THE DOG. 155 



ity of acquiring and power of retaining what is taught 

 him, the delight which he evidently takes in performing 

 his duties well, his sensibility to applause or censure, 

 entirely apart from reward or punishment, his singular 

 semi-human comprehension of our words and meanings 

 his gratitude for kindness, his patience of injustice and 

 cruelty, his wonderful instinctive powers, and yet more 

 wonderful gropings and strugglings in the dark — so easily 

 perceived by those who are observant of his character and 

 actions — after something clearer and more spiritual than 

 mere instinct, entitle him to be regarded and treated by 

 his master, as something far beyond the mere brute ; and 

 so to treat him will full well repay the master both in sat- 

 isfaction and in service. 



It used to be held a maxim, in my youth, that the dog 

 of chase should be retained as much as possible a mere 

 brute — that to cultivate his intelligence, nurture his 

 affections, accustom him to understand your wishes and 

 share your pleasures, was to unfit him for field service; 

 and that, when a dog came to love his master, the only 

 thing was to hang him. 



Happily, like many other brutal and barbarous errors 

 of our immediate ancestors of the eighteenth century, who 

 always appear to me to have taken a retrograde step 

 in true civilization and refinement, and to have been the 

 rudest and most boorish of mankind, these maxims con- 

 cerning dog management are all found to be based on 

 error, and have all consequently fallen into disrepute and 

 disuse. With the exception of the admitted fact that a 

 house dog can rarely be kept a first-rate field-dog, how- 



