he not only learns to understand the language and commands of the shepherd, and obeys them with faithfulness and alacrity, but, when at distances beyond the reach of his master's voice, he often stops, looks back, and recognizes the approbation or disapprobation of the shepherd from the mere waving of his hand. He reigns at the head of a flock, and his voice is better heard than that of his master. His vigilance and activity produce order, discipline, and safety. Sheep and cattle are peculiarly subjected to his management; which he prudently conducts and protects, and never employs force against them except for the preservation of peace and good order.

'Every person knows the docility and sagacity of such dogs as are employed in conducting blind mendicants. A blind beggar used to be led through the streets of Rome by a middle-sized dog. This dog, beside leading his master in such a manner as to protect him from all danger, learned to distinguish not only the streets, but the houses, where his master was accustomed to receive alms twice or thrice a week. Whenever the animal came to any of these streets, with which he was well acquainted, he would not leave it till a call had been made at every house where his master was usually successful in his petitions. When the beggar began to ask alms, the dog, being wearied, lay down to rest; but the master was no sooner served or refused, than the dog rose spontaneously, and, without either order or sign, proceeded to the other houses where the beggar generally received some gratuity. When a half-penny was thrown from a window, such was the sagacity and attention of this dog, that he went about in quest of it, lifted it from the ground with his mouth, and put it into his master's hat. Even when bread was thrown down, the animal would not taste it, unless he received a portion of it from the hand of his master. Without any other instruction than imitation, a mastiff, when accidentally shut out from a house which his master frequented, uniformly rung the bell for admittance. Dogs can be taught to go to market with money, to repair to a known butcher, and to carry home the meat in safety. They can de taught to dance to music, and to search for food, and find anything that is lost.

'There was a dog formerly belonging to a grocer in Edin

burgh, which for some time amused and astonished the people in the neighborhood. A man, who went through the streets ringing a bell and selling penny pies, happened one day to treat this dog with a pie. The next time he heard the pie-man's bell, he ran to him with impetuosity, seized him by the coat, and would not suffer him to pass. The pie-man, who understood what the animal wanted, showed him a penny, and pointed to his master, who stood in the street-door, and saw what was going on. The dog immediately supplicated his master by many humble gestures and looks. The master put a penny into the dog's mouth, which he instantly delivered to the pie-man, and received his pie. This traffic between the pie-man and the grocer's dog was daily practised for several months.

6

Mr. Ray, who wrote about the end of the seventeenth century, informs us, that he had seen a horse who danced to music, who, at the command of his master, affected to be lame, who simulated death, lay motionless with his limbs extended, and allowed himself to be dragged about, till some words were pronounced, when he instantly sprung up on his feet. Facts of this kind would scarcely receive credit, if every person were not now acquainted with the wonderful docility of the horses educated by public exhibitors of horsemanship. In exhibitions of this kind, the docility and prompt obedience of the animals deserve more admiration than the dexterous feats of the men.

'Animals of the ox kind, in a domestic state, are dull and phlegmatic. Their sensibility and talents seem to be very limited. But we should not pronounce rashly concerning the genius and powers of animals in a country where their education is totally neglected. In all the southern provinces of Africa and Asia, there are many wild bisons, or bunched oxen, which are caught young and tamed. They are soon taught to submit, without resistance, to all kinds of domestic labor. They become so tractable that they are managed with as much ease as our horses. The voice of their master is alone sufficient to make them obey, and to direct their course. They are shod, curried, caressed, and supplied abundantly with the best food. When managed in this manner, these animals appear to be different creatures from our oxen. The oxen of the Hottentots are favor

ite domestics, companions in amusements, assistants in all laborious exercises, and participate the habitation, the bed, and the table of their masters. As their nature is improved by the gentleness of their education, by the kind treatment they receive, and the perpetual attention bestowed on them, they acquire sensibility and intelligence, and perform actions which one would not expect from them. The Hottentots train oxen to war. In all their armies there are considerable troops of them, which are easily governed, and are let loose by the chief when a proper opportunity occurs. They instantly dart with impetuosity upon the enemy. They strike with their horns, kick, overturn, and trample under their feet everything that opposes their fury. They run ferociously into the ranks, which they soon put in the utmost disorder, and thus pave the way for an easy victory to their masters. They are likewise instructed to guard the flocks, which they conduct with dexterity, and defend them from the attacks of strangers and of rapacious animals. They are taught to distinguish friends from enemies, to understand signals, and to obey the commands of their masters. When pasturing, at the smallest signal from the keeper, they bring back and collect the wandering animals. They attack all strangers with fury; which renders them a great security against robbers. These brackelays, as they are called, know every inhabitant of the kraal, and discover the same marks of respect for all the men, women, and children, as a dog does for those who live in his master's house. These people may, therefore, approach their cattle with the greatest safety. But if a stranger, and particularly a European, should use the same freedom, without being accompanied by one of the Hottentots, his life would be in imminent danger.' The influence of education is, however, by no means confined to the animals of the higher orders. Reptiles, Fishes, and even Insects have also been trained and domesticated. In Ceylon, the deadly Cobra has been sometimes tamed and trained to perform certain services. He has been kept as an inmate of the house, moving about freely with the members of the family. In one household, near Negombo, a wealthy individual, who kept large sums of money at home, employed them instead of dogs, as protectors. They glided about his apartments, a terror to thieves,

but harmless to all others. Fishes, toads, and spiders, have been taught to come at a given signal for food, and fleas have been educated to endure a harness, and perform various curious evolutions.

Wonderful accounts have been given of the serpent-charmers of the East, and it has been generally believed that they have some peculiar power hereditary in certain families, by which they are able to handle and play with, and even to irritate, the most venemous of the race without injury. That this is constantly done there is no doubt, but there have been different opinions as to the mode. Some writers have asserted that the poisonous fangs are always extracted before the animals are handled. An exhibition of this kind was given at the Zoological Gardens in London a few years ago, and the disclosures of the performers appear to favor this view of the question. The following brief sketch is condensed from a published and apparently authentic narrative. The exhibitors were an old man and his son-in-law Mohammed, a mere lad of sixteen. "The lad, with his arms bared, first seizes by the tail a large Cobra de Capello, a hooded snake of the most poisonous kind, and holding him at arm's length allows him to writhe about for some time, till he is in a state of high irritation. He is pinched and teased in various ways, and repeatedly strikes at the hands, arms, and legs of his assailant, but the blows are all avoided with great agility. Another larger and fiercer is then seized in the same way, and is buffeted about the head with the open hand till he is quite furious and seizes the lad on the arm; but, merely wiping the spot, the boy proceeds to tie the animal about his neck, and also into a variety of knots. He then tells him to be quiet, and lays him on his back, gently stroking his neck and skin. He remains as if quite dead, and a third is carried through the same process, and then placed in the bosom next the skin, where he coils quite around the body of the exhibitor, and is withdrawn only with great difficulty and in a state of great irritation."

Upon a strict examination of the persons making this exhibition, they admitted that the fangs were always previously removed, and that without this precaution no one would venture upon such freedom with these deadly reptiles. They described

the manner of catching and preparing their subjects, and it is in this part of the process that the peculiar skill and courage of the serpent-charmers is shown.

But, in contradiction to this statement, we have the assertion of many travellers who have witnessed these exhibitions in the East, that the fangs are not extracted, that they have examined the animals thus exhibited, and that, at the same time that they were thus completely under the influence of the charmers and incapable of doing them any injury, their bite was as destructive as ever to the life of other animals exposed to them. Dr. John Davy, in his account of Ceylon, is certain that the only charm exerted is that of courage and confidence. Bruce, the celebrated Egyptian traveller, gives his testimony to the same effect, and more lately Tennent confirms the same statement.

B.

CHAPTER XIII. (S.)

OF THE ARTIFICES OF ANIMALS.

'THE Monkey tribes are among the most remarkable of animals, for their various indications of cunning, artifice, and even intelligence. Others may sometimes exhibit a greater amount of actual, practical wisdom, but there are none which present a nearer approach in certain respects to the human character, or a more close imitation of some of the lower faculties, propensities, and manners of our own species. Their peculiarities will be best illustrated by a variety of examples.'

Margraaf informs us, that the monkeys in Brazil, while they are sleeping on the trees, have uniformly a sentinel to warn them of the approach of the tiger or other rapacious animals; and that, if ever this sentinel is found sleeping, his companions instantly tear him in pieces for his neglect of duty. For the same purpose, when a troop of monkeys are committing depredations on the fruits of a garden, a sentinel is placed on an eminence, who,