THEOEIES.] 



THE DOG, AND ITS VARIETIES; 



[anecdote. 



branches of the lower maxillary bones ? Or 

 will change of climate, on the other hand, 

 operate to convert a bulldog into a greyhound, 

 produce a high and slender form, diminish 

 the frontal sinuses, deprive the animal of the 

 sense of smell, at least comparatively, together 

 •with courage and other moral qualities depend- 

 ing on organisation ? I say nothing : I 

 only ask my intelligent readers — do they be- 

 lieve this possible ? Thus far, a very eminent 

 naturalist, Colonel Hamilton Smith, goes with 

 me, hand in hand ; all that I have adduced he 

 admits ; but here we unfortunately part com- 

 pany. Colonel Smith seeks to account for 

 these difterences by calling in the intervention 

 of a supposed admixture of wolf, fox, or hyaena, 

 &c. He admits an originally-formed dog, and 

 one variety only ; and refers for the alterations 

 that have taken place in him to crossing with 

 these wild animals. Now I consider this 

 theory as even less tenable than that of the 

 wolfish or vulpine origin of the dog, as the 

 colonel is obliged to bring several races of 

 wild dogs to his aid ; and, may I venture to 

 inquire, where is their origin ? Besides this, 

 we have to refer to the decided antipathy 

 subsisting between these animals in a state of 

 nature, and thus effectually precluding inter- 

 mixture, unless through human intervention 

 and agency, which clearly was never exerted 

 in that condition for this purpose. 



" It is," says Mr. Eichardson, '• in far remote 

 ages of ' Tlie Earth and Animated Nature' that 

 we have to seek for traces of the origin of this 

 sagacious and generous animal, which has en- 

 joyed the especial privilege and well-merited 

 honour of being, ^;ar excellence, the rniEND op 

 ilAN." — In this opinion we concur. "We further 

 believe — for it must resolve itself into a matter 

 only of belief where all reasoning is contradic- 

 tory, and therefore in a great measure nuga- 

 tory — tliat, however close his alUance may be 

 to the wolf or the jackal, neither of these ani- 

 mals are his original. He has, in our opinion, 

 an original of his own; and, however thick 

 may be the veil which shrouds this in obscurity, 

 liis intelligence being next to that of man, 

 stamps him as a creation as distinctly original 

 as that of the half-reasoning elephant. 



So nearly akin is the intelligence of the do"- 

 to reason, that we are sometimes puzzled to 

 account for the actions which result from it. 

 378 



" Lo ! the poor Indian, whose untutor'd mind 

 Sees God in clouds, and hears him in the wind, 

 ****** 



And thinks, admitted to that equal sky, 



His FAITHFUL DOG shall bear him company." 



The poets of difterent ages and of various 

 lands would seem to have delighted in commem- 

 orating the virtues of this favourite animal. 

 Of this we have already given an illustration 

 from the Homeric poems, and we will now give 

 one from the Virgilian Georgics : — 



" Nor last forget thy faithful dogs ; but feed 



With fattening whey the mastiff's gen'rous breed, 

 And Spartan race, who, for the fold's relief, 

 Will prosecute with cries the nightly thief; 

 Repulse tlie prowling wolf, and hold at bay 

 The mountain robbers rushing to the prey. 

 With cries of hounds thou may'st pursue the fear 

 Of flying hares, and chase the fallow deer; 

 Rouse from their desert dens the bristled rage 

 Of boars, and beamy stags in toils engage." 



Walter Scott was also passionately attached 

 to dogs ; and, in some of the most graphic 

 and picturesque scenes in his beautiful novels, 

 several of these find a prominent place. Their 

 fidelity and sagacity, exemplified on many oc- 

 casions, were to him a source of great enjoy- 

 ment. In allusion to these qualities, as exhib- 

 ited by one^ in the case of a traveller who had 

 been dashed to pieces by falling from a preci- 

 pice of Helvellyn, he says — 



" Nor yet quite deserted, though lonely extended, 

 For faithful in death, his meek favourite attended, 

 The much-loved remains of her master defended, 

 And chased the hill-fox and the raven away. 

 How long didst thou think that his silence was slumber ? 

 When the wind moved his garments, how oft didst 

 thou start ? 

 How many long days and long weeks didst thou 

 number. 

 Ere he faded before thee, the friend of thy heart ?" 



The circumstances which suggested this 

 poem were detailed to a tourist by one of the 

 guides who conducts visitors to the summits of 

 Skiddaw and Helvellyn. The unfortunate man 

 who perished amidst these solitudes, was a resi- 

 dent of Manchester, who was periodically in 

 the habit of visiting the lakes, and who, confid- 

 ing in his knowledge of the country, had ven- 

 tured to cross one of the passes of Helvellyn, 

 late in a summer afternoon, in company only 

 with his faithful dog. Darkness, it is sup- 

 posed, came on before his expectation ; he wan- 

 dered from the track ; and ieli over the rocks 



