THE TORTOISE. 



339 



often not exceeding three feet long, by two 

 feet broad ; the sea-turtle being sometimes 

 from five to seven feet long. The size, how- 

 ever, is but a fallacious distinction: since 

 land-tortoises, in some parts of India, grow 

 to a very great magnitude ; though probably 

 not, as the ancients affirm, big enough for a 

 single shell to serve for the covering of a 

 house. 



But if the different kinds of tortoises are 

 not sufficiently distinguished by their figure, 

 they are very obviously distinguishable by 

 their methods of living. The land-tortoise 

 lives in holes dug in the mountains, or near 

 marshy lakes ; the sea-turtle in cavities of 

 rocks, arid extensive pastures at the bottom of 

 the sea. The tortoise makes use of its feet to 

 walk with, and burrow in the ground ; the 

 turtle chiefly uses its feet in swimming or 

 creeping at the bottom. 



The land-tortoise is generally found, as was 

 observed above, from one foot to five feet long, 

 from the end of the snout to the end of the 

 tail ; and from five inches to a foot and a half 

 across the back. It has a small head, some- 

 what resembling that of a serpent; an eye 

 without the upper lid ; the under eye- lid serv- 

 ing to cover and keep that organ in safety. 

 It has a strong scaly tail, like the lizard. Its 

 head the animal can put out and hide at plea- 

 sure, under the great penthouse of its shell; 

 there it can remain secure from all attacks; 

 there, defended on every side, it can fatigue 

 the patience of the most formidable animal of 

 the forest, that makes use only of natural 

 strength to destroy it. As the tortoise lives 

 wholly upon vegetable food, it never seeks 

 the encounter ; yet, if any of the smaller ani- 

 mals attempt to invade its repose, they are 

 sure to suffer. The tortoise, impregnably 

 defended, is furnished wilh such a strength of 

 jaw, that, though armed only with bony 

 plates instead of teeth, wherever it fastens it 

 infallibly keeps its hold, until it has taken out 

 the piece. 



Though peaceable in itself, it is formed for 

 war in another respect, for it seems almost 

 endued with immortality. Nothing can kill 

 it ; the depriving it of one of its members, is 

 but a slight injury : it will live, though 

 deprived of the brain; it will live, though 

 of its head. Redi informs us, that in making 

 some experiments upon vital motion, he, in 

 the beginning of the month of November, took 

 a land-tortoise, made a large opening in its 

 skull, and drew out all the brain, washed the 

 cavity, so as not to leave the smallest part 

 remaining, and then leaving the hole open, 

 set the animal at liberty. Notwithstanding 

 this, the tortoise marched away without seem- 

 ing to have received the smallest injury; only 

 it shut the eves, and never opened them after- 



wards. Soon after the hole in llie skull was 

 seen to close ; and in three days, there was a 

 complete skin covering the wound. In this 

 manner the animal lived without a brain, for 

 six months ; walking about unconcernedly, 

 and moving its limbs as before. But the 

 Italian philosopher, not satisfied with this ex- 

 periment, 'carried it still farther; for he cut 

 off the head, and the animal lived twenty-three 

 days after its separation from the body. The 

 head also continued to rattle the jaws, like a 

 pair of castanets, for above a quarter of an 

 hour. 



Nor are these animals less long-lived than 

 difficult in destroying. Tortoises are com- 

 monly known to exceed eighty years old ; and 

 there was one kept in the Archbishop of 

 Canterbury's garden, at Lambeth, that was 

 remembered above a hundred and twenty. It 

 was at last killed by the severity of a frost, 

 from which it had not sufficiently defended 

 itself in its winter retreat, which was a heap 

 of sand, at the bottom of the garden. 1 



i " From a document belonging to the archives of the 

 cathedral, called the Bishop's Barn, it is well ascer- 

 tained that the tortoise at Peterborough must have been 

 about 220 years old. Bishop Marsh's predecessor in the 

 see of Peterborough had remembered it above sixty years, 

 and could recognize no visible change. He was the 

 seventh bishop who had worn the mitre during its sojourn 

 there. If I mistake not, its sustenance and abode were 

 provided for in this document. Its shell was perforated, 

 in order to attach it to a tree?, &c., to limit its ravages 

 among the strawberry borders. The animal had its 

 antipathies and predilections. It would eat endive, 

 green peas, and even the leek ; while it positively re- 

 jected asparagus, parsely, and spinage. In the early 

 part of the season, its favourite pabulum were the flowers 

 of the dandelion, of which it would devour twenty at a 

 meal ; and lettuce, of the latter a good sized one at a 

 time; but if placed between lettuce and the flowers of 

 the dandelion, it would forsake the former for the latter. 

 It was also partial to the pulp of an orange, which it sucked 

 greedily. About the latter end of June, (discerning the 

 times and the seasons,) it looked out for fruit, when its 

 former choice was forsaken. It ate currants, raspberries, 

 pears, apples, peaches, nectarines, &c., the riper, the 

 better, but would not taste cherries. Of fruits, however, 

 the strawberry and gooseberry were the most esteemed : 

 it made great havoc among the strawberry borders, and 

 would take a pint of gooseberries at intervals. The 

 gardener told me it knew him well, the hand that gener- 

 ally fed it, and would watch him attentively at the goose- 

 berry bush, where it was sure to take its station while 

 he plucked the fruit. I could not get it to take the root 

 of the dandelion, nor indeed any root I offered it, as that 

 of the carrot, turnip, &c. All animal food was discarded, 

 nor would it take any liquid; at least neither milk nor 

 water ; and when a leaf was moist, it would shake it to 

 expel the adhering wet. This animal moved with ap- 

 parent ease, though pressed by a weight of eighteen 

 stones ; itself weighed 13 Ibs. In cloudy weather it 

 would scoop out a cavity, generally in a southern expo- 

 sure, where it reposed, torpid and inactive, until the 

 genial influence of the sun roused it from its slumber. 

 When in tins state the eyes were closed, and the head 

 and neck a little contracted, though not drawn within 

 the shell. Its sense of smelling was so acute, that it 

 wa3 roused from its lethargy if any person approached, 



