MerhiO'Ryeland Breed of Sheep. 463 



accordingly, exhibited as the ultimate standard of excellence ; and therefore as a 

 model of perfect beauty in this species of animals. Let us more minutely examine 

 its pretensions. 



The Leicester sheep has a peculiar temper and disposition. He is naturally dull 

 and indolent. He is scarcely sensible when you come near him. Any fence con- 

 fines him. He never runs about from vivacity, or the love of change. His whole 

 object, the very end of his existence, is to fill his belly. He moves for food to a 

 short distance all around him, soon satiates himself, and then lies down to rest. 

 From this genius and mode of life, all his food readily becomes chyle, soon fills 

 his vessels, and, as is usual in all animals in such cases, is in great abundance poured 

 out of the vessels in form of that secretion which is called fat, and which, among 

 other useful purposes, is certainly a wise provision of nature to remove a degree 

 of distention in the vascular system, which might, probably, in various ways, soon 

 become fatal. The animal therefore becomes loaded with fat; which, at an early 

 period of life, is always deposited in that sort of net-work immediately subjacent to 

 the inner slcin, called, from its structure, the cellular membrane, or texture, and, 

 from its use, the adipose membrane. It is evident, therefore, that a Leicester 

 sheep, under proper circumstances, is fit for growing fat. 



But what is the fitness of fat itself? A certain proportion of it, according to the 

 modes of cookery in England, and I might add, almost in England only, is doubt- 

 less coveted by every palate ; and a larger proportion is desired by the labouring 

 part of ihe people, who like it in their broths, their puddings, and with tlieir fried 

 vegetables. But the number of such persons, who are able to purchase mutton, is 

 comparatively small. Among the middle and wealthier classes of people, and more 

 especially their domestics, very fat mutton on the table is an object of utter aversion. 

 It is, indeed, very much to the liking of the cook, who receives, as her perquisite, all 

 which either the fire separates, or the dainty palate leaves uneaten, and sells it as 

 tallow to the manufacturer of candles or soap. The proportion of this mutton so 

 lost would astonish those who have not seen the immense thickness of fat which 

 loads the surface of the loins, shoulders, and necks of the prize sheep, so constantly 

 exhibited in large cities, to the great admiration of the gaping multitude. But the 

 tallow of a sheep is always less valuable than the lean taken in connection with a 

 due proportion of the fat with which it is spread, or interlarded ; and, perhaps, for 

 this very reason among others, the Leicester mutton usually sells for common 



