29% Retrospective Criticism. 



J. M., at p. 77., says, " The stoat (Mustek erminea) does not change it» 

 colour here, as in the northern parts of the world." Unless J. M. means 

 to include Yorkshire in the " northern parts of the world," which I pre- 

 sume he does not, allow me to say, that I possess a specimen of the stoat, 

 which, with the exception of the black tip at the end of the tail, and a 

 streak of brown on each cheek, is entirely white ; such a change of colour 

 in the winter is by no means uncommon in the north of Yorkshire, all the 

 specimens I have seen in that season being more or less white. — M. P. 

 January 10. 1832. 



The Stoat (Miistela erminea). — J. M. says, on p. 77., " that the stoat is 

 more timid than the weasel, and that it does not change its colour, as in 

 the more northern parts of the world." I know not why he calls it 

 timid, even relatively, as I think it the most fearless wild animal we have 

 in the kingdom ; in proof of which, I will mention an incident that 1 wit- 

 nessed myself. I one day saw a stoat carrying oiF a large rat it had killed, 

 and I immediately pursued it ; but it stuck so tenaciously to its prey (al- 

 though it was so encumbered with its load as to be scarcely able to run at 

 all) that I was close upon it before it would abandon it ; however, it then 

 took refuge in a wall that happened to be close by. I took up the rat, and 

 the stoat put its head out of the wall, spitting and chattering, with every 

 appearance of the most lively indignation against me for having so unjustly 

 robbed it of a lawful prize. I amused myself with watching it for some 

 time ; and then, beuig desirous of seeing how far its evident desire to 

 recapture its booty would overcome its fear of me, I held the rat just 

 before the hole in which it was ; when, after several attempts, in which its 

 discretion got the better of its valour, it at length screwed up its courage 

 to the sticking place, came boldly out of the wall, and dragged it out of my 

 hand into its hole. I know not in what county J. M. lives, nor do I know 

 whether he means to inckide any part of England in the more northern 

 parts of the world, but I do know that it is white in the winter in York- 

 shire, as I have caught, and still more frequently seen, specimens of this 

 colour. — T. G. Clitheroe, La7icashire, January 17. 1832. 



The Stoat (p. 77.). — In this county, Cambridgeshire, the stoat does 

 sometimes change its coat, and assume the perfect dress of the ermine, as 

 two fine specimens in the museum of our Philosophical Society will testify* 

 — J. S. Henslow. Cambridge y February 14. 1832. 



The Stoat. — Sir, If the stoat or white weasel of J. M. is not of a distinct 

 species, his remarks on it (p. 77.) do not apply to every part of the king- 

 dom. He says, that " it is more abundant than the weasel, probably 

 because it is unable to enter the holes of the reptiles by which it is killed." 

 Now, although I know many insects that dig holes for themselves, yet I 

 know of no reptiles that do so, nor do I know of any reptile in Scotland 

 that is in the habit of killing the white weasel or stoat (iy^ustela erminea). 

 In fact, the best of them would find him not a simple customer. The 

 viper, doubtless, may have it in his power to bring death at the long run 

 upon him, although this must occur very rarely. For the viper hunts for 

 frogs and mice when they lose the power of smell, and come in his way, 

 by day only; and indeed is rarely seen abroad but in sunshine. The 

 stoat may sometimes be seen during the day ; but from habit he is a 

 prowler, " a minion of the moon." Here he is so much rarer than the 

 weasel, that there are three of the latter for one of the former, especially 

 in the cultivated districts. The stoat, or white weasel as he is called in 

 Selkirkshire, is rather partial to a wild and mountainous country. His 

 habitations are the holes of the mole, into which I have often tracked him 

 during snow, and persevered to dig for him for some hours. I came at 

 last, however, to his lodging, and I was almost sorry for it, as he had 

 escaped by a back door, and I only dug up and uselessly destroyed his 

 winter abode, in the furnishing of which he had shown much good sense. 



