pearl fisheries ; the chief of 
 them in the Persian Gulf, and the most valuable pearls brought 
 from thence ; the wretched people destined to fish for pearls, usually 
 die consumptive; in what manner they fish for them, 691,692. 
 
 Pearls, in stags, are parts rising from the crust of the beam, 
 262. 
 
 Pecrary or tajara, an animal, a native of America ; found there 
 in sueh numbers, that they are seen in herds of several hundreds 
 ("u'-tluT ; at fii-st view resembling a small hog; its description; 
 has upon the back a lump like the navel in other animals ; goes in 
 herds of two or three hundred, and unites, like hogs, in each other's 
 defence ; delights not in marshes or mud like our hogs ; an unceas- 
 ing enemy to the lizard, the toad, and the serpent kinds ; also feeds 
 upon toads and serpents. '}:! to 'J-4. 
 
 n ' . the Arabians preserve that of their best horses, 216. 
 
 /':.".& river c:;llad the Indian iNile, because of its overflow- 
 ing, <>4. 
 
 Ptlagii, the Latin name for those shells fished up from the 
 deep, 0>U. 
 
 t'llirnn, a ruminating bird. 9:12 ; a native of Africa and America; 
 its df.cription ; the description of this bird from Father Labat; 
 their flesh rancid, and tastes worse than it smells; use made by 
 the Americans of their pouches ; is U'>t entirely incapable; of in- 
 struction in a domestic stat" ; iiuUuices of it ; Gesner tells us that 
 the Emperor Maximilian had a tame one which lived eighty years ; 
 Aldrovandus mentions one believed to be fifty years old, 576 to 578. 
 
 Penguins, a heavy water-fowl ; the wings of this tribe unfit 
 for flight ; and their legs still more awkwardly adapted for walk- 
 ing : they dive to the bottom ; or swim between two waters ; they 
 never visit land but when coming to breed ; their colour ; are co- 
 vered more warmly with feathers than other birds ; description of 
 the Mao-ellanic penguin ; they unite in them the qualities of men, 
 
 6L 
 
PIE 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 PLA 
 
 fowls, nd fi&hrs; instances of its gluttonous appetite; their food 
 and flesh ; are a bird of society, 5ft? to .">.*!'. 
 
 Peninsula of India, on one side the coasts are near half the year 
 harassed by violent hurricanes and northern tempests, 102. 
 
 Penpark-holc, in Gloucestershire ; its description, from Captain 
 Sturmey, 19. 
 
 People, so young as fourteen or fifteen, often found to cease 
 growing, 140. 
 
 Pepper, the Indians prefer that devoured and voided unconcocted 
 by the toucan, 518. 
 
 Perch, a prickly-finned thoracic fish, its description. 648. 
 
 Perfumes, no perfume has a stronger or more permanent smell 
 than musk, 255 ; the scent of the martin a most pleasant perfume, 
 334 ', some of the weasel kind have a smell approaching to per- 
 fume, 338; that of the musk or the civet, 33'.t; in whiit. manner 
 taken from the pouch ; civet a more grateful perfume thon rnusk ; 
 is communicated to all parts of the animal's body ; the fur impreg- J 
 Dated, and the skin also ; a person shut up with one of them in a 
 close room cannot support the scent ; this perfume sold in Holland 
 for about fifty shillings an ounce, 340, 341. 
 
 Perscpons, its pastures excellent for the purpose of rearing 
 horses, 21!). 
 
 Persia, the horses of that country the most beautiful and most 
 valuable of all in the East. 219; there are studs of ten thousand 
 white mares together, with hoofs so hard th.it shoeing is unnecessa- 
 ry, 216 ; description of the Persian horses by Pif3tro de la Valle, 219 ; 
 the flesh of the wild ass so much liked that its delicacy is a pro- 
 verb there ; an entertainment of wild asses exhibited by the mo- 
 parch to Olearius. 224; two kinds of asses there, and some of them 
 worth forty or fifty pounds, 22(i. 
 
 Persian Gulf, a very dangerous wind prevails, by the natives 
 called the Sameyel j it suddenly kills all those it involves in its pas- 
 sage, and frequently assumes a visible form, darting in a blueish 
 vapour along the surface of the country, 105. 
 
 Perspiration, an experiment from which the learned may infer 
 npon what foundation the doctrine of'Sanctorian perspiration is 
 built, 149. 
 
 Peruvians understood the art of preserving their dead for a long 
 time, 194. 
 
 Peter the Great, of Russia, celebrated a marriage of dwarfs ; 
 the preparations for this wedding were grand, yet in a style of bar- 
 barous ridicule, 188, 189. 
 
 Petreoleum , an injection of this bituminous oil inwardly, and an 
 application of asphaltum without, sufficient to make a mummy, 188. 
 
 Pcttichaps, a bird of the sparrow kind, 537. 
 
 Phalanger, a kind of oppossum ; its description ; called the rat 
 of Surinam, 415. 
 
 Pharaoh (the cat of) name given to the ichneumon. 337. 
 
 Pliaraoh (the capon of) thought to be the true ibis ; a devourer 
 of serpents, 557. 
 
 Phasis, a river of Colchis, in Asia Minor, from the hanks of 
 which the pheasants were brought into Europe, and still retain 
 their name, 501. 
 
 Phalagin, an animal less than the pangolin ; where to be found, 
 380. 
 
 Pheasants, at first propagated among us, brought into Europe 
 from the banks of the Phusis a river of Colchis, in Asia Minor, 
 where they still retain their name ; description of tmV; beautiful bird ; 
 wild arnonff us, is an envied ornament of our parks and forests, 
 where he f"eeds upon acorns and berries ; in the woods the hen 
 pheasant lays from eighteen to twenty eggs in a season ; but in a 
 domestic state seldom above ten ; it is better, left at large in the 
 woods than reduced to its pristine captivity; its fecundity, when 
 wild, is mifificient to stock the forest, and its flesh acquires a higher 
 flavour from its unlimited freedom ; many varieties of pheasants ; 
 of nil others, the golden pheasant of China the most beautiful, 501 
 to 503. 
 
 Phlrgium a high mountain of Ethiopia, swallowed by an earth- 
 quake, 47. 
 
 Pholas, the file-fish, places where these animals are found ; their 
 power of penetrating ; the pillars of the temple of Serapis at Pu- 
 teoli were penetrated by them; they pierce the hardest bodies 
 with their tongue, (394. 695. 
 
 Pichincha, a remarkable mountain near Quito, in South America, 
 44. 
 
 Pie, no class of birds so ingenious, active, and well-fitted for so- 
 ciety ; they live in pairs, and their attachments are confined to 
 each other ; they Iniild nests in trees or bushes ; the male shares 
 in the labour of building, and relieves his mate in the duties of in- 
 cubation ; and the young once excluded, both are equally active 
 in making them ample provision ; general laws prevail, and a re- 
 
 publican form of government is established among them ; thjr 
 wiitrli for the general safety of every bird of the grove ; they are 
 remarkable for instinct, and capacity for instruction ; instances of 
 it ; the few general characters in which they all agree. 511, 512. 
 Pie (sea) breeds in this country, and resides in its marshy parts, 
 
 Pigrons, are ruminating birds, 232 ; those that live in a wild 
 state by no means so fruitful as those in our pigeon-houses near 
 home ; the tame pigeon, and all its beautiful varieties, owe their 
 origin to one species, the stock-dove ; various names of tume 
 pigeons : attempts made to render domestic the ring-dove, but 
 fruitless; the turtle-dove a bird of passage ; a pair put in a cage, 
 and one dying, the other does not survive ; the pigeon called ocot- 
 zimtzcan, is one of the splendid tenants of the Mexican forests; 
 pigeon of the dove-house is not so faithful as the turtle-dove ; near 
 fifteen thousand pigeons may in four years be produced from a 
 single pair ; the stock-dove seldom breeds above twice a year ; 
 the dove-houso pigeon breeds every month ; have a stronger 
 attachment to their young than those who breed so often ; the 
 pigeons called carriers used to convey letters; not trained with 
 as much care as formerly, when sent from a besieged city to those 
 coining to relieve it ; in an hour and a half they perform a journey 
 of forty-miles, 529 to 532. 
 
 Pigmy, the existence of a pigmy race of mankind is founded in 
 error or in fable, 188. 
 
 Pigtail, is the last of the baboons ; its description, 406. 
 
 Pike, the description of this fish, 059 ; instances of its rapacity, 
 659. 
 
 Pilc/iards, little differing from the herring ; make the coast of 
 Cornwall their place of resort ; advantages of this fishery ; money 
 paid for pilchards exported has annually amounted to near fifty 
 thousand pounds, 655, G56. 
 
 Pillau. on the Baltic, the shores there divided into districts for 
 the sturgeon-fishery, 041. 
 
 Pills, of calcined shells and tobacco, used by the American In- 
 dians to palliate hunger, 155. 
 
 Pilori, one of the three distinctions of the musk-rat ; a native 
 of the West Indies, 307. 
 
 Pilot of the shark, name given the sucking-fish or remora, and 
 why, 631. 
 
 Pinch, name of a monkey of the sagoin kind ; its description, 
 412. 
 
 Pintadal, or the Guinea hen, its description; different names 
 given to this bird, 503. 
 
 Pintail, a kind of duck, 598. 
 
 Pipal, the Surinam toad, an extraordinary and hideous creature ; 
 its description. 707. 
 
 Pipr-Jifh, cartilaginous, and not thicker than a swan's quill ; its 
 description. 644. 
 
 Pipe-worms, and other little animals, fix their habitations to the 
 oyster's sides, and live in security, 089. 
 
 Pit-falls, a wolf, a friar, and a woman, taken in one all in the 
 same night ; the woman lost her senses, the friar his reputation, 
 and the wolf his life, 321. 
 
 Pithckos, a name given by the ancients to the ape properly so 
 called, 403. 
 
 Pivot, the razor -shell, its motion, and habits ; is allured by salt, 
 690. 
 
 Placenta, that body by which the animal is supplied with nou- 
 rishment, 130. 
 
 Plague, not well known whence it has its beginning ; is propa- 
 gated by infection ; some countries, even in the midst of Africa, , 
 never infected with it ; others generally visited by it once a year, 
 as Eygpt ; not known in Nigritia ; Nmnidia it molests not once in 
 a hundred years ; plague spread over the world in 1346, after two 
 years travelling from the great kingdom of Cathay, north of 
 China, to Europe ; the plague desolated the city of London in 
 1665 ; for this last age, it has abated its violence, even in those 
 countries where most common, and why ; a plague affected trees 
 and stones, 96, 97. 
 
 Plaisne en Jlnjou, a village in France, particular account of a 
 dwarf born there, 189. 
 
 Plaster of Paris, finely powdered, boils and heaves in great 
 waves, like water, 53. 
 
 Planets exceed the earth one thousand times in magnitude ; at 
 first supposed to wander in the heavens without fixed paths ; per- 
 form their circuits with great exactness, and strict regularity, 1. 
 
 Plants and vegetables, will not grow so fast in distilled as un- 
 distilled water, 49 ; smell of some BO powerful as hardly to be en- 
 dured, 64 ; do not vegetate in an exhausted receiver, 92 ; but thus 
 ceasing to vegetate, keep longer sweet than when exposed to ex 
 
POL 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 PTA 
 
 43 
 
 (ernal air, ib. ; their juices rarefied principally by the sun, to give 
 an escape to their imprisoned air, 99; a certain plant in Ireland so 
 strongly affected the person who beat it in a mortar, and the physi- 
 cian present, that their hands and faces swelled to an enormous 
 ize, and continued tumid for some time after, 96; compared with 
 animals ; similitude ; how assimilated in different climates and soils, 
 119, 120; the sensitive, that moves at the touch, lias as much per- 
 ception as the fresh-water polypus, possessed of a still slower share 
 ef molion, 119. See Caraguata, 120. See Parasite, 121. 
 
 Plate, or Plata, a great river in South America ; its source and 
 length, 63. 
 
 Platina. or white gold, the most obstinate of all substances, 22. 
 
 Pleurs en Champagne, a town in France, buried beneath a rocky 
 mountain, 46. 
 
 Pliny, in his arrangements, placed the bats among birds, 383. 
 
 Placer, the green and gray, are birds of passage ; the Norfolk 
 plover for the most part resides here, 569, 570. 
 
 Pochard, a kind of duck, 598. 
 
 Poetry, our ancestors excel us in the poetic arts, 192. 
 
 Pointer, a kind of dog, 318. 
 
 Poison, the most deadly poisons are often of great use in medi- 
 cines, 168; fishes often live and subsist upon such substances as are 
 poisonous to the more perfect classes of animated nature ; the 
 many speculations and conjectures to which this poisonous quality 
 in some fishes has given rise, 660 ; some crabs found poisonous, 
 668 ; the seat where the poison in venomous serpents lies, 733 ; the 
 serpent-poison may be taken inwardly, without any sensible effects, 
 or any prejudice to the constitution ; if milk be injected into a vein, 
 it will kill With more certain destruction than even the poison of the 
 riper, 734. See Fire-fare. See ,Veu> Providence 
 
 Polar regions, description of them, 3,4 ; and of the inhabitants 
 round them ; are of short stature, and savage appearance, 178. 
 
 Pole-cat, a distinct species from the ermine ; resembles the fer- 
 ret so much, that some have thought them the same animal ; there 
 are many distinctions between them ; description of the pole-cat ; 
 very destructive to young game ; the rabbit its favourite prey ; and 
 one pole-cat destroys a whole warren by a wound hardly percepti- 
 ble ; it kills much more than it can devour ; generally reside in 
 woods or thick brakes, making holes two yards deep under ground ; 
 female brings forth in summer five or six young at a time, and sup- 
 plies the want of milk with the blood of such animals as she can 
 seize ; the fur is in less estimation than of inferior kinds, and why; 
 an inhabitant of temperate climates, being afraid of cold as well as 
 heat ; the species confined in Europe to a range from Poland to Italy, 
 333, 334 ; pole-cat of America and Virginia are names for the 
 squash and the skink ; distinctions of these animals, 338, 339 ; 
 seizes the flying-squirrel. 354. 
 
 Poles, trade winds continually blow from them towards the equa- 
 tor, 191 ; the winter beginning round the poles, the same misty ap- 
 pearance produced in the southern climates by heat is there pro- 
 duced by cold ; the sea smokes like an oven there, 113 ; the strength 
 of the natives round polar regions is not less amazing than their 
 patience in hunger, 179 
 
 Polynemus, description of this fish, 649. 
 
 Polypus, very voracious ; noted for its amazing fertility ; its 
 description ; uses its arms as a fisherman his net ; is not of the 
 vegetable tribe, but a real animal; every polypus has a colony 
 sprouting from its body; and these new ones, even while attached 
 to the parent, become parents themselves, witli a smaller colony 
 also budding from them ; though cut into thousands of parts, each 
 still retains its vivacious quality, and shortly becomes a distinct and 
 complete polypus, fit to reproduce upon cutting in pieces ; it hunts 
 for its food, and possesses a power of choosing it, or retreutm:/ frv>m 
 danger, 125, 126 ; dimensions of the sea-polypus, and of that which 
 grows in freshwater; the power of dissection first tried upon these 
 animals to multiply their numbers ; Mr. Trembley has the honour 
 of the first discovery of the amazing properties and powers of this 
 little vivacious creature ; their way of living ; arms serve them as 
 lime twigs do a fowler; how it seizes upon its prey ; the cold approach- 
 ing to congelation, they feel the general torpor of nature, and their 
 faculties are for two or three months suspended ; such as are best 
 supplied soonest acquire their largest size, but they diminish also 
 iu their growth with the same facility if their food be lessened ; 
 some propagated from eggs ; some produced by buds issuing from 
 the bodv, as plants by inoculation ; while all may be multiplied by 
 cuttings, to an amazing degree of minuteness; of those produced 
 like buds from the parent stem, should the parent swallow a red 
 worm, it gives a tincture to all its fluids, and the young partake of 
 the parental colour ; but if the latter should seize upon the same 
 prey, the parent is no way benefited by the capture, all the advan- 
 tage thus remains with the young ; several young of different sizes 
 
 are growing from its body ; some just budding forth, others ac- 
 quiring perfect form, and others ready to drop from the original 
 stem ; those young still attached to the parent, bud and propagata 
 also, each holding dependence upon its parent ; artificial method of 
 propagating these animals by cuttings ; Mr. Hughes describei a 
 species of this animal, but mistakes its nature, and calls it a sensi- 
 tive flowering plant, 833 to 83l>. 
 
 Polypus-coral, the work of an infinite number of reptiles of that 
 kind, p37. 
 
 Pomr.rania, a large part of it covered by the sea, 82. 
 
 Pongo, name given by Battel to the ouran-outang, 402. 
 
 Poppies affect with drowsiness those who walk through fields of 
 them, S6. 
 
 Poretluin, an artificial composition of earth and water, united bj 
 heat, 49. 
 
 Porrupinc, as to quills might be classed among the birds, 206 ; 
 its description, 1175; of all those brought into Europe, not one ever 
 seen to launch its quills, though sufficiently provoked ; their man- 
 ner of defence ; dirt-els its quills pointing to the enemy ; and Kol- 
 ben relates, the lion then will not venture an attack ; feeds on ser- 
 pents and other rrptiles ; porcupine of Canada subsists on vegeta- 
 bles ; those brought to this country for show usually fed on bread, 
 milk, and fruits ; do not refuse meat when offered ; is extremely 
 hurtful to gardens; the Americans who hunt it, believe it live* 
 from twelve to filleen years ; time of their gestation ; the female 
 brings forth one at a time : she suckles it about a month, and accus- 
 toms it to live like herself upon vegetables and the bark of trees ; 
 the porcupine never attempts to bite or any way injure- its pursuers ; 
 manner of' escaping, when hunted by a dog or a wolf; circumstances 
 concerning it remaining to be known ; little known w ith precision, 
 except what offers in a state of captivity ; description of one kept 
 in an iron cage ; the porcupine of America differs much from that 
 of the ancient continent ; two kinds, the couanda and the urson ; 
 description of both, 375 to 377. 
 
 Porcupine of tlie sea, described, 595. 
 
 Pork, unpalatable with us in summer, is the finest eating in the 
 warmer latitudes, 224. 
 
 Por/ioisf, or porpesse, a fish less than a grampus, with the snout 
 of a hog; its description and habits, 515, olti; possess, proportion- 
 ably to their bulk, the manners of whales ; places where they seek 
 for prey ; manner of killing them in the Thames ; yield a large 
 quantity of oil ; the lean of some, not old, said to be as well tasted 
 as veal ; caviar prepared from the eggs of this fish, 626, 627. 
 
 Ports choked up with sand by the vehemence of the wind, 102. 
 
 Pouch, or bag, receptacle of the civet, 341. See Bustard, 504. 
 See Pelican, 576, 
 
 Poultry, general characteristics of the poultry kind ; nearly all do- 
 mestic birds of this kind maintained in our yards, are of foreign extrac- 
 tion ; the courtship of this kind is short, and the congress fortuitous ; 
 the male takes no heed of his offspring; though timorous with birds of 
 prey, he is incredibly bold among his own kind; the sight of a male 
 of fiis own species produces a combat ; the female takes all the la- 
 bour of hatching and bringing up her young, choosing a place re- 
 mote from the cock, 492. 493. 
 
 Powis Land, in Wales, for many ages famous for a swift and 
 generous race of horses. 222. 
 
 I'lnrtr.rs, a variety of the tame pigeons, 532. 
 
 Pri-ynancy of some women found to continue a month beyond 
 the usual time, 132 ; of all animals, in point of time, is proportioned 
 to their size. 212 ; in that state no animals, except the hare, receive 
 the male, 346 ; the duration in the female of the elephant still un- 
 known, 421. 
 
 Prctfurts, perpendicular in rivers, always in exact proportion to 
 the depth, 59. 
 
 Prey, all the males of these birds less and weaker than the fe- 
 males,' 472. See Birds. 
 
 Pricket, name hunters give the buck the second year, 266. 
 
 Propagation of enats. ul) e f>f the strangest discoveries in natural 
 history, &&i ; a new kind lately discovered in a most numerous tribe 
 of animals, propagated by cuttings, 82d ; different manner of that 
 operation in the polypi, 836. 
 
 Pro/iulis, a rc.inous gum, with which bees plaster the inside of 
 their hives, 802. 
 
 Proportion of the human figure, very little known with precision 
 in regard to it, 148. 
 
 Provider, of the lion, what has given rise to the jackal's being so 
 called, 208. 
 
 Psalmudi, an island in France, in A. D. 815, now six miles from 
 the shore, 81. 
 
 Ptarmigan, sort of grouse, chiefly found in heathy mountains 
 and piny forests, 505, 500. 
 
 6L* 
 
44 
 
 11AB 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 REG 
 
 PMriasis, the lousy disease, frequent among the ancients ; prin- 
 cipal people who died of this disorder ; plants and animals are in- 
 fested with diseases of this kin*; a vegetable louse from America 
 over-run all the physic-garden of Leyden ; the leaf-louse de- 
 scribed ; three principal and constant enemies to those insects, 754 
 to 756. 
 
 Puffin, or Coulterncb, marks that distinguish this bird ; its resi- 
 dence ; migration ; found by hundreds, cast away upon shores, 
 lean and perished with famine ; lays one egg ; few birds or beasts 
 venture to attack its retreat ; in what manner it defends itself 
 against the raven ; the Manks' puffin is itself one of the most terri- 
 ble invaders ; instances of it ; places which abound with them ; in 
 what manner their young are fed ; their food, 5M9 to 592. 
 
 Puget adapted the cornea of a flea in such a position, as to see 
 objects through it by means of a microscope ; strangeness of the 
 representations, 792. 
 
 Puma, an animal decorated with the name of American lion, 
 though, when compared, so contemptible as to be inferior to that 
 called the American tiger, 519. 
 
 Pump, an experiment upon a carp put under a receiver, 610. 
 
 Ptirre, a small bird of the crane kind, with a shorter bill, and 
 thighs bare of feathers, 568. 
 
 Pull oii, a city swallowed up by an earthquake, had a temple of 
 Serapis, the pillars of which, while under water, were penetrated 
 by the pholas, or file-fish, 6!)5. 
 
 Putrefaction, a new CTUSC of animal life, 125. 
 
 Pyramids of Egypt, one of them entirely built of a kind of free- 
 stone, in which petrified shells are found in great abundance, 14. 
 
 Purard. his account of a kind of apes called baris, which, pro- 
 perly instructed when young, serve as useful domestics, 401. 
 
 Pyrites, their composition, 23. 
 
 Q. 
 
 Quadrupeds, they bear the nearest resemblance to man, 205 ; the 
 weaker races exert all efforts to avoid their invaders ; next to hu- 
 man influence, the climate seems to have the strongest effects upon 
 their nature and form ; both at the line and the pole, the wild are 
 fierce and untameable. America inferior to us in these produc- 
 tions ; opinion that all in South America are a different species from 
 those most resembling them in the old world ; such as peculiarly 
 belong to the new continent are without any marks of the perfec- 
 tion of their species; the large and formidable produce but one 
 young at a time, while the mean and contemptible are prolific ; it 
 has been wisely ordered so 4)y Providence, 208 to 212; those that 
 ruminate are harmless and easily tamed, 231 ; they are chiefly the 
 cow, the sheep, and the deer kind. 232 ; the largest are found in the 
 torrid zone, and these are all fond of the water. 239 ; chevrotin, or 
 little Guinea-deer, the least of all cloven-footed aniinaU, ;md per- 
 haps the most beautiful ; its description, 253 ; none can be more 
 beautiful than the tiger, 237 ; change of colour in the hair obtains 
 in them all to a degree plainly observable, 330 ; the carnivorous 
 have not milk in plenty, 334 ; are not fond of engaging each other, 
 i)35 ; general description of amphibious quadrupeds, 3d6. 
 
 Quail, a bird of passage ; description of it, 509. 
 
 Quarry of Maestricht, 40,000 people may take shelter in it ; its 
 description, 19. 
 
 Qu'ctrs'l-eer, remarkable effects of it at the mines near Idra, re- 
 lated by Dr. Pope in the Philosophical Transactions, 23. 
 
 Quills. See Porcupine, 275. 
 
 Quito, in South America, one of the most charming regions upon 
 earth, 44. 
 
 R. 
 
 Rabbit, a ruminating animal, 232; rabbit and hare distinct kinds; 
 a creature covered with feathers and hair said to be bred between 
 a rabbit and a hen ; breed seven times a year, and bring eight 
 young each time, 263, 264 ; various colours of rairfjits; the mouse- 
 coloured kinds originallv from an island in the river Humber, still 
 continuing their general colour after a number of successive gene- 
 rations ; account of their production ; the rabbit generally fatter, 
 and lives longer, than the hare ; native of the warmer climates; it 
 has been imported into England from Spain ; in some of the islands 
 of the Mediterranean they multiplied in such numbers, that mili- 
 tary aid v:as demanded to destroy them ; love a warm climate ; de- 
 light in grounds of a sandy soil ; the fur u very useful commodity 
 in England, 349 to 357. 
 
 Rabbit (Syrian) remarkable for the length, gloss, and softness of 
 the hair, 292, 351. 
 
 Rabbit (Brazilian) shaped like the English, but without a tail, 
 
 Racoon, with some the Jamaica rat ; its description and habits ; 
 do more injury in one night in Jamaica than the labours of a month 
 can repair ; capable of being instructed in amusing tricks ; drinks 
 by lapping as well as by sucking ; its food, 4'.A), 440. 
 
 Ramlnni's, circular rainbows in the Alps, 42; and between the 
 tropics, and near the poles, 110; one of the three rainbows seen by 
 Ulloa, at Quito, was real, the rest only reflections thereof; a glass 
 globe filled with water, will assume successively all the colours, of 
 the rainbow, 1 12. 
 
 Rainfinal, the name given in some parts of the country to the 
 woodpecker, 519. 
 
 Rams, it is no uncommon thing, in the counties of Lincoln and 
 Warwick, to give 50 guineas for a ram, 243. 
 
 Ranguer, name of the ninth variety of gazelles, made by Mr. 
 Buffoii, 252. 
 
 Rarefaction of the nir produced by the heat of the sun in coun- 
 tries under the line, 101. 
 
 Rats, musk-rut, three distinctions of that species, the ondatra, 
 desman, and pilori ; in what they resemble each other ; the 
 savages of Canada think the musk-rat intolerably fetid, but deem 
 its flesh good eating ; great rat, called also rat of fforway, though 
 unknown in all northern countries ; originally from the Levant, and 
 a new-comer into this country ; first arrival upon the coasts of Ire- 
 land, with ships trading in provisions to Gibraltar; a. single pair 
 enough for the numerous progeny now infesting the British Empire ; 
 called by Mr. BulFon the surinalot ; its description; the Norway 
 rat lias destroyed the black rat or common rat, as once called ; and 
 being of an amphibious nature, has also destroyed the frogs in Ire- 
 land ; the feeble animals do not escape the rapacity of the Norway 
 rat, except the mouse ; they eat and destroy each other ; produce 
 from fifteen to thirty at a time, and bring forth three times a year; 
 the black rat has propagated in America in great numbers, intro- 
 duced from Europe, and are become the most noxious animals there ; 
 biack water-rut not web-footed, as supposed by Ray ; the German rut. 
 See Cricctus, 362 to 368. 
 
 Rat of Surinam. See Phalanger, 415. 
 
 Rat of Jamaica., a name by some given to the racoon, 439. 
 
 Rattlesnake, kind of friendship between it and the armadillo, or 
 tatou, frequently found in the same hole, 382; its description and 
 dimensions ; effects of its bite ; the remedies against it ; power of 
 charming its prey into its mouth ; facts related to this purpose, 
 736 to 739. 
 
 Ravens, how distinguished from the carrion-crow and rook; man- 
 ners and appetites ; ravens found in every region of the world ; 
 white ravens often shown, and rendered so by art; amusing quali- 
 ties, vices, and defects ; food in the wild state ; places for building 
 nests ; number of eggs ; will not permit their young to keep in the 
 same district, but drive them off, when sufficiently able to shift for 
 themselves ; the Romnns thought it ominous, and from fear paid it 
 profound veneration ; Pliny's account of one kept in the temple of 
 Castor, that flew down into the shop of a tailor ; some have lived 
 near a hundred years, 512, 513 ; the horned Indian raven, 516. 
 
 Rarenna, once stood by the sea-side, and is now removed from 
 it, 81. 
 
 Ray, his method of classing animals, 200. 
 
 Ray, figure of the fish of this kind, and their differences ; amaz- 
 ing dimensions of one speared by Negroes at Guadaloupe ; to 
 credit the Norway bishop, there are some above a mile over ; sup- 
 posed to be the largest inhabitants of the deep ; three hundred 
 eggs taken out of the body of a ray ; in what manner the eggs 
 drop into the womb from the ovary or egg-bag, 632, 633. 
 
 Rays of light moderated, and their violence dissipated, by the 
 air, 98. 
 
 Raijs of the sun, darted directly upon the surface of the water, 
 compared to so many bars of red-hot iron, 108. 
 
 Razor-shell, the pirot ; its motion and habits; is allured by 
 salt, 690. 
 
 Rtuumur, his chemical elaboratory for hatching chickens, 496. 
 
 Red-breast. See Robin Red-breast. 
 
 Red-start, bird of the sparrow kind, 537. 
 
 Red-icing, or fieldfare, bird of passage ; its nest and eggs, 539. 
 
 Rrr.d, stuck into the ground in Persia continues to burn like a 
 flambeau, 25. 
 
 Reeve,, name given to the female of the ruff, 571. 
 
 Reflection of sound, its laws not as well understood as tboeo of 
 light, 167. 
 
 Regions, the highest region in the world, 44. 
 
RUM 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 SCO 
 
 v> 
 
 Rein-deer. See T)rrr, 272. 
 
 Rcmora, the .iicking-Jisli, it sticks to the shark, and drains 
 away its ino'iMiiri 1 . li.>l. 
 
 Reproduction. Si v r TVerafrfcy, 831. 
 
 r;> [it- i * ^:'ow to a prodigious size in the internal parts of South 
 America and Africa, and why ; infinite numbers of them not seen 
 in this part of the world, and why, 120, 121. 
 
 Kitieinhiiinne to the common parent of all; the olive-coloured 
 
 Astatic, and the jet black Negro, claim tho honour of hereditary 
 
 iv.-v.nbl.nire to him; argument sufficient to prove the contrary, 
 
 ld."> ; uiilieult to give a reason why the child should resemble the 
 
 or the muthcr, 187. 
 
 R< spirillum itt Jisin'x, general method of explaining it, 609. 
 
 Rliinr, a great river proceeds from the Alps, 42 ; part of it lost 
 in the sands, not far from Leyden ; the greatest part arrives at the 
 ocean, ijii. 
 
 Kh'noce.ros, a ruminating animal, 232 ; not afraid singly to oppose 
 the lion, 2fi5 ; next to the elephant the most powerful of animals ; 
 general outline of it ; the elepiunt defeated by it; its horn some- 
 times found from three feet to throe feet and a half long ; this 
 horn composed of the most solid substance, and pointed so as to 
 inflict the most fatal wounds ; a rhinoceros sent from Bengal to 
 London, not above two years old, cost near 1000 for his convey- 
 ance and tbod ; in some parts of Asia, those animals are tamed, 
 and led into the field to strike terror into the enemy, but are as 
 dangerous to their employers ; method of taking them ; some found 
 in Africa with a double horn, one above the other ; many medicinal 
 virtues ascribed to this horn, when taken in powder, without any 
 foundation, 42;~>, 426. 
 
 /.';>< r.s, all our greatest find their source among mountains, 42; 
 their production according to De la Hire, 57 ; other hypotheses 
 upon the same subject, 58 ; make their own beds, and level the 
 bottom of their channels ; their sinuosities and turnings more 
 numerous as they proceed ; a certain sign with the savages of 
 Nortli America, they are near the sea, when they find the rivers 
 winding and often changing their direction ; a little river received 
 into a large, without augmenting either width or depth, and why ; 
 instance of it ; a river tending to enter another either perpendicu- 
 larly or in an opposite direction, will be diverted by degrees from 
 that direction, and obliged to make itself a more favaurable en- 
 trance with the stream of the former ; whatever direction the 
 ridge of the mountain has, the river takes the opposite course, 59, 
 60 ; every great river, whose source lies within the tropics, lias its 
 stated inundations, 64 ; those of countries least inhabited are very 
 rocky and broken into cataracts, and why, 65 ; at the poles neces- 
 sarily small, and why ; the rivers of Kurope more navigable and 
 more manageable than those of Africa and of the torrid zone ; all 
 rivers in the world tlowing into the sea with a continuance of their 
 resent stores, would take up, at a rude computation, 800 years to 
 ill it to its present height, 67. 
 
 Halt in Rtd-brcast, a blender-billed bird of the sparrow kind, 
 living upon insects, 5157. 
 
 Ruck, great bird described by Arabian writers, and exaggerated 
 by fable, but a species of the Condor, 478. 
 
 KuetfS. See St. Kiltln. .V<4. 
 
 Rurbuck. See Drr.r, 267. 
 
 R.iii-rr tlf Kf.legme, the fivst who attempted to mend our breed 
 of horses, 222. 
 
 ii"ijtr of Sicily. See Silk Mtiniifttctitrcs, 796. 
 
 Roller, a beautiful bird of the pie kind ; its description, 517. 
 
 H<n:stin* cat down all the woods and forests in Britain, and why, 
 84 ; the vanity of their boasts best shown by the parrot kind ; in 
 a hundred species now known, not one of those birds naturally 
 breeds in any of the countries that acknowledged the Roman 
 po'.ver. 5:3: > ; a Roman emperor had fifteen hundred flamingos' 
 tniiTues served up in a single dish at a feast, 566 ; a Roman sena- 
 tor irj'.-d to throw into his ponds such of his slaves as orferided him, 
 to feed tile lampreys, 639. 
 
 liiii:ilin<il. a holy temperate man, said to hnve lived 120 years, 155. 
 
 /i'./rv>. of the pie kind ; not carnivorous : their plan of policy ; 
 tUiir chiiii' food. 514, 515. 
 
 I\otf:'ftlc, the sjreat bat of Madagascar. See Bat, 3c5. 
 
 I-tuuxiuii-ffHio, a bird of passage, described, 514, 
 
 y.Vv//i. the lurid loud. See fond, 706. 
 
 /,' if. Kiiall bird of the crane kind ; manner of taking it, 57). 
 
 K'nnitatttt quadrupeds, birds, fishes, insects ; men known to 
 ruminate ; instance in a young man at Bristol ; those of the cow 
 kind hold the first rank, 2:12 ; all of this class internally much 
 alike ; have not the upper ioreteeth, 2415 ; the stag performs this 
 with more difficulty than the cow or sheep, 200. See diurnal, 
 231, 232. 
 
 1" 
 ti 
 
 Runner, the corrira, bird of the crane kind, ita description, 567. 
 
 Hunts, a variety of tame pigeons produced by cross coupling, 
 532. 
 
 Hu.ii. copper and iron quickly covered with it ; gold contracts no 
 rust, 92. 
 
 Rut, time when the stag feels the desire of copulating, 259. 
 
 S. 
 
 Sal/Ie, its description from Mr. Jonelin, the first accurate obser- 
 ver of this animal ; sables leap with case from tree to tree, and ara 
 afraid of the sun ; different colours of their fur ; hunting the sable 
 chiefly the lot of soldiers and condemned criminals; how directed 
 to shoot them, 336. 
 
 Sabre, the trachepterus, description of this spinous fish, 649. 
 
 Sucre, bird of the generous breed of hawks, 4-H. 
 
 Stigo tree, ate by the elephant to the stump, 418. 
 
 Sui, the bowailcr. a monkey of the new continent, 412. 
 
 So/7, a stag hard hunted, taking to the water, is said to go sail, 262. 
 
 Snini's, name of the nets used in the pilchard fishery, on the 
 coast of Cornwall, 655. 
 
 Sujuu, third soil of the sapajou, a monkey of the new continent, 
 412. 
 
 Sold, the cagui, the largest monkey of the sagoin kind ; its de- 
 scription, 413. 
 
 Sal jimmoiiiac made of the urine of camels, 432. 
 
 Salamander, there is no such animal existing as that described 
 by the ancients ; the modern salamander a lizard ; there are many 
 kinds ; its conformation and habits ; reports concerning their 
 venom ; idle notion of its being inconsumable in fire, 717, 718. 
 
 Salira, in the lama, or American camel, supplied by nature in 
 such abundance, that it spits on all occasions, and seems the only 
 offensive weapon of this harmless creature, 434. 
 
 Salmon, a ruminating fish, 232 ; a soft finned abdominal fish, G50. 
 
 Salt-water. See Sea and Sea-water. 
 
 Salt, Bay salt, brought from the Bay of Biscay, a strong kind 
 made by evaporation in the sun, 71 ; volatile caustic salt obtained 
 in great quantities from the cantharides fly, 822. 
 
 Samari, the aurora, the smallest and most beautiful monkey of 
 the sapajou kind, 412. 
 
 Saw/aid Tartars, description of that people, 177. 
 
 Sanctorian statical experiments upon a weak foundation, 149. 
 
 Sand, rolling in waves like a troubled sea, and overwhelming 
 all with inevitable destruction, 4 ; tract of a country, lying along 
 the sea-side in Lower Brittany, inhabited before the year 1666, 
 now lies desert, being covered with sand to the height of twenty 
 feet, 100. 
 
 Sanderling, small bird of the crane kind, 568. 
 
 Sandpiper, small bird of the crane kind, 568. 
 
 Santurin, an earthquake there in 1707; a volcano near it, 37. 
 
 Sa/iajiiH, name given to the monkies of the new continent, 411. 
 
 Savages more difficult in point of dress than the most fashion- 
 able or tawdry European ; instance of it, 145 ; perform a journey 
 of twelve hundred leagues in less than six weeks, 150 ; oblige 
 their women to a life of continual labour ; is surprised tin European 
 walks forward for his amusement and returns back again, 152. 
 
 Saucr., made with the blood and marrow of the rein-deer by the 
 Laplanders, 277. 
 
 Scallop, in its shell moves forward upon land, and swims upon 
 the surface of the water, by contrivance in a singular manner, 690. 
 
 Scar, a child distinctly marked similar to one the father received 
 in battle, 1H5. 
 
 Scarus, if we believe Ovid, is, like the salmon, a ruminating 
 238. 
 
 Samp durlt, a variety of the duck-kind, 598. 
 
 Sn nt, tin! iNugroes of Guinea have an insupportable scent, 183. 
 
 ScliaUt.H!! assures us, he saw an instance of fishes being allured 
 by music, 166. 
 
 Sciiena. a spinous fish ; description of this fish, 648. 
 
 Sru/upeudru, the centipedes, a hideous angry worm, described, 
 762. 
 
 SfinnJitr, the mackarel, a prickly-finned thoracic fish; its do" 
 scription, 648. 
 
 i Scnrpiena, or father-lasher, of the prickly-finned thoracic kind. 
 648. 
 
 Scorpion, four principal parts distinguishable in this animal ; the 
 reservoir where its poison is kept ; effect of its sting upon a dog, 
 in an experiment made by M Maupertius ; experiments made 
 upon other dogs ; instances of its irascible nature and malignity; 
 when driven to extremity, destroys itself; instance of it ; captivity 
 
46 
 
 SER 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 SHE 
 
 makes it destroy its young ; a scorpion of America produced from 
 the egg, 759 to 7b'2. 
 
 Scorpion (Water) an insect with wings, described, 779. 
 Scoter, an European duck. 
 
 Scotland has land in it at one time covered with water, at another 
 free, 82. 
 
 Scotchman, in the Tower, took not the least sustenance during 
 six weeks, 155. 
 
 Sea was open to all till the time of the emperor Justinian, 68 ; i 
 sensibly retired in many parts of the coasts of France, England, 
 Holland, Germany, and Prussia, 81 ; Norwegian sea has formed 
 several little islands from the main land, and still daily advances 
 upon the continent. 82 ; its colour not from any thing floating in it, 
 but from the different reflections of the rays of light; a proof of it; 
 the sea grows colder in proportion as divers descend, 85 ; smokes 
 like an oven near the poles, when the winter begins, 113 ; no fish 
 imbibe any of the sea-saltness with food or in respiration, 522. 
 Sea (Red) choked up with coraline substances, 85. 
 Sea-eggs, name given to the niultivalve shell-fish of the echini, 
 which move, 693. 
 
 Sea-nettles, name given by some to the star-fish, 832. 
 Sea-water, various methods proposed to render it fresh for the use 
 of seamen in long voyages, 70 ; about a forty-fifth part heavier than 
 fresh-water ; is heavier, and consequently salter, the nearer we 
 approach the line, 71. 
 
 Sea-worm may be multiplied by being cut to pieces, 125. See 
 Polypus. 
 
 Seal, its description; the varieties innumerable ; the brain largest 
 of any animal ; the foramen arale in its heart never closing, fits it 
 for continuing under water ; the water its habitation ; seldom at a 
 distance from the shore ; found in the North and Icy Seas, and on 
 those shores in flocks ; gregarious and migrant ; direct their course 
 to northern coasts, and seas free of ice, in two departures, observing 
 time and track ; how and by what passages they return unknown ; 
 females in our climate bring forth in winter ; where they rear their 
 young ; hunt and herd together, and have a variety of tones like 
 dogs and cats, to pursue prey, or warn of danger ; neither length 
 of time in pregnancy, nor duration of these animals' lives, yet 
 known ; two taken young, ai'ter ten years had the marks of age ; 
 how the Europeans and Greenlanders destroy them ; in our climate 
 they are wary, and suffer no approach ; never sleep without moving, 
 and seldom more than a minute ; taken for the skin and oi] the tat 
 yields ; the flesh formerly at the tables of the great ; an instance 
 of it; sea-lion in Anson s Voyages, the largest of the seal family, 
 392 to 395. 
 
 Seeds, some thought to thrive better for maceration in the sto- 
 mach of birds, before they be voided on the ground, 538. 
 
 Senegal, a river in Africa ; its course ; is navigable for more than 
 three hundred leagues, 62 ; receives more than twenty rivers, 64 ; 
 the natives consider forty years as a very advanced time of life, and 
 generally die of old age at fifty, 94. 
 
 Sensations, their illusions at first when man is newly brought into 
 existence, described by Mr. Button, 171 ; fish fall behind terrestrial 
 animals in their sensations, 608. 
 
 Senses, of all senses man is most inferior to other animals in that 
 of smelling ; and it seems not to offend them, 1C9 ; the grossest, and 
 most useful of all, is that of feeling, 170. 
 
 Sensitive plant has as much perception as the fresh-water poly- 
 pus, 129. 
 
 Heps, improper name of the Chalcidian lizard ; its description, 
 722. 
 
 Seraglio, to be able to furnish one the only ambition of an Asia- 
 tic, 138. 
 
 Serpents, the sea about the islands of Azores replenished with 
 them for want of motion, 70 ; the various hissings at the close of the 
 evening, make a louder symphony in Africa, than birds in Euro- 
 pean groves in a morning, 20ti ; to believe all said of the sea-serpent 
 is credulity, to refuse assent to its existence is presumption, 616 ; 
 sea-serpent, the elops described, ib. ; marks distinguishing them 
 from the rest of animals ; their conformation ; progressive motion ; 
 the only animal in the forest that opposes the monkey ; entwines 
 and devours the buffalo ; account of a combat between a serpent 
 and a buffalo ; no animals bear abstinence so long as they ; little 
 serpents live for several years in glasses, never eat at all, or stain 
 the glass with excrements ; little serpent at the Cape of Good 
 Hope, and north of the river Senegal ; long serpent of Congo ; some 
 bring forth their young alive, some bring forth eggs; some veno- 
 mous, and some inoffensive ; animals which destroy them ; boasted 
 pretensions of charming serpents ; have docility ; Egyptians paid 
 adoration to a serpent, and the inhabitants of the western coast of 
 Africa retain the some veneration ; all amphibious ; their motion, 
 
 swimming in liquids ; the ^Esculapian serpent, 724 to 730 ; seat of 
 poison in venomous serpents ; instrument by which the wound is 
 made; those destitute of fangs are harmless; various appearances 
 the venom produces; may be taken inwardly without sensible effects 
 or prejudice to the constitution ; instance of the force of serpents' 
 poison from Ray ; their principal food birds, moles, toads, lizards, 
 732 to 735 ; the prince of serpents, a native of Japan, the greatest 
 favourite of savages, 741. 
 
 Serial, a native of Malabar, resembling the panther in spots. 
 304. 
 
 Setter, a dog of the generous kind, 312. 
 
 Si-rera, lamprey of this river the most delicate of all fish, 638. 
 
 Shagreen made of the skin of the wild ass, 224 ; also the shark. 
 632. 
 
 Shammoy, a kind of goat, in the mountains of Dauphiny, Pied- 
 mont, Savoy, Switzerland, and Germany ; its description ; their 
 flesh good to eat ; in cases of danger, its hissing noise is heard at a 
 great distance ; by smell discovers a man at half a league ; admired 
 tor the beauty of its eyes ; not found in summer except in caverns 
 of rocks, amidst fragments of ice, or under the shades of spreading 
 trees ; during winter, it sleeps in the thicker forests, and feeds upon 
 shrubs and buds of pine-trees, and scratches up the snow for herb- 
 age ; manner of hunting it ; skin of the shammoy when tanned, 
 liked for softness and warmth ; the leather now called shammoy, 
 made from the tame goat, sheep, and deer, 248 to 250. See Bczoar, 
 250. 
 
 Shan!;, the red and green shank, varieties of the crane kind, 
 268. 
 
 Shark, description of the great white shark ; no fish swims so 
 fast ; outstrips the swiftest ships ; instances of frightful rapacity in 
 this fish ; its enmity to man ; usual method of sailors to take them ; 
 no animal harder to kill ; how killed by the African negroes ; the 
 reniora. or sucking fish, sticks to it ; for what purpose ; brings forth 
 living young ; Rondclctius says, the female of' the blue shark lets 
 her brood, when in danger, swim down her throat, and shelter in 
 her belly, 629 to 631. 
 
 Sheldrake, a variety of the pond-duck ; supposed a native of Eng- 
 land. 598. 
 
 Shnith-Jifh, the silurus, of the prickly-finned abdominal kind, 649. 
 
 Sheep, the author saw one that would eat flesh, 209 ; proper care 
 taken of the animal, produces favourable alterations in the fleeces 
 here and in Syria, ib. ; in course of time impoverish the pasturage, 
 2:il! ; in the domestic state, stupid, most defenceless, and inoffensive ; 
 those without horns, more dull and heavy than the rest ; those with 
 longest and finest fleeces most subject to disorders ; the goat, re- 
 sembling them in many respects, much their superior ; they propa- 
 gate together, as of one family ; distinguished from deer, 240, 241 ; 
 do not appear from old writers to have been bred in early times in 
 Britain ; no country produces such sheep as England, larger fleeces, 
 or better for clothing ; sheep without horns the best sort ; the sheep 
 in its noblest state is in the African desert, or the extensive plains 
 of Siberia ; sheep in the savage state ; the woolly sheep is only in 
 Europe, and in the temperate provinces of Asia ; subsists in cold 
 | countries, but not a natural inhabitant of them ; the Iceland sheep 
 have four, and sometimes eight horns ; with broad tails, common in 
 Tartary. Arabia, Persia, Barbary, Syria, and Egypt; the tail often 
 weighs from twenty to thirty pounds ; those called strepsichorop, 
 natives of the Archipelago; Guinea sheep described ; bring forth 
 one or two at a time, sometimes three or four ; bear their young 
 five months, 242, 243 ; tlin intestines thirty times the length of their 
 body, 291 ; in Syria and Persia, remarkable for fine gloss, length, 
 and softness of hair. *J'. 2. See Moujflim. 
 
 Shells, (fossil) found in all places near to and distant from the 
 sea, upon the surface of the earth, on the tops of mountains, or at 
 different depths, digging for marble, chalk, or other terrestrial mat- 
 ters, so compact as to preserve these shells from decay. 6 ; various 
 kinds found at a hundred miles from the sea, at Touraine in France; 
 a continued bed of oyster-shells found through the whole circum- 
 ference of five or six acres of ground near Reading, in Berkshire ; 
 shells found petrified in all the Alpine rocks, in the Pyrenees, on 
 the hills of France. England, and Flanders ; a floor or pavement of 
 petrified shells found in Kent, near the Medway ; shells always re- 
 maining in the deep ; easier to believe fossil shells bred in fresh 
 water, than that the sea for a long time covered the tops of 
 high mountains. 12 to 14 ; methods of conveying a just idea of the 
 formation of sea-shells and garden-shells : usual way of accounting 
 for different colouring in shells ; they assume every colour but 
 blue ; stairs-shell, or admiral-shell, not more precious for their 
 scarceness, than pearls for their beauty ; collections of shells have 
 their use ; naturally classed by Aristotle; places where shells are 
 found, and substances of which they are composed; supposition 
 
SKI 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 SNO 
 
 47 
 
 that all earths fermenting with vinegar, are composed of shells 
 orumbled down to one mass : \\ hat, shi 11s most valunhle : sen-shells 
 exceed land or inssil shells in ht:;intv some living hind-shells not 
 inferior in be.-uity to fn sh-wali:r shells; great variety of fossil 
 or extrm-'uiK-i shells ; different st-'tos of preservation : every shell 
 the spoil of some animal ; no matter how parted from the sea, 676 
 to 031. 
 
 Shells of the sen, of all sea-vhclla, that of the nautilus the thin- 
 nest and most easily pierced, 687 ; all bivalved shells furnish pearls, 
 ami their i'-.sides resemble and afford that substance called mother- 
 
 I. I'ill. 
 
 Skrlh (animal) of the armadillo or tatou, one of the most striking 
 curiosities in natural history, 380 ; turtle shells of an amazing 
 magnitude, 671. 
 
 Shi-llnni! Isli-s, amazing quantities of herrings appearing off 
 these islnnds, 654. 
 
 Short-heads, name given by sailors to the younir of the whale, 
 
 618. 
 
 Hlinreller, species of the crane kind ; inhabitants of the Cape of 
 Good Hope respect it as the ancient Egyptians did their Ibis ; its 
 nest and e^s. ."it;:;. 
 
 Shoultlfr*. high in sickly persons ; people dying are seen with 
 their shoulders drawn up ; shoulders in women narrower than in 
 men, 147, 1-K 
 
 Showers, shower of hail in 1510 ; its description, 110; of stones, 
 fishes, and ivy-berries, raised into the air by tempests in one coun- 
 try, and falling at a distance like rain to astonish another, 114. 
 
 Siberia, the isatis found in this country, and seldom in milder 
 climates. 326 ; the sable resembling the martin found in it, 336 ; 
 enormous tusks found lodged in the sandy banks of its rivers. 424. 
 
 .s/.<; /*.. in what manner produced; when invigorated produce 
 sobbing, 144. 
 
 Sight, of old men indistinct for bodies close to them, but more 
 
 and darts on it with unerring aim, 450 ; of birds that prey by day, 
 astonishingly quick, and in such as ravage by night, so fitted as to 
 discern objects in darkness with precision, 471. 
 
 Signs of death, uncertainty 01 them ought to make every one 
 cautious of giving up a friend as dead, and exposing him to real 
 death, or a premature interment, 177. 
 
 Silks, brought to Jamaica, and there exposed to the air, rot 
 while they preserve their colour ; but kept from air, retain their 
 strength and gloss, 92. 
 
 Silk Miiinijnrlurrs. established in Europe, in the beginning of 
 the twelfth century, by Roger of Sicily, 707. 
 
 Silkworm, the most serviceable of all such creatures, 733 ; its 
 real history unknown among the Romans to the time of Justinian, 
 and supposed only brought into Europe in the twelfth century : two 
 methods of breeding them ; Pausanias's description of this worm ; 
 changes its skin in three weeks or a month ; gummy fluid forming 
 the threads ; preparations made before spinning the web : the cone 
 or ball of silk described ; efforts to burst the cone ; free from con- 
 finement, it neither flies nor eats ; few of these animals suffered to 
 come to a state of maturitv. and why. 706 to 799. 
 
 SHnrun, the sheath-fish, of the prickly finned abdominal kind, 649. 
 
 Simeon, said to have lived a hundred and twelve vears, 155. 
 
 S:m ws of the rein-deer, the strongest kind of sewing thread, 225. 
 
 birttrlf. name of the tail of the stag '^>'2. 
 
 S/.-7, in. singing bird of the sparrow-kind, with a thick and short 
 bill, ">:(7. 
 
 Size of men varies considerably ; the human bodv often differs 
 from itself ; the same person taller in the morning than at night; 
 sometimes the difference is an inch : this first perceived in England 
 by a recruiting officer ; men are tall from five feet eight inches to 
 ix feet high ; middle size from five feet to five feet eight, 14(1 ; Maxi- 
 min. the' empenn. above nine feet in height. 151 ; approaching to- 
 wards the north pole, the natives diminish proportionably, growing 
 loss and less in higher la,! .Hides, 179. 
 
 Skilrton of th bat, in some measure, resembles that of man, 
 tilO ; of the elephant, some lately discovered of an enormous size, 
 on the banks of the Ohio, in America. 425. 
 
 Skin, the only pnrt. of the body that ajre does not harden : whence 
 its wrinkles proceed, 174 ; of the rein-deer, 277; of the tiger, 300 ; 
 of the black fox, .325; most valuable part of the martin's skin ; of 
 all, that of the sable most coveted, and held in highest esteem, the 
 fur surpassing all, 336; of the civet, 341 ; of the ondatra also very 
 valuable, 367 ; of the mole, 372 ; of the hedgehog, 374 ; of the ele- 
 phant, 420 ; of the rhinoceros, 425 ; of the ostrich, 465 ; of the 
 great Greenland whale, t>J7, 
 
 Skiiil-. an animal called one of the polecats of America, 338. 
 
 Skull-Ji.ih, name of the whale above two years old, 618. 
 
 .S' ailn ft.', in Iceland, (in the lands of) there stood a declivity, nd 
 the earth of it was found sliding down the hill upon the subjacent 
 plain, 47. 
 
 Sleep, with some of the lower animals, takes up the greatest part 
 of their lives ; man the only creature requiring sleep from doubla 
 motives, for the refreshment of the mental and of the bodily frame; 
 want of it produces madness ; procured to man with more difficulty 
 than to other animals ; in what manner sleep fetters us for hours 
 together, according to Rohault ; bodily labour demands a less quan- 
 tity of it than mental ; the famous Philip Barretier slept twelve 
 hours in the twenty-four ; numberless instances of persons, who, 
 asleep, performed many ordinary duties of their calling ; and, with 
 ridiculous industry, completed by night what they failed doing by 
 day ; remarkable instance related in the German Ephemerides. 
 See Arlolto, 155, 156. 
 
 Sloth, two different kinds of that animal, the ai and the unan ; 
 both seem the meanest and most ill-formed of all animals that chew 
 the cud ; formed by nature to climb ; they get up a tree with pain, 
 but utterly unable to descend, drop from the branches to the ground ; 
 strip a tree of its verdure in less than a fortnight, afterwards de- 
 vour the bark, and in a short time kill what mignt prove their sup- 
 port; every step taken, sends forth a plaintive melancholy cry; 
 like birds, have but one vent for propagation, excrement, and 
 urine ; their look piteous, to move compassion, accompanied with 
 tears, that dissuade injuring so wretched a being ; one fastened by its 
 feet to a pole, suspended across two beams, remained forty days 
 without meat, drink, or sleep ; an amazing instance of strength in 
 the feet instanced, 442 to 444. 
 
 Slot, term for the print of the hoof of the stag. 262. 
 
 Slow, name given by some to the blind worm, 740. 
 
 Smell, the musky not properly a characteristic mark of any kind 
 of animal, 240 ; none more permanent than musk, 255 ; strong of- 
 fensive smell of foxes often the cause of their death, 322 ; ot the 
 genet, not endured by mice and rats, 340. 
 
 Smelling, Bramins of India have a power of smelling equal to 
 what is in other creatures ; can smell the water they drink, to us 
 quite inodorous ; negroes of the Antilles by smell distinguish the 
 footsteps of a Frenchman from those of a negro ; gives often false 
 intelligence ; natives of different countries, or different natives of 
 the same, differ widely in that sense ; instances of it ; mixtures of 
 bodies void of odour produce powerful smells ; a slight cold blunts 
 all smelling ; smallest changes in man make great alterations in 
 this sense, 169 ; delicacy of tmelling in birds instanced in ducks, 451. 
 See Senses. 
 
 Smile. Fielding asserts, a person with a steady glavering smile, 
 never failed to prove himself a rogue, 145. 
 
 Snail (Garden) is surprisingly fitted for the life it is to live ; or- 
 gans of life it possesses in common with animals ; and what pecu- 
 liar to itself; every snail at once male and female ; and while it 
 impregnates another, is impregnated in turn ; coupling of these 
 animals ; possessed of the power of mending the shell ; and come 
 to full growth they cannot make a new one ; Swammerdam's ex- 
 periment to this purpose ; salt destroys them, so does soot ; con- 
 tinue in a torpid state during the severity of winter ; so great their 
 multiplication in some years, that gardeners imagine they burst 
 from the earth ; wet seasons favourable to their production ; .sea 
 snail, fresh-water snail, and land snail ; common garden snail com- 
 pared with the fresh-water snail and sea snail ; fresh-water snail 
 brings forth young alive, with shells upon their backs ; at all timos 
 of the year, fresh-water snails open, are pregnant with eggs, or 
 with living snails, or with both together ; sea snails found vivipa- 
 rous, others lay eggs ; manner in which the sea snails impregnate 
 each other ; different orifices or verges of snails ; the difference be- 
 tween land and sea snails ; of the trochus kind, have no mouth } 
 their trunk ; are among snails, as the tiger, the eagle, or the shark, 
 among beasts, birds, and fishes ; food of all sea snails lies at the bot- 
 tom ; of sea snails, that most frequently swimming upon the surface, 
 whose shell is thinnest, and most easily pierced, is the nautilus; 
 its description ; peculiarity by which the nautilus is most distin- 
 guished, 631 to 687. 
 
 Snail-sea, a cartilaginous fish, described, 643. 
 
 Snake (black) its description and food ; are oviparous, 740. See 
 Serpents. 
 
 Sni/ie, a water-bird of passage : its description, 574, 575. 
 
 Snow, inhabitants of places where fields are continually white 
 with snow, generally become blind before their usual course of ma- 
 ture, 5. 
 
 Snow-slips, a family in Germany lived for a fortnight beneath 
 one 47. 
 
48 
 
 SPO 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 STI 
 
 Sobbing is a sigh still more invigorated, 144. 
 
 Soland goose,, 582. See Bass and Gannet. 
 
 Soldier-crab, 663. See Crab. 
 
 Solfatara, a valley near Naples ; exhibits the appearance of an 
 earthquake, 36. 
 
 Soot, as well as salt, will destroy snails, 683. 
 
 Sore, name the hunters give the buck the fourth year, 3GG. 
 
 Sorel, the hunter's name for the buck the third year, 3G(>. 
 
 Sound convej'ed by air is lost in vacuo, 96 ; sounding bodies of 
 two kinds, unelastic returning a single sound, and elastic render- 
 ing a succession of sounds ; laws of the reflection of sound not so 
 well understood as those of light ; persons of a bad ear oft deceived 
 as to the side whence sound comes ; trumpets made to increase 
 sounds, 1G7. 
 
 Source, rivers have their source in mountains, or elevated lakes, 
 59. 
 
 Southminster marshes over-run with an army of mice, 491. 
 
 Spalanzani, his experiments concerning the power of reproduc- 
 tions in animals, 831. 
 
 Spaniards, the only people 'in Europe acquainted with the value 
 of the ass, 226. 
 
 Spaniels, land and water, the offspring of the beagle, transported 
 into Spain or Barbary, so altered, and converted there ; a dog of 
 the generous kind; the land-spaniel; the water-spaniel, 311,312. 
 
 Spanish flics, described ; their use in medicine, and as blisters. 
 See Cantharides, 822. 
 
 Sparrows, house sparrow ; various birds of the sparrow kind ; 
 their food ; songsters of this class ; their migrations, 537, 538 ; a 
 male and its mate, that have young, destroy above three thousand 
 caterpillars in a week, 794. 
 
 Sparrow-hawk, one of the baser race of hawks, 482 ; taught to 
 fly at game, but little obtained from its efforts ; lately asserted. 
 upon respectable authority, the boldest of all for the pleasures of 
 the chase, 486. 
 
 Sparus, the sea-bream, its description, 648. 
 
 Spawn, different seasons for fish to deposit their spawn, 612. 
 
 Spawning, peculiar preparation of the lamprey for spawning, 
 638. 
 
 Spears (burning') a peculiar kind of aurora borealis, 113. 
 
 Spears, the horns of the stag the third year, 262. 
 
 Spermaceti, the whole oil of the cachalot easily converted into 
 that concrete ; efficacy of spermaceti in medicine very small. (324. 
 
 Spermaceti whale, the cachalot, described, 623. 
 
 Spiders, in South America and Africa, as large as sparrows, 120 ; 
 the spider for several months together subsists upon a single meal, 
 153; chief of our native spiders not venomous; Martinico spi- 
 der's body as large as a hen's egg ; manner of making their webs; 
 Lister has distinguished the sexes of tins animal ; experiment made 
 by Mr. Reaumur to turn their labours to the advantage of man ; 
 gloves made from their webs ; found it impracticable to rear them, 
 747 to 751. 
 
 Spiders (water) inhabit the bottom, yet never wet, but enclosed 
 in a bubble of air surrounding them on all sides, 7.~>l . 
 
 Spinal marrow and the brain, the parts first seen begun in the 
 embryo, 159. 
 
 Spinous class of fishes already extended to four hundred sorts, 
 646 ; Gouan's system and arrangement of the various sorts of 
 spinous fishes, 047 ; their general leading marks and difference 
 from others, 651. 
 
 Spirits of wine flame with a candle, not with a spark, 24. 
 
 Spitzbergen, bodies never corrupt there, though buried for 30 
 years, 195. 
 
 Sponges, opinion of count Marsigli and others about them ; that 
 of Rumph and Jussien set in a clearer light by Mr. Ellis, 837. 
 
 Spoonbill, descriptions of the European and American spoonbill, 
 563. 
 
 Sports, one peculiar to the Italians, in which horses without 
 riders run against each other, 217 ; remarkable on horseback, 
 among the grandees of Guinea. 22 ; of wild asses exhibited in 
 Persia, 224 ; of the bird-catchers counterfeiting the cry of the 
 owl, 490 ; of hunting the turkey in Canada, 499. See Cock, 494. 
 
 Spouts of water at sea common in the tropical seas, and some- 
 ' times in our own ; description of one in the Mediterranean by 
 Tournefort; solutions offered for this phenomenon ; those called 
 typhons, sometimes seen at land, differ from those at sea described 
 by mariners ; description of that observed at Hatfield in Yorkshire, 
 in 1687 ; land-spouts sometimes drop in a column of water at once 
 upon the earth, and produce an inundation ; they appear in the 
 calmest weather at sea; facts still wanting to form a rational 
 theory of them, 114, 115. 
 
 Spoutlwles in the cetaceous tribe, described, G14. 
 
 Springs of water, experience alone can determine the useful or 
 noxious qualities of every spring, 50 ; one mentioned by Derham, 
 which he never perceived to diminish in the greatest drought, 
 i when all ponds in the country were dry for several months, 5ti. 
 
 Squash. See Polecat. See Stinkard, 338. 
 
 Sgv.int.ing, instances of squinting communicated by a father to 
 his offspring, 185. 
 
 Squirrel, a ruminating animal, 232 ; classed as such by Pieiius, 
 294 ; the kind has as many varieties as any wild animal ; enumera- 
 tion of some ; its way of moving is by bounds ; few animals so 
 tender, or so unfit for a change of abode ; some live on the tops of 
 trees, others feed on vegetables below, where also they take shel- 
 ter in storms ; description of its qualities, food, and mansion ; the 
 martin destroys the squirrel, then takes possession of its mansion, 
 351 to 353. 
 
 Squirrels. Nature particular in the formation of these animals 
 for propagation ; in Lapland vast numbers remove from one part 
 to another; method of crossing broad rivers or extensive lakes; 
 the Laplanders eut their flesh ; description of the common sort, 
 and of the gray Virginian kind; the Barbary; Siberian white; 
 Carolina black; Brazilian; little ground Carolina, and .Yttt: Spain 
 squirrel ; jltfin? squirrel more common in America than in Eu- 
 rope ; its food and mansion, 351 to 354. 
 
 Stag, first in rank among quadrupeds ; its elegant form describ- 
 ed ; no obvious difference between the internal structure of the 
 stag and the bull, but to a nice observer ; ruminates not so easily 
 as the cow or sheep ; reason why ; manner of knowing its age ; 
 differs in size and horns from a fallow-doer ; seldom drinks in 
 winter, and less in spring ; different colours of stags ; of animals, 
 natives of this climate, none have such a beautiful eye as the stag ; 
 horns increase in thickness and height from the second year of age 
 to the eighth ; grow differently in stags from sheep and cows ; stag 
 castrated when'its horns are off, they never grow again ; the same 
 operation performed when they are on, they never full off; one 
 testicle only tied up, he loses the horn of the opposite side ; horns 
 resembled to a vegetable substance, grafted upon the head of the 
 stag ; time of feeling impressions of rut, or desire of copulation ; 
 effects the rut causes ; stag lives about forty years ; voice in the 
 time of rut terrible ; and then keeps dogs off intrepidly ; a stag and 
 a tiger enclosed in the sa.me area, the stag's defence so bold, the 
 tiger was obliged to fly ; the slug in rut ventures out to sea from 
 one island to another, and swims best when fattest, 257 to 260 ; 
 the hind, rr female, uses all her arts to conceal her young from 
 him. the most dangerous of her pursuers; stag remaining wild in 
 England, called red-door, found on moors bordering on Cornwall 
 and Devonshire ; different names given them according to their 
 ages ; terms used by hunters pursuing the stag ; the manner of 
 knowing the track of a stag, and that of a hind; he changes his 
 manner of feeding every month ; in what manner; swims against 
 the stream ; the ancient manner of pursuing him ; that, of hunting 
 him ; and in China ; stag of Corsica ; a kind called by the ancients 
 tre arlnphus ; Germans call it bran-deer, or liroicn-dcer ; a beauti- 
 ful stag, thouu-ht a native of Sardinia, though perhaps of Africa or 
 the East-Indies ; its description ; stag royal in Mexico ; of Canada, 
 brought into the state of domestic lameness, as our sheep, goats, 
 and black cattle. 2UO to 2(>5. 
 
 Stiiggaril, name of the stag the fourth year, 2G2. 
 
 Sinl/ioiis, law prohibiting exportation oi stallions and mares, 222. 
 
 Stanislaus, the exiled king of Poland, had a dwarf at his court, 
 189. 
 
 Stare, bird classed with the thrush, distinction from the rest of 
 its tribe ; its residence ; its eggs; it is easily taught to speak; its 
 food, 240. 
 
 Star-fish, general description of the tribe ; are also called sea- 
 nettles ; cut in pieces, every part survives the operation, becoming 
 a perfect animal, endued with its natural rapacity. 832, 833* 
 
 Starling, slender-billed bird of the sparrow kind, living upon in- 
 sects, 537. 
 
 Stars (fitril) supposed by philosophers suns, 2. 
 
 Stars (falling) meteors or unctuous wibstances raised from the 
 earth, 114. 
 
 Statues of antiquity, first copied after the human form, now mo- 
 dels of it, 148. 
 
 Stature, middle in men from five feet five to five feet eight 
 inches, 149 ; Mr. Uerham observes, probably the same now as at 
 the beginning, 192. 
 
 Stellaris, name given by the Latins to the bittern, 5(i3. 
 
 St.eno, his opinion about the formation of the incipient animal, 
 123. 
 
 Stigmata, holes through which caterpillars breathe, 786. _ 
 
 Stickleback, the gasterosteus of the prickly -finned thoracic sort, 
 
SUG 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 TAJ 
 
 49 
 
 description of this fish, 649 ; this fish appears in great quantities 
 every seven or eight years in the river Welland, near Spalding ; a 
 man employed by a farmer to take them, for manuring his grounds, 
 
 got for a considerable time four shillings a-day, selling them at a 
 alfpenny a bushel, 656. 
 
 SlMicon, his two daughters, buried with much finery, found 
 eleven hundred years after in good preservation, excepting the 
 pearls, 692. 
 
 Stinkard, name given by our sailors to one or two animals of the 
 weasel kind, chiefly found in America, 288 ; and by the savages of 
 Canada to the musk-rat, 367. 
 
 Stint, smaller and shorter billed water-bird of the crane kind, 568. 
 
 fitoat, the ermine, its description, 330. 
 
 Stomach, Nature has contracted the stomach of animals of the 
 forest, suitable to their precarious way of living, 153 ; proportioned 
 to the quality of the animal's food, or the ease of obtaining it ; those 
 who chew the cud have four stomachs ; yet several of those have 
 but two in Africa, 207; the camel has a fifth stomach, as a reservoir 
 of water for occasional use, 431 ; birds have properly but one 
 stomach, yet this is different in different kinds, 4. r >2. 
 
 Stork, true difference between it and the crane ; are birds of 
 passage, returning into Europe in March ; the Dutch attentive to 
 the preservation of the stork in their republic, the bird protected 
 by laws and the prejudices of the people ; countries where found ; 
 ancient Egyptians' regard for this bird carried to adoration ; the 
 ancient ibis supposed the same which at present bears the same 
 name, 556, 557. 
 
 Storms, foretold by the barometer ; above their region all is calm 
 and serene; rise to the tops of the highest mountains; confirmed by 
 those who have been on the Andes, and by the deep snows that 
 crown them; with powerful effects, do not show great speed, 
 103, 104; one most dreadful in Herefordshire, in 1697; description 
 of it, 110 ; do not terrify goats, 245. 
 
 Stones, showers of stones raised by storms in one country, carried 
 to another, 114. 
 
 Stone-chatter, slender-billed bird of the sparrow-kind, 537 ; 
 migrates, 538. 
 
 Store, expeditious in bringing the animal in the egg to perfec- 
 tion, 126. 
 
 Strabism, an inequality of sight, and particular cast of the eye ; 
 whence it proceeds, 162. 
 
 Stream of rivers more rapid in proportion as its channel is 
 diminished, and why, 60. 
 
 Strength, a just way of estimating human strength, by perse- 
 verance and agility of motions ; not hereditary ; prodigies of it ; 
 Maximin the emperor described ; instances of it in Milo, and also 
 in Athanatus ; estimation of strength in animals by the bulk of 
 their muscles very fallacious ; thin and raw-boned men being gene- 
 rally stronger and more powerful than those seemingly more mus- 
 cular ; women much inferior in strength to men ; of man less 
 valuable since the invention of gunpowder, of new machines, and 
 the application of the power of animals to the purposes of life ; the 
 comparative strength of a horse, measured, not by what he can 
 carry, but by what he can draw, 150 to 152 ; of the inhabitants 
 round the poles is amazing, 179. 
 
 Stromateus, a soft-finned apodal fish, described, 640. 
 
 Strut/iophaffi, nations so called from their fondness of the flesh 
 of the ostrich, 465. 
 
 Stuffs, made of hair of animals about Angora, 247 ; half com- 
 posed of silk forbid to be worn at home, as a luxurious refine- 
 ment, 796. 
 
 Stunts, name given to whales at the age of two years, 618. 
 
 Sturgeon, a cartilaginous fish, of a considerable size, yet flies ter- 
 rified from the smallest fishes ; its description ; three kinds of it ; 
 the largest caught in Great Britain taken in the Eske, where fre- 
 quently found weighing four hundred and fifty pounds ; live in so- 
 ciety among themselves ; and Gesner has seen them shoal together 
 at the notes of a trumpet ; in the water it is one of the strongest 
 fishes, and often breaks the nets that enclose it ; but its head once 
 raised above water, its activity ceases ; two methods of preparing 
 it ; that from America not so good as from the north of Europe ; 
 caviar made with the roe of all kinds of sturgeon; manner of 
 making it, 640 to 642. 
 
 Sucking-fish, the remora, sticks to the shark ; called the shark's 
 pilot, 631. 
 
 Sucking-fish, the echineis, a soft-finned thoracic fish ; its de- 
 cription, 650. 
 
 Suction, from whence that amazing power in the lamprey 
 irises, 638. 
 
 Sugar, the white sort in the tropical climates sometimes full of 
 maggots, 92. 
 
 NO. 79 & 80. 
 
 Siit/>!iiir. with iron filings kneaded together into a paste, with wa- 
 ter, when heating, produce a flame, 23. 
 
 Hun, mock suns and other meteors seen in the Alps, 42; in tho 
 polar regions, 110; reflected upon opposite! clouds, appear lika 
 three or lour real suns in the firmament ; real sun always readily 
 known by superior brightness ; the rainbow also different in thosa 
 countries, 112; not easy to conceive how it whitens wax and linen, 
 and darkens the human complexion. 184. 
 
 *iiiii-j!stt, an anomalous cartilaginous fish, like a bulky head, 
 643. 
 
 Surf of the am, name the mariners give waves, breaking against 
 the shore, 80. 
 
 rat, the phalangcr, a small monkey, described, 415. 
 
 Surinam tuail. iht: pip:il, a hideous toad ; its description, 707. 
 Surmal 
 creature, 
 
 Surmalot. with Mr 
 
 [)ip:il. a h 
 . Buft'ou, 
 
 the great rat, a hateful rapacious 
 
 Titittlrt. the mullus. a spinous fish ; its description, 648. 
 
 Niralloifs. time of their migrations; departure of some, and re- 
 treat of others into old walls, from the inclemencies of winter, 
 wrap the migrations of birds in great obscurity, 458 ; experiment 
 of Mr. Buffon to this purpose, ib. ; with us birds of passage ; breed 
 in Upper Egypt and the land of Java, and never disappear, 538 ; 
 hiiuxi-fifalluu- ; characteristics of the swallow tribe ; at the end of 
 September they depart ; those migrating first seen in Africa, in 
 the beginning of October, having performed their journey in seven 
 days ; sometimes seen, interrupted by contrary winds, wavering in 
 their course at sea. and lighting upon the ships in their passage ; a 
 doubt whether all swallows thus migrate, or some others of thin 
 species externally alike, and internally different, be differently af- 
 fected by the approach of winter ; observations made to this pur- 
 pose by Reaumur, Frisch, and Klein ; Chinese pluck their nests 
 from rocks, and send great numbers into the East-Indies for sale ; 
 gluttons esteem them great delicacies, dissolved in chicken or mut- 
 ton broth ; the number of their eggs, 546 to 548. 
 
 Swallow of Ternate, or God's bird, the bird of paradise, described, 
 523. 
 
 Swammerdam lent attention to testaceous animals, almost ex- 
 ceeding credibility, 681. 
 
 Su-an, a stately web-footed water-fowl ; doubt whether the tame 
 kind be in a state of nature ; none found in Europe ; the wild swan, 
 though strongly resembling it in colour and form, yet another bird ; 
 differences between wild and tame swans ; the tame most silent, 
 the wild has a loud and disagreeable note ; from thence called the 
 hooper ; accounts sufficient to suspend an opinion of its musical 
 abilities ; two months hatching, and a year growing to proper size ; 
 longest in the shell of any bird ; said to live three hundred years ; 
 by an act of Edward IV. the son of the king was allowed to keep a 
 swan, and no others, unless possessed of five marks a year ; pu- 
 nishment for taking their eggs, imprisonment for a year and a day, 
 and a fine at the king's will ; places which abound with them, 593 
 to 505. 
 
 Swarms, (lee-kite) several swarms in the year, the first alwayi 
 the best, 806. 
 
 Sweden, asses a sort of rarity in Sweden, 226. 
 
 Sweetmeats, in tropical climates, exposed by day in the sun, to 
 prevent their putrefying by the night air, 92. 
 
 Swift, a bird of the swallow lund ; peculiar position of the 
 toes, 546. 
 
 Swiftness of sarages, many surprising stories about it, 150. 
 
 Sword-fish, encounters the whale, 619 ; its description, 647, 648. 
 
 Syagushes, carnivorous animals, like the jackal and wolf, hunt in 
 packs, 208. 
 
 Symmetry and proportion of the human body. 140. 
 
 Sympathetic affuction of yawning ; a ridiculous instance of it 
 practised upon professor M'Laurin, at Edinburgh, 144. 
 
 Synuria, a lubricating liquor in the joints, so called by anato- 
 mists, 149. 
 
 Syria, most of its cities destroyed in 1182 by an earthquake, 32. 
 
 System, in what manner the harmony of our planetary system is 
 preserved, 2 ; very useful in natural history ; books containing 
 them, useful to be consulted, but unnecessary to be read ; that of 
 Linnaeus deserves the preference ; faults of systematic writers in 
 natural history, 199, 200 ; what has given birth to the variety of 
 systems in natural history, 202. See tjuuun, 047. 
 
 T. 
 
 TMies, streaked cats, to which the civet's colour is com- 
 pared, 341. 
 
 Tujucu. See Peccary, 282. 
 
50 
 
 THE 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 TOC 
 
 Tails of sheep a foot broad, and weighing from twenty to thirty 
 pounds, sometimes supported by a board upon wheels, 244. 
 
 Talapoin, eighth division of monkeys of the ancient continent, 
 411. 
 
 Talons, in what manner produced in animals, 147. 
 
 Tamain, a monkey of the second sort of the sagoin kind ; descrip- 
 tion, 412. 
 
 Tamandua, an ant-bear, larger and smaller, lives upon ants, 441. 
 
 Tamis-bird, one of the names of the Guinea-hen, described, 503. 
 
 Tanais, a principal river in Europe, parting it from Asia, 61. 
 
 Tanrec, of the hedge-hog kind, different enough to constitute 
 another species ; covered with prickles, though mixed with hair ; 
 only found in the East Indies ; Indians consider its flesh a deli- 
 cacy, 375. 
 
 Tapeti, the Brasilia!! rabbit. See Rabbit, 349. 
 
 'In/iir, the largest animal of America, not comparable to the ele- 
 phant of Africa in size, 211 , considered as the hippopotamus of the 
 new continent ; its description, 439. 
 
 Tar used by the Laplanders for all disorders of the rein-deer, 
 277. 
 
 Tarantula, the bite of this animal, and its cure by music, all a 
 deception ; instance of it, 16b' ; native of Apulia in Italy ; descrip- 
 tion, 751. 
 
 Tarcel, name falconers give the male bird of prey; and why, 
 472. 
 
 Tariguag-ua, ruggedness of road from it up to the Andes, 43. 
 
 Tarnassar, great bird in the East Indies, no other than the con- 
 dor, 478. 
 
 Tarsier, a monkey, last of the class of the oppossum kinds, 415. 
 
 Tartars, their religion consists in part by managing their whis- 
 kers ; they waged a bloody war with the Persians as intidels, for 
 not giving the whiskers the orthodox cut, 145, 146; Samoeid, first 
 distinct race of men round the pole, described, 178; the Ostiac, a 
 face travelled down from the north, and originally sprung from mi- 
 nute savages, 1 79. 
 
 Tartary comprehends great part of Asia ; natives and manners, 
 179, 180. 
 
 Taste, in all substances, on mountain tops, and valley bottoms. 
 98 ; to determine somewhat upon the nature of tastes, bodies to be 
 tasted must be moistened, or dissolved by saliva, to produce a sen- 
 sation ; the tongue and body to be tasted, being dry, no taste en- 
 sues ; relish of tastes stronger in children than in persons advanced 
 in life, 170. 
 
 Tatou, or armadillo, a quadruped ; covered with shells, 380. 
 
 Tatu-apara, first of the kinds of the armadillo ; the second, the 
 tatou of Ray, or the encoubert of Buffon ; the third, the tatuette ; 
 their diversities described, 382. 
 
 Teal, smallest bird of the duck-kind distinguished, 598. 
 
 Teats, great variety of them in animals; their form, and how 
 placed, 147. 
 
 Teeth- in cows, eight cutting teeth in their lower jaw, 234. 
 
 Teeth, coloured, the passion for them in China and Japan ; in 
 some parts of India black teeth desired with ardour, 140 ; teeth of 
 animals various ; how formed in man, 147 ; of the elephant, shed 
 like horns of deer, or obtained, after death, not yet known ; natives 
 of Africa find them in their forests ; of the narwhale surpass ivory ; 
 ascribed to a different animal ; curiosity, and the desire of scarce 
 things, made them very valuable a century ago, 622 ; the white 
 uliark is said to have one hundred and forty-four teeth, 629. 
 
 Tegg, what the hunters call the doe the second year, 266. 
 
 TejafuaKU, tockey, and cordyle, all of the lizard kind, gradually 
 less, fill up the chasm between the crocodile and the African iguana, 
 720. 
 
 Tempests, loudest formed by united contributions of minerals, 
 vegetables, and animals, increasing the streams of air fleeting round 
 the globe, 99 ; frequent under the tropics, and a space beyond them, 
 104; in Arabia and Africa described, 106. 
 
 Tencriffe (the peak of) a mile and a half perpendicular from the 
 sea, 45. 
 
 Ttndrac, an animal less than a mole, different from the hedge- 
 hog, and a different species ; description ; grunt like hogs, and love 
 lo be near water. 374. 
 
 Ternate, a Molucca island, its swallow taken for the bird of para- 
 dise, 523. 
 
 Terrier, first division of dogs of the generous kind, used for 
 hunting, 312. 
 
 Testaceous substances on the tops of mountains, and in the heart 
 f marble, 6. 
 
 Thales. the philosopher, held all things made of water, 49. 
 
 Thames water, and that of the Indus, most light and wholesome, 50. 
 
 Thtoritt of the earth, those of the must celebrated authors, 7. 
 
 Theory of evaporation, for the formation of clouds, 107, 108; 
 other theories upon that subject; theory of sympathy, of Father 
 Malbranche, beautiful upon monstrous productions, 187. 
 
 Tkerasia, an island, appeared unexpectedly to mariners, 37. 
 
 Thermomeier measures heat and cold by a fixed standard; de- 
 scription, 52. 
 
 Theutys, a prickly-finned abdominal fish, description of it, 649. 
 
 Thibet, the musk from thence reckoned the best ; sells at 14s. the 
 ounce, 266 ; the peacock there the most beautiful of the feathered 
 creation, 498. 
 
 Thoracic fsh, that which has the ventral fins directly under the 
 pectoral fins, 647. 
 
 Throat of the great Greenland whale is so narrow, that any ani- 
 mal larger than a herring could not enter, 618 ; but that of the 
 cachalot can with great ease swallow an ox, 623 ; that of the shark 
 most amazing, 629 
 
 Thrush, & slender-billed bird of the sparrow kind, 537 ; its distinc- 
 tion from all of the kind ; its song very fine ; the largest of the 
 kind with a musical voice ; its food, 539. 
 
 Thumb-footed shell-fish, testaceous, described, 694. 
 
 Thunder, (j'lloa heard it rolling beneath him, when upon the 
 Andes, 44 ; its cloud always moves against the wind, 103 ; a sound 
 produced by the opposition of two clouds, and continued by rever- 
 berated echo ; thunder clears the air and kills insects noxious te 
 vegetation. 109. 
 
 Thyroid cartilage forms a lump upon the wind-pipe in men, not 
 seen in women. 147. 
 
 Ttdes, with Pliny, were influenced partly by the sun, and in a 
 greater degree by the moon ; Kepler first conjectured attraction the 
 principal cause of them ; the precise manner discovered by Newton ; 
 high tides happen at the same time, on opposite sides of the globe, 
 where waters are fa.rthest from the moon ; solar and lunar tides ; 
 greatest in siziges, least in quadratures; flows strongest in narrow- 
 est places ; Mediterranean, Baltic, and Black Sea, no sensible 
 tides, the gulf of Venice excepted. and why ; higher in the torrid 
 zone, than in the rest of the ocean ; greatest in the river Indus, 
 rising thirty feet ; remarkably high on the coasts of Malay, in the 
 straits of Sunda, the Red Sea, the gulf of St. Lawrence, along the 
 coast of China and Japan, at Panama, and in the gulf of Bengal ; 
 those at Tonquin most remarkable in the world ; one tide and one 
 ebb, in twenty-four hours ; twice in each month no tide at all ; in 
 the straits of Magellan it rises twenty feet, flows six hours, and the 
 ebb lasts but two hours, 73 to 76. 
 
 Tiger leaps twenty feet at a spring, 208 ; defeated by a stag, 260; 
 taught to defend herds, 288 ; attacks the lion, 295 ; often bigger 
 than the lion ; nothing tames it ; perfectly resembles the cat ; three 
 sorts in Sunda Rajah's dominions ; the royal tiger carries a buffalo 
 over its shoulder to its den ; said to follow the rhinoceros for its 
 excrements ; other tales about it ; under Augustus, a tiger an ex- 
 traordinary sight: the species scarce ; opinion of Varro, that it was 
 never taken alive ; the ancients commended it for beauty among 
 quadrupeds, equal to that of the peacock among birds ; supposed to 
 bring forth four or five young at a time ; expresses his resentment 
 at the lion ; the skin esteemed in the east, particularly in China ; 
 battle of one tiger and three elephants at Siam described ; another 
 between a crocodile ; the red tiger, Mr. Buffon's cougar ; common 
 in Guinea, Brasil, Paraguay, and other parts of South America ; 
 the flesh superior to mutton, 297 to 302 ; and esteemed by the ne- 
 groes as a dainty, 315. 
 
 Tiger-cat, or cat-a-mountain, a beautiful animal of its kind, 304. 
 
 Tigris, a great river in Asia, lost under mount Taurus, 66. 
 
 Tingitanians, and Egyptians, famous for fine horses, 218. 
 
 Tf.pula (water} of the second order of insects ; description of it, 779. 
 
 Tipu'.a, long-legged gnat, description of this insect, 825. 
 
 Titmouse, a slender-billed bird of the sparrow kind, 537. 
 
 Toad, some bigger than ducks, 120 ; their flesh is a delicacy oft 
 the coast of Guinea, 315 ; differences between the frog and it, as to 
 figure and conformation, 6!)7 ; their nature, appetites, and food ; 
 coupling ; difficulty in bringing forth; curious particulars relating 
 to this animal ; one swallowing a bee alive, the stomach stung, and 
 the insect vomited up again ; toads not venomous ; accounts of 
 toads taken inwardly ; difficult to be killed ; lives for centuries in a 
 rock, or within an oak, without access, nourishment, or air, and 
 yet found alive and perfect ; accounts of this ; toads suck cancer- 
 ous breasts, and perform a cure ; progress of this operation ; the ru- 
 beth, the land toad, alone has the property of sucking ; doubtful 
 whether they die by internal or external application of the can- 
 cerous matter ; description of the Surinam toad, called pipal, 702 
 to 707. 
 
 Toeuco, sort of cry, given as a name in Canada to the flamingo, 
 566. 
 
TRE 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 TUS 
 
 51 
 
 Tots, usually four in all animals of the poultry kind ; in a species 
 of cock amount to five, 494. 
 
 Tone, a continuing tone produced from a non-elastic body, re- 
 peatimr blows quick and often ; of a sonorous body made to depend 
 upon the number of vibrations, not the impelling force, is mistaking 
 an effect for a cause ; half tones rejected in all countries where mu- 
 sic is in its infancy, as in China, lb'4, 165. 
 
 Toitgres, a city in the county of Liege formerly encompassed by 
 the sea, and at present thirty-five leagues distant from it, 81. 
 
 Tt/iiguc of tlio rein-deer a great delicacy, 277 ; the flamingo's 
 much celebrated, and larger than that of any bird, 566 ; of the great 
 Greenland whale, fills several hogsheads witli blubber, (517. 
 
 Tonquln, tides there the most remarkable in the world, 76. 
 
 Tornado, a formidable tempest, so called by the Spaniards, 10G. 
 
 Ti>r/ifdo, its description; by an unaccountable puwer, the instant 
 touched even with a stick, when immediately taken out of the s,r;i, 
 it numbs the hand and arm, or whole body ; the shock resemblns an 
 elentiical stroke; sudden, tingling, and painful; accounts by 
 Kcmpfer of numbness produced by it; he believes holding in the 
 breith prevents the violence; implicit belief of eliicucy would be 
 painfully undeceived ; this power not exerted upon every occasion ; 
 trials by Reaumur to this purpose ; opinions concerning the cause 
 of this strange effect; the fish dead, the power destroyed, then 
 handled or eaten with security ; the power not extended to the de- 
 gree some believe, reaching fishermen at the end of a line, or 
 numbing fishes in the same pond ; ridiculous excess of this numbing 
 quality in the history of Abyssinia, by Godignus ; Lorenzini, from 
 experiments, is convinced the power resides in two thin muscles of 
 tile back ; several fishes have acquired the name of the torpedo, 
 possessed of the sa e quality ; Moore's and Condamine's accounts 
 of them. 635 to 637. 
 
 Tortoise ranked among crustaceous fishes, though superior to 
 them all ; amphibious, according to Seba ; distinguished into two 
 classes, the land tortoise, and the sea turtle ; differ more in habits 
 than conformation ; description ; principal distinctions ; varieties 
 are, trunk-turtle, loggerhead, hawks-bill, and green turtle ; all gene- 
 rally found in warm countries, without retiring; the shell never 
 changes, and growing with the body, is formed in pieces; a defence 
 against dangerous attacks; the blood warm and red; how circulat- 
 ed ; turtle larger than tortoise ; weighs from filly to five hundred 
 pounds ; ancients speak of some of amazing sizes ; live to 80 and 
 120 years ; can live without limbs, head, or brain, proved by ex- 
 periments of Rhedi ; moves with great Weight upon it ; hears dis- 
 tinctly by means of an auditory conduit opening into the mouth; 
 sighs when ill situated, and sheds tears when distressed ; torpid 
 during winter, sleeping in some cave, and breathing imperceptibly; 
 account of a land-tortoise caught in a canal at Amst.ordaiu ; and of 
 a turtle in the Loire, in 1729 ; the food chiefly vegetables, though 
 believed to eat insects, snails, and bugs, 069 to G76. 
 
 Toucan, a bird of the pie kind, has a bill as large as its body ; of 
 five varieties ; the red-beaked described ; its food ; has birds, men, 
 monkeys, and serpents, to guard against ; scoops out its nest into 
 the hollow of some tree ; leaves scarce room to go in and out, and 
 with its great beak guards that entrance ; found only in the warm 
 parts of South Amurica, where it is valued for its tender and 
 nourishing flesh, and the beauty of its plumage, particularly tbe 
 breast, the skin of which the Indians dry, and glue to their ciiceks 
 for beauty, 518, 519. 
 
 Tiiucli, those parts of the body most exercised in touching, ac- 
 quire the greatest accuracy ; the fingers, by long habit, not Irom a 
 greater quantity of nerves, become masters in the art. 170. 
 
 Tuurne/ort describes a spout seen in the Mediterranean, 114. 
 
 Trnckinus. the weaver, a prickly-finned jugular fish, described, 648. 
 
 Tracldpttrus, the sabre, a prickly-finned thoracic fish ; its de- 
 scription, 649. 
 
 Track of a stag, manner of knowing it, and that of a hind, 262. 
 
 TrairfJiiphus. n;mie of the stag with the ancients, 264. 
 
 TIH/IS for horses, used by the Arabians for the wild sort, 216 ; for 
 wild ayses, ust^d in the Archipelago, 224. 
 
 Treacle, food for bees during winter, when robbed of their 
 honey, 803. 
 
 Trees ( fossil) in the body of solid rocks, and deep under the 
 earlh upon which they once grew ; conjectures upon this subject, 
 14 ; found in quantities at the mouth of the river Ness in Flanders, 
 at the depth of fifty feet, 62 ; laying twenty feet deep under ground 
 for many ages, become hard and^ough, prooi's of alternate over- 
 flowings and desertions of the sea, 83 ; usually of the largest kinds 
 in wild uncultivated w'.ldernesH, in the state of rude nature, 121 ; 
 the banana and plantain, so immense, as to be inimically inhabited 
 by monkeys, snakes, and birds of the most delightful plumage, 021 ; 
 age known by the number of their circles, 6 12. 
 
 TrrmMnj. first discovered in the polypus the power of repro- 
 duction, 831. 
 
 Tric/iurus, a prickly-finned apodal fish, of a sword-like form, 647. 
 
 Trig/a, the gurnard, of a spiuous kind ; description of this fisb, 
 648. 
 
 Trochus. See Sea-snail. 
 
 Troglodyte of Bontius, is the ouran-outang, or wild man of tb* 
 woods, 399. 
 
 Troglodytes, the mountain of that name in Arabia, has a passaga 
 made through it by a disruption, as if artificial, 46. 
 
 Tropical .w/.*. under them, and for a good space beyond, tempest* 
 are frequent, and their effects anticipated, 1U4 ; are those in which 
 spouts are seen very commonly, 114 ; tropics supposed by Linneeus 
 the native spot of man. and the northern climates only places of 
 sojourning for them ; an argument sufficient to prove the contrary, 
 157 ; the climates so hot. tbe dogs in process of time lose the deli- 
 cacy of thoir scent entirely, and why, 305. 
 
 'j'rti in fifty, increase sounds in the same manner as the telescope 
 does bodies ; persons hard of hearing find the same advantage iu 
 the trumpet made for this purpose, that short-sighted persons do 
 from glasses ; were they farther enlarged, they could be used to 
 advantage only in a plane of solitude and stillness, as the multitude 
 of sounds would produce tumult and confusion, 167. 
 
 Trunks of animals, that of the elephant described, 418 ; that of 
 the gnat may justly be deemed one of Nature's master-pieces, 625. 
 
 Trutrcn, the fire-Mitre, the enchantress Circe armed her son with 
 a spear headed with the spine of this fish, 635. 
 
 Tubes of glass, drawn as tine as a hair, still preserve their hollow 
 within. 56. 
 
 Tubular vessels, discovered by Fallopius, and called his tubes, 
 12)!. 
 
 Tufted duck, a variety of the kind, native of Europe, 598. 
 
 Tumble-dung, a strong beetle, remarkable for make and man 
 ners, 821. 
 
 Tumbler, in the division of Dr. Caius, a dog of the first chss, or 
 generous kind ; supposed the lurcher, and described, 312. 
 
 Tiirliinutrd shells are univalves, and the first kind of Aristotle's 
 divisions, 679. 
 
 Turbits, variety of the tame pigeons, obtained by cross breed, 
 532. 
 
 Turuots (OH.// rays) extremely delicate in their choice of baits ; a 
 piece of herring or haddock, twelve hours out of the sea, and used 
 as a bait, will not be touched, 634. 
 
 Turkey, bird of the poultry kind ; its native country disputed ; 
 arguments for the old and new continent ; first seen in France in 
 the reign of Francis I. and in England in the reign of Henry VIII.; 
 its tenderness with us ; when young, argues not for our climate ; in 
 the wild state, hardy and numerous in the snowy forests of Canada ; 
 also larger and more beautiful than in the domestic state ; the 
 savages weave the feathers into cloaks, and fashion them into fans 
 and umbrellas ; hunting the turkey a principal diversion with 
 them, its flesh chiefly supporting their families ; manner of hunting ; 
 the cock's antipathy to red ; manner of increasing their animosity 
 for diversion ; the female gentler, and particularly fond of eggs of 
 ants and caterpillars ; Inys eighteen or twenty eggs ; the young 
 very tender at first ; the hen's care of her young at the sight of a 
 bird of prey ; in Norfolk weigh thirty pounds ; in the East Indies 
 grow to weigh sixty pounds. 499, 500. 
 
 Turkey, in Asia, lias in different parts horses of almost all races, 
 219 ; lions found to diminish in number in this country, 292. 
 
 Turnings of rivers, more numerous as they approach the sea, be- 
 come indications through trackless lands ; the bends increasing, 
 form different channels and mouths into the sea, as the Danube. 
 Nile, Wolira, 60. 
 
 Turnspit, a dog of the mongrel kind. 312. 
 
 Turnfloitr, a small bird of the crane kind, 568. 
 
 Turtte-dore, one of the ruminating birds, '332. See Pigeon. 
 
 Turtle, prepares for laying, and deposits her eggs in the sand, 
 where in twenty-six days they are hatched by the sun ; lays from 
 1511 to 200 in the season ; the young run by instinct into the sea, 
 ignorant of all danger ; propagated on shore only ; conies from sea 
 on purpose in coupling season; female is passive and reluctant; 
 the male is slow, but grasps so fast nothing can loose the hold. G75. 
 
 Tusks, those of a boar sometimes a foot long, 279 ; of the baby- 
 rotti'^sa a fine ivory, smoother a.nd whiter than the elephant's, but 
 not so hard ; of enormous size, 2^6 ; of castrated animals scarce ap- 
 pear without the lips ; those of a boar broken, abate his fierceness 
 and venery ; producing nearly the same effect as castration, ib. ; of 
 the mammoth weigh four hundred pounds ; those of the elephant 
 from Africa, two hundred and fifty ; some remarkable lately found 
 near the Ohio, and Miume, in America; Dr. Hunter thinks them 
 
 6M* 
 
VIP 
 
 LNDEX. 
 
 VUL 
 
 of a larger animal than the elephant, 425 ; of the uarwhale,or sea- 
 unicorn, a cetaceous fish witli teeth, from nine to fourteen feet 
 long, 621. 
 
 Twins, never, while infants, so large or strong as children that 
 come singly into the world, and why, 132. 
 
 Typhons, spouts so called seen at land ; differ in several re- 
 spects from those at sea, 115. 
 
 Tyson, (Dr.) his description of an ouran-outang, by the name 
 of pigmy, the best and most exact. See Ouran-outang, 400. 
 
 V. 
 
 Valerian, a plant of which cats are excessively fond, 290. 
 
 Valle, (Pietro) his description of Persian horses, 219. 
 
 Vampyre, a foreign bat having the reputed faculty of drawing 
 blood from persons asleep, and thus destroying them before they 
 awake. See Bat, 385. 
 
 Vansire, a sort of ferret of Madagascar, according to Mr. Buffon, 
 333. 
 
 Vapour of metals in mines not BO noxious as those of substan- 
 ces with which ores are usually united, such as arsenic, cinnabar, 
 &c. ; fragrance of their smell ; warnings about them, 23 ; disen- 
 gaged from water, and attenuated, ascends into the atmosphere, 
 where condensed and acquiring weight as it rolls, falls down in a 
 chape suitable to the temperature of its elevation, 108 ; most fcetid, 
 breathed from the jaws of the wolf, 322. 
 
 Varetiius, his opinion upon the formation of rivers, 58. 
 
 Vurl. a kind of maki, last of the monkey kind, its description, 41 3. 
 
 Vault, go to vault, phrase used by hunters when the hare enters 
 holes like the rabbit, 347. 
 
 Vegetables, vegetable earth ; the bed of it, in an inhabited coun- 
 try, must be always diminishing, and why, 16; plant with a round bul- 
 bous head, which, when dried, becomes of amazing elasticity, grows 
 near the extremity of that region, on mountains where continual 
 enow reigns, 44 ; like fluids and mineral substances, produce air in 
 a copious manner, 93 ; totally unprotected, and exposed to every 
 assailant, 119 ; those in a dry and sunny soil, are strong and vi- 
 gorous, not luxuriant ; and those the joint product of heat and mois- 
 ture, are luxuriant and tender ; different kinds appropriated to dif- 
 ferent appetites of animals, and why ; birds distribute the seeds of 
 vegetables where they fly ; vegetables cover the bottom of many 
 parts of the sea, 120 ; but few noxious ; that life as much promoted 
 by human industry, as animal life is diminished, 122 ; the ass gives 
 
 some pus; 
 
 difference between animal and vegetable life, difficult, if not impos- 
 sible, to answer, 82H ; not possessed of one power which animals 
 have, the actual ability, or awkward attempt at selt-preservation, 
 ib. ; thse called marine grow to a monstrous size, 833. 
 
 Vfifettttion anticipated in its progress by bees, 803. 
 
 Velino, a river in Italy, has a cataract of 150 feet perpendicular 
 in height, 65. 
 
 Velocity, not alone the actuating force of winds, but also the de- 
 gree of density, 104. 
 
 Velrrt-like downy substance upon the skin covering the skull, 
 when the horn of a deer is fallen off, 257. 
 
 Velvet-duck, a variety of the common duck, a native of the Eu- 
 ropean dominions, 598. 
 
 Venery, partridges immoderately addicted to it, to an unnatural 
 degree, 508. 
 
 Venom, given to the fire-flare by Pliny, ^Elian, and Oppian, in a 
 degree to affect the inanimate creation ; many reasons to doubt of 
 it, 035. 
 
 Vrnus. See Jfose, 140. See Fart, 192. 
 
 Verges, or orifices of the snails, are two, one active, the other 
 passive. ii>5. 
 
 Vtrmia, hospitals erected by the Bramins in India for the main- 
 tenance of all kinds of vermin, 1st ; less found with asses, than 
 with other animals covered with hair, 22ii. 
 
 Vertigo, in gonts. produced by an immoderate cold, 246. 
 
 Vesuvius, its eruptions, the most remarkable described by Valet- 
 ta; account of another by bishop Berkeley, 27 to 29. 
 
 Vibrations. See Tone, 164. 
 
 Vineta., a port of Pomerania, overflowed and destroyed by the 
 Baltic, 82. 
 
 Violet-crab of the Caribbee islands, most noted for shape, deli- 
 cacv of flesh, and singularity of manners, 665, 666. 
 
 Viuer. most vivacious of reptiles ; experiment on a viper in the 
 receiver of the air-pump, by Mr. Boyle, 93 ; kept in boxes for six 
 or eight mouths, without any food ; iU progressive motion, 72y ; 
 
 the only animal in Great Britain, whose bite is feared ; do not de- 
 vour their young ; their food ; by the application of olive oil, the 
 bite ot the viper effectually cured ; who first discovered this reme- 
 dy ; effects of the viper's bite, 735, 736. 
 
 Vinton, its errors ; objects represented upside down and double ; 
 the point without sensation ; and want of measure for distance, 
 159, 160. 
 
 Viviparous and oviparous animals, the two classes for generation 
 and production ; all other modes held imaginary and erroneous, 
 125 ; the bl.'nny, a spinous fish, brings forth two or three hundred 
 young at a time, alive and playing around their parent, 612. 
 
 Ukraine, the cattle there become very fat, and considered the 
 largest of all Europe, 2M. 
 
 Dltoa, his description of South America, of Cotopaxi, of Quito, 
 of the Andes, and a volcano, 29. 
 
 Umvuital vessels, those of the placenta to the foetus, 131. 
 
 I/rum, one of the two kinds of the sloth, an animal about tlw 
 size of a badger, 442. 
 
 Underhung, expression among painters, meaning a prominent 
 under-jaw, 144. 
 
 i'tulcrstaiiiling, comparative progress of it ; greater in infanta 
 than in children of three or lour years old, 136. 
 
 Unduiations, in elastic bodies supposed by the ear one continued 
 sound, though in reality many, 164. 
 
 Unicorn, of the sea. a whale with teeth in the upper-jaw ; its 
 description, 349. See ffarwhaie. 
 
 Lnicalve shells, first division by Aristotle, as to figure, 679. 
 
 Volcano, opinions of philosophers and ignorant men about it; 
 three very remarkable in Europe, 26 ; Albouras most famous in 
 Asia ; one in the island of Ternate ; in the Molucca islands, in 
 Japan, in Java and Sumatra, in the Cape de Verde islands, the 
 peak iu Teneriffe, and also in America, 29 ; marine ones not very 
 frequent, and why, 38. 
 
 Uranoscopns, a prickly-finned apodal fish ; description of it, 646. 
 
 Urchins, or echini, a multivalve shell-fish ; manner of exhibiting 
 this extraordinary animal in every light ; its description ; some 
 kinds as good eating as the lobster, and its eggs considered as a 
 great delicacy, 693, 094. 
 
 Urinary passages, effects of the cantharides falling principally 
 upon them, 822. 
 
 Urine of animals found efficacious in some disorders, 250 ; of the 
 lion insupportable, 295 ; of camels, an ingredient in sal ammoniac, 
 432 ; of birds differ from that of other animals, 452. 
 
 Urson or Hudson, of the hedgehog kind, a native of Hudson's 
 bay ; its description ; sleeps much, and feeds upon the bark of 
 juniper ; in winter, snow serves it as drink, and in summer it laps 
 water like a dog ; 377. 
 
 Urus and bison in fact descendants of one common stock, and 
 naturalists assigning them different classes, have separated what is 
 really united ; this wild bull chiefly met with in Lithuania ; de- 
 scription of it ; generally taken by pit-falls ; the breed chiefly oc- 
 cupies the cold and temperate zones, 235, 236. 
 
 Vulture kind, vulture and dog, about Grand Cairo in Egypt, 
 keep together in a sociable friendly manner, and bring up their 
 young in the same nest, 317 ; its distinctive marks from other 
 kinds of carnivorous birds ; the flesh liked, and dress for eating, 
 according to Bellonius, 472 ; of Senegal, said to carry off children, 
 probably no other than the condor, 478 ; seldom attacks living 
 annuals when supplied with dead, 479 ; description of the golden 
 vulture, ib. 
 
 Vulture, bird ot' prey, next in rank to the eagle, less generous 
 and buld. 47U , countries where found ; unknown in England ; flocks 
 of them near Grand Cairo, not permitted to be destroyed, as they 
 devour all the filth and carrion there ; in company with wild dogs, 
 tear and devour together without quarrelling; wonderful method 
 of separating the flesli from the bones, and leaving the skin entire ; 
 smell carrion from afar ; follow those that hunt for skins alone, 
 and so voraciously fill theuisi'lves as merely to waddle, and to want 
 disgorging belbre they fly away ; are little apprehensive of danger, 
 and allow themselves to be approached ; an eagle falling in upon 
 their meals, keeps them at a distance till he be satiated ; an ox 
 returning home alone, lying down by the way, becomes their prey, 
 and is devoured alive ; attempt oxen grazing ; destroy lambs, and 
 feed much upon serpents, rabbits, hares, and what game they can 
 overpower; also demolish whole .broods of crocodiles; lay two 
 eggs at a time, and produce but once a year ; make nests in inac- 
 cessible cliffs and remotest places; their flfsh, lean, stringy, nau- 
 seous, tasting and smelling of carrion ; the down of their wing 
 makes a pretty kind of fur, commonly sold in Asiatic markets, 
 479 to 481. 
 
 Vultures, (King of) description of this bird, 461. 
 
WEA 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 win 
 
 w. 
 
 Wulfischoas, whales' provender, insects floating in clusters on 
 the surface of the sea, and called Medusa by Linnsjus, 619. 
 
 Walnut-trees, with walnuts on the stern, leaves, and branches, in 
 exact preservation, found at twenty-six feet depth round the city 
 of Modena in Italy, 83. 
 
 Wandcroui, a baboon, less than the mandril: its description, 
 406. 
 
 ll'itnnp, doff of the monirrel kind, in the third division of Dr. 
 Ca:us. 313. 
 
 Warbling of birds, so loud and various in modulation, not easily 
 to be accounted for, 451. 
 
 Warine, the Brazilian guariba, largest of the monkey kind in 
 America, 4 12. 
 
 Waree, hog of the isthmus of Darien, described by Wafer, 286. 
 
 Wasps, ruminating insects, or seemingly such, 232 ; their de- 
 scription itnd habits; their habitation scarcely completed when the 
 inhabitant dies ; have two or three hundred queens in a hive ; their 
 nest a most curious object ; the social wasps gather no honey them- 
 selves, though fond ot sweets ; fierce battles with the bees, who 
 make up by conduct and numbers the deficiency of prowess ; their 
 depredations ; where found, other flies desert the place ; live but 
 one season ; cannot endure winter ; before new-year they wither 
 and die, having butchered thnir young ; in every nest one or two 
 females survive ; impregnated the preceding season, she begins in 
 spring to lay eggs ; and before June produces ten thousand young, 
 which are nursed and fed by her atone ; solitary wasp, its manners ; 
 provisions made for the young at leaving the egg ; the provisions 
 arranged and laid in, the old one closes the hole and dies ; the 
 young leaving the egg are scarcely visible ; how the life of the 
 young is spent ; wasps of Europe innocent compared to those of 
 the tropical climates ; description of those of the West Indies, and 
 their habits ; pains of their sting insupportable, more terrible than 
 that of a scorpion, the part swells, and people are so disfigured as 
 scarce to be known, 809 to 8) II. 
 
 Water, its parts infinitely small ; driven through the pores of 
 gold ; penetrating through all substances, except glass ; enter the 
 composition of all bodies, vegetable, animal, and fossil ; birds, 
 beasts, fishes, insects, trees, and vegetables, with their parts, have 
 growth from it, and by putrefaction become water ; gives all other 
 bodies firmness and durability ; a phial, hermetically sealed, kept 
 fifty years, deposed no sediment, and continued transparent ; 
 gathered after a thunder-clap, in sultry weather, deposits a real 
 salt ; spring water collected from the air ; of river waters, the 
 Indus and the Thames otter the most light and wholesome ; light- 
 ness, and not transparency, the test of purity ; purest waters distil- 
 led from snow on tops of highest mountains ; different kinds, and 
 adapted to different constitutions ; very transparent ; fresh-water 
 at sea, putrefies twice, sometimes thrice, in a voyage; a month at 
 sea, sends up a noisome and dangerous vapour, wliich takes fire 
 from a flame ; elementary water not compounded is ice kept in 
 fusion ; dilates in bulk by cold ; confirmed by experiments, 48 to 
 5'J ; very compressible and elastic; made to resemble air; a drop 
 of water converted into steam, capable of raising twenty ton 
 weight ; keeps its surface level and even ; a single quart sufficient 
 to burst a hogshead, and how, 52 to 55 ; water of the sea heavier 
 and more buoyant than fresh-water, 71. 
 
 ll'ittfr-spoiits burst from the sea, and join mists immediately 
 above them, 110 ; most surprising phenomena, dreadful to ma- 
 riners, and astonishing to observers of nature ; common in the 
 tropical seas, sometimes in our own ; description of those seen by 
 Tournefort in the Mediterranean, 114; solutions offered for this 
 surprising phenomenon, 115. 
 
 IViiter-icngtoil . slender-billed bird of the sparrow kind. 537. 
 
 Wtivts, their luminous appearance in the night, and the cause, 
 72. 73. 
 
 Wax, the first fifteen days the bees make more wax than during 
 the rest of the vear. H06 ; of two k-ndd gathered by common bees ; 
 ti) it. produced by black bees in tropical climated only used for 
 medicinal purposes, being too soft for candles, as in Europe, r07. 
 
 Weasel, a small carnivorous animal ; mark*, common to the kind ; 
 th'-s" differ from the cat kind in the formation :md disposition of 
 cirri's, : differ from the dog kind in a clothing of fur rattier than 
 hair: one of the species is like all the rest ; this the smallest of tiie 
 whole kind ; its description ; untame'ible and uritntctable ; hides 
 and sleeps three parts of the day, and sallies forth for prey in the 
 evening ; attacks animals much above its own size ; catches rats 
 and aice better than cats ; also small birds ; destroys youn<* poul- 
 try, and svicks the eggs ; so nimbly runs up high A-ills, no place is 
 secure from it , in cultivated lands, it thing the number of hurtful 
 
 vermin ; never cries but when struck ; all the kind have gland* 
 near the anus, secreting a substance fcetid in some, and a perfumo 
 in others; this most offensive in summer, and insufferable when ir- 
 ritated ; one sort in America is by sailors called the stinkard ; con- 
 fined to a cage, is ever in uneasy agitations ; must have leave to 
 hide itself; eats only by stealth, and will not touch the foou until it 
 begins to putrefy ; the female makes an easy bed for her young, and 
 generally brings forth from three to five at a time, and with closed 
 eyes; account of a weasel's forming her nest, and bringing forth 
 her young, in the putrid carcass of a wolf; the white ermine found 
 in Great Britain is called the white weasel ; its fur among us of no 
 value, 328, 329 ; of the weasel kind, the martin most pleasing, 334 ; 
 the boldest and most useful of all is the ichneumon, 337. See 
 Stinkard, 338. 
 
 Weather, the moist alone prevents evaporation, 108. 
 
 Weathercocks, often erroneous with Derham in regard to upper 
 regions, 103. 
 
 Weever, the trachinus, a prickly-finned jugular fish, its descrip- 
 tion, 648; the sting given by its back-fin is poisonous, 660. 
 
 Weed, floating over great tracts of the sea, serve as sustenance 
 for many fish, bearing similitude with such vegetables, 120. 
 
 Weight of the human body often found to differ from itself; in- 
 stances of it ; the difference often amounts to a pound, or sometimes 
 to a pound and a half; not easy to conceive whence this adventi- 
 tious weight is derived ; the porters of Constantinople carry burdens 
 of nine hundred pounds weight ; a man able to raise a weight of 
 two thousand pounds ; a horse will not carry upon his back above 
 two or three hundred pounds; whence this seeming superiority 
 comes, 149. 
 
 H'fll, burning, at Brosely, now stopped, had a fire-damp in it, 
 which would kindle with the flame of a candle, 55 ; some continue 
 full, neither affected by rain or droughts, 83. 
 
 Wetland, river near Spalding, has amazing shoals of sticklebacks, 
 656. 
 
 Wert (Sfbald} a traveller, confirms the existence of giants, on a 
 coast of South America, towards the straits of Magellan, 19 J. 
 
 Whale, the largest animal known ; no precise anatomy of this 
 fish yet given ; two centuries ago, they were described two hun- 
 dred and fifty feet long; Biscayneers practised the whale-fishery 
 near Greenland soon after the year 1300; seven different kinds 
 distinguished by external figure or internal conformation ; are gre- 
 garious animals ; make migrations from one ocean to another, and 
 generally resort whore they have the least dinturbance ; great 
 Greenland whale ; its description ; from sixty to seventy feet long ; 
 the head one-third of its bulk, its hearing is acute ; breathes air at 
 the surface of the water, and cannot remain under it like other 
 fishes ; it blows loudly through the spout-holes, and most fiercely 
 when wounded ; whalebone different from the bones of the body ; 
 the fins are from five to eight feet long ; the throat is narrow ; 
 nothing larger than a herring can be swallowed ; the tail, its only 
 weapon of defence, is twenty-four feet broad, and strikes hard blows; 
 one seen by Ray marbled, with the figures 122 distinctly marked 
 upon it ; the blubber and other parts turn out to very good account ; 
 the flesh palatable to some nations; the female and male keep 
 much together ; their fidelity exceeds that of birds ; do not cross 
 breeds ; she goes with young nine months, is then fatter than at 
 other times ; produces two breasts and teats at pleasure ; suckles 
 her young a year, and how ; is very tender of them ; defends them 
 fiercely when pursued; instance of it; dives with them, and comes 
 up soon to give them breath ; during the first year called short- 
 heads, and then yields fifty barrels of blubber; at two years they 
 are called stunts, and after that skull-fish ; the food of this animal 
 an insect called medusa by Linntcus, and walfischoas by the Ice- 
 landers ; pursues no other fish, and is inoffensive in its element ; 
 the whale-louse, of the shell-fish kind, sticks to its body as to 
 the foul bottom of a ship, gets under the fins, and eats through the 
 skin into the fat; the sword-fUh affrights the whale, avoids the 
 stroke of its tail, bounds upon its back, and cuts into it with tlie 
 toothed edges of its bill ; the killer, a cetaceous fish of great 
 st.remrth, with powerful teeth, beset the whale as dogs do a bull, 
 teiir it down, and then devour only its tongue ; old manner of taiing 
 the whale ; improvements hinted. 614 to 621. 
 
 Whale (Spr.rma.ceti.) See CarkuJut. 
 
 Wheat and currants, swallowed whole, indigestible to man. 460. 
 
 Wheat-ear, a short-billed bird of the sparrow kind, thought 
 foreign, 537. 
 
 Wk'm-r.hat, a slender-billed bird of the sparrow kind, 537. 
 
 Whip-sntike, a very venomous serpent of the East, is five feet 
 long, and its bite kills in six hours time ; happy preservation from 
 one of them, 738. 
 
 Whirlpool, the ceutial point always Jowcrt, and why, 60 ; man- 
 
54 
 
 WIN 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 WOM 
 
 ner in which it is formed, 78; those of the ocean particularly dan- 
 gerous ; extraordinary one upon the coasts of Norway, called the 
 Maelstroom, 78, 79. 
 
 Whirlwind, the most rapid formed by united contributions of 
 minerals, vegetables, and animals, increasing the current of 
 air, 99. 
 
 Whiskers, a man without them formerly considered as unfit for 
 company in Spain ; Nature denying, Art supplied the deficiency ; a 
 Spanish General borrowing money of the Venetians, pawned his 
 whiskers, and took care to release them ; part of the religion of the 
 Tartars consists in the management of their whiskers, and they 
 waged war with the Persians as infidels, whose whiskers had not 
 the orthodox cut ; the kings of Persia wore them matted with gold 
 thread, and the kings of France, of the first races, had them knotted 
 and buttoned with gold, 145. 
 
 Whiston, his reasoning concerning the theory of the earth. 8, 9 ; 
 finds water enough in the tail of a comet for the universal de- 
 luge, 10. 
 
 White, the natural colour of man, all other tints proceed from 
 greater or lesser heat of climate ; among the white races of people, 
 our own country bids fairest for pre-eminence, J64. 
 
 White-bait, shoals appear near Greenwich in July, G56. 
 
 White-nose, the moustoc, monkey of the ancii-nt continent, a 
 beautiful little animal ; its description ; a native of the Gold Coast, 
 411. 
 
 White-throat, a slender-billed bird of the sparrow kind, living 
 upon insects, 537. 
 
 Widgeon, a variety of the European duck, described, but best 
 known by its whistling sound, 5!'5. 
 
 Wild man of the woods. See Ouran-outunir, 399. 
 
 Wind, a current of air ; artificial ; causes assigned for the variety, 
 activity, continual change, and uncertain duration of it ; in what 
 manner to ibretel the certainty of a wind, as the return of an eclipse ; 
 to account for variations of wind upon land, not at present expucted ; 
 recourse to be had to the ocean, and why ; in many parts of the 
 world the wind pays stated visits; in some places they blow uno 
 way by day, and another by night; in others, for one half-year they 
 go in a direction contrary to their former course ; in some places 
 the winds never change ; the wind which never varies is the great 
 universal wind, blowing from the east to the west, in all extensive 
 oceans, where the land does not break the general current ; thi- 
 other winds are deviations of its current ; many theories explain 
 the motion of the winds; that of Dr. Lyster ; theory of Cartusius ; 
 Dr. Halley's more plausible, 99, 100. 
 
 // tiida (Trade) blow from the poles towards the equator ; wore 
 the surface of the globe sea, the winds would be constant, and blow 
 iii one direction ; various circumstances break its current, and drive 
 it back against its general course, forcing it upon coasts that face 
 the west ; want of a true system of trade winds, supplied by an im- 
 perfect history of them ; north wind prevails during October, No- 
 vember, December, and January, in the Atlantic, under the tempe- 
 rate zone ; north wind reigns during the winter in Nova Zembla, 
 and other arctic countries; south wind prevails during July in the 
 Cape de Verd Islands ; north-west wind blows during September at 
 the Cape of Good Hope ; regular winds produced by various causes 
 upon land ; ancient Greeks first observed them ; in general, 
 wherever a strong current of water, there is a wind to attend it ; 
 regular winds produced by the flux and reflux of the sea ; winds 
 vailed monsoons ; some peculiar to certain coasts ; south wind con- 
 stant upon those of Chili and Peru ; other winds peculiar to various 
 coasts, 100 to 102. 
 
 Winds at land puff by intervals, and why ; not so at sea ; east 
 wind more constant than any other, and generally most powerful ; 
 wind blowing one way and clouds moving another, forerunners of 
 thunder ; cause of this surprising appearance remains a secret ; 
 from sea, generally moister than those over tracts of land ; more 
 boisterous in spring and autumn than at other seasons ; their force 
 does not depend upon velocity alone, but also upon density ; re- 
 flected from sides of mountains and towers, often more powerful 
 than in direct progression ; raise sandy deserts in one country, to 
 deposit them upon some other ; south winds in summer so hot in 
 Egypt as almost to stop respiration, and produce epidemic disorders, 
 continuing for any length of time ; deadly along the coasts of the 
 Persian Gulf, and of India; assume a visible form, 103 to 105. 
 
 Wind-pipe in men has a lump not seen in women, 147 ; makes 
 convolutions within a bird, and is called the labyrinth, this dif- 
 ference obtains in birds seemingly of the same species, 451 ; strange 
 in the throat of the crane, 554 ; of the bittern, 562 ; in the wild 
 swan, 594. 
 
 Wings of birds, their description ; bastard wing, 449 ; flap of a 
 swan's wing breaks a man's leg ; a similar blow from an eagle lays 
 
 a man dead instantly, 450 ; of butterflies, distinguish them from 
 flies of other kinds; their number and beautiful colours, 791. 
 
 Winter beginning round the poles, the misty appearance of heat 
 in southern climates is there produced by cold, 1 13. 
 
 Wistiti, a monkey of the sagoin kind, remarkable for the tufts of 
 hair upon its face, and its annulatcd tail, 412. 
 
 H'olga, its length ; abounds with water in May and June ; at 
 other times very shallow ; the English disappointed in a trade into 
 Persia through it, 61 ; receives thirty-three lesser rivers in its course. 
 04 ; and has seventy openings into the Caspian sea, 39. 
 
 Wolf, wild dogs partake of the disposition of the wolf; the wolf 
 t;iken young is gontle only while a cub; as it grows older, discovers 
 its natural appetite of rapine and cruelty, 309 ; experiments prove 
 neither wolf nor fox of the same nature with the dog, but each a 
 distinct species, 315 ; a fierce, strong, cunning, carnivorous quadru- 
 ped, externally and internally so nearly resembling the dog, they 
 seem modelled alike, yet have a perfect antipathy to each other ^ 
 description of the wolf; principal distinction from the dog is the eye, 
 which opens slantingly upwards in the same direction with the 
 nose ; also the tail is long, bushy, hanging lank ; the wolf lives about 
 twenty years ; it is not much with those of his kind, yet hunts in 
 packs with them ; quarrelling, they devour each other ; is watchful 
 and easily waked ; supplied with water, lives four or five days with- 
 out food ; carries off a sheep without touching the ground, and runs 
 with it swifter than his pursuers ; smells a carcass at a great dis- 
 tance ; leaving the wood, goes out against the wind ; particularly 
 fond of human flesh ; follow armies, and arrive in numbers upon a 
 field of battle ; two or tiiree wolves keep a province for a time in 
 continual alarm ; distinguished by huntsmen into young, old, and 
 ijriiat wolf : manner of hunting them ; young dogs shudder at their 
 sight; the wolf killed, no dogs show an appotite to enjoy their vic- 
 tory : the flesh so very indifferent, no creature eats it but the kind 
 itself; breathe a most fetid vapour from their jaws; often die of 
 hunger after running mad by furious agitations ; season for coupling 
 lasts but fifteen days ; no strong attachment appears between male 
 and female ; sek each other only once aycar ; couple in winter, several 
 males then follow one female, dispute cruelly, growl, and tear each 
 othrr. and sometimes kill that preferred by the female ; she flies 
 from all with the chosen when the rest are asleep ; males pass from 
 one female to another; time of pregnancy about three months and 
 a half; couple lik.- tiir dor;, and the separation hindered by the same 
 eansw ; bring forth from five to six, or nine at a litter ; the cubs 
 brought forth with eyes closed ; young wolves play with hares or 
 birds brought by their dams, and end by killing them ; able to en- 
 gender when two years old; France, Spain, and Italy, much infested 
 with them ; England, Ireland, and Scotland, happily free ; King 
 Edgar first attempted to rid this kingdom, and in what manner ; 
 Edward I. issued a mandate to Peter Corbet for the destruction of 
 them ; some quite black, some white all over ; found in Asia, Africa, 
 and America; in the East trained up for show, taught to dance and 
 play tricks ; one thus educated sells for four or five hundred crowns ; 
 in Lapland the wolf never altacks a rein-deer when haltered ; wolves 
 of North America used in hunting; caught in pit-falls ; a wolf, a 
 friar, and a woman, taken in one the same night, 317 to fi2^. 
 
 Wolf, (Giililm) the Latin name for the Jackal, 325. 
 
 Woif-jia/i, the anarbicas ; a soft-filmed apodal fish ; its description, 
 649. 
 
 Womb, history of the child in the womb, 129 to 132 ; of the hare 
 divided in two, as a double organ, one side of which may be filled, 
 while the other remains empty, 346; description of the false womb 
 of the oppossum, 414. 
 
 Women, some continue pregnant a month beyond the usual time ; 
 those of Africa deliver themselves, and are well a few hours after, 
 132 ; in barbarous countries, the laborious duties of life thrown upon 
 the women ; the chief and only aim of an Asiatic is possession of 
 many women ; instance, in our own country, of a fine woman .nar- 
 ried to an eunuch; a principal employment of those of Thibet, is 
 reddening the teeth with herbs, and making their hair white, 138, 
 139; the body arrives at perfection sooner than in men ; the persons 
 of women as complete at twenty as those of men at thirty, 141 ; less 
 apt to become bald than men ; Mr. Buffon thinks they never become 
 bald ; there are too many instances to the contrary, 142; lower 
 eyelids drawn downwards when with child ; the corners of the 
 mouth also ; then likewise high shouldered ; circumstances under 
 which the midwifes call them all mouth and eyes, 148 ; the shoulders 
 narrower, and the neck proportionably longer than in men, ib. ; first 
 impulse of savage nature confirms women's slavery ; the next of half 
 barbarous nations, appropriates their beauty ; and that of the per- 
 fectly polite engages their affections, 152; the bones, cartilages, 
 muscles, and other parts of the body, softer than in men ; a woman 
 of sixty has a better chance than a man of that age to live to eighty ; 
 
WRE 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 20R 
 
 55 
 
 women longer in growing old lhan men, 205 ; in the polar regions 
 as <i". H-.ned as the men, 178; women of India described; marry 
 and consummate at eight, nine, or ten years old, and have children 
 at thai age ; cease bearing before the age of thirty ; those of savage 
 nations in a great measure exempt from painful labours, 181 ; after 
 a catalogue jf deformities, Linnfeus puts down the slender waists of 
 women in Europe, by strait lacing destroying their health, through 
 a mistaken notion of improving their beauty, 16 ; remarkable in- 
 stance of the power of imagination upon the fffitus, Io7. 
 
 tt'oods, in Britain, cut down by the Romans, and for what rea- 
 son, ^4. 
 
 Woodcock, or cock of the wood, of the grouse kind ; places 
 which this bird inhabits ; how distinguished from the other birds 
 of the poultry kind ; the delicacy of its flesh ; its food and habitation ; 
 amorous desires first felt in spring ; keeps to the place where he 
 first courts, and continues till the trees have their leaves, and the 
 forest is in bloom ; its cry, clapping of wings, and ridiculous pos- 
 tures in this season ; during which the females, attending his call, 
 are impregnated ; sportsmen use this time to fire at them, and take 
 many irhile thus tame, though at others it is most timorous and 
 watchful ; the female much less than her mate, and so unlike him in 
 plumage, she might be mistaken for another species; number and 
 size of the eggs ; she hatches them without the cock, and when 
 obliged to Ie;ive them in quest of food, so covers them with moss 
 or leaves, it is difficult to find them ; she is then extremely tame 
 and qniet ; keeps her nest, though attempted to be driven away ; 
 the young being hatched, they run with agility after the mother, 
 though scarcely disengaged from the shell ; their food ant's eggs, 
 and wild mountain berries ; older, they feed upon the tops of 
 hether, and cones of pine-trees ; are hardy; the clutching time 
 over, the young males forsake the mother, keep together til! 
 spring, when the first genial access sets them at variance for ever ; 
 fight each other like garne-cocks, and easily fall a prey to the 
 fowler, 505 to 507. 
 
 Woo'lrock, bird of the crane kind ; its dimensions, food, 568. 
 
 H'uttiUhut , a rapacious bird ; third kind of the butcher bird, 487. 
 
 Wood/oust, its description ; has three varieties, 758. 
 
 Woodpecker, of this bird are many kinds and varieties in each ; 
 general characteristics ; description of the green woodpecker, or 
 woodspite ; called the rain-fuivl in some parts; its food; its 
 tongue, the instrument for killing and procuring food ; want that 
 intestine which anatomists call the ccecum ; in what manner they 
 make nests, and how delicate in the choice ; number of eggs ; 
 nests in warmer regions of Guinea and Brasil ; little woodpecker, 
 called by the natives of Brasil /riiirntein<;ii, 519 to 521. 
 
 Wuvdward, his essay towards a natural history ; detail of it, 8. 
 
 Wool, the Spanish finer than ours ; but in weight not comparable 
 to that of Lincoln or Warwickshire ; some Spanish wool required 
 to work up with it, 243. 
 
 Worms of different kinds infest each species of fish, 659 ; sea- 
 worms make the shells of fishes their food, 681 ; within the body 
 of the caterpillar, devour its entrails without destroying its life, 
 795. 
 
 Worm (blind) of the serpent kind ; lies torpid all winter, 796. 
 
 If or ii> ( froth) an insect in that sort of substance on the surface 
 of plants, 779. 
 
 Worm kind, general description of the earth-worm, 829. 
 
 Wrasse, the labrus, of the prickly-finned thoracic kind. 648. 
 
 Wren and golden- crowned wren, slender-billed birds of the spar- 
 row kind, 537; willow wren, a wandering bird of the sparrow 
 kind, 53d. 
 
 Wrinkles, whence those of the body and face proceed, 174. 
 Wryneck, or cuckoo's attendant, a little bird most active in the 
 chase of the young cuckoo, 524. 
 
 Xiphias, or the sword-fish, of the prickly-finned apodal kind, 648. 
 
 Y. 
 
 Yellow-hammer, a small bird of the sparrow kind, 537, 538. 
 Young People sometimes cease growing at fourteen or fifteen, 
 140. 
 
 Z. 
 
 Zealand, inundations there, in which many villages were and 
 remain overflowed, 82. 
 
 Zebra, the most beautiful, but wildest animal ; a native of the 
 southern parts of Africa ; nothing exceeds the delicate regularity 
 of its colour ; description ; watchful and swift ; its speed a pro- 
 verb among Spaniards and Portuguese ; stands better upon its 
 legs than a horse ; in what countries found ; the Portuguese pre- 
 tend to have tamed, and tsent four from Africa to Lisbon, to draw 
 the king's coach ; some sent to Brasil could not be tamed ; Me- 
 rolla asserts when tamed, they are still as estimable for swiftness 
 as beauty ; their noise resembles the confused barking of a mastiff 
 dog ; in two, the author saw, the skin below the jaw, upon the 
 neck, hung loose in a kind of dewlap ; they are easily fed ; ome in 
 England eat bread, meat, and tobacco ; the Emperor of Japan 
 made a present of sixty thousand crowns value, for one received 
 from the governor of Batavia ; the great Mogul gave two thoo- 
 sand ducats for another ; African Ambassadors to the court of Con- 
 stantinople, bring some with them, as presents for the Grand 
 Seignior ; zebra and wild ass of a very different species, 445, 446. 
 
 Zebu, the barbary cow, and the grunting and Siberian cow, are 
 but different races of the bison, 240. 
 
 Zeiran, name of the fourth variety of gazelles, by Mr. Bufton, 
 251. 
 
 Zembla (Nova) north wind reigns there during winter, 101 ; a 
 description of its inhabitants, 178. 
 
 Zens, or doree, of the prickly-finned thoracic kind ; its descrip- 
 tion, 649. 
 
 Zibet, one of the two species of the civet, according to Mr. Buf~ 
 fon ; distinction between them, 340. 
 
 Zone ( Temperate) properly speaking the theatre of natural his- 
 tory, 5. 
 
 Zone (Torrid) in the centre the heat very tolerable, in other 
 places the cold painful ; temperature and advantages of perpetual 
 spring under it, 44 ; lightning there not fatal or dangerous, 111; 
 has the largest quadrupeds ; all fond of the water, 23! I. 
 
 Zoophytes, name of vegetable nature endued with animal life, 
 828 ; first class of zoophytes, 829 ; all the tribe continue to live in 
 separate parts ; one animal by cuttings divided into distinct exist- 
 ences, sometimes into a thousand, 831 ; second class, 832. 
 
 Zorilte, a stinkard of the weasel kind ; resembles the skink ; if 
 smaller, and more beautifully coloured, 338. 
 
DIRECTIONS TO THE BINDER. 
 
 Head of Goldsmith, 
 
 Sheep, 
 
 Lion, Lioness, &c. 
 
 Tigers, . 
 
 Dogs, . 
 
 Porcupines, . . . 
 
 Seals, . . 
 
 Oppossums, . . . 
 
 Hippopotamus, . . . 
 
 Camelopard, . . . 
 
 Camels and Dromedary, 
 
 To face the Title. 
 
 page 241 
 
 . 292 
 
 . 297 
 
 . .307 
 . .375 
 . 392 
 .413 
 . 427 
 . 429 
 . 430 | 
 
 Eagle, &c. 
 
 Bee-Eater, Hoopoe, &c. 
 
 Humming Bird, &c. 
 
 Land-Rail, 
 
 Pelicans, . . 
 
 Phaeton, &c. 
 
 Whales, . 
 
 Porpoise, Dolphin, &c. 
 
 Flounders, 
 
 Serpents, 
 
 473 
 522 
 548 
 572 
 576 
 597 
 616 
 624 
 646 
 723 
 

^80788 
 
 UIOT , //4 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY