ANECDOTES OF DOGS.

"They are honest creatures.'-Otway.

WE had been taxing our memory and our reading for anecdotes of the dog, when, fortunately, a most amusing volume on the subject, from the pen of Captain Thomas Brown, made its appearance. Our resources are, therefore, ample, for we shall not disdain to borrow from others; but, as naturalists have not agreed respecting the classification of these animals, we shall not pretend to be methodical in our arrangement: we undertake to deal only in anecdote, and shall very willingly leave to others the task of explaining the origin of the dog. We shall not stop to inquire if his name is to be found in Adam's catalogue, or if the first of his race claimed the fox or the wolf for his sire. Cuvier thinks it must have been either: we think differently, and for this reason: the production of so useful an animal could not have been left to an unnatural conjunction. The dog has ever been the companion of man, and is the only friend on whom he can always calculate with certainty. In our state of civilization we can hardly estimate his value in ages of rudeness. Daniel bids us suppose that he never existed, and what then? VOL. 11. Aug. 1829.

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wild animals had never been tamed, and population could not have increased for want of so ample a provider and so diligent a guardian.

Captain Brown, with great apparent justice, claims for the dog the high privilege of reason, and states several things which seem to establish, at least, the possession of superior intelligence. In Dumfries, for instance, there is a dog who can speak. His name is Wellington, his size moderate, his shape handsome, and he is usually denominated the Dutch pug. The editor of the Dumfries Courier' declares, most solemnly, that he heard him repeatedly pronounce the word William, almost as distinctly as ever it was enunciated by the human voice. About a fortnight ago (January, 1829), he was lying on a rug before the fire, when one of his master's sons, whose name is William, to whom he is more obedient than to any body else, happened to give him a shove, and then the animal ejaculated, for the first time, the word William ! The whole fireside were as much amazed as Balaam was when his ass spoke; and, though they could hardly believe their own ears, one of them exclaimed, 'Could you really find it in your heart to hurt the beast, after he has so distinctly pronounced your name?' This led to a series of experiments, which have been repeated for the satisfaction of various persons; but still the animal performs with difficulty. When his master seizes his fore-legs, and commands him to say William, he treats the hearer with a gurring voluntary; and after this species of music has been protracted for a longer or a shorter period, his voice seems to fall a full octave before he comes out with the important dissyllable.

Some years ago,' says Capt. Brown, a gentleman of Queen's College, Oxford, went to pass the Christmas recess at his father's, in the country. An uncle, a brother, and other friends, were one day to dine together. It was fine frosty weather, and the two young gentlemen, unattended by any but a greyhound, went out for a forenoon's recreation, and one of them took his skaits with him. While the friends were beginning to long for their happy return, the greyhound came home at

full speed. By his apparent anxiety, his laying hold of their clothes to pull them along, and by all his gestures, he convinced them that something was wrong They followed the greyhound, and came to a piece of water frozen over. A hat was seen on the ice, near which was a fresh aperture. The bodies of the young gentlemen were soon found, but, alas! no life could be restored by any human means. The gentleman of Oxford, who was designed for holy orders, was a person who, from his sobriety, amiable and studious disposition, and excellent genius, had given every reason to expect that he would soon have been an ornament to his profession. Yet the sagacity of his dog, in every respect equal to, or the same as that mentioned by Dr. Beattie, was not a supernatural impression, or an interposition of Providence, otherwise it would not have been too late in saving so valuable a life.'

Mr. Blaine relates the following circumstance:-'I remember watching a shepherd boy in Scotland, who was sitting on the bank of a wide but shallow stream. A sheep had strayed to a considerable distance on the other side of the water; the boy, calling to his dog, ordered him to fetch that sheep back, but to do it gently, for she was heavy in lamb. I do not affect to say that the dog understood the reason for which he was commanded to perform this office in a more gentle manner than usual; but that he did understand he was to do it gently was very evident, for he immediately marched away through the water, came gently up to the side of the sheep, turned her towards the rest, and then they both walked quietly, side by side, to the flock. I was scarcely ever more pleased at a trifling incident in rural scenery than this.'

A butcher and cattle-dealer who resided about nine miles from the town of Alston, in Cumberland, bought a dog of a drover. This butcher was accustomed to purchase sheep and kine in the vicinity, which, when fattened, he drove to Alston market and sold. In these excursions he was frequently astonished at the peculiar sagacity of his dog, and at the more than common rea

diness and dexterity with which he managed the cattle, till at length he troubled himself little about the matter, but, riding carelessly along, he used to amuse himself with observing how adroitly the animal acquitted himself of his charge. At last, so convinced was he of his sagacity as well as fidelity, that he wagered he would intrust him with so many sheep and so many oxen to drive alone and unattended to Alston market. It was stipulated that no person should be within sight or hearing who had the least control over the dog; nor was any spectator to interfere, nor be within five hundred yards. On trial, this extraordinary animal proceeded with his business in the most steady and dexterous manner; and although he had frequently to drive his charge through other herds which were grazing, yet he never lost one, but, conducting them into the very yard to which he was used to drive them when with his master, he significantly delivered them up to the person appointed to receive them, by barking at his door. What more particularly marked the dog's sagacity was, that when the path on which the herd travelled lay through a spot where others were grazing, he would run forward, stop his own drove, and then, driving the others away, collect his scattered charge and proceed. He was several times afterwards thus sent alone for the amusement of the curious, or the convenience of his master, and always acquitted himself in the same adroit and intelligent manner. The story reached the ears of a gentleman travelling in that neighbourhood, who bought the dog for a considerable sum of money.

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'Mr. Peter Macarthur,' says Capt. Brown, informs that in the year 1821, when opposite to Falmouth, he was at breakfast with a gentleman, when a large Newfoundland dog, all dripping with water, entered the room, and laid a newspaper on the table. The gen tleman (who was one of the Society of Friends) informed the party that this dog swam regularly across the ferry every morning, and went to the post-office and fetched the papers of the day.'

In detailing anecdotes creditable to the sagacity of dogs we should not forget those attached to the monas

tery of Mount St Bernard. Mr. Murray, who saw them, says, they are quite peculiar, of large size and fawn colour.

He adds, there now remain two old dogs and one female; the latter is a very fine and healthy animal, one of the former was ill; there were, besides, three puppies of about eighteen months old, very lively and good-natured: the young were eager to fondle with us, but the others were more reserved. Our superior informed us that they had the misfortune to lose three of these invaluable animals in 1816, by the fall of an avalanche. At night they sally forth among the snows of the mountains, and the dog, which may be called chefguide, carries a blanket buckled round his body, with a small supply of provisions, and a phial of brandy attached to the neck: thus equipped he presents himself to the perishing wanderer, and suffers himself to be unloaded for his benefit, and then, as his pioneer, conducts him to the Hospice, where all his wants are speedily relieved. Should an individual be found to have sunk from exhaustion, the dogs return to the convent, and apprize the inmates of the circumstance by their bark, who then join the dogs with a litter, &c. and are immediately led by them to the spot where the unfortunate wanderer lies.

'It was computed that the dog Barry had been thus the means of saving forty persons from destruction. The most remarkable part of his eventful story, was that of bringing an infant to the convent on his back, whom he had found among the snow, and who was subsequently an inmate in the orphan asylum at Geneva. It is conjectured that the parent had either fallen over some precipice, or been buried in the snow, and, in all probability, the infant, from the intense cold, must have been found in a state of suspended animation, the dog having restored him by licking the face with his warm tongue. This can be but conjecture, but, in all probability, it must have been the case. Barry has been dead some years, and is stuffed and preserved in the museum of Berne, with the identical phial attached to his neck in which he carried the brandy.'