THE HOG. 419 



f attack and defence, that both are precisely those in which 

 he is enabled to employ his natural weapons with the surest 

 effect. And with respect to his want of speed, it is seen that 

 it suffices for the purposes of his own safety, enabling him to 

 outstrip for a space the beasts of prey that are his assailants. 

 "When the Hog is described as a creature of gross habits and 

 unclean tastes, as having the senses of touch and taste obtuse, 

 and as being so insensible that mice may burrow in his fat 

 without his seeming to feel, and so forth, we must see that 

 this is not the description of an animal as he has been formed 

 by nature, but as he is measured by some standard of our 

 own. We cannot say that he is unclean, because Nature has 

 furnished him with powerful organs of digestion, which enable 

 him to derive nourishment from so many substances ; and with 

 respect to his voracity, what is this but the result of the ex- 

 tent and perfection of his digestive and respiratory organs 1 

 We cannot know what his sensations of taste are, but have 

 no reason to conclude with M. Buffon that they are obtuse. 

 The dulness of his sense of touch is inferred from the exist- 

 ence of the thick layer of fat which envelopes his body ; but 

 the plexus of nerves which give sensibility to the skin, is ex- 

 terior to this fatty layer, and is not affected by it. The skin 

 of the Hog is far from being insensible. He suffers under 

 the irritation of gnats and other insects, and endeavours to 

 protect himself from their persecution by rolling in moist 

 places, and covering himself with mud. He feels blows 

 acutely, and manifests his suffering by loud cries ; and, with 

 respect to the burrowing of mice in his fat, this can scarcely 

 but be a fable, though vouched for by Varro, and handed 

 down as truth from writer to writer for 1800 years. 



However grovelling and mean may appear the habits of 

 the Hog, when reduced to the degradation of slavery, yet he 

 is not destitute of sagacity, nor unsusceptible of attachment. 

 When he lives in the cabin of the peasant, he loses much of 

 his rudeness, suffers himself to be caressed, and recognises 

 his protectors. Instances are known in which the Hog, for 



