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Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2016 
 
 
 https://archive.org/details/instinctdisplayeOOwake_ 
 
INSTINCT DISPLAYED, 
 
 IN A COLLECTION OP 
 
 WELL- A UTHENT1CA TE D FACTS, 
 
 exemplifying 
 
 TIIE EXTRAORDINARY SAGACITY 
 
 OF VARIOUS SPECIES OF 
 
 THE ANIMAL CREATION. 
 
 — — ~ is not the earth, 
 
 With various living creatures, and the air 
 Replenish d, and all these at thy command, 
 
 To come and play before thee? Know’st thou not 
 Their language and their ways ? They also know 
 And reason not contemptibly. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 By PRISCILLA WAKEFIELD. 
 
 LIBRARY of the 
 
 SECOND EDITION. 
 
 dUN »4 1933 
 
 lenten: 
 
 UNiVfchiiilY wf ILLINOIS? 
 
 PRINTED FOR BARTON, HARVEY, AND DAI'.TO.V 
 
 bo. 5a, Graccchurch-Slreet. 
 
» • 
 
 
 ' $ 1 
 
 
 6 . 
 
 
 I 
 
To my Grandsons , 
 
 EDWARD GIBBON WAKEFIELD, 
 
 as a mark of my tender affection , and 
 earnest solicitude to form your taste to 
 every thing that leads to virtue and good- 
 ness. The attributes of the Deity arc 
 displayed in his works, which surround us 
 in every part of the habitable globe; and 
 the deficiency will be curs f we neglect tke 
 opportunities of reading in this volume cf 
 natural religion, which lies open to all 
 mankind , and is written in a universal 
 language. All may observe, end those who 
 
 BARCLAY HEAD. 
 
 2 4 1933 
 
 MY DEAR SOYS, 
 
 Jin avxs, „„ , , * isimn 
 
 OF ILLINOIS* 
 
 I present this little work to you, 
 
 A 
 
Vi 
 
 do , must perceive the existence of a Great 
 Creator, from the consummate wisdom and 
 goodness that is apparent in his designs. 
 Accustom yourselves to see every thing with 
 an accurate eye, and reflect upon what you 
 see; and in the course of a few years you 
 will lay up a fund of knowledge , that will 
 be a treasure in more advanced years, when 
 your time will be engrossed by the necessary 
 occupations of life. 
 
 tVith the warmest wishes for your wel- 
 fare and happiness, 
 
 I am. 
 
 Your affectionate grandmother, 
 
 Priscilla Wakefiel H i 
 
 Tottenham* 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The distinctions between reason and 
 instinct are difficult to ascertain : to de- 
 fine their exact limits has exercised the 
 ingenuity, of the most profound philoso- 
 phers, hitherto without success. Nor 
 can the learned agree as to the nature 
 of that wonderful quality, that guides 
 every creature to take the best means of 
 procuring its own enjoyment, and of pre- 
 serving its species by the most admira- 
 ble care of its progeny. Some degrade 
 this hidden impulse to a mere mechanical 
 operation; whilst others exalt it to a 
 level with reason, that proud prerogative 
 
 of 
 
vm 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 of man. There are, indeed, innumerable 
 gradations of intelligence, as of the other 
 qualities with which the animal kingdom 
 is endowed, in like manner as the dif- 
 ferent orders of beings approach each 
 other so closely, and are so curiously 
 united by links, partaking of the nature 
 of those above and those below, that it 
 requires a discerning eye to know what 
 rank to assign them. Thus, quadrupeds 
 and birds are assimilated to each other 
 by the bat; the inhabitants of the waters 
 to those of the land, by amphibious ani- 
 mals; animals to vegetables, by the leaf 
 insect, and by plants that appear to have 
 sensation; and animate to inanimate, by 
 the oyster, the moluscee, and sea ane- 
 mones. 
 
 Reason and instinct have obvious dif- 
 3 ferences ; 
 
PREFACE, 
 
 i* 
 
 ferences; yet the most intelligent ani- 
 mals, in, some of their actions, approach 
 so near to reason, that it is really sur- 
 prising how small the distinction is. 
 The great and most striking superiority 
 of reason seems to consist in these two 
 points: the capacity of knowing and 
 acknowledging our Creator, and of ren- 
 dering its owner responsible for his 
 conduct. Without investigating further 
 the metaphysical distinctions of reason 
 and instinct, to which I am quite incom- 
 petent, I will proceed to make some 
 apology for the following work. 
 
 The harmonious beauty of creation, 
 and the interesting objects it presents, 
 have been my delight from childhood; 
 and the enjoyments, as well as the ad- 
 vantages, I have recei ved from this taste, 
 
 have 
 
X 
 
 PfiEFACE. 
 
 have made me desirous of communi- 
 cating it to others, by relating a few well- 
 authenticated facts of the exact coinci- 
 dence of the instinctive powers with the 
 necessities of the animal. My friends, 
 aware of my intention, increased the 
 stock of my materials by several curious 
 communications, which I thought more 
 likely to arrest the attention of the 
 young, when combined in the form of 
 letters, than a long string of detached 
 anecdotes, following each other like 
 horses in a team. 
 
 My motive has been to excite atten- 
 tion to the propensities of animals, as a 
 powerful antidote to treating them with 
 cruelty or neglect, so often practised by 
 the ignorant and thoughtless from incon- 
 sideration. Who can observe, without 
 
 admiring 
 
PREFACE, 
 
 xi 
 
 admiring them! Who can admire, 
 without adoring that Power that has so 
 eminently displayed his wisdom and 
 goodness, in the endowments of every 
 inhabitant of this globe, from man to the 
 most minute insect that our microscopes 
 discover! — each created for a certain 
 portion of enjoyment, adapted to its 
 nature; with organs and dispositions so 
 exactly fitted to procure this peculiar 
 enjoyment, that none can doubt its 
 being the work of an all-powerful, in- 
 finitely wise, and benevolent Being, 
 
 Conscious of inability to do justice to 
 so noble a subject, I trust that my good 
 intention will be received with the same 
 indulgence as has been so often mani- 
 fested on former occasions; and if by 
 this small collection of instances of 
 
 animal 
 
PREFACE, 
 
 xa 
 
 animal sagacity, I have added a book 
 of entertainment to the common stock, 
 that neither corrupts the minds, nor 
 vitiates the taste of the rising genera- 
 tion, my endeavours will be well re- 
 warded. 
 
 CONTENTS \ 
 
CONTENTS, 
 
 LETTER I. 
 
 FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY, 
 
 . . PW 
 
 Explaining the cause of her going into the 
 
 country .... 1 
 
 LETTER If. 
 
 FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME, 
 
 With an account of her journey, and her reception 
 at her aunt’s. The poultry-yard and employ- 
 ments 4 
 
 LETTER III. 
 
 FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 
 
 School of Industry. Natural History 
 
 LETTER IV. 
 
 FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Palmer. Instinct Id 
 
 LETTER V. 
 
 FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 
 
 Anthill. Termites ............ «... 42 
 
 LETTER 
 
xii 
 
 CONTENTS, 
 
 LETTER VI. 
 
 FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 
 
 Page 
 
 A disappointment. Magpie’s nest Cowper’s dog 42 
 LETTER VII. 
 
 FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 
 
 An evening’s walk. The sheep and her Iamb. 
 Instincts of sheep, two anecdotes. Gordius 
 Marinus. The two linnets 47 
 
 LETTER VIII. 
 
 FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 
 
 Anecdote of a sparrow. Mr. Craven a sportsman. 
 
 The arts of defence of some animals. The 
 Misses Ormond introduced 58 
 
 LETTER IX, 
 
 FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 
 
 Curious anecdote of two goats. Some properties 
 of the goat. A wedding. Remarks on Mrs. 
 Saville’s character 66 
 
 LETTER X. 
 
 FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 
 
 Bats at the Parsonage. Curious properties of that 
 animal. The miners. Mr. Palmer 76 
 
 LETTER XI. 
 
 FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 
 
 A visit to a sailor’s wife. The sagacity of his dog. 
 
 The dog and the mat. The dog and the knocker. 
 
 Old Gyp. Qualities of dogs, Trim 86 
 
 letter 
 
CONTENTS, 
 
 xiii 
 
 LETTER XII. 
 
 FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 
 
 Pflge 
 
 The Misses Ormond. Two Irish goats. Mons. R. 
 and his dog. The attachment of a dog to a 
 groom. Newfoundland dog - 95 
 
 LETTER XIII. 
 
 FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 
 
 The advantages of letters. Mrs. Saville’s manner 
 of life. Delta. Cats. Earl of Southampton's 
 cat. Sagacious cat. Encrinites * 104 
 
 LETTER XIV. 
 
 FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 
 
 Miss Ormond’s love of dress. Lap-dog. Selfish- 
 ness. Learned ladies. The arrival of a stranger. 
 
 The revenge of a monkey. Hindostan sparrow. 
 Combat of wild beasts at Java 1 14 
 
 LETTER XV. 
 
 FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 
 
 Revenge is seen in many animals. Camels subject 
 to its influence. Natural harmonies. Proper- 
 ties of the camel, compared with the rein-deer. 
 
 A dangerous visitor in Mr. Palmer’s garden. 
 Curious formation of the viper. Fascination. 
 Mouse and viper. Poetical extract. Mr. 
 Palmer’s attachment to his parish. His conduct 
 as a clergyman 
 
 LETTER 
 
CONTENTS* 
 
 ahr 
 
 LETTER XVI. 
 
 FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 
 
 Pagz 
 
 Swiftness of birds, compared with that of quadru- 
 peds. Structure of birds adapted to their excur- 
 sions 133 
 
 LETTER XVII. 
 
 FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 
 
 Migration of birds. Linnet. Hooded crow. 
 Cuckoo. Wryneck. Field-fare. Redwing. Lark. 
 Fly-catcher. Wagtail. Warbler. Curlew. 
 Woodcock. Sandpiper. Plover. Swan. Goose. 
 Duck. Gannet. Swallow. Fish. Insects. Rats. 
 
 An anecdote 139 
 
 LETTER XVIII. 
 
 FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 
 
 Reception after a journey. Isle of Priestbofm. 
 Puffins. Migration of the mountain crab. Dog 
 and thief. Mr. Palmer’s conduct as a magis- 
 trate ... 148 
 
 LETTER XIX. 
 
 FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 
 
 A visit. Beggar and dog. Dog and muzzle. Sa- 
 gacity of a horse. Waterford cat. Sir Henry 
 Mildmay’s pig. Sporting badger. Child and 
 snake 157 
 
 LETTER XX. 
 
 FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 
 
 Remarks on the manner of conferring benefits, and 
 the advantages of a domestic education. Cu- 
 
 rious 
 
Binding 
 12 Library 
 
 JBINDING TICSSr 
 SET dMFLETE 
 SET MCQMELETE 
 
 LOOSELE&F 
 
 BINDING 
 
 A P AMHILBT 
 In envelope 
 
 REPAIR 
 
 Cover 
 
 Spine 
 
 Hinge 
 
 Tom page(s) 
 
 Pocket 
 
 Insert 
 
 L 227 
 
CONTENTS, 
 
 XV 
 Page 
 
 nous discovery of a bird’s nest. The habits of a 
 pair of eagles. Blackbird’s nest 146 
 
 LETTER XXT. 
 
 FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 
 
 A dog defended by a poney. Friendship of ani- 
 mals. Peewit. Miss Seward's cat. Dog and 
 quail. Adoption. Cat and leveret. Cat and 
 puppy. Bitch and whelp. Cat and rat. Mr. 
 Ogle’s badger. Eels of the river Ban. Nature, 
 a source of pleasure to the observant 171 
 
 LETTER XXIf. 
 
 FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 
 
 General remarks on the goodness of God, in pro- 
 viding all creatures with the means of enjoyment 1 79 
 
 LETTER XXI I L 
 
 FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 
 
 Cottager and his dog. Blisson’s attack of a whale. 
 
 Mr. Capel Lotft’s dog. His sensibility and love 
 of music. Dancing horses. Historical record 
 of Macairi’s combat with a dog 183 
 
 LETTER XXIV. 
 
 FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 
 
 The summons to dinner. Extraordinary instance 
 
 of adoption in an American bitch 196 
 
 LETTER 
 
contents* 
 
 XVI 
 
 LETTER XXV. 
 
 FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 
 
 Page 
 
 A remarkable story of a cat. Another of a similar 
 kind. Poultry-yard. Disciplined horse. Rago- 
 ball’s elephants. Mr. Hervey : his elephant. 
 
 The race in general 204 
 
 LETTER XXVI. 
 
 FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 
 
 Animals possess amiable propensities: instanced in 
 the conduct of a bull, a grey linnet, a peacock, 
 and the dog of Ulysses 213 
 
 LETTER XXVir. 
 
 FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 
 
 The power of attachment on an amiable mind. 
 
 Miss Ormond’s foolish ambition. Conjugal af- 
 fection of a monkey. Cubbeer-burr. Sagacity 
 of the monkey tribe. Droll anecdote of one. 
 Lecture on apes 222 
 
 LETTER XXVIII. 
 
 FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 
 
 Hervey, and Charlotte Ormond. Mrs. Saville’s 
 amusements. The harper. Sunday. Cottage 
 washing. Salmon pointer. Salmon Fishery. 
 Poetic description of a luminous ocean. The 
 grateful elephant 241 
 
 LETTER XXIX. 
 
 FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 
 
 Instinctive influence of the senses. Effects of smell. 
 Combat between a tiger and an elephant. Anti- 
 pathies 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 xvii 
 
 Page 
 
 pathies and propensities. Enjoyment a univer- 
 sal gift. Tame tiger. Recognizance in an ele- 
 phant. Elephants capable of sympathy. Their 
 art and resentment. The sisters compared . * . . 248 
 
 LETTER XXX. 
 
 FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY, 
 
 Mrs. Savi lie. Charles Davis and his dog. The 
 nearly famished dog. Mr. Clarke’s pug. Poetical 
 extract . * 257 
 
 LETTER XXXI. 
 
 FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 
 
 Mrs. Hervey. Minnows. Chaffinches. A tale. 
 Pelican and cormorant. Sea-pelican and sea-gull. 
 African pelicans. Crows and hawk. Crows and 
 muscles . . . . 266 
 
 LETTER XXXri. 
 
 FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 
 
 The advantages of a taste for natural history. Na- 
 tural defences. Gradations of intellect. General 
 Murray’s dog. Insects in general. Spiders. 
 Stratagem. Gall insects. Ichneumons. Siam 
 ants. Wasp and fly. Nymphae of water moths. 
 Mistaken instinct . 276 
 
 LETTER XXX III, 
 
 FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 
 
 Cruelty to animals. James Sullivan. Instincts of 
 horses. Those of swine. Maternal caieofan 
 
 American 
 
STIU CONTENTS* 
 
 Page 
 
 American sow. Circumstances of the Ormond, 
 family 28S 
 
 LETTER XXXIV. 
 
 FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 
 
 Mr. Campbell’s prosperity. The consequences of it. 
 Effects of domestication on instinct. The beaver. 
 Highland cattle, Sagacious bull. Conclusion, . 
 
 INSTINCT 
 
INSTINCT DISPLAYED. 
 
 LETTER I. 
 
 FRO 31 CAROLINE TO EMILY. 
 
 DEAR EMILY , 
 
 To-morrow is my birth-day, when 
 I shall be eighteen. A large party was invited 
 to celebrate the day, and great preparations 
 were made for the occasion: the drawing-room 
 in my guardian’s house, was to be decorated 
 with festoons of natural flowers, illuminated with 
 coloured lamps; music was ordered, that my 
 juvenile visitors might be entertained with a 
 dance; and I thought of nothing but pleasure. 
 Little aware of the uncertainty of the future, I 
 was ill-qualified to bear the disappointments 
 that have followed these prospects of joy. 
 
 Mr. Campbell, whom I have regarded as a 
 father ever since I can remember, and in whose 
 hands my whole fortune w as placed, has made 
 some unfortunate bargains in the Alley, by which 
 he is ruined; and I am obliged to depend for 
 subsistence on the bounty of my mother’s sister, 
 b who 
 
*vho resides with her daughter, on a small in- 
 come, in a retired part of Wales. 
 
 Educated as I have been, in a fashionable 
 manner, and accustomed to the gaieties of Lon- 
 don, how shall I bear the uniform secluded life 
 that my good aunt and cousin lead in the coun- 
 try? Since I left school, my time has been at 
 my own disposal : the mornings have generally 
 been devoted to shopping with young ladies of 
 my acquaintance, a promenade in the park, or 
 some other similar amusement : my afternoons 
 have always passed in company at home, or 
 parties abroad. The few intervals of leisure that 
 - 1 could command from these daily engagements, 
 were spent at the piano-forte, or in reading 
 books of entertainment. What an insufferable 
 change must I endure, to be confined to the 
 society of two persons, both strangers to those 
 pursuits that I have been accustomed to consider 
 as the prime enjoyments of life : to be banished 
 from London, and obliged to pass my existence 
 in a country village, where the sound of a coach 
 is seldom heard ! To-morrow , instead of my 
 birth -day festival, I depart from the gay metro- 
 polis in a stage coach ; and, if I reach the place 
 of my destination in safety, I will give you an 
 account of my reception, and tell you with what 
 composure I bear the new mode of life I am 
 compelled to embrace. 
 
 Whatever 
 
3 
 
 Whatever misfortunes befal me, I flatter my- 
 self, my Emily, 1 shall still retain the same place 
 in your affections, that I have enjoyed ever since 
 we were placed together at the same school; and 
 though capricious Fortune frowns on me, whilst 
 she continues to smile graciously on you, that 
 your friendship will be undiminished towards 
 your unhappy 
 
 CAR0LIIfE 4 
 
 $ 2 
 
 LETTER. 
 
4 
 
 LETTER II. 
 
 FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME? 
 
 MY DEAR EMILY , 
 
 The uneasy motion of the coach, and 
 my depression of spirits, rendered my first 
 day’s journey inexpressibly fatiguing : at night, 
 weary as I was, I had no maid to assist me in 
 undressing* I then felt, for the first time, that 
 a fine lady is a very helpless being; and I com- 
 forted myself with the reflection, that necessity 
 would at least teach me to wait upon myself. 
 Notwithstanding the novelty of my situation, 
 in an inn, and amongst strangers, I slept 
 soundly, and arose more capable of attending 
 to the civilities of my fellow-travellers, than the 
 k day before. For, believe me, Emily, the kind- 
 ness of these people, whom, a few days before, I 
 should have regarded with false pride, as my 
 inferiors, was a great consolation to me in my 
 forlorn situation. In the evening I arrived at 
 my aunt’s, rejoiced to feel myself under the pro- 
 tection of one who owned me for a relation. 
 My cousin met me at the door with a most en- 
 gaging welcorng^ She is about two years older 
 than I am. . Her face is not regularly handsome, 
 but an inexpressible sweetness is spread over 
 
 every 
 
5 
 
 every feature : her mouth, especially, has the 
 most gracious smile you can imagine. The first 
 glance assured me that I should not be miser- 
 able with such a companion. She introduced 
 me to my aunt, who was sitting in a parlour 
 neatly furnished with white dimity, that over- 
 looked a delightful view of an extensive country. 
 She rose to receive me, and, with the tender salute 
 of a mother, bid me consider her house as my 
 future home. The thoughts of dependance 
 brought tears from ray eyes: I could only 
 stammer out my thanks in broken accents. She 
 seemed to perceive the cause of my tears, but, 
 without making any remark, changed the con- 
 versation to the occurrences of my journey, and 
 united with her daughter in every kind attention 
 that could have been paid to the most respected 
 visitor, rather than a poor dependant relation, 
 who sought an asylum from their bounty. 
 My aunt is about fifty, and has been extremely 
 handsome: benignity and intelligence are mark- 
 ed in her countenance, and a certain dignity of 
 manner, that impresses respect mingled with 
 love. Two such persons I did not expect to 
 find in a Welsh cottage; for the house deserves 
 no better title, though it has every convenience 
 the wants of the family require. I have a 
 chamber to myself, and view from my window 
 a prospect that might supply Salvator Rosa 
 
 with 
 
6 
 
 with a subject : a mountain of sublime height 
 rises before it, partially clothed with trees of 
 varied beauty; through the midst of them rushes 
 a cascade, which, after rain, swells to a cataract, 
 dashing its silvery foam against the craggy 
 rocks. The house is white on the outside, and 
 stands in the midst of a garden, which my aunt 
 and cousin cultivate with their own hands. The 
 country around is beautiful and romantic : the 
 walks are really charming, and, to me, full of 
 novelty. The first few days I seemed stupid, 
 and passed my time without employment. My 
 aunt, who made allowance for my former habits, 
 as well as my awkw ardness in those occupations 
 that fill every hour of their time, asked me, one 
 morning, if I should not like to have something 
 to do; and added, that the best cure for melan- 
 choly, was a succession of agreeable business. 
 She then requested me to gather some flowers, 
 and new dress the bouquets that adorn the 
 chimney-piece. After many trials, before I 
 could arrange them to my own satisfaction, I 
 finished them, as my aunt and cousin kindly 
 told me, with some taste. Finding me pleased 
 with my task, she has since given me others, 
 which, though very different from town amuse- 
 ments, arc not without interest. You would 
 smile to see me equipped in a printed apron, 
 and a basket of corn on my arm, as soon as 
 
 breakfast 
 
7 ? 
 
 breakfast is over, to accompany Rachel to the 
 poultry-yard, where wc are presently surround- 
 ed by a numerous tribe of the feathered race, 
 who divert me extremely with their rivalships, 
 their quarrels, and, above all, with the tender 
 care of the hens for their young broods. The 
 moment we enter, all is bustle and noise; each 
 eager to push through the crowd, in order to 
 pick up the first grain that falls from my basket. 
 The king of our yard is remarkably beautiful : 
 I cannot describe him better than in the words 
 of Dryden: 
 
 “ High was his comb, and coral red withal. 
 
 In dents embattled like a castle wall ; 
 
 His bill was raven black, and shone like jet; 
 
 Blue were his leg*, and orient were his feet; 
 
 White were his nails, like silver to behold: 
 
 His body glittering like the burnish’d gold,” 
 
 This handsome bird struts about with an air 
 of majesty, attended by the females, who are 
 also very pretty; for Rachel is attentive to 
 bring up those which are the beauties of the 
 brood. To give you the history of one of our 
 days, I should begin with the morning. I rise 
 at six, three or four hours before my accustomed 
 time: this gives me a day before you are awake, 
 and my health is already improved by it. You 
 would be surprised to see how rosy I am grown. 
 
 As 
 
As soon as we are dressed, we all assemble in the 
 common parlour, to hear Mrs. Saville read a 
 chapter in the Bible, which she has begun on 
 my account, as I had only read scattered pas- 
 sages at school. Could you be present at our 
 morning orisons, you would be charmed with 
 the impressive manner in which my dear aunt 
 reads the sacred volume. I never heard any 
 thing so solemn before. Sarah, an old servant, 
 who has lived many years in the family, and 
 has faithfully adhered to her mistress through 
 all the vicissitudes she has undergone, always 
 attends; besides a young girl, named Fanny, 
 that my aunt has taken from a neighbouring 
 cot, to assist Sarah in the laborious part of the 
 work. At first, I was astonished to see the ser- 
 vants take their seats amongst us; but my aunt, 
 ■without appearing to condemn my foolish pride, 
 convinced me, that the salvation of the meanest 
 of mankind, is as important in the sight of 
 the Universal Father, as that of the most power- 
 ful monarch; and that heads of families are 
 bound to use their utmost endeavours to afford 
 religious instruction to every branch of their 
 household. 
 
 When reading is finished, we walk in the 
 garden whilst breakfast is made ready. This 
 sweet enclosure reminds me of the hanging 
 gardens of Babylon ; for it is partly formed on 
 
 ths 
 
9 
 
 the side of a bill, and the walks wind up the 
 ascent, forming terraces one above another: the 
 uppermost shaded with a row of tall trees. On 
 one side is a grove, with underwood of nut 
 trees; and at the bottom glides a clear stream, 
 in which we often watch the gambols of the 
 fishes, for our amusement. Choice flowers, of 
 various kinds, are cultivated witli great care; 
 for both my companions are skilful florists, as 
 well as botanists. One part, concealed by a 
 shrubbery, contains all kinds of useful vegeta- 
 bles, and simples for medicines, which Mrs. 
 Savilie dispenses to the poor; for she is their 
 doctress, their counsellor, and their friend. 
 Did you know how she is reverenced and be- 
 loved, you would not think me quite so much 
 to be pitied. An hour or two is devoted to 
 gardening, by Rachel and myself; (for I am 
 learning to be useful ;) whilst my aunt overlooks 
 her family concerns, and attends to the appli- 
 cations of the poor. 1 have not yet discovered 
 the secret of her management, for, with a very 
 limited income, she has always the means of 
 relief for the truly distressed. But more of this 
 hereafter. 
 
 When our business is finished, we sit down 
 to useful needlework, whilst one of us reads some 
 instructive book to the rest. The most hand- 
 b 5 
 
 some 
 
10 
 
 some piece of furniture in Mrs. Saville’s house, 
 is a large mahogany book-case, well supplied 
 with a select collection of books in most sciences. 
 This she calls her treasure, and says it is the 
 only fragment she has saved from the wreck of 
 her early fortunes. In her husband’s life-time, 
 she was accustomed to all the indulgences of 
 affluence; but Mr. Saville having lived to the 
 utmost verge of his income, and his estate being 
 entailed, it went to a male heir, and, conse- 
 quently, very little remained for her. 
 
 We dine early, and the afternoons are often 
 passed in drawing; an art in which Rachel ex- 
 cels, particularly in taking views from nature. 
 Sometimes we converse or walk; and, they tell 
 me, they occasionally pass an hour or two at the 
 parsonage-house. But I have not yet seen either 
 Mr. Palmer or his wife, as they are gone on a 
 short excursion to the sea. We close the day 
 as we began it, with the Bible, and retire to rest 
 before the London fashionables have finished 
 their dinner. 
 
 However Gothic this mode of living may ap- 
 pear to you, I begin to think it is rather more 
 reasonable than that into which I was cast at 
 Mr. Campbell’s. Time is requisite to reconcile 
 the mind to new views, and regret will some- 
 times force itself on m v mind, at the recollection 
 
 that 
 
11 
 
 that I was so lately, the gay, modish, and 
 admired Caroline Greville; and that now, I 
 am an obscure, dependant, country girl. The 
 thought would overwhelm me, did not the 
 example of Mrs. Saville convince me, that it is 
 possible to endure such a metamorphosis and 
 be happy. Adieu. You shall Soon hear again 
 from 
 
 Caroline* 
 
 LETTER 
 
12 
 
 LETTER in. 
 
 FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 
 
 So, my dear girl, all my acquaintance pity 
 me, and wonder how I exist. You may tell 
 them, that I begin to like my new manner of 
 living, and believe, when I am more accustomed 
 to it, I shall become quite fond of it. My time 
 never passed so quickly; for I am always em- 
 ployed. If I happened to be alone when I lived 
 in London, how tedious the hours seemed; be- 
 cause, without an engagement, I had no pursuit. 
 Now the case is widely different: every occupa- 
 tion is interesting. Do not suppose that there is 
 no variety: Mrs. Saville’s conversation alone is 
 a fund of amusement and instruction. She has 
 seen a great deal of the world, mixed much in 
 society, has studied mankind, and enriched her 
 jnind with reading. She possesses the uncom- 
 mon art of correcting the faults of those she is 
 with, so agreeably, that she wins their loye, 
 whilst she obliquely reproves them. 
 
 By leading me to a succession of employments, 
 she has almost cured me of that slothful habit of 
 lounging away time in doing nothing, or some 
 trifle equivalent to it. — u Chase away your 
 chagrin, Caroline,” says she, seeing me look 
 thoughtful, “ by puiwits that enlarge your un- 
 derstanding, 
 
13 
 
 derstanding, and improve your heart. Come 
 with me, my love; you shall assist me in teach- 
 ing twenty little girls their duty, in a school that 
 I have established at a short distance. Their 
 good dame, to whom I pay a small stipend, 
 instructs them in reading and working; but I 
 take upon myself to explain the importance of 
 religion and virtue, the necessity of governing 
 the temper, and the advantages of order and 
 good habits. The little prattlers all love me : and 
 I seldom pass an hour more pleasantly, than in 
 beholding the improvement of this innocent as- 
 sembly. I accompanied her to the school, and 
 enjoyed a delight that I had never felt before. 
 I intend to repeat my visits, and have taken 
 particular charge of six of these children. At 
 the sight of their benefactress, love and venera- 
 tion were spread on every countenance, and 
 each seemed eager to obtain a smile of approba- 
 tion. 
 
 Sometimes our table is covered with maps of 
 different countries, and my aunt elucidates the 
 climate, produce, and character, of the inhabit- 
 ants of each. 
 
 Her favourite study is Natural History, in 
 which she is assisted by Mr. Palmer, who has 
 a very extensive knowledge on the subject. 
 They wish to initiate me, but I am such a novice, 
 that I fear they will have a great deal of trouble. 
 
 However, 
 
14 
 
 However., I am desirous of turning ray attention 
 that way, from the pleasure I perceive every 
 object affords to my aunt and cousin: (for 
 Rachel, too, is a naturalist:) the most insignifi- 
 cant flower or insect is to them a subject of ad- 
 miration. They glean from this source many 
 enjoyments to which I am a stranger. 
 
 Mr. Palmer has engaged us to attend a lecture 
 at liis house twice a week ; the substance of 
 which I am to write down, and shall send to 
 you, if you have time or patience to read 
 them. 
 
 Thus does this enlightened woman contrive 
 to provide a succession of amusements, in this 
 retired solitude; and so happily do I spend my 
 time, that, except being an incumbrance to 
 Mrs. Saville, I would not resume my former 
 situation, for any consideration. And then, my 
 sweet Rachel, (but you must not be jealous,) she 
 is so affectionate, so amiable, so modest, and 
 such a pattern of filial piety, that 1 love her 
 entirely, and am fully conscious of my own 
 inferiority. The separation from you is one 
 of my greatest troubles; but I rejoice that this 
 mode of communication still enables me to as- 
 sure you, that I am, with unalterable regard, 
 
 Your 
 
 Carolii\e. 
 
 LETTER 
 
15 
 
 LETTER IY. 
 
 FROM THE SAME TO TIIE SAME. 
 
 DEAR EMILY , 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Palmer are a pleasing 
 couple: superior to the flippancy of modish 
 politeness, they are sufficiently refined for the 
 society of any rank, whilst they possess an ease 
 and simplicity that is quite charming. He is 
 the father of his parish. His business is to in- 
 struct the ignorant, relieve the distressed, visit 
 the sick, comfort the afflicted, and reform the 
 vicious. When these important and interesting 
 duties give him leisure, the study of nature is 
 his recreation. His wife is young, and pretty^ 
 she is a model of domestic management, and is 
 the governess, as well as the mother, of her 
 children. We spent a long afternoon with 
 them yesterday: the conversation turned upon 
 instinct, and since you express an inclination to 
 profit by my studies, I shall give you Mr. 
 Palmer’s opinion upon the subject, in the clear- 
 est manner I am capable of expressing it. 
 
 “ The exact limits of instinct,” said he, “ are 
 difficult to define, as the sagacity of animals 
 often approaches to reason, and appears to out- 
 step that faculty, which forms part of their 
 
 nature, 
 
16 
 
 nature, and impels them to certain actions that 
 are essential to their well-being, or that of their 
 offspring. In animals of the same species, in- 
 stinct is invariably the same, though the indi- 
 viduals that compose it, have never had an 
 opportunity of learning it from example. A 
 Canary-bird hatched in a cage, builds a nest as 
 similar to those formed by Canary-birds in their 
 native woods, as she can with the materials that 
 are given her: yet she has seen none of those of 
 her own species for a model. 
 
 “ Instinct directs each kind of bird to choose 
 that material, and to adopt that peculiar form, 
 that best suits the constitution and number of 
 her young. This impelling principle guides the 
 eagle to fix her eyry on the summit of a tall tree ; 
 whilst the lark, moved by the same irresistible 
 inclination, places her humble dwelling on the 
 ground. Were the feathered tribes led by acci- 
 dental choice alone, great confusion would ensue. 
 A waterfowl might build in the sandy desert, 
 whilst an ostrich might destroy her future pro- 
 geny, by laying her eggs on the bank of a river; 
 whereas, under this infallible director, every 
 oviparous animal deposits its offspring in that 
 situation where it is likely to find protection 
 against injuries, and a plentiful supply of food. 
 
 . “ The results of instinct are stable, and exactly 
 adapted to the wants of its owner, as a species, 
 
 whether 
 
17 
 
 whether beast, bird, fish, or insect; but reason 
 is a yielding quality, governed by circum- 
 stances, and accommodating itself to the particu- 
 lar inclination or desires of the individual. In- 
 stinct teaches men to shelter themselves from the 
 inclemencies of heat and cold ; but reason enables 
 every man to choose a dwelling and situation 
 peculiarly adapted to his own taste and conve- 
 nience. Reason, consequently, is various : in- 
 stinct, uniform. The first is the privilege of 
 man, and is the test of an intellectual nature: 
 the latter has something belonging to it almost 
 mechanical, and marks no degree of superiority 
 or merit in the possessor. One bee is as expert, 
 in forming the cell with geometrical exactness, 
 as another. The individuals of a whole species 
 are equally skilful in performing the tasks of 
 instinct: each fulfils his part in perfection, nor 
 do they ever improve or degenerate: the bees of 
 the present day do not excel those in the days 
 of Adam. The same remarks belong to all the 
 various tribes of animals: they rear their young, 
 procure their food, and defend themselves from 
 their enemies, as well as the first of their kind, 
 and no better. 
 
 “ Here, then,” continued he, u is a clear dis- 
 tinction between reason and instinct. 
 
 u Let us pursue the comparison. — Reason is 
 progressive^ not only from infancy to mature 
 
 age. 
 
IS 
 
 age, but from one generation to another, as ap- 
 pears by the progress from the sa\age state to 
 that of a highly civilized nation. In the first 
 periods of society, men only supply the absolute 
 wants of nature; but, as they advance, know- 
 ledge, founded on experience, produces the rude 
 beginnings of the sciences: useful discoveries arc 
 made, inventions arc multiplied, and the com- 
 forts of human life augmented. But the arts of 
 animals, if the expression is allowable, arc al- 
 ways stationary, and reach at once to perfection. 
 Every individual knows its proper business, 
 without a model or a teacher. Another re- 
 markable difference subsists between reason and 
 instinct: the former is directed by motives, 
 whilst the latter seems to have no other design 
 than the gratification of an irresistible impulse. 
 Men weigh consequences, and act according to 
 their view of the readiest means of producing 
 Certain effects: animals perform their instinctive 
 habits without foreseeing the result. 
 
 u *As an example of this distinction, let \i» 
 trace the operations of a man going to erect a 
 mill. First he calculates the extent of liis 
 means, and whether his finances are adequate to 
 the undertaking. He chooses a proper sit nation ; 
 purchases timber; engages numbers of his fel- 
 low-men, skilled in different arts, to assist him: 
 bricklayers, carpenters, and blacksmiths. For 
 
 each 
 
19 
 
 each lie provides proper tools and materials; 
 and when they are set to work, every part is 
 contrived to answer a particular purpose, and is 
 adapted to a determined place. He also takes 
 into consideration the use for which it is design- 
 ed ; whether it is to grind corn, or any other 
 article that may require different machinery ; 
 and lastly, whether it is to be set in motion by r 
 wind, water, or steam. All this demands re- 
 flection, contrivance, design, science, and ex- 
 perience; of which the most sagacious animal 
 that was ever discovered, is wholly incapable. 
 A bird lays the twigs for her nest, and lines it in 
 the same manner, as her ancestors did before her, 
 without these mental operations. Many ani- 
 mals store their provisions, that can have no 
 foreknowledge of the change of seasons. Men 
 sow, reap, and gather in the fruits of the earth, 
 from experience and reason, which teach them 
 the necessity of providing, in the abundance of 
 the one, for the sterility of the other. Men act 
 from motives; animals from their propensities. 
 Reason is more dignified than instinct; but the 
 latter excels reason in the perfection of its opera- 
 tions. The cells of a bee-hive are constructed 
 upon geometrical principles; yet all the cells of 
 every hive, even in different countries and ages, 
 have always been, and still are, of the same shape 
 and proportions. Show r me the artist that could 
 
 form 
 
20 
 
 form twenty thousand of these minute cells with 
 such exactness, let his tools be ever so nicely 
 adapted to the purpose. 
 
 li The complete operations of instinct are 
 greatly promoted by the admirable conformity 
 of the organs of each animal to its modes of life; 
 which combines with the exquisite perfection of 
 their senses, to enable them to perform their re- 
 spective tasks, in a manner superior to the most 
 ingenious imitations of men. But some crea- 
 tures, it must be confessed, display an extra- 
 ordinary sagacity, particularly when domesti- 
 cated, adapted to circumstances, and seeming to 
 approach to reason. This is consistent with the 
 order of nature, which is composed of grada- 
 tions, which are so closely linked together, that it 
 is very difficult to define the limits of the differ- 
 ent classes. On some future occasion, I will 
 give you a few instances of this kind ; but I have 
 said enough for the present.” 
 
 I listened with attention to his discourse, and, 
 from the pleasure it afforded me, was desirous to 
 communicate it to you. 
 
 I fear I shall be a dull scholar in learning the 
 divisions of the Linn<ean system, nor am I quite 
 sure that I shall not grow weary of mere de- 
 scriptions; therefore, I shall not trouble you w ith 
 either, especially as you may find them in books 
 of natural history; but 1 shall only select those 
 
 parts 
 
21 
 
 parts of our lectures that relate to the instincts 
 and sagacities of the animal world, believing you 
 will receive the most entertainment from them. 
 My letter is already too long. I conclude, with 
 sincere affection, 
 
 Yours, 
 
 Caroline. 
 
 LETTER 
 
LETTER V. 
 
 FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME* 
 
 B EAR EMILY, 
 
 An ant-hill, in one of onr most curious 
 flower-beds, has given us a great deal of trouble; 
 but I do not regret it, because it has been the 
 means of opening a scene of new wonders to my 
 mind. Though Rachel was vexed to see her 
 flowers covered with ants, yet she could not help 
 rvatching their motions, which drew my atten- 
 tion to them. I was surprised to perceive, that, 
 though they were generally without wings, 
 some of them were furnished with four large 
 ones. Rachel informed me that the winged in- 
 sects differ in sex from those which have none, 
 and are the parents of the community; that the 
 greater number of them are a kind of neutral 
 insect, that labours for the whole, by building 
 their nests, and taking care of the young; with 
 many other curious particulars, which would 
 almost make one believe that they w ere endow ed 
 with reason, their instincts are so completely 
 fitted to their wants. I passed the chief part of 
 my morning in observing this busy multitude, 
 and w'as particularly diverted with seeing several 
 of them attack part of a peach that was lying 011 
 
 the 
 
23 
 
 the ground. After having satisfied their appe* 
 tites, they began to endeavour to remove the 
 remainder to their city, but finding it too un- 
 wieldy for their powers, they divided it into 
 pieces, and each one trudged off with its load. 
 Soon after, another party seized a beetle, which 
 was likewise a weight above their match : they 
 had recourse to the former expedient of division. 
 They sawed off his limbs, and carried him away 
 in triumph; but not without other difficulties to 
 subdue, for a small ridge intervened between 
 them and their nest, which, like good pioneers, 
 they levelled in one spot, and then proceeded 
 with their treasure. 
 
 Rachel, perceiving the interest I took in their 
 movements, proposed entertaining me with an 
 account, selected from the papers of Mr. Smeath- 
 man, concerning the termites , an insect that 
 abounds in the tropical climates, the habits of 
 which are very similar to those of the ant, but 
 still more wonderful* I enclose a copy of it for 
 you, since you tell me that my letters have 
 stimulated you to look into the book of nature. 
 I think it must afford you much amusement. I 
 am glad to hear, that, during your retreat in the 
 country, you turn your attention to the same 
 kind pf objects that now form my daily recrea- 
 tion, as it gives me some hope that the simple 
 incidents of my rural life will not be wholly 
 
 uninteresting 
 
24 
 
 uninteresting to you. Rachel desires you will 
 admit her into the circle of your friends, and 
 ventures to unite her love with that of your 
 affectionate 
 
 Caroline, 
 
 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE TERMITES, OR WHITE 
 ANT OF TROPICAL CLIMATES*. 
 
 The attention of mankind is almost equally 
 drawn to those creatures that are either particu- 
 larly useful, and therefore brought under their 
 observation, or so destructive as to render pre- 
 cautions against their ravages necessary. Ra- 
 pacious beasts are not the only enemies against 
 which men are obliged to contend. Insects of 
 various species, that, from their diminutive size, 
 and apparent insignificance, appear, at first 
 sight, to be incapable of injuring a creature that 
 is endowed with reason, and is justly termed 
 lord of the creation, are, nevertheless, able to 
 cause him much inconvenience. For it has often 
 happened, that the farmer has been disappointed 
 of his harvest; that a nation has been reduced 
 to a scanty portion of food ; and other calamities 
 
 * The principal part of this account is taken from Mr. 
 Smeathman. 
 
 have 
 
have arisen, from the depredations of insects* 
 Amongst the destructive classes, may be ranged 
 the termites, found in Africa and other warm 
 climates, whose mischievous propensities are 
 exerted in such an extraordinary manner, that 
 no vigilance is a security against their attacks* 
 It seems like a traveller’s wonder to say, that a 
 little insect, not larger than an ant, can under- 
 mine houses, destroy the supports and the wood- 
 work, make its way through the floors, consume 
 clothes, furniture, books, and every other article 
 that is not made of stone or of metal. If the 
 natives abandon a town composed of wooden 
 houses, these industrious ravagers will clear it 
 away so completly, that, in two or three years, 
 a thick wood arises on the vacant space, and 
 not a vestige of a house remains, unless any of 
 the posts were made of iron- wood. 
 
 Some instances of their rapacity may be amus- 
 ing to those not interested in the consequences* 
 in order, therefore, to give a more exact idea of 
 their operations, I shall relate the following cir- 
 cumstances. An engineer, who had been sur- 
 veying a district in the Brazils, at going to rest 
 left his trunk on a table, as lie supposed in 
 safety ; by the morning, he found his clothes 
 and papers so far destroyed, that he was not 
 able to collect a piece of either, so large as a 
 square inch* 
 
 At 
 
 C 
 
26 
 
 At another time, a party of them discovered a 
 cask of Madeira, and worked so effectually on 
 the staves, as to let out the liquor. 
 
 The larger species (for there are several) chiefly 
 make their approaches underground, penetrat- 
 ing beneath the foundation of houses or stores, 
 and rising again, either through the floors, or 
 by entering the bottom of the posts that support 
 the building; when they follow the course of the 
 fibres, and make their way to the top; boring 
 holes and cavities, in different places, as they pro- 
 ceed. Multitudes enter the roof, and intersect it 
 with pipes, or galleries, formed of wet clay; 
 which serve for passages in all directions, and 
 enable them, more readily, to fix their habita- 
 tion in it. They prefer the softer woods, such 
 as pine and fir, which they hollow out with such 
 nicety, that they leave the surface whole, after 
 having eaten away the inside. A shelf or plank 
 attacked in this manner, looks solid to the eye, 
 when, if weighed, it will not out-balance two 
 sheets of pasteboard of the same dimensions. It 
 sometimes happens that they carry this opera- 
 tion so far, on stakes in the open air, as to render 
 the bark too flexible for their purpose; when 
 they remedy the defect, by plastering the whole 
 stick with a sort of mortar that they make with 
 clay; so that,on being struck, the form vanishes, 
 and the artificial covering falls in fragments on 
 
 the 
 
27 
 
 the ground. In the woods, when a large tree 
 falls from age or accident, they enter it on the 
 side next the ground, and devour at leisure, till 
 little more than the bark is left. But in this case 
 they take no precaution of strengthening the out- 
 ward defence, but leave it in such a state as to 
 deceive an eye unaccustomed to see trees thus 
 gutted of their insides. It is an extraordinary 
 fact, that when these creatures have formed pipes 
 in the roof of a house, instinct directs them to 
 prevent its fall, which would ensue from their 
 having sapped the posts on which it rests; but, 
 as they gnaw away the wood, they fill up the 
 interstices with eky, tempered to a surprising 
 degree of hardness: so that, when the house is 
 pulled down, these posts are transformed from 
 Wood to stone. 
 
 We have already seen that it is easier to shut 
 one’s door against a fox or a wolf, than to ex- 
 clude these insiduous enemies. On considering 
 their destructive powers, incalculable numbers, 
 and amazing increase, an enquiry arises in the 
 mind of a casual observer, To what purpose was 
 tins insect created? and why was it endowed 
 with instincts that lead it to be so injurious to 
 man? But lie who has habituated himself to 
 believe in the infinite goodness of the Father of 
 the Universe, will hesitate, before he presumes 
 that any part of his works is absolutely mis- 
 chievous or useless. He perceives, that in vari- 
 c 2 
 
 ous 
 
28 
 
 ous other instances, apparent evil is the source 
 of great benefit ; whence he concludes, that the 
 same arrangement may prevail in this case ; and, 
 on further investigation, he discovers, that in 
 the countries where the termites abound, vegeta- 
 tion is so exceedingly rapid and abundant, 
 and counterbalanced by an equal celerity of 
 destruction, from natural or accidental causes, 
 that, unless some indefatigable agents were pro- 
 vided to clear away every substance tending to 
 decay, these fertile regions would become unin- 
 habitable, from the pollution of the air. In this 
 point of view, this insect is a most valuable 
 creature; and were it possible to annihilate the 
 race, the consequences would be so baneful, as to 
 render their loss a serious calamity. It appears 
 to be an invariable law of nature, that, whatever 
 has reached perfect maturity, should decay, and 
 yield its place to fresh productions. This princi- 
 ple is as observable in the vegetable, as in the 
 animal kingdom: thus, when trees, and even 
 woods, are partly destroyed by tornadoes, or 
 fire, the instincts of many creatures impel them 
 to consume the remainder, or prepare it for a 
 speedy dissolution. None are more expert at this 
 business than the termites; for, in a few weeks, 
 they will divide and carry away the bodies of 
 large trees, and leave a vacant space for a new 
 growth of vegetable produce. 
 
 However 
 
§9 
 
 However troublesome to individuals, therefore, 
 this little creature may be, its general use cannot 
 be doubted. Its depredations on the labours of 
 man may be called accidental, and are the re- 
 sult of its propensities, to promote the good of 
 the whole. 
 
 It is time to describe its figure, and the instincts 
 with which it is endowed for the purposes of its 
 own preservation. These creatures have received 
 the name of white ants, from their colour when 
 first hatched, and the similarity of their habits 
 to the common ant; though they greatly excel 
 it in their structures and internal policy. 
 
 They live in communities, and build nests 
 different in form, situation, and colour, accord- 
 ing to the respective species. Mr. Smeathman, 
 from whom this account is borrowed, has chosen 
 the termes bellicosns , as being the largest and 
 most easily observed, for the object of his parti- 
 cular description. The nests of this species are 
 so numerous, that, in some parts, they are scarcely 
 fifty yards separate, and of such magnitude, 
 that they might be mistaken for a village of the 
 natives. They resemble a sugar-loaf in shape, 
 and rise from ten to twelve feet, perpendicularly, 
 above the ground: the outside shell may be 
 compared to a dome, which encloses, and de- 
 fends from the injuries of the weather, the inte- 
 rior of the building, which is curiously divided 
 
 into 
 
30 
 
 into apartments for different purposes, that wilt 
 be better understood, when the changes and 
 habits of the insect are further described. The 
 height of these hilts, compared with the size of 
 the architect, is vast, and their strength so great, 
 that the wild bulls, which stand as eentinels to 
 the rest of the herd, ruminating on the plain, 
 generally take their place on one of them that is 
 about half built. The commencement of this 
 huge cone is a small turret or two, about a foot 
 iu height, and of the sugar-loaf shape; at a little 
 distance, oilier turrets, of a similar kind, are 
 raised; when, by increasing the number, and 
 augmenting the size, the base of the building is 
 covered with them : the highest and largest re- 
 maining in the centre, till, by filling up the 
 intervals between them, they are gradually form- 
 ed into one large dome. When this is effected, 
 they take away the middle ones entirely, (except 
 the tops, which, united, make the crown of (he 
 cupola,) and then apply the same clay to some 
 other purpose. 
 
 In each community there are three orders of 
 inhabitants, which are produced from changes 
 similar to those of the silk-worm and several 
 other kinds of insects. The working termites 
 are about a quarter of an inch long, and are far 
 the most numerous, being in the proportion of an 
 hundred to one soldier, which is the denomina- 
 tion 
 
31 
 
 tion Mr. Smeathman gives to them, after the 
 first transformation : in this state, they assume a 
 different form, and are increased to the bulk of 
 fifteen labourers. The organs of the mouth 
 undergo a remarkable change, evidently adapt- 
 ed to the new office of its owner. Whilst a la- 
 bourer, a mouth formed for gnawing and taking 
 hold of bodies w as necessary, and it was accord- 
 ingly well suited to that purpose; but when the 
 insect is impelled, by instinct, to guard against 
 the hostile attacks of an eriemy, offensive wea- 
 pons become requisite: it is now furnished with 
 a formidable pair of piercers, or jagged forceps, 
 capable of inflicting a painful wound. These 
 forceps are placed in a strong, horny head, 
 larger than all the rest of the body. The third 
 metamorphosis is still greater: almost every 
 part is altered from its original form, and four 
 brownish, large, transparent wings, appear to 
 enable the perfect termes to seek a convenient 
 spot for a new settlement. The bodies of these 
 are enlarged to the bulk of thirty labourers, and 
 on each side of the head is a large, round eye; 
 but whilst the creature lived underground, no 
 eyes were visible. The greater number of the 
 multitudes of these flies, which emigrate from 
 the parent colony, perish in the course of a few 
 hours, and become the prey of innumerable 
 birds, reptiles, insects, and lastly, of man, as they 
 
 are 
 
32 
 
 are esteemed a nourishing, delicate food, that 
 wants no other cookery than simply roasting 
 before the fire. The few pairs that are so fortu- 
 nate as to survive the various casualties that 
 assail them, are found by labourers, (termites,) 
 which, at this season, are running continu- 
 ally on the surface of the ground, on the watch 
 for them. As soon as they discover the objects 
 of their search, they begin to protect them from 
 their surrounding enemies, by enclosing them in 
 a small chamber of clay; where th^y become 
 the parents of a new community, and are distin- 
 guished from the other inhabitants of the nest, 
 by the title of king and queen. Instinct is the 
 principle which directs the attention of these 
 labouring insects to the preservation of their 
 race, in the protection of this pair and their 
 offspring. The chamber that forms the rudi- 
 ment of a new nest, is contrived for their safety; 
 but the entrances to it are too small to admit of 
 their ever leaving it; consequently, the charge 
 of the eggs devolves upon the labourers, who 
 construct nurseries for their reception. These are 
 small, irregularly-shaped chambers, placed, at 
 first, round the apartment of the king and queen, 
 and not exceeding the size of a hazle-nut; but, in 
 nests of long standing, they are of far greater 
 magnitude, and distributed at a greater distance. 
 These receptacles for hatching the young, are 
 
 all 
 
33 
 
 all composed of wooden materials, apparently 
 joined together with gum, and, by way of defence, 
 cased .with clay. The chamber that contains 
 the king and queen, is nearly on a level with the 
 surface of the ground ; and, as the other apart- 
 ments are formed from it, it is generally situated 
 at an equal distance from the sides of the nest, 
 and directly beneath its conical point. Those 
 apartments w hich consist of nurseries and maga- 
 zines of provisions, form an intricate labyrinth, 
 being separated by small, empty chambers and 
 galleries, which surround them, or afford a com- 
 munication from one to another. This laby- 
 rinth extends on all sides to the outward shells, 
 and reaches up within it, to two-thirds, or more, 
 of its height; leaving an open area above, in the 
 middle, under the dome, which reminds the 
 spectator of the nave of an old cathedral. 
 Around this are raised three or four large 
 arches, which are sometimes two or three feet 
 high, next the front of the area; but diminish as 
 they recede further back, and are lost amidst 
 the innumerable chambers and nurseries behind 
 them. The mechanical skill displayed in the 
 contrivance of these chambers and passages, they 
 being all arched so as to give support to each 
 other, with the form of the hollow dome, adapted 
 to collect a genial warmth for the tender young, 
 which passes to the nurseries, through openings 
 c 5 suited 
 
suited to the purpose, must be attributed to in- 
 stinct; for the termites are not endowed with any 
 faculties superior to other insects, if required to 
 act out of that line marked for them by Provi- 
 dence. In constructing their habitations, pro- 
 viding materials, guarding their infant progeny, 
 collecting food, and defending themselves against 
 their enemies, their instincts are admirable, and 
 assume the appearance of order and design ; 
 but take one of them away from its fellows, and 
 place it in a situation entirely new to it, it has 
 no judgment to direct its conduct, or to extri- 
 cate it from its unfortunate lot; therefore, its 
 habits, however wonderful, (and they are truly 
 so, as will be further shown,) are only the irre- 
 sistible effects of impulse, and performed with- 
 out a knowledge of the future, or a motive for 
 choosing one mode of building in preference to 
 another. % 
 
 Great precautions are taken to keep the apart- 
 ments dry; the area mentioned before forms a 
 roof that is water-proof, and would carry off any 
 water that might accidentally enter the dome, 
 by a communication with some of the large, 
 subterraneous passages that run at the base, in 
 various directions: these are lined with the same 
 kind of clay of which the hill is composed, 
 and ascend the inside of the outward shell in 
 a spiral manner, winding round the whole 
 
 building, 
 
35 
 
 building, till they reach the top : they intersect 
 each other at different heights, and open cither 
 into the dome immediately, or into the interior 
 building. From every part of the large galleries, 
 issue small pipes, or lesser galleries, leading to 
 different parts of the building. Many of these 
 run underground, descending into the earth 
 three or four feet perpendicularly; from whence 
 the labourers collect the finer particles, which, 
 after being worked in their mouths to the con- 
 sistence of mortar, become that solid clay of 
 winch their hills, and all their buildings except 
 the nurseries, arc composed. Some of these 
 pipes extend to a vast distance, at least with 
 respect to sue!) minute creatures, being carried 
 out more than an hundred yards from their 
 main city. The large galleries are the great 
 thoroughfares, and are well calculated, by their 
 spiral direction, for that purpose; as the termites 
 have great difficulty in ascending a perpendicu- 
 lar, particularly the soldiers, probably, from the 
 weight and size of their head. If any part of 
 the building happens to be upright, the incon- 
 venience of ascending it is often obviated by a 
 road, made like a flat ledge, directed in the 
 maimer of those roads which are cut on the 
 sides of steep hills, to render the passage easier. 
 It is probable, that it is for the same conveni- 
 ence that they build a kind of bridge, of one 
 
 large 
 
36 
 
 targe arch, whicli answers the purpose of a 
 flight of stairs, from the floor of the area, to 
 some opening in one of the columns which sup- 
 port the great arches. This passage shortens 
 the distance exceedingly, to those labourers who 
 have the task of carrying the eggs from the 
 royal chamber to some of the upper nurseries; 
 which, in the, largest hills, would be four or 
 five feet in the straightest line, and much more, 
 if carried through all the winding passages 
 which lead through the inner chambers, and 
 apartments. 
 
 The king and queen, after once they are im- 
 mured in their solitary cell, never quit it. The 
 queen, like the queen bee, is the mother of the 
 whole community. In this confinement she un- 
 dergoes a considerable change; not so much 
 by an alteration of form, as by an increase of 
 size in a particular part. The abdomen, or 
 lower body, stretches out like a bag, enlarging 
 to a vast bulk, compared with the size of the 
 labourers. Smeathman says he has seen this sack 
 above five inches long. These queens are the 
 parents of multitudes of eggs. Some of them 
 have been observed to lay sixty in a minute, 
 which, if uninterrupted, would amount to eighty 
 thousand, in one day of twenty-four hours. 
 Instinct directs the labourers to watch the queen, 
 in order to take away the eggs as soon as they 
 
 are 
 
37 
 
 are deposited, and to carry them to the distant 
 cells, where they are hatched, and attended 
 afterwards by these labourers, with the same 
 care as most other creatures bestow upon their 
 own progeny. 
 
 It is another peculiar instinct of all the differ- 
 ent species, that the working and fighting insects 
 never expose themselves to the open air, without 
 the greatest necessity ; but either travel under- 
 ground, or within such trees and substances as 
 tli ey destroy. If that necessity occurs, they 
 make pipes, of the same composition as their 
 nests, varying the materials according to their 
 kind : one species using red day, another black 
 clay, and a third a woody substance cemented 
 with gums, as a security from the attacks of their 
 enemies; particularly the common ant, which, 
 being defended by a strong, horny shell, is more 
 than a match for them, and, when they can get 
 at them, rapaciously seize them, and drag them 
 to their nests for food for their young brood. If 
 any accident breaks these pipes, they repair the 
 breach with all speed. Instinct guides them to 
 perform their office in the creation, by mostly 
 confining their attacks to trees that are beginning 
 to decay, or such timber as has been severed 
 from its root for use, and would decay in time. 
 Vigorous, healthy trees do not require to be de- 
 stroyed. 
 
38 
 
 stroyed, and, accordingly, tliesc consumers have 
 
 no taste for them. 
 
 On opening one of their hills, a general alarm 
 is excited. Some of the fighting insects imme- 
 diately run to the place, and appear to survey 
 the mischief, though they can only do so by 
 feeling, as it may be remembered that they are 
 blind: their quick motions express terror and 
 rage, arid they bite fiercely every thing within 
 reach. JBy striking their forceps against the 
 nest, they make a ticking kind of noise, which 
 the labourers seem to understand, as they gene- 
 rally reply to it by a hissing. After some time, 
 if ali is quiet, the fighters retire into the nest; 
 and the working insects fill lip the chasm with 
 fresh mortar, working with great regularity and 
 dispatch. The soldiers have, by this time, dis- 
 appeared, except here and there one, in the 
 midst of several hundred labourers, w ho seems 
 to overlook their work, and hasten their opera- 
 tions by a stroke with his forceps, though lie 
 never assists them in their labour. 
 
 On renewing the attack, the same scene is 
 repeated: but it is remarkable, that each class 
 adheres to its own instincts; for, let the emer- 
 gency be ever so great, the one order never at- 
 tempts to fight, or the other to work. 
 
 Mr. Smeathman relates, that, as he was one 
 day on a shooting expedition, he perceived a 
 
 numerous 
 
39 
 
 numerous body of a very large species of ter- 
 mites, that issued out of a hole, and marched 
 rapidly forward, in two parties, chiefly com- 
 posed of the working insects; though they were 
 attended by soldiers scattered amongst them, as 
 if to keep them in order. During their march, 
 which seems to have continued some time, seve- 
 ral of the fighting insects mounted up the plants 
 which overhung the path the troop pursued, 
 and placing themselves on (he points of the 
 leaves, which were from ten to fifteen inches 
 above the ground, frequently tapped the leaf 
 with their forceps, which produced a general 
 hiss, and a quicker pace. After watching their 
 progress for more than an hour, they began to 
 descend into the earth, by two or three holes. 
 It is remarkable that this kind were furnished 
 with two conspicuous eyes, and, consequently, 
 fitted for these excursions aboveground. 
 
 It is not necessary to point out all the pecu- 
 liarities of instinct of each distinct species; but 
 it may be curious to observe the varieties of the 
 form and situation of their nests. One kind 
 forms upright cylinders of well-tempered black 
 earth or clay, about three quarters of a yard 
 high, and covered with a roof of the same mate- 
 rial, in the shape of a cone, projecting, on all 
 sides, beyond the pillar. After one of these 
 
 turrets 
 
40 
 
 turrets is finished, it is neither altered nor en- 
 larged; but if the community becomes too nu- 
 merous for the habitation, the foundation of 
 another turret is laid, within a few inches of the 
 first. These turrets are often increased to the 
 number of five or six, at the foot of the same 
 tree, in the recesses of the woods. Within, 
 they are divided into a vast number of irregular 
 cells, but by no means so varied and artfully 
 disposed as the interior of the hills of the termes 
 bellicosus. 
 
 Another species varies both as to the substance 
 and situation of its nests. They are composed 
 of small particles of wood, made into a sort of 
 paste with the gums and juices of trees; and 
 are frequently fixed between the arms of trees; 
 often surrounding the branches, at the height of 
 seventy or eighty feet from the ground; being of 
 a round or oval shape, and of a very large 
 size. 
 
 The termites, as has been already said, abound 
 in all tropical countries; but their huge nests are 
 most numerous in places not fully cultivated. 
 As far as relates to their own wants, and the 
 particular office for which they are designed, 
 their instincts are admirable, and afford a strik- 
 ing instance of the exact adaptation of the means 
 to the end. 
 
 A more 
 
41 
 
 A more full account of their economy and in» 
 ternal management might have been given ; but, 
 it is apprehended, that enough has been shown, 
 to prove that this creature is amply endued with 
 such an instinctive principle of action as enables 
 it to pursue its own interest in the most perfect 
 manner, and to fulfil the destination of its Great 
 Creator. 
 
 LETTER 
 
42 
 
 LETTER VI. 
 
 FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 
 
 M Y DEAR CAROLINE , 
 
 The patience you have shown in your 
 misfortunes, and the excellent use of your time 
 in retirement, have made you a great favourite 
 vvilii my father and mother; as they flatter them- 
 selves that I shall profit by your example, and, 
 in due time, become a very good girl. 1 hope 
 s o too; but I have a great deal to overcome be- 
 fore I can be half so amiable as you are. You 
 ore contented under the greatest disappointments, 
 whilst the most insignificant trifle puts me out of 
 humour. Yesterday I had set my mind upon 
 taking a ride with a pleasant parly of young 
 people, but nothing would content my mother, 
 but that I should stay with her at home, to re- 
 ceive an old gentleman, who had engaged to 
 spend the afternoon with her; because he is a 
 philosopher, and your letter on instinct must be 
 shown to him. I submitted with a very ill 
 grace, and was some time before I could recover 
 the serenity of my countenance. 
 
 Our visitor made rate some amends for my 
 disappointment, by a pretty anecdote* which he 
 
 * {t$v. John HaJPs Travels ia Scotland. 
 
 related^ 
 
43 
 
 related, as a proof that something like sagacity, 
 superior to instinct, on particular occasions, ex- 
 cites animals to deviate from their accustomed 
 habits. 
 
 “Whilst I was travelling in Scotland,” said 
 he, “as I was one day amusing myself with the 
 objects within my view, on the road between 
 Huntley and Portsoy, I observed two magpies 
 hopping round a gooseberry-bush, in a small 
 garden near a poor-looking house, in a peculiar 
 manner, and flying out and into the bush. I 
 stepped aside to see wlmt they were doing, and 
 found, from the poor man and his wife, that, as 
 there are no trees all around for some miles, 
 these magpies, several succeeding years, had 
 built their nest, and brought up their young, in 
 this bush; and, that foxes, cats, hawks, &c, 
 might not interrupt them, they had barricadoed 
 not only their nest, but had encircled the bush 
 with briars and thorns, in a formidable manner; 
 nay, so completely, that it would have cost 
 even a fox, cunning as he is, some days’ labour 
 to get into the nest. 
 
 “The materials in the inside of the nest were 
 soft, warm, and comfortable; but all on the out* 
 side so rough, so strong and firmly entwined 
 with the bush, that, without a hedge-knife, 
 hatch-bill, or something of the kind, even a 
 man could not* without much pain and trouble* 
 
 gel 
 
44 
 
 get at their young ; for, from the outside to the 
 inside of the nest, extended as long as my arm. 
 
 u They fed the young brood with frogs, mice, 
 worms, or any thing living, within their power 
 to subdue. It once happened that one of the 
 magpies having seized a rat, which it was not 
 able to kill, one of the young ones came out of 
 the nest to its mother and the rat, while they 
 were fighting on the outside of the bush, and 
 assisted her to kill it; which they were not able 
 to accomplish, till the father, arriving with a 
 dead mouse, also lent his aid. 
 
 u These magpies had been faithful to one 
 another for several summers, and drove off their 
 young, as well as every one else that attempted 
 to take possession of their nest. This they care- 
 fully repaired and fortified in the spring, with 
 strong, rough, prickly sticks, that they some- 
 times brought to it by uniting their force, one 
 at each end pulling it along, when they were 
 not able to lift it from the ground.” 
 
 Believing that the whole circle of naturalists 
 at the Parsonage cannot find you such another 
 pair of magpies, I send you the narrative ; to 
 which I shall add an instance of the sagacity of 
 the poet Cowper’s dog Beau, commemorated 
 in verse by his master. 
 
 Thf. 
 
45 
 
 The DOG and the WATER-LILY 
 
 The noon was shady, and soft airs 
 Swept Ouse’s silent tide. 
 
 When, ’scap’d from literary cares, 
 
 I wander’d on his side. 
 
 My spaniel, prettiest of his race. 
 
 And high in pedigree, 
 
 (Two nymphs, adorn’d with every grace. 
 
 That spaniel found for me,) 
 
 Now wanton’d, lost in flags and reeds. 
 
 Now starting into sight. 
 
 Pursued the swallow o’er the meads, 
 
 With scarce a slower tiight. 
 
 It was the time when Ouse display’d 
 His lilies newly blown ; 
 
 Their beauties I intent survey’d. 
 
 And one I wish’d my own. 
 
 With cane extended I sought 
 To steer it close to land ; 
 
 Rut still the prize, though nearly caught. 
 
 Escap’d my eager hand. 
 
 Beau mark’d my unsuccessful pains. 
 
 With fixt, considerate face; 
 
 And puzzling, for his puppy brains 
 To comprehend the case. 
 
 But, with a cherup clear and strong. 
 
 Dispersing all his dream, 
 
 I thence withdrew ; and follow’d long 
 The windings of the stream. 
 
 M 
 
45 
 
 My ramble finish’d, I return’d. 
 
 Beau trotting far before. 
 
 The floating wreath again discern’d. 
 
 And plunging, left the shore. 
 
 I saw him with that lily cropp’d. 
 
 Impatient swim to meet 
 
 Mv quick approach, and soon he dropp’d 
 The treasure at my feet. 
 
 Charm’d with the sight, the world, I cried; 
 Shall hear of this thy deed ; 
 
 My dog shall mortify the pride 
 Of man’s superior breed. 
 
 But, chief, myself I will enjoin. 
 
 Awake at duty’s call, 
 
 To show a love as prompt as thine, 
 
 To Him who gi ves me all. 
 
 I cannot help thinking that you must lead a 
 humdrum sort of a life., notwithstanding the 
 romantic beauties of your cottage, and your 
 determination to be happy ; yet I should like to 
 mount an air-balloon, and take an hour’s peep 
 at you and your gentle Rachel, of whom I am 
 half jealous; though I am desirous of sharing 
 her affection with you, my Caroline, provided 
 you promise to reserve the largest half of your 
 heart for 
 
 Emily. 
 
 LETTER 
 
47 
 
 LETTER VIE 
 
 rROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 
 
 DEAR EMILY , 
 
 Your friend’s description of the artful 
 contrivances of those ingenious magpies, would 
 make ample amends for staying at home. The 
 fondness of animals for their young is truly sur- 
 prising ; and when called forth by particular 
 circumstances, seems to give them powers be- 
 yond the common limits of their faculties. 
 
 A few evenings ago, as I was enjoying a walk 
 with my dear Rachel, she led me through some 
 verdant meadows, covered with the sheep of a 
 neighbouring farmer*. Our path lay within 
 a hundred yards of a clear brook, formed by a 
 small stream that descends from a mountain. 
 Many ewes and lambs were feeding near us, 
 but one in particular drew our attention, by 
 the singularity of its motions. She approached 
 us, bleating very loudly, and, after looking piti- 
 fully in my face, ran off towards the brook. At 
 first we regarded her with a careless eye: but, on 
 a repetition of the same actions, bleating still 
 louder, and again running towards the water, 
 
 * This anecdote is attested as a fact by Mr. Collet, in the 
 Monthly Magazine for December, *1808. 
 
 showing 
 
48 
 
 showing an anxiety for us to follow her, by re- 
 peatedly looking behind her till she reached the 
 brook, where she stood still, she excited more 
 notice; and having watched her for some mi- 
 nutes, w ithout being able to account for her be- 
 haviour, we continued our walk, and had nearly 
 reached the gate that led into the next field, 
 when she came running after us the third time, 
 and seemed yet more earnest, if possible, than 
 before. We then determined to follow her, in 
 order to discover the cause of her uneasiness. 
 As soon as we turned towards the rivulet, she 
 ran with ail her speed, looking frequently be- 
 hind her. When we reached the brink of the 
 stream, she peeped over the edge of a hillock 
 into the water, looked up in our faces, as if to 
 solicit our commiseration ; and bleated with the 
 most significant voice I ever heard from one of 
 those creatures we call dumb. Judge of our 
 surprise, when, on looking over the brink, we 
 perceived her lamb standing close under the 
 hillock, with the water nearly over its back. 
 Rachel ran to the farm-house for help, whilst I 
 staid by the anxious mother, to assure her of our 
 assistance. The lamb was presently rescued 
 from its dangerous situation, when its fond dam 
 began to lick and suckle it; looking up at us 
 with pleasure, if not gratitude, and expressing 
 
 her 
 
¥J 
 
 her sensations by several cries, very different from 
 those bleatings she had uttered in her distress. 
 
 The delight we felt was little inferior to that of 
 this tender creature, whose maternal solicitude 
 impelled her to a conduct that nearly approach- 
 ed to reason. Indeed, it is extremely difficult 
 to fix the limit where instinct ends, and the 
 reasoning faculty commences: so nearly inter- 
 woven are the gradations of being, that the dis- 
 tinctions are scarcely perceptible. 
 
 The farmer’s wife was also well pleased at 
 saving her lambkin, and entreated us to rest 
 ourselves in her parlour, and partake of a bowl 
 of raspberries and cream. We accepted her 
 hospitable invitation, and were well entertained 
 with her conversation, as she was qualified to 
 give us much interesting information concerning 
 the sheep. “ Our old shepherd,” said she, 
 “ has had long experience in his business: he 
 can readily distinguish, by the cries of the mo- 
 ther, whether a lamb be lost by drowning, fall- 
 ing into a pit, or destroyed by birds or beasts of 
 prey. In the two first cases, she runs about in 
 a frantic, disordered manner, utters a wild sort of 
 cry, comes hastily back, and will look into the 
 bole or pit where it is. If the lamb be carried 
 away, her behaviour is still more disordered : she 
 runs about from one of her neighbour’s lambs to 
 d another, 
 
50 
 
 another, and the tremor of her voice shows the 
 perturbation she suffers. Sometimes she ex* 
 presses her woes in a long, melancholy tone ; at 
 other times, her bleat is a wild, inarticulate 
 strain, expressive of her anguish. There are 
 few creatures,” continued she, tc that defend 
 their young with more warmth, as long as they 
 are able, than the sheep; though, at other times, 
 they are remarkable for the meekness of their 
 spirit. When we put them to their mothers 
 again after weaning, each sheep knows her own 
 lamb, and ever after associates with it.” 
 
 Upon this, I enquired how it was possible she 
 could know that the lambs were recognised by 
 their mothers; for to me all sheep have the same 
 countenances. u So far from that,” replied the 
 farmer’s wife, “ the shepherds know every sheep 
 of the flock; and my husband remembers an in* 
 stance of a man being hanged for sheep-stealing, 
 at Bury St. Edmund’s, on the oath of the pro- 
 secutor, who swore to the, countenance of the 
 sheep.” We all agreed that we should be sorry 
 to deprive a fellow-creature of life, on a circum- 
 stance that appears to us so uncertain : yet it was 
 admitted as sufficient evidence in a court of 
 justice. Rachel remarked, that though the in- 
 nocent and gentle disposition of the sheep ren- 
 dered it an amiable animal, she thought it had 
 
 but 
 
51 
 
 but little intelligence or attachment. The far- 
 mer’s wife said that they were not so deficient in 
 either, as they appeared to those not conversant 
 with them; as she could prove, by two stories 
 she had heard from their shepherd, who was a 
 Scotchman, and had witnessed the facts*. 
 
 “ No animal,” resumed she, iC is more attach- 
 ed to that spot of earth on which it was reared* 
 than the sheep. A ewe that was driven from 
 Scotland into Yorkshire, made her escape, and 
 after passing through towns, crossing rivers, &c, 
 revisited her native spot in the hills of Annan- 
 dale. Another from Perthshire came back to 
 Hundishope, a store-farm nearly twenty-three 
 miles distant from Edinburgh. When she 
 reached Stirling, it was fair-day: she durst not 
 venture through the town amongst the popu- 
 lace, but rested herself at its north-side till the 
 fair dispersed, and came through late in the 
 evening. ’ 
 
 Our repast being finished, we thanked ou* 
 kind hostess for our entertainment, and returned 
 by another path, along the sea-shore, leading 
 over the crag of a projecting rock, which conw 
 manded a most glorious view of the setting sun^ 
 gradually sinking into the ocean, and tinting 
 the waves with the richest colours. Whilst I 
 
 * Repertory of Arts. 
 D * 
 
 was 
 
52 
 
 was enjoying the extensive prospect, Rachel 
 exclaims : a Observe, beneath, that crowd of 
 fishermen: they seem to have found something 
 curious in the water; let us descend, and see 
 what it is.” 
 
 We accordingly did so, and found a worm 
 of prodigious length, perhaps more than twenty 
 feet long, and not thicker than a crow-quill. 
 The fishermen said they had seen some of the 
 same species as many yards in length; but we 
 scarcely gave them credit for their assertion, 
 because that kind of people love to deal in 
 wonders. Rachel knew* at the first glimpse, 
 that it was a gordius marinus*; and said that 
 its power of contraction and extension was so 
 great, that it could not be measured : for, that 
 Mr. Palmer had put one of eight feet, alive, 
 into spirits, and it instantly shrunk to one 
 foot, but increased twice its former size in bulk. 
 Whilst we were looking at it, it twisted itself 
 into an indescribable variety of convolutions : 
 sometimes forming a true lover’s knot, or twin- 
 ing into the line of beauty ; and in its motions 
 frequently described the most graceful swells 
 imaginable. I wanted to give the men a trifle 
 to carry it home; but Rachel said it was 
 scarcely possible to preserve it in its natural 
 
 * Transactions of the Linnasan Society. 
 
 state ; 
 
53 
 
 state; for, if suffered to die in sea-water, one 
 part will decay, whilst the other is alive: and 
 so sensible is this creature to any thing con- 
 trary to its nature, that even fresh water occa- 
 sions an immediate contraction. 
 
 Upon our return home, we gave an account 
 of the objects that had excited our attention, 
 when Mrs. Saville, who often contrives to draw 
 moral instruction from trifling circumstances, 
 remarked, that the pleasure of this huge worm 
 seems to consist in its agility, and perpetual 
 change of form, which probably arises from a 
 back-bone of balls and sockets, like the serpent 
 tribe. u This species of enjoyment,” said she, 
 is wholly animal; yet it is adapted to the class 
 of existence to which the gordius belongs. The 
 gradations of enjoyment, are as regular as the 
 orders of creatures, or the degrees of intellectual 
 capacity. Man is superior to every other in- 
 habitant of this globe: his rational powers en- 
 able him to turn his attention on the objects by 
 which he is surrounded : he can investigate their 
 structure, their habits, and the laws that direct 
 them to pursue their own good: and he alone 
 can refer the arrangement and government of 
 this beautiful world, with all the creatures that 
 dwell on it, to that Great Source of goodness 
 and intelligence that created it.” 
 
 Rachel 
 
Rachel, with ready recollection, immediately 
 applied those lines of Burns, in confirmation of 
 her mother’s assertion— that every creature has 
 its own peculiar happiness. 
 
 The partridge loves the fruitful fells ; 
 
 The plover loves the mountains; 
 
 The woodcock haunts the lonely delis; 
 
 The soaring heron the fountains: 
 
 Thro' lofty groves the ring-dove roves. 
 
 The path of men to shun it; 
 
 The iiazcl bush o’erhangs the thrush ; 
 
 The spreading thorn the linnet. 
 
 Thus, ev’ry kind their pleasure find, 
 
 The savage and the tender: 
 
 Some social join, and leagues combine ; 
 
 / Some solitary wander. 
 
 This conversation was scarcely finished, than 
 Rachel, with more earnestness than usual, en- 
 quired whether Sarah had taken in her linnets; 
 for she that moment recollected that she had 
 Carelessly left them abroad, when she went from 
 home. “ They are safe,” replied Mrs. Savillc, 
 
 “ but, my dear girl, you have been on the point 
 of losing them both.” Rachel’s cheeks flushed 
 deeper red than usual at this intelligence. 
 
 “ You had left Robert at liberty,” continued 
 Mrs. Saville, “ and by some accident the fasten- 
 
55 
 
 itig of Henry’s cage was undone; and just as 
 Fanny was bringing home the cows across the 
 lawn, she perceived him at the cage door, ready 
 to join his friend. She hastened towards him, 
 before he had time to escape.” 
 
 fn order to make this account intelligible, 
 I must tell you the history of Rachel’s linnets. 
 They were caught by a nephew of her father’s, 
 when a school-boy, who is since dead; and 
 being great favourites with their master, Rachel 
 took them under her protection*. These birds 
 are very remarkable for an attachment to each 
 other, though they have not been brought up 
 together, and are both of the male sex. They 
 have now been kept several years, and their 
 friendship appears to be strengthened by time. 
 The first tokens of their mutual regard w ere ob- 
 served in the early part of their acquaintance: 
 when one sang, the other joined it; and at night, 
 each slept on that side of the cage which was 
 nearest his friend. At length their attachment 
 was more fully ascertained, when they were set 
 at liberty whilst their cages were cleaned. One 
 of these affectionate birds took the opportunity 
 of flying to the other’s cage, and they were after- 
 wards occasionally indulged with enjoying eacli 
 
 * Dr. Lettsom related these circumstances in the Monthly 
 
 Magazine. 
 
 other’s 
 
others company in the same cage; when they 
 always expressed their high gratification, by 
 fluttering towards each other, joining their bills 
 together, and each gently picking the tongue of 
 his friend by turns. After some time, their 
 young master ventured to allow one of them to 
 fly abroad in the open air, whilst the cage of 
 the other was hung on the outsides of the win- 
 dow, as a pledge for the return of his friend. 
 Rachel grants this indulgence sometimes to one, 
 and sometimes to the other. They both appear 
 greatly delighted with the company of the wild 
 linnets, with whom they sport for several hours 
 together; but no temptation can allure them to 
 forsake each other. As soon as the hour of rest 
 approaches, they return to the empty cage, 
 which is placed near the other. Were both 
 allowed to go abroad together, it is not very 
 likely they would ever come home: but so 
 strong is their attachment, that they prefer cap- 
 tivity to separation. Should death divide these 
 fond friends, it is supposed that the survivor 
 would soon die with grief*. They were named 
 Robert and Henry, after two favourite school- 
 fellows of Rachel’s cousin; and, as he valued 
 them highly, she has tended them with great 
 care since his death. 
 
 * Which actually happened to l)r. Lettsom’s linnets. 
 
 if 
 
57 
 
 If Rachel had not such a particular motive 
 for keeping these birds, they would have been 
 set at liberty long ago; for she disapproves the 
 cruel custom of confining birds in cages. 
 
 I hear the summons for dinner, which obliges 
 me to put an abrupt termination to my letter. 
 Adieu. 
 
 Caroline. 
 
 d 5 
 
 LETTER 
 
58t 
 
 LETTER VIII. 
 
 FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 
 
 \ 
 
 MY DEAREST GIRD , 
 
 1 admire your friendly linnets, and think 
 they should have been named Damon and 
 Pythias, after the celebrated friends of ancient 
 story. They prove, at least, that birds have 
 affection, if they have not reason. But I can 
 assure you, that they are capable of attachment, 
 not only to their own species, but also to those 
 who feed them, and to the place where they 
 have been sheltered and nourished. 
 
 We are apt to consider sparrows as stupid, 
 and regard them with an unfavourable eye, be- 
 cause they eat a little of our corn; but a friend 
 of my mother’s related an instance of the saga- 
 city of one she had brought up tame from the 
 nest, that really astonishes me: yet, as she is a 
 person of strict veracity, you may believe it to 
 have happened exactly as she told it*. 
 
 Th is lady lived at Fulham at that time; and 
 when she went, for the winter, to her house in 
 London, which was situated near the Thames, 
 she conveyed the sparrow^ having covered his 
 
 * This anecdote is related oo the authority of Mrs, Powell 
 
 Tottenham. 
 
 cage, 
 
cage, in the carriage. After some months, the 
 window of the drawing-room was one day left 
 open, and, as the bird was suffered to fly tame 
 about the room, it took its flight, and was lost 
 without hope of recovery. 
 
 About ten days after this circumstance, she 
 had occasion to send a servant to Fulham, 
 who told the maid left there, of the unfortunate 
 accident of losing the sparrow, and his mistress’s 
 concern on the occasion. Upon which she ob- 
 served, that for a day or two a sparrow had 
 come constantly into the kitchen, and, with un- 
 usual familiarity, had placed itself upon the 
 chairs and dressers. It proved to be the sparrow 
 that had escaped from London, and had been a 
 week finding its way to Fulham: as it had taken 
 flight in quite a contrary direction, the window* 
 looking towards Northumberland Gardens. 
 
 The same bird, the following spring, formed 
 an attachment to a female of his own kind, and 
 made a nest ; and, in order to gather materials 
 for it, frequently visited the house, for bits of 
 rag or thread, which he carried away in his 
 beak. Sometimes he brought li is wife into the 
 parlour, and once was accompanied by all his 
 little ones; but they were soon alarmed, and flew 
 away. When they were able to take care of 
 themselves, he returned to his kind protectress, 
 and lived in the room as before. This faithful 
 
 creature 
 
60 
 
 creature met with an unfortunate end, being 
 accidentally crushed in a window-shutter. 
 
 Can your friend Mr. Palmer tell me by what 
 sense this bird was guided to the spot whence he 
 was taken ? It could not be sight, for he was 
 conveyed from one place to the other in such a 
 manner that he could not possibly trace bis way. 
 It is not likely that the sense of smelling could 
 have retained an influence for so many months. 
 Nor can I devise any known quality with which 
 birds are endowed, that can account for it. 
 You see that, in Imitation of you, I am becom- 
 ing a naturalist; and shall add to your store of 
 curious anecdotes of animals, whenever I meet 
 with any deserving your notice. 
 
 You remember that my father is a great 
 sportsman, and is generally accompanied, in 
 his shooting expeditions, by Mr. Craven, a re- 
 spectable fanner, who is one of his tenants. 
 When they return from the exploits of the day, 
 they generally engross all the conversation with 
 relating their sanguinary achievements, or the 
 hairbreadth escapes of the poor animals, who 
 owed their preservation, probably, more to the 
 bad aim of the marksman, than to the swiftness 
 of their wing. My patience is often exhausted- 
 by being obliged to listen to subjects in which I 
 feel so little interest, and which too often savour 
 of cruelty; for I can take no pleasure in the 
 
 destruction 
 
61 
 
 destruction of the meanest creature that breathes. 
 When we are at Woodlands, Mr. Craven is a 
 frequent guest. Though his manners are not ele- 
 gant, he is a man of observation and good 
 sense, and has availed himself of the advantages 
 of a country life, to become acquainted with the 
 habits of many animals that live wild around 
 him, as well as those domesticated in his farm- 
 yard; and, as he has no reluctance to display 
 his stock of knowledge, when admitted into our 
 circle, I was so fortunate as to give a turn to the 
 history of leaping over five-barred gates, and 
 similar feats of dexterity, by enquiring the means 
 used by the poor victims to elude the pursuit of 
 their enemies. This question led to the modes 
 of defence peculiar to different species of crea- 
 tures, and the alarm they give to their compa- 
 nions at sight of their natural enemies. 
 
 The appearance of a hawk, excites a note 
 expressive of fear in a hen turkey followed by 
 her brood, which is learnt by the young ones, 
 and afterwards applied by them to the same 
 purpose. 
 
 A rabbit apprized of danger, will convey the 
 intelligence to her neighbours, by thumping in 
 her burrow with her hinder feet. 
 
 Rooks, whilst they feed, are guarded by a 
 watchman, who perches on one of the tallest 
 trees near them, that lie may perceive an enemy 
 
 at 
 
m 
 
 a distance, and expresses alarm at the sight of 
 a man with a gun. 
 
 Fieldfares come to this island from Norway, 
 in winter, for the comforts of a milder climate, 
 and the berries in our hedges: they associate 
 in flocks, and, like other birds who live in soci- 
 ety, have a guardian to watch over their safety* 
 He is generally placed at the extremity of a 
 bush, rising on his wings ; and, if alarmed, gives 
 a peculiar and loud note of terror. The lap- 
 wing, who, after warning her young to conceal 
 themselves, by a note intelligible to them, upon 
 the approach of men or dogs towards her nest, 
 appears more terrified than before, in order to 
 deceive those she fears. 
 
 Partridges are still more artful : they pretend 
 to limp and scream before their pursuers, till 
 they have withdrawn them from their young. 
 
 In other instances, Nature has furnished ani- 
 mals with peculiar weapons of defence. The 
 petrel, which is a bird remarkable for fat, has 
 the singular capacity of squirting oil from its 
 bill, when it has no other means of annoying its 
 enemy. 
 
 The voluntary power of electrifying an enemy, 
 is possessed by the gymnotus electricus , in a sur- 
 prising degree, and is an irresistible defence 
 Against those whom it attacks. It is a native of 
 the river Surinam, in South America, and is 
 
 said 
 
63 
 
 said to exceed twenty feet in length. It can kill 
 a man, when irritated. The same faculty enables 
 it to seize its prey, by first benumbing it, and 
 then devouring it before it is recovered. Mr. 
 Hunter lias shown, that the organs productive 
 of this wonderful accumulation of electric matter, 
 are so divided by membranes, as to compose a 
 very extensive surface, and are supplied with 
 many pairs of nerves, larger than any other 
 nerves of the body. 
 
 The torpedo enjoys a similar power, in a less 
 degree; and some other fishes likewise. 
 
 Here is a mode of defence, of a very peculiar 
 kind; a proof, amongst many others, that Na- 
 ture uses a variety of means to effect the same 
 purpose. The echinus , or sea-hedgehog, is dif- 
 ferently armed, with moveable spines, resem- 
 bling those of the land animal of the same name. 
 Some sea-fish are defended by the protuberances 
 on their shells, which serve them for a fortifica- 
 tion. The instincts of the echinus , teach it to 
 foresee tempestuous weather, and it is furnished 
 with the means of resisting its effects. It fast- 
 ens itself firmly to plants or other substances, 
 at a great depth, by means of? tendrils* that re- 
 semble the horns of snails. Twelve hundred of 
 these cords have been counted in one animal. 
 When afloat, they are contracted between the 
 bases of their spines. 
 
 The 
 
64 
 
 The sea-blubber, or sea-nettle, would be a 
 most defenceless animal, being little more than 
 a lump of transparent jelly, and very slow in its 
 motions, were it not for a caustic quality, that 
 blisters the flesh of those that touch it, and 
 causes a painful degree of inflammation. 
 
 Fear is, no doubt, a great defence to those 
 creatures that owe their safety to flight, though 
 it seems that they often acquire a sense of danger 
 from experience ; for M. Bougainville relates, 
 that in the Falkland Islands, the fowls settled 
 on the heads and shoulders of his people, and 
 the quadrupeds ran about their feet. Such a 
 scene would remind one of the garden of Eden. 
 
 I have now given you the chief points of 
 information which I drew from my sporting 
 acquaintance, who has wandered far beyond his 
 own sphere; hoping to receive from you further 
 hints on this amusing topic. 
 
 The Misses Ormond, who, you may remember, 
 were sometimes admitted into our parties when 
 you were at Mr. Campbell’s, are come to pass 
 the summer within a mile of Woodlands, in con- 
 sequence of a large estate, with a title, coming 
 unexpectedly to their father, through the acci- 
 dental death of a very distant relation; who, at 
 the early age of twenty-four, was killed by a fall 
 from his horse, in a fox-chase. It is a pleasant 
 walk to Belvoir Lodge, and I have called upon 
 
 them 
 
65 
 
 them frequently, hoping they would be agree- 
 able companions in the retirement of the country ; 
 but their former inclination to pride and airs of 
 consequence, are so much increased by this sud- 
 den elevation, that I am sometimes inclined to 
 relinquish them, were it not that I have the va- 
 nity to hope I may lead them to a degree of 
 improvement, in their tastes and sentiments. 
 The other day, Charlotte, with the most pro- 
 voking coolness, enquired whether I knew what 
 was become of you. I showed her our corre- 
 spondence. She smiled, and said you were very 
 romantic; but though she pretended to feel con- 
 tempt for the obscurity of your present mode of 
 life, she could not deny some praise to the mag- 
 nanimity you have shown in adversity. 
 
 Continue, my dear girl, to instruct me by a 
 recital of your occupations and amusements: 
 you have already wrought a material change 
 in the mind and sentiments of your affectionate 
 friend, 
 
 Emily. 
 
 LETTER 
 
66 
 
 LETTER IX. 
 
 3TK0M CA HO LIKE TO EMILY * 
 
 KfEAm EMILY y 
 
 Your anecdotes have amused us extremely, 
 and led us to propose the subject of the modes 
 of defence used by animals, as well as the wea- 
 pons given them for that purpose, to Mr. 
 Palmer, for his next lecture; but, as be re- 
 quires time to collect matter for our instruction 
 on this curious topic, I shall dismiss that for 
 the present, and relate a remarkable instance of 
 ingenuity, seeming to arise from reflection, in 
 two goats, that happened lately near this place. 
 
 On the crag of a high rock, overhanging the 
 sea, are the ruins of an ancient castle, once the 
 seat of feudal grandeur, but now serving only 
 to heighten the romantic wildness of the prospect. 
 One of the bastions remains nearly entire, along 
 which, at a great height, runs a projecting 
 ledge, perhaps a foot wide. A couple of goats, 
 grazing about the ramparts, by some means 
 got down upon the ledge, and one of them ad- 
 vancing till it arrived at an angle, was enabled 
 to turn; but, in its way back, met its compa- 
 nion, which produced a most perplexing di- 
 lemma, for it was impossible to pass each oilier. 
 
 Rachel 
 
cr 
 
 Rachel and I having wandered near these ruins* 
 in order to gather some wild strawberries, which 
 grow in the neighbouring woods, arrived at 
 this critical moment, and were witnesses of 
 their distress, without being able to assist them. 
 The poor animals were sensible of their unfor- 
 tunate situation, and uttered the most doleful 
 cries. After anxiously viewing them for some 
 minutes, we ran to some cottages at a little dis- 
 tance, to see if it was possible to discover any 
 means of extricating them. Men, women, and 
 children, led by curiosity, followed us to the 
 spot; but they could only sympathize with the 
 poor animals, without daring to attempt their 
 relief, lest they should be precipitated on the 
 rocks beneath. Many plans were proposed, 
 but all ineffectual. After a considerable time, 
 \vhen hope had almost given place to despair, 
 one of the goats was observed to kneel down, 
 with great caution, and crouch as close as it 
 could lie; which was no sooner done, than the 
 other, with great dexterity, walked over him, 
 and they both returned the way they came, iri 
 perfect safety *. 
 
 Did not this look like a concerted scheme, 
 between these two goats, to get free from the 
 
 * This circumstance actually happened on the rampart* 
 ©£ Plymouth CiUde^ and is attested by Captain Martin. 
 
 terrible 
 
68 
 
 terrible apprehension of starving on this preci- 
 pice? You may believe, that a general joy was 
 felt at the success of their stratagem, and no 
 small surprise at the contrivance. To you, who 
 have probably never seen a goat but in a tame, 
 domestic state, the story may seem improbable; 
 but it would more easily gain credit from an in- 
 habitant of these mountainous regions, who must 
 often have observed the wild goats climb with 
 rapidity and elegant ease, to the highest pinna- 
 cle of the most rugged rocks; and when they 
 have attained to a height that seems adapted 
 only to be the resting-place of the towering 
 eagle, frisk about as carelessly as a wanton child 
 would do on a grass-plat, and then look down, 
 without fear, upon the vales below. 
 
 No animal more strikingly demonstrates the 
 harmony that prevails between the instincts and 
 inclinations of the inferior classes of creation, 
 and the places destined for their abode, than 
 the goat. Nature has formed it to inhabit wild 
 and uncultivated regions, where nothing grows 
 but a few alpine mosses and lichens, a little 
 wild thyme, or scattered blades of mountain 
 grass : but these are the very food the goat de- 
 lights to regale upon. 
 
 There is another coincidence that is too re- 
 markable to be ascribed to chance : their hoofs 
 are calculated exactly to secure them on the 
 
 brink 
 
69 
 
 brink of the steepest precipices ; they are hollow 
 underneath, with sharp edges, like the inside of a 
 spoon, which prevents them from sliding off the 
 rocky eminences they frequent. A foot that is 
 so nicely adapted to the purpose required, by an 
 animal whose native character leads it to climb 
 amongst rocks and declivities, would have been 
 useless or inconvenient to a creature which 
 grazed on a level. Its disposition, also, accords 
 with the suppleness of its limbs, and the agility 
 of its motions: always restless and active, it 
 walks, stopsshort, runs, skips, jumps, advances, 
 retreats, exposes itself to view, Ihen hides itself 
 behind a thicket, or flies out of sight; and all 
 without any apparent motive, but the pleasure 
 of changing from one pasture to another. But 
 with so much caprice, they seem to have a ten- 
 derness that is amiable; they soon become tame, 
 and will feed out of the hand of those to whom 
 they are attached. Buffon says they will easily 
 suffer themselves to be sucked, even by young 
 children : hence, the fables of heroes nourished 
 by a goat: he adds, that adders, and that 
 strange-looking bird, the goat-sucker, fasten to 
 their teats during the night, and deprive them 
 of their milk. 
 
 They are very numerous in this country. Mrs. 
 Saville often makes cheese of goats’ milk ; and the 
 
 flesh 
 
70 
 
 flesh of the kid is thought preferable to lamb* 
 The haunches are frequently salted, and used 
 instead of bacon. But I cannot say that I ad- 
 mire the flesh of the old ones, as it has a strong, 
 peculiar taste. 
 
 Do not suppose that I lead the life of a recluse : 
 though at so great a distance from the metropo- 
 lis, we have our festivities. If they are of a differ- 
 ent kind from balls and masquerades, they are, 
 at least, full as innocent, and sometimes leave a 
 tranquillity and satisfaction on the mind, that 
 can only be procured from those pleasures that 
 consist more in making others happy, than in 
 present self-gratification. Mrs. SaviJlc, whose 
 principal study is to do good, promotes the 
 welfare and establishment in life, of those girls 
 who have been brought up in her school, after 
 they have left it. If they form a matrimonial 
 connexion that meets her approbation, she 
 either gives them a wedding dinner, or supplies 
 them with some useful article towards house- 
 keeping, according to the circumstances of the 
 bridegroom. You will, perhaps, think this 
 liberality very inconsistent with the narrow for- 
 tune to which I formerly told you she was limit- 
 ed; but, by denying herself every superfluous 
 indulgence, she has always something to spare 
 for the wants of others; which she loves to re- 
 lieve 
 
71 
 
 lleve in that delicate manner that consults their 
 feelings, as well as their necessities. 
 
 Last week, a young woman, who, from the 
 excellence of her conduct, had been one of her 
 favourite scholars, gave her hand to the son of 
 a small farmer in the neighbourhood. As his 
 relations were numerous, and it is customary to 
 invite every branch of the family, and all inti- 
 mate acquaintance, to assist at the joyful solem- 
 nity, it was decided that the feast should be cele- 
 brated at the house of the new-married couple, 
 and that Mrs. Saville should only furnish the 
 materials for the dinner, and honour the com- 
 pany, for an hour or two, with her presence, 
 attended by myself and Rachel, who performed 
 the office of bridemaids. Mr. Palmer united 
 the happy pair in the holy bands of wedlock; 
 and afterwards described the festivities of the 
 day, in a sort of doggrel verse, more remarkable 
 for its drollery, than for its poetical excellence; 
 and better adapted to give you a general notion 
 of the hospitality and merriment commonly 
 observed in this country, on these occasions, 
 than an exact account of this particular wed- 
 ding, where order and moderation were care- 
 fully observed. 
 
 A WELSH 
 
72 
 
 A WELSH WEDDING *. 
 
 A fire of square peat, and sufficiently dried. 
 
 Was spread on the hearth, and at least four feet wide; 
 Over which took their station, six kettles or more, 
 Which promis’d a feast when they open’d their store ; 
 And round this flat furnace, to keep them quite hot, 
 Were plac’d twelve more vessels, which held, — I know 
 not what. 
 
 Four cooks, in short bed-gowns, attend by desire. 
 
 Like the witches in Macbeth, to stir up the Are. 
 
 Forty trenchers, with dull knives, and forks made no 
 brighter, 
 
 Were spread on some napkins, that once had been whiter; 
 Supported by planks, forty feet long or more. 
 Completely were rais’d on the grass out of door. 
 
 But here we are bound the word table to offer, 
 
 That our verses’ great dignity never may suffer. 
 
 The table prepar’d, and the cooking completed, 
 
 ’Twas perfectly needful the guests should be seated. 
 Some boards were erected, with order so neat; 
 
 But they prov’d too hard for a comfortable seat: 
 
 A number of cushions were instantly made, 
 
 But not with a needle — no, form’d with a spade. 
 
 The finest of ling, root and branch, from the common. 
 Par’d off, prov’d a cushion for man and for woman. 
 Now folks, male and female, came in by whole dozens. 
 Of neighbours, acquaintance, of friends, and of cousins, 
 ft excited surprise, from a region of rocks. 
 
 That orderly people should issue by flocks. 
 
 Black stockings, blue cloaks, and men’s hats all admire. 
 Which appear’d to be every female’s attire. 
 
 * Mr. Hutton was the author of these lines. 
 
 While 
 
73 
 
 While many a longing eye glanc’d at -the board, 
 
 The word dinner sounded— acceptable word ! 
 
 Five butts of boil’d beef, of a gigantic size. 
 
 On the board took their station, with joy and surprise ; 
 On these close attended, as guards rang’d for pleasure. 
 As many mash’d peas as would heap a strike measure; 
 With cabbage a pyramid, much like a steeple: 
 
 All these were surrounded with thirty-eight people* 
 The moment arriving when dinner was o’er. 
 
 The places were taken by thirty-eight more ; 
 
 And then a third set, nearly equal to these. 
 
 Sat down to the cabbage, the beef, and the peas; 
 Besides about fifty remaining behind. 
 
 Who stuck to the tankard, for none of them din’d. 
 
 And now an old dish, open’d wide at each sinner. 
 
 As if it would say — (< Pay a shilling for dinner.” 
 
 Eight strike of brown malt, which Caernarvon had 
 seen. 
 
 And cost the bride’s father, two pounds and fourteen, 
 
 \\ as brew’d into drink, that would make one man mad* 
 But given a second, would make his heart glad. 
 
 The glass going, round — no— the mug, I would say. 
 The lads and the lasses began to look gay ; 
 
 To smile on each other, to toy and to joke : 
 
 I was an observer, but not a word spoke. 
 
 The bard, in a rapture, his harp handled soon,, 
 
 And twang’d with his fingers, to try if in tune ; 
 
 The people selecting and pairing began ; 
 
 Each lass was indulg'd with the choice of her man. 
 Then Amazons, more than like fairies, were seen. 
 
 Full thirty gay couple to dance on the green. 
 
 Joy held his firm station till morning was come. 
 
 When each swain had the pleasure to lead his nymph 
 home*. 
 
 B 
 
 Wo 
 
74 
 
 We paid a visit to the bride, as soon as we 
 thought she had had time to put her domestic 
 affairs in order, and had the satisfaction to see 
 the good effects of Mrs. Saville’s instructions. 
 We found her busily employed with her spin- 
 ning-wheel at the door, and every part of her 
 dress perfectly neat, though free from any at- 
 tempt at finery. She appeared much pleased 
 with this mark of notice; and, with a sort of 
 conscious pride, showed us every corner of her 
 house, which might serve as a pattern for others 
 in the same station. Though meanly furnished, 
 every thing was in its place: even the clothes in 
 her drawers were arranged in the neatest manner. 
 Mrs. Saville frequently makes a round of such 
 calls amongst her poor neighbours, that she may 
 know who best deserves her bounty, and in 
 what manner she can most properly relieve their 
 wants. On these occasions, she gives her advice 
 where she sees it necessary ; but so kindly does 
 she mix encouragement with reproof, that she 
 renders even that welcome. These visits are con- 
 sidered as proofs of her favour, and every one is 
 eager to obtain them. If she passes a cottage 
 door, the owner is certain of having incurred her 
 displeasure; and so sincerely is she beloved, that 
 few are happy till they have regained her es- 
 teem. In all times of difficulty, they apply to 
 her for counsel and help: it would charm you to 
 
 see 
 
see with what condescension and sympathy she 
 listens to their complaints, soothes their sorrows, 
 and leads them, with a gentle hand, from error 
 to the right way. 
 
 Though rigidly exact in her own conduct, 
 she is always ready to soften the faults of others; 
 for she often says, had she been exposed to the 
 same temptations, with so few advantages, she 
 might have been guilty of the same; and so far 
 from assuming to herself any praise, she fre- 
 quently remarks, that much of the applause the 
 best receive, is because their perverse inclinations 
 are not seen. 
 
 Can I live with such a woman, and not endea- 
 vour, at a humble distance, to imitate her vir- 
 tues. My misfortunes, as they appear in the 
 eye of the world, have been the greatest blessing 
 that has been bestowed on your happy 
 
 Caroline. 
 
 e2 
 
 LETTER 
 
LETTER X. 
 
 FltOM THE SAME TO THE SAME* 
 
 Mr DEAR EMltY $ 
 
 Mr. Palmer came in this morning, aftef 
 breakfast, to tell ns of a remarkable Circumstance 
 that had happened in a large room belonging to 
 the parsonage house, which is an ancient build- 
 ing*. A very unpleasant smell had been ob« 
 Served, for some time, in this apartment, for 
 which it was not easy to account, when, having 
 occasion to employ a carpenter, to make a small 
 opening in the wainscot, in order to repair it, 
 out flew such multitudes of bats, as really 
 darkened the place; according to Mr. Palmer’s 
 belief, not less than two hundred. It appears 
 that they crept in, through a small crevice be- 
 tween the bricks, on the outside of the wall, and 
 so concealed themselves in the cavity between the 
 wall and the wainscot. How long they had been 
 there is uncertain; but long enough to bring 
 forth and half rear their young, who flew after 
 their parents with that fond attachment that is 
 so striking amongst the various tribes of animals* 
 
 * A circumstance, in all respects similar, happened a few 
 years ago, in a very old house at Tottenham High Cross. 
 
 Some 
 
77 
 
 Some of them, which were in the act of sucking 
 when they were alarmed, clung to their breasts 
 without letting go their hold*. The windows 
 being open, many escaped; but a great number 
 were buffeted to death by the servants, who 
 were collected together by the cries of astonish- 
 ment uttered by the carpenter, who was teally 
 terrified at such an unusual concourse of living 
 creatures, that proceeded, as if by enchantment, 
 from the wall. 
 
 Mr. Palmer brought one of those that had 
 been killed, in his pocket, that we might examine 
 the peculiarities of its structure; especially its 
 wings, which consist of an extremely thin, light, 
 delicate, membrane, that extends from one 
 shoulder, entirely round the body, to the other, 
 and connects the fore and hind legs together. 
 From the delicacy of its texture, and its flexibi- 
 lity, the creature can fold this membrane into a 
 very small compass, when it inclines to rest; 
 but when its wants impel it to take flight, it has, 
 likewise, the power of stretching it out like a 
 sail, to a considerable extent. From the skeleton 
 of this wing, when divested of its covering, it 
 plainly appeared, that the principal bones re- 
 
 # I do not vouch that this was observed amongst the 
 bat9 discovered at Tottenham ; hut Mr. Bingley mentions it 
 &§ a habit of the race.— See British Quadrupeds , p.p. 33, 48. 
 
 semblo 
 
78 
 
 sembie so many very long lingers; the fifth, 
 which is much shorter than the rest, may pro- 
 perly be called the thumb, and being armed 
 at the end with a sharp and hooked claw, en- 
 ables the bat to adhere closely to walls, the clefts 
 of rocks, and such like places, where they re- 
 main in a torpid sfate during the winter, hanging 
 by their claws, with their heads downwards, and 
 their wings wrapped round them, probably for 
 warmth. 
 
 Mr. Palmer, perceiving that we were desirous 
 of knowing more of the habits of these curious 
 animals, which partake so largely of the nature 
 of both birds and beasts, related some experi- 
 ments that had been made with them. A gen- 
 tlemen * kept one of them for the purpose of ex- 
 amining it more particularly. He offered it a 
 common house-fly when it was asleep, and in 
 order to rouse it, touched its nose with the fly. 
 The bat, sensible that its prey was at hand, 
 made a kind of smack with its mouth, then 
 threw itself suddenly forward by its hind feet, 
 and immediately devoured the insect. A large 
 blue flesh-fly was afterwards presented to it, and 
 was received in the same manner as the former 
 one; but this fly was so large, that the bat was 
 obliged to have recourse to contrivance, to get it 
 
 Mr. Binglej, 
 
 into 
 
79 
 
 into its mouth. He raised himself somewhat 
 higher than usual, on his fore legs; bent his 
 head, with great dexterity, under his belly ; and 
 forced the fly into his mouth, by thrusting it, 
 from side to side, against that part of the mem- 
 brane which extended between the two hind 
 legs ; by which artful means he gained his point, 
 and swallowed his prey without further difficulty. 
 
 Spallanzani, a naturalist of great eminence, 
 discovered, that bats, when perfectly blinded, 
 and afterwards set at liberty, had the extraordi- 
 nary faculty of guiding themselves through the 
 most complicated windings of subterraneous pas- 
 sages, without striking against the walls; and 
 that they avoided, with great nicety, cords, 
 branches of trees, and other obstacles, placed, by 
 design, in their way. He was so much at a loss 
 to conjecture how this was effected, that he at- 
 tributed it to some unknown sense, bestowed 
 upon this creature for its security. But Mr. 
 Palmer very ingeniously attributes it to an ex- 
 treme delicacy of feeling in the wing, which 
 presents to the air an enormous surface, in pro- 
 portion to the size of the animal, and is covered 
 with an exquisitely fine net-work of nerves. He 
 therefore supposes, that, in the action of flight, 
 the air, when struck by this wing, so well 
 adapted to its office, impresses a sensation of 
 heat, cold, or resistance, which directs the bat to 
 
 avoid 
 
m 
 
 avoid any object that would obstruct its flight; 
 just as you may have seen a blind person per- 
 ceive a door, or a wall, by the difference of the 
 resistance of the air, without the assistance of 
 touch *. 
 
 It is a remarkable propensity of various kinds 
 of animals, to fall asleep in winter, and to re- 
 main in a state of torpidity till the spring re- 
 turns; insensible to pleasure or pain, and pre- 
 serving their existence without the refreshment of 
 food, partly from not exhausting themselves by 
 action. Mr. Palmer’s reply to my enquiries on 
 this interesting subject, so well deserves your at- 
 tention, that I shall repeat it. — “ The wise provi- 
 sion of the Creator, for the comfort of every race 
 of creatures, is so admirably adapted to their 
 wants, and so convincing a proof of his provi- 
 dence, that I am happy,” said he, “ to seize 
 every opportunity of displaying it to you, my 
 young friends, in its proper point of view. The 
 torpidity of the bat, leads me to say, that the 
 same contrivance prevails, not only amongst 
 many other animals, but is extended also to 
 vegetables. Your own observation must have 
 shown you, that in all those that survive the 
 winter, there is a living principle that resists the 
 strongest frosts : the effect of these only occasion- 
 
 * See Bingle/s British Quadrupeds, p. 35. 
 
 ing 
 
81 
 
 ing disease in them, or, if I may apply the term, 
 patting them asleep. Our native trees lose their 
 leaves in winter, whilst their stems remain unin-i 
 jured. Many of our herbaceous plants lose their 
 stalks, though their roots retain their functions 
 There are plants still more robust, which, after 
 their roots have been frozen in the ground, the 
 frost having penetrated several feet beneath their 
 ramifications, revive, notwithstanding, at the 
 return of spring. May not this stagnation of the 
 operations of the fluids of these plants, be justly 
 compared with the dormant state ofthe torpid 
 animals, to which we will now turn our attention* 
 We see,” continued he, ^the ant fall asleep in a 
 very slight degree of cold; and the common 
 fly does the same, with every appearance of 
 being dead. Nor are these, by numbers, the 
 only insects subject to this lethargic sleep. 
 Quadrupeds have frequently the same propensity. 
 In dormice, marmots, and many other sleepers, 
 life appears to be suspended when cold weather 
 approaches. This suspension of the vital powers, 
 is so complete in some of the species, that their 
 heart ceases to beat for whole months. The 
 snail and the toad undergo the same stupefaction. 
 Several serpents exhibit a phenomenon still more 
 surprising : they can bear to be frozen to so great 
 a degree, as to become brittle, and die if they 
 happen to be broken in this state ; but, if they 
 b 5 ’ b# 
 
82 
 
 be left unmolested in their holes, into which the 
 warmth of spring penetrates very gradually, they 
 revive, and give proof that they were not dead. 
 Is it not a striking mark of creative wisdom, 
 that, in all these tribes, this change takes place 
 in the season when their food begins to fail — 
 when the fruit and herbs on which they feed 
 disappear? After having prepared them, by an 
 increase of fat, occasioned by the temporary 
 abundance of summer, and in this fat supplied 
 them with a narcotic to incline them to sleep, as 
 well as food to support them while it lasts; and 
 that, at the same time, that these little devourers 
 are laid asleep, and, from their concealment in 
 their hiding places, they cease to afford prey to 
 the larger devourers, whom they serve for food, 
 these, in their turn, also lose thought and motion. 
 Those that would be deprived of food, by the 
 snow covering that which they feed upon, sleep 
 till the snow melts, and a little longer. Perhaps, 
 for a similar reason, the white bear, which lives 
 by fishing on the sea-shore during the summer, 
 and on the islands of ice in autumn, does not 
 fall asleep till the ice, united, thickened, and 
 raised too high above the water, is no longer the 
 resort of the seal. As the means of subsistence 
 continues longer, a much severer degree of cold 
 is requisite to deaden, in this animal, the appe- 
 tite for seeking it, than in the black bear, which 
 
 is 
 
83 
 
 is a great devourer of honey and vegetables. 
 Still less cold can the brown bear endure, which 
 lives on animals that winter drives early into 
 their retreats. 
 
 “ This exact correspondence between the in- 
 clination to eat, and a supply of food, cannot be 
 attributed to blind chance or accident, but to 
 the arrangement of an All-wise Intelligence, that 
 has fitted all the parts of the universe to each 
 other; and, in the races of animals now under 
 our notice, has ordered that hunger should cease 
 when famine would take place, as a means of 
 prolonging their existence, and preserving them 
 from starving.” 
 
 Before Mr. Palmer had put an end to this in- 
 teresting visit, he told us of an awful catas- 
 trophe that had recently occurred, in a mine 
 about twenty miles distant. Several men and 
 boys were obliged to take refuge in a cavity of 
 this subterranean habitation, from a sudden ir- 
 ruption of water, that rushed from some recess of 
 the mine that had been shut up, upon the place 
 where they were at work. The poor wretches 
 remained there three days and nights, with 
 scarcely any prospect of being relieved from 
 their dreadful situation : some of them actually 
 perished of hunger, as the only food they had 
 was a piece of bread, in the pocket of one of the 
 men, who, with the heroic generosity of the most 
 
 enlightened 
 
enlightened philanthropist, at the immediate risk 
 t)f life, shared his morsel with his unfortunate 
 companions. What a noble act of virtue in a 
 poor untaught mechanic! This sympathy with 
 his fellow-sufferers flowed from the heart, un- 
 mixed with the expectation of applause, which 
 so often guides the benevolence of the rich, who 
 spare a little of their abundance, in the hope of 
 receiving an hundred fold; but this poor man 
 shared his all , without a prospect of any other 
 reward in this world, than a conscious satisfac- 
 tion, arising from doing to others as he would 
 have had them do to him. The survivors were 
 at length extricated from their dangerous con- 
 finement*. 
 
 We all gladly put our mites into Mr. Pal- 
 mer’s purse, who is making a collection for the 
 widows and children of those who perished; to 
 which he intends to add a reward to this man, 
 for his conduct in this trying moment. 
 
 Our guest did not prolong his visit, because 
 he was in haste to accomplish the task he had 
 imposed upon himself, of obtaining a certain 
 sum, to put these poor people in a situation to 
 gain a livelihood. 
 
 In works of benevolence, Mr. Palmer is inde- 
 fatigable : he suffers no amusement or self-gratifi- 
 
 % * This happened lately in a coal-mine. 
 
 cation 
 
85 
 
 cation, to retard that comfort he has the power 
 to impart; as it is a favourite maxim with him, 
 that a kindness bestowed in the critical moment 
 when it is wanted, is doubly enhanced in value. 
 The example of this good man has greater in- 
 fluence than his sermons. His parishioners love 
 and revere him, and look to him for counsel in 
 difficulty, as to a father. 
 
 Believe me, your sincerely attached 
 
 Caholi ne. 
 
 LETTER 
 
86 
 
 LETTER XL 
 
 FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 
 
 MY DEAR EMILY , 
 
 Mrs. Sayille having heard that the 
 children of a sailor, whose wife lives in a small 
 village on the sea-shore, were very ill of the 
 small-pox, proposed a walk, to see whether they 
 were treated properly, and had those comforts 
 that were necessary in their situation. On enter- 
 ing the cottage, we found the mother in great 
 distress : the disorder had risen to an alarming 
 height, and the dear little sufferers were lying on 
 no other bedding than straw. Mrs. Saville ex- 
 pressed her surprise, as she had seen, on former 
 occasions, both a bed and blankets; and en- 
 quired the motive for parting with such essential 
 articles of furniture, with a degree of displeasure 
 on her countenance, that showed she suspected 
 that a satisfactory answer could not be given to 
 her question. “Alas! Madam,” said the poor 
 woman, “ we were obliged to give them to John, 
 in the midst of the sharpest weather last winter. 
 Did you not hear of his being wrecked, and 
 losing all his bedding and clothes? I bless 
 Providence that his precious life was saved by 
 that faithful creature, Pompey. And surely I 
 
 could 
 
87 
 
 could do no less than give our bed and blankets 
 to my dear husband, who faces the storms of the 
 ocean, to earn a bit of bread for me and my poor 
 babes, whatever we may suffer at home from 
 want of them.” Mrs. Saville’s displeasure was 
 instantly changed to approbation and sympathy, 
 on hearing this simple tale; and after promising 
 to find relief, she desired to know by what means 
 Pompey was capable of saving the life of his 
 master. 66 Dear Madam,” replied the poor wo* 
 man, 66 he did not save my husband’s life only, 
 but the whole crew owe their safety to the sense 
 of that dog*. They were deeply laden with 
 corn, and had got only a few leagues out to sea, 
 being in full sail, with a fair wind, when (his 
 creature suddenly left the vessel, and jumped 
 into the boat. The crew did not perceive that 
 any thing was the matter; but, astonished at 
 this unaccountable action of the dog, suspected 
 that there must b£ something wrong. The cap- 
 tain ordered the hatches to be opened, when 
 they discovered that they had started a plank, 
 and that the hold was filling with water. The 
 water gained upon them so fast, that they had 
 no time to save any thing. They all betook 
 themselves to the boat, and my poor man re- 
 turned home, with nothing but what he carried 
 
 * This happened to a corn vessel in the Ipswich river. 
 
 on 
 
88 
 
 on liis back. Our loss was very great; but he 
 was alive, and that made all my troubles appear 
 light He soon after set out on another voyage, 
 and l packed up our only bed, and the blankets 
 belonging to it, and sent them on board for him. 
 Since that, I and my little ones have lain, as 
 you see, upon straw. We have been blessed 
 with health till now; and during the summer we 
 have done pretty well. Before winter comes, I 
 trust that Providence will enable me to lay up 
 money e»ough to buy a covering to keep us 
 warm.’ , Mrs. Saville encouraged that hope, 
 by promising to add lo her store, when she had 
 saved a certain sum, what should be sufficient 
 to complete the purchase. In the present emer- 
 gency she supplied her with linen, which she 
 keeps to lend to the sick. 
 
 On our return home, the conversation turned 
 upon the sagacity of dogs. The multitude of 
 surprising stories, that are well authenticated, of 
 these intelligent animals, would fill volumes, par- 
 ticularly of their attachment to their masters. 
 Rachel has a pretty little spaniel; that, had he 
 the faculty of speech, would have a better title 
 to the appellation cf a rational being, than some 
 that walk on two legs. He is accustomed to lie 
 and indulge himself on the lawn behind the 
 house; but the other morning, as he was going to 
 *ccline on his favourite spot, he perceived that a 
 
 heavy 
 
89 
 
 heavy dew had made (lie grass very wet, and 
 having no inclination for so damp a couch, 
 after a moment’s reflection lie trudged into the 
 hall, and taking the mat in his mouth, carried 
 it to the grass, and then quietly composed him- 
 self upon it*. 
 
 Mrs. SaviUe knew a dog that belonged to a 
 shopkeeper, who was in the habit of running 
 into the slreef, and returning into the house 
 whenever he pleased. On Sundays the house 
 door was shut, and he was obliged to have re- 
 course to a contrivance to gain admittance, 
 which, no doubt, is the effect of imitation. He 
 raised himself on his hind legs, and lifted up 
 the knocker with his mouth, repeating the stroke 
 till the door was opened f . 
 
 An old spaniel, that belonged to a brother of 
 Mr. Palmer’s, was highly valued for his dex- 
 terity in springing woodcocks; and he seemed 
 to take as much pleasure in the sport as bis 
 master. At about tw elve miles’ distance lived a 
 farmer, with whom Mr. H. Palmer used fre- 
 quently to go on wood-shooting expeditions. 
 If business or disinclination prevented him, for 
 some days, from taking out his dog, this saga- 
 cious animal would take the advantage of the first 
 
 * This was done by a dog belonging to a particular friend 
 of the author’s. 
 
 i On the autbori ty of Mr. Edgeworth. 
 
 moonlight 
 
90 
 
 moonlight night to trudge to the farmer’s, and 
 lying down at the door, waited the approach 
 of morning. The farmer being glad to avail 
 himself of the abilities of such an excellent dog, 
 generally indulged him with his favourite sport; 
 when, the object of his journey being accom- 
 plished, he returned home the following night. 
 And this he repeated so often, that the farmer 
 used to defer his wood-shooting excursions till 
 Gyp paid his visit, being certain that it would 
 not be long before his guest would arrive. 
 
 Such instances of sagacity clearly prove, to 
 my mind, that some animals are endued with a 
 capacity that enables them to observe, and to 
 act from reflection : whether it is called reason or 
 instinct is immaterial; the facts are the same, 
 and are incontrovertible. It is evident that 
 there are gradations of the intellectual powers; 
 and, consequently, that sortfe species of creatures 
 are far more intelligent than others. Dogs seem 
 highly favoured in this respect, and to possess 
 more sense than most of their fellow-brutes ; but, 
 as they live on such a very familiar footing with 
 man, I think it probable that they owe part of 
 their superiority to that circumstance. In the 
 qualities of the heart they must be allowed to 
 excel; for what creature is so docile, so faithful, 
 so affectionate, or so generous as the dog? He 
 does not show his attachment merely by follow- 
 ing 
 
91 
 
 ing his master and protecting his property, but 
 will sacrifice his own life to defend him when 
 attacked. His powers of discrimination are 
 very great ; for the same dog that is gentle, 
 tractable, and playful with the family to which 
 he belongs, becomes, on the approach of a 
 stranger, particularly if he is shabbily dressed, 
 bold, courageous, and implacable. No bribe 
 can seduce him from the duty he owes to his 
 benefactor. Our favourite poet, Gay, extols his 
 fidelity, in the character of the shepherd, who, 
 with great simplicity, acknowledges that he has 
 learned many moral virtues from those creatures 
 that are called irrational. He says : 
 
 “ My dog, the trustiest of his kind. 
 
 With gratitude inflames my mind: 
 
 I mark his true, his faithful way, 
 
 And in my service copy Tray.” 
 
 To what innumerable purposes are the capa- 
 cities of this useful race applied. Their in- 
 stincts enable them to hunt and catch our game, 
 even in the water. They guard our flocks and 
 herds with amazing dexterity. In our rambles, 
 we have frequent opportunities of observing the 
 qualities of the shepherd’s dog. Vast flocks of 
 sheep are fed upon the mountains in this coun- 
 try, and the shepherd receives more assistance 
 from one of these dogs, than half a dozen boys 
 
 could 
 
§2 
 
 could give him. It is really curious to see with 
 wliat expedition lie obeys bis master’s commands : 
 he watches his eye, and is gone to execute his 
 commission at a word, whether it is to drive the 
 flock, with regularity, to their pasture, or to con- 
 duct them home at night; and, though other 
 flocks are browsing on the same pastures, he 
 prevents any stranger from intermixing with 
 those under his care. I have seen a shepherd 
 point out to his dog a straggling sheep, on a 
 height more than a mile distant. At the well- 
 known signal, the dog went off at full speed, 
 and soon returned with the runaway to the flock. 
 They acquire this command over the sheep, 
 merely by their voice; for they are trained too 
 well tp their business, to injure their fleecy charge 
 with their teeth. 
 
 Dogs that attend drovers have the same quali- 
 ties. They distinguish accurately the cattle or 
 sheep tha*t belong to the several drovers that 
 follow one another ; and will neither suffer one 
 of another flock to enter theirs, nor one of those 
 they guard, to escape. 
 
 I need not point out their use in protecting 
 our houses and property from thieves; but one 
 of their valuable properties I must mention, be- 
 fore I conclude their eulogium. I mean that of 
 conducting the blind. How many unfortunate 
 Sketches., deprived of sight, friendless and poor, 
 
 are 
 
S3 
 
 are led from door to door, to solicit a small pit* 
 tance from the hand of charity, by a faithful 
 dog, *who conducts them with as much care, 
 and probably more certainty, than one of their 
 own species* 
 
 I shall finish this long letter by an instance of 
 sagacity and contrivance, in a terrier belonging 
 to Mr. Palmer, that is really surprising. This 
 dog is extremely attached to the horse that 
 draws his master’s chaise, and the moment he 
 sees the servant take out the harness, he barks 
 and jumps about for joy. He had been long 
 permitted to accompany the horse whenever they 
 went abroad; blit, having become disagreeably 
 clamorous and troublesome at setting off, Mr* 
 Palmer had given orders that Trim should be 
 beaten and prevented from attending therm 
 The dog was much hurt at this treatment ; and, 
 after two or three beatings, disappeared at the 
 moment of setting out, though he had been seen 
 in the yard just before* They are in the very 
 frequent habit of calling at Mrs. Saville’s, before 
 they proceed to any distance. Trim, determine 
 ed to avoid the discipline, and yet to enjoy the 
 excursion, came to our cottage, in full expecta- 
 tion that his master would presently follow ; but, 
 as he was disappointed, he staid quietly till the 
 next day, and then returned home. A few days 
 aften Mr* Palmer set out for another ride. Trim 
 
 took 
 
m 
 
 took a different means to compass his purpose? 
 he left the yard, as before, sooner than the 
 chaise; but, instead of proceeding to Mrs. 
 Saville’s house, he lay at the corner of a lane, 
 which he knew his master must pass, to get into 
 the high road. The fidelity of Trim, and the 
 ingenuity of his contrivance, have rendered him 
 a great favourite; and, notwithstanding his 
 noisy joy, he is permitted to attend the chaise, 
 which he never fails to do with marks of the 
 highest satisfaction. 
 
 Can you forgive me for troubling you with 
 such trifles?— but the uniform tranquillity of our 
 lives does not afford sufficient variety to supply 
 me with anecdotes of a more amusing kind. 
 You must accept my endeavours to please, how- 
 ever deficient I am, and believe me, 
 
 With sincere attachment, 
 
 Ever yours, 
 
 Caroline 
 
 LETTER 
 
LETTER XII. 
 
 FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 
 
 MY DEAR CAROLINE , 
 
 Can you really think that I find no 
 entertainment from the incidents of your rural 
 life? Do you suppose, then, that I am so per- 
 verted, that nothing can give me pleasure but 
 striking tales of the vices or the follies of the 
 great? You are very much mistaken. I am 
 tired of the trifling conversation that I so often 
 hear in crowded assemblies; and am still more 
 offended when scandal is called in to supply the 
 want of more reasonable topics. Sorry am I to 
 say, that so far from deriving any advantage 
 from the near neighbourhood of the Misses 
 Ormond, I find them very disagreeable com- 
 panions. They can talk of nothing but new 
 fashions, public diversions, the rumour of the 
 day, the faults of their aquaintance, or some 
 addition to their establishment, which they have 
 obtained from their father by dint of teasing, in 
 order, as they say, to support his dignity; but, 
 I fear, rather for the indulgence of their own 
 pride, which knows no bounds. Their sudden 
 elevation is looked upon by the world as a most 
 fortunate event ; but if the favours of fortune are 
 
 to 
 
m 
 
 to be weighed by the happiness they confer, 
 this alteration in their rank and circumstances 
 must be esteemed rather a misfortune, than 
 otherwise. It has given them such consequen- 
 tial ideas of themselves, that they are ever dis- 
 satisfied with the respect that is paid to them; 
 and, instead of feeling contented with their pre- 
 sent possessions, they arc continually grasping 
 after more, in the hope of forming an alliance 
 with some nobleman of the most illustrious 
 family. As their manners are vulgar, and their 
 minds uncultivated, it is probable that they will 
 be sacrificed to some man whose dissipation lias 
 rendered their wealth a desirable object; as I 
 much suspect they will measure the merit of him 
 who claims their favour, by the noble blood that 
 flows in his veins, rather than by his good sense 
 or his virtue. I fear you will think i am run- 
 ning into the very faults I have been condemn- 
 ing; but, my Caroline, to you I unfold my 
 heart, and think I may safely describe the cha- 
 racters of those with whom I am obliged to 
 associate, without the imputation of scandal. I 
 will, however, change my subject for one more 
 congenial to your taste. 
 
 The s f ory of your goats proves, beyond doubt, 
 that some animals are capable of reflection ; and 
 its probability is confirmed by a similar instance 
 of contrivance in two of the same species, in a 
 
 different 
 
97 
 
 different part of the world. At Ardinglass, in 
 Red Bay, near Glenarm, in Ireland, two goats 
 happened to be moving towards each other, over 
 a dreadful precipice, on a path so narrow that it 
 was impossible for them to pass each other, and 
 still less practicable for either to turn round : the 
 least attempt to effect the one or the other of 
 these movements would have precipitated them 
 from the rock, which is there four hundred feet 
 perpendicular. In this dilemma, they looked 
 at each other with great seriousness, for a length 
 of time, as if they were deliberating how to ex- 
 tricate themselves from the difficulty ; which, at 
 length, they contrived to do, by one of them 
 lying down prostrate, whilst the other walked 
 over his body, each afterwards pursuing his 
 own course with perfect composure*. 
 
 The faithful attachment of dogs to their mas- 
 ters, has been too often recorded to require con- 
 firmation from any new example; yet I cannot 
 deny myself the pleasure of relating an affecting 
 instance of canine friendship, that happened in 
 France, during the anarchy of the reign of 
 terror. 
 
 A few days before the overthrow of Robes- 
 pierre, a revolutionary tribunal had condemned 
 
 * Mr. George Black, brother to the celebrated chemist of 
 Edinburgh, was an eye-witness of this fact. 
 
 F 
 
 Mons. 
 
98 
 
 Mons. R , an ancient magistrate, and a 
 
 most estimable man, on the pretence that he had 
 
 been guilty of conspiracy. Mons. R had 
 
 a spaniel, at that time about twelve years old, 
 which had been brought up by him, and had 
 scarcely ever quitted his side. He was thrown 
 into prison. His faithful dog was with him 
 when he was seized, but was not suffered to ac- 
 company him into confinement. The dog took 
 refuge with a neighbour of his master, and every 
 day, at the same hour, returned to the door of 
 the prison. Such unwearied fidelity, at length 
 excited the compassion even of the porter, and 
 the dog was allowed to enter. The joy of the 
 master and his dog was mutual. It was found 
 difficult again to separate them ; and the jailer, 
 fearful (if the dog should be discovered there) 
 that his governors might consider him as favour- 
 ing a prisoner, was compelled to carry him out. 
 The animal returned regularly every evening, 
 and was as regularly admitted. On the day 
 appointed for receiving sentence, the dog, in 
 spite of the guards, penetrated into the hall, and 
 crouched between his master’s legs. At the 
 execution he was also present, and was, with 
 difficulty, forced from the body. For two 
 nights and a day he remained on the grave. 
 The friend of his master, who had before afford- 
 ed him an asylum, unhappy at not seeing the 
 
 (log 
 
99 
 
 dog as usual, and guessing to what place he had 
 retired, stole forth by night, and finding him at 
 the grave, caressed and brought him back. He 
 tried every means that kindness could devise, to 
 induce him to eat; but, in a short time, the dog 
 escaped, and regained his favourite place, for 
 three months he came every morning to his pro- 
 tector, merely to receive his food, and imme- 
 diately returned to the grave. At the end of 
 this time nature gave way: he languished, 
 refused to take any nourishment, and died. 
 What friendship could have been more pure, 
 more constant, or more fervent? The hour of 
 adversity did not dismay him; and though he 
 could not fully comprehend the injuries offered 
 to his master, he was jealous that some harm 
 was intended, and guarded him, as far as was 
 possible, with the greatest vigilance. How deep, 
 how lasting were his regrets ! His attachment 
 deserved a monument, that should have perpe- 
 tuated the memory of his master, with the fidelity 
 of the dog, bearing this inscription : 
 
 “ l loved thee even unto death.’'* 
 
 ft seems very extraordinary that such an 
 affection should subsist between creatures so dif- 
 ferent in their natures, their powers, and their 
 inclinations; between whom, one should sup- 
 pose, there could be no sympathy, or commu- 
 f 2 nication 
 
10 0 
 
 nication of ideas, did we not daily see instances 
 of this strong, marked attachment of the canine 
 race to their masters; and, in different degrees, 
 to every member of his family. May we not 
 attribute this valuable property of the dog, to the 
 goodness of the Great Creator, who has so amply 
 provided for the wants of man in every situation? 
 How many have been saved from drowning, 
 from thieves, and from other dangers, by the 
 sagacity of their dogs? Some time ago I read a 
 paragraph in the newspaper, of the preservation 
 of a man by the means of his dog ; and although 
 the names of the persons have escaped my me- 
 mory, yet the circumstances were related in such 
 an authentic manner, 1 shall venture to repeat 
 them. 
 
 A gentleman’s servant in the neighbourhood 
 of Windsor, went out with two horses and a 
 dog, for the sake of exercise. After some hours, 
 the horses came home without either the man 
 or the clog. This caused great alarm to the 
 family : other servants were dispatched different 
 ways in quest of the poor fellow, who was sup- 
 posed to have met with some unfortunate acci- 
 dent. After a very tedious search, the dog was 
 seen standing in the midst of a turnip-field, with 
 evident marks of distress and uneasiness. On 
 seeing the servants approach, he advanced, and, 
 by every possible sign, indicated his anxiety for 
 
 them 
 
101 
 
 them to follow. He led them, in this manner, 
 into a lane, where, as they saw nothing, they 
 attempted to return; but the dog’s importunity 
 was so great, they determined to follow where- 
 ever he should lead. He conducted them to 
 the side of a ditch, in which they found the 
 groom in a state of insensibility, having re- 
 ceived a fracture of the skull, by a fall from the 
 horse. A proper vehicle was procured, and the 
 unfortunate man was conveyed to his master’s 
 house, and placed in a comfortable bed. A sur- 
 geon was sent for, and the wound was dressed. 
 During this operation, it was impossible to keep 
 the dog out of the chamber. As soon as all was 
 quiet, this faithful creature placed himself upon 
 the bed ; and though the poor sufferer, in the 
 violence of his delirium, often struck the dog, the 
 animal seemed to understand that he was not in 
 his right senses; for neither blows, nor the re- 
 pulsive voice of his agonized master, could drive 
 him from the post he had chosen. The man 
 recovered, and, no doubt, ever after valued this 
 affectionate creature, to whose attachment he 
 owed his life. 
 
 Of all the different kinds of dogs, the New- 
 foundland seems to possess the most sense, and 
 the strongest attachment. An extraordinary 
 instance of both, Bewick, in his History of 
 Quadrupeds, relates in the following words : 
 
 “ During 
 
102 
 
 “ During a severe storm, in the winter of the year 
 1789, a ship belonging to Newcastle, was lost 
 near Yarmouth, and a Newfoundland dog alone 
 escaped to shore, bringing in his mouth the 
 captain’s pocket-book. He landed amidst a 
 number of people, several of whom, in vain, en- 
 deavoured to take it from him. The sagacious 
 animal, as if sensible of the importance of the 
 charge, which, in all probability, was delivered 
 to him by his perishing master, at length leaped 
 fawningly against the breast of a man, who had 
 attracted his notice among the crowd, and de- 
 livered the book to him. The dog immediately 
 returned to the place where he had landed, and 
 watched, with great attention, for every thing 
 that came from the wrecked vessel, seizing 
 hold of them, and endeavouring to bring them 
 to land.” 
 
 I dare say you know that the habits of this 
 breed of dogs lead them to swim and dive; and, 
 it is most likely, that, in a state of nature, their 
 food is fish ; for they are known to devour 
 raw trout, and other small fish. Providence 
 has accordingly furnished them with web-feet, 
 which serve them for paddles, and are not be- 
 stowed on any kind of dog, but those that fre- 
 quent the water. How exactly the habits and 
 form of all creatures correspond with one ano- 
 ther! Had not you led my attention to the 
 
 Book 
 
103 
 
 Book of Nature, I should have overlooked this, 
 and many other beautiful proofs of design, in 
 the creation of the inhabitants of the world. 
 
 Farewell, my Caroline: continue to instruct, 
 with your amusing correspondence, 
 
 Your affectionate 
 
 Emily, 
 
 LETTER 
 
104 
 
 LETTER XIII. 
 
 FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 
 
 DEAR EMILY , 
 
 u Blest be the gracious power who taught mankind 
 To stamp a lasting image of the mind ! 
 
 Beasts may convey, and tuneful birds may sing 
 Their mutual feelings in the opening spring; 
 
 But man alone has skill and power to send 
 The heart’s warm dictates to the distant friend ; 
 
 ’Tis his alone to please, instruct, advise, 
 
 Ages remote, and nations yet to rise.” 
 
 In these sentiments of gratitude for the inven- 
 tion of letters, I cordially unite with Mr. Crabbe, 
 the author of the lines I have borrowed for the 
 expression of my own feelings upon the subject. 
 What, indeed, would have been my distress, on 
 my first retirement into Wales, if all intercourse 
 with you, my dear Emily, had been impossible; 
 but, by means of this delightful invention, when- 
 ever a post can reach, an exchange of sentiments 
 may be enjoyed : — our joys, our sorrows, may be 
 communicated to the friend of our hearts, though 
 separated by hundreds of miles. Through this 
 medium, you are become acquainted with my 
 revered Mrs. Saville, and my beloved Rachel. 
 You know their characters, you admire their 
 
 excellencies, 
 
105 
 
 excellencies, and love them for their kindness to 
 me, a stranger, under circumstances that too 
 often deprive us of the regard of old acquaint- 
 ance, who are more attached to our fortunes and 
 rank in society, than to ourselves. The friend- 
 ship of my good aunt and cousin, is generally 
 founded on esteem : towards me, at first, it was 
 compassion, and that ardent desire of doing 
 good, that is the principal spring of Mrs. 
 Saville’s actions. By this time, I am vain 
 enough to believe, that I have gained a higher 
 place in their regard, by my sincere endeavours 
 to conform to their inclinations, and, at a humble 
 distance, to imitate their virtues. Cheerfulness is 
 cultivated here, as a duty: every? tiling that is 
 morose, austere, and gloomy, is banished from 
 this happy cottage. One of Mrs. Saville’s first 
 maxims is, to be contented with that lot which 
 Divine Wisdom has chosen for us, and to silence 
 all murmurings and regrets, for the privation of 
 those things that others possess, by remembering 
 how much we enjoy that multitudes have not. 
 Gratitude, she thinks, is the most acceptable 
 part of devotion, and she is almost angry, if she 
 hears any one complain of small inconveniences. 
 She often tells us, that the secret of being happy, 
 is, to be satisfied with the present, and to leave 
 the disposal of the future, with full confidence, 
 to the Supreme Ruler of the universe; for over 
 f 5 anxiety 
 
106 
 
 anxiety destroys the health, and incapacitates ns 
 for duties that require our immediate attention. 
 Every day opens to her a new scene of activity 
 and usefulness; of course, she is never teased 
 with that languor of mind, well known amongst 
 fashionable loungers, by the name of ennui . 
 Her time is divided between acts of benevolence, 
 the cultivation of her mind, and social pleasures. 
 She has found a few select friends, even in this 
 retired situation, that vary and enliven our en- 
 joyments ; amongst these, the Palmers are our 
 greatest intimates. We seldom pass a week, 
 without spending an evening together; not in the 
 formal style of visiting, but in that familiar way 
 that gives full scope to conversation. At our 
 last meeting, part of your letter was read aloud, 
 and I am desired to return our general thanks 
 for the amusement it afforded us. Every one of 
 
 us was affected by the story of Mons. R , to 
 
 whom the friendship of a dog must have been a 
 consolation, when all the world had abandoned 
 him. “ He must have been a very faithful 
 creature indeed,” said Laura Palmer, a most 
 engaging little girl of ten years old, “ and I 
 should have grieved when he died. Papa, if 
 you will give me leave, I will repeat a sweet 
 story of a dog, that I read this morning, in the 
 book you lent me.” Mr. Palmer nodded appro- 
 bation, and Laura, with great diffidence, gave 
 
 us 
 
107 
 
 us the following account. u In digging up the 
 ruins of Pornpeia and Herculaneum, which were 
 overwhelmed by the lava thrown up in an erup- 
 tion of Mount Vesuvius, the skeleton of a dog was 
 found, stretched over that of a child ten or twelve 
 years of age. It was conjectured, by those who 
 superintended the workmen, that this dog, from 
 his position, was attempting to save his young 
 master, at the moment of the dreadful catastro- 
 phe that destroyed the city. This opinion was 
 confirmed, by the discovery of a collar of curi- 
 ous workmanship, that is preserved in the gallery 
 of the grand duke of Tuscany, upon which was 
 inscribed a history of this dog, in Greek. From 
 the inscription, it appears that this dog, whose 
 name was Delta, belonged to a man called Seve- 
 rinus, whose life he had saved on three different 
 occasions : first, by dragging him out of the sea, 
 when nearly drowned ; again, by driving off 
 four robbers, who attacked him unawares; and, 
 the third time, by destroying a she-wolf, which 
 w r as near tearing Severinus in pieces, on account 
 of h is having taken her cubs from her, in a grove 
 sacred to Diana, near Herculaneum. After these 
 exploits. Delta attached himself particularly to 
 the only son of Severinus, follow ed him where- 
 ever he went, and would take no food but what 
 he received from the hand of this child. The 
 circumstances and the inscription, place the 
 
 existence 
 
108 
 
 existence of the dog out of all doubt; amounting 
 to a proof, that the faithful animal would not 
 forsake his young master ; and, when he found 
 it impossible to save him, like a servant of un- 
 shaken fidelity, shared his fate.” 
 
 u After all these fine stories of the generous 
 nature of dogs,” said Mrs. Palmer, u the infe- 
 riority of the cat must be allowed, as her general 
 character is artful, revengeful, cruel, rapacious, 
 and ungrateful. Nature has endowed her with 
 the qualities of a beast of prey, being formed 
 to live upon animals weaker and more defence- 
 less than herself. Yet, when domesticated, 
 there have been some instances of sagacity and 
 attachment, in this creature, that may serve to 
 diminish the stigma that is cast upon the species. 
 Our countryman, Mr. Pennant, tells us, that a 
 very remarkable accident befel Henry Wriothesly, 
 Earl of Southampton, the friend and companion 
 of the Earl of Essex, in his fatal insurrection. 
 After he had been confined in the Tower a short 
 time, he was agreeably surprised by a visit from 
 his favourite cat, which, according to tradition, 
 having found her way thither, descended the 
 chimney of his apartment, and seated herself by 
 her master. He adds, that a picture, in the pos- 
 session of the Duchess of Portland at Balstrode, 
 of this nobleman, in a black dress and cloak, 
 with the faithful animal at his side, may be sup- 
 posed 
 
109 
 
 posed either to confirm the fact, or to have given 
 rise to such an extraordinary story. 
 
 66 A circumstance happened in my own neigh- 
 bourhood, a few years ago,” continued Mrs. 
 Palmer, u the truth of which I cannot doubt, 
 as it was related to me by a person who was a 
 spectator of the occurrence*. The mistress of 
 the house was sitting by the fire, when the cat 
 came to her, and looking up in her face, mewed 
 most piteously. At first, being engaged, she 
 paid no attention to it; but the cat was not to 
 be discouraged by this neglect: she continued 
 her cries, going towards the door, and returning 
 to the lady, in the greatest agitation. These ac- 
 tions were so often repeated, and in such an im- 
 pressive manner, that she felt curious to know the 
 cause of such uneasiness; though she was reluc- 
 tant to leave her seat, till the cat, extending her 
 claws, pulled her by the apron. She could no 
 longer resist the importunity of the distressed 
 animal: she rose, and followed her conductor 
 into a small wash-house, where some tubs, partly 
 filled with water, were standing, into one of 
 which a child, nearly two years old, had fallen, 
 and was in danger of drowning. This intel- 
 ligent cat saved the child’s life, and in this in- 
 stance showed a degree of attachment superior 
 
 * On the authority of Mrs. Oobbold of Ipswich 
 
 to 
 
no 
 
 to that commonly observed in her kind. Yet, 
 on the removal of the family, some time after- 
 wards, she could not be retained in their new 
 habitation, but, in spite of every precaution, 
 returned to their former abode.” 
 
 (C The attachment of cats to houses, rather 
 than persons,” replied Mrs. Saville, u is suppos- 
 ed to arise from their perfect knowledge of the 
 outlets and passages of the place where they 
 have lived, as well as the holes in which the rats 
 and mice have fixed their retreats. Now it is 
 possible, that the aversion they show to a change 
 of situation, may originate from a fear of want 
 of food, from not knowing where to seek for 
 their prey.” 
 
 Thus our meetings pass in the most agreeable 
 and profitable manner, instruction being mixed 
 with our conversation ; and it seldom happens 
 that we part without hearing some curious anec- 
 dotes, either relative to history, the characters of 
 great men, the wonders of nature, or some other 
 interesting subject. And when any thing is 
 more extraordinary than usual, I insert it in a 
 common-place book that I keep for the purpose. 
 Looking over this book in the morning, I was 
 struck with the following article, wh ich I thought 
 worth your perusal. Mr. Parkinson, in his 
 Organic Remains, makes a calculation of the 
 number of pieces he found in a species of ani- 
 mal 
 
Ill 
 
 mal fossil, of the family of encrinites , that is 
 truly astonishing. “ A careful examination,” 
 says he, <{ ascertains the curious fact, that, in- 
 dependently of the number of pieces which may 
 be contained in the vertebral column, and which, 
 from its probable great length, may be very 
 numerous, the fossil skeleton of the superior 
 part of this animal, consists of at least twenty- 
 six thousand pieces . 55 They are disposed in the 
 following manner: 
 
 Of the bones forming the body there 
 
 are five central 5 
 
 Five ribs . 5 
 
 Five clavicles . 5 
 
 Five scapulae 5 
 
 Arms. — S ix bones in each of the ten 
 
 arms 60 
 
 Hands. — Each hand being formed 
 of two fingers, and each finger 
 
 consisting of at least forty small 
 bones, these, in twenty fingers, 
 
 make 800 
 
 Tentacula: thirty proceeding from 
 each of the six bones, in each of 
 
 the ten arms, make 1800 
 
 Thirty proceeding, on the average, 
 from each of the eight hundred 
 bones of the fingers, make .... 24000 
 
 Total 26,(580 
 
 What 
 
112 
 
 What wonderful art and mechanism does this 
 creature display ! And though so complex in its 
 construction, yet, when alive, every limb, every 
 joint, and every bone, performed its part without 
 disorder, or in any way interfering with each 
 other: affording complete enjoyment to the 
 
 creature, and enabling it to move in every direc- 
 tion which the functions of its nature required. 
 
 The globe we inhabit abounds with objects 
 both curious and surprising, yet multitudes of 
 people, and those of the better sort, live fifty or 
 sixty years upon it, without making the faintest 
 attempt to become acquainted with them. Does 
 this proceed from a want of taste, or a neglect 
 in forming the mind early to observation ? I 
 rather think the latter, for surely none can see 
 the beauties of creation, and not admire them. 
 Children brought up in crowded cities, are to be 
 pitied in this respect : they see scarcely any thing 
 but the works of art, and they associate the 
 ideas of beauty and value, to the productions 
 of the mechanic only. An insect is often an ob- 
 ject of abhorrence to them, when, if they would 
 examine it in its true point of view, it would 
 teach this important lesson : That the most insig- 
 nificant of the Creator’s works, are full of wisdom 
 and goodness. 
 
 I am sorry to find you derive so little pleasure 
 from the society of the Misses Ormond, and 
 
 sincerely 
 
113 
 
 sincerely regret that they are insensible to the 
 proper use they should make of their newly-ac- 
 quired fortune. It might have been happier for 
 them to have remained in a moderate station, 
 though it must be acknowledged, that there may 
 be as much pride in a cottage, as in a palace. I 
 fear these poor girls had always the same dispo- 
 sition, and that their unexpected change of for- 
 tune has done nothing more than elicit the latent 
 spark. Grandeur they may enjoy, but happi- 
 ness and pride have no alliance: it is impossible 
 they should reside in the same breast. The 
 proud man must meet with mortifications; he 
 must see some rise above him in wealth, fortune, 
 or dignity, and be wretched. 
 
 Mrs. Saville is preparing for a walk; Rachel 
 is at my elbow, with my bonnet in her hand; so 
 adieu, adieu, says your affectionate 
 
 Caroline. 
 
 LETTER 
 
H4 
 
 LETTER XIV. 
 
 FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 
 
 DEAR CAROLINE , 
 
 So far from pitying you for your banish- 
 ment from London, and from all the luxuries of 
 genteel life, I am inclined to envy the delights 
 you enjoy in your snug cottage; where you 
 seem to possess all the solid comforts you can 
 desire, with many intellectual pleasures, that are 
 seldom to be found amongst those who are con- 
 tinually on the search for something new to 
 banish reflection and kill time. The society 
 of Mrs. Sayillc and the amiable Rachel, alone 
 is a compensation for that of half your town 
 acquaintance, whose highest subject of investiga- 
 tion is the most becoming dishabille, or the 
 most dazzling full dress. The Misses Ormond 
 weary me with this topic: every time they have 
 a fresh supply from their milliner or dress-maker, 
 their coach is ordered, for the friendly purpose 
 of exhibiting the latest fashions to my admiring 
 eyes. But your example has checked ray 
 ardour for being the first in the mode, or giving 
 into every folly that is authorized by the multi- 
 tude. My applause, therefore, diminishes in 
 value, and they already laugh at me, as being 
 
 quite 
 
115 
 
 quite Gothic, because I will not appear half 
 naked, and determine to have the petticoat of 
 my gowns made wide enough to allow me to 
 sit down without exposing my legs. Our cor- 
 respondence is also a subject of ridicule for 
 them : they say we write about nothing but cats, 
 and dogs, and magpies, and that our letters could 
 only amuse a man who shows wild beasts at a 
 fair. They have no eyes for the beauties of 
 nature, or ihe wonders displayed in the disposi- 
 tions of the various tribes of animals. The only 
 individual they notice, of the inferior orders of 
 creation, is a delicate French lap-dog, which they 
 carry in their arms, and on which they bestow 
 as much tenderness and attention as would bring 
 up a child. This dog is washed and combed 
 regularly, and fed upon the most delicate food, 
 whilst the petition of an officer’s widow, with 
 four children in a starving condition, was re- 
 fused, because they had nothing to spare; when, 
 only a few days before, they had purchased this 
 useless creature for five guineas. But they are 
 so wholly occupied with themselves, with their 
 rank and consequence, and the gratification of 
 their vanity, that they have no place in their 
 hearts for the pleasures of sympathy with the 
 unfortunate, or the exquisite gratification of re- 
 lieving their distress. They have a great desire 
 to be accomplished, especially in music, because 
 
 it 
 
it is fashionable ; but, except for that, they have 
 neither taste nor application. And as for the 
 cultivation of their understandings by a course 
 of reading, it is forbidden by want of leisure and 
 inclination. Their reading seldom extends be- 
 yond a popular novel. They openly avow that 
 they do not think it necessary, in order to make 
 a figure in company, and therefore it is a useless 
 labour; “ for,” says Charlotte, “if a young 
 lady can dress, dance, and play, there is no op- 
 portunity of enquiring whether she knows a great 
 deal. Besides, the men do not choose learned 
 wives, lest they should have more knowledge 
 than themselves.” An elderly lady, who was 
 sitting by when she made this remark, said, that 
 men of sense were not afraid of women whose 
 minds were enriched with the productions of the 
 best authors ; but they very properly avoided the 
 pedantic display of smatterers in learning, who 
 assumed, upon very partial acquirements, a 
 superiority to which they had no pretensions. 
 That she who outstepped the limits of that 
 modesty, which is the chief ornament of the sex, 
 whether in exhibiting her knowledge, or in the 
 fredom of her manners, rendered herself equally 
 an object of disgust and ridicule. That it was 
 not ignorance, but humility, that was valued in 
 young women; and that, whilst they kept their 
 proper places, there was no danger of a well- 
 
 furnished 
 
117 
 
 furnished mind exciting the jealousy of our male 
 relatives. 
 
 I was sorry her observations were interrupted 
 by the arrival of a cousin of Lord Ormond’s, 
 who is lately returned from the East Indies. 
 He brought with him many curiosities, as pre- 
 sents for the young ladies. After the shawls, 
 chints, and taffeties, had been opened and suf- 
 ficiently admired, several birds and a monkey 
 were introduced. The latter, his lordship did 
 not choose to accept; because, he said, he still 
 bore the scar of a bite, given him fifty years 
 ago, by one of the tribe, in a fit of revenge. 
 “ The animal,” continued he, u was of that 
 species called montego : he was kept by a farmer, 
 at a few mile’s distance from the village where I 
 went to school. It was a holiday, and a party 
 of us directed our walk to the farm, in order to 
 amuse ourselves with the tricks and grimaces of 
 this monkey, which, being the only one in that 
 part of the country, was regarded as a great 
 rarity, and often visited by the boys of our 
 school. It was fortunate for me that he was 
 confined, by a strong chain, to the shed which 
 was built for his habitation, or he might have 
 attacked my throat, and done me a more serious 
 injury. All my companions had furnished their 
 pockets with nuts, apples, and gingerbread, 
 which they had provided for his refreshment, a 
 
 precaution 
 
118 
 
 precaution that I alone had forgotten. Ueing 
 very unwilling to approach Jacquot with an 
 empty hand, I offered him a cockle-shell that I 
 had picked up on the sea-shore: he seized it 
 greedily, and presently opening it with great 
 adroitness, was much incensed to find nothing 
 in the inside of it, perhaps supposing that I had 
 imposed upon him. He instantly expressed his 
 resentment by throwing it away with great in- 
 dignation, and, by his whole behaviour, show- 
 ing his contempt for the trick he thought I had 
 put upon him. My companions continued 
 playing with him for more than half an hour, 
 whilst I and another amused ourselves about the 
 farm-yard. At last we were summoned to pre- 
 pare for our return, when each of us took leave 
 of the monkey by shaking his fore paw; a 
 civility he received very cordially till it came to 
 my turn, when, recollecting the offence I had 
 given him, he flew at me with the utmost rage, 
 and left this mark in my hand, which I shall 
 carry to my grave. Therefore, no monkeys, if 
 you please, young ladies,” said the old gentle- 
 man, in an angry tone. 
 
 The girls looked vexed, but did not dare to 
 reply; for though they have a great ascendency 
 over him by wheedling and coaxing, like other 
 weak men, he is violent when opposed. 
 
 The conversation took a general turn, and I 
 
 was 
 
119 
 
 was well entertained by many of the observations 
 of the traveller, who has been long abroad : and 
 perceiving that my attention was fixed upon the 
 animals, and that I was desirous of knowing 
 their habits and instincts, he very politely in- 
 dulged my curiosity with several particulars 
 that he had seen in different parts of Asia. But 
 nothing delighted me so much as the extra- 
 ordinary contrivance of a certain species of spar- 
 row*, found in Hindustan, which, in the night- 
 time, lights up her nest with glow-worms; and, 
 after collecting them for this purpose, she fastens 
 them to the inside of her nest, by means of a 
 peculiar kind of clay, of a glutinous nature. 
 What an elegant illumination ! could our minds 
 be divested of the sufferings of the poor glow- 
 worms, whose brilliancy subjects them to a 
 painful death: they form an apt emblem of 
 beauty, that so often misleads its possessor into 
 error and folly. 
 
 The subject is less pleasing, but the conduct 
 of the creatures that are exposed to each other’s 
 fury, in the combats of wild beasts, in the island 
 of Java, at which this gentleman was present, 
 marks their instincts for self-defence, in a very 
 strong point of viewt. 
 
 * Asiatic Annual Register, 1802. 
 i Stavorinus’ Voyages to the East Indies. 
 
 When 
 
120 
 
 When a tiger and a buffalo are to fight for 
 the amusement of the court, they are both 
 brought upon the field of combat in large cages. 
 The place is surrounded by a body of Javanese, 
 four deep, with levelled pikes, in order that, if 
 the creatures endeavour to break through, they 
 may be killed immediately. This, however, is 
 not so easily effected, but that many of these poor 
 wretches are torn in pieces, or dreadfully wound- 
 ed by the enraged animals. 
 
 When every thing is in readiness, the cage of 
 the buffalo is first opened at the top, and his 
 back is rubbed with the leaves of a certain plant, 
 which have the singular quality of occasioning 
 intolerable pain . The door of the cage is then set 
 open, and the animal leaps out, raging with 
 agony, and roaring most dreadfully. The cage 
 of the tiger is then likewise opened, and fire is 
 thrown into it, to make the beast quit it, which 
 he generally does, running backwards out of it. 
 The tiger no sooner perceives the buffalo, than 
 he springs upon him : his huge opponent stands 
 expecting him, with his horns upon the ground, 
 in order to catch him upon them, and throw 
 him in the air. If the buffalo succeeds in his 
 design, and the tiger recovers from his fall, he 
 generally loses every wish of renewing the com- 
 bat; and if the tiger avoids this first attempt of 
 the buffalo, he springs upon him, and, seizing 
 
 him 
 
121 
 
 him in the neck, or other parts, tears his flesh 
 from his bones. In most cases, however, the 
 strength of the buffalo overcomes the address and 
 ferocity of the tiger. 
 
 This gentleman has promised to pass a few 
 weeks at Belvoir Castle, which will probably af- 
 ford me opportunities of collecting more anec- 
 dotes on our favourite topic, as he appears to be 
 a minute observer of the wonders of nature. 
 
 My letter is extended to so great a length, I 
 can only add, that I am, with sincere attach- 
 ment. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 Emily, 
 
 c* 
 
 LETTER 
 
m 
 
 LETTER XV. 
 
 FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 
 
 MY DEAR EMILY , 
 
 Revenge is not confined to the monkey 
 tribe: other animals are very susceptible of this 
 odious passion, and as they are deficient in that 
 reason which is given to us to restrain our evil 
 propensities, they yield to the impulse of their 
 feelings, without an attempt to subdue them. 
 Sonnini, who visited Egypt, tells us that the 
 camel, so distinguished for its patience and for- 
 bearance, is yet sensibly affected by injustice or 
 ill-treatment. u The Arabs, ” says he, “ assert, 
 that if a person has struck one without cause, he 
 will not find it easy to escape its vengeance; and 
 that they will retain the remembrance of if, till 
 an opportunity offers of gratifying their revenge. 
 It is said, that in their fits of rage, they sometimes 
 take up a man with their teeth, throw him on 
 the ground, and trample him under their feet. 
 Eager to revenge themselves, they no longer re- 
 tain any rancour when once they are satisfied ; 
 and it is even sufficient, if they believe they have 
 satiated their vengeance. Accordingly, when 
 an Arab has excited the rage of a camel, he lays 
 down his garments in some place near which the 
 
 animal 
 
123 
 
 animal will pass, and disposes them in such a 
 manner, that they appear to cover a man sleeping 
 under them. The camel knows the clothes of 
 him by whom he has been treated with injustice, 
 seizes them in his teeth, shakes them with vio- 
 lence, and tramples on them in a rage. When 
 his anger is appeased, he leaves them: and then 
 the owner of the dress may make his. appearance 
 without tear, load and guide the animal, who 
 submits, with amazing docility, to the will of a 
 man, whom, just before, he wished to destroy. 
 
 “ I have sometimes seen,” says he, u drome- 
 daries, weary of the impatience of their riders, 
 stop short, turn round their long necks to bite 
 them, and utter cries of rage. In these circum- 
 stances, the rider must be careful not to alight, 
 as he would infallibly be torn to pieces : he must 
 also refrain from striking his beast, which would 
 only increase his fury. Nothing can be done 
 but to have patience, and appease the animal by 
 patting him with the hand, which frequently 
 requires some time, when he will resume bis 
 way and his pace of himself.” 
 
 To those who view the animal kingdom with 
 an at tentive eye, the correspondence of the struc- 
 ture ot the different creatures, as well as the 
 peculiar senses bestowed upon each, with their 
 wants and the climates they inhabit, are no less 
 convincing proofs than their instincts, of the 
 G- 2 Infinity 
 
124 
 
 Infinite Intelligence that has adapted them ex* 
 actly to that place which they are appointed to 
 fill in the ranks of creation. The camel is to 
 the Arab, what the rein-deer is to the Laplander: 
 it is his all — his treasure. These creatures sup- 
 ply food and clothing to their possessors, besides 
 their wonderful powers of conveying their mas- 
 ters, with great rapidity, to a vast distance. 
 The camel is formed to traverse extensive deserts 
 of sand, where the thirsty traveller often perishes 
 from want of water: it is accordingly provided 
 with a peculiar resource against the calamity to 
 which it is so frequently exposed. Besides the 
 four stomachs, which it has in common with 
 other ruminating animals, it has a fifth bag, in 
 which water is preserved, without spoiling or 
 mixing with the other aliments. When the 
 camel is on a journey, and wants water to soften 
 its food whilst ruminating, it has only to con- 
 tract this bag by means of certain muscles, and 
 as much water as is required passes into its 
 stomach. In consequence of this peculiar form- 
 ation, this valuable creature can take a pro- 
 digious quantity of water at one draught, and 
 can sustain life for several days without drink- 
 ing. They are, moreover, endowed with the 
 extraordinary property of discovering water by 
 their smell at half a league’s distance; and, after 
 being some time deprived of it, will hasten 
 
 towards 
 
125 
 
 towards the spring, long before their riders per- 
 ceive that any is at hand. 
 
 We have already seen that the goat is fur- 
 nished with a hollow foot, to prevent it from 
 slipping off* the precipices: the broad foot of the 
 camel is equally well adapted for treading on a 
 sandy level; nor can it make a firm step ori 
 moist or slippery ground, or climb with safety 
 a steep ascent or a shelving declivity. Had the 
 camel and the goat, (the one an inhabitant of 
 the plain, the other of the mountains,) each re- 
 maining in other respects the same, exchanged 
 feet, neither could have subsisted in their native 
 climes. The properties of the rein-deer are as 
 opposite to those of the camel, as the frozen 
 regions he inhabits are to the scorching deserts 
 of Arabia. He can endure the utmost extreme 
 of cold, and his hunger is satisfied with a little 
 moss, that his instincts teach him to seek with 
 his hoofs under the snow. 
 
 Can any one observe this harmony of nature, 
 and not acknowledge the Divine Hand that has 
 so nicely adapted the creature and its natural 
 situation, to each other? The whole earth teems 
 with such correspondencies, had I but knowledge 
 and leisure to display them. The rational mind 
 cannot doubt that the innumerable worlds that 
 are dispersed in infinite space, abound likewise 
 
 in 
 
m 
 
 in monuments of the same wisdom and good- 
 ness. 
 
 An instance of this conformity of the structure 
 of animals, with the mode of life appointed for 
 them, occurred to us last night, as we wej*e 
 drinking tea at Mr. Palmer’s. A boy having 
 discovered the haunt of a viper near the garden 
 hedge, Mr. Palmer hastened to the spot, de- 
 stroyed the dangerous intruder, and afterwards 
 brought it into the parlour, in order to show us 
 the curious formation of the jaws and gullet, so 
 admirably adapted for swallowing food much 
 thicker than the usual size of the creature’s 
 body. In order to accomplish this purpose, 
 the head of this creature is broad and flat, hav- 
 ing a wide mouth, of very uncommon and dis- 
 proportionate size, which allows the jaws to 
 gape to a great extent. But this opening, capa- 
 cious as it is, would not be capable of receiving 
 the viper’s prey, had not its capacity of enlarge- 
 ment been still further increased by the following 
 nice contrivance. The jaws are not united to- 
 gether at the bottom, as in the human mouth, 
 by a sort of joint resembling a pair of hinges, 
 but connected by a strong muscle, which is so 
 elastic as to keep the features firm, when not in 
 action, and to allow their being stretched to an 
 immoderate extent, when the size or form of the 
 prey seized by the viper requires it. The gullet 
 
 or 
 
127 
 
 or throat, receives the food from the mouth, and 
 being very large and elastic, easily enlarges or 
 contracts, according to the size and shape of the 
 substance to be swallowed. From hence, a part 
 only is at once received into the stomach, which 
 is by no means so large a receptacle as the gul- 
 let : here it continues, till the usual course of di- 
 gestion reduces it to chyle, which, going off in 
 the natural way, affords room for the remaining 
 part to enter the stomach, and digest in like 
 manner as the former. 
 
 The examination of this viper turned the con- 
 versation on the subject of serpents in general, 
 and particularly on the strange power that has 
 often been attributed to them, of fascinating 
 their prey to that degree, that, notwithstanding 
 the dread that every creature feels at the sight of 
 their natural enemies, the prey of the serpent 
 tribe are said to approach (heir destroyers, and 
 even to go, by an irresistible impulse, into their 
 mouths. Some naturalists dispute the existence 
 of this power in the serpent, and imagine that 
 fear occasions this self-devotion of its prey ; 
 whilst others suppose, that the maternal affection 
 of birds induces the old one to present herself 
 to the ravager, with design to withdraw his at- 
 tention from her young; and, in her anxiety for 
 their safety, to venture incautiously so far, that 
 she can no longer recede from the grasp of her 
 
 enemy. 
 
m 
 
 enemy. That this is not always the case, is 
 proved by an experiment mentioned in the Phi- 
 losophical Transactions. “ A viper-catcher, 
 who had more than sixty living vipers in a 
 chest, put a living mouse in among them. Now 
 it is well known, that these creatures never feed 
 whilst in confinement, unless it be a female that 
 is with young. One of the vipers in this chest, 
 happened to be in this situation. None of the 
 others paid any attention to the mouse, but she 
 raised up her head a little, and looked furiously 
 at it. The terrified mouse stood still for a con- 
 siderable time, though the viper continued rolled 
 up in a spiral form, only raising up her head and 
 looking at it, vibrating her tongue at the same 
 time. The mouse at length took courage to move, 
 but without running away, only walking, as if 
 terrified, round and round the viper, squeaking 
 frequently as it went, till at length it came 
 before the head of its enemy, which was still in 
 an erect posture, with the mouth open. The 
 unfortunate mouse, after some time, drew nearer, 
 and at last crept into the viper’s mouth, where 
 it was gradually swallowed, without obliging 
 her to alter her position.” 
 
 Tasso has given a beautiful description of one 
 of this wily race, in his Jerusalem Delivered, 
 which to you, who have a poetical taste, can- 
 not 
 
129 
 
 not fail of being an acceptable sequel to the 
 subject. 
 
 “ When lo! a serpent rushing from his cell, 
 
 Oppos’d their passage, horrible and fell ! 
 
 Aloft his head and squalid breast he held; 
 
 Bestreak’d with gold, his neck with anger swell’d ; 
 
 Fire fill’d his eyes; he hid the path beneath ; 
 
 And smoke and poison issued with his breath. 
 
 Now in thick curls, his scaly length he wound ; 
 
 Now trail’d his opening curls along the ground.” 
 
 I will now dismiss the inferior orders of crea- 
 tion, and fill the remainder of my sheet with 
 some anecdotes that will make you better ac- 
 quainted with Mr. Palmer’s character. When 
 he was first presented to the living he now enjoys, 
 the generality of his parishioners were sunk in 
 the grossest ignorance, and had scarcely any other 
 notions of religion, than such as they had im- 
 bibed from the wildest enthusiasts, called Jump- 
 ers, who bound them in the chains of superstition. 
 His first care was to make himself beloved, by 
 the exercise of every kind office, and to allevi- 
 ate, as much as possible, their temporal wants. 
 Having gained their affections, he began to give 
 them advice as a friend; and by the slow but 
 powerful influence of example, united with pre- 
 cept, gave them new and rational views of their 
 duty. The interest he* took in their affairs, 
 the condescending and sympathetic visits, that 
 G 5 both 
 
130 
 
 both he and Mrs. Palmer frequently paid to 
 their neighbours of all classes, endeared them 
 greatly, not to the parish only, but to those who 
 lived beyond its boundaries. General esteem 
 was followed by a degree of respect approaching 
 to veneration. As he is far more desirous of pro- 
 moting the cause of piety and virtue, than of ob- 
 taining the reputation of an orator, his discourses 
 are plain and instructive ; enforcing the example 
 of our Divine Master, rather than displaying his 
 learning on abstract subjects, that his congrega- 
 tion do not understand : so that the meanest ca- 
 pacity may go home the wiser and better for 
 the lesson delivered from the pulpit. The great 
 aim of his life is, to discharge, conscientiously, 
 the sacred functions of his profession, with the 
 moderation and humility of a Christian, without 
 aspiring after riches or dignity. Nor will you 
 accuse me of drawing a flattering picture, when 
 you know, that, through the means of a powerful 
 family connexion, he was, some time ago, present- 
 ed to a lucrative and dignified benefice; but no 
 offers, however tempting— no persuasions — could 
 induce him to leave his flock, to whom he con- 
 siders himself united for life; and that, having 
 once engaged to devote his time and faculties to 
 their spiritual improvement, he has determined 
 to reject every proposal of temporal advantage, 
 
 that 
 
13 1 
 
 that should dissolve a connexion so dear to him, 
 and that yields so much satisfaction With 
 such opinions, you may believe he has no taste 
 for the pleasures of luxury or indulgence : his 
 table is plain, though plentifully supplied. His 
 wife admires his principles, and promotes all his 
 plans. Simplicity, with neatness, appear in 
 every part of her domestic arrangements. The 
 children are brought up to be useful, rather than 
 to shine: the cultivation of their understandings 
 is preferred to showy accomplishments; but 
 great attention is paid to their manners, and the 
 government of the temper. They are but young 
 at present, therefore it is impossible to decide 
 on their future characters; but hitherto they are 
 distinguished by their gentleness, activity, and 
 affectionate dispositions. 
 
 With this happy family I pass much of my 
 time in a very agreeable manner; perfect inti- 
 macy subsisting between them and Mrs. Saville. 
 1 am neither dull nor solitary with such associ- 
 ates. My mind is opened to new views: I see 
 things in a different light; and this retirement, 
 which would formerly have been a banishment, 
 is now my choice. My amusements, my em- 
 
 * A similar anecdote is related of Dr. Burgess, the present 
 bishop of St. David’?, 
 
 ployments 
 
132 
 
 ployments are new ; but they have not less zest 
 > than my former ones, and they afford far greater 
 variety, than one dull round of visiting and 
 public diversions. 
 
 Adieu, my Emily : write soon, and you will 
 give pleasure to your sincerely affectionate 
 
 Caroline 
 
 LETTER 
 
133 
 
 LETTER XVI* 
 
 FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 
 
 DEAR CAROLINE , 
 
 When my father and Mr. Craven return 
 from the sports of the field, they generally chat 
 over the exploits of the day, and are often led 
 into curious disquisitions on the nature of ani- 
 mals, and other topics of natural history. On 
 these occasions, I am usually an attentive listener, 
 as I employ myself with my work; but seldom 
 take any part in the conversation, unless my curi- 
 osity is particularly excited, my father not being 
 fond of interruption. But the other evening, 
 I was so much interested, I could not restrain 
 myself from urging Mr. Craven to give me alL 
 the information he could, on the amazing swift- 
 ness of the flight of birds. 
 
 A partridge that had escaped beyond the aim 
 of their guns, gave rise to an argument on the 
 comparative velocity of different creatures. 
 
 My father remembered having seen a famous 
 race-horse, named Eclipse, gallop a mile in a 
 minute, and he was of opinion, that few birds 
 could fly faster. Mr. Craven replied, that the 
 instance he mentioned, far exceeded the utmost 
 efforts of horses in general, but that even that 
 
 extraordinary 
 
134 
 
 extraordinary example would not bear any com- 
 parison with the ease and swiftness with which 
 the winged tribes cleave the air ; especially when 
 the extreme fatigue, lassitude, and debility, that 
 follow such exertions in a horse, are taken into 
 the question. u But,” continued he, u in order 
 to give you a more accurate idea of the surprising 
 capacity of birds, to pass over a vast space in a 
 short time, I will relate the gradations of motion 
 in different animals, as 1 heard them from a 
 gentleman who still preserves a taste for the 
 almost-forgotten diversion of hawking, and who 
 has paid particular attention to the present sub- 
 ject. At a Newmarket coursing meeting, the 
 fleetest horse in training was taken out, and a 
 hare being found at a few miles’ distance from 
 any cover, the very best brace of greyhounds 
 were let out of slips. It was a dry morning in 
 March, when hares are supposed to be most 
 swift. The greyhounds were never able to turn 
 the hare, which is a proof that her speed was 
 superior to theirs. The jockey who rode the 
 horse, was one of the most skilful of his profes- 
 sion, and of a remarkably light weight. His 
 account of the pursuit, in the language of sports- 
 men, was, that he could live, or keep up with 
 the dogs, but could not draw’, or get nearer the 
 hare; nay, he acknowledged that she continued 
 
 to 
 
135 
 
 to gain upon him*. Rabbits never venture far 
 from their burrows, but it is well known, that, 
 for the distance they go, they run much faster 
 than a hare : a fact clearly shown by this circum- 
 stance, that few greyhounds ever kill a rabbit in 
 coursing: when they happen to catch them, it 
 is by surprise, or a sudden spring. The slowest 
 flying hawk will strike upon a rabbit with 
 scarcely an appearance of moving; so much 
 more rapidly does it fly, than a rabbit can run. 
 Yet this hawk flies too slowly to catch a par- 
 tridge: a much swifter species of hawk is re- 
 quisite for that pursuit, and one of still greater 
 speed for a pigeon ; but for a swallow, a hawk 
 must be found that can outstrip all these com- 
 petitors. Therefore, if we take the speed of the 
 swiftest horse at sixty miles an hour, (though 
 no horse ever maintained that pace for so long a 
 time,) as a standard by which the rest may be 
 estimated, and pursue the calculation from the 
 horse to the greyhound, hare, rabbit, slow hawk, 
 partridge, pigeon, swallow, and hawks of the 
 swiftest kind, we may pretty satisfactorily ac- 
 count for the amazing rapidity w ith w hich birds 
 perform long voyages. If we only suppose them 
 to go at the rate of half a mile in a minute, for 
 
 * Sir John Seabright favoured me with the above in- 
 formation. 
 
 the 
 
136 
 
 the space of twenty-four hours, they will pass 
 over, in that time, an extent of more than seven 
 hundred miles; but, if assisted by a favourable 
 current of air, there is reason to suppose, that an 
 equal voyage may be performed in less time.” 
 My father, though astonished at the result, 
 acknowledged that Mr. Craven’s reasoning had 
 the greatest air of probability, however incredible 
 it might appear at the first view, to those who had 
 never made the comparison between the known 
 speed of quadrupeds, and the probable swiftness 
 of birds. u How surprising,” said I, u that 
 such a little tender creature as a swallow, should 
 be capable of enduring such excessive fatigue, 
 and travelling to such vast distances.” This re- 
 mark drew from Mr. Craven many observations 
 on the harmony of the structure of birds, with 
 their habits and necessities, and the migration of 
 various kinds of animals; which show that he 
 lias collected knowledge from books, as well as 
 experience, and pleased me so well, that I can- 
 not withhold them from you. “ The goodness 
 and wisdom of Providence,” said he, “ has fur- 
 nished every creature with those things best 
 adapted to its wants. Birds of passage are ad- 
 mirably qualified for such expeditions as their 
 instincts prompt them to undertake. Let us select 
 the swallow as an example. The narrowness of 
 its front, if the expression is allowable, exposes 
 
 but 
 
137 
 
 but a small surface to the resistance of the air. 
 The glossy smoothness of their feathers, which lie 
 so compactly oyer one another, and, above all, 
 the membraneous cells or cavities distributed in 
 their bones for the reception of air, make them 
 light and buoyant. The length of the outward 
 feathers of the wings of the swallow tribe, qualify 
 them in a peculiar manner, for their mode of 
 life, which is being almost always on the wing*. 
 Their food is insects, and their forked tail serves 
 as a rudder to enable them to dart either way 
 in pursuit of their nimble prey, which would 
 otherwise escape them.” 
 
 At this moment, my cousin Henry, who is a 
 student at Cambridge, but much fonder of the 
 diversions of the turf than the stores of ancient 
 learning, entered the parlour, and confirmed the 
 assertions of Mr. Craven, with respect to the 
 progressive swiftness of different kinds of birds, 
 and their capacity for maintaining their speed 
 for a great length of way. He said, that a fa* 
 vourite carrier pigeon won him a considerable 
 sum, by flying from Newmarket to London, a 
 distance of sixty miles, within the hour. Since 
 this conversation, I have gone every evening, 
 about sun-set, to the hill behind the plantations, 
 to watch the rooks returning home from feeding; 
 and, I observe, that in the space of a few 
 minutes, I often see them pass a considerable 
 
 extent 
 
138 
 
 extent; for I can perceive them four or five miles 
 before they reach me, and as far after they have 
 passed me; and the whole, comparatively speak- 
 ing, the action of a moment. The surprising 
 power of wing bestowed on birds of passage, 
 makes me long to know some particulars of their 
 excursions: perhaps your friend Mr. Palmer, 
 will satisfy my curiosity. If you can obtain 
 any particulars on this subject, it will furnish 
 you with a topic for your reply, which I shall 
 impatiently expect; as nothing affords me more 
 pleasure, than to hear from you, and to share in 
 the adventures of your cottage life. 
 
 Direct to me, in London ; for, to my great 
 mortification, my father’s affairs oblige him to 
 take up his abode there for a few weeks. 1 am, 
 my dear Caroline, your affectionate friend, 
 
 Emily. 
 
 LETTER 
 
m 
 
 LETTER XVII. 
 
 FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 
 
 MY DEAR EMILY , 
 
 Your enquiry concerning the passage of 
 birds from one country to another, has procured 
 for us a very entertaining lecture from Mr. 
 Palmer, on this curious subject, the general 
 sense of which I shall transcribe in my own 
 words. Many species of birds change their 
 situation, regularly, at particular seasons of the 
 year; either because the food which they live 
 upon fails, or for the sake of a warmer or 
 colder climate, or in search of a more secure re- 
 treat for rearing their young. Some cross wide 
 seas, and retire to distant countries; whilst others 
 migrate only from one part of the same country, 
 to another part that is more or less warm, ac- 
 cording to their constitution. Linnets are said 
 only to shift their quarters, breeding in one part 
 of the island, and removing, with their young, to 
 another. It appears, that all the individuals of 
 a species do not always make the same journeys, 
 or retreat to the same places. The hooded 
 crow remains in North Britain the whole year, 
 whilst some of the species have been known to 
 breed on Dartmoor, in Devonshire. Of those 
 
 which 
 
140 
 
 which inhabit Sweden, some remain in certain 
 provinces the whole year, whilst others, in differ- 
 ent situations, change their habitations. 
 
 It is well known that the cuckoo leaves us in 
 autumn, and does not return till spring; but 
 where he hides himself during the winter, has 
 not yet been discovered. 
 
 The wryneck is supposed to feed on ants : 
 when these insects have retired into their winter 
 quarters, hunger obliges him to seek support in 
 a warmer climate. 
 
 The fieldfare and the redwing live on berries. 
 Our hedges supply them with this kind of food 
 in winter, and in summer they are feasted in 
 the forests of Norway, and other northern coun- 
 tries. 
 
 Larks, fly-catchers, wagtails, and warblers, 
 feed on insects and worms; yet only part of them 
 quit our island on the approach of winter, 
 though it is reasonable to suppose, that the same 
 motive would influence them all to act alike. 
 
 Every species of curlews, woodcocks, sand- 
 pipers, and plovers, leave this country in the 
 spring, and retire to the North of Europe to 
 breed. i\s soon as the young can fly, they return 
 here; because the frost, which sets in early in 
 those cold regions, hardens the ground, and de- 
 prives them of their natural subsistence, which is 
 
 worms, 
 
Ml 
 
 worms, as their bills can no longer penetrate the 
 earth, in search of their prey. 
 
 Lapland is a country of lakes, rivers, swamps, 
 and mountains, covered with thick and gloomy 
 forests, that afford, in the summer season, a se- 
 cure, undisturbed retreat to innumerable multi- 
 tudes of water-fowl, of almost every species, 
 which, in winler, disperse over thegreatest part of 
 Europe. Wild swans, geese, ducks, goosanders, 
 divers, and other water-fowl, repair to Lapland 
 to pass the summer, where they rear their young, 
 and are daily regaled on myriads of the larva* of 
 gnats, and other insects, that abound in the lakes 
 of that country. Few of these tribes breed in 
 England. They return from their northern ex- 
 cursion about the beginning of October, and 
 first hover round our shores, till, compelled by 
 severe frost, they betake themselves to our lakes 
 and rivers. Some of the web-footed are of more 
 hardy constitutions than others, and they are 
 able to endure the ordinary winters of the north- 
 ern regions; but when the cold is unusually 
 severe, they are obliged to seek a shelter in our 
 more moderate climes. 
 
 The gannet visits our shores, in pursuit of the 
 shoals of herrings and pilchards that annually 
 migrate into our seas, and sometimes extends her 
 journeys even to the Tagus, to prey on the sar- 
 dina. Few of the different species of wild geese 
 
 and 
 
m 
 
 and ducks breed here: perhaps, because they 
 are too much interrupted in a populous country ; 
 for it appears, that birds of a shy disposition 
 sometimes leave their usual station for the sake of 
 privacy, when the number of inhabitants in- 
 creases. Naturalists assert, that when great 
 part of our island was a mere waste, a tract of 
 woods and fens, many species of birds, which 
 now migrate at the breeding season, remained in 
 full confidence throughout the year. 
 
 The egret, a species of heron now seldom 
 found in this country, in former times abounded 
 here in great numbers; and the crane, that has 
 totally forsaken us, bred familiarly in our marshes, 
 as, like other cloven-footed water-fowl, (the 
 heron excepted,) they make their nest upon the 
 ground, exposed to the rude touch of every in- 
 truder. When the number of people increased, 
 forests were cut down, swamps drained, and the 
 plough made inroads where the ground had 
 never before been turned up: these operations 
 disturbed the solitary haunts of the timid wild- 
 fowl, and, by degrees, drove them to seek a 
 situation more congenial to their habits ; whilst 
 those species that nestle on the almost inaccessible 
 rocks, that in some parts impend over the British 
 seas, still breed there in vast numbers, having 
 nothing to fear from man, except the rare dis- 
 turbance 
 
143 
 
 turbance of a few desperadoes, who venture their 
 lives in search of birds’ eggs. 
 
 The migration of animals is a surprising pro- 
 pensity, evidently impressed on them for their 
 preservation, by their Creator. Each species 
 knows the proper season for departure, and the 
 course they should pursue. They understand 
 one another, and assemble for their voyage, at 
 some appointed signal unknown to us. The time, 
 the place, and the order of their passage, differ 
 according to the species; and what is a still more 
 striking proof of design in these emigrations, is, 
 the conformity between the vegetation of some 
 plants, and the arrival of certain birds of pas- 
 sage. Linnams observes, that the wood anemone 
 blows in Sweden on the arrival of the swallow, 
 and the marsh marygold, when the cuckoo sings. 
 And, it is most probable, that it is only from 
 the want of accurate observation, that many 
 more such agreements remain unknown ; for 
 there may be attractions, or objects of aversion, 
 between plants and animals, that are wholly con- 
 cealed from us. It is said, that birds of passage 
 follow a leader during the day, who is occasion- 
 ally changed, and, during the night, makes a 
 continual cry, that their company may be kept 
 together by the sound. 
 
 Swallows that have been hatched too late to 
 acquire their full strength of pinion, or such as are 
 
 maimed 
 
maimed or diseased, have frequently been found 
 in the hollows of rocks, on the sea coasts, and 
 even under water, in a torpid state, from which, 
 warmth has revived them. From these circum- 
 stances, doubts have arisen, whether swallows 
 migrate, or lie dormant; but there are so many 
 proofs of their migration, that there is ground to 
 believe these deviations are only accidental. On 
 the approach of cold weather they have been 
 often observed hovering on the sea coast, as if 
 waiting for a calm, or a favourable wind, to waft 
 them to their destined port. In warm climates, 
 these tender birds remain stationary, because 
 there is no cold to injure them, or destroy the 
 insects upon which they feed. 
 
 Linnaeus says, that the female chaffinches 
 alone, leave Sweden in September, and migrate 
 to Holland, forsaking their mates till the return 
 of spring; a deviation from the usual course, for 
 which it is not easy to account. 
 
 This extraordinary propensity to change their 
 residence, is not confined to birds; fish and in- 
 sects are known to migrate at certain seasons. 
 Shoals of herrings, cod, and haddocks, approach 
 our shores at a particular time of the year, and 
 quit them with equal regularity, without leaving 
 a single one behind. 
 
 Adanson, a celebrated traveller, relates, that 
 near the river Gambia in Africa, about eight in 
 
 the 
 
the morning, In February, there suddenly arose 
 over his head a thick cloud, which darkened 
 the air, and deprived him and his companions 
 oftheraysof the sun. lie soon found that it 
 was a swarm of locusts, raised about twenty 
 or thirty fathoms from the ground, and covering 
 an extent of several leagues. At length, a shower 
 of these insects descended, and, after devouring 
 every green herb whilst they rested, renewed 
 their flight. This cloud was brought by a strong 
 east wind, and was the whole morning in passing 
 over the adjacent country. To the testimony 
 of this traveller may be added, that gnats, bees, 
 and muskitoes, sometimes migrate from one place 
 to another. 
 
 Here Mrs. Saville interrupted Mr. Palmer, by 
 remarking, that rats migrate from place to place; 
 as, when she was young, she had once an oppor- 
 tunity of observing. Being on a visit witli a re- 
 lation who resided in ail old mansion, she slept 
 with a maid-servant, at the end of a long gallery, 
 in a chamber, to which belonged an anti-cham- 
 ber, divided from the bed-chamber by folding 
 doors, which were set open, on account of a 
 light placed in the middle of the anti-chamber. 
 About midnight, they were awakened by a 
 noise, and, on opening the curtains, were much 
 alarmed on seeing a great number of rats sur- 
 rounding the rushlight. Not knowing how to 
 ii drive 
 
146 
 
 drive away these unexpected enemies, they threw 
 a pincushion into the midst of them, and, in a 
 moment, the whole company disappeared. The 
 sudden decampment of the rats, frightened the 
 two girls ♦almost as much as their appearance. 
 The servant explained the phenomenon as an 
 omen of some misfortune, which, though not 
 satisfactory to Mrs. Saville’s more cultivated 
 mind, she was still unable to account for what 
 she had seen, and was almost ready to doubt the 
 evidence of her senses. In this state of suspense 
 she lay watching till morning. When it was 
 time to rise* the maid attempted to reach some 
 of her clothes that had fallen on the ground, 
 when a rat, which had concealed itself in them, 
 Hew at her and tore her arm. The next day, 
 carpenters were employed to examine the apart- 
 ments, but neither crack nor cranny was found 
 through which a rat could pass; it was therefore 
 supposed that these rats were on a journey, and 
 in their passage came down the chimney, and 
 returned by the same aperture*. 
 
 Mr. Palmer said, that this was an extraordi- 
 nary instance of the migYation of rats, which, 
 in this country* was effected in smaller com- 
 panies than in the cold regions of the north ; 
 
 * This circumstance happened to an cut room of the 
 author’s, in the house opposite Bow Church in Chcapside. 
 
147 
 
 here, as travellers relate, the great Norway 
 rats migrate in astonishing multitudes, and never 
 go out of their way, but pass over any obstruction 
 they meet in their road* 
 
 Evening closed the conversation. Before we 
 parted, it was proposed that Rachel and I should 
 accompany Mr. and Mrs. Palmer, on a little 
 excursion to the sea-coast. We both looked 
 at Mrs. Saville for her approbation ; for no plea- 
 sure could tempt either of us to do any thing 
 disagreeable to her. With a gracious smile 
 she nodded assent, and to-morrow we leave her 
 for a few days. On my return, I shall write 
 again, if your town engagements will leave you 
 leisure to read an epistle from one, whose best 
 claim to your notice is her affection. 
 
 Caroline, 
 
 h 2 
 
 LETT EB 
 
148 
 
 LETTER XVIII. 
 
 FROM TIIE SAME TO THE SAME. 
 
 DEAR EMILY , 
 
 After a very pleasant excursion through 
 the Isle of Anglesey, I am again fixed under the 
 protection of my kind friend, Mrs. Saville, who 
 lias the Valuable art of rendering “ to-morrow 
 cheerful as to-day;” and, by a happy succession 
 of employment for the body and the mind, 
 teaching her inmates to be contented with tlieib- 
 selves, and strangers to ennui. Every one of 
 her family feels the sympathy of friendship for 
 each other. She well knows how r to mix the 
 dignity of authority with kindness. Her ser- 
 vants are bound to her, not merely by the sordid 
 tics of interest, but by those of affection : they 
 daily feel her solicitude for their most important 
 concerns, and they reward her care by unfeigned 
 attachment. Old Sarah was as much rejoiced 
 to see us safely returned, as Mrs. Saville herself. 
 She lived with my aunt before Rachel was born, 
 and though she treats her with great respect, 
 she is as fond of her as if she were her mother. 
 Had you seen our reception, you would have 
 supposed we had been absent a month, instead 
 
 of 
 
of a few days.— But I have said enough on this 
 subject : it is time to amuse you with something 
 of a different nature. 
 
 In the course of our excursion, we visited the 
 small island of Pricstholm, which lies near the 
 coast of Anglesey. It might be called the land 
 of puffins: fifty acres of ground were literally 
 covered with them: the air, the sea, the rocks, 
 seemed alive with them. They are so tame and 
 inactive, as to suffer themselves to be knocked 
 down with a stick. Their legs are placed so 
 far back, that they stand with their heads nearly 
 upright. Their bill forms a triangle, and is of 
 an orange red. The upper part of the plumage, 
 and a collar round (he neck, are blackish, soft- 
 ened into a greyish white; and the under parts 
 are quite white. The legs are orange. Their 
 tail and wings are short. They do not rise from 
 the ground with facility, which makes them 
 generally careful to alight on such places from 
 whence they can either run down the slope of a 
 liill, or throw themselves from the rocks. 
 
 Puffins are birds of passage, and resort to 
 these coasts in the spring, remaining here till 
 about the 11th of August. They are formidable 
 enemies to the rabbits, that were once numerous 
 on this island; for, on their arrival, they imme- 
 diately take possession of the burrows in the 
 crevices of the rocks, or on the sloping ground ; 
 
 and 
 
150 
 
 and if the latest comers find all the holes occu- 
 pied, they make new ones for themselves. We 
 were told that the male birds undertake this 
 task; and that, whilst they are thus employed, 
 they are so intent on their work, that they arc 
 easily caught with the hand. These invaders 
 have nearly extirpated the rabbits; for few 7 of 
 these defenceless animals are able to resist the 
 strength of their beaks. 
 
 They form something like a nest, of a few 
 sticks and grass put together, on which the 
 female lays a single white sgg, that is generally 
 hatched in the beginning of July. The parent 
 birds are thought to sit alternately, and each, by 
 turns, go abroad for food. They are easily taken 
 whilst sitting or rearing their young; and if set 
 at liberty, these silly birds, instead of flying 
 away, either from parental fondness, or for the 
 sake of shelter, hurry back to their young brood, 
 and fall into the hands of their enemies. 
 
 Young puffins are pickled for sale, and form 
 an article of traffic peculiar to this neighbour- 
 hood ; but they are apt to have a strong flavour, 
 from feeding on sprats and sea-weeds. 
 
 As w r e have lately turned our attention to the 
 subject of migration, perhaps you will be enter- 
 tained with some account of the land-crab, that 
 is found in the Bahama Islands, as well as in 
 most tropical countries, and feeds upon vege- 
 tables. 
 
151 
 
 tables. These animals not only live in a kind 
 of orderly society, in their retreats in the moun- 
 tains, but march, regularly, about April or May, 
 to the sea-side, in a body of some millions at a 
 time. At the proper season, they sally out 
 from the stumps of hollow trees, the clefts of 
 rocks, and the holes which they dig for them- 
 selves under the surface of the earth. When 
 they are on their march, the ground is covered 
 with them, so that a step can scarcely be taken 
 without treading on them. The sea is their 
 place of destination, and to that they advance 
 without any deviation. No geometrician could 
 send them to their appointed station by a shorter 
 course: they neither turn to the right nor to the 
 left, whatever obstacle intervenes : even if a house 
 stand in the way, they will attempt to scale the 
 walls. Natural impediments arc not so easily 
 overcome : they are obliged to conform to the 
 face of the country : if it is intersected with 
 rivers, they are then seen to wind along the 
 course of the stream. The procession from the 
 mountains is generally formed into three divi- 
 sions. The first consists of the strongest and 
 boldest males, that, like pioneers, clear the wav, 
 and face the greatest dangers. These are often 
 obliged to halt for v r ant of rain, and seek the 
 most convenient retirement, till a change of 
 weather enables them to go forward. The main 
 
 body 
 
body is composed of Females, which never leave 
 the mountains till (lie rainy season is begun. 
 They march in regular order, being formed into 
 columns fifty paces broad, and three miles long, 
 and so close that they almost cover the ground. 
 In a few day s this company is followed by a 
 parcel of stragglers, male and female, that are 
 not so strong as those which have advanced 
 before them. They travel chiefly in the night* 
 but if a shower falls in the day, they do not fail 
 to take advantage of it. If they are alarmed, 
 they turn back in a confused, disorderly manner, 
 holding up their nippers and clattering them 
 together, as a sort of threat to their enemies. 
 When any one of them happens to be wounded 
 or maimed, so that lie cannot proceed, they de- 
 vour him without mercy, as if determined to get 
 rid of all impediments, and then pursue their 
 march. 
 
 As soon as their journey, which lasts several 
 weeks, is concluded by reaching the shore, they 
 prepare to cast their spawn, by suffering the 
 waves to wash over their bodies, which is sup- 
 posed to assist the growth of t he eggs; for they 
 soon afterwards appear under the barbs of the 
 tail, in a bunch as large as a lien’s egg. They 
 now seek the shore for the last time, and deposit 
 their spawn in the water, leaving it to the 
 chance of accidents to preserve or destroy them. 
 
 At 
 
153 
 
 At this season, when it is said that the waters 
 are blackened by the crabs’ spawn, shoals of 
 hungry fish approach the shore, in expectation 
 of this annual supply of food, and countless 
 millions of these eggs are devoured by their 
 rapacious enemies. Those that escape the gene- 
 ral destruction are hatched under the sand; and 
 soon after, multitudes of these young crabs are 
 seen travelling towards the mountains. The 
 old ones, by this time, are grown so lean and 
 feeble, that they are obliged to remain in the 
 flat parts of the country, till they are more able 
 to return: in this state they retreat into holes, 
 closing the entrance with leaves and dirt, that 
 they may be secured from the air whilst they 
 throw off their shells and gain new ones. Dur- 
 ing this operation, they are quite naked, and 
 almost motionless. As soon as the new shell is 
 sufficiently hardened, the crab sets out on its 
 return, and having recovered its flesh, is, at that 
 time, very good eating*. 
 
 It has been asserted, that when crabs have 
 lost their shells, the place of their retreat is fre- 
 quently guarded by a hard-shelled crab, who, 
 at that time, advances boldly to meet the foe, 
 and will with difficulty quit the field; yet shows 
 great timidity on other occasions, and has a 
 
 * Encyclopaedia Briianmca, 
 
 H 5 
 
 wonderful 
 
m 
 
 wonderful speed in attempting his escape; but, 
 if often interrupted, feigns death, in order to de- 
 ceive his pursuer, whilst he watches an oppor- 
 tunity to sink himself inio the sand, leaving 
 only his eyes exposed. Whether this account 
 refers to any particular species of crab, or to the 
 whole kind, I am not able to ascertain. 
 
 I cannot conclude without relating a very sin- 
 gular circumstance that has happened at the 
 parsonage-house, and given Mr. Palmer much 
 uneasiness *. I must begin my story by telling 
 you, that a large house-dog is kept in the yard, 
 who is a sagacious animal: — kind to his friends, 
 but formidable to those whom he regards as the 
 enemies of the family. This dog is let loose of 
 a night. A labourer, who has been employed 
 on the farm long enough to gain some confi- 
 dence, was entrusted with the key of the barn, 
 and frequently employed to bring sacks of corn 
 from the barn to the house for family use. One 
 night this man went, after the dog, who knew 
 him well, was unchained, and took a sack of 
 corn. The dog attended him very quietly, as 
 Jong as he pursued the path that led to his mas- 
 ter’s house; but when he turned his course into 
 the road that took him to the village, he caught 
 
 * This singular instance of sagacity happened at Church 
 Eden in Staffordshire, and is related on the authority of the 
 late Mr. Sneyd, of Belmont. 
 
 hold 
 
155 
 
 hold of his coat, and would not let him stir; as 
 much as to say , (C Where are you going with my 
 master’s corn ?” The man tried then to go back 
 again w ith the sack to the barn ; but the dog, as 
 if conscious of his design, would neither let him. 
 do that, nor yet carry the sack to the parsonage. 
 In this dilemma the man was obliged to remain 
 all night, standing with the sack of corn and 
 the dog, who held him fast, though he did not 
 bite or hurt him in the least; and in this strange 
 situation lie was found in the morning. A cir- 
 cumstance so extraordinary led to a discovery 
 of his guilty intention; for he could not account 
 how he came there with a sack of corn, pinned 
 down by the dog, but by throwing himself on 
 Mr. Palmer’s mercy, and making an open con- 
 fession of his dishonesty. 
 
 The sagacity of this faithful dog has not only- 
 saved his master’s corn, but is likely to be a 
 means of reclaiming the man, by an early ex- 
 posure of his fault ; for, it seems, he has been led 
 away by some bad companions, who persuaded 
 him to this attempt. Mr. Palmer lias taken 
 great pains to convince him of the danger of 
 such associates, and the enormity of his offence ; 
 and the more effectually to preserve him from 
 any further intercourse with them, and to re- 
 move him from a place where his character is 
 lost, has prevailed w ith a friend of bis in Shrop- 
 shire, 
 
156 
 
 shire, to take him on trial, having first in* 
 formed him of his misconduct. This last act 
 of kindness entirely overcame him — he wept 
 like a child, and made the most solemn promises 
 of amendment. As he is young, and not har- 
 dened in vice, hopes may be entertained that 
 he will keep his word, and afford his master 
 the satisfaction of having, by well-timed lenity, 
 saved a fellow-creature from ruin. How supe- 
 rior is this merciful conduct, to that unfeeling 
 severity that inflicts the rigour of the law on the 
 first offence, and gives no opportunity to the 
 noviciate in vice to recover the false steps he has 
 taken. 
 
 Mr. Palmer is a justice of peace, and though 
 very merciful, and considerate of every allow- 
 ance for beginners, he is as firm in punishing 
 old offenders; and especially those who mislead 
 the young and innocent. Mercy to them, he 
 says, is cruelty to the rest of society; and he 
 thinks it is his duty to prevent the repetition of 
 crimes by a certainty of punishment. 
 
 Dinner is announced : I have only time to 
 bid you adieu, and close my letter, 
 
 Caroline. 
 
 LETTER 
 
157 
 
 LETTER XIX. 
 
 FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 
 
 DEAR CAROLINE , 
 
 London is not the field for natural history, 
 nor did 1 expect, in this region of bustle and 
 visits, to collect any instances of the sagacious 
 faculties of the brute creation ; but where the 
 mind is intent on any single pursuit, there is no 
 place so barren, but may yield some supply of 
 knowledge, nor any company so insignificant, 
 but may afford some gleanings worth pre- 
 serving. 
 
 We joined a large family party a few days 
 ago at my uncle’s, where the younger part of 
 the company was excused from the slavery of 
 the card-table, and indulged with the enjoyment 
 of free conversation. Amongst this cheerful 
 group was a Westminster scholar *, who related 
 a curious fact of a blind beggar, who frequently 
 solicits charity in that neighbourhood, particu- 
 larly in Dean’s Yard, accompanied by a dog, 
 who is really a valuable friend to this poor man. 
 He serves him as a guide, and conducts him 
 from street to street with safety; but this office, 
 
 * Edward Gibbon Wakefield, grandson to the author. 
 
 though 
 
158 
 
 though very useful, shows no unusual degree of 
 intelligence. Many dogs are taught to lead the 
 blind —this dog does more : when charitable peo- 
 ple fling halfpence from the windows, to his 
 master, he searches carefully for them, picks 
 them up with his mouth, and deposits them in 
 the hand held out to receive them. And this he 
 repeats, without being tired, whatever number of 
 halfpence may happen to be thrown out. The 
 dexterity of the dog in collecting the money, 
 is an inducement for many to bestow the pittance 
 for which the beggar pleads; especially the boys 
 belonging to the school, who are highly amused 
 with exercising the dog in his business, and 
 trying to render the task more difficult by hiding 
 the money in the mud. But whether he be 
 guided by the scent of the copper, or the keen- 
 ness of his sight, he seldom fails to find them. 
 
 This account interested the parly: most of 
 them found a story to relate, some of which are 
 so curious, I must repeat them. 
 
 A dog belonging to Mr. Taylor, a clergy- 
 man, who lived at Colton, near W olscley Bridge, 
 was accused of killing numbers of sheep. Com- 
 plaints were made to his master, who asserted 
 that the thing was impossible, because he was 
 muzzled every night. The neighbours persist- 
 ing in the charge, the dog one night was watch- 
 ed, and he was seen to get his bead out of the 
 
 muzzle, 
 
159 
 
 muzzled, then to go into a field, and kill and eat 
 as much of a sheep as satisfied his appetite. He 
 next went into the river, to wash his mouth, or 
 quench his thirst, and returned afterwards to his 
 kennel, got his head unto the muzzle again, and 
 lay very quietly down to sleep*. This looks 
 like a consciousness of doing what he ought not 
 to do, and a determination to indulge appetite 
 by stealth. 
 
 The same design is apparent in a horse, 
 which had been observed to disengage his head 
 from the halter, then to open the door of the 
 stable, and go out, in the middle of the night 
 only, and regale upon corn in a field at a con- 
 siderable distance from the stable. The horse 
 returned to his stall before the break of day, and 
 had continued this practice some time, without 
 being detected. He adroitly opened the door, 
 by drawing a string fastened to the latch, with 
 his teeth. And, it is said, that on returning to 
 the stable he shut the door: but 1 am not so 
 credulous as to attribute that to design, but 
 rather to the swing of the door, that closed after 
 him without any effort to make it do so t. 
 
 * Related by Miss Sneyd, sister to the late Mrs. Edge- 
 worth . 
 
 + This anecdote was related to Dr; M‘Do«nel of Belfast 
 by a friend, on whose veracity he could rely. 
 
 it 
 
160 
 
 Jt came next to the turn of a young lady, to 
 entertain the company on the same subject, who 
 said she was not surprised at the adroitness of the 
 horse in opening the latch, because she had 
 heard of an instance of ingenuity in a cat, very 
 similar. u Some years ago,” continued she, 
 “ a family in Waterford were alarmed by an 
 outer door belonging to their house being fre- 
 quently opened without any visible cause. At 
 last, after many surmises, a cat was observed 
 approaching the door, and striving to push it 
 open ; but, on finding it shut, she leaped up, put 
 one paw on the handle of the latch, and with 
 the other bent down the trigger* till the latch was 
 raised; then she let herself down, and pushed 
 with her head against the door, till it was suf- 
 ficiently open to admit her. The family to 
 whom this cat belonged saw her repeat the same 
 feat several times*. “ Hunger, I suppose,” said 
 a gentleman, “ was the stimulus to her contriv- 
 ance. Goldfinches we often sec obliged to ob- 
 tain their drink by drawing up a little bucket, 
 and their seed by lifting up the lid of a box, 
 which, though more common, is equally curious. 
 A friend of mine,” continued lie, “ Mrs. Attersal, 
 of Crab Tree, near Fulham, had a pug-dog, 
 
 * Mr. Boswell, of Belfast, cau vouch for the truth of this 
 aueerfote. 
 
 which 
 
161 
 
 which learned to pull the bell whenever he want- 
 ed to be fed.” 1 remarked, that these actions, 
 so contrary to the habits of the animals in a 
 state of nature, ought to be attributed to the 
 power of acquiring new habits from instruction, 
 and associating with man in a domestic state, 
 rather than to instinct. u Your observation,” 
 replied the gentleman, “ reminds me of a pig, 
 which was brought up by the late Sir Henry 
 Mildmay’s gamekeeper, amongst the puppies, at 
 his seat in Hampshire, and, from imitation, learn- 
 ed to point; and afterwards assimilated his man- 
 ners so much to those of the dogs with whom he 
 had lived, that he became a destroyer of sheep. 
 And, as a further proof of the capacity of differ- 
 ent animals to receive new habits from education, 
 I remember a badger at Lord Belmour’s, which 
 also points, and accompanies his lordship on his 
 shooting expeditions. He is likewise useful in a 
 way more congenial to his nature: he fishes for 
 his master, and brings the salmon out of the 
 water, without offering to eat them.” 
 
 This entertaining conversation was concluded 
 by the relation of an affecting incident, that 
 happened some years ago, near Amboy, in the 
 Jerseys, in North America. A child was ac- 
 customed, when it got its breakfast, to go beside 
 the decaying trunk of a tree, in the cavity of 
 
 which 
 
162 
 
 ‘which lodged a Targe black snake. With this 
 reptile the child was observed to divide its 
 breakfast, giving the snake, generally, every 
 third or fourth spoonful of its pottage and milk. 
 The creature, harmless whilst unprovoked, rested 
 its head on its benefactor’s knee, looking in 
 her face, and seemingly counting the spoonfuls; 
 but when, by neglect, it did not receive its due 
 share, it then made so free as to attempt to help 
 itself: but for this impertinence it often got a 
 blow with the spoon, and a reprimand. The 
 friends of the child, conceiving that this ex- 
 traordinary friendship might have dangerous 
 consequences, should a quarrel ensue, prevailed 
 upon the child to entice the snake from its habit- 
 ation, when they killed it without pity ; and, by 
 the same blow might be said to destroy their 
 child, for when she saw the fate of her friend 
 and companion, she wept and lamented so 
 much, that it undermined her health, and 
 brought her to the grave. 
 
 Poor child ! her sensibility was great. Had 
 she lived to maturity, she would, in all proba- 
 bility, have made a most affectionate wife and 
 mother. Yet, who could blame her parents for 
 their apprehensions of the insidious disposition 
 of her favourite? Who could have divined 
 such an unfortunate result ? 
 
 My 
 
163 
 
 My time lias passed more agreeably than I 
 expected; but notwithstanding that, I am im- 
 patient to return to Woodlands, and my father 
 has consented to do so next week, when I shall 
 hope to find a letter from you. 
 
 Your affectionate 
 
 Emily. 
 
 
 LETTER 
 
16 i 
 
 LETTER XX. 
 
 FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 
 
 DEAR EMILY , 
 
 The manner of conferring a kindness, shows 
 the delicacy of the benefactor’s mind, more than 
 the kindness itself. Patru, a very learned French- 
 man, was driven, by poverty, to the mortifying 
 necessity of selling his library. JBoileau, the 
 celebrated poet, purchased it; and, under the 
 pretence that he had not room for it at that time, 
 in his own house, suffered it to remain in the 
 hands of the original possessor, as long as he 
 lived. There might, possibly, be many friends 
 who would have presented him with his books; 
 but how few would have done this generous 
 action, without seeking the credit of it, or laying 
 Patru under an obligation. In like manner, 
 Mrs. Saville and my dear Rachel lighten the 
 weight of my dependant situation, by frequent 
 declarations, that their happiness is increased by 
 my company. In return, I endeavour to render 
 myself useful; but my ignorance of domestic 
 affairs incapacitates me from those offices in 
 which Rachel excels. For her wise mother has 
 made a point to instruct her in every branch of 
 family economy. I am her scholar, and though 
 
 very 
 
very awkward in iny new business, I hope, 
 whenever we meet, to regale you with puddings 
 and preserves of my own making. It is one of 
 my dear aunt’s maxims, that nothing is trivial 
 or mean that is useful; and, that the comfort 
 and order of a family depend very much upon 
 an attention to trifles. No part of her household 
 escapes her observation ; and she is desirous that 
 I should acquire these domestic habits, which 
 are so different from my former mode of life, that 
 I should find them an unpleasant task, were it 
 not for the example and condescension of Rachel, 
 who not only instructs me, but also gives me her 
 assistance, and lightens my labours by the 
 pleasures of her conversation. 
 
 Mrs. Saville has just entered the house, with 
 something in her hand, and summons me down, 
 stairs. I obey her call, and will resume my 
 pen presently.- — — 
 
 An elm, near our house, was cut down some 
 time ago, and the sawyers have been this day 
 employed to divide it into planks. Upon cut- 
 ting it up, they discovered a hollow place, nearly 
 in the centre of the tree, containing a bird’s nest, 
 and several eggs, which the saw has unfortu- 
 nately broken It was this nest that Mrs. Saville 
 
 * This circumstance happened oq the estate of Mr. Parker 
 of Chelmsfprd, in the \ear 1807, 
 
 wanted 
 
' 106 
 
 Wanted to show me, How long it bad lain in 
 its recess cannot be known; but, as the yolks 
 of the eggs were not dried up, one would sup- 
 pose that it could not be a very long period. It 
 is difficult to account for the circumstance alto- 
 gether. That a bird should choose such an unfa- 
 vourable situation for her progeny, is contrary 
 to the usual sagacity of those creatures, whose 
 maternal solicitude is so striking; and, that any 
 part of an elm, a slow growing tree, should grow 
 so rapidly as to enclose nest and eggs, before they 
 were destroyed by moisture or insects, is surpris- 
 ing; especially as, from the cavity in which it 
 lay, to the surface of the tree, were four or five 
 inches of solid timber* The fact is certain, 
 though to me inexplicable: I relate it as it hap- 
 pened. Leaving it to your penetration to deve- 
 lope the mystery, I shall fill the remainder* of my 
 letter with the history of a pair of eagles, that 
 have taken their abode on the estate of Doctor 
 M^Donnel of Belfast*. This gentleman has a 
 farm at Fair Head ; (which is a very remarkable 
 promontory in the north of Ireland, terminated 
 by the greatest basaltic pillars, perhaps, in the 
 world;) these rocks rise perpendicularly from 
 the sea, about five hundred feet, and afford an 
 
 * This account was communicated by a friend of Dr. 
 M" Donnel's. 
 
 habitation 
 
167 
 
 habitation to a pair of eagles, which breed 
 annually in the inaccessible precipice; and their 
 nest has seldom, if ever, been disturbed by 
 man. At a certain time the young eagles dis- 
 appear, and leave only the two old ones, who 
 seem desirous of holding undivided empire. To 
 what region the young eagles emigrate, is not 
 known. If one of the old ones is shot, another 
 soon appears; so that a solitary bird is seldom 
 seen, and no one ever observed more than two old 
 ones. What seems singular is, that, although 
 . there is a considerable quantity of sheep breed- 
 ing and grazing on the plain below, and that 
 these eagles live on lambs, they never molest 
 them, but carry on their depredations in Rath** 
 lin, in liar tine, and the Highland islands. 
 Whether this arises from something noble in 
 the disposition of the bird, sparing or contemn- 
 ing what is immediately in its power, or from 
 the design of r serving the prey that lies so near 
 / its grasp, for some pressing emergency, must be 
 left to conjecture. 
 
 The late Marquis of Antrim obtained one of 
 these eagles, and confined it with a chain* 
 This bird was long domesticated, but was 
 often, from the carelessness of servants, fed on 
 putrid- meat, and sometimes so much neglected, 
 that he became very hungry. When regularly 
 fed, he ate freely, without being disturbed by 
 
 the 
 
168 
 
 the attention of the spectators; but, if he had 
 been long deprived of food, he would never 
 touch the most delicious morsel that was set be- 
 fore him, whilst any person was present. This 
 strange conduct was supposed to arise from an 
 apprehension of being deprived of the food of 
 which he stood in so great need; and, therefore, 
 lie always kept himself in a posture of defence 
 and vigilance, to guard it, when of such value, 
 but when it was of less importance, he gratified 
 his appetite without any precaution. From this 
 account it appears, that these birds possess a 
 degree of reflection, that enables them to adapt 
 their conduct to circumstances. 
 
 There seems a mixture of reason and instinct, 
 which differs widely from that pure instinct 
 that never deviates from its rule, and is chiefly 
 observed in the inferior orders of animals, such 
 as insects, reptiles, and zoophites. The ele- 
 phant, the horse, and the dog, are peculiarly 
 intelligent: instinct in them, on many occasions, 
 is subordinate to a mental capacity, approaching 
 to the reasoning powers of man. Could the 
 habits of all creatures be intimately known, it 
 might be easy to trace the gradations from rea- 
 son to pure instinct; but the fierce inhabitants 
 of the forest, and those that dwell in the depths 
 of the ocean, besides numerous tribes that are 
 driven, by fear, into the remotest solitudes, are 
 
 secluded 
 
169 
 
 secluded from that notice which is requisite to 
 ascertain the degrees of intelligence bestowed 
 upon them. But, from what is known, it ap- 
 pears, that the superior orders of quadrupeds, 
 and especially those that associate with man, are 
 the most sagacious. Birds also enjoy this privi- 
 lege very highly, when the protection of their 
 young is concerned. Mr. Galton, in his very 
 entertaining work on birds, remarks, that black- 
 birds generally build low, in bushes, or in trees 
 that are not very high ; and he mentions an in- 
 stance, of a bird of this species, after having 
 built its nest twice near the bottom of a hedge, 
 and both hatches of its young falling a prey to 
 cats, the third time she placed it in an apple 
 tree, eight feet from the ground. To what can 
 this be attributed, but to the effects of experience 
 and design? Mere instinct teaches finches that 
 build in green hedges, to cover their habitations 
 with green moss; the swallow, or martin, that 
 builds against rocks or houses, to cover hers 
 with clay ; and the lark, to collect vegetable 
 straw for the same purpose, as approaching to 
 the colour of stubble, amongst which she builds. 
 But should either of these birds change the colour 
 of the material of their nests, on account of a 
 different situation, I should attribute that al- 
 teration to a higher principle, by varying the 
 mode of compliance with the instincts of nature, 
 x 
 
 in 
 
170 
 
 in assimilating the colour of birds nest’s to the 
 situation in which they are generally placed; 
 but the deviation from the usual course, would 
 mark a choice, and therefore be superior to the 
 natural impulse that guides the parent bird to 
 build her nest after a peculiar manner.* 
 
 This subject has insensibly led me further 
 than I intended : it is time to come to a conclu- 
 sion, and bid you adieu. 
 
 Caroline. 
 
 LETTER 
 
171 
 
 LETTER XXI. 
 
 FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE, 
 
 DEAR CAROLINE , 
 
 One of my favourite amusements is riding 
 on horseback : I have a white poney that carries 
 me most agreeably, and is so tractable, that I 
 am not under the least apprehension when I am 
 upon him. As I have had him for these two 
 years, I am much attached to him; but I shall 
 love him better than ever, since I find that he is 
 capable of friendship; and, what is a still rarer 
 quality, does not shrink from defending his 
 friend, in the hour of danger. My horse is 
 grown extremely fond of a little dog, that lives 
 with him in the same stable, and whenever I 
 ride, the dog runs along by the side of my poney. 
 It happened yesterday, as the groom was lead- 
 ing the poney out for exercise, that they met 
 a much larger dog, who very violently at- 
 tacked the diminutive stranger; upon which 
 my horse rose on his hind legs, and, to the as- 
 tonishment of the groom, so effectually fought 
 his friend’s battle with his fore feet, that the a<r« 
 gressor scampered off in a cowardly manner, 
 1 2 without 
 
172 
 
 without any further attempt to renew the attack*. 
 I reflected on the circumstance^ as a very extra- 
 ordinary instance of deviation from the natural 
 instincts of a horse, and related what had hap- 
 pened, to a circle of friends who had come to 
 dinner. One gentleman paid more attention than 
 the rest, to my narrative, and allowed that, as a 
 voluntary act, it was a very unusual instance of 
 sagacity and affection ; but as a horse, in a state 
 of nature, probably fights with his fore feet, it 
 was rather a deviation from his domesticated 
 habits, than from his instincts. The friendship 
 of animals of different species, appears to me 
 very extraordinary, as they can have no natural 
 sympathy with each other; and I suppose that 
 it seldom takes place, except in a domesticated 
 state, in which many examples of it are to be 
 found, even when there is a natural antipathy 
 between them. I have read, somewhere, of a 
 peewit, that was kept tame in a garden, but vo- 
 luntarily took up its abode in the kitchen during 
 the winter : it associated with a dog and a cat, 
 in the chimney corner, and gradually became so 
 familiar, as to show marks of indignation, if 
 either of them interrupted him when he was 
 washing himself in a basin of water kept for the 
 dog to drink. 
 
 * The most Rev. Dr. Plunket, Roman Catholic Bishop 
 of Meath, was witness of (his fact. 
 
 Miss 
 
173 
 
 Miss Seward, of Lichfield, who wrote Memoirs 
 of Dr. Darwin, mentions a favourite cat that had 
 been broken of her propensity to kill birds, and 
 lived several years without molesting a dove, a 
 lark, and a redbreast, that were kept tame, and 
 used to fly about the room, where the cat was 
 daily admitted. The dove frequently sat on 
 pussey’s back ; and the little birds would peck, 
 fearlessly, from the same plate out of which she 
 was eating. 
 
 A gentleman at Belfast*, had a dog that was 
 remarkable for pursuing and destroying birds, 
 when abroad in the fields; but he overcame this 
 propensity so far as to allow a tame quail to run 
 through the house with him, lie before the par- 
 lour fire beside him, and when, from longer ac- 
 quaintance, he had become more familiar, he 
 suffered it to run over him, and seemed to look 
 at it with great complacency, as if pleased that 
 it trusted to his generosity. 
 
 Many creatures have carried this friendly dis- 
 position much further than mere association; 
 for I have heard of several instances of the young 
 of one race being nourished and protected by a 
 female of a different kind ; nay, even when the 
 strongest antipathy naturally subsisted between 
 them. Mr. White, of Selbourne, asserts, that a 
 
 * Mr. Templeton. 
 
 cat 
 
174 
 
 cat suckled a hare, which followed her about the 
 garden, and came jumping to her call of affection. 
 
 At Elford, near Litchfield, a hare big with 
 young was shot: the young were taken from 
 the mother alive, and the cat, who had just lost 
 her own kittens, carried them away, as was sup- 
 posed, to eat them; but it appeared afterwards, 
 that she was excited by a different motive, for 
 she suckled and adopted them as her own. 
 
 It happened that some humane person, near 
 Plaistow, seeing a puppy struggling in a pond, 
 drew it out half drowned; a cat, with truly ma- 
 ternal solicitude, licked, cleaned, warmed, suc- 
 kled, and recovered it*. 
 
 Polito, in his menagerie, used to show a lion’s 
 whelp, that had been brought up by a bitch, 
 who, though much inferior to it in size, acquired 
 authority over it. 
 
 Cats seem particularly disposed to adopt the 
 offspring of a stranger; but the most extraordi- 
 nary instance that I have heard, was related to 
 me by a lady t, who was an eye-witness of the 
 fact. Her cat had a litter of kittens, that were 
 kept in a hamper in the cellar. In order to please 
 her children, she one day went down to see them. 
 On looking into the hamper, she found a young- 
 rat amongst the kittens, which she ordered to be 
 
 * Related by William Darton. 
 i Mrs. Bell, of Putney Heath. 
 
 taken 
 
175 
 
 taken out. But the next day it was again 
 found, a quiet inhabitant of the same place ; and 
 there was no doubt that the cat suckled it, 
 and was disposed to bring it up with her own 
 family. 
 
 The Right Hon. George Ogle had a badger 
 suckled by a cat, which had nearly endangered 
 the life of its possessor; for he related the cir- 
 cumstance to Lord Muskerry, who showed marks 
 of unbelief, which Mr. Ogle thought necessary 
 to remove, or resent as an impeachment of his 
 veracity. He therefore sent his servant to Bel- 
 vue, in the county of Wexford, to fetch the 
 badger, and convey both cat and badger to 
 Lord Muskerry ’s house in Dublin. His lord- 
 ship immediately recollected the smile of con- 
 tempt with which he had listened to Mr. Ogle’s 
 recital, and entertained apprehensions of the 
 consequence; expecting that his next visitor 
 would be some friend of Mr. Ogle’s, to demand 
 an explanation of his behaviour. He wisely gave 
 a pleasant turn to the affair, by sending to the 
 fish-market for one of the finest turbo(s that 
 could be got, and regaling the badger with it; 
 he then returned the animal, with this message: 
 66 Give my thanks to your master, and tell him, 
 that his badger has feasted upon the best turbot 
 that could this day be purchased in Dublin.” 
 Mr. Ogle was well pleased with the welcome his 
 
 badger 
 
176 
 
 badger had received, joined in the laugh, and 
 the affair ended happily, which might otherwise 
 have had a serious termination. 
 
 In return for your entertaining account of the 
 eagles, I send you some particulars concerning 
 the eels found in the river Ban, in the same part 
 of Ireland, communicated to Mr. Craven, by a 
 a friend who resides in that kingdom. An amaz- 
 ing quantity of food is supplied to the people, 
 by the eels and the salmon of this river, which, 
 at different seasons of the year, constitute a large 
 share of the riches of the country around. The 
 bounty of Providence has so ordered it, that the 
 one migrates to the sea, when the other is pre- 
 pared to ascend the stream; so that the great 
 lake, and shallow rivers, are always replenished 
 with either the one or the other, as if they occu- 
 pied their station alternately, by agreement. 
 They assemble to migrate, exactly as birds do, 
 and seem to have the most exact intelligence of 
 the time, and the place of setting out, as well as 
 that to which they direct their course; always 
 returning, with the most unerring certainty, to 
 the same river from which they had emigrated. 
 The eel never attempts to descend until a flood 
 arises, which, besides disturbing the transpa- 
 rency of the water, assists in forwarding the 
 motion of the fish. They never proceed whilst 
 the moon or stars are bright; but choose a dark, 
 
 stormy 
 
177 
 
 stormy night for their journey. One or two 
 flashes of lightning will put a sudden stop to 
 their advancement, when, in other respects, they 
 are most completely arranged, and in a state of 
 preparation. Numbers of them often gather 
 themselves into a very curious ball, of great 
 magnitude, and rolling down the stream in this 
 order, break through the nets, and all other 
 obstacles which impede their progress. The 
 fishermen being aware of this stratagem, seek 
 for these balls, and after breaking them with 
 poles, catch the eels in their nets, with greater 
 facility. After the parent fish have escaped to 
 the sea, they do not return ; but the young eels 
 venture back, and show surprising instances of 
 sagacity, in finding the rivers, and pursuing 
 their track. 
 
 Your example, and that of the amiable Rachel, 
 have reconciled me to the retirement of the coun- 
 try. You have taught me to find amusement, 
 where, formerly, my inattention overlooked those 
 objects that now so greatly interest me. Natural 
 history, that I considered as the province of 
 philosophers only, I find, is suited to every 
 capacity; and it needs only to acquire the habit 
 of observation, to find a charm in every plant, 
 and throughout all the tribes of animated nature* 
 Not the minutest fly escapes me unnoticed 
 a frog, a spider, creatures that I once held in 
 1 5 abhorrence, 
 
178 
 
 abhorrence, now afford me entertainment, and 
 daily teach me the sublime lesson, That every 
 part of creation displays striking marks of the 
 wisdom and goodness of the Deity; who has 
 amply provided for the enjoyment, as well as the 
 preservation, of the meanest of his creatures. 
 
 The clock has struck eleven : I must retire to 
 rest, after wishing you a good night. 
 
 Emily, 
 
 LETTER 
 
179 
 
 LETTER XXII. 
 
 FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 
 
 MY DEAR EMILY, 
 
 Nature, indeed, opens a delightful book, 
 abounding with novelties at every page, to those 
 who will read in it. The ignorant, the stupid, 
 and the inattentive, equally overlook its beauties : 
 — those innumerable harmonies, that so loudly 
 proclaim the benevolent designs of Him who has 
 so largely provided for the enjoyments as well as 
 the mere existence of all creatures ; has adjusted 
 their form and organs to their instincts; and 
 fitted them exactly to fill up the situation in 
 the material world, in which he has placed 
 them. 
 
 St. Pierre has a passage, in his Studies of 
 Nature, so applicable to my subject, that I can- 
 not resist my inclination to quote it *. “ Nature 
 
 has adapted to plants, the smelling, the mouths, 
 the lips, the tongues, the jaws, the teeth, the beaks, 
 the stomachs, the chylifieation, and the secretions, 
 in a word, the appetites and instincts of animals. 
 Each one chooses that best adapted to its habits 
 and constitution. Thus, the goldfinch frequents 
 
 ♦Hunter’s Translation, vol. i. p. 57. 
 
 the 
 
180 
 
 the thistle, because he finds a rampart in its 
 prickly leaves, food in its seeds, and materials 
 for his nest in its down. The bird-fly of Florida, 
 for similar reasons, prefers the vignonia. This 
 is a creeping plant, which finds its way to the 
 tops of the highest trees, and frequently covers 
 the whole trunk. He builds his nest in one of 
 its leaves, which he rolls into the form of a 
 cornet: he finds his food in its red flowers, 
 resembling those of the foxglove, the nectareous 
 glands of which he licks : he plunges his little 
 body into them, which appears, in the heart of 
 the flower, like an emerald set in coral ; and he 
 gets in sometimes so far, that he suffers himself 
 to be surprised there and caught.” 
 
 The same author mentions other examples or 
 these beautiful coincidences : one, in particular, 
 occurs to my memory at this time. u The 
 rhinoceros, an inhabitant of the torrid zone, is 
 clothed with a hide rolled up in several folds. 
 This clumsy animal has the appearance of being 
 invested with a threefold mantle; but being 
 destined to live in the miry morasses of India, 
 where he grubs up, with his horny snout, the 
 long roots of the bamboo, he would have been 
 in danger of sinking, from his enormous weight, 
 had he not been endowed with the strange 
 faculty of extending, by blowing himself up, 
 the multiplied folds of his skin, and of rendering 
 
 himself 
 
181 
 
 himself lighter, in proportion to the space he 
 stands upon 
 
 The strong digestive powers of the dog’s sto- 
 mach, is another instance of the same harmonious 
 agreement. His appetite teaches him to swallow 
 bones, which, though not ground into powder 
 with his teeth, are presently softened and dis- 
 solved by the extraordinary power of the gastric 
 juice of his stomach. 
 
 The air-bladder peculiar to fishes, by the dila- 
 tion or contraction of which they rise or sink 
 at pleasure, enables them to live in an element 
 that would be destructive to most other animals, 
 but which is their destined habitation. Their 
 organs of sight and hearing differ from those of 
 other creatures, but are adapted, in a particular 
 manner, to that medium through which they are 
 obliged to see and hear. Their fins, as artfully 
 contrived for swimming as the wings of birds 
 for flying, display great variety of form, num- 
 ber, situation, and force, according to the habits 
 and wants of their owners. The size and shape 
 of the mouths of fishes w r ould, probably, go far 
 to ascertain the kind of prey they feed upon, as 
 there is no doubt but each is fitted exactly to its 
 purpose. That of the sturgeon is placed under 
 
 * Hunter’s Translation of St. Pierre’s Studies of Nature* 
 vol. i. p. 339. 
 
 the 
 
182 
 
 the head, without teeth, like the opening of a 
 purse, which he has the power of pushing sud- 
 denly out, or retracting, as he pleases. Before 
 this mouth, under the beak or nose, hang four 
 tendrils, some inches long, so strongly resembling 
 earth-worms, that his prey is deceived by them, 
 and approaching too near, he seizes and devours 
 it. The teredo, or ship-worm, feeds upon wood, 
 for which its calcareous jaws are admirably 
 adapted. They frequently aback the keels of 
 ships, and force their way so successfully into 
 them, as to endanger their safety. They bore 
 their passage in the direction of the fibres of the 
 wood, and cannot return or pass obliquely, con- 
 sequently, a knot is fatal to them. Between the 
 years 17 31 and 1732, these minute invaders 
 caused great alarm to the inhabitants of the 
 United Provinces, by their numbers, lest they 
 should materially injure the piles that support 
 the banks of Zealand. 
 
 Birds that feed on seeds and vegetables, re- 
 semble quadrupeds that eat grass, in the number 
 of their stomachs, the length and size of their 
 intestines, and the gentleness of their disposi- 
 tions: whilst those creatures that prey upon 
 others, whether birds or beasts, are armed with 
 offensive weapons; such as claws, talons, horns, 
 &c. : they are likewise endued with great 
 strength, and a ferocity of temper that is un- 
 social 
 
183 
 
 social and forbidding. The appetites and the 
 construction of the animal agree together, and 
 mark, in the most striking manner, the design of 
 an Intelligent Being, who has formed each spe- 
 cies to fill exactly that place in the universe, 
 where his wisdom has fixed it; and so necessary 
 is every order of creatures, even those we call 
 noxious, to the welfare of the whole, that, were 
 any kind annihilated by accidental circum- 
 stances, it would occasion a very injurious defi- 
 cency. This was experienced by the inhabitants 
 of a certain district in Germany, who were an- 
 noyed by a great number of sparrows, that ate 
 their corn. The indignant farmers, determined 
 to get rid of these voracious plunderers, offered a 
 reward for their destruction. The hope of the 
 prize put so many hands to work, that, in a 
 short time, the district was cleared of sparrows. 
 But observe the consequence : the next year they 
 were so overrun with caterpillars, that they were 
 obliged to procure sparrows to devour them. 
 Thus it appears that every link is requisite to 
 complete the chain ; that there is nothing super- 
 fluous, nothing deficient ; but that every part of 
 this wonderful system depends upon each other, 
 and is connected with the rest. 
 
 I am led to these reflections, by the sermon 
 Mr. Palmer preached last Sunday, on the good- 
 ness of God, displayed in the provision he has 
 
 made 
 
184 
 
 made for the happiness of all creatures, accord- 
 ing to their capacities, and the rank they hold 
 in creation ; rising from the insect, too minute 
 for our inspection, to man. For our perception 
 does not reach to the higher orders of created 
 beings, whose felicity, doubtless, exceeds our 
 comprehension, as much as their nature is supe- 
 rior to ours. The gift of life, with its appro- 
 priate enjoyments, is infinitely diffused. The 
 benevolent Creator has bestowed it upon the 
 innumerable creatures that inhabit our globe, 
 which, though it contains countless millions, is 
 but a minute speck in the universe; since astro- 
 nomy teaches us, that system upon system rolls 
 in boundless space, at distances that no imagi- 
 nation can comprehend. Nor can the disco- 
 veries of man extend to that point where there is 
 a cessation of new worlds. Every improvement 
 in our glasses discovers stars that have escaped 
 the former observations of the most acute astro- 
 nomers. Since all parts of our globe swarm with 
 animal life, the earth, the water, the air, each 
 abounding in its own peculiar inhabitants, can 
 we hesitate to believe, that the other worlds, that 
 are dispersed in the regions of unlimited space, 
 are likewise peopled with innumerable multi- 
 tudes of living creatures, all partaking of the 
 bounty of the Universal Father, rejoicing in 
 their beings and, by their existence, displaying \ 
 
 his 
 
185 
 
 his goodness? My heart swells with gratitude 
 at the idea ; and though it is a task far beyond 
 my powers, to point out the individual instances 
 that are daily before our eyes, yet I cannot resist 
 mentioning a few of those sources of enjoyment 
 that are bestowed upon ourselves, and which 
 every person, who is in the full possession of his 
 senses, is capable of appreciating. 
 
 The pleasures of sight delight us from our 
 earliest years; and the whole visible world seems 
 formed to gratify the eye. What beautiful 
 effects are produced by the combination of the 
 seven primary colours, displayed in the various 
 tribes of animals and vegetables that surround 
 us on all sides. From these seven colours pro- 
 ceed innumerable tints and shades, of exquisite 
 beauty, and infinite variety. For our gratifica- 
 tion in this p&rticular is consulted, not only by 
 the different hues of green, with which nature 
 distinguishes the classes of trees and plants, but 
 likewise by the variety of hues displayed on the 
 same individual plant: the leaves are of one 
 colour, whilst the stem, or the empalement, are 
 of another. In a similar manner, the parts of 
 the same animal are variously coloured. Birds 
 and insects excel in this respect; especially the 
 latter. The wings of a butterfly, or the corselet 
 rase-fiy, may probably exhibit the assem- 
 blage 
 
186 
 
 blage of twenty colours, blended with the skill 
 of an inimitable artist. 
 
 The gratification of every other sense is pro- 
 vided for in the same abundant manner. Fra- 
 grant odours for the smell, and flavours for the 
 taste. The vicissitudes of winter and summer, 
 spring and autumn, are a source of many plea- 
 sures, from the perpetual change that they occa- 
 sion. These are all chiefly corporeal pleasures, 
 and are enjoyed by man, in common with the 
 inferior orders of animals. Man is a being of a 
 mixed nature, and derives his principal satis- 
 faction from sources of a higher kind. The 
 delights peculiar to him are intellectual: the 
 pleasures of remembrance, the anticipations of 
 hope, the pursuits of the understanding, the 
 intercourse of friendship, the consolations of 
 sympathy, the union of satisfaction with the ex- 
 ercise of virtue, especially the social and bene- 
 volent virtues; and, above all, the inexpressible 
 recompence of a good conscience. These are 
 the enjoyments bestowed upon us, with many 
 others, by our beneficent Creator, in our present 
 imperfect state of existence, which is only a pas- 
 sage to a more complete state of felicity. If we 
 contemplate our being, and that of creatures 
 below us, in this point of view, the goodness of 
 the great Creator, in the diffusion of happiness, 
 
 is 
 
J87 
 
 is most striking, and calls for the unfeigned 
 praise and gratitude of all rational beings. 
 
 I have insensibly got into a very grave, but I 
 hope not unwelcome strain, from the impression 
 of Mr. Palmer’s eloquence, which, had you been 
 present, would have charmed you. 
 
 My letter is protracted to a great length : I 
 leave you to fill up my deficiencies upon the 
 unlimited subject of God’s goodness to his crea- 
 tures, and wish you good night. 
 
 Caroline. 
 
 LETTER 
 
188 
 
 LETTER XXIII. 
 
 FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 
 
 DEAR CAROLINE , 
 
 I was so far from thinking your last letter 
 too serious, that, I can assure you, it rather 
 increased my usual cheerfulness, by the con- 
 sideration that the whole universe is under the 
 direction of a Being infinitely wise and good. 
 Amongst the multitudes of proofs of his pro- 
 vision for the happiness of man in particular, 
 may be reckoned the superior instinct, or rather 
 sagacity, of some animals, especially dogs, which 
 frequently renders them extremely valuable, and 
 puts them on a level with humble friends. I 
 have lately heard two or three stories that do 
 honour to the canine race; and though they are 
 unconnected with each other, I think they will 
 gratify your taste for such anecdotes, and shall 
 therefore make no further apology for relating 
 them. 
 
 A little boy, about two years old, the son of a 
 cottager, was accustomed to go with his parents 
 when they went to work. One day, when their 
 attention was engaged, he strayed to a rocky 
 cliff at no great distance, where, it is supposed, 
 that, being wearied by his endeavours to dis- 
 entangle 
 
189 
 
 entangle himself from the rocks and briers, he fell 
 asleep, and by that means was overlooked by his 
 parents, who, as soon as they missed him, made 
 diligent search for him, wherever they thought 
 there was a probability of finding him; but all 
 their efforts were fruitless. They had nearly 
 given up the hope of recovering their lost little 
 one, and were on the point of yielding to the 
 terrible necessity of losing him forever, without 
 knowing his fate, when the dog belonging to the 
 cottage was observed to go out with his food 
 in his mouth; and this unusual act he repeated 
 so often, as to raise a suspicion that he had 
 some extrabrdinary motive for doing so. Curi- 
 osity, and a faint hope that he had discovered 
 what they had so ineffectually sought, deter- 
 mined them to follow him; when, to their inex- 
 pressible joy, by tracing his steps, they were led 
 to their child ; and, by the time they had got 
 up to him, the dog was found giving the food to 
 the boy, whom he had sustained in this manner 
 for several days *. The attachment, the fidelity, 
 and the sagacity of this animal, are beyond all 
 praise. 
 
 The courage of dogs is sometimes surprising. 
 Captain Beaufort, of His Majesty’s ship Blisson, 
 
 * This circumstance happened in Ireland. A story very 
 similar is related in The Family Tour , which occurred to a 
 shepherd in Scotland. 
 
 relates 
 
m 
 
 relates an extraordinary instance of that quality, 
 in a dog which was named after the vessel. 
 “ It happened,” says he, u that a huge whale 
 reared his unwieldy back out of the water, near 
 the ship. Blisson barked : the whale, unused to 
 such an attack, flapped the sea with his mon- 
 strous tail. Blisson was in an agony of ardour 
 to be at him. The whale put his nostril to the 
 water’s edge, and snorted a river into the air. 
 Blisson could stand that no longer, but jumped 
 into the sea from our quarter-deck, and chased 
 him. Calling and roaring were of no use. For- 
 tunately, the whale thought proper to dive, or 
 my Blisson would have fared worse than Jonah.” 
 Mr. Capel Lofi’f, of Traston Hall, in Suffolk, 
 had a dog that showed a most affectionate and 
 tractable disposition. This dog was of that 
 kind called by Bewick the elegant terrier. The 
 poor animal had by some chance met with a 
 severe injury, and, in the agony it suffered, took 
 refuge in Mr. Lofft’s court-yard. He was from 
 home, and, from the spasms that affected the 
 dog, the family apprehended he was mad. On 
 Mr. LoftVs return, he discovered that the hurt 
 was in the under jaw, and it was two years 
 before it got well. Gratitude for kindness, at a 
 moment when it was so much wanted, seemed 
 to produce the most tender attachment in this 
 dog. Mr. Lofft gained an extraordinary influ- 
 ence 
 
19J 
 
 ence over him, anti broke him of his propensity 
 to seize rabbits, and worry cats, merely by the 
 displeasure marked on his countenance, without 
 beating him. When he was most incensed 
 against an unfortunate cat that happened to fall 
 in his way, his master would snatch him up in 
 his arms, and quiet him in an instant. Time 
 rendered his attachment so strong, that it seemed 
 as if no provocation could induce him to bite 
 Mr. Lofft or the children. A dispute having, 
 on some occasion, arisen between this gentleman 
 undone of his little boys, after proper expostula- 
 tion he was attempting to put the child out of 
 the room, who made resistance. The dog, seeing 
 the bustle, supposed his master Avas going to 
 beat the boy, and tried to pull him away by the 
 skirts of his coat, which pleasing action gave 
 such a turn to the contest, as to reconcile the 
 father and son. 
 
 The sensibility of this animal was also shown 
 by his great fondness for music. He would sit, 
 for hours, on a chair by the piano, listening to 
 the soft strains of Clementi’s or Pleyel’s sonatas. 
 And Mr. Lofft adds, that he has frequently seen 
 him beat time with his tail, whilst some favourite 
 airs were playing. 
 
 Men and dogs are not the only animals influ- 
 enced by musical sounds. The horses at the 
 equestrian theatres, which move in measured 
 
 steps, 
 
192 
 
 steps, are all taught by music. And extra- 
 ordinary stories have been related of the attention 
 of spiders to music, though they have not fallen 
 under the observation of any person with whom 
 I am acquainted. 
 
 My next example of canine virtue, if the 
 expression may be allowed, is an historical 
 record, and may have reached you before: if it 
 has not, it will give you pleasure to see how 
 far the animal feelings can approach to the 
 moral virtue peculiar to rational and responsible 
 beings; and what a union of the most affection- 
 ate and the most hostile qualities, can exist in 
 the same creature, both springing from a noble, 
 generous disposition. “ The fame of an English 
 dog has been deservedly transmitted to posterity, 
 by a monument in basso-relievo , which still 
 remains on the chimney-piece of the grand hall 
 at the castle of Montarjis, in France. The 
 sculpture, which represents a dog fighting witli 
 a champion, is explained by the following nar- 
 rative. Aubri de Mondidier, a gentleman of 
 family and fortune, travelling alone through the 
 forest of Boudi, was murdered, and buried under 
 a tree. His dog, an English bloodhound, would 
 not quit his master’s grave for several days, till at 
 length, compelled by hunger, he proceeded to 
 the house of an intimate friend of his unfortunate 
 master’s, at Paris, and, by his melancholy howl- 
 ing? 
 
tng, seemed desirous of expressing the loss they 
 had both sustained, lie repeated his cries, ran 
 to the door, looked back to see if any one fol- 
 lowed him, returned to his master’s friend, pulled 
 him by the sleeve, and, with dumb eloquence, 
 entreated him to go with him. The singularity 
 of the dog’s behaviour, added to the circum- 
 stance of his coming there without his master, 
 whose faithful companion he had always been, 
 prompted the company to follow the animal, 
 who conducted them to a tree, where lie renewed 
 his howl, scratching the earth with his feet, sig- 
 nificantly entreating them to search that par- 
 ticular spot. Accordingly, on digging, the 
 body of the unhappy Aubri was found. Some 
 time after, the dog accidentally met the assassin, 
 who is styled, by all the historians who relate 
 this fact, the Chevalier Macairi, when, instantly 
 seizing him by the throat, he was, with great 
 difficulty, compelled to quit his prey. In short, 
 whenever the dog saw the Chevalier, he con- 
 tinued to attack and pursue him with equal 
 fury. Such obstinate virulence in the animal, 
 confined to Macairi alone, appeared very extra- 
 ordinary, especially to those who at once recol- 
 lected the dog’s remarkable attachment to his 
 master, and several instances in which Macairi’s 
 envy and hatred to Mondidier had been conspi- 
 cuous. Additional circumstances increased sus- 
 k picion, 
 
194 
 
 picion, and at length the affair reached the royal 
 ear. The king (Louis the Eighth) accordingly 
 sent for the dog, who appeared extremely gentle 
 till he perceived Macairi in the midst of several 
 noblemen, when he ran fiercely towards him, 
 growling and attacking him as usual. 
 
 u In those rude times, when no positive proof 
 of a crime appeared, an order was issued for a 
 combat between the accuser and the accused. 
 These encounters were denominated the judg- 
 ment of God, from a persuasion that Heaven 
 would rather work a miracle than suffer inno- 
 cence to perish with infamy. The king, struck 
 with such an accumulation of circumstantial 
 evidence against Macairi, determined to refer the 
 decision to the chance of battle. In other 
 words, he gave orders for a combat between the 
 chevalier and the dog. The lists were appoint- 
 ed in the Isle of Notre Dame, then an uninclosed, 
 uninhabited place. Macairi’s weapon being a 
 great cudgel, the dog had an empty cask 
 allowed for his retreat, to enable him to recover 
 breath. Every thing being prepared, the dog 
 no sooner found himself at liberty than he ran 
 round his adversary, avoiding his blows, and 
 menacing him on every side till his strength was 
 exhausted; then springing forward, he griped 
 him by the throat, threw him on the ground, 
 and obliged him to confess his guilt, in the 
 
 presence 
 
195 
 
 presence of tlie king and the whole court. In 
 consequence of which, after a few days the 
 Chevalier was convicted, upon his own acknow- 
 ledgment, and beheaded on a scatfold in the Isle 
 of Notre Dame. This curious narrative is trans- 
 lated from the Memoires sur les Duels ; and is 
 confirmed by many judicious critical writers, 
 particularly Julius Scaliger, and Montfou^on, 
 neither of whom have been regarded as fabri- 
 cators of idle stories.*’ 
 
 The fate of the Chevalier affords not only a 
 striking example of sagacity, nearly approach- 
 ing to reason, in a dog; but also teaches the 
 impressive lesson, that the conscious guilt of a 
 murderer, disarms (lie boldest villain from de- 
 fending himself; and that this horrid crime, 
 however privately committed or artfully con- 
 cealed, seldom fails of discovery, and often by 
 means the least likely to produce such an eflecL 
 
 Your faithful friend, 
 
 k. 2 
 
 LETT Ell 
 
196 
 
 LETTER XXIV. 
 
 FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 
 
 MY DEAR EMILY , 
 
 That I may make some return for the 
 amusement your canine anecdotes have afforded 
 me, I will relate the feats of a simple dog or two, 
 of low degree, when compared with your heroic 
 avenger of his master’s wrongs. 
 
 A gentleman, with whom my aunt was for- 
 merly acquainted, occupied a farm in a remote 
 district of Scotland, and had a dog of the genu- 
 ine colly, or shepherd’s breed, named Gashkan, 
 which signifies a hero , or, my hero: this dog 
 attached himself to one of the servants employed 
 in the farm, who, being married, was boarded 
 out of the house; but times growing hard, and 
 his master indulgent, William and Gashkan 
 often got a good dinner in the farm-house kitch- 
 en ; the former by invitation, the latter by per- 
 mission. Thus, dinner being ready became a 
 matter of consequence to Gashkan, and such 
 was his observation, that he soon learnt to dis- 
 tinguish the signals of preparation. When it 
 was near the time of summoning the servants 
 together, a large pot of broth was set down on 
 the heart h, and » long trivet table, usually raised 
 
 up 
 
197 
 
 up to the wall to make room, was let down; 
 then the dairy-maid gave a loud call at the 
 door, which was answered by the servants from 
 the fields, and whilst they were on their way, 
 she made every thing ready for their reception. 
 
 The men knew, by the shadows on the moun- 
 tains, when the time drew near, and if one 
 of them grew impatient, he would say, u Go, 
 Gashkan, see if dinner be ready.” Gashkan set 
 off instantly. If, on looking in at the door, he 
 saw the pot on the hearth, and the table let down, 
 he ran back with great alacrity, licked his lips, 
 wagged his tail, and frisked about his master; 
 but if he saw no preparation in the kitchen, he 
 went slowly back, with his tail and ears droop- 
 ing ; and when asked if dinner was ready, slunk 
 sheepishly behind his master. All this the ser- 
 vants understood, as well as if he had delivered 
 a message*. 
 
 Mrs. Palmer’s eldest sister is settled in America 
 she has been married several years to a gentleman 
 who cultivates a large tract of land in a remote 
 situation. This mode of life gives her an oppor- 
 tunity of observing the manners of animals in a 
 onrl eln/i ic n natural ist- and knows 
 Mr. Palmer’s taste, she does not fail to enrich 
 
 * Mrs. Grant, author of “ Letters from the Mountains,” 
 u The American Lady,” &c. has obligingly furnished me with 
 this, and several other curious anecdotes. 
 
 her 
 
198 
 
 her letters with much information that is novel 
 and interesting. In her last, she gives the his- 
 tory and character of a favourite dog of a mixed 
 breed, whose parents might have been supposed 
 to be a Newfoundland and a colly, had any of 
 the latter kind been in America. “ This dog*,” 
 says Mrs. Mackenzie, u possessed the most ami- 
 able disposition, and was always on the watch to 
 please, which made her a general favourite. — 
 Thus she lived, caressing and caressed. She 
 was very useful in driving cattle off the bounds, 
 and every other kind of service that such animals 
 are accustomed to be employed in, about a farm. 
 The man-servant who lived with Mr. Mackenzie 
 at this time, was of a rough, tyrannical temper, 
 and often treated this tine creature very harshly; 
 sending her to great distances, to save his own 
 trouble, and beating her most severely for every 
 mistake. Iler patience and attachment, notwith- 
 standing this behaviour, were astonishing. 
 
 “ After some time she had puppies, of which 
 oho was fond beyond expression. The servant 
 being allowed to drown some of the puppies, 
 pretended to understand the permission in a 
 
 general sense, and destroyed them all. It is sup- 
 posed, that his motive for this conduct was to 
 
 prevent her from being detained from following 
 
 * I was supplied with this account hy Mrs. Grant. 
 
 and 
 
and assisting him. In order to make you ac- 
 quainted with the detail of her business, it must 
 be premised, that the small extent of cultivated 
 ground on Mr. Mackenzie’s farm, was surrounded 
 by a slight fence of wattled touch-wood, which 
 was easily injured. Therefore, the first task in 
 the morning, and the last at night, was to drive 
 the wild cattle and horses from the vicinity, to 
 a great distance in the woods, lest they should 
 break these frail enclosures. Dugald, knowing 
 the docility of his companion, trusted to her ex- 
 ertions for the performance of this duty, without 
 stirring himself from the bounds. When she 
 had driven them away, she would return, and 
 look meekly in his face for approbation; but 
 his usual reward was threats, frowns, and vocife- 
 rations; upon which she would immediately set 
 out again, and scour the woods, without stopping, 
 till she had driven the objects of her pursuit to 
 an incredible distance. On returning a second 
 time, breathless and exhausted, she would fawn 
 on her tyrant before she lay down to rest, and 
 look up to him, with speaking eyes, for a to- 
 ken of approbation, which, if obtained, trans- 
 ported her with joy. Yet this gentle creature, 
 so docile, patient of injury, and grateful for 
 kindness, would, in defence of her master, and in 
 obedience to his commands, attack the largest 
 animal with courageous alacrity, and seemed 
 
 insensible 
 
200 
 
 insensible of fear, when any duty was to be per- 
 formed. Miss Mackenzie, who was, at this time, 
 about eleven years old, had several favourite ani- 
 mals, on whom she bestowed much attention ; 
 amongst these, Zara and a cat held the first 
 place, of whom you shall hear more in the sequel. 
 For some days after Zara missed her puppies, 
 she went about moaning piteously, and seemed 
 inconsolable. Her young mistress observed, with 
 great concern, that, in addition to her maternal 
 sorrows, this poor dog suffered much from the 
 distension of her teats, which it was not easy to 
 relieve ; but being very fond of her, she contrived 
 to press out the milk with her fingers. The 
 grateful dog testified her thanks for this service, 
 by signs and gestures that made speech unneces- 
 sary. Zara had chosen a retreat for depositing 
 her offspring, that, no doubt, appeared to her 
 secure from invaders. A large house, near her 
 master’s, had been burnt down: the sunk story 
 remained full of rubbish; and there, in the oven 
 which had belonged to the ruined kitchen, Zara’s 
 puppies were lodged. 
 
 The cat, who was a great favourite also till 
 she became a mother, when the new duties she 
 had to fulfil made Miss Mackenzie more atten- 
 tive to her propensities, had kittens much about 
 the same time. The young lady then perceived 
 a degree of levity and cruelty in her cat, that 
 
 had 
 
201 
 
 had before escaped her observation. She neg- 
 lected her usual occupation of mouse-catching 
 in the cellar, and lay on the top of the house, 
 watching for bats, all the evening* Not con- 
 tented with this equivocal game, the bee-catch- 
 er, the gentle wren, and even the sacred swal- 
 low, were taken and devoured, in the presence 
 of her tender-hearted mistress, who tried every 
 means to correct her voracious disposition. 
 She confined her, she crammed her, and beat 
 her with a dead bird, but still these atrocities 
 were repeated. The appearance of the young 
 family delighted Miss Mackenzie: she now de- 
 termined to feed her well, and hoped she would 
 assume a more domestic character, and live once 
 more on milk and mice. Every preparation for 
 the comfort of the little strangers was antici- 
 pated, and an excellent bed was made ready in 
 the garret ; but the cat, suspicious of the offici- 
 ous visits of her mistress, carried her young ones 
 to a high projection near the roof, that had been 
 intended for a pigeon-house. After having con- 
 veyed them out of the reach of Miss Mackenzie’s 
 kind offices, she would frequently abandon them 
 for a whole day, climbing the tops of high trees 
 in pursuit of wild game; whilst the cries of the 
 little ones distressed her young mistress, as she 
 was unable to afford them any assistance. The 
 only means she had of diverting her chagrin, 
 was in administering relief to poor Zara : but 
 
 k 5 this 
 
 f 
 
202 
 
 tliis amusement soon failed, for Zara disappeared, 
 except when her services were required. The 
 servants complained of strange noises in the gar- 
 rets of a night, and the cat totally deserted her 
 post. In this state of affairs, Miss Mackenzie 
 frequently listened to the plaintive cries of the 
 neglected little ones; but all was silent, and she 
 was tormented with the idea that they had pe- 
 rished with hunger, aggravated by self-reproach, 
 for not having borrowed a ladder for their de- 
 liverance. Two days afterwards, she saw Zara 
 coming out of the oven, as happy as possible, 
 and observed that she did not come, as usual, to 
 be reiieved of her milk : the same thing happened 
 several times, and, at length, curiosity induced 
 Miss Mackenzie, with much difficulty, to descend 
 to her retreat. She found her stretched at length 
 in the great oven, and the five kittens sucking 
 her with all their might; for her teats were so 
 large, that they w r ere obliged to stretch their 
 mouths to the utmost, to effect their purpose. 
 She brought up the whole litter; but whether 
 their disposition was influenced by the nourish- 
 ment of a foster-mother, is not mentioned.” 
 
 Was it compassion, or the strong impulse of 
 maternal tenderness, seeking an object to satisfy 
 it, that overcame the instinctive aversion sub- 
 sisting between dogs and cats. It is also difficult 
 to discover by what means Zara knew that the 
 kittens were lodged in a place to which she was 
 
 supposed 
 
203 
 
 supposed a total stranger; or, that they were 
 abandoned by their mother; and lastly, how 
 such a large, heavy animal, could mount to so 
 great a height, and convey the helpless creatures 
 down. I can find no solutions to these enigmas : 
 but such was the fact. Your ingenuity may 
 probably account for them. I leave them to 
 your consideration, and shall conclude this letter 
 with one more short anecdote. 
 
 A lady who resided in Waterford, was in the 
 constant habit of sending all her servants to a 
 place of public worship, in the afternoon of a 
 Sunday. Orders were given, that the kitchen 
 fire should be made up, and the boiler put on, 
 to heat water for tea. One Sunday afternoon, 
 as the family were sitting in the parlour, a little 
 terrier, that belonged to the youngest daughter, 
 came into the room, barking in an unusual man- 
 ner, addressing herself, with dumb eloquence, 
 to the mistress of the house, with whom she was 
 seldom familiar. This drew general attention, 
 and excited a degree of alarm : the lady’s curi- 
 osity being excited, she rose, and followed Fidele, 
 who conducted her to the kitchen, where she 
 found the boiler overturned, and the water 
 streaming about the floor. 
 
 I am, with sincere attachment, your 
 
 Caroline. 
 
 LETTER 
 
204 
 
 LETTER XXV. 
 
 FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 
 
 DEAREST OAROLINE , 
 
 Youn story of Zara’s adopting the kittens, 
 so well authenticated, and so extraordinary, pre- 
 pares my mind for any instances of adoption, 
 that may be related by persons of credit. The 
 power of finding their way back from vast dis- 
 tances, to a place to which they have been ac- 
 customed, which is possessed by various kinds of 
 creatures, is a wonderful faculty, and, in many 
 cases, seems unaccountable; nor do I think that 
 the penetration of man can discover by what 
 sense they are guided. Cats seem to excel in 
 this unknown quality, though it is bestowed, in 
 different degrees, on many other creatures. 
 
 Mr. Craven has a cat* that he calls the tra- 
 veller. It belonged to his brother, who lived at 
 Old Brompton, near London. A friend of this 
 gentleman’s, who was then going as master of a 
 vessel to the West Indies, took a liking to this 
 cat. She was given to him as a token of remem- 
 brance, and was carried from Old Brompton, 
 
 * The owner of this cat was Mr. R, Whitley, who lived 
 at Old Brompton, near London. 
 
 through 
 
205 
 
 through London, put on board the ship, had 
 performed the voyage, and returned to the wharf 
 whence she set out. In all this long peregrina- 
 tion, she did not forget the home that had nou- 
 rished her, nor the haunts to which she was at- 
 tached. She took the earliest opportunity of 
 making her escape, and finding her way through 
 the intricate turnings and windings of the metro- 
 polis, arrived safe at her former residence, to the 
 great surprise of all the family. 
 
 Had you or I been hastily carried, for the first 
 time, through London, we could not have traced 
 back our course, even the next day; whilst this 
 cat must have remembered every turning, at the 
 distant period of many months. 
 
 Mr. Craven relates another incident*, very 
 similar to this. He knew a female cat belong- 
 ing to Mrs. Farquarson, which was removed 
 from Sampford Hall, near Saffron Walden in 
 Essex, to Yosely Bridge in Hampshire, and, im- 
 pelled by that invincible attachment to places, 
 which is one of the characteristics of the cat 
 kind, returned, as is supposed, through London, 
 to the protection of her kind benefactress at 
 Sampford Hall. 
 
 These feats are so far beyond any sagacity that 
 I possess, that I am quite impatient to have my 
 
 * On the authority of Mr. Arthur Young. 
 
 curiosity 
 
206 
 
 curiosity resolved upon the subject. Pray tell 
 Mr. Palmer he is my oracle in natural history, 
 and that I request he will explain in what this 
 strange faculty consists. 
 
 In imitation of your example, I spend some 
 time every morning in the poultry-yard, which 
 my indulgent father has fitted up in a very com- 
 plete style, and peopled it with a great variety of 
 domestic fowl, to gratify my taste. Amongst 
 others, I have several wild-fowl that are grown 
 tame: to these I pay particular attention, as I 
 suppose their natural habits less changed than 
 those which have been domesticated for many ge- 
 nerations. The same diversity of disposition 
 seems to prevail amongst the inferior classes of 
 animals, as amongst men. Some of the same 
 kind are gentle and timid, whilst others possess 
 a great portion of courage : and I have observed, 
 that there is a kind of common language between 
 the different species of these wild-fowl; for the 
 cry expressive of danger is communicated from 
 one to another, and understood by all. I have 
 a favourite widgeon, so tame that it follows 
 me all over the yard: as I was scattering the 
 corn this morning, a hawk hovered in sight, 
 upon which a common hen gave the scream of 
 terror, and the widgeon perfectly comprehending 
 that an enemy was at hand, fled to me for pro- 
 tection, 
 
207 
 
 tection, and remained crouched close to my feet, 
 till all apprehension of danger was past*. 
 
 One of my hens has surprised me very much, 
 as she appears to have acted more from experi- 
 ence than instinct. Before I was aware of her 
 design, the dairy-maid had set heron a clutch 
 of duck-eggs: when they were hatched, she 
 showed the usual anxiety at their going into the 
 water, and made a very attentive, good mother. 
 Her next brood was chickens, which, I suppose, 
 from recollection of the success of her former 
 charge, she immediately led to the water: in 
 consequence of this mistake, they were drownedt. 
 
 During a few days’ stay in London, I went to 
 see the entertainment of the Blood Red Knight, 
 at Astley’s Riding Theatre, in which a horse is 
 introduced, that mimicks death so completely, 
 that he suffers himself to be handled and examin- 
 ed, without showing the least voluntary motion, 
 or any symptoms of life or feeling. The docility 
 of this creature, and the skill of his teachers, are 
 truly astonishing; but not more so than that of 
 some elephants, belonging to Rayobah, an Asiatic 
 chief, once in alliance with the English:];. 
 
 * Relatedby Mr. Templeton. 
 
 + Mrs. Smith, of Parndon, 
 
 J Communicated by James Forbes Esq. to whom I owe 
 many obligations, for miscellaneous observations scattered 
 in this work. 
 
 The 
 
208 
 
 The elephants form a necessary and important 
 appendage to a Mahratta camp, and are attend- 
 ed with the greatest care, and fed on the choicest 
 food, even in times of scarcity, particularly when 
 on hard service. Besides their vegetable diet, 
 they are fed with rich balls, called massaulla , 
 composed of spices, sugar, butter, and other ex- 
 pensive ingredients, especially in a camp, where 
 every thing was extravagantly dear. This rich 
 food was necessary both for the elephants and 
 choice Arab horses, in a country every where 
 laid waste and destroyed by the enemy, and 
 affording but little provender. A scarcity of 
 food, therefore, for man and beast, is no un- 
 common circumstance in warlike expeditions in 
 India. But, however others might suffer from 
 want of daily sustenance, there was an ample 
 allowance for the favourite elephants of the 
 Mahratta sovereign ; yet they pined away, and 
 grew emaciated, without any apparent cause. 
 At length the keepers were suspected of defraud- 
 ing them of their massaulla ; as the delicacies in 
 these balls composed likewise the most expensive 
 and savoury parts of the pilaus, curries, and 
 other dishes eaten by the Moguls, and too costly 
 for persons in their situation to purchase. The 
 Master of the Elephants, who, like the Master of 
 the Horse in Europe, is generally a man of rank, 
 then appointed inspectors to see them fed, and 
 
 the 
 
209 
 
 the elephants regained their strength, and, fora 
 time, appeared in good condition. But in a few 
 months they fell off again, to the great astonish- 
 ment of the inspectors, who daily saw them fed, 
 frequently examined the massaulla, and found 
 the ingredients of the best quality. At length 
 the cheat was discovered, and shows the extra- 
 ordinary influence the keepers had obtained over 
 these docile animals. They taught them, in the 
 inspectors’ presence, to receive the balls, and to 
 put them into their mouths with their trunk, but 
 to abstain from eating them : and these tractable 
 creatures actually had that command over them- 
 selves, that they received this food, of which 
 they are so remarkably fond, and placed it in 
 their mouths, but never chewed it; and the balls 
 remained untouched, until the inspectors with- 
 drew; they then took them out carefully with 
 their trunks, and presented them to the keepers, 
 accepting such a share only as they were pleased 
 to allow them. 
 
 This story was related to me by that cousin of 
 Lord Ormond’s, who lately returned from the 
 East Indies, where he has resided many years. 
 His name is Hervey : he is a man of an agree- 
 able person, engaging manners, and great ob- 
 servation. From him I have collected several 
 anecdotes of animal biography, that will enter- 
 tain you when I have leisure to repeat them. 
 He is a frequent visitor at Bel voir Lodge, and I 
 
 am 
 
210 
 
 am mistaken, if, in spite of Charlotte’s ambition, 
 he has not made an impression on her heart that 
 it will be difficult for her to efface. It will be a 
 happy circumstance if this attachment has a 
 beneficial influence in correcting her faults, and 
 improving her character. It is a favourable 
 symptom', that she listens patiently to his friendly 
 hints, though she is indignant towards any body 
 else who takes the liberty of pointing out her 
 faults. 
 
 Mr. Hervey had an elephant* of which he 
 was very fond ; it had carried him many a long 
 march, and had attached him to it by the sweet- 
 ness of its disposition. If he wished to enjoy a 
 prospect, he had only to speak, and the elephant 
 remained immoveable till he gave it the signal to 
 proceed. If he had a desire for the ripe man- 
 goes, that grew on the upper branches, it ad- 
 vanced to that part of the tree, and, breaking 
 off‘ the most fruitful bough with his trunk, he 
 offered it to the driver, for the company in his 
 houdali; and if he received any part for his 
 trouble, he accepted it with a profound respect, 
 making a salcin , or obeisance, three times, w ith 
 his trunk raised to the top of his head, in the 
 manner of the oriental salute; and as often did 
 he articulate his thanks by a murmuring noise, 
 
 * Mr. Forbes’ account of his own elephant. 
 
 bis 
 
211 
 
 Lis mode of expressing his gratitude. When a 
 branch seemed likely to intercept the houdah, 
 he twisted his trunk around it, and, although 
 several feet in circumference, he broke it off with 
 ease. This gentle animal was accustomed to 
 visit his master at the tent-door during breakfast, 
 to be treated with a little sugar- candy from his 
 tea-cup; and no spaniel can be more innocently 
 playful, or fonder of those who take notice of 
 him, than this docile animal was. 
 
 These creatures are highly valued in the 
 oriental part of the world, both as appendages 
 to royal pomp, and for their many useful qua- 
 lities in peace and war. In a camp they only 
 carry the thrones and .castles of the sovereign, 
 and his principal officers; and are sometimes 
 kept in rich caparisons, merely for parade. 
 They are a common present among the Asiatic 
 princes and generals of high rank. When 
 properly disciplined, they know their duly, and 
 are as obedient to the word of command, as a 
 rational being. On emergencies, they can travel 
 two hundred miles in forty-eight hours; and 
 will hold out for a considerable time at forty 
 Julies a clay. Some of the largest of them are 
 from eleven to twelve feet high. They are 
 mostly of a dark grey colour, nearly black ; but 
 the face is generally painted with a variety of 
 tints: and the tails and legs of the favourite 
 
 horses 
 
212 
 
 horses belonging to the wealthy Indians, are 
 dyed of a crimson or orange colour. The ele- 
 phant bred to war will stand firm against a 
 shower of musket balls, and will never give way 
 unless mortally wounded. Mr. Hervey has seen 
 an elephant* with upwards of thirty bullets 
 lodged in the fleshy part of his body, but per- 
 fectly recovered from the wounds. All are not 
 equally docile. When an enraged elephant 
 turns round to retreat, nothing can withstand its 
 fury: the driver has no longer a command, and 
 friends and foes are involved in undistinguished 
 ruin. 
 
 Such is Mr. Hervey’s account of this noble 
 animal, which, coming from an eye-witness, 1 
 thought would be particularly acceptable to you 
 and your Cambrian friends, to whom I desire 
 my regards. 
 
 Emily. 
 
 * From Mr. Forbes’ account. 
 
 LETTER 
 
213 
 
 LETTER XXVI. 
 
 FROM CAROLINE TO EM1EY. 
 
 DEAR EMILY , 
 
 I should not have written so soon, had 
 not I met with a circumstance that I think worth 
 your notice; as it is a striking confirmation of a 
 pleasing truth that I have long cherished, though 
 without daring to assure myself that the thing 
 existed, as it seems to bring animals too much 
 on a level with human creatures. I gnu now 
 convinced, that, though the brute creation is not 
 capable of acting virtuously from a principle of 
 duty, and that grand stimulus that man enjoys, 
 of the hope of a future reward, they are, never- 
 theless, often endowed with virtuous dispositions, 
 such as gratitude, attachment, docility, and >■ 
 other amiable propensities, of which I give you 
 the following example. 
 
 A farmer* in our neighbourhood had a bull 
 so wild and ferocious, that he was kept con- 
 stantly chained, except when led to water, &c. 
 at which time he was never suffered to be out of 
 the hands of a trusty person. This animal 
 
 * The facts here related, are taken from the Monthly 
 Magazine, for October, 1810 . 
 
 seemed 
 
914 
 
 seemed to have conceived a particular antipathy 
 against the farmer’s brother, who assisted him in 
 his business, and had probably irritated him on 
 some occasion, without being aware of the con- 
 sequences. He never saw him approach the 
 open shed in which lie was kept, without begin- 
 ning to bellow most dreadfully, which he con- 
 tinued as long as the object of his dislike was in 
 view; at the same time tearing up the earth with 
 his horns, and showing every symptom of the 
 utmost aversion. On two occasions, while lead- 
 ing to water, lie very cunningly watched an 
 opportunity, and endeavoured to make a sudden 
 spring out of the hands of his attendant, at his 
 enemy, who was standing in the yard. 
 
 Whilst the bull was under the influence of 
 hostility and resentment, one of the most tre- 
 mendous thunder-storms ever remembered in this 
 country occurred. The lightning resembled 
 sheets of fire, and each flash was instantly suc- 
 ceeded by a thunder-clap, as loud as if a volley 
 of ten thousand cannon had been discharged. 
 The piteous roarings of the bull, during this con- 
 vulsion of the elements, were quite affecting. 
 Being exposed, in an open shed, to ail the fury 
 of the storm, he sent forth, every instant, a yell of 
 terror, hideous beyond description. Imagining 
 that it was the lightning that chiefly alarmed 
 the animal, the farmer proposed to the men 
 
 servants 
 
215 
 
 servants to go and remove him into the barn, 
 but in vain : they were so much terrified at their 
 own danger, that the roarings of the bull made no 
 impression upon them, nor could any of them be 
 persuaded to move. The farmer's brother, who 
 is a humane, generous young man, undertook the 
 task, facing at once the double danger of the 
 lightning, and the fury of the bull. He accord - 
 ingly put on his great coat, and went into the 
 yard. The moment he approached the bull, 
 which he found lying, trembling, on his back, 
 having almost torn his chain through the gristle 
 of his nose, in his efforts to get loose, he rose, 
 and, by his fawning actions, expressed the de- 
 light he felt at the sight of any thing human, 
 amidst such a scefte of terror. Fear had dis- 
 armed him of his 'ferocity : with the utmost 
 quietness he sufierecT himself to be untied and 
 led to the barn, by the very man whom, a few 
 hours before, he would have torn in pieces, if he 
 could have got at him. 
 
 The next morning, as his deliverer was cross- 
 ing the yard, he remarked that the bull, which 
 had been replaced in his shed, no longer saluted 
 him with his accustomed bellow. It struck him 
 that the animal might remember his kindness to 
 him the night before. He accordingly ventured, 
 by degrees, to approach him; and found that 
 now, so far from showing any dislike to him, he 
 
 su fibred 
 
suffered him, with the utmost gentleness, to 
 scratch his head. And, from that very day, he 
 has continued to him as tame as a lamb; suffer- 
 ing him to play all manner of tricks with him, 
 which no other person about the farm dares 
 attempt, and seeming even to take pleasure in 
 being noticed by him. 
 
 A more striking instance of a sudden transition 
 from hatred to affection, can scarcely be found, 
 and one in which the cause was so clearly 
 marked. It was not the change of caprice, but 
 of something like reason, arising from gratitude 
 to a benefactor. A practical lesson may be de- 
 rived from this anecdote — that even the most 
 savage dispositions may be subdued by gentle 
 treatment ; and yet, how seldom it is attempted 
 to manage animals by any tiling but harshness. 
 Does this arise from inhumanity, ignorance, 
 thoughtlessness, or the love of tyrannic sway ? 
 From each of these causes, I believe; and sorry 
 I am to say, that the same injudicious system is 
 often exercised towards children, whose tender 
 dispositions are changed to perverseness and 
 obstinacy, by the use of the rod. Mrs. Saville 
 often says, that blows never eradicated a vicious 
 propensity: they teach the dear innocents to 
 deceive from fear, but not to correct themselves; 
 and since she has been a parent, she has never 
 been known to have given even a hasty slap. 
 
 The 
 
217 
 
 The amiable character of my dear Rachel is the 
 best proof of the excellence of her sentiments on 
 this subject. The equality of her own temper 
 enables her to govern that of others, without the 
 necessity of recurring to severity. But I have 
 almost lost sight of my original subject — the vir- 
 tuous disposition of animals. I have already 
 given you an instance of gratitude, I will now 
 entertain you with one of affection. 
 
 In the spring of 1803, Miss T. in compliance 
 with the request of a little boy, who had attempt- 
 ed to rear a nest of grey linnets, took the only sur- 
 vivor under her protection. For some days she 
 kept the little bird in her bosom, to supply the 
 warmth of its nest, and fed it frequently with 
 the most delicate and nourishing food ; and at 
 night, instead of placing it in a cage, she laid it 
 on the pillow, close to her face, and rose at day- 
 break to give it food. In short, she accom- 
 plished her task by the most assiduous care, and 
 soon had the satisfaction of seeing her little 
 charge able to feed itself, and sit on the perch. 
 This kindness was repaid by the strongest attach- 
 ment on the part of the bird. Except when he 
 was feeding, he sat continually on her head or 
 her shoulder; and if she left him but for a short 
 time, he would instantly fly to her with ex- 
 pressions of joy, hover round her in ecstacy, 
 and warble to the utmost stretch of his voice; 
 
 then 
 
218 
 
 then fly to her lips, and kiss them with trans- 
 port. In a few months, being obliged to leave 
 Ireland, she offered, though reluctantly, to re- 
 sign her favourite, which she had named Ariel, 
 to his first owner. The little boy, sensible of 
 the pains she had taken, and the attachment she 
 had formed, generously made her a present of 
 the bird, which she brought with her to England. 
 Ariel continued to show her, every day, if pos- 
 sible, stronger marks of attachment, not unmixed 
 with jealousy ; for if she was absent for a day or 
 two, which sometimes unavoidably happened, 
 he appeared dull and discontented, and seldom 
 sang; yet, the moment he heard her voice, or 
 even her step, at a distance, which he dis- 
 tinguished from every other, he would fly to her 
 with delight: but, as if recollecting that she had 
 offended him, he would scold her, which he 
 does whenever any thing displeases or frightens 
 him, and be sullen for a long while, sitting on 
 his perch in a fit of ill-humour. When his 
 anger was abated, he would try to make amends 
 for his displeasure, by kissing her lips, and feed- 
 ing her with the seeds he had shelled, or throw- 
 ing up from his maw the food he had previously 
 swallowed, putting it into her mouth with his 
 bill, as if she had been a young bird ; then he 
 would settle on her shoulder, and remain there 
 without attempting to regain his liberty, though 
 
 she 
 
219 
 
 she sometimes ventured into the garden with 
 him in that situation. After staying three years 
 in England, Miss T. returned to Ireland, and 
 carried her favourite with her, who is still living, 
 and as fond of his mistress as ever. He is prone 
 to take dislikes to strangers, especially if meanly 
 dressed ; and he never fails to testify it, by scold- 
 ing like a parrot; and when he has once shown 
 symptoms of aversion, nothing can overcome it, 
 but he repeats the same sounds upon the appear- 
 ance of the person, whom he recognises though 
 in a different dress. He has a great abhorrence 
 of scarlet or full red, and seems terrified at a red 
 coat, a shawl, or a standard of colours *. 
 
 This extraordinary account proves that birds 
 are capable of attachment towards particular 
 persons ; a quality that renders them as amiable 
 as they are beautiful. In those species that 
 form permanent attachments of the conjugal 
 kind, the instances of affection towards their 
 mates are so striking, and so numerous, that it 
 would be an endless task to particularize them : 
 but I cannot resist mentioning one that happened 
 under my own eye, since I have been in Wales. 
 Mrs. Saville had a pair of beautiful pea-fowls, 
 that were the prime ornaments of her poultry- 
 
 * These circumstances were authenticated by a lady of 
 respectable character. 
 
 L 2 
 
 yard, 
 
220 
 
 tyafcl, and remarkably fond of each other. It 
 happened, unluckily, that a fox, who had been 
 for some time the depredator of the neighbour- 
 ing hen-roosts, found his way into our yard, and, 
 in an unguarded moment, seized the poor peahen, 
 and carried her off. The robber, by some acci- 
 dent, being disturbed in his flight, left bis prey 
 undevoured, in the hedge at the bottom of the 
 orchard. The body being found, was brought 
 home, and after being honoured by the lamenta- 
 tions of the whole family, was deposited upon 
 the dunghill. In the mean time, the peacock 
 missed his companion, and, with anxious search, 
 paraded about the yard, till at last he discovered 
 her remains, and, no doubt, hoping to cherish 
 her with his warmth, sat down upon them, and 
 continued his post for three days, till, finding 
 all his efforts ineffectual, he at length gave lip 
 the attempt. 
 
 "Dogs have frequently watched by their mas- 
 ter’s graves, but I know no other example of a 
 bird’s maintaining the same constancy after 
 death. 
 
 Homer relates that the dog of Ulysses recog- 
 nised his master, though disguised in the garb 
 of a beggar, and was so overpowered with joy, 
 that he expired at his feet. The incident was 
 probably the creation of the poet’s imagination ; 
 but he wrought his interesting narrations on the 
 
 undeviating 
 
andeviatinglawsof nature, or his immortal works 
 would not have afforded such exquisite delight 
 to so many succeeding generations* Therefore, 
 though uncommon, it is not improbable, that a 
 dog should die through excess of joy at the re- 
 turn of a beloved master, after an absence of 
 several years. As you may prefer the story in 
 verse, I give you the following lines. 
 
 tl When wise Ulysses, from. his native coast. 
 
 Long kept by wars, and long by tempests tost. 
 Arriv’d at last, poor, old, disguis’d, alone. 
 
 To ail his friends, and e’en his queen unknown? 
 
 In his own palace forc’d to ask his bread. 
 
 Scorn’d by those slaves his former bounty fed. 
 
 Forgot of all his own domestic crew. 
 
 The faithful dog alone his master knew. 
 
 Unfed, unhous’d, neglected on the clay, 
 
 Like an old servant, now cashier’d, he Jay; 
 
 And though e’en then expiring on the plain, } 
 Touch’d with resentment of ungrateful-man, > 
 And longing to behold his ancient lord again, j 
 Him when he saw, he rose, and crawl’d to meet, 
 
 < 1 was all he could, and fawn’d, and kiss’d his feet: 
 Seiz’d with dumb joy, then falling by his side. 
 
 Own’d his returning lord, look’d up, and died.” 
 
 The close of evening compels me to terminate 
 my letter^ with assurances of undiminisbed af- 
 fection. 
 
 Caroline. 
 
 LETTER 
 
222 
 
 LETTER XXVII. 
 
 FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE* 
 
 DEAR CAROLINE , 
 
 The progress of attachment between 
 Mr. Hervey and Charlotte Ormond, is very 
 visible to every observant eye, and has already 
 had a good effect on her disposition and beha- 
 viour. He despises the airs of consequence these 
 girls assume, and shows that he hopes she is ca- 
 pable of improvement, by taking every opportu- 
 nity of correcting and opposing, with charming 
 frankness, her false notions ; particularly those 
 relating to the potency of rank, wealth, and 
 fashion, as necessary to happiness. Sometimes 
 he tries raillery, at others, serious argument, and 
 evidently gains ground ; for she is not deficient 
 in either good sense, or good temper. But it is 
 a difficult task to part with errors long cherished, 
 especially such as flatter our self-love, and adopt, 
 in their stead, those rational notions that impose 
 restraint and self-denial. Happy is it for Char- 
 lotte, that her heart, in spite of pride, has be- 
 trayed her into an attachment to a man of sense 
 and virtue, who is not so hoodwinked by love, as 
 to overlook her defects. His principles are too 
 
 good 
 
good to suffer him to deceive her; and he seems 
 anxious to explain to her what she is to expect 
 if ever she becomes his wife. 'I he other day, he 
 enlarged on the pleasures of the home fire-side, 
 and declared, that he could never venture to 
 unite himself witii a woman who could not 
 be satisfied with the reality of that description 
 of domestic life, so elegantly pourtrayed by 
 Thomson : 
 
 “ An elegant sufficiency, content, 
 
 Retirement, rural quiet, friendship, books, 
 
 Ease and alternate labour, useful life, 
 
 Progressive virtue, and approving Heaven.” 
 
 Charlotte blushed, and looked rather silly : he 
 relieved her embarrassment by saying, that what*: 
 ever her sentiments had once been, he was sure 
 sbe no longer thought a title or a coach and four, 
 absolutely essential to enjoyment, and, that at 
 some period not very distant, he hoped he 
 should have the pleasure of making her an ad- 
 mirable wife. The subject was turned off as a 
 jest, but Charlotte was more than usually thought- 
 ful the rest of the day, being well assured it was 
 a serious truth. Miss Ormond is more incor- 
 rigible than ever, and not a little mortified at the 
 alteration in her sister, which she terms meanness 
 of spirit. The attentions of an old worn-out 
 debauchee, who has beggared himself at the 
 
 gaming- 
 
gaming-table, but is dignified with the title of 
 an earl, tend to increase her hauteur; and so little 
 sensible is she of the true nature of degradation, 
 that she disdains no artifice to allure this anti- 
 quated, hungry lover, whose sole adoration is 
 offered to the contents of her purse, but which 
 she attributes to the influence of her personal 
 charms. The old people are equally infatuated, 
 and are delighted with the prospect of having 
 such a noble son-in-law. 
 
 Mr. Hervey is often at the Lodge : he takes 
 pleasure in entertaining us with an account of the 
 productions of India, and, as natural history 
 is his favourite study, the instincts or sagacity 
 of the animals, are frequent topics of our convers- 
 ation. He agrees with you, in thinking, that 
 many individuals of the inferior classes of crea* 
 lion, exhibit virtuous propensities, that render 
 them strikingly amiable. In support of this 
 theory, he told us, that as he was one day shoot- 
 ing, under the cubbeer-burr, a species of grove I 
 will describe hereafter, he chanced to kill a fe- 
 male monkey, and carried it to his tent, which, 
 in a short time, was surrounded by forty or fifty 
 monkeys, who made a great noise, and, in a me- 
 nacing posture, advanced towards the door. He 
 took up his fowling-piece and presented, upon 
 which they retreated a little, and appeared ir- 
 resolute; but one, who, from his age and situa- 
 tion 
 
255 
 
 tion in Hie van, seemed the head of the troop, 
 stood his ground, chattering and menacing in a 
 furious manner; nor could any efforts with the 
 gun drive him off. He at length came close to 
 the tent door, and finding that his threatenings 
 were of no avail, he began a lamentable moaning, 
 and, by every token of grief and supplication, 
 seemed to beg the body of the deceased. After 
 viewing his distress for some time, it was given to 
 him. He received it with a tender sorrow, and 
 taking it up in his arms, embraced it with con- 
 jugal affection, and carried it off to his expecting 
 comrades. The artless behaviour of this poor 
 animal, so powerfully wrought on Mr. Hervey 
 and his companions, that they resolved, in future^ 
 never more to level a gun at a monkey*. 
 
 The famous banian tree, ( Ficus Indica ,) called 
 by the Hindoos, cubbcer-burr, is one of the won- 
 ders of their country +. A considerable part of 
 this extraordinary tree has been swept away by 
 the high floods of a neighbouring river, but 
 what still remains is near two thousand feet in 
 circumference, measured round the principal 
 stem : the overhanging branches, not yet struck 
 down, cover a much larger space ; and under it 
 
 * On the authority of James Forbes, Esq. 
 
 * James Forbes, Esq. who relates these particulars from 
 personal inspection. 
 
 l5 
 
 grow 
 
m 
 
 grow a number of custard apples, and other wild 
 plants. The large trunks of this single tree 
 amount to three hundred and fifty ; the smaller 
 stems, forming into stronger supporters, exceed 
 three thousand ; and every one of them is casting 
 out smaller branches, and hanging roots, in 
 time to form trunks, and become the parents of 
 a future progeny. 
 
 According to the superstition of the Hindoos, 
 the origin of cubbeer-burr is ascribed to one of 
 their saints, who, long ages ago, invoked a bless- 
 ing from Brahma, on a small sprig of a banian 
 tree, which he stuck into the ground on this spot, 
 and prayed that it might overshadow multi- 
 tudes. It is, probably, some thousand years 
 oid, and the Hindoos behold it with peculiar 
 reverence. Indeed, we cannot be surprised at 
 their affection for these verdant blessings, in the 
 torrid zone. On sacred festivals they repair 
 under the shade of cubbeer-burr, to worship their 
 respective deities, and perform their ablutions in 
 the surrounding stream. This magnificent pa- 
 vilion is filled with a variety of feathered song- 
 sters, peacocks, and other birds ; and crowded 
 with whole families of monkeys, whose antics 
 are very diverting; showing their parental affec- 
 tion, by teaching their young to procure their 
 food, and exert themselves, with agility, in jump- 
 ing from bough to bough, and then taking more 
 
 extensive 
 
227 
 
 extensive leaps, from tree to tree ; encouraging* 
 them by caresses when timorous, and menacing, 
 and sometimes beating them, when refractory. 
 
 These animals show a curious instinct, in their 
 method of destroying the snakes, which infest 
 these trees: as if fully aware of their malignity, 
 they seize them when asleep, by the neck, and 
 running to the nearest flat stone, grind down the 
 head, by rubbing, it with great force, on the sur- 
 face; frequently looking at it, and grinning at 
 their progress. When they are convinced that 
 the venomous fangs are destroyed, they toss it to 
 their young ones to play with, and seem to re- 
 joice in the destruction of the common enemy. 
 
 The sagacity of the monkey tribe, in a wild 
 state, seems to approach very near to reason : 
 when domesticated, they gain more credit for 
 intelligence than they deserve, from their extra- 
 ordinary powers of mimicry. Some time ago, 
 a lady of rank * had a present sent her, of a par- 
 rot and a monkey, by the same ship. These 
 animals became very sociable and fond of each 
 other. The monkey one day observing the cook 
 pluck a fowl, and thinking that he could perform 
 the same feat, took it into his head to try the 
 experiment upon the poor parrot, and presently 
 stripped her of all her feathers. 
 
 Lady Mary Talbot, 
 
 The 
 
228 
 
 The same monkey, after he came to England, 
 happened to see the poultry killed, and was so 
 dexterous a mimic, that, getting into the hen- 
 house, he twisted the necks of a vast number of 
 chickens, in a trice. 
 
 I delight in tracing the amiable affections, 
 even in animals, and hope you will collect some 
 more instances of the same nature. 
 
 I enclose a paper given me by Mr. Hervcy, 
 with a general account of the monkey tribe, that, 
 I think, will afford you a half-hour’s amusement. 
 
 Your very sincere and affectionate friend, 
 
 Emily* 
 
 That class of animals called apes, seems to 
 excite peculiar interest, from the resemblance of 
 their figure to that of man, their capacity of 
 walking upright, and their propensity to imita- 
 tion. We are apt to attribute to them peculiar 
 sagacity, from their comical tricks; though it 
 seems, that many other animals far excel them, 
 in their wild state, as to their natural habits, and 
 the policy of their communities. Their form, 
 indeed, approaches to ours; yet it is but a hideous 
 resemblance, characteristic of vice and deform- 
 ity. The satyrs and bacchanals in heathen my- 
 thology, were symbols of every inordinate pas- 
 sion: 
 
sion: the model from which they were deli- 
 neated, was evidently taken from the ape tribe, 
 as may be seen by the strong similitude of the 
 countenances of the one to the other. Nor does 
 the dispositions of these creatures falsify their 
 physiognomy : many species are said to be fierce, 
 ill-natured, malicious, revengeful, thievish, mis- 
 chievous, and immodest; exhibiting a picture, if 
 it may bear that term, of man in the most de- 
 based condition, a slave to vice and his own 
 unrestrained inclinations. Yet these creatures are 
 domestic favourites, and, it must be confessed, 
 that some of the smaller tribes are not always des- 
 titute of beauty, if considered as an animal, and 
 not as a counterpart to the noble, intelligent race 
 of mankind. The ribbed-nose baboon, though 
 disgusting in shape, is adorned with a variety 
 of beautiful colours. Its nose is marked with 
 broad ribs on each side, of a fine violet blue 
 colour : a vermilion line begins a little above the 
 eyes, and running down on each side of the 
 nose, spreads to the tip of it. The insides of the 
 ears are blue, which gradually softens to a pur- 
 ple, and terminates in vermilion. The rump is 
 of the same colour; and the beautiful tints on the 
 hips, are gradations from red to blue. The 
 beard is dark at the roots, orange at the middle, 
 and yellow at the ends. But all this finery does 
 not make him amiable, for his manners and dis- 
 
 positioa 
 
230 
 
 position are odious. The upper part of the body 
 and tail, of the green monkey, are covered with 
 beautiful hair of a fine green colour, which en- 
 ables the creature to conceal itself amongst the 
 foliage of the trees : the throat, belly, and under 
 side of the limbs, are of a silvery whiteness, 
 which, with its diminutive size, must render it 
 an object of admiration ; it being not much above 
 eight inches high, though the tail is eighteen 
 inches long, and, probably, serves it for an arm, 
 by which it clings to the branches of trees. 
 
 The orange monkey is nearly the size of a 
 squirrel : its head is round, eyes remarkably lively 
 and brilliant ; ears large; the body covered with 
 short, fine hair, of a shining gold colour; and 
 the tail is long. 
 
 But the most beautiful of this tribe, is the 
 mico, or fair monkey. Its head is small and 
 round; face and ears of so lively a scarlet, that 
 they look as if they were painted. The long 
 white hair that covers its body, is of a silvery 
 whiteness, which is contrasted by the shining 
 dark chesnut-colour of its long tail. As they 
 diminish in size, and increase in beauty, they 
 appear to lose the ferocious disposition of the 
 larger kinds of baboons, and are gentle, playful, 
 and amusing. 
 
 The race is divided, by naturalists, into the 
 three classes of apes, baboons, and monkeys. 
 
 Apes 
 
231 
 
 Apes have no tails, walk upright, and have a 
 nearer resemblance than their fellows to the hu- 
 man form; having calves to their legs, and their 
 hands and feet shaped nearly in the same manner. 
 
 The baboon has a short tail, a long projecting 
 face, sunk eyes, and generally walks on all fours, 
 unless compelled, in a state of servitude, to walk 
 erect. Some of them are as tall, and have as 
 much strength, as the most powerful men. Their 
 propensities and figure are altogether most dis- 
 gusting. 
 
 The monkeys are a more diminutive race: 
 their tails are generally longer than their body, 
 and, in many species, serve, from their flexibility, 
 the purposes of an arm, by which the animal 
 clings with safety to the upper branches of the 
 tallest trees. 
 
 However the frolicsome temper of this latter 
 division may introduce them as playthings into 
 our houses, it is most unaccountable that reason- 
 able beings should ever consider them as objects 
 of worship; yet, from the relation of many re- 
 spectable travellers, it seems an undoubted fact, 
 that in many parts of India, magnificent temples 
 are erected in their honour. In Amadabad, the 
 capital of Guzarat, there are three hospitals for 
 animals, where lame and sick monkeys, or others 
 who find out this luxurious asylum, are fed 
 with dainty fare. It is much to be feared, that 
 
 whilst 
 
232 
 
 whilst this improper indulgence is superstitiously 
 bestowed upon brutes, that many of the human 
 race, in the same country, languish through 
 want and neglect. 
 
 The amusing tricks that are told of the ani- 
 mals of this genus in a state of captivity, though 
 they show their capacity of being taught, and 
 evince their sagacity, yet they do not inform us 
 of their instincts or natural habits: for them, we 
 must have recourse to the accounts of travellers 
 who have visited the torrid zone, where all the 
 species, except the Barbary ape, are found. 
 
 From the oran otan to the smaller kinds of 
 monkeys, the varieties are very numerous: their 
 habits, of course, differ according to their species, 
 as it is said that they never mix with each other, 
 but live apart, each kind preserving its own do- 
 main. Most of them live in very numerous 
 communities; but the oran otan is a solitary ani- 
 mal, and prefers the most desert places. Though 
 they are frequently six feet high, they are active, 
 strong, and bold : they live on vegetable food, 
 except, occasionally, they meet with shell-fish 
 on the sea-shore. Notwithstanding their size, 
 they are extremely nimble, and chiefly rest in 
 high trees, where they are secure from the attacks 
 of ail rapacious creatures, except their insidious 
 enemies the serpents. It is asserted that they 
 construct something like a hut, not only as a 
 
 shelter 
 
shelter from the heat of the sun* but also as a 
 convenient retreat for the females and their 
 young. They are so courageous as to drive 
 elephants away from their haunts; and defend 
 themselves with sticks, or by throwing stones, 
 when they are enraged. A single man is by no 
 means a match for them. Bosnian relates that 
 two negro slaves happened to fall in with several 
 of these dangerous creatures, on the coast of 
 Guinea, when the apes having overpowered 
 them, they were just on the point of pushing 
 out their eyes with sticks, as a party of negroes 
 came up, and rescued them. 
 
 On dissecting the oran otan, there are many 
 essential distinctions in the internal formation, 
 from that of a man, though, in some parts, the 
 affinity is so great, that their inferiority can only 
 be attributed to the want of reason, or a deficiency 
 in those intellectual powers that raise the human 
 race above all other creatures. The tongue 
 and the organs of the voice are similar; yet the 
 oran otan is dumb. In the appearance and 
 arrangement of the brain, no difference can be 
 perceived; but the oran otan is irrational. 
 Buffon concludes, from these circumstances, that 
 mind does not depend upon any conformation 
 of matter, but is of a nature superior and in- 
 dependent. 
 
 The 
 
234 
 
 The residence of wild animals being generally 
 far removed from the habitations of man, it is 
 difficult to trace their instincts; especially of 
 those species that seclude themselves in the re- 
 cesses of woods and forests, where few ever enter 
 but hunters or wanderers, who are too much en- 
 gaged in securing themselves against danger, to 
 observe, attentively, the habits of the creatures 
 around them. Some particulars have, however, 
 been collected of different species of the ape 
 genus, which are worth your notice. 
 
 The pigmy ape is found in the southern parts of 
 Africa: it lives in woods, and feeds on fruits and 
 insects. If wild beasts attack them, they assemble 
 in troops, and defend themselves by throwing a 
 cloud of sand behind them, which blinds their 
 pursuers, and renders their escape easy. This 
 action shows great sagacity, and appears to be 
 the result of reflection. They act in concert, as 
 is seen from their plundering gardens or plant- 
 ations in a large body; whilst one of them is 
 always stationed on an eminence as a watchman, 
 to see that no enemy is at hand. If all is safe, he 
 makes it known by a signal that sets them all 
 to work; but if he perceives any one approach, 
 he warns those on the ground to run up the 
 trees. If it is necessary to abandon their pro- 
 ject, they will pursue their route, by leaping 
 from tree to tree, till they reach the mountains. 
 
 Tim 
 
235 
 
 The females, in these flights, are frequently laden 
 with three or four young ones, clinging round 
 their necks and backs; but this burden does 
 not prevent them from making surprising leaps, 
 both as to distance and swiftness. 
 
 Tavernier gives an extraordinary instance of 
 the malicious and revengeful disposition of the 
 Barbary ape. As he was travelling with the 
 English president, in the East Indies, they ob- 
 served a great number of large apes upon the 
 neighbouring trees. The president, amused by 
 an appearance so novel to him, wished to have 
 one shot for a nearer examination, though the 
 natives who attended him represented the danger 
 of exciting their vengeance. In compliance 
 with the president’s request, Tavernier, however, 
 brought down a female with her little ones. In 
 an instant, her companions, to the number of 
 sixty, at least, descended in fury, and crowded 
 upon the president’s coach ; where they would 
 presently have dispatched him, had not the 
 blinds been immediately closed, and the apes 
 beaten off by the numerous attendants. The 
 flesh of this species is eaten by the wild Arabs. 
 
 The baboon is very formidable, from its great 
 strength, ferocious disposition, and extreme agi- 
 lity. One of them, at liberty, will easily over- 
 come two or three men, which may be partly 
 attributed to their sharp claws. They store 
 
 their 
 
2 36 
 
 their food in their cheek pouches. One ofthem 
 kept in confinement, was known to hide eight 
 eggs at a time in this manner; and when he had 
 a convenient opportunity, he took them out, one 
 at a titfie, and after breaking them at the end, 
 swallowed them deliberately. They plunder 
 gardens and orchards with the same precautions 
 as the apes, and dexterously fling the, fruit from 
 one to another, in order to carry it off more 
 expeditiously ; but if disturbed, they break it to 
 pieces, and cram it into their cheek pouches. 
 At the sight of a man, they- run up the trees, 
 chatter, and shake the boughs at him with in- 
 credible boldness* ... The roots of bulbous plants 
 are one of their favourite repasts: they dig them 
 up, and then peel them with great cleverness, 
 leaving heaps of the outside skin where they 
 have been feasting. 
 
 The hare-lipped monkey goes also in troops, 
 and is inexpressibly injurious to the plantations 
 of millet, which they carry off' under their arms, 
 and in their mouths. They examine every stalk 
 they pull up, and are so delicate in their choice, 
 that they reject more than they consume. 
 
 The Chinese monkey, when fruits are scarce, 
 repairs to the sea-shore, and catches crabs by 
 putting its tail between their pincers, and when 
 they are closed, runs off' with its booty, and 
 devours it whenever convenient. It also con- 
 trives 
 
Irives to get at (be kernel of the cocoa-nut, but 
 without losing the milk. The natives take the 
 advantage of their fondness for this fruit, by 
 laying some of them, after boring a hole through 
 the shell, near their haunts; the first monkey 
 that finds them, thrusts his paw into one of these 
 holes, in order to get at the kernel, and the peo- 
 ple, who are prepared for this circumstance, run 
 up without delay, and seize him before he can 
 disengage himself. 
 
 The preacher is the largest of all the American 
 monkeys, being about the size of a fox: great 
 numbers of them inhabit the woods of Brazil 
 and (iuiana. They frequently assemble in com- 
 panies, and placing themselves in a kind of re- 
 gular order, one of them first begins with a loud 
 tone, which may be heard to a great distance: 
 the rest soon join in frill chorus, the most dis- 
 cordant and terrible that can be conceived. Oil 
 a sudden, they all stop but the first, who closes 
 the assembly with a solo. They live in trees, 
 and leap from bough to bough with surprising 
 agility, catching hold with their hands and 
 tails, as they spring from one branch to another; 
 and maintain their grasp so firmly, that even 
 when shot, they remain fixed till they die. 
 
 Serpents are the great enemies *o this active 
 tribe, and their agility is a more 6 powerful defence 
 
 than 
 
235 
 
 than a coat of mail ; for so conscious are they of 
 its advantages, that some of them will leap back- 
 wards and forwards over the snakes, when they 
 are reposing, without discovering the least sign 
 of fear. 
 
 Stedman, who wrote an account of Surinam, 
 minutely describes the gambols of the squirrel 
 monkey, called by the natives, keesee-keesee, an 
 elegant little animal, about the size of a rabbit. 
 He saw numbers of them daily passing along the 
 sides of the river, skipping from tree to tree, re- 
 gularly following each other, like a little army, 
 with their young ones at their backs, which 
 have no unapt resemblance to knapsacks. The 
 leader walks to the extremity of a bough, from 
 which it springs to the end of an opposite one, 
 belonging to the next tree, often at a most asto- 
 nishing distance, and, with such wonderful ac- 
 tivity and precision, that it never misses its aim : 
 the others, one by one, and even the females 
 with their little ones at their backs, which stick 
 fast to the mother, follow their guide, and make 
 the same leap, with equal certainty and ease. 
 
 This leads me to mention the extreme affection 
 of the females for their young : they suckle, ca- 
 ress, and cleanse them of the vermin that harbour 
 in their fur; then crouching on their hams, ob- 
 serve their gambols with each other with great 
 
 delight. 
 
239 
 
 delight. Whilst the little ones are at play, 
 wrestling, throwing each other down, or running 
 after each other, if the dam perceives one of them 
 malicious, or untoward, she springs upon them, 
 and seizing it by the tail with one paw, corrects 
 it severely with the other. Sometimes the de- 
 linquent will try to escape, but when got out of 
 reach, as if waiting till its mother’s anger had 
 subsided, returns gently, in a wheedling, caress- 
 ing manner, to avert her displeasure. Some- 
 times they are all obedient to the first cry she 
 makes as a signal of command, and will follow 
 her, if she goes a gentle pace; but if she has oc- 
 casion to move swiftly, they mount upon her 
 back, or cling to the fore part of her body. 
 The female, thus loaded, will perform extraor- 
 dinary feats of agility ; and, when tired of her 
 burden, will rub against a tree till the little 
 ones are obliged to descend, when the male takes 
 them up in his turn. 
 
 The monkey tribe in America, differs materially 
 from those of the other quarters of the globe, in 
 having neither cheek-pouches, nor callosities, or 
 hardness, on the buttocks. They are divided 
 into two genera, called Sapajous and Sagoins, 
 which are distinguished from each other, by cha- 
 racters peculiar to each. The tail of the sapajou 
 is flexible, having the under part covered, gene- 
 rally, with a smooth, naked skin. The animal 
 
 can 
 
SiO 
 
 can coll it up or extend it at pleasure; suspend 
 itself by its extremity, from the branches of 
 trees; or use it as a hand, to take hold of any 
 thing it wants. The tail of the sagoin seems 
 adapted to different purposes; being longer than 
 those of the sapajous, straight, flaccid, and 
 tirely covered with hair. 
 
 LETTER 
 
241 
 
 LETTER XXVIII. 
 
 FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY* 
 
 MY DEAREST EMILY , 
 
 Tins Mr. Ilervey seems to be a very rea- 
 sonable kind of lover. I am highly pleased 
 that he has sufficient influence to awaken Char- 
 lotte to pursue the true path to happiness: though 
 much devoted to folly, and dazzled by the glare 
 of a newly-acquired rank, she always possessed 
 that docility of temper which is an excellent basis 
 for improvement, and, in such hands, will, most 
 probably, be the means of rendering her ari 
 amiable woman. 
 
 Margaret’s self-confidence and envious dis- 
 position destroy every hope of amendment: the 
 respect paid, in course, to her situation in life, 
 will feed her insatiable pride, which, increasing 
 as she advances in age, will make her insupport- 
 able to others, and unhappy in herself. She 
 who thinks herself the object of envy and admi- 
 ration, claims nothing but pity; for the prospect 
 before her is no better than splendid misery: it 
 offers nothing to satisfy the cravings of a rational 
 mind— no ground for that enjoyment that arises 
 from social pleasure and active benevolence. 
 Mrs. Suville is, comparatively, poor; but she is 
 M happy, 
 
happy, because slie covets nothing beyond what 
 she possesses— adds a zest to all she has, by the 
 cheerfulness of her own heart; and seldom suf- 
 fers a day to pass, without increasing the happi- 
 ness of some of her neighbours, by her kind 
 offices* I love to accompany her in her village 
 excursions: every eye sparkles at her approach; 
 the little children gather round her with a fami- 
 liarity that bespeaks their confidence in her 
 condescension and indulgence* She is mostly 
 provided with some little gift, such as nuts or 
 sugar-plums, to foster this attachment, which* 
 by continued kindness, strengthens with their 
 years, and, as they grow tip, produces an esteem 
 bordering on veneration. She is far from as- 
 suming the stern character of a mere monitor t 
 she shares their pleasures as well as their sorrows* 
 and sometimes joins the festive group, who as* 
 semble, on a fine evening* to listen to the harper* 
 Every town in the principality has a musician 
 of this kind, who, when the labour of the day 
 is over, amuses men, women, and children, with 
 his artless strains. If the weather invites them 
 abroad, he takes possession of a bench at the 
 door of the public-house : if wet, he retires to the 
 kitchen, whither his audience presently follow 
 him; and so fond are the Welsh of this instru- 
 ment, that a harper is thought a necessary 
 appendage to every great family. 
 
 Sunday* 
 
24 3 
 
 Sunday, in our village, is a kind of festival: 
 the cottagers, with their families, attend church 
 twice a day, dressed with peculiar neatness, in 
 their best attire, as is customary with the Welsh 
 on that day; after which, they relax in a plea- 
 sant walk or playing with their children. Their 
 manners, in general, are very simple, and their 
 accommodations few, as you will perceive by 
 their mode of washing. In order to save soap, 
 the poor soak their linen in some clear stream, 
 and then belabour it till it is clean, with a heavy 
 piece of wood, shaped like a battledoor, after 
 having laid it on a smooth stone. Coal is sup- 
 plied by peat-moss, and every cottage is furnished 
 with a stack of this material, for the purpose of 
 fuel. One of the sources from which they derive 
 the means of subsistence, is the abundance of 
 salmon in the rivers of this country. It is not 
 unusual to see the harpooner equipped for his 
 day’s work, with a spear, a paddle, and a small, 
 light boat, generally made with osiers, covered 
 either with canvass or leather : with these cheap 
 implements he pursues his course, and often 
 returns home with a valuable spoil. A visit to 
 a salmon-fishery, within a few miles of us, has 
 afforded me great entertainment, being a scene 
 entirely new; but my attention was, in some 
 degree, withdrawn from the main object, by a 
 water-dog, whose art in assisting the fishermen, 
 m 2 exceeded 
 
244 
 
 exceeded every thing I ever remember to have 
 seen. As soon as he perceived the men were 
 preparing to cast the net, he instantly ran down 
 the river of his own accord, and took his post in 
 the middle of it, on some shallows, where he 
 could run or swim, as occasion required, and 
 in this position he placed himself, with all the 
 eagerness and attention so strongly marked in & 
 pointer-dog, who sets his game. For some time, 
 I was at a loss to comprehend his design, but 
 the event soon satisfied me, and completely justi- 
 fied the prudence of the animal; for the fish, 
 when they feel the net, always endeavour to make 
 directly out to sea. Accordingly, one of the 
 salmon escaping from the net, rushed down the 
 stream with great velocity, towards the ford, 
 where the dog stood to receive him at an advan- 
 tage. A very diverting chase now commenced, 
 in which, from the shallowness of the water, we 
 could discern the whole track of the fish, with 
 all its rapid turnings and windings. After a smart 
 pursuit, the dog found himself left considerably 
 behind, in consequence of the water deepening, 
 by which he had been reduced to the necessity 
 of swimming; but, instead of following this des- 
 perate game ariy longer, he readily gave it over, 
 and ran, with all his speed, directly down the 
 river, till he was sure of being again to seaward 
 of the salmon, where he took post as before, in 
 
 his 
 
245 . 
 
 his pointer’s attitude. Here the fish met him a 
 second time, and a fresh pursuit ensued, in 
 which, after various attempts, the salmon, at 
 last, made its way out to the sea, notwithstand- 
 ing all the ingenious and vigorous exertions of 
 its pursuer. Though, on ibis occasion, the dog 
 was unsuccessful, the fisherman assured us, that 
 it was no unusual thing for him to run down his 
 game, and that honest Shag was of very great 
 service to them, by turning the salmon towards 
 the net*. 
 
 We did not order our horses till the cool 
 of the evening, and having sufficient time be- 
 fore us, we suffered them to jog on at their own 
 pace, that we might enjoy an extensive view of 
 the ocean, rendered peculiarly majestic by the 
 luminous appearance of its waves. It seemed 
 absolutely on fire: if you have never seen this 
 beautiful phenomenon, I will give you a lively 
 description of it, in the words of Crabbe : 
 
 4t See, as they float along, th’ entangled weeds 
 Slowly approach, upborn on bladdery beads: 
 
 Wait till they land, and you shall then behold 
 The fiery sparks those tangled Frons* infold. 
 
 Myriads of living points; the unaided eye 
 Can but the Are, and not the form descry. 
 
 * These circumstances are borrowed from Hamilton’s Let- 
 ters concerning the Coast of Antrim., and happened on the 
 ria r er Rush* 
 
 And 
 
no 
 
 A nd now your view, upon the ocean turn. 
 
 And there, the splendour of the waves diseera. 
 
 Cast but a stone, or strike them with an oar. 
 
 And you. shall flames within the deep explore; 
 
 Or scoop the stream phosphoric as you stand. 
 
 And the cold flame shall flash along your hand; 
 "When lost in wonder, you shall walk and gaze 
 On weeds that sparkle, and on waves that blaze.” 
 
 Some assert that these brilliant flashes of phos- 
 phoric light, that sometimes fringe every wave 
 that rolls towards the shore, are produced by vast 
 quantities of putrid matter, formed by the remains 
 of dead fish ; others, with more probability, as 
 I think, attribute this splendid appearance to 
 luminous insects. Leaving the solution of this 
 interesting question to philosophers, I shall close 
 my letter with an instance of gratitude and at- 
 tachment in an elephant, that Mr. Palmer has 
 read, but he cannot recollect the authority on 
 which it rests, with the hope that it will excite 
 Mr. Hervey to supply us with some more anec- 
 dotes of that intelligent animal. A troop pf 
 elephants were accustomed to pass a green-stall, 
 in their way to water. The woman who kept 
 the stall, took a fancy to one of these beasts, 
 and frequently regaled her favourite with refuse 
 greens and fruit, which attached him to her. 
 It happened, one day, that they overturned her 
 stall, and in her haste to preserve her goods, she 
 
 forgot 
 
247 
 
 forgot her little son, -who, by this neglect, was 
 exposed to danger. The elephant perceived the 
 child’s situation, took it up with his proboscis, 
 and carefully placed it in safety, on a shed near 
 at hand. 
 
 How superior in gratitude was this elephant, 
 to many of the human race. Of all the defects 
 of disposition, ingratitude seems the most hate- 
 ful and depraved : it argues a heart insensible 
 to the best propensities of our nature. That 
 neither of us may ever feci its sting, is the sin- 
 cere wish of your 
 
 Caroline. 
 
 LETTER 
 
24 S 
 
 LETTER XXIX. 
 
 FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 
 
 MY DEAR CAROLINE , 
 
 Mr.Hervey accepts your challenge, as 
 he thinks that the opportunities he has had of 
 observing animals wholly out of our reach, will 
 enable him to furnish you, frequently, with both 
 amusement and information. 
 
 In Ids opinion*, the sense of smell, in some 
 animals, seems to be connected with certain 
 mental sympathies; as those of hearing and 
 sight are, in all that possess them in any high 
 degree. It has been observed ilmt dogs, though 
 entirely unacquainted with lions, will tremble 
 and shudder at their roar; and an elephant that 
 has never seen a tiger, will, in the same manner, 
 show the strongest symptoms of horror and 
 affright at the smell of it. The late Lord Clive 
 exhibited a combat between two of these animals 
 at Calcutta; but the scent of the tiger had such an 
 effect upon the elephant, that nothing could either 
 force or allure him to go along the road w r hcre 
 the cage in which it was enclosed had passed, 
 
 * These sentiments, and this relation, are extracted from 
 Mr. Knight’s elegant Analysis of Taste . 
 
 till 
 
219 
 
 m 
 
 till a gallon of arrack was given him, when, his 
 horror suddenly turning into fury, he broke 
 down the paling to get at his enemy, and killed 
 him without difficulty. 
 
 The excessive eagerness which dogs express 
 in smelling their game, seems, to Mr. Hervey, 
 to be but little connected with the appetite for 
 food, and wholly independent of any pre- 
 conceived ideas of the objects of their pursuit 
 being fit for it; hence, several kinds of them will 
 not eat the game which they pursue with such 
 wild impetuosity, and of which the scent ap- 
 pears to animate them to ecstacy, far, he thinks, 
 beyond what the mere desire of food could 
 excite. But I cannot help doubting, whether 
 domestication lias not perverted that sense, ori- 
 ginally given them as a means of directing them 
 to their natural prey, to a different purpose. 
 As a confirmation of his theory, he adds, that 
 where blood has been shed, particularly (hat of 
 their own species, oxen will assemble, and, upon 
 smelling it, roar and bellow, and show the most 
 manifest symptoms of horror and distress. Yet 
 these symptoms could not arise from any asso- 
 ciated ideas of danger or death, since they ap- 
 pear in them that never had any opportunities 
 of acquiring such ideas. They must, therefore, 
 be instinctive, like many other antipathies and 
 propensities, implanted by the hand of Provi- 
 m 5 dence, 
 
250 
 
 Mk 
 
 clence, as natural guards against danger, or 
 impulses to find nourishment, by these sensations 
 operating upon the passions and mental affec- 
 tions more immediately than it is found*to do in 
 the human species, which, enjoying the privi- 
 lege of reason, stands less in need of such a 
 monitor. Can any thing be more beautiful than 
 such a system 1 — a provision for every thing 
 necessary, but nothing redundant. The further 
 I examine the capacities and propensities of 
 animals, the more I admire the harmony of 
 their endowments; including their dispositions 
 and outward form, with the necessities peculiar 
 to each. Their mouths, their eyes, their instru- 
 ments of offence and defence; their forces, ha- 
 bits, and inclinations, are so nicely adapted to 
 the food upon which they are to subsist, the 
 enemies they are to attack or resist, the climate 
 or situation they are to inhabit — that we may 
 clearly see that this curious provision is not con- 
 trived for mere existence, but for a high degree 
 of enjoyment. Happiness, in various grada- 
 tions, seems a universal gift, bestowed by the 
 Creator on all his creatures: man is the only 
 one who, by a misapplication of his talents, 
 perverts the benevolent design, and converts 
 happiness into misery. 
 
 But to return from these reflections to Mr. 
 llervey. He relates a very surprising instance 
 
 of 
 
251 
 
 of the power of man to subdue the most ferocious 
 and blood-thirsty of all animals, the tiger. He 
 says, that some of the Foukeers, or mendicant 
 priests$Wn many parts of Bengal, keep tigers 
 in a state of domestication. He saw one near 
 Colgony, that appeared under subjection to the 
 Foukeer. This priest lived in a small hut, in 
 the midst of a wilderness infested with tigers. 
 The hut stood on a hill, overlooking the flat 
 country on the opposite side of the Ganges. 
 The Foukeer used to walk, almost daily, to the 
 town, accompanied by the tiger, which seemed 
 to create no alarm amongst the inhabitants, who 
 had perfect confidence in the command the 
 priest had over him *. But Mr. Hervey could 
 not discover by what means this influence was 
 obtained, as it was clearly the interest of the 
 crafty priest to keep his art a secret, that he 
 might retain the veneration of the people, who, 
 doubtless, attributed his power over savage beasts 
 to his sanctity. It could not proceed from 
 attachment to one person, so beautifully dis~ 
 played in many species of animals, particularly 
 the elephant and the dog; because none but 
 these priests are ever able to tame the fierceness 
 of the tiger, or convert its cruel temper into 
 any thing like friendship, though taken ever so 
 
 * Williamson's Oriental Field Spirts. 
 
 young. 
 
252 
 
 young. It is, therefore, a sort of phenomenon, 
 for which Europeans cannot account. The 
 tiger is a beautiful creature, but, like the wasp, 
 whose colours are similar, it bears the iiiarks of 
 malignity in its outward appearance, which 
 serve to deter the spectator from any further 
 acquaintance than a very distant view. Whilst 
 we admire, we dread; and never desire to admit 
 him as an inmate, but in the character of a 
 slave, or a captive confined in a dungeon. 
 How different is the powerful, half-reasoning 
 elephant: he is so useful, intelligent, and 
 
 amiable, that he is treated with the kindness due 
 to a valuable friend, which he returns with a 
 fidelity and gratitude worthy of man himself. 
 Take the following story as an instance of these 
 qualities. 
 
 An elephant, which had been kept tame for 
 some years, got loose during a stormy night, 
 and rambled into his native jungles. Fouryears 
 had nearly elapsed, when a large drove of these 
 animals were trapped into an enclosure called a 
 Jceddah. It happened that the keeper of the 
 stray elephant was one, amongst many, that 
 ascended the barricade of timber by which the 
 keddab was surrounded, to inspect the prize 
 they had taken. This man fancied he saw one 
 amongst the new-caught elephants, that bore such 
 a resemblance to his former charge, that he 
 
 could 
 
*253 
 
 could not help suspecting that he had found 
 his long-lost favourite. His comrades laughed 
 at the idea, but no ridicule could deter him from 
 calling it by the name of his old acquaintance; 
 when, to the surprise of all present, the faithful 
 creature acknowledged her former master, obey- 
 ed his call, and came towards him, which so 
 overjoyed the man, that, forgetful of danger, he 
 got over the barrier, and the elephant, as if feel- 
 ing a reciprocal pleasure, laid down for his 
 master to mount. The mohout joyfully bestrode 
 his neck, and, with an exulting air, rode him 
 to his pickets*. 
 
 Mr. Hervey having occasion to purchase an 
 elephant, was offered a most majestic one, in 
 point of size, at a very low price; but he de- 
 clined the bargain, on account of a wound the 
 creature had received in the trunk, from the 
 cruel rashness of its keeper, by which it was 
 greatly disfigured, and entirely disabled from 
 the functions that member usually performs. It 
 hung down, as if incapable of motion, and hack 
 lost the power of suction, or of grasping; con- 
 sequently, the poor elephant was deprived of the 
 power of procuring his own subsistence, and was 
 wholly dependant on the attention of others. 
 In this pitiable situation, one of its own species, 
 
 * Williamson’s Oriental Field Sports. 
 
 a male 
 
a male elephant, sympathized in its distress, 
 compassionated its sufferings, and constantly- 
 prepared for it bunches of grass, fresh leaves, &c. 
 and put them into its mouth *. 
 
 Can any thing be more amiable than this 
 conduct, or more similar to an act of reason? 
 for the mere instincts of elephants could not teach 
 them to discern the consequences of their com- 
 panion’s misfortune. Rats are said to show a 
 degree of pity and sagacity nearly equal, in 
 case of one of their community becoming blind : 
 they have been seen to lead the blind rat to 
 drink, by placing a straw in its mouth, and a 
 rat at each end of it guiding their companion 
 to the water. 
 
 The sagacity of elephants, it seems, is some- 
 times employed to seduce, as well as to assist those 
 of their own kind. The females, when properly 
 disciplined, are frequently employed by the 
 mohouts, or keepers, to entrap the wild males; 
 a task that they perform with the address, clex-' 
 terity, and allurements of' a Daiilah. After 
 having completely attracted their admirer, who, 
 like Samson, seems a willing slave, the sly de- 
 ceiver contrives to amuse and divert the attention 
 of her enamorato , whilst the mohout cautiously 
 creeps, at the risk of his life, between them, and 
 
 * "Williamson’s Oiiental Field Sports. ^ 
 
 secures 
 
255 
 
 secures his prize, by confining his legs, with 
 strong fetters, to a tree. Nothing can exceed the 
 rage and resentment of the males when they 
 discover the stratagem: their love is turned into 
 the bitterest hatred. They sometimes break 
 loose, and destroy both the mohout and his 
 assistant, whom they seem to perceive was con- 
 scious of the delusion. They pursue her with 
 fury, and beat her to death with their trunks. 
 If she can outstrip her pursuer, she returns to 
 her owner, and is ready for another adventure, 
 whenever he chooses to employ her*. 
 
 Great preparations are making fur the double 
 nuptials, which are to take place in a few days. 
 The one sister has chosen to gratify her pride, 
 the other to seek for happiness : both will attain 
 their point, and will, doubtless, reap the effects of 
 their choice. Charlotte is already greatly alter- 
 ed — so reasonable, so gentle, so compliant with 
 Hervey’s taste, that she must make a good wife; 
 whilst Miss Ormond’s whole heart seems absorb- 
 ed by her title, her jewels, and equipages; but 
 not one word of the man : he is lost in the blaze 
 that surrounds him. Indeed, there is but little 
 to commend ; neither his person, manners, nor 
 morals, are praiseworthy. How can she ap- 
 proach the altar, and promise to love and 
 
 * Williamson's Oriental Field Sports. 
 
 honour 
 
£56 
 
 honour such a being? Affection seems to be 
 out of the question on both sides; nay, it is 
 scarcely professed by either. Connexion is 
 avowedty her motive— fortune is supposed to 
 be his. A sad basis for the enjoyment of mar- 
 ried life, which surely must depend upon esteem. 
 But this is not a subject for me to discuss; I 
 shall therefore bid you adieu, with renewed 
 assurances of the sincere attachment of your 
 
 Emily* 
 
 LETTER 
 
257 
 
 LETTER XXX, 
 
 FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 
 
 MY DEAR EMILY , 
 
 The fate of the sisters will probably be as 
 different as their choice : the one pursues a 
 phantom, the other a substantial good. Mrs. 
 Saville says, that one principal cause of the 
 misery that prevails in the world, arises from 
 false notions of what constitutes happiness. If 
 I place my enjoyments in a set of jewels, a conch 
 and six, a round of dissipated pleasure, or the 
 admiration of a gaping multitude, I must ex- 
 perience disappointment, because none of these 
 things possess the ingredients of happiness : they 
 may afford me a transient gleam of gratification ; 
 but they have nothing durable, nothing sub- 
 stantial, nothing essential in their nature. They 
 can confer no consolation in sickness or sorrow, 
 nor make amends for the want of that self satis- 
 faction, that can only be the result of a con- 
 sciousness of upright intentions. Few are better 
 qualified to define what happiness is, than Mrs. 
 Saville; because she enjoys as large a share of it 
 as can fall to the lot of a mortal. The retrospect 
 of her past life, and the animating hope of that 
 which is to come, shed a constant cheerfulness 
 
 over 
 
258 
 
 over her mind, that diffuses itself in benevolence 
 towards others, and is visible in all her actions. 
 The dutiful affection of her daughter, the attach- 
 ment of her friends, the fidelity of her servant, 
 the love of her neighbours — are the possessions 
 on which she sets the highest value, and secures 
 to herself by her own conduct. A woman with 
 such a taste, has no occasion for wealth, because 
 she is satisfied with those reasonable gratifica- 
 tions, which, though valuable, are not costly. 
 Do not suppose that she is of a gloomy, reserved 
 disposition : she is fond of society, and, by the 
 vivacity and interest of her remarks, forms the 
 chief ornament of that which she frequents. 
 One of her pure pleasures is the assembling of a 
 select circle of friends, amongst whom she never 
 appears to take the lead, though, by the sub- 
 jects she introduces, and her address in drawing 
 forth the talents of others, she mostly contrives 
 to give an useful turn to the conversation, and 
 direct it to that which is at once agreeable and 
 valuable. You can scarcely imagine the cheer- 
 fulness and harmony that prevail in these little 
 parties; but last night our spirits were greatly 
 damped by a gentleman who was in Ireland 
 during the rebellion, the horrors of which, so 
 disgraceful to both sides, lie detailed with a 
 minuteness that brought many shocking scenes 
 
 before 
 
before us. Amongst other anecdotes, he told a 
 story so extraordinary, that Mr. Palmer, who is 
 a most rigid exactor of the truth in relating a 
 narration, required his authority. Upon this, he 
 referred to his pocket-book, and found that he 
 had taken it from page 1GS of Gordon’s History 
 of the Rebellion. I give it you as he read it 
 from his notes. 
 
 “ The recovery of Charles Davis, of Ennis- 
 corthy, a glazier, was remarkable. After hav- 
 ing remained four days concealed in the sink cf 
 a privy, during which time he had no other 
 sustenance than the raw body of a cock, which 
 had, by accident, alighted on the seat, lie fled 
 from this loathsome abode; but was taken at 
 some distance from the town, brought to Vinegar 
 Hill, shot through the body and one of his 
 Til* ms, violently struck in several parts of the 
 head with thrusts of a pike, which, however, 
 penetrated not into the brain, and thrown into a 
 grave on his back, with a heap of earth and 
 stones over him. His faithful dog having 
 scraped away the covering from his face, and 
 cleansed it by licking the blood, he returned 
 to life, after an interment of twelve hours, 
 dreaming that pikemen were going to stab him, 
 and pronouncing the name of Father Roche, 
 by whose interference he hoped to be released. 
 
 Some 
 
260 
 
 Some superstitious persons hearing the name, 
 and imagining the man to have been revivified 
 by the favour of heaven, in order that he might 
 receive salvation from the priest, by becoming a 
 Catholic before his final departure, took him 
 from the grave to a house, and treated him with 
 such kind attention that he recovered, and is 
 now living in apparently perfect health.” 
 
 “ The man’s restoration, after such treatment, 
 would be absolutely beyond belief,” said Mr.. 
 Palmer, 66 were it not attested by an author of 
 credit, who lives within a few miles of him, and 
 seems to speak from personal knowledge. The 
 circumstance of the dog is the least surprising 
 part of the story, as there have been well authen- 
 ticated instances of similar fidelity.” A subject 
 once set agoing, acts like the electric spark, and 
 excites general sympathy. Thus, one story pro- 
 duces another. We were now entertained with 
 the following affecting narrative. u In 1789, 
 when preparations were making at St. Paul’s for 
 the reception of His Majesty, a fayourite bitch 
 followed its master up the dark stairs of the 
 dome. Here, all at once, it was missing, and 
 calling and whistling were to no purpose. Nine 
 weeks after this, all but two days, some glaziers 
 were at work in the cathedral, and heard, 
 amongst the timbers which support the dome, 
 
 a faint 
 
m 
 
 a faint noise. Thinking it might be some un- 
 fortunate human being, they tied a rope round 
 a boy, and let him down near the place whence 
 the sound came. At the bottom he found a dog 
 lying on its side, the skeleton of another dog, 
 and an old shoe half eaten. The humanity of 
 the boy led him to rescue the animal from its 
 miserable situation; and it was accordingly 
 drawn up, much emaciated, and scarcely able to 
 stand. The workmen placed it in the porch of 
 the church, to die or live, as it might happen. 
 This was about ten o’clock in the morning. 
 Sometime after, the dog was seen endeavouring 
 to cross the street at the top of Ludgate Hill ; 
 but its weakness was so great, that, unsupported 
 by a wall, he could not accomplish it. The 
 miserable appearance of the dog again excited 
 the compassion of a boy, who carried it over. 
 By the aid of the houses he was enabled to get to 
 Fleet Market, and over two or three narrow 
 crossings, in its way to Ilolborn Bridge; and 
 about eight o’clock in the evening it reached its 
 master’s house in Red Lion Street, Ilolborn, 
 and laid himself down on the steps, having been 
 ten hours on its journey from St. Paul’s to that 
 place. The dog was so much altered, the eyes 
 being sunk in the head as to be scarcely dis- 
 cernible, that the master would not at first en- 
 courage 
 
262 
 
 courage lus old faithful companion, who, when 
 lost, was supposed to weigh 20lbs. and now 
 only weighed S'lbs. 14oz. The first indication 
 it gave of knowing its master, was by wagging 
 the tail when he mentioned the name of Phillis. 
 For a long time it was unable to eat or drink, 
 and it was kept alive by the sustenance it re- 
 ceived from its mistress, who used to feed it with 
 a tea-spoon, and by her care recovered it*.” 
 The length of time this poor creature must have 
 subsisted without food, is surprising; and the 
 efforts it made in such an emaciated condition 
 to reach its master’s house, that it might die at 
 his feet, is a striking instance of that unshaken 
 attachment that the canine race show for their 
 protectors. The friendship of a dog for his 
 master, is seldom equalled by that of one man 
 for another. How many friends shrink from 
 their professions in the hour of danger, poverty, 
 and disgrace; but when his services are the most 
 wanted, the faithful dog never flinches from his 
 duty, and numerous are the examples of their 
 sacrificing their own lives in the defence of those 
 to whom they are attached. 
 
 Mr. Ciarke, who has published his travels 
 through Russia and the Crimea, had a most 
 
 * Daniel’s Rural Sports, vol. i. p. 28. 
 
 affectionate 
 
m 
 
 affectionate little pug-dog that accompanied 
 him through his long journey, enduring all the 
 Vicissitudes of heat, cold, and fatigue, with the 
 most perfect good-humour. u Though natu- 
 rally afraid of the water,” says he, u and always 
 averse from entering it, he crossed all the rivers 
 and lakes of Lapland, Sweden, and Norway, 
 after his masters; and accompanied them three 
 years in different climates, yet detesting bodily 
 exercise; and ultimately performed a journey on 
 foot, keeping up with horses, from Athens, 
 through all Greece, Macedonia, and Thrace: 
 making the tour of the Archipelago, to Con- 
 stantinople; and thence, in the same manner, 
 through Bulgaria and Wallacbia, to Bucharest !’* 
 How I should have valued an animal that had 
 followed me so far with such unwearied fidelity; 
 and though he could not articulate his feelings, 
 I should be at no loss to understand his mute 
 eloquence, and would repay it with every 
 mark of favour a dog could enjoy. He should 
 attend me in my walks, partake of my meals, 
 and repose before my fire. Rest and plenty 
 should be his portion for the remainder of his 
 days. 
 
 As I was running over some new books, lately 
 sent from London to a gentleman in our neigh- 
 bourhood, I met with the following passage, 
 
 which 
 
2 64 
 
 winch records the services of the dog so ap- 
 propriately, that 1 shall insert it. 
 
 The faithful dog, the natural friend of man, 
 
 The unequal federation first began ; 
 
 Aided the hunter in his savage toil. 
 
 And grateful took the refuse of the spoil; 
 
 Watch’d round his bed, at sleep’s unguarded hour. 
 And drove the hungry tiger from his bow’r. 
 
 In deeds of death and danger led the way. 
 
 And bled, unconquer’d, in. the doubtful fray ; 
 
 Still fought, though wounded, by his master’s side. 
 And pleas’d to save him, grasp’d his prey, and died. 
 As more the bounds of social rights expand. 
 
 And peaceful herds submit to man’s command. 
 
 Still, as a faithful minister, he shares 
 
 The shepherd’s labours, and divides his cares; 
 
 Prowls round the hill, or to the allotted plains. 
 
 The climbing goat, or wandering sheep restrains. 
 With nice discriminating nose inhales 
 The passing odours in the tainted gales ; 
 
 The wolf’s approach o’er distant mountains hears. 
 And clamorous barks, and points his list’ning ears. 
 And nearer still, as the fell savage howls. 
 
 Bristles his wavy back, and fierce defiance growls 
 
 Rachel has a most faithful dog, of the New- 
 foundland breed, that always guards us in our 
 walks, and so courageous is he, that we fear no 
 
 * Knight, on the Progress of Civil Society. 
 
 enemy 
 
enemy when lie is with us. I see him now from 
 the window, wagging his tail, and showing other 
 marks of joy, which lead me to suppose that 
 he sees Rachel with her bonnet on, waiting for 
 me to set out; I must therefore conclude, with 
 many assurances, that my fidelity and affection 
 to you, equal that of any of the four-legged 
 heroes I have been commemorating. 
 
 Caroline, 
 
§66 
 
 LETTER XXXI. 
 
 FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE, 
 
 DEAR CAROLINE , 
 
 My pen has lain dormant for some time., 
 from my engagements with Mr. and Mrs. Hervey. 
 I have been staying several weeks with them, 
 and am greatly pleased with Charlotte’s be- 
 haviour as a wife. She is exceedingly attach- 
 ed, and evidently endeavours to take delight in 
 his pursuits, by assimilating her taste to his. 
 Their house is charmingly situated on the banks 
 of a small river, that runs through the grounds; 
 and though it is neither large nor magnificent, 
 it is elegantly neat, and possesses every con- 
 venience that can promote order and comfort. 
 They live in a liberal manner, and keep the 
 best company in their neighbourhood; so that 
 they enjoy a sufficient mixture of society and 
 retirement, to give a zest to each other. When 
 we are alone, we generally enjoy our evenings 
 in strolling about the plantations; and as Mr. 
 Hervey is a naturalist, the most minute object 
 furnishes him with a theme to entertain us, 
 especially as he has visited so many climates, 
 that he often illustrates his subjects by an ac- 
 count of what he has seen in other countries. 
 
 In 
 
867 
 
 In one of our rambles along the edge of the 
 river, I perceived something at the bottom of the 
 water which had the appearance of a flower, 
 I remarked it (o my companions. Observing it 
 attentively, we found that it consisted of a cir- 
 cular assemblage of minnows: their heads all 
 met in a centre, and their tails diverging at 
 equal distances, and being elevated above their 
 heads, gave them the appearance of a flower 
 half blown. One was longer than the rest, and 
 as often as a straggler came in sight, he quitted 
 his place to pursue him ; and having driven him 
 away, he returned to it again, no other minnow 
 offering to take it in his absence. This we saw 
 him do several times. The object that had at- 
 tached them all, was a dead minnow, which 
 they seemed to be devouring*. IIow strange! 
 that they should feast on the dead body of 
 one of their own species, and that so much 
 order should be observed in the ceremony. 
 Fishes appear io have less intelligence than 
 quadrupeds or birds; at least, their facility of 
 communication with us is so much less, that we 
 cannot so readily ’--perceive the drift of their 
 actions, as those of the creatures which inhabit 
 the same element as ourselves. Quadrupeds cer- 
 tainly have the superiority above other animals, 
 
 • Hayley’s life of Cowper, Letter GOttu 
 
 n 2 man 
 
268 
 
 man excepted, in the scale of intelligence; yet 
 the elegant form, beautiful plumage, and inte- 
 resting manners of the various species of birds, 
 have made me so partial to them, that I collect, 
 with pleasure, every anecdote I can obtain of 
 their amiable instincts. Two or three present 
 themselves to my recollection at this moment, 
 which may probably amuse you. The first is 
 extracted from the Buckinghamshire Herald, 
 for Saturday, June 1, 1793, and is as follows : 
 
 Glasgow, May 23. 
 
 u In a block, or pulley, near the head of the 
 mast of a gabert now lying at the Bromiclaw, 
 there is a chaffinch’s nest and four eggs. The 
 nest was built while the vessel lay at Greenock, 
 and was followed hither by both birds. Though 
 the block is occasionally lowered for the in- 
 spection of the curious, the birds have not for- 
 saken the nest. The cock, however, visits the 
 nest but seldom, while the hen never leaves it 
 but when she descends to (he hulk for food.” 
 
 What a remarkable instance of maternal love, 
 so deeply implanted by the Great Creator, for the 
 preservation of the infant brood. The poet 
 Cowper was so pleased with the circumstance, 
 that he commemorated it in the following 
 stanzas. 
 
 A TALE. 
 
269 
 
 A TALE. 
 
 In Scotland’s realm, where trees are few, 
 
 Nor even shrubs abound ; 
 
 But where, however bleak the view, 
 
 Some better things are found. 
 
 For husband there, and wife, may boast 
 Their union undefil’d ; 
 
 And false ones are as rare, almost. 
 
 As hedge-rows in the wild. 
 
 In Scotland’s realm, forlorn and bare. 
 
 This hist’ry chanc’d of late— 
 
 This hist’ry of a wedded pair, 
 
 A chaffinch and his mate. 
 
 The spring drew near, each felt a breast 
 With genial instinct fill’d ; 
 
 They pair’d, and only wish’d a nest. 
 
 But found not where to build. 
 
 The heaths uncover’d, and the moors. 
 
 Except with snow and sleet 1 
 
 Sea-beaten rocks, and naked shores. 
 
 Could yield them no retreat. 
 
 Long time a breeding place they sought, 
 
 ’Till both grew vex’d and tir’d ; 
 
 At length a ship arriving, brought 
 The good so long desir’d. 
 
 A ship! 
 
270 
 
 A ship ! — Could such a restless thing 
 Afford them place to rest? 
 
 Or was the merchant charg’d to bring 
 The homeless birds a nest? 
 
 Hush ! silent hearers profit most !. 
 
 This racer of the sea 
 
 Prov’d kinder to them than the coast. 
 It serv’d them with a tree. 
 
 But such a tree! ’twas shaven deal : 
 The tree they call a mast; 
 
 And had a hollow with a wheel. 
 Through which the tackle pass’d. 
 
 Within that cavity aloft. 
 
 Their roofless home they fixt ; 
 
 Form’d with materials neat and soft. 
 Bents, wool, and feathers mixt. 
 
 Four iv’ry eggs soon pave the floor. 
 With russet speck bedight ; 
 
 The vessel weighs — forsakes the shore. 
 And lessens to the sight. 
 
 The mother bird is gone to sea, 
 
 As she had chang’d her kind ; 
 
 But goes the mate? — Far wiser, he 
 Is doubtless left behind. 
 
 No ! — Soon as from ashore he saw 
 The winged mansion move; 
 
 He flew to reach it, by a law 
 Of never-failing love. 
 
 Then 
 
271 
 
 Then perching at his consort’s side* 
 Was briskly borne along ; 
 
 The billows aad the blast defied. 
 
 And cheer’d her with a song. 
 
 The seaman, with sincere delight. 
 
 His feather’d shipmate eyes; 
 
 Scarce less exulting in the sight. 
 
 Than when he tows a prize. 
 
 For seamen much believe in signs. 
 And from a chance so new. 
 
 Each some approaching good divines. 
 And may his hopes be true ! 
 
 Hail! honour’d land ! a desert, where 
 Not even birds can hide; 
 
 Yet parent of this loving pair. 
 
 Whom nothing could divide. 
 
 And ye, who rather than resign 
 Your matrimonial plan. 
 
 Were not afraid to plough the brine. 
 In company with man. 
 
 To whose lean country, much disdain 
 We English often show; 
 
 Yet from a richer, nothing gain, 
 
 But wantonness and woe. 
 
 Be it your fortune, year by year. 
 
 The same resource to prove ; 
 
 And may ye, sometimes landing here, 
 Instruct us how to love ! 
 
 Tb* 
 
272 
 
 The accommodation of these poor birds to ne- 
 cessity, is a striking example of deviation from 
 instinct, under particular circumstances. I will 
 now relate a curious instance of pure instinct, 
 in which two birds act in concert, and seem ne- 
 cessary to each other, which Mr. Hervey has 
 observed in yery distant parts of the world. 
 When he was in liussia, he obtained a curious 
 account of the pelican’s mode of fishing, with the 
 assistance of the cormorant. The pelican extends 
 its wings, and troubles the water, while the cor- 
 morant, diving to the bottom, drives the fish to 
 the surface; and the pelican continuing the mo- 
 tion of its wings, advances towards the shore, 
 where the fish are taken among the shallows: 
 afterwards, the cormorant, without further cere- 
 mony, helps himself out of the pelican’s beak *. 
 
 To this surprising intelligence between these 
 two birds, he easily gave credit, because he had 
 observed something very similar, in the West 
 Indies, between the sea-pelican and a small sea- 
 gull. As he was sailing near the island of Tor- 
 tola, he repeatedly saw sea-pelicans flying over 
 the waves, and plunging into them, as if they 
 had been shot, to catch small fish ; and it gene- 
 rally happened, that before the pelican drew his 
 head out of the water, a small sea-gull perched 
 
 * Clark’s Travels in Russia, &c. 
 
 upon 
 
273 
 
 upon its back, and as soon as the fish appeared 
 in sight, snatched it out of the pelican’s mouth, 
 and flew away with the spoil *. 
 
 The care of the pelican for the preservation 
 of her eggs, is remarkable. They construct their 
 nests of rushes, and line the interior with moss, 
 or any soft herb. These nests are found on the 
 small islets of rivers, and places where moss is in 
 plenty. They lay two white egg s, about the size 
 of those of the swan, and employ the same time 
 in hatching. If disturbed while sitting, they 
 hide their eggs in the water, and take them out 
 afterwards with their bill, when they believe the 
 danger removed. They live altogether on fish, 
 and consume a prodigious quantity +. 
 
 Dr. Darwin confirms the accounts already re- 
 lated, of one sea-fowl taking fish from another, 
 by stating, from a traveller named Osbeck, that 
 the man-of-war bird, a species of pelican that 
 is not formed to catch fish, is supported by rob- 
 bing others, in the manner before described, who 
 are better qualified for the task. 
 
 Adanson, in his voyage to Senegal, relates, 
 that on the river Niger, in the way to the island 
 Griel, he saw a great number of pelicans, or 
 
 * Sir. Henry Martin, Bart, favoured me with this fact, 
 which he saw as above. 
 
 + Claries Travels* 
 
 N 5 
 
 wide-throats. 
 
sn 
 
 wide-fhroats. They moved with great state, 
 like swans, upon the water, and are the largest 
 bird next to the ostrich. The bill of one he killed 
 was upwards of a foot and a half long, and the 
 bag fastened underneath it, held twenty-two pints 
 of water. They swim in flocks, and form a 
 large circle, which they contract afterwards, 
 driving the fish before them with their legs. 
 When they have collected a sufficient quantity of 
 fish within this space, they plunge their bills, 
 wide open, into the water, and shut it again with 
 great quickness : laying up, by this means, a store 
 of fish in their capacious bag, till they have an 
 opportunity of eating it on shore. Here I ought 
 to remark, that this account may not be appli- 
 cable to every species of pelican, as there are se- 
 veral kinds, that differ from each other in size 
 and habits. 
 
 Clavigero relates, in his history of Mexico, that 
 it is a practice amongst the natives, to catch a 
 pelican, and, after breaking its wing, to tie it to a 
 tree, where it is amply supplied with fish by 
 other wild pelicans, who humanely feed their 
 wounded companion. By the time they sup- 
 pose that his bag is full, these barbarians return 
 to the place, and unmercifully rob him of his 
 treasure. 
 
 The spirit of plunder that appears in the cor- 
 morant and sea-gull, was observed by Doctor 
 
 Darwin, 
 
275 
 
 Darwin, in two crows also, which followed a 
 hawk till he had caught his prey, and then 
 compelled him to share his prize with them. 
 
 The same author relates a most ingenious ar- 
 tifice, used by more than a hundred crows, on 
 the northern coast of Ireland, which marks 
 contrivance, rather than mere instinct. These 
 crows were preying upon muscles, a kind of food 
 by no means usual with them : each crow took 
 up a muscle into the air, twenty or forty yards 
 hiirh, and let it fall on the stones with such force, 
 that the shell was broken, and the helpless fish 
 became an easy prey. 
 
 In the superficial view of nature that falls to 
 the common lot, numberless are the instances of 
 wisdom and goodness, that are found in the means 
 with which each creature is furnished, for its own 
 support and preservation — I may say, for its 
 gratification ; for there is nothing that has life, so 
 minute or so mean, that is not intended for a de- 
 gree of happiness, adapted to its power of enjoy- 
 ment. The poet says: u To enjoy, is to obey.” 
 It seems to be a universal law, that, as far as re- 
 spects rational beings, cannot be perfected with- 
 out interruptions, till we arrive at that state when 
 there shall be no more vice, sickness, or sorrow— 
 when friends shall never part, or prove faithless* 
 
 Adieu, my Caroline, 
 
 EmflYo 
 
 LETTER 
 
276 
 
 LETTER XXXII. 
 
 FROM CAROLINE TO EMII.Y. 
 
 MV DEAR FRIEND , 
 
 The taste for natural history, that we have 
 both acquired from a residence in the country, 
 seems to have great advantages. To say nothing 
 ofthe endless variety of amusement it has afforded 
 us, without any mixture of remorse, or misappli- 
 cation of time, it has led us to trace the wisdom of 
 the Great Ceator, in all his works that have fallen 
 under our observation ; for who can observe the 
 harmony between construction and habit, in the 
 animal world, and not adore the “ Hand Divine” 
 that formed them? The strength and weapons 
 of each are exactly proportioned to the enemies 
 with which it has to contend : if weak and de- 
 fenceless, their instincts lead them to avoid dan- 
 ger, by concealment or stratagem. Sometimes 
 the colour of their coats forms their security: 
 insects, and, probably, many birds, are of nearly 
 the same hue as the places they inhabit. The 
 sober plumage of green-finches and linnets, 
 nearly accord with the green leaves and brown 
 branches of trees. Several of the tribes of w ater- 
 fowl are of a light grey or ash colour, not very 
 dissimilar to that of the sea ; and it is well known, 
 
 that 
 
277 
 
 that the Siberian hare, and other inhabitants of 
 northern regions, turn white on the approach of 
 winter, when the ground, for months, is covered 
 with snow. Thus, the same end is attained by 
 different means. If the outside form and colour 
 are thus nicely adapted to the accommodation of 
 the animal, the inside is no less so: its powers of 
 digestion are suited to the food it is to consume : 
 each one has its peculiarities, that harmonize with 
 its own mode of life, and with no other. The 
 same study leads us still further : it instructs us, 
 that not their bodies only, but their dispositions, 
 inclinations, and degree of intelligence, corre- 
 spond exactly with the situation each creature is 
 to fill, and that more or less sagacity in any of 
 them, so far from increasing their happiness, 
 would disqualify them from performing their 
 respective tasks. The instincts of each tribe, of 
 whatever class, are so nicely contrived, as to 
 promote, in the best possible manner, its preserva- 
 tion and enjoyment, and demonstrate, most pow- 
 erfully, the design of an all-wise and beneficent 
 Creator, who delights to diffuse happiness to in- 
 numerable orders of beings; even to the most 
 minute, and, in our eye, inferior links of that 
 stupendous chain, that reaches from celestial 
 intelligences, to the animalculae that cannot be 
 perceived without a microscope. The mental 
 powers appear to diminish, in a sort of scale 
 
 proportioned 
 
278 
 
 proportioned to the rank of the creature that is 
 endowed with them. Man, partaking of the 
 animal nature, though endowed with the noble 
 faculty of reason, is first subject to the influence 
 of instinct. Quadrupeds, after man, are the 
 most intelligent of the lower world, and the most 
 capable of deviating from the instinctive im- 
 pulse; as is evinced by innumerable well-attested 
 instances of sagacity, that seem to be the result 
 of reflection and experience, in the horse, the 
 dog, and the half-reasoning elephant. One of 
 these occurs to my recollection, and supports rny 
 theory so completely, that I must relate it. 
 
 The late Hon. General Murray, governor of 
 Quebec, a short time before his death, when be- 
 come feeble, walking out one morning, in his 
 grounds at Beauport, near Hastings, attended 
 only by a little spaniel, fell, and was unable to 
 rise. The dog immediately ran into the house, 
 barked, and pulled the servants by their clothes; 
 but failing to gain their attention, he ran about 
 till he found a labourer, whom he succeeded in 
 leading to the spot, where the General still lay, 
 unable to rise*. Instinct alone, coukl never 
 leach him to seek assistance in this manner, to 
 raise up his fallen master. 
 
 Birds seem to hold the next rank to quadru- 
 peds; fishes to birds; and lastly, the beautiful, 
 
 Mrs. Davies Giddy. 
 
 active, 
 
active, and diminutive race of insects, appear 
 most entirely under the guidance of instinct; 
 but though, perhaps, wholly devoid of any other 
 principle of action, their structure and habits 
 well deserve the attention of the inquisitive mind, 
 which may perceive, in these little creatures, the 
 same wise adaptation of means to a certain de- 
 sign, as in the animals of greater magnitude and 
 more enlarged capacities. Some peculiarities 
 are common to them all : none have less than six « 
 feet, some, many more: they are always fur- 
 nished with antennas, which are distinguished 
 from horns by being jointed and flexible, and 
 are supposed to be the organs of some sense of 
 which we are ignorant. The head has neither 
 brain, ears, nor nostrils : most of them have two 
 eyes; spiders have eight. Leuwenhoek disco- 
 vered eight hundred lenses in a fly; and Pugett, 
 seventeen thousand three hundred and twenty- 
 five, in the cornea of a butterfly. They are fur- 
 nished with pores on the sides of their bodies, 
 through which they breathe; yet, from micro- 
 scopic examination, some of them are found to 
 possess several lungs and several hearts. Silk- 
 worms have a chain of hearts, as may be^plainly 
 seen when they become almost transparent, and 
 are near spinning. Such insects as live in com- 
 munities, like bees, ants, &c. are of three sexes. 
 Each family of bees has one female only, called 
 the queen, who is the mother of the whole hive; 
 
 many 
 
§80 
 
 many males ; and a very great number of neuters, 
 or working bees, which provide all necessaries 
 for the young brood, by collecting honey and 
 wax, building up the cells, watching the ap- 
 proach of an enemy, &c. The outside covering 
 of the bodies of insects is often hard, and sup- 
 plies the place of bones, of which, internally, 
 they are destitute. Another circumstance pe- 
 culiar to insects is, a change from one state to 
 another: from the egg is hatched the caterpil- 
 lar or maggot, which is transformed into the 
 chrysalis, from whence proceeds the fly, or per- 
 fect insect. 
 
 As insects are endowed with the various pow- 
 ers of creeping, flying, and swimming, the air, 
 earth, and water teem with them; and so minute 
 and numerous are they, that scarcely any place 
 is free from them. Trees, shrubs, leaves, and 
 flowers, are the favourite haunts of many kinds; 
 rocks, sands, rivers, lakes, and standing pools, 
 of others; whilst different tribes being appointed 
 to clear our globe from all offensive substances, 
 resort to houses, dark cellars, damp pits, rotten 
 wood, subterranean passages, putrid carcasses, 
 and the dung of animals. These little creatures, 
 so feeble, so diminutive, apparently so insignifi- 
 cant, are, nevertheless, powerful agents to bene- 
 fit or injure mankind. My ignorance will not 
 suffer me to mention half their uses; but some 
 of them serve for food, others for medicine; some 
 
 are 
 
£81 
 
 are important in the arts, and especially to the 
 dissector. The great Ruysch surprised the ana- 
 tomists of his day, by the nicety of his prepara- 
 tions, which far excelled those of all his com- 
 petitors. No one could imagine what means he 
 used for this purpose, till he acknowledged that 
 the flesh-maggot was the workman he employed, 
 by suffering it to devour the fleshy parts. In 
 their devastations, they have often destroyed the 
 hopes of the husbandman, and threatened famine 
 to a whole district. Locusts have been known 
 to darken the air, and to devour every green 
 thing, leaving destruction and terror behind 
 them. The white ants in Africa and the West 
 Indies, are very formidable, both abroad, and in 
 the house, as they spare hardly any substance 
 that comes in their way ; wood, paper, &c. are 
 devoured with undistinguishing fury. Dr. Dar- 
 W'in remarks, that the small green insect that 
 often covers the stems and leaves of plants, call- 
 ed the aphis, if its innumerable tribes were not 
 thinned by various rapacious enemies, would 
 destroy every kind of vegetable, and starve the 
 whole human race. But, by the wise appoint- 
 ment of an all-discerning Providence, it is so 
 ordered that a balance is preserved : one species 
 serves as a check upon another, and maintains 
 a due proportion. 
 
 The minuteness of insects, and the small re- 
 cesses 
 
282 
 
 cesses in which they conceal themselves, with* 
 draw them from our notice, so that the habits of 
 many of them are very imperfectly known ; yet 
 there are some particulars so curious and inte- 
 resting, mentioned by Mr. Palmer, in a lecture 
 on these little creatures, that I long to obtain 
 further knowledge about them, and am beating 
 every bush and shrub, in search of cockchafers, 
 caterpillars, flies, and moths. Could my former 
 acquaintance see me thus employed, how they 
 would ridicule my taste for pursuing such objects 
 as they behold with disgust. But we see with 
 different eyes. A spider would excite, in most of 
 them, abhorrence, if not terror. Reason and 
 habit have so overcome the prejudices of my in- 
 fancy, that I can look at them, not only without 
 apprehension, but with admiration. What can 
 deserve attention more than a spider’s web. How 
 artful its construction ! each web being adapted 
 to the place it is to fill. This little artist strength- 
 ens those lines that are too weak, by joining 
 others to the middle of them, which she attaches 
 to distant objects. These nets serve two pur- 
 poses: the first and most obvious is, that of en- 
 tangling flies, the natural prey of the spider; 
 the other, to supply the want of wings, and con- 
 vey the insect from place to place. Field spiders 
 being more exposed to the injuries of clews and 
 tempests, construct their nets with more mathe- 
 matical 
 
283 
 
 matical exactness than the house spiders: with 
 such precision is instinct accommodated to cir- 
 cumstances. 
 
 Some spiders have a dwelling, or lodging- place, 
 in the middle of the web, well contrived for 
 warmth, security, or concealment. There is a 
 large spider in South America, which forms nets 
 of so strong a texture, as to entangle small birds, 
 particularly the humming-bird. In Jamaica, 
 there is a species that digs a hole in the earth, 
 obliquely downwards, about three inches in 
 length, and one in width : this cavity the insect 
 lines with a tough, thick web, which, when 
 taken out, resembles a leathern purse. But what 
 is a still greater defence, this house has a door 
 with hinges, like the enclosure of an oyster or a 
 muscle, which is opened and shut when any of 
 the inhabitants go abroad or return home. 
 
 Many insects, if they are touched, defend 
 themselves by feigning death : they instantly 
 roll themselves up, or shrink, as it were, from 
 danger, and remain motionless a considerable 
 time. The different species of gall insects pro- 
 duce a nidus for their young; as, the thorny ex- 
 crescences on briers, the oak-apples, the lumps 
 on leaves of trees, and those on the backs of cows. 
 
 The strongest impulse, through all the insect 
 tribes, after satisfying hunger and self-defence, is 
 that of providing for their future progeny ; but, 
 
 as 
 
284 
 
 as the existence of the mother, in many kinds, 
 terminates long before the young are hatched, 
 this care cannot be attributed to affection, but to 
 an inyariable law, impressed on every individual 
 by the hand of the Creator, for the purpose of 
 preserving the species. Ichneumons display ex- 
 traordinary sagacity in the disposal of their eggs : 
 they remove them many times in a day, either 
 nearer to the surface of the ground, or deeper be- 
 low it, according as the heat or moisture of the 
 weather varies. One species of ichneumon fly 
 digs a hole in the earth, and after carrying two 
 or three living caterpillars into it, deposits her 
 eggs there, then nicely closes up the nest with 
 leaves: providing, in this artful manner, as if 
 she had foresight, warmth to hatch her young, 
 and food for their sustenance when brought to 
 life. Some ichneumons lay their eggs in the 
 backs of caterpillars, where their maggot is 
 nourished with that substance that is converted 
 into the silk thread of which the future coccoon 
 is formed. 
 
 Insects that go through several transformations, 
 often place their eggs where they may find food 
 of a different nature from that which they them- 
 selves consume; for example, butterflies lay their 
 eggs on leaves, though they eat honey ; but let 
 it be remembered, that it is a caterpillar, and 
 not a butterfly, that is to proceed from the egg. 
 
 Instinct 
 
285 
 
 Instinct teaches animals to accommodate their 
 habits to different climates. Sparrows, even in 
 this country, are said to build their nests without 
 a covering*, when placed under shelter, and with 
 one, when exposed to the weather. The small 
 birds of Europe, if in those countries where mon- 
 keys abound, change the form of their nests to 
 that of a long purse, suspended at the end of the 
 bough of a tree, to secure their young from the 
 attacks of that animal. In a part of Siam which 
 is subject to inundations, the ants form their 
 settlements on trees: no ants’ nests are to be seen 
 any where else. 
 
 Thus it appears* that instinct is an unerring 
 guide, teaching her pupils just as much as is ne- 
 cessary for them to know ; and likewise an impar* 
 tial one, for she bestows her gifts equally, on all 
 the individuals of the same species. How dif- 
 ferent from the genius and intelligence of the hu- 
 man race, amongst whom such minds as those of 
 Newton, Locke, Columbus, &c. exalt their pos- 
 sessors so much above their fellows, that they are 
 like a superior race. But a few more remark- 
 able instances of this impulse, will render my 
 letter more worthy your acceptance. 
 
 Wasps are said to catch large spiders, and 
 finding their long legs an impediment, cut them 
 off, and afterwards carry their mutilated bodies, 
 that can no longer escape, to their young. Dr. 
 
 Darwin 
 
286 
 
 Darwin relates, that lie saw a wa$p on a gravel 
 walk, that had caught a fly nearly as large as 
 himself : he separated the tail and the head from 
 that part of the body to which the wings were 
 attached : after this operation, he took the body- 
 part in his paws, and rose about two feet from 
 the ground. A gentle breeze wafting the wings 
 of the fly, turned him round in the air, and he 
 settled again with his prey upon the gravel. He 
 then cut oft' with his month, first one of the wings, 
 and then the other, after which he flew away 
 with it, undisturbed by the wind* 
 
 The same author says, that the nymphae of the 
 water-moths of our rivers, which cover themselves 
 with cases of straw, gravel, and shell, contrive 
 to make their habitations nearly in equilibrium 
 with the watefc. When too heavy, they enlarge 
 their bulk with a bit of wood or straw ; when too 
 light, they add a bit of gravel. The instinctive 
 faculty teaches them, without reasoning, to adjust 
 the weight of their frail dwelling, with that of 
 an equal bulk of water. The case of the wasp 
 and the fly seems less consistent with the uni- 
 formity of the operations of those insects. 
 
 Insects, in some instances, mistake their in- 
 stincts. At a certain season of the year, the fire- 
 flies in Jamaica are seen in the evenings in great 
 abundance. When they settle on the ground, 
 the bull-frog greedily devours them ; which has 
 
 probably 
 
287 
 
 probaby suggested the idea of destroying those 
 animals, by throwing red-hot pieces of charcoal 
 towards them, in the dusk, when they leap at 
 them, and hastily swallowing them, are destroyed. 
 In like manner, the putrid smell of the stapelia, 
 or carrion-flower, allures the large flesh-fly to 
 deposit her eggs in its beautiful petals, where 
 the young worms, when hatched, perish for want 
 of nourishment. 
 
 Long-legs, moths, and many kinds of flies, 
 mistake the light of a candle for the rays of the 
 sun, and rush into the flame, to their destruction. 
 
 In the three last examples, the intention is 
 perverted from accident ; but it is the conse- 
 quence of that invariable law bestowed for their 
 preservation. 
 
 These are a few of the innumerable displays of 
 Divine wisdom and goodness, in the various 
 classes of the minute tribes of insects ; but they 
 are sufficient to induce you to acquaint yourself 
 with more; and my letter is already so long, 
 that I shall only add, that I am, with unalterable 
 friendship, yours, 
 
 Caroline, 
 
 LETTER 
 
288 
 
 LETTER XXXIII. 
 
 FROM EMILY TO CAROLINE. 
 
 Believe, dear Caroline, that your last 
 letter afforded me much entertainment, and has 
 excited my curiosity to examine for myself into 
 the wonders of the insect world. I have bought 
 a microscope, and am already surprised at the 
 beauty of many of those tiny creatures, that I 
 have so often overlooked as ugly or insignificant. 
 I would begin to make a collection of them, but 
 I cannot resolve to put them to death merely for 
 my pleasure. I abhor the idea of inflicting 
 pain, or taking away life from any creature, 
 wantonly; and it often astonishes me to see some 
 people, otherwise humane, stamp upon a spider 
 or a beetle without repugnance. Women are 
 more tender-hearted than men, which may partly 
 be attributed to a wise provision of nature, to 
 qualify them for the maternal office. But they 
 are also indebted to education: cruelty is dis- 
 couraged in girls as unamiable, and discordant 
 with their natural character ; so that an affect- 
 ation of great sensibility has, of late years, been 
 very fashionable. Boys, on the contrary, from 
 false notions of courage and spirit, are suffered 
 to take birds’ nests, to tyrannize over horses, 
 
 and 
 
2S9 
 
 and dogs, &c. till their feelings are blunted to a 
 degree that influences their conduct the rest of 
 their lives. This prevails most where there is 
 least cultivation; consequently, we see animals 
 treated with the most unfeeling barbarity by 
 butchers, fishmongers, poulterers, draymen, cat- 
 tle-drivers, &c. But can we expect reformation, 
 whilst those who should know better, buy crimp- 
 ed fish, and deal with poulterers who pluck 
 their fowls before they are dead, which is a 
 common practice, because it is done with less 
 trouble ? The lesson of humanity to every thing 
 that breathes, should be taught from the very 
 dawn of reason, and repeated on every occasion 
 of enforcing it. Angling with worms, birds’- 
 nesting, and spinning cockchafers, arc, by the 
 unthinking, overlooked in their children as the 
 common amusements of their age; but they 
 harden the heart, and sow the seeds of a cruel 
 disposition, that is often exercised towards wives, 
 children, and servants. 
 
 My warmth on this subject is probably in- 
 creased, by the severe discipline of a horse- 
 breaker to a colt of my father’s. I remon- 
 strated day after day, but could gain no atten- 
 tion, or any other reply, than u it was necessary 
 to bring him to obedience.” Mr. Craven hap- 
 pened to call at this time: 1 renewed the subject, 
 hoping that he would unite with me in entreating 
 
 compassion 
 
 o 
 
2§0 
 
 compassion towards the poor colt. Instead of 
 this, he said he did not know how it could be 
 avoided, unless we were in possession of the secret 
 of James Sullivan, who had the art of subduing 
 the most ferocious horse in a very extraordinary 
 manner. Seeing my curiosity was excited, he 
 proceeded as follows : 
 
 “ James Sullivan, Madam, was a native of 
 the county of Cork, and an awkward, ignorant 
 rustic, of the lowest class, generally known by 
 the appellation of the Whisperer , and his pro- 
 fession was horse-breaking. The credulity of 
 the vulgar bestowed that epithet upon him, from 
 an opinion that he communicated his wishes to 
 the animal by means of a whisper; and the 
 singularity of his method gave some colour to 
 this superstitious belief. As far as the sphere 
 of his control extended, the boast of veni , vidi 9 
 vici , was more justly claimed by James Sullivan, 
 than by Caesar, or even Bonaparte himself. 
 How his art was acquired, or in what it con- 
 sisted, is likely to remain for ever unknown, as 
 he has lately left the world without divulging 
 it. His son, who follows the same occupation, 
 possesses but a small portion of the art, having 
 either never learned its true secret, or being 
 incapable of putting it in practice. The won- 
 der of his skill consisted in the short time 
 requisite to accomplish his design, which was 
 
 performed 
 
39 1 
 
 performed in private, and without any apparent 
 means of coercion* Every description of horse, 
 or even mule, whether previously broke or 
 unhandled, whatever their peculiar vices or ill 
 habits might have been, submitted, without 
 show of resistance, to the magical influence of 
 his art, and, in the short space of half an hour, 
 became gentle and tractable. The effect, though 
 instantaneously produced, was generally durable. 
 Though more submissive to him than to others, 
 yet they seemed to have acquired a docility 
 unknown before. When sent for to tame a 
 vicious beast, he directed the stable, in which he 
 and the object of the experiment were placed, 
 to be shut, with orders not to open the door 
 until a signal given. After a tete a tele between 
 him and the horse, for about half an hour, 
 during which, little or no bustle was heard, 
 the signal was made, and, upon opening the 
 door, the horse was seen lying down, and the 
 man by his side, playing familiarly with him, 
 like a child with a puppy-dog. From that 
 time he was found perfectly willing to submit to 
 any discipline, however repugnant to his nature 
 before. I once saw his skill tried on a horse, 
 which could never before be brought to stand 
 for a smith to shoe him. The day after Sullivan’s 
 half-hour lecture, I went, not without some 
 incredulity, to the smith’s shop, with many 
 o 2 other 
 
292 
 
 other curious spectators, where we were eye- 
 witnesses of the complete success of his art. 
 This, too, had been a troop horse; and it was 
 supposed, not without reason, that, after regi- 
 mental discipline had failed, no other would be 
 found availing. I observed that the animal 
 seemed afraid whenever Sullivan either spoke or 
 looked at him: how that extraordinary ascen- 
 dency could have been obtained, it is difficult 
 to conjecture. In common cases, this mysterious 
 preparation was unnecessary. He seemed to 
 possess an instinctive power of inspiring awe, 
 the result, perhaps, of a natural intrepidity, in 
 which, I believe, a great part of his art con- 
 sisted; though the circumstance of the tele a tele 
 shows that, upon particular occasions, some- 
 thing more must have been added to it. A 
 faculty like this would, in other hands, have 
 made a fortune, and great offers have been made 
 to him for the exercise of his art abroad ; but 
 hunting, and attachment to his native soil, w 7 ere 
 liis ruling passions. He lived at home, in the 
 style most agreeable to his disposition, and 
 nothing could induce him to quit Duhallow and 
 the fox-hounds*.” 
 
 * Rev. Horatio Townsend’s Survey of the County of 
 Cork. This gentleman remarks, that though the above facts 
 appear almost incredible, they are nevertheless indubitably 
 true, and lie was ail eye-witness of their truth. P. 438. 
 
 When 
 
293 
 
 When Mr. Craven had come to the termi- 
 nation of his story 5 my father, who is rather 
 incredulous, cried out: “ Well, Craven, there 
 are many unaccountable things that are true; 
 but I would not have believed this, if you had 
 not seen it yourself.’ ’ 
 
 From Sullivan, and his wonderful powers, 
 the conversation turned upon the sagacity of 
 horses. In a wild state they live in troops, and 
 when hunted by the Tartars, set watches to 
 prevent being surprised, and have commanders, 
 who direct and hasten their flight. In this 
 country, in a domesticated stale, when several 
 horses travel in a line, the first always points 
 his ears forward, and the last points his back- 
 ward; whilst the intermediate ones appear to be 
 quite careless in this respect, as if they trusted to 
 the vigilance of their companions at each end of 
 the line, to listen to any sound of danger, either 
 behind or before. Is this instinct, or a pre- 
 concerted measure? 
 
 There are some parts of a horse which he 
 cannot reach to rub when they itch, particularly 
 about the shoulder, which lie can neither bite 
 with his teeth, nor .scratch with his hind foot. 
 When this part itches, lie goes to another horse, 
 and gently bites him in the part which he wishes 
 to be bitten ; a kind office that is immediately 
 performed by his intelligent companion. An 
 
 attentive 
 
294 
 
 attentive observer of nature* once remarked a 
 young foal bite its mother for this purpose. 
 The mare did not choose to drop the grass she 
 had in her mouth, and, instead of biting it, 
 merely rubbed her nose against the foal’s neck ; 
 from whence he inferred, that it was reflection, 
 rather than instinct, that taught her to rub where 
 she was bitten. 
 
 In the extensive moorlands of Staffordshire, 
 the horses stamp upon the gorze furze with their 
 fore feet, in order to break the points of their 
 thorns, which renders it convenient to eat; 
 whereas, in more fertile parts of the country, 
 horses take no such precaution, from want of 
 experience, as it appears, but when they jittempt 
 to feed on this shrub, prick themselves till their 
 mouths bleed. 
 
 Next to the elephant, I think the horse the 
 most noble, generous, useful creature, that man 
 renders subservient to his will, though, perhaps, 
 a Laplander would prefer the rein-deer, or an 
 Arab the camel; but I am not so well acquainted 
 W'ith their dispositions, though I acknowledge 
 their usefulness in their respective countries. 
 
 Of all domestic animals, swine are the least 
 pleasing; yet Mr. Craven assures me that we are 
 apt to regard them as stupid, merely from the 
 
 * Dr, Darwin. 
 
 forbidding 
 
295 
 
 forbidding appearance of their exterior form, 
 and their disagreeable habits of wallowing in the 
 mire, and eating any kind of food without dis- 
 crimination. He says that they have more 
 intellect than is generally supposed : that nature 
 has bestowed on them a sense of touch, as well 
 as smell, at the end of the nose, which they use 
 as we do our hands, both to root up the soil, 
 and to examine any thing eatable that comes in 
 their way. In our uncertain climate, experience 
 teaches them to collect straw in their mouths, 
 to make their nest, when the wind blows cold, 
 and to assemble their companions, by repeated 
 calls, to assist in the work, and add to their 
 warmth by lying close together. 
 
 Mr. Craven finished his vindication of the 
 swinish race, by the following 
 American sow. fills animal passed iicr dnjis 
 in the woods, with a numerous litter of pigs ; 
 but returned rep-ularlv 1,jp in the even- 
 
 mg, to share with her family a substantial 
 supper. One of her pigs was, however, quietly 
 slipt away to be roasted: in a day or two 
 afterwards, another; and then a third. It 
 would appear that this careful mother knew the 
 number of her offspring, and missed those that 
 were taken from her ; for after this, she came 
 alone to her evening meal. This occurring re- 
 peatedly, she was watched coming out of the 
 
 wood, 
 
296 
 
 wood, and observed to drive back ber pigs from 
 its extremity, grunting with much earnestness, 
 in a manner so intelligible, that they retired at 
 her command, and waited patiently for her 
 return. It is evident that creatures far excelling 
 the swine in sagacity, do not appear to miss an 
 inferior number of their young, or take any 
 precautions for their safety. 
 
 The two married couple proceed as might 
 be expected. Charlotte Hervey is happy, and 
 daily improving in her character : she no longer 
 thinks the country dull, or sighs for a round of 
 company. Her time is well filled up in domes- 
 tic duties; and in cultivating her mind, that she 
 may please her husband, and qualify herself for 
 his companion. Nor is she wholly inattentive 
 to iTic-rrt^- ii t ^ DOOr<s though she is not yet 
 a Mrs. Savilie:— she wants resolution to visit 
 their ill-accommodated dwellings, and see the 
 misery that too oOp n concealed under their 
 roofs. A sick bed is too melancholy an oojc^v 
 for her sensibility; but as she grows less selfish, 
 I trust she will sympathize more with others, 
 and be willing to subdue her own feelings, that 
 she may afford consolation where it is wanted. 
 Her sister and her lord live in a very hostile 
 manner ! their disputes have already run very 
 high. She finds he is greatly in debt, and that 
 her fortune must go to satisfy his creditors. He 
 
 continues 
 
§97 
 
 continues to lead a life of profligacy, and treats 
 her with no attention, but rather with contempt, 
 as one he submitted to marry for the sake oflier 
 purse. Her ungoverned temper cannot bear 
 this neglect: she flies to dissipation for comfort, 
 but finds none. Both game; — each reproaches 
 the other, till indifference degenerates into 
 hatred. Separation is proposed, and will pro- 
 bably be adopted. Can a title make amends 
 for all this misery ? Her haughty spirit will 
 not suffer her to acknowledge that grandeur is 
 no compensation for happiness; yet it does not 
 require an eagle’s eye to discern the traces of 
 wretchedness in her countenance. 
 
 It is said that the estates of Mr. Campbell, in 
 the West Indies have sold for a much larger 
 sum than was expected, and that his affairs 
 bear a very favourable aspect. How sincerely 
 should I rejoice, were he able to repay your 
 fortune, and recal you from your long banish- 
 ment from your most affectionate friend, 
 
 EmilYo 
 
 o5 
 
 LETTER 
 
298 
 
 LETTER XXXIV. 
 
 FROM CAROLINE TO EMILY. 
 
 DEAR EMILY , 
 
 The report you heard of Mr. Campbell’* 
 prosperity is true. Several things, besides the 
 advantageous sale of his West Indian property, 
 have contributed to make him, once more, a man 
 of fortune; particularly the death of his eldest 
 brother, who, being a rich bachelor, has left him 
 a considerable sum of money. These circum- 
 stances, uniting with his own exertions and skill 
 in business, have reinstated his affairs, and en- 
 abled him to repay me what is my due. I had 
 a letter from him last week, in which he informs 
 me of these particulars, and, in the kindest man- 
 ner, invites me to return to his house, where he 
 assures me I shall always find an affectionate 
 home. This proposal I cannot accept, though 
 I feel very grateful for that, and many former 
 marks of paternal regard. Yet the sacrifice would 
 be too great. The alteration in my taste and 
 habits, has unfitted me for a town life; and my 
 attachment to Mrs. Saville is so great, I would 
 not quit her for the wealth of India, especially as 
 she will shortly be deprived of the society of her 
 dear Rachel, who is on the point of giving her 
 
 hand 
 
S99 
 
 hand to Mr. Henry Palmer. The match is very 
 agreeable to Mrs. Saville, but Rachel will live at 
 twenty miles’ distance. I shall be a poor substi- 
 tute for such a daughter; yet every thing that 
 tenderness, respect, and filial affection can in- 
 spire, I shall fulfil, as the most delightful task of 
 my life. The sense of pecuniary obligation has 
 long been the only allay to my enjoyment : this 
 unexpected change of circumstances relieves me 
 from this uneasiness, and enables me to render 
 Mrs. Saville’s situation affluent. I have no other 
 pleasure in riches, but sharing them with these 
 dear friends. I am under the necessity of coming 
 to London, to take possession of my property, 
 but shall wait till the marriage is over, when my 
 aunt and cousins will accompany me. It will not 
 be more than a fortnight before I shall be with 
 you; of course, our correspondence will cease till 
 my return, when we must once more be con- 
 tented with this kind of communication, unless 
 you will be induced to try the retirement of a 
 Welsh cottage, and take up your abode with us 
 for a few months; a proposal that I hope you 
 will not refuse. But I believe you will be easily 
 persuaded to accept it, when you are acquainted 
 with my Cambrian friends. I shall then enjoy as 
 much felicity as is to be found, when surround- 
 ed by all I love best; and already anticipate tha 
 delightful rides, walks, and conversations, we 
 
 shall 
 
300 
 
 shall have together. Our friends, the Palmers, 
 will join our society, and complete our intellec- 
 tual entertainment. 
 
 As instinct has so long been my theme, I shall 
 terminate our correspondence with some remarks* 
 on that subject, by Mr. Palmer, which are the 
 result of observation, and have afforded me much 
 gratification. It is matter of curious speculation, 
 to consider how the instinct of animals grows 
 weaker, in proportion to their closer approxi- 
 mation towards mankind and their dwellings. 
 
 The beaver, the carcasou, and many other 
 animals in their entire savage state, when seldom 
 approached by human beings, seem to have the 
 dominion of the wild, and to exercise a degree 
 of forethought and wisdom, both in procuring 
 what is necessary, and in avoiding what is dan- 
 gerous, that appears incredible to those, who, 
 living in a cultivated country, have no means of 
 tracing the progress of this wonderful sagacity. 
 The cause of this faculty becoming more obtuse, 
 when animals are, to a certain degree, associated 
 with man, when they enjoy his protection and 
 inhabit his domains, is sufficiently obvious. Na- 
 ture, both liberal and frugal, always does enough 
 to obtain her purpose, but resumes her gifts 
 when no longer useful. This applies particularly 
 
 * I am indebted to Mrs, Grant for these remarks. 
 
 to 
 
301 
 
 to those animals which we merely protect and 
 fatten, without expecting from them any ser- 
 vices that require a recollection of the past, an- 
 ticipation of the future, or, in short, any exercise 
 of those powers which do not, like instinct, ope- 
 rate uniformly, but are rather a kind of borrowed 
 light from the rational powers of the thinking 
 and governing nature. Kine, for instance, in a 
 wild state, possess an acuteness, both of sight and 
 smell, and a spirit and fierceness in defending 
 their young, which entirely disappears when, 
 by domestication, we have reduced them to a 
 condition in which the former of these qualities 
 would be of no value, and the latter, dangerous 
 to themselves and others. In their wild state, 
 they distinguish by the smell, the grass where 
 the footsteps of man are to be traced, and par- 
 ticularly that where any person has sat or lain, 
 with symptoms of the utmost rage and horror. 
 
 This degradation of the natural instincts, is 
 apparent in sheep, goats, fowls, &c. In horses 
 and dogs too, they are much diminished; but 
 here is a wonderful substitute provided, in that 
 borrowed light formerly mentioned. It is not to 
 feed upon them, but to make their strength, their 
 diligence, their sagacity and attachment, sub- 
 servient to various important purposes, that we 
 tame and teach those generous and affectionate 
 animals. And here 1 must pause, to observe the 
 
 wise 
 
3 02 
 
 wise order of Providence, in setting certain limits 
 to the dominion of man, over the subordinate 
 creatures. Those which, from their habits or 
 the peculiar conformation of their bodies, are not 
 fitted to love us, or labour in our service, as the 
 dog and the horse, or to clothe or feed us, as 
 kine, sheep, and poultry, resist all our efforts to 
 domesticate them, by refusing to continue their 
 species in that state of imprisonment and degra- 
 dation to which we would subject them. All 
 those whom their nature and instincts peculiarly 
 fit for consuming the waste fertility of the un- 
 trodden forests, or for pursuing their prey where 
 the hot and enervating climate might sink the 
 inhabitants into unmanly softness, without such 
 an enemy to stimulate their courage and prompt 
 their vigilance; such animals refuse the yoke of 
 subjection, and, in confinement, their instinct 
 decays, or appears in some mode useless to them- 
 selves, and pernicious to others, of which many 
 instances might be given. 
 
 The beaver, in particular, in his native state, 
 is superior in forethought, and something like 
 intelligence, to every inhabitant of the wild. 
 He is politic, vigilant, social, and, one might 
 almost add, patriotic, when his incessant labours 
 for the public good are considered. He is most 
 industrious, and most versatile in the modes of 
 his industry; being, by turns, a labourer, a 
 
 wood -cutter, 
 
303 
 
 wood-cutter, a plasterer, a house-builder, and a 
 frugal and provident caterer : he is a centinel too, 
 occasionally ; and, in self-defence, a soldier. No 
 difficulties discourage, no toils exhaust him : pa- 
 tient and indefatigable beyond all example, he 
 sees the labour of years, those immense trees 
 which have been formed into barriers seemingly 
 immoveable, by the incredible strength and un- 
 wearied exertions of the whole community ; he 
 sees these monuments of his toil swept away by 
 the floods, and instantly begins, with renewed 
 and undaunted activity, to repeat, for the same 
 purpose, the same labours. Behold this power- 
 ful artificer in a state of captivity : (for that can- 
 not be termed subjection, where there is neither 
 obedience nor docility :) no creature can be more 
 awkward or unsightly, or seemingly less adapted 
 to serve or to please. Those strong, short legs, 
 and that sideling gait, which were so well adapted 
 for assisting his associates in dragging the trees 
 they had previously felled, make him appear 
 more ungainly than can be easily conceived. 
 The trowel tail seems to drag on the ground, as 
 a useless incumbrance ; and, from its flat, broad 
 form, and naked surface, suggests the idea of 
 something amphibious. Thus odd and unpleas- 
 ing in its appearance, its habits are not more 
 captivating. The fine instinct which exalts it in 
 a wild state above other animals, seems degraded 
 
 or 
 
SO 4 
 
 or perverted. The only distinction it shows its 
 master, is forbearing to bite him, which it is very 
 ready to do to strangers, ft will follow him in 
 the uncouth manner I have described, and, from 
 the habit of ceaseless industry that it has ac- 
 quired in a state of liberty, works, except in the 
 depth of winter, the whole night long. When 
 wild, it collects food in the day, and cuts and 
 drags wood in the night. When tamed, which 
 can only be done by taking it whilst very young, 
 it is necessary, on account of its restlessness, to 
 leave it out in the yard. There it employs itself 
 the whole night, in carrying fire-wood from the 
 pile, and blocking up the door with it. So that 
 when the family rise in the morning, they find 
 themselves barricaded with a quantity of wood, 
 that takes no small time to remove. 
 
 From what has been already said, it appears 
 that the sagacity of animals is in its highest per- 
 fection, in the two extremes of utter estrangement 
 from man, or that intimate familiarity with him 
 which results partly from sharing his pursuits 
 and occupations. In the former case, being 
 entirely unaided and unprotected by human 
 power and intelligence, more sagacity is requisite 
 to provide for its wants, and shun or conquer its 
 enemies. In the latter, while receiving kindness, 
 and a sort of culture from his master, the reci- 
 procation of good offices, as well as the similarity 
 
 of 
 
of pursuits, in which the clog anti horse, for in- 
 stance, are associated with the shepherd and the 
 hunter, seems to enlighten the former with a ray 
 of human reason, and warm them with a degree 
 of human affections. It is in that intermediate 
 state, when the animal has lost the wild freedom 
 of the forest, — when it is become the slave of man, 
 without acquiring the privilege of being his 
 friend and companion — that instinct languishes, 
 ■without being replaced or improved by that 
 borrowed beam from human intelligence, to 
 which I have so often alluded. Man, born lord 
 of the inferior creatures, with powers to conquer 
 the strong and circumvent the subtle, is himself 
 m\ example of this interregnum. That languid, 
 enfeebled state of the faculties, when neither sti- 
 mulated by necessity, as in a state of unrestrained 
 freedom and independence, nor cultivated by su- 
 perior intelligence, when relieved from the pres- 
 sure of the former condition. The savage, when 
 Mvtvanced to a ^ uk*the 
 
 beaver or the bee, he forms part of a community 
 
 guilds a habitation, and provides for future 
 wants. In this period ot advancement, the 
 savage, whose life of perpetual exigencies keeps 
 all his inferior faculties in continual exercise; 
 who knows no restraint, hopes for nothing but 
 what he can easily attain, and fears no enemy 
 but such as he is accustomed to subdue; such 
 
306 
 
 a savage, though his rational powers cannot be 
 said to be unfolded — though he has not attained 
 to the privileges, or assumed the dignity of which 
 reasoning man is capable — is still a noble animal, 
 in comparison with the enslaved and unenlight- * 
 ened peasants, who groan, in many parts of the 
 world, under the iron hand of oppression ; with- 
 out being visited by the light that leads to hea- 
 ven, or exalted by the arts that promote our ease s 
 and comfort in the present life. The savage is 
 more quick of apprehension, more swift of foot, 
 more acute in all his senses, more dexterous, 
 more ingenious; in short, much better qualified 
 to supply his own wants, procure his own enjoy- 
 ments, and resist physical evils of every kind. 
 
 Nor in the blended proportion of physical 
 and intellectual powers, does man, in this en- 
 slaved and un instructed state, bear the same 
 rank among his fellow-men, as animals domes- 
 ticated, yet not caressed or cultivated, do among 
 their fbH^vv-cinuntiis. i Know on iy one instance 
 
 in which an example may be found of the wild 
 instinct being little impaired, and a kind of 
 borrowed intelligence superadded. This is the 
 Highland cattle, whose wide, free range in the 
 mountains, is calculated to cherish their native 
 instinct; and were it not for early domestic 
 education, would be apt to restore them to. 
 their primitive habits. But the severity of the 
 
 winter, 
 
307 
 
 winter, and the scarcity of provender, oblige 
 the poor people to nurse the breeders, and even 
 the last year’s calves, with great tenderness. In 
 this case, affection becomes grafted on interest. A 
 poor man, who has, at most, only three milch 
 cows and a couple of stirks, as they call the last 
 year’s calves, that they may be kept warm and 
 well tended, keeps them under his own roof. 
 They are placed in the further end of the house, 
 divided from the rest by a very slight screen of 
 sticks and clay, and often in a situation where 
 they always are within view of their owners. 
 A few sheep and a little horse excepted, these 
 creatures are all their worldly wealth, and there- 
 fore the chief objects of their solicitude. Not 
 content with almost starving themselves, to pur- 
 chase food for them in years of scarcity, they 
 caress and talk to them, in a voice so soothing, 
 and language so endearing, and the animals 
 seem so conscious and so grateful, and become 
 so very much a part of the family, that it is 
 affecting to see the mutual kindness that subsists 
 between them. Yet it is surprising that animals 
 so wild and lively in all their motions, should 
 be susceptible of such lasting impressions, and 
 retain so perfect a recollection of all their friends, 
 after six months’ absence in the mountains. 
 When thus kindly spoken to, stroked, and 
 caressed, they express their complacence by a 
 
 peculiar 
 
SOS 
 
 peculiar kind of breathing*, that gives the idea 
 of placid content. Nor is this the only expres- 
 sion of their sensibility. On meeting their old 
 acquaintance after a long absence, they greet 
 them with plaintive lowings. They acquire a 
 taste for music, too, whilst dwelling in these 
 vocal cottages, where the voice of song is so 
 frequently heard. This rural melody certainly 
 calms the irritation produced by heat and insects 
 in a summer’s evening, when, without it, they 
 could not be milked with safety. This is a fact 
 so well established, that a girl is not thought lit 
 for a dairy-maid unless she can sing; and if it 
 so happens, in some rare instance, that one who 
 has no power of voice is selected for this em- 
 ployment, she takes another with her who can 
 sing, to assist in milking, and to lull the fold 
 with the wonted strains that are peculiar to this 
 avocation ; the theme of which is generally either 
 the habits of cattle, their favourite summer 
 haunts, or the simple adventures of those who 
 attend them. Thus fondled, and made at one 
 period, as it were, a part of society, and at 
 another let loose to the boundless range of the 
 summer pastures, they are in some degree cul- 
 tivated, and retain much of the instinctive 
 faculty, without any of the ferocity, of the wild 
 animal of the same species. They will recognise, 
 after a long absence, and fondly caress their 
 
 own 
 
309 
 
 own calves, after they have become mothers of 
 another race; and even caress the young of those, 
 from fondness for the parent, who has been so 
 long estranged from them. Many instances of 
 the sagacity of these creatures are well authenti- 
 cated by those who reside in the country, which, 
 by the inhabitants of other parts, would be 
 deemed incredible. One, however I shall men- 
 tion, as having fallen under the inspection of 
 a particular friend*, on whose veracity I can 
 rely. 
 
 The whole country near Laggan, where my 
 friend lived, was uninclosed. When he took pos- 
 session of his farm, there was hardly a march 
 dyke, as division fences are called there. A 
 mere slight, ideal boundary, or, at most, marked 
 by a range of stones, separated his fields from 
 those of his neighbours. This gentleman had .a 
 lead-coloured bull, who was a beautiful creature 
 of his kind, and grazed with the cows in the open 
 meadows. It was the constant occupation of a 
 boy, kept for the purpose, to watch the milch 
 cows and their guardian, lest they should tres- 
 pass on his neighbour's fields, and destroy his 
 corn. This boy was fat and drowsy, and was 
 often found asleep on his post; an offence as 
 
 Mrs. Grant, when resident at Laggan. 
 
 unpardonable 
 
310 
 
 unpardonable in a Highland herd, as in a 
 centinel. The ploughman, provoked at the 
 frequency of this fault, chastised the boy when- 
 ever the cattle trepassed. The boy, enraged at 
 this, kept a long switch, and with it revenged 
 himself, with an unsparing hand, if they ex- 
 ceeded their boundary. The bull seemed to 
 have observed, with concern, this consequence 
 of their transgression, and acted upon his ob- 
 servation. He had no horns, as is frequently 
 the case with northern cattle ; but then he had 
 a hard and powerful forehead, with which he 
 used to strike the cows, and punish them severely 
 if any one attempted to cross the limit, or in any 
 way trespass. In the mean time, he set them 
 the example of perfect self-denial, never once 
 entering the forbidden bounds, and placing 
 himself before the cows in a threatening attitude, 
 if they presumed to approach it. At length 
 his honesty and vigilance became so obvious, 
 that the boy was employed in weeding and 
 other business, without fear of their misbe- 
 haviour in his absence. This fine animal’s 
 vigilance could only proceed from a desire to 
 keep his companions from punishment, not from 
 any distinction of property. 
 
 With this extraordinary account I close ray 
 letter and my correspondence; at the same time, 
 
 fully 
 
311 
 
 fully impressed with the expectation of very 
 shortly enjoying the pleasure of your convers- 
 ation, which will be better than a hundred 
 letters. 
 
 Till we meet, and ever afterwards, your sin- 
 cere and affectionate friend, 
 
 7 l J * - , ‘ 4 * l 
 
 Caroline. 
 
 ; jZHlt&U Vf\} 
 
 THE END* 
 
 iP t inted by Barton , Harvey , and Co. 
 ( r racer h urch -St reef , Lendo n . 
 
THE LIBRARY Of THE 
 
 JUM 1933 
 
 piVt-fiSlTY OF ILLINOIS, 
 

 
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