The Dog

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

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

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

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

A small breed of

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

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

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

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

  Brown's

p. 425.

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

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

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

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

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

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

the medullary substance proceed certain cords or prolongations, termed

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

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

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

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

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

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

short time since, the following scene took place in a street adjoining Hanover-square. It was an exhibition of a highly interesting character, and worthy to be placed upon record. The editor of the

having heard that a French gentleman (M. Léonard), who had for some time been engaged in instructing two dogs in various performances that required the exercise, not merely of the natural instincts of the animal and the power of imitation, but of a higher intellect, and a degree of reflection and judgment far greater than is commonly developed in the dog; was residing in London, obtained an introduction, and was obligingly favoured by M. Leonard with permission to hold a

with his extraordinary pupils. He thus describes the interview:

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

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

After this introduction, M. Léonard spoke to his dogs in French, in his usual tone, and ordered one of them to walk, the other to lie down, to run, to gallop, halt, crouch, &c., which they performed as promptly and correctly as the most docile children. Then he directed them to go through the usual exercises of the

, which they performed as well as the best-trained ponies at Astley's.

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

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

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

.

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

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

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

This is the faculty of memory; and a most important one it is. Of the

of the

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