.298 The Senses of the Lower Animals . [July, 
The question of the scent of the vulture, so hotly dis- 
cussed by Waterton, Audubon, and others, can scarcely be 
regarded as definitely settled. 
Serpents have a more powerful sense of smell than is 
generally imagined. They do not, indeed, pursue their prey 
by scent, — or, rather, they do not pursue them at all, — -but 
lie in wait, and seize any suitable victim that presents 
itself. But we have been repeatedly struck with the com- 
motion excited in a reptile vivarium on the introduction of 
a mouse, shrew, or other small warm-blooded animal ; 
whilst the arrival of a frog, toad, newt, or lizard passed 
quite unnoticed. Our observations lead us to believe that 
among vipers the male, who is of wandering habits, seeks 
the more sedentary female by scent. Some country people 
hold that serpents are remarkably fond of milk, and will 
follow by scent a farm-labourer who is carrying a full pail 
from the fields, or even a woman who is suckling her child. 
But we never met with any authenticated fads in support 
of this tradition. 
Fishes are, as is well known, attracted by various sub- 
stances thrown into the water ; but it can scarcely be said 
that, in their case, the two senses of smell and of taste 
are thoroughly differentiated. 
Of the sense of taste in animals we know but little, save 
that many species are exceedingly nice in the selection of 
their food, and rejeCt with considerable obstinacy an article 
which does not meet their requirements. Thus an owl can 
rarely be induced to eat meat in the slightest degree tainted. 
This'should argue no small delicacy of taste. On the other 
hand, those creatures which swallow their food whole — such 
as serpents, lizards, frogs, toads, and many birds — can 
scarcely be supposed to recognise its taste. We have heard 
of a python, in a fit of hunger, swallowing a blanket. 
Touch, the least localised of our senses, is too often con- 
founded, in popular apprehension, with feeling. But surely 
the mere recognition of resistance, in certain directions and 
to various degrees, has no necessary connection with the 
idea of pleasure or pain possibly excited in the system. 
This is a fortunate circumstance, as it saves us from dis- 
cussing the vexed question as to how far and to what extent 
feeling extends down the animal, or even the vegetable, 
kingdom. But that touch exists in all animals will scarcely 
be disputed. Its seat, however, varies greatly in different 
groups. The hands or fore feet in the Primates and Carni- 
vora, aided in many of the latter by the whiskers; the snout 
in the lower mammals, the beak apparently in birds, the 
