THE HOG KIND. 



281 



nice in its provision than any of the former, 

 eat* but seventy-two plants, and rejects a 

 hundred and seventy-one. The indelicacy of 

 tins animal is, therefore, rather in our appre- 

 hensions than in its nature; since we find it 

 makes a very distinguishing choice in the 

 quality of its food ; and if it does not reject 

 animal putrefaction, it may be because it is 

 abridged in that food which is most whole- 

 some and agreeable to it in a state of nature. 

 This is certain, that its palate is not insen- 

 sible to the difference of eatables ; for, where 

 it finds variety, it will reject the worst, with 

 as distinguishing a taste as any other quad- 

 ruped whatsoever." In the orchards of peach- 

 trees in North America, where the hog has 

 plenty of delicious food, it is observed, that 

 it will reject the fruit that has lain but a few 

 hours on the ground, and continue on the 

 watch whole hours together for a fresh wind- 

 fall. 



However, the hog is naturally formed in a 

 more imperfect manner than the other animals 

 that we have rendered domestic around us, 

 less active in its motions, less furnished with 

 instinct in knowing what to pursue or avoid. 

 Without attachment, and incapable of instruc- 

 tion, it continues, while it lives, an useless, or 

 rather a rapacious dependent. The coarse- 

 ness of its hair, and the thickness of its hide, 

 together with the thick coat of fat that lies 

 immediately under the skin, render it insen- 

 sible to blows, or rough usage. Mice have 

 been known to burrow in the back of these 

 animals while fattening in the sty, b witliout 

 their seeming to perceive it. Their other 

 senses seem to be in tolerable perfection ; 

 they scent the hounds at a distance; and, as 

 we have seen, they are not insensible in the 

 choice of their provisions. 



The hog is, by nature, stupid, inactive, and 

 drowsy; if undisturbed, it would sleep half 

 its time; but it is frequently awaked by the 

 calls of appetite, which when it has satisfied, 

 it goes to rest again. Its whole life is thus a 

 round of sleep and gluttony; and if supplied 

 with sufficient food, it soon grows unfit even 

 for its own existence; its flesh becomes a grea- 

 ter load than its legs are able to support, and 

 it continues to feed lying down, or kneeling, 



British Zoology, vol. i. p. 42. b Buflbn. 



an helpless instance of indulged sensuality. 

 The only time it seems to have passions of a 

 more active nature, are, when it is incited by 

 venery, or when the wind blows with any ve- 

 hemence. Upon this occasion, it is so agita- 

 ted as to run violently towards its sty, scream- 

 ing horribly at the same time, which seems 

 to argue that it is naturally fond of a warm 

 climate. It appears also to foresee the ap- 

 proach of bad weather, bringing straw to its 

 sty in its mouth, preparing a bed, and hiding 

 itself from the impending storm. Nor is it 

 less agitated when it hears any of its kind in 

 distress : when a hog is caught in a gate, as 

 is often the case, or when it suffers any of the 

 usual domestic operations of ringing or spay- 

 ing, all the rest are then seen to gather round 

 it, to lend their fruitless assistance, and to sym- 

 pathize with its sufferings. They have often 

 also been known to gather round a dog that 

 had teazed them, and kill him upon the spot. 



Most of the diseases of this animal arise 

 from intemperance; measles, imposthumes, 

 and scrofulous swellings, are reckoned among 

 the number. It is thought by some that they 

 wallow in the mire to destroy a sort of louse, 

 or insect, that is often found to infest them ; 

 however, they are generally known to live, 

 when so permitted, to eighteen or twenty years; 

 and the females produce till the age of fifteen. 

 As they produce from ten to twenty young at 

 a litter, and that twice a year, we may easily 

 compute how numerous they would shortly 

 become, if not diminished by human industry. 

 In the wild state they are less prolific; and 

 the sow of the woods brings forth but once a 

 year, probably because exhausted by rearing 

 up her former numerous progeny. 



It would be superfluoustodwell longer upon 

 the nature and qualities of an animal too well 

 known to need a description: there are few, 

 even in cities, who are unacquainted with its 

 uses, its appetites, and way of living. The 

 arts of fattening, rearing, guarding, and ma- 

 naging hogs, fall more properly under the cog- 

 nizance of the farmer than the naturalist; they 

 make a branch of domestic economy, which % 

 properly treated, may be extended to a great 

 length ; but the history of nature ought al- 

 ways to end where that of art begins. It will 

 be sufficient, therefore, to observe, that the 

 wild boar was formerly a native of our coun>- 



