[Illustration: AFRICAN ELEPHANT] DOMESTICATED ANIMALS THEIR RELATION TO MAN AND TO HIS ADVANCEMENT IN CIVILIZATION BY NATHANIEL SOUTHGATE SHALER DEAN OF THE LAWRENCE SCIENTIFIC SCHOOL OF HARVARD UNIVERSITY _ILLUSTRATED_ NEW YORK CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 1908 COPYRIGHT, 1895, BY CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS CONTENTS PAGEINTRODUCTION, 1 THE DOG Ancestry of the Domesticated Dogs. --Early Uses of the Animal:Variations induced by Civilization. --Shepherd-dogs: theirPeculiarities; other Breeds. --Possible IntellectualAdvances. --Evils of Specialized Breeding. --Likeness of Emotionsof Dogs to those of Man: Comparison with other DomesticatedAnimals. --Modes of Expression of Emotions in Dogs. --FutureDevelopment of this Species. --Comparison of Dogs and Cats asregards Intelligence and Position in Relation to Man, 11 THE HORSE Value of the Strength of the Horse to Man. --Origin of theHorse. --Peculiar Advantage of the Solid Hoof. --Domesticationof the Horse. --How begun. --Use as a Pack Animal. --ForWar. --Peculiar Advantages of the Animal for Use of Men. --MentalPeculiarities. --Variability of Body. --Spontaneous Variationsdue to Climate. --Variations of Breeds. --Effect of the Inventionof Horseshoes. --Donkeys and Mules compared with Horse. --EspecialValue of these Animals. --Diminishing Value of Horses in ModernCivilization. --Continued Need of their Service in War, 57 THE FLOCKS AND HERDS: BEASTS FOR BURDEN, FOOD, AND RAIMENT Effect of this Group of Animals on Man. --First Subjugations. --Basisof Domesticability. --Horned Cattle. --Wool-bearing Animals. --Sheepand Goats. --Camels: their Limitation. --Elephants: Ancient History;Distribution; Intelligence; Use in the Arts; Need of TrueDomestication. --Pigs: their Peculiar Economic Value; ModernVarieties; Mental Qualities. --Relation of the Development ofDomesticable Animals to the Time of Man's Appearance on the Earth, 103 DOMESTICATED BIRDS Domestication of Animals mainly accomplished by the Aryan Race;Small Amount of Such Work by American Indians. --Barnyard Fowl:Mental Qualities; Habits of Combat. --Peacocks: their LimitedDomestication. --Turkeys: their Origin; tending to revert to theSavage State. --Water Fowl: Limited Number of Species domesticated;Intellectual Qualities of this Group. --The Pigeon: Origin andHistory of Group; Marvels of Breeding. --Song Birds. --Hawks andHawking. --Sympathetic Motive of Birds: their Ęsthetic Sense;their Capacity for Enjoyment, 152 USEFUL INSECTS Relations of Men to Insect World. --But Few Species Useful toMan. --Little Trace of Domestication. --Honey-bees: their Origin;Reasons for no Selective Work; Habits of the Species. --Silkworms:Singular Importance to Man. --Intelligence of Species. --CochinealInsect. --Spanish Flies. --Future of Man relative to Useful Insects, 190 THE RIGHTS OF ANIMALS Recent Understanding as to the Rights of Animals; Nature of theseRights; their Origin in Sympathy. --Early State of SympatheticEmotions. --Place of Statutes concerning Animal Rights. --Presentand Future of Animal Rights. --Question of Vivisection. --Rights ofDomesticated Animals to Proper Care; to Enjoyment. --Ends of theBreeder's Art. --Moral Position of the Hunter. --ProbableDevelopment of the Protecting Motive as applied to Animals, 204 THE PROBLEM OF DOMESTICATION The Conditions of Domestication; Effects on Society; Share of theRaces of Men in the Work. --Evils of Non-Intercourse withDomesticated Animals as in Cities; Remedies. --Scientific Positionof Domestication; Future of the Art. --List of Species which mayAdvantageously be Domesticated. --Peculiar Value of the Birds andMammals. --Importance of Groups which tenant High Latitudes. --Planfor Wilderness Reservations; Relation to National Parks. --Projectfor International System of Reservations. --Nature of OrganicProvinces; Harm done to them by Civilized Men. --Way in whichReservations would Serve to Maintain Types of the Life ofthe Earth; how they may be Founded. --Summary and Conclusions, 218 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS PAGEFULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS AFRICAN ELEPHANT, _Frontispiece_ SHEEP-DOGS GUARDING A FLOCK AT NIGHT, 10 HOUNDS RUNNING A WILD BOAR, 53 ON ROTTEN ROW, HYDE PARK, LONDON, 63 CAVALRY HORSE, 71 A HURDLE JUMPER, 79 ENGLISH POLO PONIES, 89 WINNOWING GRAIN IN EGYPT, 111 THE HALT IN THE DESERT AT NIGHT--THE STORY TELLER, 121 CARRYING THE SUGAR CANE IN HARVEST--EGYPT, 125 FEEDING SILKWORMS WITH MULBERRY LEAVES IN JAPAN, 193 THE FARMER'S APIARY, 199 ILLUSTRATIONS IN THE TEXT GREYHOUND AFTER "THE KILL, " 13 ST. BERNARD, 15 SPANIEL RETRIEVING WILD DUCK, 17 BULL-DOG, 22 FOX-HOUND AND PUPS, 25 POINTER RETRIEVING A FALLEN BIRD, 26 POINTER AND SETTER, FLUSHING GAME, 27 DUTCH DOGS USED IN HARNESS, 30 KING CHARLES SPANIEL, 33 THE POUNCE OF A TERRIER, 35 POMERANIAN OR "SPITZ, " 38 POODLES, 39 COLLIE, 41 A HUNTER, 60 HORSE OF A BULGARIAN MARAUDER, 67 MARE AND FOAL, 68 PLOUGH HORSES, FRANCE, 73 BELGIAN FISHERMAN'S HORSE, 76 HORSES FOR TOWING ON THE BEACH IN HOLLAND, 78 EXERCISING THE THOROUGHBREDS, 84 AN ARABIAN HORSE, 85 ARABIAN SPORTS, 86 SYRIAN HORSE, 92 IN THE CIRCUS, 96 DOMESTICATED BUFFALOES IN EGYPT, 104 CATTLE OF INDIA, 105 INDIAN BULLOCK AND WATER-CARRIER, 108 PLOUGHING IN SYRIA, 109 EGYPTIAN SHEEP, 114 BEDOUIN GOAT-HERD--PALESTINE, 116 THE GREAT CARAVAN ROAD--CENTRAL ASIA, 119 CAMELS FEEDING, 123 CAMELS ALONG THE SEA AT TWILIGHT, 127 AN INDIAN ELEPHANT, 134 THE ORIGINAL JUNGLE FOWL (_Gallus bankiva_) AND SOME OF HIS DOMESTIC DESCENDANTS, 153 HOUDIN, COCHINS, LEGHORNS, AND GAME, 158 BANTAMS, BRAHMA, AND DORKINGS, 160 CONTRIBUTIONS FROM ASIA, AFRICA, AND AMERICA--PEACOCKS, GUINEA-FOWL, AND TURKEY, 163 THE DOMESTICATED TURKEY, 165 THE LARGEST OF ALL POULTRY--THE OSTRICH, 168 AN EIDER COLONY, 170 TERNS AIDING A WOUNDED COMRADE, 171 SOME RECENT ADDITIONS TO THE POULTRY YARD, 173 SWANS, 174 THE ORIGINAL WILD ROCK DOVE (_Columba livia_) AND SOME OF ITS DOMESTIC DESCENDANTS, 175 TURTLE DOVES, 177 THE GIANT CROWNED PIGEON OF INDIA, 178 THE ENGLISH PHEASANT, 181 THE FALCONER'S FAVORITE--PEREGRINE FALCON, 184 THE BANDIT'S BROOD, 186 DOMESTICATED ANIMALS INTRODUCTION One of the effects of the modern advance in natural science has beengreatly to increase the attention which is devoted to the influencesthat the conditions of diverse peoples have had upon their development. Man is no longer looked upon, as he was of old, as a being which hadbeen imposed upon the earth in a sudden and arbitrary manner, set torule the world into which he had been sent as a master. We now see himas one of the myriad species which has won its way by powers of mind outof darkness and the great struggle to the place of command. The way inwhich this creature, weak in body and exceedingly dependent on hissurroundings, has in the modern geologic epoch come forth from the massof the lower animals, is by far the most impressive and as yet the mostunexplained phenomenon which the geologist has to consider. It is notlikely that the marvellous advancement can be accounted for by anysingle cause; it is probably due, as are most of the great evolutions, to the concurrence of many influences; but among these which make foradvance, we clearly have to reckon the animals and plants which man haslearned to associate with his work of the household and the fields. Although certain species of insects, particularly the ants, have thewell-developed habit of subjugating certain creatures of their ownfamily, man is the only vertebrate that has ever adopted the plan ofdomesticating a variety of animals and plants. The beginnings of thiscustom were made in a very remote time, and for long ages the profitwhich was thereby gained appears to have been but slight. Gradually, however, races, owing to their masterful quality and to theopportunities which were offered by the wild life about their dwellingplaces, obtained flocks and herds. In the group of continents commonlytermed the old world, where there were several ancient primitive peoplesof innate ability, and where there were many species of larger mammalswhich were well fitted for domestication, the advance in socialdevelopment went on rapidly. In the new world, though the primitiveraces contained tribes of much ability, there was practically no chancefor the people to add to their strength by the subjugation of beasts ofburden, or to their food resources by the adoption of various animalswhich could be used for the needs of food or raiment. The advance of menwhen they have obtained valuable domesticated animals, and their failureto win a high station where the surrounding nature denied suchopportunities, go far to prove the bearing of this accomplishment in thedevelopment of peoples. A little consideration makes it evident to us that the advance ofmankind above the original savage state is in several ways favored bythe possession of domesticated animals. In the first place, eachcreature which is adopted into the household or the fields usuallybrings as its tribute a substantial contribution to the resources whichtend to make the society commercially successful. When we consider theenlargements of resources and the diversification of industries whichrest upon the adoption of any one of these animals--as, for instance, the horse--we see in a way what the possession of domesticated animalsand plants really means, and are in a position to conceive, though atbest but dimly, what the scores of these captive species have done forus. We recognize the fact that while, under almost any conditions, acertain manner of advance above the most primitive savagery is possibleto a naturally able people, this on-going cannot lead any distanceunless the folk have other help than their own weak bodies can givethem. It is hardly too much to say that civilization has intimatelydepended on the subjugation of a great range of useful species. It would be interesting to trace, if we could, what share the severaldomesticated animals have had in the development of the human races; butthis task is not to be done. We can, however, discern that the Arabwithout the camel and the horse would not have found the place inhistory which he has filled, and that our own race could not haveattained its place save for the aid which the horned cattle, sheep, anda host of other helpers which we have pressed into service, haveafforded. These economic gains have to be judged in mass, they cannot bereckoned in detail. When we have made the best account of them we can, there remains another class of influences, the value of which, thoughevidently great, is yet harder to reckon; these arise from the educationwhich has been attained through the care of these adopted creatures. Among savages the great need is a training in forethoughtfulness; allprimitive peoples are like children, they live in the interests of theday; the cares of the seasons to come, or even of the morrow, are notfor them. The possession of domesticated animals certainly did much tobreak up this old brutal way of life; it led to a higher sense ofresponsibility to the care of the household; it brought about systematicagriculture; it developed the art of war; it laid the foundations ofwealth and commerce, and so set men well upon their upward way. Moreover, the use of domesticated animals of the better sort enabled themore vigorous and care-taking races to gain the strength which led totheir advancement in power to a point where they were able to displacethe lower and feebler tribes. In other words, the system ofdomestication has provided a method by which those peoples who werefitted to develop the qualities which make for civilization couldadvance; it has provided the opportunity for selection. Of all the influences which have been exercised on man by the care ofhis flocks, herds, and droves, perhaps the most important is that whichhas arisen from the broader development of his sympathies. The savagemay be defined as a man who cares only for his family and his tribe; thecivilized man as one whose kindly interest extends to mankind and beyondto all sentient beings. In the development of this altruistic motive thecare of the dependent species has evidently been most effective. We notethat the peoples who have attained the first upward step in theassociation with domesticated animals are in their quality, so far astested by literature and history, much above the mere savage. With thecare of the flocks we find associated poetry, the first notes of higherreligious motives, and a largeness of the sympathetic life which isfavored by the nature of the occupation. Where the nomadic habits of theoriginal shepherds pass into the more sedentary state of the soiltiller, the element of personal care and the affection and theconsequent education of the sympathy were increased. Men had now to carefor half a dozen or more kinds of animals; they had to learn their ways, in a manner to put themselves in their places and conceive their needs. Thus the life of a farmer is a continual lesson in the art of sympathy;with the result, certainly in part due to this cause, that there is noclass of people from whom the brutal instincts of the ancient savagelife which we all inherit have been so completely eradicated. It is perhaps too much to attribute the advance of the agriculturalclasses of our civilized peoples, in all that serves to remove them fromthe brutality of their savage ancestors, altogether to the nature oftheir work--to the very large element of kindly care for which it calls, and which is the price of success in the occupation. Yet when we notethe immediate way in which the people bred in cities, undercircumstances of excitement are wont to behave like savages of the lowerkind, showing in their conduct a lack of all sympathetic education, andcontrast their behavior with that of their kinsmen from the fields--wesee essential differences in character which cannot well be explainedsave by the diverse natures of the training which the men have received. Thus in the French Revolution, the baser, more inhuman deeds were notcommitted by the peasants, who had been the principal sufferers underthe régime which was overthrown, but by the people of the great townswho had been less oppressed by the iniquities of the old system ofgovernment. If it be true--as my personal experiences and observations lead mefirmly to believe is the case--that man's contact with the domesticatedanimals has been and is ever to be one of the most effective meanswhereby his sympathetic, his civilized motives may be broadened andaffirmed, there is clearly reason for giving to this side of life alarger share of attention than it has received. So far the presence ofthese lower creatures in our society has generally been accepted as amatter of course. Sentimentalists, after the fashion of Laurence Sterne, have dwelt upon the imaginary woes of the creatures. Associations ofwell-meaning people have endeavored to diminish the cruelty which peopleof the towns, rarely those bred on the soil, often inflict upon them. Itseems, however, desirable that we should place this consideration upon aplane more fitting the knowledge of our time. It should be made plain, not only that the success of our civilization depends now as in the paston the coöperation which mankind has had from the domesticated animals, but also that the development of this relation is one of the mostinteresting features in all history. On through the ages of the geologicpast comes this great procession of life, in the endless succession ofspecies whose numbers in the aggregate are to be reckoned by the scores, if not by the hundreds of millions. Until this modern age, the thronggoes forward blindly, groping its way towards the higher planes of life. At length certain of the more advanced forms attain to a measure ofintellectual elevation. Still, for all this advance, the life is notorganized so as to attain any large ends; no society arises from it. Suddenly, in the last geological epoch, man, the descendant of a groupwhich like all others had led the narrow life of the preparatory ages, appears upon the scene. At first, and in his lower human estate, hisposition was not noticeably higher than that of his kindred, but therewas in him the seed of a great unlikeness, of very new things, in thathis desires had an element of the unlimited which was to grow apace, andin time to make him greedy of on-going. As this innovating creaturesought for agents of power in the wilderness about him, he blindly laidhands upon such of the fellow tenants of the wilds as might serve hisimmediate needs. This species, both animals and plants, endowed with thecapacity for variation, the plasticity which is in general acharacteristic of all organic forms, were early led by their new master, as of old they had been guided by the old organic laws. They changedaccording to his choice, abandoning their ancient ways for the novelpaths of civilization. With this association of the higher forms of theearth under the leadership of man, there began an entirely new andunprecedented condition of the world's affairs. In place of the ancientlaw of nature there came the control of our species which had been, in away, chosen to be the overlord of life. At first, the number of species of animals and plants which man broughtunder his control was very limited; it was indeed confined to thosewhich might readily be subjugated to meet immediate needs. Gradually, however, the list has been extended until it included thousands offorms, which, while they meet no need such as the savage recognizes, aregratifying to the taste or the ambitions of civilized peoples. Theseęsthetic devices, or those of necessity, are advancing so rapidly thateach generation sees hundreds of new animal and plant species added toour living collections, so that our plant and animal gardens now containa large share of the more attractive forms which are to be found in thevarious geographical realms. Our tilled fields yield perhaps a hundredtimes as many varieties of plants as they did in the earliest historicagriculture. The advance in the process of domestication is not so rapidas regards the animal kingdom as it is with the realm of plants, andthis mainly for the reason that animals have a will of their own whichhas to be bent or broken to that of man. Still it goes on apace. We ofto-day have at our command many times the number of sentient speciescontributive to our pleasure or profit that had been made captive at thebeginning of our era. Naturally, in the early days of domestication, menbrought under their control the greater number of the animals which gavepromise of utility. As no new species of any economic importance havebeen created within the last geologic period, the field for theextension of economic domestication has of late been very limited. Butthe realm of sympathetic appreciation, unlike the economic, knows nodefinite bounds, and promises in time to bring all the more importantorganic forms under the care of the sympathetic and masterful being whohas been chosen as the ruler of terrestrial life. We thus see that the matter of domesticated animals is but a part of thelarger problem which includes all that relates to man's destined masteryof the earth--a mastery which he is rapidly winning. It means that, intime, a large part of the life of this sphere is to be committed to hiscare, to survive or perish as he wills, to change at his bidding, togive, as other subjugated kinds have done, whatever of profit orpleasure they may contribute to his endless advancement. From this pointof view our domesticated creatures should be presented to our people, with the purpose in mind of bringing them to see that the process ofdomestication has a far-reaching aspect, a dignity, we may fairly say agrandeur, that few human actions possess. If we can impress this view, it will be certain to awaken men to a larger sense of theirresponsibility for, and their duty by, the creatures which we have takenfrom their olden natural state into the social order. It will, at thesame time, enlarge our conceptions of our own place in the order of thisworld. In the following pages little effort has been made to present thosefacts concerning domesticated animals which would commonly be reckonedas scientific. The several essays which, in larger part, were separatelyprinted in Scribner's Magazine, are intended for those persons who, while they may not care to approach the matter in the manner of theprofessional inquirer, are glad to have the results which naturalistshave attained, so far as they may serve to extend knowledge of thingswhich lie in the field of familiar experiences. To the text as it atfirst appeared, numerous additions have been made, and the concludingchapters, on the Rights of Animals, and on the Problem of Domestication, are new. In them an effort is made to direct attention to the importanceof the problem of man's relation to the lower life which is about him, and which in the future far more than in the past is to be helped orhindered by his rule. Our life is made up of large problems; but thereseem few that are greater than this, which concerns our duty by thecreatures that share with us the blessings of existence, and over whichwe have come to rule. [Illustration: Sheep-Dogs Guarding a Flock at Night] THE DOG Ancestry of the Domesticated Dogs. --Early Uses of the Animal: Variations induced by Civilization. --Shepherd-dogs: their Peculiarities; other Breeds. --Possible Intellectual Advances. --Evils of Specialized Breeding. --Likeness of Emotions of Dogs to those of Man: Comparison with other Domesticated Animals. --Modes of Expression of Emotions in Dogs. --Future Development of this Species. --Comparison of Dogs and Cats as regards Intelligence and Position in Relation to Man. It is an interesting fact that the first creature which man won todomesticity was made captive and friend for the sake of companionshiprather than for any grosser profit. The dog was, the world over, thefirst living possession of man beyond the limits of his own kindred. Hehas been so long separated from the primitive species whence he sprangthat we cannot trace with any certainty his kinship with the creaturesof the wilderness. Like his master he has become so artificialized thatit is hard to conjecture what his original state may have been. Naturalists are much divided in opinion in all that relates to theorigin of our ancient and common domesticated animals; and this for thereason that the longer a creature has been subjected to thechange-bringing conditions of our fields and households, the further ithas departed from the parent stock. This difficulty is naturally thegreatest in the case of the dogs, for the reason that they have beenlonger and more completely under the control of man than any other ofthe lower animals. Some students of the problem have inclined to theopinion that the dog is a descendant of the wolf; the whelps of thisspecies, it is supposed, were captured by primitive men and broughtunder domestication. Savages, like children, are much given to bringingthe young of wild animals to their homes; if the conditions arefavorable they will care for these captives, even if the charge upontheir resources is tolerably heavy. With most primitive people, however, life is so vagarious and starvation so recurrent that they are not aptto retain their pets long enough to establish domesticated forms. Thus, among our American Indians, though they show fondness for wild creaturesas much as any other people, no species save the dog ever becamepermanently associated with their tribe. It is, however, possible, thatin some sedentary group of savages the work of domesticating theancestors of the dog, even if they were wolf-like, was accomplished. The difficulty of this view is that even with the high measure of carewhich the conditions of civilization permit us to devote to theeffort, it has been found impossible to educate captive wolves to thepoint where they show any affection for their masters, or are in theleast degree useful in the arts of the household or the occupations ofthe chase. They are, in fact, indomitably fierce and utterlyself-regarding. It seems unreasonable to believe that any savage wouldhave found either pleasure or profit from an effort to tame any of theknown species of wolves. Moreover, the fact that dogs show little orno tendency to revert to the form and habits of their brutal kindred, or to interbreed with them, is clearly against the supposition thatthere is any close relation between the creatures. [Illustration: Greyhound after "the Kill"] Yet other speculative inquirers have sought the origin of the dogthrough the admixture of the blood of several different species, thewolf and the jackal being, perhaps, the principal or the only componentsof the hybrid stock. Here, too, the evidence of nature is against thesupposition. No one has ever succeeded in hybridizing the wolf and thejackal, nor do our dogs show any more tendency to revert to the jackalthan to the wolf. They meet their tropical relative with as muchanimosity as is proper, or at least customary, in the intercourse ofallied yet distinct species. In fact, all the indices by which we areable to carry back the history of other domesticated animals to theirprimitive or even extinct ancestry, fail in the case of the dog. Whenthe stock is allowed to go as nearly wild as they can be induced tobecome, we do not find that they thereby approach to any known wildform. It therefore seems reasonable to betake ourselves to anotherbasis for the natural history of the dog, which has not yet been made amatter of much inquiry, but which promises to afford us more substantialtruth than the conjectures which we have just considered. We should, in the first place, note the fact that the ancestors of ourmore important domesticated animals, those which have been longest insubjugation, have commonly disappeared from the wild state--the species, except for the cultivated forms, having gone into the irrecoverablepast. This is the case with the wild kindred of our bulls, horses, sheep, and camels, there probably being none of the original wildspecies of these groups now living, except those which have been moreor less completely subjugated by man, and then have returned to thewilderness. The fact is, that with any large mammal the domesticationof the species tends to bring about the destruction of the remainingwild forms. If we go back in fancy to the time when the dog was takenin from the wilderness, we readily perceive how certainly thesubjugated individuals would have mingled with their wild kindred, sothat either the wild would have become tame or _vice versa_. The sameincompatibility which exists between slavery and freedom in our ownspecies in any given territory may be said to hold in the case ofcaptive animals. It is particularly on this account that I am disposedto think that our races of dogs have been derived from one or moreoriginal species of truly canine ancestors, the wild forms of whichhave long since disappeared from the earth. [Illustration: St. Bernard] Although there are no species of wild dogs now in existence to which wecan refer the origin of our household friends, there are several knownto us only in their fossil state, from which they may possibly--indeed, we may say probably--have been derived. These creatures are, of course, represented only by their skeletons, and even these remains have onlybeen found in an imperfect state of preservation. It is evident, however, that these extinct species, or at least certain of them, liveddown to the time when man had come upon the earth, and was beginning tospeculate on his surroundings for such company and help as he might wintherefrom. It may interest the reader to know that a species of Americandog existed in the Southern Appalachians down to a very recenttime--recent, at least, in a geological sense. The remains of one ofthese animals were found by the writer in a cave in East Tennessee, nearCumberland Gap. From the fragments of the skeleton, Mr. J. A. Allen hasdescribed the species. The animal appears to have been of moderatesize, and, from the position of the bones, it seems tolerably certainthat it lived but a few centuries ago. It is clearly a reasonable supposition that some of these primitivecanine species may have been far more domesticable than the existingkindred of the dog--the wolves, foxes, jackals, or hyenas--differingfrom their fiercer kindred much as the zebras do from the wild asses, the one form being utterly undomesticable, and the other lending itsback almost willingly to the burdens which man chooses to impose. Itseems likely that this primitive species--perhaps more than one--whencethe dog sprang was not a very vigorous or widespread form; else, asbefore remarked, a savage would have found it impossible to keep hishalf-tamed creatures from rejoining their wild kinsmen. Thus, if a manshould in this day succeed in taming wolves, in a region where they wereplenty, to the point where they began to abide his presence, or even tohave some slight affection for him, the call of nature would be likelyto lead them back to reunion with their kind. It seems pretty certain that the first steps in the domestication of thedog must be attributed not to any distinct purpose of acquiring a usefulcompanion, but to that vague instinct which leads children to makecaptives of any wild animals with which they come in contact. The fancyfor pets is not only common to all mankind, civilized and savage alike, but is clearly exhibited in many of the mammals below the level of man. Almost every one has observed cases where dogs, cats, and horses havebecome attached to some creature of an alien species with which theyhave been by chance thrown in contact. The higher the grade of theintelligence, the more sympathetic with other life the animal is likelyto become. Thus the elephants, whose natural endowments in the way ofintelligence are perhaps superior to those of any other wild creatures, are, when brought into captivity, curiously prone to form attachments tohuman beings. Savages appear to make but little use of their dogs inhunting. In fact, those peculiar combinations of instinct and trainingwhich we find in our hounds, pointers, setters, and other dogs whichhave been bred to serve the purposes of sportsmen, have been acquiredbut slowly, and are of no value except where the search for game iscarried on under what we may term civilized conditions. The dog of thesavage is in all countries much like his master--a creature with fewarts and unaccustomed to subdue his rude native impulses. [Illustration: Spaniel Retrieving Wild Duck] It seems most likely that for ages the principal use of the dog whichdwelt about the camps of the primitive people was found in the reservefood supply which they afforded their thriftless masters. When thehunting was successful the poor brutes had a chance to wax fat, andeven in times of scarcity they managed to pick up enough food to keepthem alive. When their masters were brought to a state of famine theywere doubtless accustomed, as are many savages at the present time, toeat a portion of their pack. In the early conditions of humanity therewas no other beast which could be made to serve so well this simpleneed in the way of provender. The dog is, in fact, the only animalever domesticated which can be trusted through his own affectionsalone to abide with his master in the endless changes of camp and therapid movements of flight and chase which characterized men beforetheir housed state began. In a certain curious way the use of dogs forfood has served greatly to advance the development of these captives. When the savage was driven to feed upon his dogs he was naturally morewilling to sacrifice the least intelligent and affectionate of them, delaying, to the point of extremity, the time when he would kill thosewhich had endeared themselves to him. In this way for ages a carefulthough unintended process of selection was applied to these creatures, and to it we may fairly attribute, as many considerate naturalistshave done, a large part of the intellectual--indeed, we may saymoral--elevation to which they have attained. When the place of the dog as the first and most intimate companion ofman was affirmed in the rude way above described--when the savagery towhich he was at first made free gradually enlarged to civilization, anumber of special uses were found for the peculiar capacities of thecreature. These varied in the different parts of the world, accordingto the peculiarities in the conditions of the masters. In highlatitudes, where the ground is snow-covered during the winter season, dogs were used, as they are to this day, in dragging sleds. They were, indeed, perhaps the first animals which were harnessed to vehicles. Whenthey were brought to serve this definite end, we may well believe thatthe stronger and more enduring individuals were spared in times ofdearth for the reason that they were almost indispensable to theirmasters, and even the little forethought which we find among primitivepeoples would lead to their preservation. Here again, doubtless, came inthe process of unintended selection which has made the Esquimau sled-dogone of the most remarkable varieties of his kind. Perhaps the most interesting of the early variations induced amongdogs is that which has arisen from the pastoral habit. We do not knowwhen this custom of keeping sheep in large flocks was firstinstituted, but it is evidently of exceeding antiquity, probably farolder than the pyramids of Egypt. The custom could hardly have beeninstituted without help of the shepherd's mate, the sheep-dog. Although the creatures of this breed are probably in form very near tothe original wild species whence our canines came, the variety has asregards its instincts been, by a process of education and selection, led very far away from the original stock. The wild forefathers of this species were clearly natural bornsheep-slayers, and the motive abides to this day in all the breeds whichhave the strength to assail our unresisting flocks. The spirit is soingrained that even the most civilized of our house-dogs, which may forgenerations never have tasted blood and which show no disposition toattack the other animals of the barn-yard, cannot be trusted alone withsheep. When two or more of them are together the old instincts of thewild pack return, and they will slay with insensate brutality until theyare fairly exhausted with their fury. Their behavior on such occasionsreminds one of the actions of their masters when possessed with theblind rage of a mob. Yet in the shepherd-dog we find this ancestralmotive, once a large part of the life of the creature, so overcome byeducation and selection that they will not only care for a flock withall the devotion which self-interest can lead the master to give to thetask, but they will cheerfully undergo almost any measure of privationin order to protect their charges from harm. The annals of shepherddistricts, especially those where winter snows fall deeply, as inScotland, abound in anecdotes of a well-attested nature which show howprofoundly the dogs which tend the flocks are imbued with the love ofthe animals committed to their care. This affection is more curious forthe reason that it is never in any measure returned by the sheep. Tothem the custodian is ever a dreaded overseer. He seems to bring to themnothing but the memories of danger derived from the experience whichtheir species acquired in far-away times. It is very interesting to note the behavior of a young shepherd-dog whenhe is first brought in contact with a flock. It is easy to see that hehas an amazingly keen interest in the sheep. He regards them with anattention which he gives to no other living things, except perhaps hismaster. Out of a litter of well-bred pups belonging to this variety, thegreater part will at once assume a curatorial attitude toward a flock. They will show a disposition to keep them together, and will seize onan individual only in case he undertakes to break away. They willgenerally use no more force than is necessary to reduce the recalcitrantto order. They arrest him by catching hold of the leg or fleece, andrarely seize hold of the throat, which other dogs, led by theirinherited instincts, are apt at once to assail. Very rarely does ashepherd-dog of good ancestry, even at the outset of his career, attacka sheep in a way which shows that the ancient proclivities have beenrevived in his spirit. Even then a little remonstrance, or at most aslight castigation, is pretty sure to turn him from his evil ways. If wecould measure in some visible manner the psychic peculiarities ofanimals, we would be led to regard this great change in the instincts ofthe dog, which has been brought about by his use in herding, as perhapsthe most momentous transformation which man has ever accomplished in anycreature, including himself; for none of our own inherited savage traitsare so completely sublated at the time of our birth as is this old andsometime dominant slaying motive in the shepherd-dog. With the advancing differentiation of human occupations and amusements, our breeds of dogs have, by more or less deliberate selection, beendeveloped until by form and instincts they fit a great variety ofpurposes. Some of these pertain to industrial work, but the greaterportion are related to the sports or fancies of men. The turnspit wasbred for its short legs and small, compact body, and was serviceable inthose treadmills of the hearth which have long since passed out of use, but which were for centuries features in our kitchens. [Illustration: Bull-Dog] The massive type of bull-dogs, characterized by heavy frames and anindomitable will, appears to have been brought about by a process ofselection having for its unconscious end the development of a breedwhich should render the herdsman of horned cattle something like theassistance which the shepherd-dog gave to those who had charge offlocks. In the more primitive state of our bulls and cows thecreatures were much wilder than at present, and were generally kept, not in enclosed pastures, but on unfenced ranges. In these conditionsthe care taken needed the help which the ancestors of our modernbull-dog afforded. The tasks which the animal was called on to performwere of a ruder nature than those which were allotted to theshepherd-dog. Their business was to conquer the unruly beast. Theywere taught to seize the muzzle, and by the pain they thus inflictedthey could subdue even the fiercer small bulls of the ancient type ofform. From this original use the cattle-dogs were turned to the brutalsport of bull-baiting, a rude diversion which was indulged in by ourancestors for centuries, and has only disappeared in our less cruelmodern days. Bred for the bull-ring, these dogs acquired theformidable strength and ferocity under excitement which made theirname a terror and their qualities a satirical embodiment of the rudertraits which characterized the British folk. The training which instituted the breed of bull-dogs was evidentlymuch less continuous and effective than that which developed theshepherding variety. The use for the creature in the care of herds haspassed away. In the older parts of the world cattle are kept only inenclosures; and where, as on our frontier, they still range overunbounded fields, they are guarded by horsemen who do not need theassistance of dogs to control the movements of the herds. No longerserviceable either in economies or sports, the breed of true bull-dogsis rapidly disappearing. As we may often observe in other fields ofdevelopment, the peculiarities of this breed are now under the controlof fancy, and the blood is being led far away from its oldcharacteristics. The bull-terrier and other varieties, which retainsomething of the form and of the solemn demeanor which characterizedtheir ancestors, but which are too small to assail horned cattle, markthe vanishing stages of this great stock, which will soon be knownonly in memory. The history of this peculiar herd-dog shows us howmarvellously pliant the body and mind of this species has become underthe conditions of civilization. The rude process of unconsciousselection, acting without steadfastness of purpose or rationallydeveloped skill, serves to sway the qualities of the animal this wayor that to meet the ever-changing requirements of use or fancy. Asimilar selection in the case of our horned cattle has within a fewcenturies converted the cows into mild-mannered and sedentarymilk-making machines, and has deprived the bulls of the greater partof their ancient savage humor. Owing to this change in the quality oftheir associates in captivity the dogs have also been led into greatvariations. The same type of interaction may be traced again and againin the isolated part of the world enclosed within our fences, as wellas in the free realm of the wildernesses. All the individuals in thegreat host of life affect each other as do the soldiers of awell-organized army in the movements of a battle. The shepherd-dog, the turnspit, and the bull-dog are the threeremarkable variations of the canine blood which were brought about bya process of training and selection unconsciously directed to theinstitution of breeds suited to special economic ends. The othervarieties of dogs have been shaped more distinctly for purposes ofamusement or for the indulgence of mere fancy. The several varietiesof hounds, harriers, beagles, pointers, setters, terriers, etc. , havebeen designed to meet a dozen or more variations in the conditions ofthe chase. The marvellously complete way in which specialpeculiarities have been developed in mind and body makes this field ofdomestic culture the most fascinating subject of inquiry to thenaturalist. The ordinary fox-hound has had his inheritances determinedso as to fit him for pursuing a small animal which can rarely be keptin view during its flight, and which can only be followed by the odorit leaves in its trail, so these creatures run almost altogether underguidance of their sense of smell. The stag-hound, on the other hand, pursues a relatively large animal which cannot well be followed by thenose, at least with any speed; they therefore trust almost altogetherto vision in their chase. The packs which hunt otters have developedthe swimming habit and an array of instincts which fit themespecially for this peculiar sport. If space allowed we could note atleast a dozen divisions of the group of hounds or chasing dogs, eachof which has developed a peculiar assemblage of qualities, more orless precisely adapted to some particular game. [Illustration: Fox-Hound and Pups] Perhaps the most special adaption which man has brought about in hisdomesticated animals is found in our pointers and setters. In thesegroups the dogs have been taught, in somewhat diverse ways, toindicate the presence of birds to the gunner. Although the modes ofaction of these two breeds are closely related, they are sufficientlydistinct to meet certain differences of circumstances. Thepeculiarities of their actions, it should be noted, are altogetherrelated to the qualities of our fowling-pieces. These have been inuse, at least in the form where shot took the place of the singleball, for less than two centuries, and the peculiar training of ourpointers and setters has been brought about in even less time. Itseems likely, indeed, that it is the result of about a hundred andfifty years of teaching, combined with the selection which soeffectively works upon all our domesticated creatures. It thus appearsthat this peculiar impress upon the habits of the hunting-dog is theresult of somewhere near thirty generations of culture. [Illustration: Pointer Retrieving a Fallen Bird] Although, as has been often suggested, the pointing or setting habitprobably rests upon an original custom of pausing for a moment beforeleaping upon their prey, which was possibly characteristic of the wilddog, it seems to me unlikely that this is the case, for we do not findthis habit of creeping on the prey among our more primitive forms ofdogs nor the wild allied species as a marked feature. All the canineanimals trust rather to furious chase than to the cautious form ofassault by stealthy approach and a final spring upon their prey, as isthe habit with the cat tribe. Granting this somewhat doubtful claim thatthe induced habits of these dogs which have been specially adapted tothe fowling-piece rest upon an original and native instinct, the amountof specialization which has been attained in about thirty generations ofcare remains a very surprising feature, and affords one of the mostinstructive lessons as to the possibilities of animal culture. [Illustration: Pointer and Setter, Flushing Game] It is an interesting fact that the variation of a spontaneous sort, which is now taking place in our pointers and setters, isconsiderable. It is, perhaps, more distinctly indicated here than inany other of the breeds which are characterized by peculiarqualities of mind. All those familiar with the behavior of thesestrains of dogs have observed the high measure of individualitywhich characterizes them. I have recently been informed by a friend, who is a hunter and a very observing naturalist, of one of thesevariations in the pointer's instinct, which may, by carefulselection, possibly lead to a very useful change in the habits ofthe animal. Hunting the Virginia partridge in the tall grass on thesea-coast of Georgia, his dog found by experience that his mastercould not discern him when he was pointing birds, and that a yelp ofimpatience would put up the covey before the gun was ready for them. The sagacious dog, therefore, adopted the habit of backing away fromthe point where he first fixed himself, so that he, by barking, denoted the presence of the birds without giving them alarm. Although, in this first instance, the action is purely rational, andis indeed good evidence of singular discernment and contrivingskill, it seems likely that by careful breeding it may be broughtinto the realm of pure instinct or inherited habit. The great variation in habits which is taking place in those varietiesof dogs which are immediately under the master's eye during all theprocess of the chase, is easily explained by the fact that thesecreatures are in a position to be immediately and constantlyinfluenced during their most active, and therefore teachable state ofmind, by the will of man. A pack of fox-hounds is, to a great extent, out of hand while engaged in the pursuit of their prey; but a pointeror setter, even when under extreme excitement, is almost completelymastered by the superior will. When we observe the extent to whichhuman intelligence is affecting the qualities of our hunting-dogs, itis not surprising to note that, in almost every district where thereare peculiar kinds of game, varieties of the dog are developing whichare especially adapted to its pursuit. Thus, in the parts of NorthAmerica where the raccoon abounds, a variety of hunting-dog is inprocess of development which has a singular assemblage of qualitieswhich fit it for this peculiar form of the chase. Although as yet"coon-dogs" have not been cultivated for a sufficient time to acquiredistinct physical characteristics, their habits exhibit a larger rangeof specialization than those of any other breed of sporting dogs. In those parts of the Americas where peccaries are hunted, the dogsused in their pursuit have learned to beware of assaulting the packwhich they have brought to bay, and instead of indulging in theinstinct which leads them into that way of danger and of certaindeath, they circle round the assemblage, compelling them to show fronton every side and so to remain stationary until the hunters come up. Perhaps a score of similar specializations in the modes of action ofour dogs which are employed in the chase could be recited; but as theyall lead us to one conclusion--which is to the effect that thesecreatures are, as far as their mental powers are concerned, like clayin the hands of the potter--we may pass them by for someconsiderations which appear to have escaped the attention of writerswho have discussed the problems of canine intelligence. The singular elasticity as regards both mental and physical qualitieswhich the dog exhibits, may well be compared with the other conditionswhich we find in certain of our domesticated animals, as, for instance, in the horse, where the mind shows but slight changes, and where thebody has proved far less plastic than among dogs. The readiness withwhich the proportions of the dog may, by the breeder's art, be made tovary, is probably due to the fact that the group to which this creaturebelongs is one of relatively modern institution. It has the plasticitywhich we note as a characteristic of many other newly-established forms. The flexibility of mind is a concomitant of the carnivorous habit wherecreatures obtain their prey by the chase. Such an occupation tends todevelop agile minds as well as bodies, and where exercised as itdoubtless was by the ancestry of the dog, in the manner of pack hunting, where many individuals share in the chase, it is well calculated toinsure a certain free and outgoing quality of the mind. [Illustration: Dutch Dogs used in Harness] So long as our dogs were employed in the labor or the organizedrecreations of man, the tendency of the association with the superiorbeing was in a high measure educative. They were constantly submittedto a more or less critical but always effective selection whichtended ever to develop a higher grade of intelligence. With theadvance in the organization of society the dog is losing something ofhis utility, even in the way of sport. He is fast becoming a mereidle favorite, prized for unimportant peculiarities of form. Theeffort in the main is not now to make creatures which can help in theemployments of man, but to breed for show alone, demanding no moreintelligence than is necessary to make the animal a well-behaveddenizen of a house. The result is the institution of a wonderfulvariety in the size, shape, and special peculiarities of differentbreeds with what appears to be a concomitant loss in theirintelligence. We often hear it remarked by those who are familiarwith dogs that the ordinary mongrels are more intelligent and moresusceptible of high training than the carefully inbred varieties, which are more highly prized because they conform to some thoroughlyartificial standard of form or coloring. This is what we shouldexpect from all we know concerning the breeding. Where forgenerations the dog-fancier has selected for reproduction withreference to the trifling and often injurious features of shape heseeks to attain, he naturally and almost necessarily neglects tochoose the creatures in regard to their mental peculiarities. Theresult is that the breed tends to fall back in these regards to belowthe level of the ordinary cur, who makes his place in the affectionsof his owner because he has attractive or useful qualities of mind. It appears to me, in a word, that our treatment of this noble animal, where he is bred for ornament, is in effect degrading. Although the formation of our fancy breeds does not serve to advance thedevelopment of those intellectual features which are the mostinteresting part of our dogs, the experiments have served to show theamazing physical plasticity of this species under the conditions of longdomestication. The range in size between a tiny spaniel, such as thosewhich are bred in Chihuahua, in northern Mexico, and the great Danes ormastiffs of northern Europe, is, perhaps, the greatest which has everbeen attained in any mammal. In some cases the larger individualsbelonging to the mastiff breed probably weigh nearly thirty times asmuch as their smaller kinsmen. Great as are these variations, they areonly in form and bulk. They involve none of those curious changes in thenumber of bones of the skeleton which we may trace among thedomesticated pigeons. We therefore turn from these results of breeders'fancy to consider certain of the mental qualities of dogs which have notcome in our way in our review of the history of its relations to man. First of all, we may note the fact that the friendly relations whichdogs have become accustomed to form with men vary exceedingly in theirrange and activity. Perhaps in no other regard does the dog exhibitsuch distinctly human characteristics as in the way in which he meetsthe individuals of the mastering species. The gamut of their socialrelations with men is almost exactly parallel with our own. With fromone to a dozen persons a dog may maintain an attitude of almost equallycomplete sympathy and mutual understanding. He may be on terms ofacquaintanceship in varied degrees of familiarity with a few scoreothers with whom he comes in frequent contact. Toward the rest ofmankind he maintains a position of more or less complete distrust, which with experience may attain the indifference which men commonlyshow toward perfect strangers. If we observe a dog going along amuch-frequented street, we may note that his relations to the peopleare substantially those which the folk have to each other. He shows asthey do a certain consideration for the individuals he encounters, gives them their due place, and yet holds to his own. It isparticularly noticeable that he avoids all contact with the otherpassers--in fact a dog has to be much beside himself with rage or fear, or insane from disease, before he will break those bounds ofpersonality which civilization has set up to guide the conduct of life. [Illustration: King Charles Spaniel] The social culture of dogs appears to have gone to the point wherethey recognize the meaning of an introduction--at least as far as thesympathetic relations of that understanding are concerned. Almost anywell-bred dog will submit to be presented by his master, or even bypersons whom he knows but is not accustomed to obey, to a stranger towhom he has already exhibited some dislike. During the introductionhe will submit to those formal exchanges of courtesy which he isaccustomed to recognize as the indices of friendship. The impressionof this understanding seems to be so permanent that on subsequentmeetings the dog, though he may maintain his original dislike of theman who has been forced upon his acquaintance, will continue to treathim with a certain consideration, though it is often easy to see thatit is a difficult matter for him to conform to the requirements ofsociety. When we compare the conduct of dogs in these regards withthe behavior of other animals, even highly domesticated forms, weperceive how marvellously successful has been man's unconsciouseffort to mould this creature on his own nature. Another extremely human characteristic of our canine friends is shownin their susceptibility to ridicule. Faint traces of this quality areto be found in monkeys and perhaps even in the more intelligent horses, but nowhere else save in man, and hardly there, except in the moresensitive natures, do we find contempt, expressed in laughter of thekind which conveys that emotion, so keenly and painfully appreciated. With those dogs which are endowed with a large human quality, such asour various breeds of hounds, it is possible by laughing in their facesnot only to quell their rage, but to drive them to a distance. Theyseem in a way to be put to shame and at the same time hopelesslypuzzled as to the nature of their predicament. In this connection wemay note the very human feature that after you have cowed a dog byinsistent laughter you can never hope to make friends with him. A caseof this kind is fresh in my experience. A year or two ago I wasimprudent enough to laugh at a very intelligent dog in my neighborhood, he having unreasonably assailed me at my house-door, where he had beenleft for a long time to wait while his owner was within and had therebybeen brought into an unhappy state of mind. Sympathizing with hissituation, I preferred to laugh him out of his humor rather than tobeat him with my stick. I regret I did not take the other alternative, for I made the poor brute my implacable enemy by my pretence ofcontempt for him. I am inclined to think that if I had beaten him thematter could have been arranged afterward in a friendly way. [Illustration: The Pounce of a Terrier] Another very remarkable and I believe hitherto unnoticed likenessbetween the mind of dogs and that of man is found in the fact thatthese dumb beasts, unlike all other inferior animals, except, perhaps, some of the more intelligent species of monkeys, will learn lessonsfrom isolated experiences. In this regard they are indeed quite as aptas the lower kinds of men. Thus a dog who has had an unsavory orpainful experience with a skunk or a porcupine is apt to keep awayfrom these creatures for a long time thereafter. Where, as is notinfrequently the case, a cur takes to eating eggs, a single dose oftartar emetic concealed in an egg which is placed where he can readilyfind it, is apt to effect an immediate and complete reform. This readylearning from experience is almost the gist of our human quality--atleast on the intellectual side of it. Perhaps the greatest success to which man has attained in his educationof the dog is to be found in the measure in which he has overcome thefierce rage which clearly characterized the ancestors of this creaturewhen they first felt the mastering hand. The reader cannot understandthe intensity of the rage motive in the carnivora unless he has studiedsome of these brutes in their wild state, where from the time in theremote ages when they first began to take on the qualities of theirspecies they have survived and won success by the fury of their assault. In almost all our breeds of dogs this primal ferocity has been overlaidby the various motives of rationality, sympathy, and conventionaldemeanor, until one may live half a lifetime with well-bred dogs withouta chance to see the demon which we have buried in their breasts, as wehave in our own, beneath a host of civilizing influences. It is rareindeed in our day that a dog, unless insane, will bite a human being. The most of their assaults are pure bluster, mere pretence of fury, asis shown by the fact that if, carried away by their pretence, they areled to use their teeth, it is usually a mere sham assault, having nosemblance of the effectiveness of true combat. Something of the pristine fury of the primitive dogs may still be notedin a certain brutal variety of watch-dogs which are still to be found inparts of continental Europe. The best types of this breed which I haveever seen are to be found among the dogs which are kept to guard thequarries of Solenhofen, in Bavaria, whence come all the finelithographic stones which are so extensively used in printing. Thesequarries are scattered over several square miles of untilled country, and the separate pits are to be numbered by the score. As much valuablestone is necessarily left over night in the quarries, their care isconfined to packs of watch-dogs which are turned loose at night andappear as if by instinct to spend the hours of darkness in prowling overthe territory. Such is their size and ferocity that it takes a sturdybeggar to face them. I remember inadvertently disturbing one of thesebrutes from sleep, in the strong cage where he was confined, and I havenever beheld such a picture of blind fury as he exhibited. I had notcome within twenty feet of him, and was merely moving past his place ofconfinement; yet he sprang to the grating and strove with his teeth tobreak his way through the bars. I thought the animal must be mad, buthis keeper assured me that such was his ordinary state of mind and thatthe humor was common to all the breed; even the masters dwelt in fear ofthem. Ordinarily the only exhibitions of the innate ferocity of our dogsare to be seen in their combats with each other, when for a time thecreatures return to their primitive state of mind. Even these occasionalexhibitions of fury are not found among all breeds of dogs, and amongmany individuals even of the combative strains of blood the motive ofbattle appears to have quite passed away. [Illustration: Pomeranian or "Spitz"] In antithesis to the old Ishmaelitic humor of our primitive dogs, manhas developed a singular, sympathetic, and kindly motive in thesecreatures. From the point of view of the dog's education we must notset too much store by his affection for his master. This kind ofdevotion of one being to another is displayed elsewhere in the animalkingdom, though it is more common among birds than among mammals. Wefind traces of it in the greater part of our domesticated creatures orin those which we have individually adopted from the wilderness. It is apart of the great sympathetic motive, which, originating far down in theseries of animals, increases as they gain in the scale of being, untilit reaches the highest level it has yet attained in spiritually mindedmen. The eminent peculiarity in the case of a dog is that the verycentre of his life is formed of the affections, which are evidently thesame as those which rule the days of the most cultivated men. To himthese elements of friendliness are absolutely necessary to a comfortableexistence. If by chance he becomes separated from his master and theother people with whom he is familiar, his bereavement is intense; butin most cases, at the end of a day or two, he is compelled to form newbonds, and he sets about the task in an exceedingly human way. I dwellin a town where dogs abound and where the frequent coming and going ofthe people puts many of the creatures astray. Perhaps as often as once aweek, almost always late in the evening, one of these unhappy lost onesseeks to make friends with me. His advances toward this end always beginby his dogging my footsteps at a little distance. If I do not repulsehim he will come nearer until he has made sure of my attention. Afriendly word will bring him to my hand; but his behavior is nevereffusive, as it would be if he had found his rightful owner, but mildlypropitiative and with a touch of sadness. There is, it seems to me, noother feature in the life of the dog which tells so much as to his moralnature as his conduct under these unhappy circumstances. [Illustration: Poodles] In the long catalogue of human qualities which characterize ourthoroughly domesticated dogs, we must not fail to take account oftheir sense of property. In this the creature differs from all otherof our domesticated animals. It is a common characteristic of mammals, both in their wild and tame state, that they feel a motive ofownership in the food which they have captured or in the den whichthey have made their lair; but beyond these narrow personal limits wesee no evidence of any sense of ownership in land or effects. Wereadily observe, however, that our household dogs not only know thechattels of their master and distinguish them from those of otherpeople, but they also learn to recognize the bounds of their house-lotor even of a considerable farm. When a dog, even of a militantquality, enters on territory which he does not feel to belong to him, he is at once a very different creature as compared to his conditionwhen he is on his own land. He treads warily and will accept withoutdispute an order to take himself off. A perception of this sortindicates an extraordinary amount of sympathy and discernment. Itrequires us to assume that the creature has a good sense of topographyand that he observes closely the various acts, none of them perhapsvery indicative, which go to show the limits of his master's claims. Although the mental qualities of our highly domesticated dogs aresingularly like those of their masters, the likeness going to thepoint that the household pet is apt to have acquired something of thegeneral character of the people with whom he dwells, there are manysuggestive differences arising from failures of development which arein the highest measure interesting to those who study the species. Wenote, in the first place, that although for ages in contact with theconstructive work which occupies his masters, the dog shows notendency whatever to essay any undertakings of this nature. He isquite alive to considerations of personal comfort and is particularlyfond of a warm bed; yet, except for a few unverified stories, we maysay that there is no evidence whatever to show that they ever try toimprove their conditions by deliberately providing themselves with warmbedding. In no well-attested case has a dog shown any sense as to thenature of any mechanical contrivance. They will learn which way a dooropens, and rarely if ever do they undiscerningly close it when it isslightly ajar and they wish to pass through the opening; but I havenever been able to observe or obtain evidence to show that they wouldwithout teaching pull down a latch in the way in which a cat readilylearns to do. Much as dogs have had to do with guns, they display nokind of interest in the arms except so far as they are tokens of sportto come. They connect the explosion with the capture of game, and willsearch for it in the direction toward which the barrel was pointed. Ihave not, however, been able to find that they know, as they mightreadily do, and as a crow would surely do, when the weapon was loadedand when empty. They show no interest in it, such as monkeys readilydisplay toward any mechanical contrivance to which their attention hasbeen directed. All these negative features indicate that the mechanicalside of the canine mind is entirely undeveloped. [Illustration: Collie] Although there is some evidence that the sense of number attains ameasure of development in dogs, the ability to form mathematicalconceptions of any kind appears to be very weak in this species. Thefact that shepherd-dogs, in a way, keep an account of considerableflocks so that they will know when one is gone astray, can readily beexplained on the supposition that they know their charges individuallyand not in sum. The absence of arithmetical capacity is, however, lessimportant than the lack of mechanical sense, for the reason that suchincapacity is also common in the lowest races of men. Although dogs, asbefore noted, quickly and clearly acquire a notion of property rights inall which pertains to their owner's holdings, they appear never toextend their sense of their own personal possessions beyond the originallimit to which they had attained when the species was domesticated. Thecreature feels a sense of personal property in his food and in hissleeping-place, but appears not to extend his conception of individualrights beyond these primitively established limits. All our well-bred household dogs quickly learn certain bodily habitswhich are necessary to make them acceptable members of a household. These habits are not well affirmed by inherited instinct, but the easewith which the instruction is acquired shows that they have become proneto submit to such regulations. Culture on this line rests upon a primalinstinct, originating we know not how, which leads a number of wildanimals to conceal their excrement. On the other hand, these creaturesexhibit no sense of modesty, though that, in a more or less completemeasure, is characteristic of all human tribes whatsoever. As regards the memory, dogs appear to have a considerably greatermeasure of capacity than is observable in any other group ofdomesticated animals. There is no question that they can recall theirassociations with people from whom they have been separated for a yearor more. Some trustworthy anecdotes appear to establish the fact thatthe recollections may endure for two or three years. I have observedan instance in which the memory seems perfectly clear after aninterval of eighteen months, and this concerned a person who had beenwith the dog for a period of not more than four days. It isinteresting to note the behavior of a dog when he has failed torecognize a person whom he has known well, but from whom he has beenlong separated. I have a shepherd-dog that has known me well, but thefriendship is often interrupted by partings of some months' duration. When, after one of these absences, I appear to him in the distance, hecomes furiously towards me, quite possessed by his enmity. At a certainpoint in his charge a doubt begins to beset him; he moderates his pace;his roaring bark passes into a whine; and as the full measure of hisblunder is borne in upon him by my voice, he becomes the picture ofshame. In his perplexity, he always finds relief in endeavoring withhis paw to scrape a supposititious fly from the side of his nose. Hethen deals with what I suppose to be an equally imaginary flea; afterhe has thus gained a few seconds for readjustment, he welcomes mejoyously. All this is so thoroughly human-like, that even thenaturalist, the professional doubter, is forced to believe that thedog's mind works substantially as his own, and that the feelingsconnected with the action are essentially the same. While in the case of the elephant and the pig, and in a less measurein several other of the lower animals, we have indices of as high oreven higher intelligence than the dog, no other brute shows anythinglike the same measure of what we may term human quality. So far as thefield of the emotions is concerned, we are driven to believe that ithas been bred into the kind by the ages of intimate associations, supported by the selective process which has led people to preservethe individual of the species with which they found themselves themost in sympathy. I repeat the suggestion, and shall repeat it yetagain, for the reason that just here--how effectively the reader'simagination will suggest--we find a basis for the hope that, withtime and care, man may bring his subjects of the lower realm into amore intimate, affectionate, and helpful relation than is dreamed ofby those who look upon them as mere brutes. The most curious limitation which we find in dogs is as to the measureof expression to which they have attained. No one who has wellconsidered the facts can doubt that our civilized varieties of thisspecies have something like a hundred times as much which deservesutterance as their savage forefathers possessed. Yet the capacity forgiving note to these thoughts or emotions has not gained anything likethe proportion to the needs. It seems, however, that some gain in thisdirection has been made, and that much may be won hereafter in the wayof further advance. Never having known the species whence our dogs camein its wild state, we are uncertain as to its modes of expression; but, observing the varieties of dogs which are kept by savages, it seemsprobable that the primitive canines used their voice only in howling oryelping; that is, as a continuous sound akin to the bellowings or othercries of the various wild mammals. It is characteristic of all theseprimitive forms of utterance that they are, to a great extent, involuntary, and that when the outcry is begun it continues in amechanical manner, with no trace of modulation arising from theconditions of the moment. In other words, these actions resemble, in away, sneezing or hiccoughing in human kind; actions which arestimulated by certain states of the body, but which are not at allunder the control of the will. Howling or bellowing doubtlessrepresents, in a measure, a state of mind as well as of body, but theaction is of a general and uncontrolled kind. The effect of advancing culture upon a dog has been gradually todecrease this ancient undifferentiated mode of expression afforded byhowling and yelping, and to replace it by the much more speech-likebark. There is some doubt whether the dogs possessed by savages have thepower of uttering the sharp, specialized note which is so characteristicof the civilized forms of their species. It is clear, however, that ifthey have the capacity of thus expressing themselves, they use it butrarely. On the other hand, our high-bred dogs have, to a great extent, lost the habit of expressing themselves in the ancient way. Many of ourbreeds appear to have become incapable of ululating. There is no doubtbut this change in the mode of expression greatly increases the capacityof our dogs to set forth their states of mind. If we watch a high-breddog, one with a wide range of sensibilities, which we may find in breedswhich have long been closely associated with man, we may readily notefive or six varieties of sound in the bark, each of which is clearlyrelated to a certain state of mind. The bark of welcome, of fear, ofrage, of doubt, and of pure fun, are almost always perfectly distinct tothe educated ear, and this although the observer may not be acquaintedwith the creature; if he knows him well, he may be able to distinguishvarious other intonations--those which express impatience and even anelement of sorrow. This last note verges toward the howl. It does not seem to me that we should regard barking as a new anduseful invention; there are, indeed, few such in the organic world. Thesound appears to me to have been derived from the primitive habit ofhowling. If we hearken to this utterance we perceive that it is not anunbroken sound, but is somewhat intermittent. At either end of theprolonged sound we can often notice that it is divided into ratherdistinct yelps more or less completely separated from the other notes. The cries of a dog when beaten often exhibit the same peculiarity; so, too, the puppy, before he has attained skill in barking, will oftenprolong each utterance in a way which makes its relation to the ancientmode of expression tolerably clear. At the risk of being deemedfanciful, I venture to suggest that the bark is in effect a divisionof the howl into clearly separated notes, the change having come aboutas a similar alteration is effected in our own speech, by the increasein the intelligence which the creature is called upon to express. Iconceive that while the primitive and massive emotions foundsatisfying utterance in the long-drawn notes, the more divided stateof mind of the humanized successor has led to a change in itsutterances. Although these modifications of speech, if such we mayterm them, have probably been developed on the basis of the dog'shuman relations, there is, it seems to me, good reason to believe thatthe diversities in note have come to have a distinct conventionalvalue between the individuals of all the different breeds. Any one whoclosely observes these animals must have noticed the fact that thedegree of attention they give to the utterances of their kindredvaries in a way which indicates that they have great varieties ofdenotations. Some of the shades of the meaning which a dog's bark hasto others of his species probably escape our less fine ears. The creation of something like a language among our civilized dogshas naturally been accompanied by the development of an understandingof human speech. Although we cannot attach much importance to themass of anecdote on this point, there is enough which is wellattested--sufficient, indeed, which has come within the limits of myown observation--to make it clear that dogs, even without deliberateteaching, frequently acquire a tolerably clear understanding of anumber of words and even of short phrases. They will catch these notonly when given in distinct command, but when uttered in an ordinarytone, without any sign that they relate to their affairs. It is truethat these understood words generally relate to some action which thedog is accustomed to perform, yet there are instances so wellattested that they deserve credit, which seem to show that thecreatures can get some sense of the drift of conversation even whenit is carried on by persons with whom they are not familiar and doesnot clearly relate to their own affairs. It should be observed that within the narrow limits of this essay littleor no effort has been made to interpret the state of mind of dogs fromthe vast but rather untrustworthy mass of anecdote with which our booksare filled. So large a part of this evidence is contaminated byprepossessions, and a yet larger part is so unverified in any scientificsense, that for purposes of sound inquiry it is worthless. It thereforeseems best to limit ourselves, as has been done in this paper, to thosegeneral actions of the creatures which are matters of common knowledgeand safely beyond question. From these indices we are able to determinea basis for some important conclusions. These are in effect as follows, viz. : Our domestic dog is derived from a species, one or more, akin tothe wolf, the jackal, and the fox; to a group of animals notcharacterized by great native intelligence, but distinguished for theirferocity and their general untamableness. There is no reason to believethat the primitive dog had any more foundation for his great attainmentsthan his obstinately savage kindred, except that he may have had agreater disposition to form an attachment to a master. We can hardlybelieve that he had any share of that marvellous sympathy with manand understanding of his motives which characterize the high-bredvarieties of his species. All this vast transformation, which from apsychological point of view has carried the dog relatively as far upabove his origin as civilization has lifted man above his lowestestate, has been due to human intercourse and the long and effectiveconcomitant selection of good from bad. It is hardly too much to saythat a large part of our human nature has been transferred into thedescendants of this ancient wild beast. The sense of property, a greatpart of human affections, many of the attributes which constitute thegentleman, have been passed over to him. In considering the effects arising from the intercourse of man with thedog, we should not overlook the development of human sympathy which hascome about through this relation. The fact that the dog has been made byfar the most sympathetic of the lower animals, is due to the affectionwhich men for thousands of years have given to him. In his intercoursewith this creature, man first learned to develop his altruistic motivesbeyond the limits of his own kind. With this extension of his affectionmust have begun the growth of that large motive, which is the mostdistinguishing feature of our modern life, which leads us to go forth ina loving manner to the living beings about us, not only to our flocksand herds but to the life of the unsubjugated realm as well. Thus, in away, we may look upon the dog as affording the first steps on the pathof culture which was to lift man from his primitive selfishness to thealtruistic state to which he has attained. Great as has been the work of man upon the dog--it deserves, indeed, to be ranked high among all the accomplishments of his culture--thereis reason to believe that if he but go forward with understanding inthe ways which have hitherto led him blindly to his success, thefinal result may be very much more perfect than that which has beenattained. It is on this account that I feel it fit to make a strongprotest against the system our breeders pursue. Except in the case ofdogs used in sport and for herding sheep, the sole effort appears tobe to create breeds which shall exhibit peculiarities of form whichare mere extravagances, and move the real lover of this noble animalto indignation. In these preposterous and unseemly tasks no care istaken to continue the mental development on lines which have beenestablished by long use. Still less is there any effort to essay thedevelopment of the intelligence in ways which are clearly open to us, and which afford possibilities of lifting this species to a yetnobler companionship with our own kind. It seems worth while for our associations of dog fanciers to undertaketo develop varieties of dogs solely with reference to the intellectualqualities of the animal. I venture to suggest that those who seek thisend should select some of the primitive types of form, such as arefound among the undifferentiated mass of the species, those which areimproperly termed mongrels, and this for the reason that among theseunselected creatures the intelligence is quicker and more varied thanit is in the highly developed varieties. Under skilful trainers thesuccessive generations bred in the experimental station should besubjected to tests which will indicate the measure of intellectualability. The results already attained by the unconscious selectionwhich man has applied serve to indicate that at the end of a century, and perhaps in much less time, we might develop an animal which invarious ways would come to a closer intellectual relation with man thanany other lower species has attained. Cats deserve some mention for the reason, that, while they are the leastessential, and on the whole the least interesting, of domesticatedanimals, they have had a certain place in civilization. They afford, moreover, a capital foil by which to set off the virtues of the dog. Nowhere else, indeed, among the creatures which are intimatelyassociated with men, do we find two related forms which afford, alongwith a certain likeness, such great diversities of quality. We know nothing as to the time when the cat first found its way to theassociations of man. Presumably this period was much later than theadvent of the dog into the human family. The presumption rests upon thefact that while the dog does not demand fixed residence as a conditionof its fealty, but is at home wherever his master is, the cat is thecreature of the domicile, caring more indeed for its dwelling-place thanit ever does for the inmates thereof. In a word, the creature must havecome to us after our forefathers gave up the nomadic life. Nevertheless, the association is very ancient; it has endured in Egyptat least for a term of several thousand years. Among the curious features connected with the association of the catwith man, we may note that it is the only animal which has beentolerated, esteemed, and at times worshipped, without having asingle distinctly valuable quality. It is, in a small way, serviceable in keeping down the excessive development of smallrodents, which from the beginning have been the self-invited guestsof man. As it is in a certain indifferent way sympathetic, and byits caresses appears to indicate affection, it has awakened ameasure of sympathy which it hardly deserves. I have been unable tofind any authentic instances which go to show the existence in catsof any real love for their masters. In the matter of intelligence cats appear to rank almost as high asdogs. They are even quicker than their canine relatives indiscerning the nature of man's artful contrivances; they readilyacquire the habit of opening doors which are closed by means of alatch, even where it is necessary to combine the strong pull on thehandle with the push that completes the operation. Feats of thissort are rarely if ever performed by dogs. The most peculiar quality in the mind of cats is the intense way inwhich they cling to a well-known locality. Their memory of places, andaffection for them, if we may so term it, is evidently far greaterthan that which they feel for people. Some years ago I had aninteresting exhibition of this singular humor. A well-grown andthoroughly domesticated cat, one that seemed more than usuallyattached to people, was brought from my house in town to a place onthe shore. When released, the creature seemed for some days to benearly insane. It did not recognize any of its friends, it betookitself to the fields, and was with difficulty captured at the endof a week of roaming, during which it appeared to have had no food. Confined within one room, it gradually recovered its powers of mind, and began to take account of its friends. In the course of a month itseemed to be reconciled to its surroundings. Nine months after itsfirst sojourn in the wilderness it was again brought from the town tothe same place. On the second visit the creature was somewhat uneasy, but this passed away in a day or two. On a third visit, after a likeinterval, it seemed at once and entirely at home. Nevertheless, itshabits while in the country differ very much from those it has intown. In its original domicile it insists on being about the table atmeal-times. While in the country it does not care to be present; infact, it appears to avoid associations with the household. It seemsto me that this cat, after the manner of some men whose brains arediseased, now lives in two distinct states of consciousness, eachrelating to one of its places of abode. [Illustration: Hounds Running a Wild Boar (Showing the habit of attacking neck of prey. ) ] The differences as regards affection for localities which is shown bycats and dogs are perhaps to be accounted for by an original andessential variation in the habits of life in their wild ancestors. Judging by the kindred of the species which are known to us in theirwild state, we may fairly suppose that the dogs were of old accustomedto range over a wide field, having no fixed place of abode; the packranging, if the occasion served, for hundreds of miles in any direction. On the other hand, with the cats, it is characteristic of the speciesthat they have lairs to which they resort, and a definite hunting groundin which they seek their food. They are, in a word, animals of verydetermined routine. As there has been no effort by breeding to changethis feature, it has remained in all its old ingrained intensity. As a consequence of the affection which cats have for particular places, they often return to the wilderness when by chance the homes in whichthey have been reared are abandoned. Thus in New England, in thosesections of the district where many farmsteads have of late years beendeserted, the cats have remained about their ancient haunts and havebecome entirely wild. In this State they are bred in such numbers thattheir presence is now a serious menace to the birds and other weakercreatures of the country. The behavior of these feralized animalsdiffers somewhat from that of creatures which have never been tamed. They have not the same immediate fear of a man, but the least effort toapproach them leads to their hasty flight. While considering the inelastic quality which is exhibited by cats ascompared with the dog, the naturalist notes with interest the fact thatthe former creature belongs to a family which has never been accustomedto any social life beyond the limits of the family. Moreover, all thecats have the habit of hunting in a solitary way, each for itself, inthe achievement and in the result. It is otherwise with dogs. Theybelong to a group which hunts in packs. For ages they have been used toa communal life. Their minds have thus become accustomed to socialintercourse; they are used to having their excitements of the chase incomradeship, and generally they are accustomed to the rough-and-tumblefraternity which we behold in a pack of wolves. It was long ago remarkedthat the really social animals are those which afford the only goodmaterial for subjugation. The difference between the cat and dog seems, in a way, to warrant this statement. Although it is likely that many efforts have been made to domesticatethe other larger felines, no distinct success has attended theseexperiments. A large Asiatic cat known as the chetah is somewhat usedin hunting for sport, but the species has never been adopted in anydefinite way. In fact, with all the larger cats, including the lion, which is structurally a little apart from the other members ofthe group, the size and furious nature of the animal have made itimpossible to begin the process of selection which has been the meanswhereby the wilderness motive has been replaced by that of thehousehold in the case of all other domesticated beasts. THE HORSE Value of the Strength of the Horse to Man. --Origin of the Horse. --Peculiar Advantage of the Solid Hoof. --Domestication of the Horse. --How begun. --Use as a Pack Animal. --For War. --Peculiar Advantages of the Animal for Use of Men. --Mental Peculiarities. --Variability of Body. --Spontaneous Variations due to Climate. --Variations of Breeds. --Effect of the Invention of Horseshoes. --Donkeys and Mules compared with Horse. --Especial Value of these Animals. --Diminishing Value of Horses in Modern Civilization. --Continued Need of their Service in War. The largest economic problem which primitive people on their way upwardtowards civilization had unconsciously to face was that of obtainingsome kind of strength which could be added to the power of their ownweak limbs. For all his eminent capacities of body, man is not a stronganimal, nor is he so built that he can apply the measure of strengththat is in him to good advantage. There are scores if not hundredsof species with which he came in contact in his effort to dominatenature that are stronger, swifter, and better provided with naturalweapons. With the first step upward, as in almost all the succeedingsteps, the advance depended on securing more energy than that withwhich our kind was directly endowed. It is hardly too much to saythat the progress of mankind beyond the savage state would probablynever have been effected but for the bodily help which has beenrendered by a few domesticated animals. From the point of view of the student of domesticated animals the racesof men may well be divided into those which have and those which havenot the use of the horse. Although there are half a score of otheranimals which have done much for man, which have indeed stampedthemselves upon his history, no other creature has been so inseparablyassociated with the great triumphs of our kind, whether won on thebattle-field or in the arts of peace. So far as material comfort, oreven wealth, is concerned, we of the northern realms and present agecould, perhaps, better spare the horse from our present life thaneither sheep or horned cattle; but without this creature it is certainthat our civilization would never have developed in anything like itspresent form. Lacking the help which the horse gives, it is almostcertain that, even now, it could not be maintained. We know the ancient natural history of the horse more completely thanthat of any other of our domesticated animals. We can trace the stepsby which its singularly strong limbs and feet, on which rests its valueto man, were formed in the great laboratory of geologic time. The storyis so closely related to the interests of man that it will be wellbriefly to set it before the reader. In the first stages of theTertiary period, in the age when we begin to trace the evolution of thesuck-giving animals above the lowly grade in which the kangaroos andopossums belong, we find the ancestors of our mammalian series allcharacterized by rather weakly organized limbs fitted, as were those oftheir remoter kindred the marsupials, for tree climbing rather than formoving over the surface of the ground. The fact is, that all thecreatures of this great clan acquired their properties of body inarboreal life, and with such relatively small and light bodies as werefitted for tree climbing. For this use the feet need to beloose-jointed, and so the system of five toes, each terminating in asharp and strong nail or claw, became fixed in the inheritances. When, gaining strength and coming to possess a more important place in theworld, these ancient tree-dwellers were able to occupy the ground whichof old had been possessed by the great reptiles, the limbs that hadserved well for an arboreal life had to undergo many changes in orderto fit them for progression in the new realm. If we watch the progress of a bear over the surface of the ground, wereadily perceive how lumbering is its gait and how poor the speed whichit attains. Its slow and shambling movement is due to the fact that ithas the tree-climbing foot, and is not well fitted for motion such as isrequired in running. To attain anything like speed in this exercise itis necessary to support the body on the tips of the toes. Every man whohas gained any skill in this art knows full well how incompetent he isif he tries to run with rapidity in the flat-footed manner. The bearcannot essay this method of progression on the toe-tips because itsloose-jointed feet cannot be made to support its heavy body. In this wayarose the necessity of developing a peculiar kind of foot when that parthad to serve for rapid locomotion. The experiments to this end have beennumerous and varied. Thus in the elephants, which retain the originallynumerous toes, the bones of these members are planted in an uprightposition and tied together with such strong muscles and sinews, that thefoot parts have something like the solidity and strength of the upperportions of the legs. In the single-hoofed or horse-like forms, and inthe cloven-footed animals, other series of experiments have been triedwhich in the end have proved most successful, giving us animals with thespeediest movements of any animals except the creatures of the air. [Illustration: A Hunter] The success which has been attained in our ordinary large herbivora, andwhich has made them competent to evade the chase of the beasts of prey, has been accomplished by reducing the number of the toes, giving thestrength of the aborted parts to increase the power of those remaining. The result is the formation of two great groups, the double-hoofedforms, including the pigs, deer, cattle, sheep, and their kindred, andthe single-toed species, of which our horse is the foremost example. Inthe reduction of the number of toes, different plans were followed ineach of these groups. In the cloven-hoofed forms, a single toe firstdisappeared, leaving but four; then the two outer of these were aborted, leaving two nearly equal digits. In the series of the horse, where wecan trace the change more clearly, we find the earliest form five-toed, but the outer and inner digit shrunken so as to become of little use. This condition of the creature in the early Tertiaries gives us thebeginning of the equine series, and shows that far away as the creatureis now from ourselves, it originated from the main stem of mammalianlife, from which our own forms have sprung. In the next higher stage intime, and likewise in development, we find these lessened toes at theirvanishing point, and two of the remaining digits, lying on either sideof what corresponds to the middle finger in our own hands, beginning toshrink in length and volume, while the central toe becomes larger andstronger than before. Last in the series we come to our ordinary equineform, in which nothing is left but the single massive extremity, thoughthe remnants of two of the toes can be traced in the form of slenderbones known as splints, which are altogether enclosed within the skinwhich wraps the region about the fetlock joints. As if it were to show to us the history of this marvellous organicachievement, nature now and then, though seldom--perhaps not oftenerthan one in ten million instances--sends forth a horse with three hoofsto each leg. Two of these are small and lie on either side of thefunctioning extremity. Each of these hoofs is connected with asplint-bone which has in some way suddenly become reminded of itsancient use, and develops in a manner to imitate the creatures whichpassed from the earth millions of years ago. In most cases thesplint-bones have no function whatever to perform. They are indeedsuperfluous and injurious parts, and are likely from time to time to beworse than useless, becoming the seats of disease. In this beautifulinstance, perhaps the fairest of all those showing how the highlydeveloped forms of our time retain a memory of their ancestral life, wesee how the advance in the series of the horse has been effected againstthe resistance ancient organic habit opposes to all gains. We cantherefore the better understand how the building of the hoof representsthe labor of geologic ages during which the slow-made gains were won. In its present elaborate form, the hoof of a horse is the most perfectinstrument of support which has been devised in the animal kingdom touphold a large and swiftly moving animal in its passage over theground. The original toe-nail, and the neighboring soft parts connectedwith it, have been modified into a structure which in an extraordinarymanner combines solidity with elasticity, so that it may strike violentblows upon the hard surface of the earth without harm. The bones of thetoe to which it is affixed have enlarged with the progressive loss oftheir neighbors of the extremity, until they fairly continue thedimensions of the bony parts of the leg. Moreover, they have lengthenedout, so as to give the limb a great extension, and this, in turn, magnifies the stride which the creature can take in running. The resultis that the horse can carry a greater weight at a swifter speed thanany other animal approaching it in size. [Illustration: On Rotten Row, Hyde Park, London] The needs which led, in a slow accumulative way, to the invention ofthe admirable contrivance of the horse's foot, were doubtless foundedon the necessities of swift movement in fleeing from the greatpredaceous animals. Incidentally, however, as this development hasgone on, the peculiarities of the extremity have proved highlyadvantageous in defence, and the creatures have acquired certainpeculiar ways of using their feet effectively to this end. The solidcharacter of the hoof, its considerable weight, and the great powerof the muscles of the hams, which are the principal agents inpropelling the animal, make the hind feet capable of delivering avery powerful blow. The measure of its efficiency may be judged fromthe fact that a lion has been slain by a stroke from the foot of adonkey, and in their wild state a herd of horses with their headstogether, can beat off the attack of the most powerful beasts ofprey. In using the hind feet for assault or defence, horses haveadopted an effective method of kicking which is unknown among otheranimals. Resting on their fore-legs, the hinder feet are thrownbackward and upward, so that they may strike a blow six feet from theground. Many of our cloven-footed animals have learned to strikecutting blows with the sharp hoofs of their fore-limbs--our bullswill stamp a fallen enemy with great force; but the backward kick ofthe horse is a peculiar movement, and is distinctly related to thepeculiar structure of the animal's extremities. It is an interesting fact that the development of a long and slowlyelaborated series leading to the making of the horse appears to havetaken place mainly, if not altogether, in the region about theheadwaters of the Missouri River. In the olden days when this great workwas done, that part of our continent was a well-watered country, much ofits surface being occupied by great lakes which have long sincedisappeared. In the deposits accumulated in these bodies of fresh waterare found the bones of the olden species telling the history of theirseries. It is not yet certain that the final step of the accomplishmentwhich gave us our existing species was effected in this land. It seemsindeed most likely that the ancestral form of our domesticated horsesfound their way to the continents of the Old World, and there underwentthe last slight changes, before they were made captive by man. If thereever were perfect horses on this continent, they had passed away fromits area before the coming of man to the land. The history of ouraborigines would have been quite other than it has been, if they hadhad a chance to win the assistance of this noble helpmeet. Central Asia appears to have been the domicile of the horse when hefirst began his acquaintance with our kind. We do not know theoriginal form of the creature. The wild horses existing at thepresent day in that part of the world, and which plentifully occurin other regions whereunto they have been taken by man, appear tohave been set free from captivity. [Illustration: Horse of a Bulgarian Marauder] The first domestication of the horse appears to have been broughtabout, at an early time in the history of our race, in northern Asia. The time when this feat was accomplished antedates our records. Thecreature may first have come into possession of the Tartar tribes, but it quickly passed over Asia and Europe and shortly became themainstay of the Aryan and Semitic folk. None other of ourdomesticated forms has been disseminated with like rapidity, or atthe outset with as little change in its original features. From thefirst the horse seems to have been mainly used as a saddle and packanimal. It has never served in any considerable measure for food. Thefailure to make use of the flesh of this animal appears to be commonto most of the savage or barbaric people who keep horses, and has beentransmitted in a singularly definite way to all civilized folk. Theorigin of such a prejudice, despite the fact that the flesh of thehorse is of excellent quality, can only be explained through thesympathetic motives common to all men. Their association with thehorse, as with the dog, is so intimate as to make the use of theseanimals in the form of food more or less repugnant. In a small thoughunimportant way, mares have been used for milk, and there seems noreason to doubt that, if they had been carefully bred for this purpose, they might have been as serviceable as the cow. It may be that thefailure to use the milk of the horse is to be accounted for on thesame ground as the dislike to its flesh. The horse was probably at first most valued for its use in war. Thepeoples which possessed it certainly had a great advantage over theirless well provided neighbors. In fact the development of the militaryart, as distinguished from the mere fighting of savages, was made easyby the strength, endurance, fleetness, and measure of braverycharacterizing this creature. In the wide range of species which havebeen domesticated or might be won to companionship with man, there isnone other which so completely supplements the imperfect human body, making it fit for great deeds. If the horse had been much smaller orlarger than he is, he would have been far less serviceable to man. Itwas a most fortunate accident that the creature came to us with theproportions which insured a high measure of utility in various linesof activity. The elephant has been found too large for agriculturaluses, and too powerful to be controlled by the will and force of hismaster under conditions of excitement. [Illustration: Mare and Foal] Those peoples which early acquired the resources in the way ofstrength and fleetness which the horse put at their disposition, became inevitably the conquerors of the folk who were denied theseadvantages. If we consider the conditions which have led to thedomination of the world by the Aryan and Semitic people, and theraces which they have affiliated with them, we readily discern thefact that they have, to a great extent, won by horse-power ratherthan by their own physical strength. Thus equipped by their ableservants, they have pressed outward from their ancient realms andhave in a way overridden the tribes which were unmounted. So imposing is the effect of the horsed man on all peoples who arewithout previous knowledge of the united creatures, that it alwayscarries fear to their hearts. To such folk the combination appears asa single terrible being. The ease with which the Spaniards conqueredMexico and Peru can, to a great extent, be attributed to the awecarried into the ranks of the savage footmen by their mail-cladhorses. The Greeks, who were wont to represent the forces of natureand the accomplishments of man by skilfully constructed myths, haveleft a record showing their appreciation of the strength derived fromthe union of horse and man, in their fable of the Centaur, whichpossibly grew up in a time before their people had won the use of theanimal, and when they only knew the creature by chance encounterswith enemies who were mounted upon them. Although the naturalist ofto-day perceives the impossibility of there ever having been on thisearth a form uniting the trunk and fore-limbs of a quadruped to theupper part of a man's body, such scientific conceptions are a part ofour modern, recently acquired store of knowledge. To the Greeks ofthe myth-making age the creature, half man, half horse, added but onemore wonder to the vast store the world already contained. Thecurrency of this fable shows us very clearly how great was theimpression which the horse made upon primitive peoples. To perceive the value of the horse in those ancient contests whichopened the paths of civilization, we must note the fact that, untilthe invention of gunpowder, success in breaking the ranks of anenemy depended mainly on the charge. With a large body of vigoroushorsemen it was generally possible to overwhelm an enemy's line ofbattle, either by direct assault or by an attack on its flank orrear. If the reader is curious to see the value of horsemen inancient warfare, he should read the story of the campaigns ofHannibal against the Romans in Italy. The first successes of thatgreat commander--victories which came near changing the history ofthe western world--were almost altogether due to the strength lyingin his admirable Numidian cavalry. The Romans were already goodsoldiers, their footmen more trustworthy than those which theCarthagenian general could set against them; but with his horsemen, as at Cannę, he could wrap in the Roman line and reduce the mostvaliant legions to the confused herd which awaited the butcher. [Illustration: Cavalry Horse] Although the invention of firearms has somewhat changed theconditions under which cavalry may be used, making indeed the directcharge more costly to the assailant than the assailed, it has in nowise diminished, but rather increased, the value of horses inmilitary campaigns. In the line of battle horses have becomenecessary for the conveyance of field officers and messengers, andthe right arm of battle, the artillery, could not possibly be managedexcept by horse-power. The swift marches of modern armies, byhastening the issue of contests, have spared the world half the woesof its great campaigns, and are made possible by the ready movementof supply trains, which could not be effected except by the help ofthese creatures. The result is that a large part of the militarystrength of any state rests not only in the valor and training of itsfighting men, but in the supply of horses that its fields may afford. In this connection it is instructive to compare the militarystrength of a country like China, where the horse is not a commonelement in the life of the people, with that of any of the westernfolk who may hereafter have to wrestle with that populous empire. Some writers, in their efforts to forecast the large politics of thefuture, have imagined that when the hardy and obedient Chinaman cameto receive the European training in the military art, the armies ofthat country might prove from their numbers a menace to our owncivilization. Such an issue seems in a high degree improbable, forthe reason that the eastern realm could not provide the horses whichwould be necessary for the use of invading armies; nor is it at alllikely that the rigid framework of their society will ever be soaltered as to provide an abundance of these animals. [Illustration: Plough Horses, France] Although in the first instance the horse served mainly, if notaltogether, as an ally of man in his contests with his neighbors, itsmost substantial use has been in the peaceful arts. As pack animal anddrawer of the plough, the ox appears in general to have come into usebefore its swifter companion. The displacement of horned cattle hasbeen due to the fact that their structure and habits make them muchless fit for arduous and long-continued labor than the horse has beenfound to be. The cloven foot, because of its division, is weak. Itcannot sustain a heavy burden. Even with the unincumbered weight ofthe body of the animal, the feet are apt to become sore in marcheswhich the heavily mounted horse endures unharmed. Centuries ofexperience have shown that while the ox is an excellent animal fordrawing a plough in a stubborn soil, and is well adapted to pullingcarriages where the burden is heavy and the speed is not a matter ofimportance and the distance not great, the creature is too slow forthe greater part of the work which the farmer needs to do. The pacewhich they can be made to take in walking is not more than half asgreat as that of a quick-footed horse moving in the same gait; and theox is practically incapable, because of its weak feet, of keeping up atrot on any ordinary road. But for the fact that an aged ox may beused for beef, they would doubtless long since have ceased to serve usas draught animals. As it is, with the growing money value of thelaborer's time, this slow-moving creature is steadily and ratherrapidly disappearing from our farms. This change, indeed, is one ofthe most indicative of all those now occurring in our agriculture. Itis an excellent example of the operations which the increase in theworkman's pay is bringing into our civilization. The natural advantages of the horse for the use of man consisted inits size, strength, and endurance to burden; form of the body, whichenabled a skilful rider to maintain his position astride the trunk; andthe peculiar shape of the mouth and disposition of the teeth which madeit possible to use the bit. With these direct physical advantages therewere others of a physiological and psychic sort, of equal value. Thecreature breeds as well under domestication as in the wilderness; theyoung are fit for some service in the third year of their life, andare, at least in the less elaborated breeds, in a mature condition whenthey are five years old. Experience shows that the animal can subsiston a great variety of diet, being in this regard surpassed only by itshumbler kinsman the donkey, and by the goats. There are few fields solean that they will not maintain serviceable horses. They do well alikein mountain pastures and amid the herbage of the moistest plainland. The mental peculiarities of the horse are much less characteristic thanits physical. It is indeed the common opinion, among those who do notknow the animal well, that it is endowed with much sagacity, but noexperienced and careful observer is likely to maintain this opinion. All such students find the intelligence of the horse to be verylimited. It requires but little observation to show that the creatureobserves quickly, and in some way classifies the objects with which itcomes in contact. The fear aroused in it by unknown things makes thisfeature of attention to the surrounding world very evident. Almost allthese animals retain a tolerably distinct memory of the roads whichthey have traversed, even if they have passed over them but a fewtimes. The studies which I have made on this point show me that theaverage horse will be able to return on a road which it has traverseda few hours before, with less risk of blundering than an ordinarydriver. Some well-endowed animals can remember as many as a dozenturnings in a path over which they have journeyed three or four times. It seems almost certain that their guidance in these movements is notat all effected by the sense of smell, but is due to a distinct memoryof the detailed features of the country. [Illustration: Belgian Fisherman's Horse] Good as is the horse's memory, it is difficult to organize its actionson that basis. Only in rare cases and with much labor can he be taughtto execute movements that are at all complicated. Fire-engine horsesmay be trained of their own will to step into the position where theyare to be attached to the carriage. Some artillery horses will, as Ihave noticed, associate the sound of the bugle with the resultingmovements of the guns and take the appropriate positions, where theymay be out of danger in the rapid swinging of the teams andcarriages. It is partly because of this training received bydisciplined artillery horses, that it seems to many experiencedofficers not worth while to have militia companies in this arm, whohave to manoeuvre with animals untrained for the service. Althoughsome part of this mental defect in the horse, causing its actions tobe widely contrasted with those of the dog, may be due to a lack ofdeliberate training and to breeding with reference to intellectualaccomplishment, we see by comparing the creature with the elephant, which practically has never been bred in captivity, that the equinemind is, from the point of view of rationality, very feeble. The emotional side of the horse's nature seems little more developedthan its rational. Although they have a certain affection for the handwhich feeds them, and in a mild way are disposed to form friendshipswith other animals, they are not really affectionate, and never, sofar as I have been able to find, show any distinct signs of grief atseparation from their masters or of pleasure when they return to them. Although there are many stories appearing to indicate a certainfaithfulness in horses which have remained beside their fallen andwounded riders, the facts do not justify us in supposing that suchactions are due to the affection a dog clearly feels. [Illustration: Horses for Towing on the Beach in Holland] We have been singularly led astray by a chance use of the epithet"horse, " which has come to be applied to many organic forms andfunctions where strength is indicated. Thus, in the case of plants wespeak of "horse-radish" or "horse-mint, " denoting thereby spices whichhave strong qualities. Horse-chestnut is another instance of theapplication of the term to plants. It chanced that "horse-sense" cameto be used to indicate a sound understanding, and in an obscure way, but in a manner common with words, this has led to a vague implicationof mental capacity in the animals whence the term is derived. The factis that our horses, as far as their mental powers are concerned, appear to be the least improvable of our great domesticated animals. [Illustration: A Hurdle Jumper] Little elastic as the horse appears to be on the psychic side of itsnature, in its physical aspects it is one of the most plastic of all theforms subjected to the breeder's art. It requires no more than a glanceat the streets of our large cities to see how great is the range insize, form, and carriage of these animals which may be found in any ofour great centres of civilization. We readily perceive that thesevariations have a distinct relation to the several divisions of humanactivity in which this creature has a share. The massive cart-horse, weighing it may be as much as eighteen hundred or two thousand pounds, heavy limbed, big headed, unwilling to move at a pace faster than a slowtrot, yet not without the measure of beauty seemingly inseparable fromthe species, contrasts very markedly with the alert saddle animal bredfor speed and grace, and for the easy movement which makes itcomfortable to the equestrian. Between these extremes we may note minordifferences which, though they may not strike those persons who takeonly a commonplace view of the creatures, are most marked to theinitiated. The trotter, the coach horse, the strong but nimble animalswhich are used in fire-engines and other heavy carriages which have tobe swiftly moved, mark the results of breeding designed to insureparticular qualities, and show how readily the physical features of theanimal can be made to fit to our desires. Although from an early day a certain amount of care has been given tobreeding horses for saddle purposes, the careful and continuous choicewhich has led to the modern variations is a matter of only a fewcenturies of endeavor. So far as we can judge from the classicmonuments, the olden varieties were mere varieties of the pony--thesmall, compact, agile creature which had not departed far from theparent wild form. It seems to me doubtful whether any of the horsespossessed by the Greeks or Romans attained a weight much exceeding athousand pounds, or had the peculiarities of our modern breeds. Thefirst considerable departure from the original type appears to havebeen brought about when it became necessary to provide a creaturewhich could serve as a mount for the heavy armored knights of theMiddle Ages, where man and horse were weighted with from one to twohundred pounds of metal. To serve this need it was necessary to have asaddle animal of unusual strength, weighing about three-quarters of aton, easily controllable and at once fairly speedy and nimble. To meetthis necessity the Norman horse was gradually evolved, the formnaturally taking shape in that part of Europe where the iron-cladwarrior was most perfectly developed. In the tapestries and otherillustrative work of that day, when the knight won tournaments andbattle-fields, gaining victory by the weight and speed which hebrought to bear upon his enemies, we can see this splendid animal, inphysical form, at least, the finest product of man's care and skill inthe development of the lower species. With the advance in the use of firearms the value of the Norman horsein the art of war rapidly diminished. This breed, however, has, withslight modifications, survived, and is extensively used for draughtpurposes where strength at the sacrifice of speed is demanded. It is acurious fact that the creatures which now draw the beer wagons ofLondon often afford the nearest living successors in form to thehorses which bore the medięval knights. It is an ignoble change, butwe must be grateful for any accident which has preserved to us, thoughin a somewhat degraded form, this noblest product of the breeder'sart, which, even as much as the valor of our ancestors, won successfor our Teutonic folk in their great struggle with Islam. A tinctureof this Norman blood, perhaps the firmest fixed in the species of anyvariety, pervades many other strains most valuable in our arts. Thebest of our artillery horses, particularly those set next the wheels, are generally in part Norman. In the well-known American Morgan, theswiftest and strongest of our harnessed forms, the observant eyedetects indications of this masterful blood. The Norman strains of horses retain certain interesting indications oftheir ancient lineage and occupation. As appears to be common with oldbreeds, the stock is readily maintained. It breeds true to itsancestry, with little tendency to those aberrations so common in thenewly instituted varieties. When crossed with other strains, theeffect of the intermixture of this strong blood is distinctlytraceable for many generations. In their mental habits these creaturesstill appear to show something of the effects of their old use in war;it is a valiant race, less given to insane fear than other strains, and, even under excitement, more controllable than the most of theirkindred. So far as I have been able to learn, they seem singularlyfree from those wild panics which are so common among our ordinaryhorses. It does not seem to me fanciful to suppose that thesequalities were bred in the stock during the centuries of experiencewith the confusion of battle-fields and tournaments. [Illustration: Exercising the Thoroughbreds] The horse, in common with the other domesticated animals varyingreadily in the hands of the breeder, undergoes a certain spontaneouschange which in a way corresponds to the physiography of the region inwhich it is bred. At first sight it may seem as if these alterationsare due to the admixture of previously existing varieties, or to theinstitution of peculiarities by some process of selection. I am, however, well convinced that these variations are in good part due to adirect influence from the environment. Thus in our high northern landsthere is a distinct and spontaneous reduction in size of the creatures, which attains its farthest point in the Shetland pony. Again, as we gotoward the tropics, a like though less conspicuous decrease in bulk isobservable. The largest animals of the species develop in the middlelatitudes, the realm where the form appears to have acquired itscharacters. The speed with which these local variations are made isoften great. Thus the horses of Kentucky have, in about a century, acquired a certain stamp of the soil which makes it possible, in mostcases, for the observer to identify an individual as from that State, though he may find it in a field a thousand miles away. The definingindications are not limited altogether to bodily form, but are shown inwhat might seem trifling features of carriage and behavior. Thedifference between the horses of Great Britain and those of the UnitedStates seems to me, from repeated observations, to be quite as great asthat separating the men of the two realms. I believe that if a lot of athousand, taken in equal parts from either land, were put together, aperson well accustomed to taking account of these animals couldseparate them into two herds, with less than ten per cent. Of error. Itis doubtful if a more perfect selection could be made if the sameexperiment were tried on an equal number of men, provided the indicesto be derived from peculiarities of speech or dress could be excluded. [Illustration: An Arabian Horse] By some the Arabian horse is thought to be the most remarkablespecialization of the kind which has been attained. In his nativecountry and in his perfection, the Arab breed has been seen by butfew persons who have been specially trained in noting thepeculiarities of the animal. So far as I have been able to judge bypictures and a few specimens, said to be thoroughbreds of theirstock, which I have had a chance to see, the Arabian form of thehorse appears to have been led less far away from the primitivestock than many of our European and American varieties. [Illustration: Arabian Sports] The very great, if not the preėminent, success of the horse in Arabiais the more remarkable from the fact that it has been attained underconditions which, from an _a priori_ point of view, must be deemedmost unfavorable. This variety has been bred in a land of scantherbage and deficient water-supply, where the creature has had fromtime to time, indeed we may say generally, to endure something of thedearth of food which stunts the Indian ponies and the other horses ofthe Cordilleran district. The ancestors of the horse appear to haveattained their development in well-watered and fertile regions. Allthe varieties bred within the limits of civilization do best on richpasturages such as Arabia does not afford. The success of the horse inthat land shows how devoted must have been the care which has beengiven to its nurture. Fitting, as the Arabian horse does, exactly tothe needs of nomadic people engaged in almost constant warfare, ithas naturally been a far more important helper to the wild folk ofthe desert lands about the eastern Mediterranean and the Red Sea thanto any other race. In those lands horses fell into the keeping of avery able folk. The contrast between the care devoted to the animalsby them, and that which our Indians give to their ponies, is a fairmeasure of the difference in the ability of these very diverse races. As a whole, the horse demands for his best nurture and keeping anamount of care required by no other animal which has been won to theuses of man, unless perhaps it be the silkworm. Kept in its beststate, the horse has to be sedulously groomed. To be maintained inits very best condition some hours of human labor must each day begiven to keeping his skin in order. The effect arising from afriction on the horse's hide is not confined to the beauty that comesfrom cleanliness, but in a curious way reacts upon the generalnervous tone of the animal. All those who are familiar with horseswill, I think, agree with me that much grooming distinctly increasesthe endurance and elasticity of their bodies. The influence of thegrooming process appears to be somewhat like that obtained by massageand friction of the skin in the training of an athlete. More thanonce I have had occasion to observe the effect of this process onsome ancient horse of good blood, which for years had been allowed inits old age to go uncared for as an idle tenant of the pastures. Twoor three days of assiduous grooming will bring back the strength andsuppleness to the aged limbs, and restore something of the oldenspirit. The effect obtained from this care is the more remarkable forthe reason that nothing similar to it was experienced by the wildancestors of these creatures. It is as artificial as bathing in thecase of man. The influence of the treatment shows how very unnaturalis the state of our civilized horses. The task of providing horses with food is more considerable than inthe case of any of our other domesticated creatures. By nature theanimal is a frequent feeder, and does not well endure long fasts. Itsstomach is rather small for the size of the body, and the digestiveprocess appears to be more than usually rapid. A mounted animal, whentaxed to its utmost, should be fed four or five times a day, and withless than three good meals is apt to break down. No such care in thematter of provender is necessary in the case of the other members ofman's animal family. The contrast between the physiologicalconditions of the camel and those of the horse are fully recognizedby the Arabs, in their almost complete neglect of the individuals ofthe one species and their exceeding care of the other. [Illustration: English Polo Ponies] Perhaps the greatest element of care which man has had to devote tothe horse is found in the matter of shoeing. In the state of naturethe admirably constructed hoof sufficiently provided the animalagainst the excessive wearing of its horny extremity. Nature, however, rarely provides for more strength and endurance than thecreature in its wild state demands; and so it comes about that whenhorses have to bear burdens or draw carriages, particularly onroadways, their unprotected feet will not withstand the strain whichis put upon them, the rate of growth of the structure composing thehoof not being sufficiently rapid to make good the wearing whichthese unnatural conditions impose. For thousands of years, in theroadless stages of man's development, the difficulties arising fromthe wearing of the hoof were not serious, for the creatures trodeither on turf-covered plains or on the soft ways of the desert. When the advance of culture made roads necessary, when carriageswere invented and something like our modern conditions wereinstituted, it became imperatively necessary to provide additionalprotection for the feet. We find the Greeks, in the classic time, wrestling with this problem. Xenophon, in his treatise on the careof horses, advises that they be reared on stony ground, he havingobserved that, in a natural way, the hoof becomes somewhat adaptedto the necessities of its conditions. The Romans found thedifficulty from the tender foot of the horse yet more serious ontheir paved roads; but both these classic people showed, in theirways of dealing with the difficulty, that lack of inventive skillwhich so curiously separates the olden from the modern men. Theydevised soles of leather and bags as coverings for the horse's feet, but none of the contrivances could have been very serviceable. Allsuch coverings must have been quickly worn out in active use. So far as we can determine, it was not until about the fourth centuryof our era that the iron horseshoe was invented. This valuablecontrivance appears to have originated in Greek or Roman lands, probably in the former realm, for it first bore the name of "selene, "from its likeness to the crescent shape of the new moon. Althoughsimple, the horseshoe was a most important invention, for itcompletely reconciled the animal to the conditions of our highercivilization by removing the one hinderance to its general use in thework of war and commerce. It is probable that with this inventionbegan the great task of differentiating the several breeds ofEuropean horses for their use in various employments, as draughtanimals for packing purposes, as light saddle horses, and thebearing of armored men. Neither the draught nor the war horses ofEurope could well have been specialized until their heavy bodies wereseparated from the ground by these metallic coverings of the hoof. [Illustration: Syrian Horse] Much has depended on the specialization of the horse into differentbreeds, made possible by the iron shoe. By reconciling the creature touses--agriculture, which depends on draught animals, and the commerceof importance, which can only be effected by means of wagons--therapid economic development of our civilization was made possible. Bydeveloping a horse capable of bearing an armored man, Europe wasbrought into a condition in which organized armies took the place ofmere forays, and so the development of centralized states waspromoted. In the warfare between the Mohammedans and the Christianstates of Europe, in the campaigns with the Turks and the Saracens, it is easy to see that the powerful breeds of horses reared in westernand northern Europe were a mighty element in determining the issue ofthe contest. The battles of these momentous campaigns represented, notonly a struggle between the Christian Aryans and the Semitic followersof Mahomet, but, in quite as great a degree, the war was waged betweenthe light and agile steeds of the Orient and the massive and powerfulanimals that bore the mail-clad warriors of the West. On the field ofTours, when the fate of Christian Europe for hours hung in thebalance, we may well believe that the strong and enduring horses ofthe northern cavalry did much to give victory to our race. Along with our general account of the place of the horse incivilization, it is fit to give something to the story of his near, though inferior, kinsmen, the ass and the mule, both of which haveplayed a subordinate, though important, part in the same field ofendeavor in which the nobler species has done so much for man. Theoriginal progenitors of our donkeys differed from the ancestral formof the horse by variations of good specific value. So far as we candetermine from visible features, these forms were more distinctlyparted than the dog and the wolf, or either of these animals from thejackal. Nevertheless, these equine forms are clearly closely akin, forthey may be bred together. Although the original stock of the ass maypossibly have been lost, it seems most likely that the wild formswhich exist in Asia have not wandered off from captivity, but are theremnants of the original wilderness form. It appears likely that the two domesticated equine species have beenunder the care of man for about the same length of time; but thedifference in their condition, and in the place which they hold incivilization, is very great. As we have seen, the horse has been madeto vary in a singular measure, its form and other qualities changing tomeet the need or fancy of its master. Its humbler kinsman has remainedalmost unchanged. Except small differences in size, the donkeys indifferent parts of the world are singularly alike. In part this lack ofchange may be explained by the relative neglect with which this specieshas been treated. From the point of view of the breeder it has perhapsbeen the least cared for of any of our completely domesticated animals. In some parts of the world, as for instance in Spain, where along-continued effort has been made to develop the animal forinterbreeding with the horse, the result shows that the form isrelatively inelastic. It is doubtful if any conceivable amount of carewould develop such variations as the horse now exhibits. The principal hinderances to the general acceptation of the donkey as ahelp-meet to man are found in its small size and slow motion. Thesequalities make the creature unserviceable in active war or inagriculture, and they seem to be so fixed in the blood that they arenot to any extent corrigible. So long as pack animals were in generaluse, and in those parts of the world where the conditions of culturecause this method of transportation to be retained, the qualities ofthe donkey have proved and are still found of value. The animal cancarry a relatively heavy burden, being in such tasks, for its weight, more efficient than the horse. It is less liable to stampedes. Itlearns a round of duty much more effectively than that creature, andcan subsist by browsing on coarse herbage, where a horse would be sofar weakened as to become useless. Thus, in developing the mines in theunimproved wilderness of the Cordilleras, where ores of the preciousmetals have to be carried for considerable distances, trains of"burros" are often employed. The animals quickly learn the nature oftheir task, and will do their work with but little guidance from man. In general we may say that the donkeys belong to a vanishing state ofhuman culture, to the time before carriage-ways existed. Now thatcivilization goes on wheels, they seem likely to have anever-decreasing value. A century ago they were almost everywhere incommon use. At the present time there are probably millions of peoplein the United States to whom the animal is known only by description. In a word, the creature marks a stage in the development of ourindustries which is passing away as rapidly as that in which thespinning-wheel and the hand-loom played a part. As the use of the ass in the economic arts began to decline, the muleor hybrid progeny of this creature and the horse has progressivelyincreased. Although the value of this mongrel has been known, particularly in southern Europe, from very early days, its mostextensive employment has been found in the old slave-holding States ofthe Federal union. The custom of using mules has been almost unknown inEngland, and has never been generally adopted in the northern part ofthe United States. It appears to have been introduced into southernregions by the Spaniards and the French, and there to have spread, because of the peculiar fitness of the creature to the climate and theemployment it had to endure in that part of America. The mule has thepeculiar advantage that it is on the average as large as the horse, isnearly as quick-footed when walking, and has at the same time aconsiderable share of the patient endurance to hard labor and scantfare which characterizes the donkeys. It matures somewhat more speedilythan its nobler kinsman, being ready to meet severe strains perhaps ayear earlier. Unless unconscionably abused, its period of fitness forhard work endures about one-third longer, often lasting for thirtyyears. It is singularly exempt from disease, its sturdy framewithstanding rude usage until the old age time. [Illustration: In the Circus] The mule is especially interesting to the naturalist for the reasonthat it affords the only certain case in which a hybrid has proveddecidedly serviceable to man. It is not unlikely that a similar mixtureof the blood of two species occurs in our ordinary cats, and it mayexist in the case of the dog and in some of the domestic birds; but sofar as we know, there has been no other useful result from thehybridizing, if it has occurred. Moreover, the mule is unique for thefact that the animal is distinctly stronger for its weight, and moreenduring than either species which his blood combines. In fact, thereis no product of man's industry in relation to domesticated animalswhich is more interesting than this singular creature. At present, itsuse appears to be going out of vogue; the evidence goes to show thatthe hybrid has no place in the affections of mankind, and that it isonly likely to be kept in its use in tropical countries, andparticularly in regions where the beasts have to be under the care ofslaves or other negligent folk. It is a singular fact in connectionwith this hybrid, that it is nearly absolutely sterile, there beingonly two or three cases on record in which they have proved fecund. Itseems, however, possible that if these rare instances of continuedbreeding were to be duly used, an intermediate species might bepermanently established. This is, indeed, one of the most importantlines for experiment which could be undertaken by an institutiondevoted to the study of problems relating to domestication. It is commonly thought that a mule is a stupider creature than thehorse; but I have never found a person, who was well acquainted withboth animals, who hesitated to place the mongrel in the intellectualgrade above the pure-blood animal. There is, it is true, a decideddifference in the mental qualities of the two creatures. The mule isrelatively undemonstrative, its emotions being sufficiently expressedby an occasional bray--a mode of utterance which he has inherited fromthe humbler side of his house in a singularly unchanged way. Even inthe best humor it appears sullen, and lacks those playful capers whichgive such expression to the well-bred horse, particularly in itsyouthful state. It is evident, however, that it discriminates men andthings more clearly than does the horse. In going over difficult groundit studies its surface, and picks its way so as to secure a footing inan almost infallible manner. Even when loaded with a pack, it willconsider the incumbrance and not so often try to pass where the burdenwill become entangled with fixed objects. Mules soon learn the difference between those who have the care of themand strangers. It is a well-known fact that trouble awaits the wightwho unwarily ventures to take from the stall a mule which has not theadvantage of his acquaintance. On this account they are rarely stolen. Even in the daytime they are often dangerous for strangers to approach, and the most of the ill-usage which men receive from their heels ariseswhere unwitting people venture to treat them as they would horses. Mules are much less liable to panic-fear than the most of ourdomesticated animals, yet, when kept in the herded way, theyoccasionally become stampeded. Many a soldier of our Civil War, wheremules played a large part in the campaigns, doubtless remembers the madoutbreaks of these creatures from their corrals, when they wentcharging through the army with a fury which, if directed against anenemy, would have been almost as effective as a cavalry charge. It is interesting to note that mules have a greater disposition toadopt a leader in their movements than we note in either of the specieswhence they come. In the old days when mules were plentifully bred inKentucky, and taken thence for sale to the plantation States, they wentforth in droves, commonly under the leadership of a bell horse, or, bypreference, a mare, which it was quite the custom to choose of a whitecolor. In the course of a few hours the creatures would learn to knowtheir guide, and to follow the leader with so little trouble that twomen could conduct a throng of several hundred. Nevertheless, if theforemost mule of the procession turned aside, all the others wouldblindly follow him in the manner of a flock of sheep. I recall an amusing instance of this "follow-my-leader" motive whichoccurred many years ago in a way somewhat personal to myself, insouthern Kentucky. Engaged in survey work, I was passing along a quietroad when in the distance I heard a thunder of hoofs, and in a momentsaw a great drove of mules, the appointed leader of which, a man on awhite horse, had fallen to the rear of the column. The creatures, thinking that it was their duty to overtake the missing master, weregoing on the full run. Heeding the shouts of the troubled herder, Iturned my wagon across the road, which, being at that point very narrow, was effectually barricaded by the vehicle. Although the rush was so wildthat the brutes nearly overset my "outfit, " they were brought to a fullstop. Unhappily, on one side of the road and one hundred feet or so fromit, there was a comfortably built southern house, with a broad galleryextending along the front; while in the door of the mansion were somewomen who had been attracted by the tumult. No sooner had the mob ofmules been brought to a state of surging quiet, than one of thecreatures jumped the picket fence, and started for the open house-door, thinking, perhaps, that he would find some peace of life in whatprobably seemed to him his accustomed barn. In much less time than ittakes to tell it, a hundred or more mules were on the gallery, the floorof which gave way beneath their weight; they quickly broke down thecolumns which supported the roof, so that the whole structure at oncebecame a heap of wood and mules. The unhappy proprietor of the drove, inhis consternation, forgot even to swear--an art which I have never knownon any other occasion to pass from a mule-driver; and, sitting on hiswhite horse, he lifted his hands like an oriental in prayer, and said tome meekly, "Did you ever in all your life?" I assured him that I hadnever, and went my way, leaving him to settle an interesting case ofdamages with the owner of the mansion. In considering the general influence of the horse and its kindred formson human culture, we clearly perceive that we are now attaining a timewhen the machinery of civilization is to depend in a much less degreethan of old on the help which these creatures give to man. Even fiftyyears ago the horse was far more necessary to the work of our kind thanit is at present. Going back a hundred years, we perceive that thepopulation of the civilized world could not possibly have beenmaintained, if by some disease all the horses had been swept away. Sucha calamity in the year 1800 would have led to the depopulation of almostall the cities of the interior country, famine would have ravaged ourStates, and the whole economic system of society would have had to bereconstructed. Now the greater part of the work which of old had to bedone by horses, can, at a slight increase of cost, be effected bymechanical engines. Ploughing, except on steep hillsides and in verystony ground, can be cheaply and effectively done by steam. The sameagent can propel the harvesters and work the threshing machines. Evenfarmers who till fields of no great extent find it desirable to do muchof their work by steam-engines, for the reason that fuel is less costlythan horse feed. An interesting instance to show how far mechanicalinventions have taken the place of horsed wagons in the work ofcivilized communities was afforded by the horse distemper which sweptover the country in 1872. During the week or more in which this epidemicwas at the worst, the State of Massachusetts was practically unhorsed, yet the greater part of the necessary business, that required to bringprovisions to the town, was effected by means of the railways. The sameincident shows, however, in another way, how absolutely necessary thisanimal is, in certain parts of our work. For the great Boston fire, which occurred at that time, was doubtless due to the fact that, owingto the sickness of the horses, an effort was made to drag the engines byhand-power, with the result that they came upon the ground so slowly asto give the fire a chance to become an uncontrollable conflagration. In the present state of our arts there is one great occupation which wecannot conceive to be carried on without the services of horses. This iswar. It is hardly too much to say that all our highly elaboratedmilitary system has depended for its development, as it does for itsmaintenance, on the transportation value of horses. Much has been saidof late as to the use of bicycles as adjuncts to armies, and in acertain limited way they will doubtless prove serviceable in futurecampaigns; but no one who has had any experience of military duty, withits work across tilled fields and through forests, can imagine a man ona wheel rendering any very effective service except under peculiarconditions. Moreover, no ordnance corps can do its appointed work in therear of a line of battle without sending its wagons across country andover ground which no unhorsed vehicle could traverse. The mark of the old utility of the animal in varied employment isretained in our use of the term horse-power in measuring the energy ofengines. That gauge of strength of old determined what man could do inthe severest taxes upon the forces at his command. In attaining thepoint where, owing to the possession of horses, he could use thisstandard, he won a great way beyond the station of his ancestors, whohad but the strength of men at their command. Modern invention, bygiving us heat-engines, has made the way for an advance. In anothercentury, or even in another generation, the horse may, save for the usesof war, be confined to the position of a luxury and an ornament. THE FLOCKS AND HERDS: BEASTS FORBURDEN, FOOD, AND RAIMENT Effect of this Group of Animals on Man. --First Subjugations. --Basis of Domesticability. --Horned Cattle. --Wool-bearing Animals. --Sheep and Goats. --Camels: their Limitation. --Elephants: Ancient History; Distribution; Intelligence; Use in the Arts; Need of True Domestication. --Pigs: their Peculiar Economic Value; Modern Varieties; Mental Qualities. --Relation of the Development of Domesticable Animals to the Time of Man's Appearance on the Earth. It is not too much to say that the opportunity to go forward on thepaths of culture, at least the chance to advance any considerabledistance beyond the estate of primitive men, depends in a considerablemeasure upon what the wilderness may offer in the way of domesticablebeasts of burden. Where such exist we find that the folk who dwell withthem in any land are almost certain to have made great advances. Wherethe surrounding nature, however rich, denies this boon, we find thatmen, however great their natural abilities may appear to be, exhibit aretarded development. Thus in North America, where there was nodomesticable beast of burden, the Indians, though an able folk, remainsavages. So, too, in central and southern Africa, where the mammalianlife, though rich, affords no large forms which tolerate captivity, thepeople have failed to attain any considerable culture. On the otherhand, in the great continent of the Old World, where the horse, the ass, the buffalo, the camel, and the elephant existed in the primitive wilds, men rose swiftly toward the civilized station. [Illustration: Domesticated Buffaloes in Egypt] The immediate effect arising from the possession of beasts of burden isgreatly to enlarge the scope and educative value of human labor. Aprimitive agriculture, sufficient to provide for the needs of a people, can be carried on by man's labor alone, though the resulting food-supplyhas generally to be supplemented by the chase. Rarely, if ever, are theproducts of the soil thus won sufficient in quantity to be made thebasis of any commerce. Such conveyance as is necessary among the peoplewho are served by their own hands alone, has to be accomplished by boattransportation or by the backs of men. The immediate effect of usingbeasts for burden is the introduction of some kind of plough, whichspares the labor of men in delving the ground, and the use of packanimals, which, employed in the manner of caravans, greatly promotes theextension of trade. A great range of secondary influences is found inthe development of the arts of war, by which people who have becomeprovided with pack or saddle animals are able to prevail over theirsavage neighbors, and thus to extend the realm of a nascentcivilization. Yet another influence, arising from the domestication oflarge beasts, arises from the fact that these creatures are importantstorehouses of food; their flesh spares men the labor of the chase, andso promotes those regularities of employment which lead men intocivilized ways of life. In fact, by making these creatures captive, menunintentionally brought themselves out of their ancient savagery. Theywere led into systematic and forethoughtful courses, and thus found atraining which they could in no other way have secured. [Illustration: Cattle of India] The first and simplest use made of the animals from which man derivesstrength appears to have been brought about by the subjugation of wildcattle--the bulls and buffaloes. Several wild varieties of the bovinetribe were originally widely disseminated in Europe and Asia, and theseforms must have been frequent objects of chase by the ancient hunters. Although in their adult state these animals were doubtless originallyintractable, the young were mild-mannered, and, as we can readilyconceive, must often have been led captive to the abodes of theprimitive people. As is common with all gregarious animals which havelong acknowledged the authority of their natural herdsmen, the dominantmales of their tribe, these creatures lent themselves to domestication. Even the first generation of the captives reared by hand probably showeda disposition to remain with their masters; and in a few generationsthis native impulse might well have been so far developed that thedomestic herd was established, affording perhaps at first only flesh andhides, and leading the people who made them captives to a nomadiclife--that constant search for fresh fields and pastures new whichcharacterizes people who are supported by their flocks and herds. It is a curious fact that the kindred of the buffaloes and bisonsdiffer exceedingly in the measure of their domesticability. Thus, theordinary buffalo of Asia, though a dull brute, is very subjugable, even in the literal sense, for he makes a tolerable beast for theplough and bears the yoke with due patience. His African kinsman, onthe other hand, is perhaps the most unconquerable of all the largewild animals. The late Sir Samuel Baker, in answer to my question asto what wild form was the most to be feared in combat, unhesitatinglyanswered, "The African buffalo, the bulls of which charge home uponany aggressor with an immediate and determined fury, which oftenenables them to kill the hunter after they have been shot through thebrain. " Our American bison, though a much milder-spirited beast, seemsalso to be essentially undomesticable for the reason that he cannot betaught to subordinate his desires to the will of man. He can readilybe brought to the point where he will tolerate captivity; but if, whenengaged in ploughing, it occurs to him that he needs water, he willstraightway go in search of it, not in a vicious, but in a perfectlyobdurate manner. This quality of mind appears to be accountable forthe failure of the many experiments which have been made todomesticate this interesting American form. The limitations of the domesticating work, the fact that as betweentwo kindred species the one has been chosen by man and the other left, indicate the truth--which is generally of much importance--that theintellectual qualities of animals commonly differ more than theirframes. This is a part of the larger fact that with the advance inorganization the individuality, as regards the whole spiritual fieldin persons and species alike, becomes greater. The culmination of thetendency is seen in man, where, with bodies which do not vary much, wehave an almost infinite range in individual qualities. This is perhaps a good place in which to make answer to the suggestionthat the domesticability of the animal species is in inverseproportion to their native courage and independence of mind. Thereader will see how fallacious is this common notion if he willconsider the quality of the supremely domesticated creature, the dog. There is probably no beast which has a larger share of natural courageand of independent motive. When not under the control of theirmasters, they have perhaps as free a contact with nature as anycreature in the world; the same thing may be said of the elephant, which, next to the dog, lends himself most obediently to therequirements of the master. Owing to the power of his huge body and tothe ease with which he wins his food, he is in his native wilds theleast dependent of land animals. Except from the assaults of man, hehas nothing to fear; yet when enslaved he at once surrenders himselfto his captors. In general, it may be said that the true gauge ofdomesticability is the sympathetic motive, that strange outgoingspirit which leads the mind to recognize the life about it and toaccept that life as a part of its own. In other words, thedomesticability of man is due to his willingness to enter into socialrelations and rests on the same foundation that supports hisintercourse with the lower animals he has won to his use. [Illustration: Indian Bullock and Water-Carrier] It is probable that the first use which was made of beasts of burden, in ways in which their strength became useful to man, was in packingthe tents and other valuables of their masters as they moved fromplace to place. Even to this day in certain parts of the world bullsand oxen serve for such purposes. In fact the nomadic life, a fashionof society which is enforced wherever people subsist from theircattle alone, leads inevitably to such use of the beasts. In thesouthern Appalachian district of this country there remain traces ofthis service rendered by bulls and oxen. These creatures, providedwith a kind of pack saddle, are occasionally used in conveying thedried roots of the ginseng, beeswax, feathers, and the peltries whichare gathered by the inhabitants of remote districts, not accessibleto carriages, to the markets of the outer world. All the varieties ofordinary cattle could be made to serve as burden-carriers, and theydoubtless would be continued to be used for saddle purposes in oneway or another but for the wide use of the horse, a creature verymuch better adapted for carrying weight. The cloven foot of the bullsand buffaloes gives a weakness to the extremities which will quicklylead to disease in case they are forced to carry heavy loads suchas the horse or ass may safely bear. [Illustration: Ploughing in Syria] The help which our bovine servants afford us by the power which theyexert in traction, as in drawing ploughs, sleds, or wagons, appears tohave been first rendered long after their introduction to the ways ofman. The first of these uses in which the drawing strength of theseanimals was made serviceable appears to have been in the work ofploughing. In primitive days and with primitive tools, hand delvingwas a sore task. The inventive genius who first contrived to overturnthe earth by means of the forked limb of a tree, shaped in thesemblance of a plough and drawn by oxen, began a great revolution inthe art of agriculture. To this unknown genius we may award a placeamong the benefactors of mankind, quite as distinguished as that whichis occupied by the equally unknown inventors of the arts of making fireor of smelting ores. After the experience with the strength of oxen hadbeen won from the work of ploughing, it was easy to pass to the othergrades of their employment, where they were made to draw carriages. Next after the contribution which the kindred of the bulls, have madeby their strength, we must set that which has come from their milk. Although this substance can be obtained in small quantities fromseveral other domesticated animals, the species of the genus Bos alonehave yielded it in sufficient quantities greatly to affect thedevelopment of man. It is difficult to measure the importance of theaddition to the diet, both of savage and civilized peoples, which milkaffords. It is a fact well known to physiologists that in its simpleform this substance is a complete food, capable when taken alone ofsustaining life and insuring a full development of the body. It isindeed a natural contrivance exactly adapted to afford those materialswhich are required for the development and restoration of creaturesessentially akin to our own species. Those races which avail themselvesextensively of it in their dietary are the strongest and most enduringthe world has known. The Aryan folk are indeed characteristicallydrinkers of milk and users of its products, cheese and butter. It maywell be that their power is in some measure due to this resource. [Illustration: Winnowing Grain in Egypt] In our horned cattle man won to domestication creatures which wereadmirably suited to promote his advancement from savagery tocivilization. Indeed, the possession of these animals appears to havebeen a prime condition of his advancement. With them, however, as withthe camel, there came little in the way of those sympathetic qualitieswhich have made it possible for our race to establish affectionaterelations with other captive forms. Long intercourse with man has, itis true, somewhat diminished the wildness of these creatures, thoughthe males remain the most indomitably ferocious of all ourservants. The truth seems to be that the bovine animals have butlittle intellectual capacity, and it has in no wise served thepurposes of man to develop such powers of mind as they have. We haveever been given to asking little of them, save docility. This we havein a high measure won with our milch cows, which of all ourdomesticated creatures are perhaps the most absolutely submissive; themore highly developed of them being little more than passive producersof milk, almost without a trace of instincts or emotions except suchas pertain to reproduction and to feeding. It is a noteworthy factthat in all the great literature of anecdote concerning ourdomesticated animals, there is hardly a trace of stories which tend toshow the existence of sagacity in our common cattle. It is evident that the variability of our domesticated bovines, as faras their bodies are concerned, is very great. Between the ancientaurochs and the more highly cultivated of its descendants, thedifference is as great as that which separates any other of our captiveanimals from their wild ancestors. In size, shape, in flesh-andmilk-giving qualities, the departure from the old form of the wildernessis remarkable. Moreover, at the present time these diverse breeds ofhorned cattle are rapidly being multiplied, the distinctive formsprobably being twice as numerous as they were at the beginning of thepresent century. The process of selection has led to some very widediversifications of the body. The horns, which in the wild state areinvariably well developed, and which in the cattle of our Western plainsattain very great size, have in certain breeds altogether disappeared, and in their place there sometimes comes a remarkable crest of bonymatter which does not project beyond the skin which covers the head. Ifsuch differences occurred in the wild state, they would be regarded asseparating the two types of animals widely from each other. [Illustration: Egyptian Sheep] In treating the wool-bearing animals along with beasts of burden, wemake a somewhat fanciful classification which yet is not quite withoutreason. By long training man has brought these species to the statewhere their covering of wool or hair, once a coating only sufficient toafford protection from the weather, has become a very serious load. Incertain of our highly developed varieties the annual coat is so farincreased that the creature loses a large part of its bulk after theshearer has done his work. Each year's fleece often amounts in weightto eight to twelve pounds, and in its lifetime the animal may yield amass of wool far exceeding its weight of flesh and bones in any timeof its life. When the fleece is mature the animal is often burdenedwith a load about as heavy in proportion to his size as is a horse bythe weight of its rider and accoutrements. As a flesh producer, particularly in sterile fields, sheep are morevaluable than our horned cattle. They mature more rapidly, attainingtheir adult size and reproducing their kind in less than two years, sothat in many parts of the world it is possible to obtain a largerquantity of flesh from poor pasturages with sheep than with any otherof our domesticated animals. Their principal value, however, has beenfrom the means they afforded whereby men in high latitudes haveobtained warm clothing. Before the domestication of these creatures, peoples who had to endure the winter of high latitudes were forced torely upon hides for covering--a form of clothing which is clumsy, uncleanly, and which the chase could not supply in any considerablequantity. Owing to its peculiar structure, the hair of the sheep makesthe strongest and warmest covering, when rendered into cloth, which hasever been devised for the use of man. The value of this contribution isdirectly related to the conditions of climate. In the intertropicalregions the sheep plays no part of importance. In high latitudes it isof the utmost value to man. No other of our domesticated creatures, except the camel, is so specially adapted to the needs whichpeculiarities of climate impose upon their possessors. [Illustration: Bedouin Goat-Herd--Palestine] The relations of the goat to mankind are in certain ways peculiar. Thecreature has long been subjugated, probably having come into the humanfamily before the dawn of history. It has been almost as widelydisseminated, among barbarian and civilized peoples alike, as thesheep. It readily cleaves to the household, and exhibits much moreintelligence than the other members of our flocks and herds. It yieldsgood milk, the flesh is edible, though in the old animals not savory, and the hair can be made to vary in a larger measure than any of ouranimals which are shorn. Yet this creature has never obtained the placein relation to man to which it seems entitled. Only here and there isit kept in considerable numbers or made the basis of extensiveindustries. The reason for this seems to be that these animals cannotreadily be kept in flocks in the manner of sheep. They are only partlygregarious, and tend to stray from the owner's keeping. There seemsreason also to believe that they cannot easily be made to vary in othercharacteristics except their hairy covering at the will of the breeder, and so varieties cannot be formed, as is the case with sheep, to suiteach peculiarity of soil and climate. Thus in Europe, where it would beeasy to name a score of distinct breeds of sheep, each peculiarly wellsuited to the conditions of the country where it had been developed, the goats are singularly alike. The original stock of these creaturesappears to have been adapted to feeding on the scant herbage whichdevelops in rocky and mountainous countries. They do not seem able tomake the perfect use of the resources of a pasture which sheep do. These inherited peculiarities in feeding enable them to pick up asubsistence where they may range over a considerable territory, evenwhere it seems to afford no forms of food for the hungriest animal. Thus in that part of the city of New York known as "Shanty town, " goatsmay be seen in fairly good condition, although the sole source of food, besides a few stray weeds, appears to be the paste of the paperadvertisements which they pick from the rocks and fences. Although goats appear to be characterized by invariable bodies, oursheep are, in physical characteristics, among the most flexible of ourdomesticated animals. They may by selection readily and rapidly be madeto vary as regards the character of their wool, the size and proportionof their muscles, and the quantity and placing of the fat. In all thesefeatures they may be fairly blown to and fro by the wind of favor. Between the meagre-bodied merino, with its skeleton-like frame andheavily wrinkled skin bearing a vast burden of long wool, and the heavyHampshire-downs or South-downs, there is really an immense difference inbodily quality; yet these variations represent only a century or two ofcareful experiment on the part of the breeders. It seems not improbablethat in the present state of this developing art it would be possible, in a hundred years, to reverse the conditions of these two varieties. Sheep and goats, like the other herbivorous species which are thecommon tenants of our fields and forests, belong to the great class ofdull-witted mammals in which the intellectual processes appear to bealmost altogether limited to ancient and simple emotions, such as areinspired by fear or hunger. They are characterized by littleindividuality of mind, and although the needs of men have not led toany experiment in developing their wits, as in the case of dogs, thereis no reason to believe that they afford much foundation for suchessays. The present rapid variations in the physical characteristics ofour sheep which are induced by the breeder's skill, make it evidentthat we are far from having attained the maximum profit from thesecreatures. The goats also give promise, when selective work iscarefully done upon them, of giving much more than they now afford tothe uses of mankind; but from neither of these forms is there reason tohope, at least on our present lines of experiment, for any considerablegain in the intellectual qualities. [Illustration: The Great Caravan Road--Central Asia] We have already noted the fact that the sheep is especially adapted toserve man in high latitudes, where he has to provide against thewinter's cold. The camel is an even more striking instance in which thevalue of the creature depends upon climatal peculiarities. It ispeculiarly fitted, by its ancestral training and development, for theuse of men who dwell in arid countries. In the olden days of the laterTertiary epoch, creatures akin to the camels appear to have been widelydistributed, and were probably adapted to considerable variations ofenvironment. Within the time of which we know something by history, these forms have been limited to the arid districts of southwesternAsia and northern Africa. It is not certain that we know the originallywild form of either of the two species, the double-humped orsingle-humped camels. Wild members of each exist, but they may be thedescendants of the domesticated forms. It seems probable that longbefore the building of the Pyramids the people of the deserts hadlearned how to profit from the very peculiar qualities of thisstrangely provided beast, which in several distinct ways is singularlyfitted to serve the needs of man in arid lands. The large andwell-padded foot of this creature is well adapted for treading asurface unsoftened by vegetation. Its peculiar stomach enables it tostore water in such a manner that it can go for days without drink. Inthe humps upon its back, as in natural pack-saddles, it may harvest ashare of the nutriment which it obtains from occasional goodpasturages, the store being laid away in the form of fat which mayreturn to the blood when the creature would otherwise starve. Soimportant have these peculiarities been found by men who havedomesticated the camel, that on them have rested many of the mostinteresting features of race development in the history of our kind. Inthe territories along the eastern and southern shores of theMediterranean, and in a large part of southern and central Asia, thecamel has done service to man which elsewhere has been performed bysheep, cattle, and horses. In those parts of the world the share whichthese domesticated animals have had in the development of man has beenrelatively small. The camel has given the strength for burdens, hairfor clothing, and often flesh to the needy men of the desert. [Illustration: The Halt in the Desert at Night--The Story Teller] Although long a captive, and for ages, perhaps, the most serviceable ofall the creatures which man has won from the wilds, the camel is stillonly partly domesticated, having never acquired even the small measureof affection for his master which we find in the other herbivorousanimals which have been won to the service of man. The obedience whichhe renders is but a dull submission to inevitable toil. Theintelligence which he shows is very limited, and, so far as I can judgefrom the accounts of those who have observed him, there is but littlevariation in his mental qualities. As a whole, the creature appears tobe innately the dullest and least improvable of all our servitors. The fact is, this animal belongs to an ancient and lowly type ofmammals characterized by relatively small brains, and therefore of weakintelligence; but, for its singular serviceableness in drought-riddencountries, it would probably have been hunted off the earth by theearly men, as have been many other remnants of the ancient life. [Illustration: Camels Feeding] It is somewhat characteristic of the older forms of animals, thosewhich took shape in the earlier Tertiary periods, that they are lessvariable than those which acquired their characteristics in timesnearer our own. It is a fact well known to the students ofpaleontology, that species and genera which have been long on theearth are apt to become in a way rigid as regards their qualities ofbody and mind. It is an interesting fact that, although the camel canreadily be transplanted to many other parts of the world, where thephysiographic conditions are similar to those of the realm where he hasserved man so well, he has never been thoroughly successful except inthe regions where he has been in use for ages. In the desert regions ofthe Cordilleras of America, in South Africa, and in Australia, variousexperiments go to show that the creature could be perfectly reconciledto its environment. Many years ago a lot of camels were brought to thevalley of the Rio Grande with a view to their utilization in thatregion, which closely resembles the desert countries about theMediterranean. These animals were thoroughly successful in meeting theclimatal conditions of the region. They proved as strong and as fertileas in their natural realms. Although it is said they survive to thepresent day, they have never been of any service to the people. [Illustration: Carrying the Sugar Cane in Harvest--Egypt] Although, as before noted, the camel has a certain value for otherpurposes than conveying burdens, these subsidiary uses are so farlimited that the creature is not likely to retain a place in the worldafter his service in caravans is no longer called for. The rapidrecivilization of northern Africa, leading as it does to the developmentof a railway system in that region, promises to displace this creaturefrom his most trodden ways. It seems likely that the other portions ofthe desert lands in the old world will soon be brought under the samecivilizing influences, the nomadic tribes reduced to a stationary habitof life, and the commerce effected in the modern manner. When thischange is brought about, this old-time animal, which but for the care ofman would have probably long since passed away, will be likely, saveso far as it may be preserved through motives of scientific interest, tojoin the great array of vanished species. [Illustration: Camels along the Sea at Twilight] It affords a pleasant contrast to turn from the consideration of thecamels to a study of the elephants. The difference in the measure ofattractiveness of the two forms is very great, and depends upon facts ofremarkable interest. Unlike the camel--which, as we have seen, is thelast survivor of an ancient lineage, represented by but two species, andthese limited to a small part of the world--the elephant, at the timewhen man appears to have taken shape, seems to have existed on all thecontinental lands except Australia, and to have been in a state ofsingular prosperity. As is often the case with other vigorous genera ofmammals, the species were adapted to a very great variety of climates, and were fitted to endure tropic heat as well as arctic cold. The group of elephants is first known to us in the early part ofTertiary time. From its first appearance on our stage it seems to havebeen successful in a high measure, and this probably by reason of itspossession of the remarkable invention of the trunk--a prolonged andmarvellously flexible nose which serves in the manner of an arm andhand for gathering food. When we first find traces of mankind in the records of the rocks, inwhat appears to be an age just anterior to the Glacial epoch, theelephant had passed the experimental stages of its development andwas firmly established as the king of beasts. In his adult form hehad nothing to fear from any of the lower animals, and by theorganization of herds it is probable that even the young weretolerably safe from assault. Until the early races of men had attaineda considerable skill in the use of weapons, the great beasts wereprobably safe from human attack. We may well believe that primitivesavages shunned them as unconquerable. As early, perhaps, as theclosing stages of the Glacial epoch in Europe, we find evidences whichpretty clearly show that the folk of that land, probably belonging tosome race other than our own, had attained a state of the warlike artsin which they could venture to hunt this creature. The species of elephant which was hunted by the early men of Europe, and perhaps also by those in Asia and America as well, was a greaterand, at least in appearance, a more formidable monster than the livingspecies of Asia or Africa. He was on the average taller and probablybulkier than any of his living kindred. The tusks were large andcurved in a curious scimitar form. Adding to the might of its aspectwas a vast covering of hair, which on the neck appears to have had theform of a mane. This covering must have greatly increased theapparent size of the creature, which no doubt appeared about twice aslarge as any of our modern elephants which are nearly hairless. Although the perils of this ancient chase must have been great, thetriumphs were equally so, and to a people who lived by hunting, mostprofitable; a single animal would furnish more food than scores ofthe lesser beasts such as the reindeer. It seems probable that the ancient northern elephant continued inexistence in North America down to the time when this continent wasinhabited by man. It can hardly be doubted that the very ancient humanbeings, whose remains are preserved to us beneath the lava streams ofCalifornia, dwelt on the continent along with the mammoth. Inexcavations which I have made at Big Bone Lick in Kentucky, where agroup of saline springs emerges at the bottom of a valley, there weredisclosed a very great number of skeletons of this great elephant, commingled with the bones of one or two smaller forms of the relatedgenus, the mastodon. At a slightly higher level was the multitude ofremains belonging to an extinct species of bison which came just beforeour so-called buffalo, while near the surface of the ground was foundthe waste of the creatures which were in the field when it was firstseen by the white men. A very careful search failed to reveal any traceof man until the uppermost level was attained. The facts, which cannotwell be discussed here, have led me to the conclusion that only a fewthousand years can have elapsed since the mammoth and the mastodonplentifully abounded in North America; but I am forced to doubt whetherour savages were here in time to make acquaintance with these animals. It is not certain that the extermination of the great northernelephant or mammoth even in the Old World came about through theaction of man. It is possible that the death was due to more naturalcauses, such as the change of climate which attended the decline ofthe Glacial period, or to the attacks of some insect enemy like thetsetze fly of South Africa, which occasionally brings destruction tocattle in that part of the world. On the whole, however, it seemsmost probable that the extermination of this noble beast is to beaccounted among the brutal triumphs of mankind, perhaps as the firstof the long tale of destructions which he has inflicted upon hisfellow-creatures. However this may be, it is clear that at the dawnof civilization the species of the genus elephas had become limitedto that part of the African continent which lies south of the Sahara, and to the portion of Asia east of the Persian Gulf and south ofChina. The remnant consisted of two species: the African form, on theaverage the larger of the two, a fierce and scarcely domesticablecreature; and the Asiatic, a milder-natured species which alone hasbeen to any extent brought into the service of man. It is not certain when or where elephants were first reduced todomestication. In the dawn of history we find them used to enhance thestate of princes and for the purposes of war. It seems possible thatin this early day the African as well as the Asiatic species wastamed, at least to the point where they could be made to serve inbattle. We can hardly believe that all these animals which were at thecommand of Hannibal and the other generals of North Africa, came fromthe Asiatic realm. The fact that in modern times the species whichdwells south of the Sahara has not been turned to the uses of man, maybe accounted for by the lowly estate of the native people in that partof the world, and the lack of need for such creatures in the economicconditions of the Aryan folk who have settled along the shores and inthe southern part of that continent. The relations of man to the elephant are more peculiar than those whichhe has formed with any other domesticated animal. Although the creaturewill breed in captivity, its reproduction in that state is exceptional, and it is many years before the offspring are fit for any service. Itis indeed about thirty years before the creature is sufficiently adultto attain a good measure of strength and endurance. It has thereforebeen the habit of the people who avail themselves of this admirablebeast to use the captures which they make in the wilderness. It is amost interesting and exceptional fact that these captive elephants, though bred in perfect freedom and provided with none of thoseinherited instincts so essentially a part of the value of our otherdomesticated quadrupeds, become helpful to man and attached to him in away which is characteristic of none other of our ancient companionsexcept the dog. It is safe to say that the Asiatic elephant is the mostinnately domesticable, and the best fitted by nature for companionshipwith man, of all our great quadrupeds. The qualities of mind which inour other domesticated quadrupeds have been slowly developed bythousands of years of selection and intercourse with our kind, are inthis creature a part of its wild estate. It appears from trustworthy anecdotes that the Asiatic elephants in afew months of captivity acquire the rules of conduct which it isnecessary to impose upon them. The speediness of this intellectualsubjugation may be judged from the fact that, after a short term ofdomestication, they will take a willing and intelligent part incapturing their kindred of the wilderness, showing in this work littleor no disposition to rejoin the wild herds. In the case of no otheranimal do we find anything like such an immediate adhesion to the waysof civilization. We have to account for this eminent peculiarity of theelephant on the supposition, which appears to be thoroughly justified, that the creature has, even in its wild state, a type of intelligenceand instincts more nearly like those of men than is the case with anyother wild mammal, an affinity with human quality which is, perhaps, only approached by certain species of birds. It appears from theobservations of naturalists that the family or tribe of wild elephantsis a distinct and highly sympathetic community. The grade and value ofthe friendly feeling which prevails among them may be judged by thefact that, when one of the males becomes lost or is driven away fromits associates, it does not seem to be able to join any other tribe, but becomes a "rogue, " or solitary individual, and in this statedevelops a morose and furious temper. There are many well-attested stories which serve to show that wildelephants have a kind of intelligence which indicates a certainconstructive capacity. Of these, perhaps the best are the instances inwhich the creatures have been caught in pitfalls, made by digging ahole in the paths of the wilderness which they are accustomed tofollow, the surface being covered with a frail platform so arranged asto conceal the excavation. When one of a tribe is caught in the trap, the others, if time allows before the hunters come to the ground, willin an ingenious way release him. I doubt if the most practicablemanner of effecting this will occur at once to the reader. The easiestplan may seem to drag the captive from the pit by sheer strength, butas the hole is deep and has vertical sides, the elephants contrive abetter way. They bring bits of timber, which they throw into thepitfall, the captive treads them down until he is elevated to aposition whence he can escape from his prison. The intelligence of the wild elephant is probably in good part to beaccounted for by the fact that the creature possesses in its trunk aninstrument which is admirably contrived to execute the behests of anintelligent will. It is easy for us to see how, in the case of man, thehands have served to develop the intelligence by providing him withmeans whereby he could do a great variety of things which demandedthought and afforded education. The elephant is the only large mammalwhich has ever acquired a serviceable addition to the body such as thetrunk affords. In their ordinary life the trunk does almost as variedwork as the human arm. With it they can express emotions in a remarkableway; they caress their young, gather their food by a great variety ofmovements, or defend themselves from assailants. To the naturalist whohas come to perceive the close relations between bodily structure andmental endowments, it is not surprising to find that these creatureshave attained a quality of mind which is found nowhere else among themammals except in man and in some of his kindred, the apes. The most peculiar mental quality of the elephant, a feature whichseparates him even from the dog, is the rational way in which he willdo certain kinds of mechanical work. He appears to have an immediatesense as to the effects of his actions, which we find elsewhere onlyamong human beings. From a great body of well-attested observations, showing what may be called the logical quality of the mind of thesecreatures, I may be allowed to select a few stories which have asingular denotative value. An acquaintance of mine, a British officerwho had served long in India, told me that in taking artillery oververy difficult roads, certain of the abler elephants could be trustedto walk behind each piece, where they would in a fashion control itsmovements, steadying or lifting it as the occasion demanded withoutany directions from the driver. [Illustration: An Indian Elephant] Elephants can be trained to pile up sticks of timber, such as railwayties, placing the layers alternately in opposite directions, as is thecustom in such work. There is an excellent and well-attested story ofan elephant who, without a driver, was bearing a stick of timberthrough a narrow wood path. Meeting a man on horseback, andperceiving that the way was not wide enough for both himself and theoncomer, the sagacious animal deliberately backed his huge body intothe chaparral so as to clear the way, and then trumpeted as if tosignal the horseman that the path was free. The emotions as well as the intelligence of elephants are singularlylike those of human kind. It is said by those who know them well thatif when in their stubborn fits they are brutally overborne, they areapt to die of what seems to be pure chagrin. Their states of grief, despair, and rage much resemble those which are exhibited by violentchildren or men unaccustomed to control. Their affections andanimosities have also a curious human cast. They readily formattachments which appear to be quite as enduring as those exhibited bydogs, and their memory of injuries remains quick for years after theyhave received the harm. Well-verified anecdotes showing the likenessof these emotional qualities to our own exist in such numbers that itwould be easy to fill a volume with them. They are, however, notnecessary to show the likeness of the creature to ourselves. This issufficiently exhibited by their daily behavior under domestication. Innoting this we should remember that the male elephant is the onlylarge mammal the males of which it has proved safe to use in theordinary work of life. Even our bulls and stallions, though theybelong to species which have been domesticated for thousands of years, are so violent and untrustworthy as to be of little value except forbreeding purposes. Bulls, even of the tamer breeds, are a constantmenace to the lives of their masters; yet an adult male elephantrecently made captive may, except when seriously diseased, be trustedto obey the mere signals of the driver, who has no such control overhim as the bit affords in the case of horses. The creature has thestrength to overcome all control save that of a moral nature. To thishe submits in a way which is only equalled by our well-bred dogs. As yet the utility of the elephant to man has, measured by hisqualities, been but small. The creature has a marvellous strength, great intelligence, and remarkable docility. In proportion to thepower which he can apply to a task, he is not an expensive animal tomaintain. He can endure a considerable range of climate, and enjoys atolerable immunity from disease. The reason for the relativelyinconsiderable use of these creatures is probably to be found in thefact that they are not adapted for ordinary draught purposes, nor arethey well suited to the needs of the caravan, for which the camel orthe pack-mule is much better fitted. In ancient warfare, before theinvention of gunpowder, elephants carrying archers or javelin-men upontheir backs were greatly valued for the effect of their charge againstan enemy and for the fright with which they inspired horses. Againstthe unsteady ranks of Oriental armies they were often most efficientin breaking a line of battle. Even the Roman troops, when they firstencountered them and before they knew how to meet their charges, foundthem very formidable. It was soon learned that if their onset wasstoutly resisted, they were likely to become unmanageable in theuproar of the fight, and to do as much damage to friends as to foes. It is only in certain peculiar tasks that, in modern days, theelephants have any economic value, and in the most of this work theirstrength is likely to be replaced by various engines. The two existing species of elephants are, as before remarked, thesurvivors of a long lineage, represented in the geological record bythe remains of many extinct forms. Some of these lost species were farsmaller than those of to-day; one at least was no larger than ourheavier horses. If by the breeder's art the existing varieties could becaused so to change as to give us once again this relatively diminutiveform, the creature would be sure to find a place of importance in ourordinary arts. The trouble is that the very long life of this animal isnaturally associated with a slow growth. It requires indeed almost thelifetime of a generation to bring the individual to an adult age. It istherefore not surprising that, as the wild forms can readily be won todomestication, these creatures have not been the subject of any of thoseinteresting processes of selection which have so far affected for thebetter the characteristics of nearly all the other domesticated animals. In every other regard than those mentioned above, the elephant appearsto be an excellent subject for improvement by choice in breeding. Theindividuals vary much as regards their physical and mental qualities. Probably no other wild mammal exhibits such differences in the mentalfeatures as does this highly intellectual creature. The physicalindividuality does not seem to be as striking as the mental, but evenhere we note a range, at least as regards size, which is unusual in thewild forms bred under similar conditions. The general elasticity of thegroup is shown by the considerable differences which may be traced inthe herds which occupy different parts of the field over which thespecies range. As yet these local peculiarities have not been carefullystudied; but from an examination of the tusks in the ivory warehouse atthe docks in London, I have found that those shipped from particularports in Africa and Asia differed both in form and texture, so thatthe experts were able to tell from which district they came. Theevidence, in a word, appears to show that the creature tends to vary;and it is a safe presumption that the forms would prove as responsiveto the breeder's art as those of our horses, cattle, sheep, or dogs. As a whole, the elephant has been almost as little associated with thelife of our own race as the camel. Neither of these creatures has everplayed any considerable part in European affairs. From thedisappearance of the last of the mammoths in the closing stages of theGlacial time until the invasions of Italy by Pyrrhus and by Hannibal, elephants were practically unknown in Western Europe. They have neverbeen used in peaceful occupations on that continent, and have had onlya trifling place in its military arts. It was probably due to thisseparation of our eminently experimental race from the realm of theelephants that no efforts have been made systematically to breed themin captivity, and thus to win varieties in which the form might becomebetter adapted to economic needs, and the remarkable mental powers ofthe creature be brought to their utmost development. As yet the onlyEuropeans who have had much to do with elephants are the British, whoin their civil and military service in India have been thrown incontact with these animals. Generally, however, these people have beenonly temporarily domiciled in Asia, and probably on this account havenot become interested in the problems which this noble beast presentsto all those who appreciate the animal world. We lack, indeed, theobservations which might have been made with admirable effect byBritish observers in India during the two centuries in which thatpeople has had to do with the lands in which elephants abound. The elephant of Africa is still a tolerably abundant animal. Itsnumbers, though doubtless diminished by more than one-half within thiscentury, are probably to be counted by the hundred thousand. Nevertheless, in less than a hundred years the field which they occupiedhas been greatly reduced; and between the ivory hunter and the sportsmanof our brutal race armed with guns of ever-increasing deadliness, itwill certainly not require another century of free shooting toannihilate the African species. In view of the present condition of thelife of these noble beasts, it seems in a high measure desirable that athorough-going effort should be made to extend the domestication to thepoint where the form will not only be won from the wilds, but will be apermanent element in our civilization, in the manner of our commonflocks and herds. It will be an enduring shame if, by neglect of ouropportunities, the utmost is not done to attain this end. It appears fitthat this task should be undertaken by the British Government, which inmodern days has displayed a skill and forethought in the administrationof its Indian provinces unexampled in the history of colonies. Owing tothe slow breeding-rate of the elephant, it may require more than acentury for experiments to attain any definite result, so that the taskis clearly beyond the limits of individual endeavor. Among the humbler helpers of man, the pig holds an important place. Hehas had no small share in the betterment of the estate of his masters. One of the large questions which beset men in their unconsciousendeavors to lay the foundations of civilization was that offood-supply. No sooner does a population become sedentary than thewildernesses about its dwelling-place are rapidly cleared of the largegame, so that the chase affords but little save amusement. Therefore aprovision in the way of meat has to be obtained from domesticatedanimals. The flocks and herds supply this need, though in a costly way. Sheep have a value for their wool; horned cattle develop slowly, andare, moreover valuable, the oxen for their strength and the cows fortheir milk. Horses are too valuable to be used for food, save in timesof exceeding stress; and none but the lowest savages are willing to sendtheir faithful dogs to the pot. From the beginning of his experiencewith man the pig has been found the cheapest and most serviceabledomesticated animal as a source of food-supply. We can trace the origin of our domesticated pigs more clearly than inthe case of the most of the other subjugated animals. The creature isevidently descended from the wild boar of Europe and Asia; and thoughlong under domestication and greatly varied from its primitive stock, it readily reverts to something like its original form when allowed tobetake itself once more to the wilds. The domestication of the speciesappears to have been accomplished at several different points in Asiaand Europe. The forms which are found in eastern Asia differ from thosewhich are kept in the western portion of the great continent, and mayhave their blood commingled with that of another species which isnative in that part of the world. Among our domesticated animals the pig is exceptional in the fact thatit has been bred for its flesh alone; for although the hide isvaluable and the hair serves certain purposes, as in the manufactureof brushes, these uses are only incidental and modern. They have notaffected the plan of the breeder, whose aim has been to produce thelargest weight of flesh in the shortest time, and with the leastexpenditure of food. In this peculiar task the success has beenremarkable, the creature having been made to vary from its primitivecondition in an extraordinary manner. In its wild state the speciesdevelops slowly, requiring, perhaps, three or four years to attain itsmaximum size. It never becomes very fat, but remains an agile, swift-footed, and fierce tenant of the wilds. Under the conditions ofsubjugation the pig has been brought to a state in which its qualitiesof mind and body have undergone a very great change. In the moredeveloped breeds, even the males, when kept about the barnyard, arequiet-natured and not at all dangerous. The creatures have becomeslow-moving; they attain their full development in about half the timerequired for the growth of their wild kindred, and when adult they mayoutweigh them in the ratio of four to one. The effect arising from the food-supply which our pigs afford is wellseen in the use which is made of their flesh in all the ruder work ofmen, at least in the case of those of our race. Our soldiers andsailors are to a great extent fed on the flesh of these creatures, which lends itself readily to preservation by the use of salt. Sorapidly can these animals be bred, owing to the number of young whichthey produce in a litter and the swiftness of their growth, thatsudden demands for an increase in the supply, such as occurred at theoutbreak of our civil war, can quickly be met. If the need shouldarise, the quantity of pork produced in this country could readily bedoubled within eighteen months. This is the case with no other sourceof flesh-supply, and this fact gives the pig a peculiar importance. Owing to the remarkably complete domestication of this animal, andalso to the fact that it is omnivorous, the creature has ever been afavorite with the cotter class. Those folk, who can afford neithersheep nor horned cattle, can often provide the food for pigs, andthus, in turn, be much better fed than they would otherwise be. It is only within two centuries that our pigs have attained toanything like the domestication in which we commonly find them. Of oldthey were allowed to range the forests, much as they do in certainparts of our Southern States at the present day. In some parts ofEurope, particularly in the southern portion of the continent, thismethod of rearing and feeding is still common. It was and isadvantageous, for the reason that the creature, by its remarkably keensense of smelling and its singular capacity for overturning theground, is able to provide itself with abundant food in the way ofgrubs and roots which are not at the disposition of any other animal. It was only as the public forests disappeared that pigs came toreceive any considerable part of their provender from the products oftilled fields. In this stage of our agriculture, when all the land waspossessed, the life of the pig was necessarily more restricted, and hebecame the denizen of a pen. In the earlier state there was no costfor his keeping; in the latter, except so far as he could be fed fromthe waste of a household, he is an expensive animal. It is with this last state of the pig, when he became the most housedof our domesticated animals, that the work of the breeder reallybegan. The aim of those who have developed the pig has been, as wehave said, to obtain the most rapid growth along with the greatestweight of fat, and to accomplish the results with the leastexpenditure in the way of food. Although the animal has been subjectedto selective experiments, looking to these ends, for not more than acentury, or say about forty generations of the species, the amount ofvariation which has been attained is singularly great, the form andhabits having been changed more rapidly, and in a larger measure, thanin the case of any other of our domesticated animals. It may fairly besaid that this creature is more obedient to the will of the practicalselectionist than any other with which we have experimented. It is commonly assumed that our pigs are among the least intelligentof the creatures which man has turned to his use. This impression isdue to the fact that the conditions in which these animals are keptinsure their degradation by cutting them off from all the naturalmental training which wild animals, as well as the other tenants ofthe fields, receive. In the state of nature or in the condition ofdomestication which existed before pigs became captives in theirpens, they were among the most alert and sagacious animals with whichman has come in contact. Their wits were quick and their sympathieswith their kind remarkably strong. Trainers have found thesecreatures more apt in receiving instruction than any other of ourmammals, and the things which they can be made to do appear toindicate a native intelligence nearer to that of man than is found inany other species below the level of the apes. As there is little in the books of anecdotes of animals concerningpigs, I venture to give an account of a learned individual of thisspecies whose performances I had an opportunity of observing in muchdetail. The creature, an ordinary specimen about three years old, hadbeen trained by a peasant in the mountain district of Virginia whomade his living by instructing animals for show purposes. He statedthat in selecting pigs for education it was his practice to choosethose characterized by a considerable width between the eyes andwhose skulls projected in this part of their periphery to a more thanusual degree. He said that from many experiments he was satisfiedthat there was a very great difference in the capacity of the animalsto receive training, and that the above-mentioned indices affordedhim sufficient guidance in his choice. In the exhibition about to be described there were but three personspresent, myself, another spectator, and the showman. A score of cardswere placed upon the ground, each bearing a numeral or the name ofsome distinguished person. These cards were in perfect disorder. I wasallowed, indeed, repeatedly to change their position and to mix themup as I pleased. The pig was then told to pick out the name of AbrahamLincoln and bring it to his master. This he readily did. He was askedin what year Lincoln was assassinated. He slowly but withoutcorrection brought one by one the appropriate numerals and put them onthe ground in due order. Half a dozen other questions concerning namesand dates were answered in a similar way. Each success was rewardedwith a grain of corn, and for his failures the creature received areasonable drubbing. It was evident that the animal had to consider inmaking his choice of the cards. At times he was evidently much puzzledand would indicate his perplexity by squealing. It seemed clear that the master of this learned pig did not guide themovements of the animal by other indications than words. The questions, in some cases, had to be reiterated in a loud voice in order to insureattention. Several times during the performance the pig rebelled, brokefrom the tent, and was with difficulty recaptured. The creaturedisliked this task in the manner of a lazy school-boy, and at the endof an hour of exercises seemed utterly overcome by his labor. He raninto the box where he was ordinarily confined, and when dragged forth, neither rewards nor punishments would quicken him to further work. The above-described exhibition made it plain to me that the pig can betaught to understand a certain amount of human speech and to associatememories with phrases substantially as we do ourselves. It is perfectlyclear that the performance which I witnessed was not a mere routineaction, for I had a number of questions asked over again so as to makeit sure that the creature acted with reference to each separate inquiry. The behavior of the animal during the performance seemed clearly toindicate mental effort and not mere automatic memory. His attitude whentrying to determine which of two cards to take distinctly showed that hewas intently viewing the figures and endeavoring to come to a decision. I am aware it has been suggested that learned pigs discriminate betweenthe cards by peculiarities of odor which have been given to these bitsof paper. I sought carefully to find if such was the case, and though Ihave a very keen sense of smell I found nothing which led me to suspectthat this device was used. Even if such were the case, the rationalityof the animal's action would be none the less clear. The showman assuredme that he never used any such means in training pigs. He seemed, indeed, to treat the suggestion with contempt. Although experiments in the training of pigs show that they have ratherremarkable intellectual capacities, the most human feature in theirmental organization is found in the keen sympathy which they exhibitwith the sufferings of their own kind and the willingness with whichthey encounter danger in protecting their comrades. It usually requiresclose observation for the naturalist to determine the existence of thismotive among the other wild or domesticated mammals. In fact, thetraces of it are very slight indeed, and are generally to beattributed to the care of parents for offspring or of the males fortheir harem--a disposition which, though akin to the defence of thekind, is nevertheless of a special and peculiar nature. Even among ourdomestic dogs, whose sympathies have been developed in a remarkabledegree and who will sacrifice their lives to defend or rescue thehuman beings with whom they are familiar, there appears to be butlittle disposition to support members of their species who may beassailed. With pigs, however, as is well known to all those who haveobserved their habits, the characteristic cry of distress of theirfellows proves very exciting and stimulates all the adults, both maleand female, who hear it to hasten in defence of their kinsmen. It is anoteworthy fact that while most other animals when in danger utter nodistinct or continuous cry, the pig gives voice in a vociferous andinsistent manner, as if he had a right to expect the sympathy and helpof his species. The cry goes with the custom of defence which in thisspecies has attained a better foundation in the sympathetic motivesthan in any other mammal below the level of man. It is perhaps due to their relatively high intellectual organizationthat the excessively domesticated pigs are liable to suffer fromattacks of mania. This is most commonly exhibited by the sows, which attimes will destroy their young shortly after they are born. The sightof their progeny seems to infuriate them in a curious manner. One sowwhich I owned killed three successive litters; another fine animal ofthe Berkshire breed, a very amiable, indeed affectionate, creature, wascarefully watched at the time she first bore young, precautions beingtaken to prevent her from harming them; she would willingly allow themto suckle, provided she did not see them, but the moment she laid hereyes upon them she was seized with the strange fury. Although this singular perversion of the natural instincts of maternitysometimes occurs among the pigs which are allowed to roam together inherds, it seems to be far more common in those conditions where theanimals are confined in pens without contact with their kind, and wherethey have no chance to recognize the young as members of their speciesor to acquire that interest in them which they would gain in thesociety of the herd. It is also clear that this maniacal habit isinherited; according to my observation it is common among theBerkshire, and relatively rare in other less specialized varieties. The intelligence of the pig is also shown in the readiness with whichthe creature changes its habits to meet varied environments. Thus thepigs which range the woods in the western and southern parts of theUnited States have learned to catch the crawfish which abounds in theshallow streams in those parts of this country. They will wade up abrook, turning over the stones and driftwood as they go, catching witha quick movement the crustaceans which they have thus dislodged fromtheir cover. Along the shores of the Bay of Fundy, the pigs, accustomedto follow the tide out, picking the chance food which is thus exposedto them, have learned carefully to avoid the risk of being caught bythe returning waters. With the first splash of the turning tide theyhasten inshore until they have attained safe ground. One of the best evidences of the mental state of these animals isfound in their actions when assailed by dogs or other beasts of prey. Pigs, though wary and sensible of danger, seem exempt from theextreme fear which leads to panic, and fight, even before beingbrought to bay by long chasing, in a discreet and valiant manner. Where a number of them are attacked by dogs or other enemies, theywill form a circle with their heads out, each supporting the otherin such a manner that the ring cannot readily be broken. Theirthick-skinned forequarters and stout tusks provide them withexcellent instruments with which to resist an assault. The sagacity of the pigs is probably, in part at least, to beattributed to the fact that in their native state they are communalanimals, all the species of their family being accustomed to livegregariously, so that for ages they have had the training which everysocial organization, however simple, affords. They are, moreover, omnivorous feeders, accustomed to subsist on a great variety offood--a habit which seems in all cases to promote the developmentof the intelligence in animals. Although the pigs by their nature afforded the best opportunity fordeveloping an intellectual animal which has come to us through ourdomesticated creatures, no effort whatever has been made by selection todevelop the latent mental capacities of this species. It is perhaps theonly form of those which man has subjugated which by his treatment hetends to degrade. In the time to come, when men will be held to a betteraccountability for the treatment of their captives, the condition ofthese animals will afford a fair field for the reformer's care. The geologist who is acquainted with the mammalian life of the MiddleTertiary period readily notes the fact that the variety in genera andspecies appears to be much greater than it is at the present time. Agreat number of forms, differing somewhat widely from those now inexistence, then abounded in the Americas and the Old World. It may atfirst sight seem unfortunate that man did not have the chance to essayhis domesticative arts on that older and apparently richer life. Acloser examination, however, leads us to see that the species of thattime, though more numerous than those of the present, were on the wholeless fitted for our use than the fewer but more completelydifferentiated kinds with which we have had to deal. The multitude ofkinds which we find in the Mesozoic period indicates that the life wasin a state more experimental than that to which it has attained. A hostof forms on their way towards the specialization which has now beenattained have been removed from the sphere, in the manner of ascaffolding from a completed structure. That which has been left remainsbecause it has successfully accomplished the task of reconciliation withenvironment, or, in simpler phrase, because it has learned to do thingswhich were useful and profitable in a more perfect manner. As an illustration of the fact that the animals of to-day are betterfitted to be the help-meets of man than were their ancestors of anearlier time, we may note the state of the horse at the time when thatgenus was undergoing its development in the region about the upperwaters of the Missouri. As may be imagined, the long and difficultpassage from the five-toed to the single-toed form was slowlyaccomplished, and to its doing went a great many temporary forms, whichserved, we may say, as stepping-stones for the ongoing. So far as we canjudge, these intermediate forms were small, rather frail creatures, which probably could not have been made to serve any purpose useful toman. It was not until the mechanical system of the large single toe withthe wonderfully developed nail, which makes up the foot and hoof of thehorse, had been attained, that the creature becomes fit for thewonderful work we have persuaded him to do in our civilization. A comparison of the skulls of the Tertiary mammals and those of our ownday indicates that in certain of the important series, and presumably inthem all, the brain has increased in size from the earlier to the latertimes. This increase in brain capacity has doubtless been attended by adecided gain in the measure of intelligence, a gain which has doubtlessserved to make the modern representatives of the series fitter for man'suse than their ancestors were. For, while the number of our very usefuldomesticated forms may seem at first sight to be dull of wit, none ofthem are really low in the intellectual scale as we apply it to thebrute; in fact, a considerable measure of intelligence is absolutelyrequired as a condition for true subjugation. This is seen by the factthat nothing like a real adoption into our social system has ever beenaccomplished except with a few of the higher orders of mammals andbirds, species which have an intellectual capacity that we recognize asakin to our own. Thus, so far as we can see, man's appearance on thisstage was, so far as it relates to the possibility of companionship withthe lower life, exceedingly well timed. He came at a period when thelife was ready to give him and to receive from him a large measure ofhelp. If his advent had been much earlier, he might have had lesstrouble in his contests with the larger carnivora; but if there had beena lack of beasts to obey his will, it is doubtful whether he couldhimself have won his way above that primitive life. DOMESTICATED BIRDS Domestication of Animals mainly accomplished by the Aryan Race; Small Amount of Such Work by American Indians. --Barnyard Fowl: Mental Qualities; Habits of Combat. --Peacocks: their Limited Domestication. --Turkeys: their Origin; tending to revert to the Savage State. --Water Fowl: Limited Number of Species domesticated; Intellectual Qualities of this Group. --The Pigeon: Origin and History of Group; Marvels of Breeding. --Song Birds. --Hawks and Hawking. --Sympathetic Motive of Birds: their Ęsthetic Sense; their Capacity for Enjoyment. It is an interesting fact that about all the work of domestication whichhas been done by man has been accomplished by the peoples of Asia andmainly by the Aryan race. The American Indians tamed the llama andalpaca and a few species of native plants; even where their habits wereprevailingly sedentary they domesticated no birds. It was left forEuropeans to make use of the wild turkey. Our primitive people had thesame chance to tame ducks and geese as the folk of the Old World. Theyappear, however, to have lacked all capacity for such endeavors. Thesame lack of disposition to capture and tame wild creatures isnoticeable among the characteristic peoples of Africa; all of whichserves to show that the domesticating art, at least as applied toanimals, is peculiar to the higher-grade folk of the Old World. Of all the birds which have been domesticated, our common barnyard fowlhas been by far the most useful to man. It has become in a wayinterwoven with his life to a degree found only in a few of our barnyardanimals. Next after the pigeons and the pigs it has been most deeplyimpressed by the breeder's art. The wild species whence it sprang is asmall creature, laying but few eggs and with but a slight tendency toaccumulate fat. From this parent stock varieties have been bred whichattain in some cases to eight or ten times the weight of the ancientform. They have, moreover, lost the fierce combative spirit whichcharacterizes their ancestors and which by selection has been preservedand intensified in our breeds of game-cocks. [Illustration: The Original Jungle Fowl (_Gallus bankiva_) and Some of His Domestic Descendants] It is an interesting fact that our barnyard fowl is the only species ofa large family of birds which has been truly domesticated. The kindredpheasants and grouse, though abounding in the Old World and the New, andmuch disposed to abide about the cultivated fields, appear to be ratheruntamable. However well cared for, the wilderness motive seems never tohave been eradicated. The domesticability of the cock, as is that ofmost other wild animals, is doubtless to be explained by the conditionsof the life in which it has dwelt for ages before it was introduced tothe society of man. In its wild state this bird had already to a greatextent lost the power of flight, using its wings only for escaping fromfour-footed pursuers or to attain the branches of the trees in which itsought safety in the night time. With this measure of loss of the flyingpower, the creature abandoned the habit of ranging over a wide field, and thus was made more fit for domestication. Moreover, in theirwilderness life these birds dwelt in more established communities thantheir kindred species. The most of these wild forms do not keep togetherthrough the year, but scatter after the young are able to shift forthemselves. The Indian species of _Gallus_, however, from which ourcocks and hens descend, have organized their life so that theindividuals remain associate in a friendly way throughout the year. A part of the fitness of this creature to cast in its lot with manarises from the fact that they have very sympathetic natures. This isshown by the way in which the cocks will fight for their hens, evenagainst their dreaded enemies, the hawks; and by the manner in which themother, overcoming her natural fears, will do battle for her brood. Itis shown also in the curious mingling of gallantry and kindliness withwhich the cock will call a hen to give her some choice bit of food whichhe has captured. As he grows older and becomes Philistinish, we may notethat, after the manner of unfeathered bipeds, he is often disposed toindulge his selfishness, and summons his flock only to see him devourthe morsel. Even in old age, however, the males of the varieties whichare nearest the parent stock maintain their helpful motives and willstruggle with infirmity to beat off a bird of prey. The sympathetic and affectionate quality of our barnyard fowl is perhapsbest indicated by the singular variety and denotative value of theirvarious calls and cries. Those who know these birds well will find nodifficulty in recognizing about a score of diverse sounds, each of whichindicates a particular turn of their mind. Almost all of these differentnotes have slight variations of expression which fit particularsituations. Thus the crow of these birds, which may seem to theunobservant a very unvaried sound, discloses to those who have lovinglystudied them at least half a dozen distinct modifications. In thefledgling male who just begins to feel the spirit of his kind, and whogoes through his performance in the adolescent way, it is a cheap andoften pitiful call. From the open roost in the trees, where the birdsare gradually aroused by the slow-coming day, we can often hear the noteof the half-awakened cock, as full of the sense of slumber as the speechof a sleeping man. As the creature gradually awakens, his cry becomesmore resonant until it has the true morning ring. Brave as is this noteof the full day, it is not to be compared with the crowing of agame-cock, the most splendid braggart sound of all the animal world. The really sympathetic notes of our fowls are uttered in their ordinaryintercourse. Here the gradations of sounds have a range and finenesswhich, it seems to me, we can observe in no other creature below thelevel of man. Attention, astonishment, fear, commonplace distress, exultation, and agony are all set forth with cries which we, in a way, recognize as appropriate. Although some of these sounds relate to thelarger experiences of the creatures, the most instructive of them areuttered in their ordinary intercourse, where they clearly maintain akind of consensus in the flock by unending small bits of emotionalspeech, the notes being shaded in a wonderful way. These finevariations of utterance can sometimes be observed to be related toslight differences of situation. Thus the cackle of a hen when sheleaves her nest after laying an egg is quite different from that whichis made by the same hen when, during the period of incubation, shequits her eggs in search of food and water. It is not unlikely that the eminent domesticability of our common fowlsis in a way associated with the singular variety of their notes. Thisvariety indicates that the creatures are in constant and effectivecommunication with one another; in a word, they are very sympathetic. With this intellectual helpfulness naturally goes the love of thedomicile and a disposition to submit to control. So nice and well understood are the differences between the soundswhich these birds give forth, and so well are their notes appreciatedby their companions, that the creatures may well be said to have alanguage. Though it probably conveys only emotions and not distinctthoughts, it still must be regarded as a certain kind of speech. Themodes of expression indicate that in this creature, as in the otherfeathered forms, the intellectual life consists largely in themovements inspired by the emotions. On the rational side our fowls seemweaker than many other less interesting species. In their nesting andother habits there are no evidences of constructive ingenuity; and inall my observations on them I have never seen any evidence which showedeither considerable powers of memory or a capacity to act in anycomplicated way with reference to an end. It is evident, however, thatthey make a very good classification of the world about them. Theyhave, for the limited field over which they roam, a keen topographicsense; they never are lost, and this in connection with theirsympathetic homing instinct prevents them from wandering from theiraccustomed places to take up again with a wilderness life. In their adhesion to domestication our common fowls differ in aremarkable way from all other of our captive animals except the dog, andthese birds are even more ineradicably attached to man than their oldercompanion. While the dog will sometimes become half wild, or, as we mayphrase it, undomiciled, fowls seem incapable of maintaining themselvesapart from human care. In much ranging of the wilderness I have neverfound one of these creatures more than a thousand feet away from a humanhabitation. When we consider how common must be the chances of theirgoing astray, and how easy it is in many parts of the country, as in ourSouthern States, for them to obtain in the wilderness food throughoutthe year, the fact that they never go wild is indeed remarkable. It canonly be explained by the great development of the homing instinct whichman has brought about in their sympathetic souls. [Illustration: Houdin, Cochins, Leghorns, and Game] Although our unnatural process of breeding has done much to degrade theoriginal beauty of the cocks and hens, destroying the delicatecoloration of the feathers as well as the admirable blending andcontrasts of their pristine hues, it seems likely that the effect on thephysical and mental development as a whole has not been unfavorable. Though less courageous, they are stronger creatures than in their wildstate; they are clearly more fecund; they are gentler natured; and, sofar as I have been able to compare the high-bred with the primitiveforms, their range of expression through the voice has been muchincreased, a feature which may be noted in other domesticated species ofbirds, as, for instance, in the canaries. The most remarkable alterationwhich has been brought about in the minds of these creatures consistsin the very great diminution in the combative motive of the males. Inthe wild forms, as well as in the kindred variety of the game-cock, thisimpulse to battle attains a truly phenomenal development, the like ofwhich is probably not to be found in any other creature. The male birdsbegin their warfare before they are more than half grown, and in theiradult state will attack anything which they can conceive to be an enemy. They will, with slight provocation, assail any of the other domesticatedspecies of birds, and even the lesser mammals, such as the dogs andcats. They will fight their own image in a looking-glass. I have hadgame-cocks attack my hand when it was held near the ground and given anup-and-down movement in imitation of their antagonist's head. I once reared a game-cock by hand, keeping him secluded from his kinduntil he was adult. I then placed him in a large collection of barnyardfowl where there were half a dozen mongrel cocks, a drake of the muscovyvariety, several ganders, and two turkey-gobblers. Immediately and inrapid succession he settled his accounts with the males of his own kind. He shortly overcame the drake and the ganders. He then devoted what wasleft of his forces to battles with the turkeys. Here he found himself ingreat difficulty, for the reason that these great birds would seize himby the head and lift his body off the ground. However, he soon learnedan ingenious trick which protected him from this danger. When gatheringbreath in the intervals between his assaults, he would hover himselfbetween his antagonist's legs, keeping step with the awkward creature inits efforts to get away from him. In a few days he wore out thesedoughty foemen and remained the battered master of the field. Although the indomitable valor of the game-cock may be in some measuredue to the selection which the breeder has applied to the variety, therecan be no question that it is essentially natural to the species and isthe result of an age-long habit which in the native wilds of thecreature did much to insure its safety. The antiquity of the state ofmind may be judged by the perfection to which the spurs have attainedand the remarkably skilful and definite way in which the creatures usethem. The spur, which has arisen from the development of the scales andunderlying bone of the bird's leg, is a singularly perfect structure, the finish of which cannot be judged in the degraded form in which it isfound in our ordinary barnyard species. Although in its constructionthis weapon is admirably devised, it is placed in a position where onlya remarkably well-addressed movement can give effect to its blow. Thosewho have watched game-cocks in combat have had a chance to see thevaults by which the creature, partly turning in the air, is able tothrow the spur in such a manner that it shares the impulse of the bodywhen it strikes the antagonist. This peculiar craft has been in goodpart lost among our common varieties. Their spiritless contests differas much from those of the game-birds as do the fist fights of untrainedmen from the contests of skilled pugilists. [Illustration: Bantams, Brahma, and Dorkings] Although to persons unaccustomed to the spectacle the combats betweengame-birds may seem disgusting, almost every one must admire the valor, grace, and address which such scenes exhibit. Except where the brutalcustom of putting steel points on the spurs prevails, the birds rarelyreceive fatal wounds. The defeated cock is soon brought to confess hisinferiority and takes himself away. At no other time in the life ofthese birds does their organic beauty appear to such advantage as whenthey are struggling with each other. Then alone do we perceive thesingular efficiency of their bodies and the quick as well as appropriateaction of their instincts. They set themselves against each other inattitudes as well chosen and as peculiar as those of a well-trainedfencer. Before the assault they often go through a singular performance, which consists in picking up bits of twigs or pebbles. These they castinto the air, an unmeaning movement which may be compared to the likemeaningless though similarly graceful salute with which swordsmenpreface their contests. Then, with their legs flexed so that they may beready for the spring, and with the rather stiff feathers about the neckerected so as to serve as a shield, they creep toward each other untilthey are separated by the distance appropriate for the spring. Whenfairly placed for battle they begin a system of fence which is intendedto provoke the enemy to an untimely assault. The art of the game appearsto consist in persuading the adversary to venture an attack where hisforce will be spent in the air, so that a blow can be given him beforehe has time to recover position. The issue depends much on the enduranceof the birds. Their movements require so much energy that one of them isapt to become exhausted before the other is quite spent. In rare cases, only one of which has been seen by me, a weary bird will feign death fora minute or so and thus obtain new strength with which to renew thecombat, profiting also by the confusion which he will bring upon hisadversary by his sudden revival. Although the combatant motive which we find in the males among ourbarnyard fowls has doubtless been developed through their combats witheach other, the valiant spirit which has come from it often leads thecreatures to attack the enemies of their flock. I have seen a nimblegame-cock strike a hawk which was pouncing to its prey, delivering theblow some feet above the surface of the ground, and this so effectivelythat the marauder was driven away in a sorely hurt condition. I haveseen males of the game variety attack a number of other larger animalswhich in any way threatened their charges. Although our barnyard fowl are almost the only ground birds whichhave ever been brought to a state of perfect domestication, there areseveral other species of the same group which have been taught in ameasure to adhere to man. Of these perhaps the longest indomestication is the peafowl. This creature, though it has edible, indeed we may say savory flesh, has retained its small place incivilization solely on account of its extraordinary beauty. For itssize it is doubtless the most beautiful of animals, its plumage, especially the magnificent display of the tail, exceeding that of anyother natural object. There are other birds of small size which viewith the peacock in the details of ornamentation. Those jewels amongthe feathered tribes, the humming-birds, have a more delicate beauty. The birds-of-paradise and the lyre-birds have a grace in the attitudesof particular feathers which is unequalled; but for splendor none ofthem approach the peacock in his best estate. [Illustration: Contributions from Asia, Africa, and America--Peacocks, Guinea-fowl, and Turkey] The peacock is a native of Southern Asia, a realm in fact in which thespecies of the group attain an uncommonly rich development. The creatureappears to have been domesticated some thousands of years ago, but hasundergone no considerable changes in its experience with man. It has intruth not been completely tamed. It does not willingly remain near thedwellings of man, but prefers to abide apart, only resorting to the homewhen in need of food. It is very intolerant of the other barnyardcreatures, and often becomes possessed of a kind of mania for slayingtheir young, not for food but from pure spirit of mischief. Intellectually speaking, the peacocks are much below the cocks andhens; although they flock together, their sympathies do not seemquick; their cries and calls do not number a fifth part of those whichwe hear from our chickens, and their notes are prevailingly verydiscordant. Their cry of defiance, answering to the crow of the cock, is one of the rudest and least sympathetic sounds which is heard amongthe birds. Its only merit is that it can be heard very far. It isreadily audible at the distance of a mile when it breaks the stillnessof a summer night. At present the bird seems out of favor. At best itis a beautiful but annoying ornament to pleasure-grounds. It islikely, indeed, that it may in time become limited to its nativewildernesses and to zoölogical gardens. From Africa we have derived one rather uncommon tenant of our barnyardsand fields, the guinea-hen. This creature, though of convenient size, hardy, and commendable from the number of eggs it lays, has never won alarge place in the esteem of our rural people, and is now not much kept, except in some parts of the Southern States of this country. Thedifficulty with this creature, as with the peacock, is that it is nottruly domesticated; though it will not betake itself altogether tothe woods, it prefers to maintain a half-wild habit. It will not, ifit can possibly avoid it, lay its eggs in any place where they arelikely to be found by man. Moreover, their rude and little-modulatedcries are in the summer season almost incessant, and the din which aconsiderable flock can produce is exceedingly vexatious. They thus donot fit the needs or comfort of man to the degree which is likely togive them a permanent place among his associates. [Illustration: The Domesticated Turkey] The last considerable addition to our barnyards has come to us in theform of the turkey. This species has the peculiar distinction ofbeing the only animal form of definite use to man over a wide fieldwhich has been contributed from the life of the New World. Althoughthe creature was much hunted by our North American Indians, and isof a type which lends itself to domestication, it does not appear tohave become a companion of man until it was taken from the WestIndia Islands to Europe shortly after the discovery of this country. Thence the domesticated form appears to have been returned to thiscountry, where it has been a favorite in a measure unknown in theOld World. Ornithologists deem the Cuban turkey, whence our tameform came, to be specifically distinct from those which are found onthe mainland of this continent. Although these kinds aredistinguishable by plumage, they are probably only varieties of acommon species. This is indicated by the fact that our tame flocksreadily intermingle with their wild kindred. The ease with which the turkey becomes domesticated is remarkable. Inthis regard the creature may be compared to our cocks and hens. In bothcases the tamableness is doubtless to be explained by the fact that theprimitive forms dwelt in permanent association, the movements of whichwere in a way controlled by the adult males, and by the fact that theforms had abandoned the use of wings for wide-ranging flight. Thechange which has been brought about in the turkeys with their adoptioninto the human association has been slight. No distinct varieties ofbreeds have been originated, though here and there the observer maynote slight local variations in the coloration of the plumage, whichare probably due to varying admixtures with the wild forms of ourforests. Thus in Kentucky and other parts of the South, where theopportunities for the intermingling of blood of the tame and wild formsare frequent, the domesticated creatures often resemble so nearly thewilderness forms that even the wary hunter may make mistakes as towhether the bird he sights be fair game or not. Unless carefullywatched, a drove of these creatures on the border of the wilderness isapt gradually to return to the wild state, the three or four centuriesof life about the home of man not having been sufficient to do awaywith their ancient love of freedom. Among the English folk of North America the turkeys found a large placeas an element of the food-supply. It has become curiously associatedwith the Puritan festival of Thanksgiving, an institution which hasspread throughout the United States and which has in a way taken theplace of the harvest-home festivities of the Old World and bygone ages. It is probable that the relation of this bird to our nationalfestivities has done much to keep it in use in this country. It is awell-recognized fact that it is costly to keep and that the eggs are notdesirable for culinary use. The species requires a wide range. It doesnot do well in the confined conditions in which cocks and hens canreadily be maintained. It therefore is not likely to be kept in anyregion where the agriculture is of a high grade. It is best suited tofarms where there are considerable areas of half-wild pastures. Although the turkey is a truly gregarious form, its mental endowmentsare of a lower grade than those of most social birds. Their calls arefew in number and have little of that conversational quality which wenote in those of our ordinary barnyard fowls. Although the males contestthe field with each other by personal combats, they are not veryvaliant, the creatures trusting for favor with the females rather to theparade of their plumage and the pomp of their carriage than to the wagerof battle. In the matter of show they are, however, very effective, being surpassed only by the peacock in the splendor of their attire. Intheir domesticated state they lose much of the beauty which they have inthe wilderness, as they do their pristine dimensions. Those who havehunted our wild species are likely to remember scenes where in someforest glade they have beheld a gobbler displaying his graces to anadmiring harem. As he struts about with his tail feathers erect and hisneck arched back, now and then pausing to utter an exultant gobble, thespectacle is one of the most amusing displays of animal pride which thenaturalist has a chance to behold. [Illustration: The Largest of all Poultry--The Ostrich] Recent experiments in ostrich farming seem to indicate that we are onthe eve of introducing into our "happy family" the noblest remainingmember of that group of great birds which characterized the life ofthe later geological periods. As yet the efforts in taming ostrichesare too new for us to tell just what the effect of man's skill on thedevelopment of this creature will be. It is evident, however, that thecreature can be won from its wilderness state, at least to somethinglike the imperfect companionship with man which has been attained bythe guinea-fowls and turkeys. All we know of the variations in plumageof birds indicates that the breeder's art may bring about greatchanges in the highly decorative feathers for which this bird is to bereared. It is also probable that with the better food which domesticconditions imply, this wanderer of the desert may be brought to attaina very much greater size than it wins in the hard life of its nativeland. If the form should prove as plastic as that of our ordinarybarnyard species, we may indeed succeed in developing a varietyapproaching in dimensions the gigantic moa of New Zealand, or theępyornis of Madagascar, those magnificent creatures of the past whichpassed away just before their native lands were known to our race. Thevariations in size of the wild ostrich appear to indicate that thisinteresting result may be attainable. Next after the cocks and hens the most important birds of economicvalue have come from the water fowl. In this field there are greatopportunities for domestication, only a few of which have beenadequately used. The aquatic birds, save for the fact that they are inall cases inspired with a more or less strong migratory humor, lendthemselves to the shaping hand of man more readily than most otherforms. These creatures have the habit of association in a much moreperfect way than our ground birds. They normally dwelt in rather closeorder and in relations which are necessarily very sympathetic. Whoeverhas watched the flight of wild geese must have remarked the beautifulway in which they arrange at once for close companionship and forsafety in the violent movements which impel their heavy bodies at highspeed through the air. In the order of their flight the alignment ismore perfect than in the march of trained soldiers. Each bird keeps asnear to his neighbor as possible; but manages always to preserve theinterval which will insure against a collision of the strong andswift-moving wings, an accident which might well disable them forflight. I have repeatedly undertaken to confound their motion byfiring a rifle bullet at the head of the moving wedge. Although thesound of the projectile, if well directed, will disturb theirprocessional order, it never brings confusion. The startled birds sinkdown or rise above the plane of the air in which their comrades aremoving, but they never strike against them. [Illustration: An Eider Colony] The admirable sense of interval which the wild birds exhibit in theirflight is to be seen also when they move over the surface of thewater, where the fleet of living forms is always so arranged that eachindividual does not interfere with its neighbor. I recall with muchpleasure an occasion when, from a ship becalmed in a thick fog off thesouthern shore of Labrador, within sound of the breakers, I undertookto find something about the lay of the land and the chance ofharborage by paddling in a small boat toward the shore. I had hardlylost sight of the ship when my boat glided into an assemblage of eiderducks, where the mothers, with their fledgling young, were lazilyswimming to and fro, as if to practise the ducklings in the art ofswimming. Each brood appeared to have its own space of water, andbetween each of the chicks there was likewise a less but equally wellmeasured interval. The same features of orderly association, which Ihave just noted in the swimming and flying of these wild birds, may beseen in a somewhat degraded state in our domesticated varieties of thegroup. They all indicate in these forms a keen sense of theirneighbors and a habit of association based upon sympathetic emotions. [Illustration: Terns Aiding a Wounded Comrade] The sympathetic quality of our water fowl, at least in that part ofthe emotion which leads them to be concerned with the afflictions oftheir species, appears to be more distinct than in the case of ourordinary barnyard fowl. Geese, as is well known, will make commoncause against an intruder from whom harm to the flock may be expected. Their simultaneous din when anything occurs to arouse their enmity iscommemorated in the ancient myth concerning the aid which they gave inthe defence of the walls of Rome. There are anecdotes apparently wellattested where water fowl have borne away a wounded comrade which hadfallen before the huntsman's fowling-piece. In Smiles's "Life ofEdwards" there is an often-quoted story which appears to betrustworthy and sufficiently illustrates this point. A hunter, havingshot one of a flock of terns, which fell wounded into the water nearthe shore, waded in to seize it. Suddenly two of the terns came totheir wounded companion, seized him by either wing, and bore himtoward the open sea. When these two helpers were weary, the suffererwas lowered into the water, and, in turn, seized by two other birdswhich were fresh for the labor. Working in succession, these birdscarried their companion to a rock some distance from the shore. Whenthe hunter endeavored to approach the rock, yet others of the speciesseized the cripple and bore him far beyond reach. Although too much value must not be given to the numerous anecdotesconcerning the sagacity of water fowl, the great mass of these stories, as compared with the poverty of the anecdotes concerning thebetter-known barnyard creatures, seems to establish the fact that theirintelligence is much greater than that of the land birds. Thissuperiority can probably be attributed to the fact that their liferequires much more definite adaptation of means to ends than in thesimpler conditions which are met by the forms which dwell in the fields. The circumstances of their life are something like those of the sealsamong mammals. They have to do with the conditions of the air, the land, and the water; and as they generally undertake long migrations, therange of the things they have to accommodate themselves to is great, andthe effect of their labor is decidedly educative. [Illustration: Some Recent Additions to the Poultry Yard: Wood Duck, China Goose, Australian Swan, Canada Goose] As yet, from the great number of species of water fowl man has reallydomesticated but two characteristic groups, the species of geese and ofducks. Swans have been brought to a state where they tolerate thepresence of man, though they rarely establish any really intimaterelations with him. Some other species, as, for instance, the grebe, have been taught to dwell about the homes of man, accepting food fromhis hands. It is likely that more of these water fowl would have comeinto human associations were it not for the fact that they are naturallymigratory, and when, after a season of domestication, they join apassing flock, they never return to the place where they have been kept. [Illustration: Swans] The swan, like the peacock, has been bred for ornament rather than foruse. In fact, the bird has no other merit than its exceeding grace. We cannot believe that much pains was ever taken with this creature tobreak up the migratory instincts which are common in the wild kindredspecies. We have to suppose that the bird in its pristine form waswithout the impulse to undertake distant journeys in the winterseason, or that it abandoned ancient habits with no great difficulty. We obtain some light on this point by noting the fact that among themigratory species it not infrequently happens that, while the greaternumber of individuals undertake the annual journey, certain of themwill remain on the ground where they were born. Those which remainwould be more likely to mate with those which were like-minded thanwith others that journeyed afar. In this way small local breeds mightwell be originated which would differ from their migratory kindred notonly in the measure of the wandering instincts, but in the capacityfor flight which their kindred preserve. There is some reason tobelieve that this process of selection naturally and somewhatfrequently takes place. In certain cases it may lay the foundation ofnew species, or at least of distinct varieties; more commonly, however, the individuals which have abandoned the migratory life arelikely to perish from the severity of climate or the other unfavorableconditions that their mates avoid by their wanderings. [Illustration: The Original Wild Rock Dove (_Columba livia_) and Some of its Domestic Descendants] Although many of the free-flying birds of the land are or have been keptcaptive because of the pleasure which men have found from their songs, their grace, or their quaint ways, only one of these has really beengained to domestication. In the pigeon, man has made what is on manyaccounts the most remarkable of all his conquests over the wild natureabout him. While the breeder's art has led many forms, some of them onseveral divergent lines, far away from their primitive estate, in noother field has it accomplished such surprising results as with thedoves. The original wild form of this group is a native of Europe andAsia, where the species _Columba livia_, or rock pigeon, is stillcommon, and whence it may be readily won anew to domestication. It isa small, plain-colored, rather invariable and inconspicuous bird aboutthe size of our American dove. In its wild state it dwells in smallflocks, nesting by preference in the crannies of the cliffs, andexhibiting no striking qualities which make it seem a desirable subjectfor domestication. We note, however, that even in this primitivecondition the creature has certain physical and mental qualitieswhich have been the basis of its adoption by man as well as of thewide changes which it has undergone at his hands. It is a characteristic of all the doves that their young are born in avery immature state, and for some time after they come from the egg theyhave to be supplied with food which has been partly digested in the cropor upper part of the stomach of the parent. For the proper rearing ofthe brood there is required the assiduous care of both parents. Therefore quite naturally we find among these birds that the pairinghabit is well developed, and as they rear several broods each season, that the mating is for life. Although there are numbers of birds invarious orders which are accustomed to the monogamic habit, it happensthat the pigeon is the only animal which man has ever won to truedomestication in which the sexes can be thus permanently united. In thedovecote, however many birds it may contain, the breeder can be alwayssure as to the parentage of the young which he is rearing. This affordsan admirable basis for the practice of his art, which is still furtherfavored by the fact that pigeons reproduce rapidly and the progeny areready to mate in a few months after they come into the world. Thus thespecies affords really ideal conditions for that process of selection onwhich the improvement of all domesticated animals intimately depends. [Illustration: Turtle Doves] Selective breeding of pigeons began in India, as the records seem toshow, more than two thousand years ago. Though other animals have beenbrought to domestication at much earlier times, this appears to havebeen the first of them to be subjected to deliberate efforts on the partof their masters, which were intended to bring about in a methodical waycertain changes in their forms and habits. The most curious part of thisgreat endeavor which has been applied to breeding pigeons is found inthe fact that the ends sought have no utility, but afford satisfactionfrom the point of view of pure diversion or the gratification of taste. We are well accustomed to the action of such motives upon our floweringplants of the garden, but the pigeon is the only animal where fancy haslabored for thousands of years for its gratification. The breeders ofpigeons from remote antiquity to the present day appear to have had nodefinite purpose in all their pains. They have taken the chancevariations in form and habit and endeavored to extend these sports ofnature by a careful system of mating those in which the singularfeatures were most evident. Thus the fan-tail breed has been developeduntil the creatures display their unornamental tail feathers with allthe dignity with which a peacock shows his marvellous decorations. Thepouters have in some unaccountable way learned to take air into theircrop; and the habit has been developed by selection until the birddestroys all trace of his original shapeliness, though he seems to takepride in his diseased appearance. The tumbler, probably derived fromsome ancestor afflicted with a disease of an epileptic character, manages to go through his convulsions in the air without seriousconsequences and apparently with some pleasure to himself. There areover one hundred less conspicuous varieties, of which only one deservesnotice, and this for the reason that it has some possible utility toman and is now much attended to. This is known as the carrier pigeon. [Illustration: The Giant Crowned Pigeon of India] In early time, before the invention of the railway and telegraph, someingenious breeder of pigeons, observing the constant way in which thesecreatures returned to the place where they were bred, invented the planof using them to convey information. This service was found convenientnot only for ordinary correspondence, but was exceedingly valuable wherea place was beleaguered by an enemy. In such cases carrier pigeons couldoften be used to convey information across the otherwise impassablelines. Even in modern times, as, for instance, during the last siege ofParis, these swift and sure flying birds proved of great use in keepingup communications between the people of the invested town and the Frencharmies in the field. Letters in cipher, sometimes photographed downuntil the characters were microscopically fine, were made into packagesof small weight in order not to impede the flight of the bird, carefullyaffixed to its body, and thus sent away. Very generally these curiousshipments came to the hands of those for whom they were destined. Thebirds can be trusted to fly at night; they retain for a long time thememory of their home, and spare no pains to return to it. The homing power of the carrier pigeon appears to be a specialdevelopment of a natural capacity, as is also its swiftness andendurance in flight. Our other breeds and the wild species whence theyhave all come are not disposed to undertake long journeys; they rarely, indeed, wander far from their abiding places. Our experience with thecarriers shows how readily the creatures may be educated to performfeats which they were not accustomed to do in their wild state. Something of the same elasticity of constitution may be observed in thebodies of our pigeons as they have been affected by selection. Not onlyhas the plumage been greatly altered by the breeder's art and inpursuance of his plans, but the form and proportions of the bones havecoincidently and unintentionally been greatly changed. So considerableare these alterations that if these creatures were submitted fordissection to a naturalist who knew nothing of the history of the bird, he would have no hesitation in classing them as belonging not only indifferent species, but as members of diverse genera. It must be regarded as unfortunate that the experiments which have beenmade on pigeons have been limited to their features of form, color, andslight peculiarities in their habits. If the breeders had sought tomodify the intellectual parts with anything like the insistence whichthey have given to the development of these bodily peculiarities, wemight now have a most valuable store of knowledge as to the limitationsof animal minds. The facts gained in the breeding of the carriers showclearly that certain of the instincts of these birds can be readilymodified. There is every reason to suppose that their mental capacitiesin other directions have something of the same pliability. [Illustration: The English Pheasant] Although the pigeon is the only free-flying form which has been won tointimate relations with man, there are numerous other species of thesevolant creatures which have been reduced to partial domestication, though they cannot be trusted to abide with us without being more orless completely caged. Experience has shown that by far the greater partof the arboreal birds may be kept and will breed in captivity. From thehost of these feathered creatures men have from time to time selectedspecies which grace their habitations by their beauty, their song, or bythe sympathetic relations which they form with their captors. Oursuccesses in these efforts toward domestication of these birds have beenmost eminent with those varieties which in their wilderness state have awell-developed social life, which abide in families or flocks, and havethe pairing habit well affirmed. The reason for this has been alreadyindicated. It is due to the sympathetic motive which is developed insuch communal life, and is manifested in the friendly relations witheach other which the creatures maintain. A good instance of this is tobe found in the crows and their kindred, a group of extremely sociablecreatures, which are endlessly engaged in chattering communications witheach other. All these forms are highly domesticable, and if for anyreason they had proved permanently attractive to men they woulddoubtless have been brought into the state of willing captives. Although some of the free-flying or tree birds have been kept for theirbeauty alone, the greater part of them have commended themselves to manbecause of their voices. It is hardly necessary to tell the reader thatthe birds, of all animals, are most provided with means of expressionthrough the voice. There is hardly a species which has not a greaterrange of notes or calls than the most vocal of our wild mammals, andmany varieties are impelled to tuneful expression in a measure which noother creature, not even man, exhibits. In most cases these utterancesare pleasing to the human ear, for they have the quality which we termmusical. Therefore it is not surprising that the most of our captivebirds have been chosen for their song. It seems clear that the song of birds, like their calls--the two shadeindefinitely into each other--expresses a sympathetic emotionalconsciousness of the actions going on about them, particularly of thelife of their kind. In general these utterances are directed towardtheir kindred of their own species. In many cases, however, as among theimitative birds, the sounds which they utter indicate a curiously keeninterest in the actions of their masters or other human affairs. Themocking-birds and some other species will, with great assiduity, endeavor to copy any sound which they happen to hear. I well rememberwatching a mocking-bird which was listening with rapt attention to thenoise produced by a man sharpening a saw with a file. The poor birdwould hearken with great attention until he thought he had caught thenote, and then endeavor to reproduce it. As may be imagined, the measureof his success was small. He was fully conscious of his failure, andwould beat himself about the cage in evident chagrin, returning againand again to try the hopeless task. Wherever the vocal organs of caged birds permit them to imitate humanspeech they are apt to devote a large part of their labor to this task, paying little attention to other less meaningful sounds. It appears tome that they perceive in a way the sympathetic character of language andtherefore take a peculiar pleasure in copying it. It is hardly to bebelieved that they ever get a sense of the connotative value of words, but it is not to be doubted that they sometimes attain to a certainappreciation of the denotation of simpler phrases. In this task they donot exhibit as much sagacity as the dog, a creature which learns tounderstand the purport of rather complicated sentences. Nevertheless, their capacity for imitating speech is a fascinating peculiarity, onewhich has greatly endeared them to bird fanciers. Those who have observed the talking birds have doubtless noted thefact that their capacity for remembering and uttering words variesgreatly. I am inclined to think that in the same species someindividuals can do such tasks several times as easily as others. Ifthese speaking forms could be brought to breed in captivity, andsomething like the selective care were given to their development thathas been devoted to the varieties of pigeons, we might well expect toattain very remarkable results. If anywhere in the animal world thereis a chance to open communication by means of speech with the lowercreatures, it should be here. [Illustration: The Falconer's Favorite--Peregrine Falcon] At one time among our ancestors it was accustomed to make much use ofthe larger hawks in hunting. Curiously enough this amusement, morerefined and elaborated than any other form of the chase, has graduallyfallen into disuse among Europeans. So far as I have been able to learn, the only region in which it is well preserved is in northern Africa, acountry in which the custom was probably introduced from Spain duringthe occupancy of that peninsula by the Moors. From the literature ofthis art of hawking, even after we allow much for the exaggeration ofunobservant men, it seems certain that the training of these fiercebirds was carried to a point of singular perfection. The creatureslearned to do their duty in a very skilful way, and they readilyacquired habits of obedience, under circumstances of excitement, moreperfect than those which we succeed in instilling in any animal but thedog. When we consider the natural qualities of the hawk, and note thatwhen well trained he flew at only the designated game, and came back tothe master when a bit of hide or other lure was thrown into the air as asignal, we may fairly believe that the creature displayed anextraordinary fitness for receiving instruction. The facts are the moreremarkable because these hawks were not bred in cages, but were takenfrom the wild nests; so that there was none of that gradual accumulationof inheritances under the conditions of selection which have broughtabout the obedience of our really domesticated animals. The remarkable way in which the art of hawking has disappeared from ourcivilization deserves more than a passing notice, though it appears tobe inexplicable. It is evident that it was a tolerably ingrained habit, at least among the English-speaking people, for it has left a very deepimpress upon the language. There are far more phrases derived from thecustom than can be traced to any other of the sportsman's arts. At leastone of these collocations of words which has escaped from the minds ofgrown people still holds a place among the boys of this country. Whentwo lads are fighting we often hear the bystanders say, by the way ofencouragement to one of the contestants, "Give him jesse. " The use ofthis curious phrase prevails in all parts of the United States, butafter much inquiry I have failed to find a trace of it preserved inEngland. There seems to be little doubt that these words are due to acustom of beating a hawk which failed to do its duty with the thongs orjesses by which it was attached to the wrist of the falconer. Givinganother jesse thus came to be equivalent to giving a person a strapping. [Illustration: The Bandit's Brood] Whatever may have been the reason for abandoning this beautiful and in away noble sport, its disuse must be deemed most unfortunate by all thestudents of animal intelligence, for it has deprived us of preciousopportunities in the way of observations on the mental peculiaritieswhich exist in a most interesting group of birds. In these days, whenthere is a fancy for reviving the customs of our forefathers, it mightbe well for some persons of leisure to give their attention to restoringthe arts of falconry. Enough of the practice and of the traditions isleft to make it an easy task to reinstitute all the important parts ofthe custom. Moreover, those who essayed the matter would have access toa much greater range of rapacious birds than our forefathers, who had tocontent themselves with the limited number of wild species which inhabitthe continent of Europe. Especially on our Western plains, wheregame-birds abound and the country lies wide open, sportsmen would findan admirable field in which to follow the bird they flew. Not only wouldthe restoration of hawking give us a sport much more skilful and refinedthan the fox chase, but it would reintroduce the cultivation of the onlycreature which, having once been brought to the service of man, hasbeen permitted to return to its ancestral wild life. The most striking and by far the most interesting quality exhibited byour birds is found in their sympathetic motive. In this spiritualquality, so far as it relates to their own kind, the featheredcreatures are clearly in advance of all other species, including evenman. A single fact, one of great generality, will serve to make thisstatement clear. Among the birds we find the only cases of truemarriage which are known in the animal kingdom. In the greater numberof the species the union is for a season, but among many it is forlife. In the case of certain varieties of paroquets, the union is soindissoluble that, according to common report, a report which seemsmuch better verified than the most of those concerning the habits ofanimals, neither member of the pair will survive the death of theother. Man, with all his striving towards a better social state, has, as a whole, not yet attained to the enduring affection for the matewhich is evinced by the greater part of the birds. In this same connection, we may note that the ęsthetic appreciationamong the birds appears to have attained a far higher level than it haswon in any other creatures. There can be little doubt that theexquisitely beautiful plumage, the unparalleled shapeliness of form andgrace of carriage, as well as the melodies which are uttered by so manyspecies, all owe their development to a process of sexual selectionwhich has led the discerning females to prefer the more ornamental ofthe males who sought them as partners. If any one will examine theexquisite shapes and gradations of color which are exhibited in the tailof the peacock, or of the lyre-bird, or even the coloration of thegame-cock, he may perhaps imagine how prodigious must be thedevelopment of the ęsthetic sense in these species, in order that it maytake account of every little betterment which leads towards more perfectbeauty. As it will take the generations of ęsthetes many generationsbefore they are able to "live up to" the level of their culture which isattained by the peacock's tail, it is not unreasonable for us to holdthat in the appreciation of simple beauty in form and in color, thebirds are far ahead of ourselves. It must not be supposed that ouręsthetic culture is to be reckoned below that of birds, though in ourcase the work embodies the delineation of ideas, while in the birds itis a matter of pure ornament. Nevertheless, taking the evidence whichshows the way in which these creatures appreciate beauty in the threerealms of form, color, and sound, it seems to me clear that while theirintellectual life is low, their purely emotional experiences areprobably more vivid than those of ordinary men. As the joy of life is, in the main, even in ourselves the result ofemotional experiences, we may fairly reckon, even on _a priori_ ground, that the birds win a measure of happiness, though it be that of anunconscious kind, which is granted to no other living beings. Psychologically described, they might well be termed the group builtfor joy. Their bodies are, on the whole, the best constructed of allanimals, except the insects. They suffer little from disease. We allsee that their intercourse with each other is freer and merrier thanthat of other creatures. The wide range of their notes shows that inmost forms they appreciate every little difference in thepleasure-giving changes of the day or the weather. They rejoice in thecoming of each morning; they are sorrowful with the advent of eachevening. They echo the distress of their kind in a readier way thanany other forms. He is indeed a poor naturalist who overlooks thistrait; for however deeply he may have delved, he has not won the jewelunless he appreciates this element of an unending joy which thebird-life continually offers him. From that life we may well believethat man is hereafter to derive some great and fruitful lessons. USEFUL INSECTS Relations of Man to Insect World. --But Few Species Useful to Man. --Little Trace of Domestication. --Honey-bees: their Origin; Reasons for no Selective Work; Habits of the Species. --Silkworms: Singular Importance to Man; Intelligence of Species. --Cochineal Insect. --Spanish Flies. --Future of Man relative to Useful Insects. Although the relations of man to the insect world are prevailingly thoseof hostility, there are a few of these multitudinous creatures whichhave been more or less completely adopted into his great society. Although not more than half a dozen out of the million or more speciesin this subkingdom have thus been brought to the uses of civilization, the forms are interesting not only for what they give, but for thepromise of further contributions when this great problem of winning helpfrom the insect world receives adequate consideration. As a whole, the insects are not well fitted to serve the needs of man. Owing to certain peculiarities in their organic laws they, fortunatelyfor ourselves, are very limited in size. Although some of them affordsavory food and are occasionally eaten by savages, and even by civilizedfolk when pressed by hunger owing to the famines which the invasions ofthese animals occasionally produce, they can never be of any value assources of provisions, except through the stores which they accumulatein the manner of the bees. All that we have won, or are likely to win, from this realm is from the filaments which the creatures spin, the waxor honey which they accumulate, the coloring or other matters whichtheir bodies afford, or the help which they may give us in our strugglewith invading species of their class. Probably the first insect to be brought into friendly relations with manwas the honey-bee. This creature, like the most of our domesticatedanimals, is a native of the great continent of the Old World, though ithas now been conveyed to all the flowery lands of the world where theseason is long enough for it to win its harvest. In its wild as well asin its tame state the honey-bee dwells in one of the most perfect andhighly elaborated of insect societies. It is a member of the group ofmembranous-winged insects known to naturalists as _Hymenoptera_, anorder which includes all the elaborate societies of the class except thecolonies of white ants. It is characteristic of all these colonialinsects that, from the experience of ages, they have learned the greatprinciples of the division of labor and of profit sharing towards whichmankind are now clumsily stumbling; the great work which their societiesare able to do is accomplished by a complete specialization of functionand a perfect share in the commonwealth. So far has this elaborationgone, that in the bees the work of reproducing the kind is allotted toforms which do no labor; all the work of the hive being effected byindividuals which are sterile, and whose sole function it is to toilunendingly for the profit of the great household. While the greater part of the kindred of the bees either construct thenests for their young in the manner of our wasps or hornets, buildingthem entirely in the open air, or excavate underground chambers in thefashion of our bumble-bees, our domesticated form at some time in theremote past adopted the plan of choosing for its dwelling-place somechamber in the rocks, or cavity in a hollow tree which could be shapedto the needs of a habitation. Owing to the size of these cavities, theywere enabled to form societies composed of many thousands ofindividuals; while the species which adopted nests, in other conditions, were much more limited as regards their numbers. Thus the bumble-bee, which abides underground, dwells in very small communities, probably forthe reason that the conditions of the soil it inhabits make it difficultto excavate and maintain large rooms. It is this habit of resorting tohollow spaces, as well as the instinct to store up honey in wax cases, which has made the common bee valuable to man. [Illustration: Feeding Silkworms with Mulberry Leaves in Japan] At best the opportunities which the wilderness affords, in the way offit dwelling-places for the swarm which goes forth from a hive, aremuch less than can readily be provided by art. In almost all cases thewild bees have to expend a great deal of labor in searching for a fitresidence; and after such is found it requires a great deal of toil andexpenditure of the costly wax in order to shape the cavity so that itmay comfortably accommodate the multitude, and be reasonably safe fromthe attacks of other insects. Thus it has come about that the bee has, in a way, welcomed the interference of man with his ancestralconditions; and, though the species exists in the wildernesses of itsnative land, the domesticated varieties have so far taken up with manthat in other countries they do not wander far from the limits ofcivilization. Now and then an uncared-for swarm which cannot findaccommodations about the parent hive will betake itself to thewilderness; though it generally continues to seek sustenance fromthe abundant flowers of the tilled fields where it finds species, suchas clover and buckwheat, from which it has been long accustomed to winthe harvest of pollen and honey. In North America the honey-bees, which were brought by the earlysettlers, and which had been kept on the frontier by the pioneers of ourcivilization, have always extended, in wild swarms, a little distanceinto the wilderness. But, at most, they appear to have wandered only fora few miles beyond the homestead, going no further away than wouldpermit their use of the cultivated plants. The aborigines early learnedto regard the insect as the _avant courier_ of European men. When theycame upon an individual of the species they always knew that some whiteman's dwelling stood nearby. Those who are familiar with the solitudesof our Appalachian forests must often have remarked, in the stillness ofa summer day, the hum of a swarm from some forest or domestic hive inits search for a dwelling-place. Those who have followed up themovements of these migrating colonies have had a chance to perceive howlong is the search before they find a fit abiding place. Doubtless byfar the greater part of these searchers for a home fail of their quest, and the wandering swarms perish without finding a suitable shelter. In certain kinds of woods, as, for instance, those occupied by pinetrees or other species which do not develop spacious hollows in theirtrunks, and where there are no crannied rocks--all the swarms which seekhabitations there are foredoomed to destruction. If by chance thecolonies wander too far, they generally find the wilderness so illprovided with plants which may furnish them with the sources of wax, honey, or other necessaries, that they cannot maintain their life. Thusit is that the bee, though domiciled with us rather than domesticated, has become united in its fortunes with civilization. In this positionthey have shown a remarkable adaptation to extremely varied conditions. They can withstand any climate which permits the development of thevegetation to which they need have access, provided the growing seasoncontinues long enough to accumulate their store. In the tropical landsthey harvest so little honey that they are not profitable to man, and inthe high north they need all their summer's accumulation to maintainthem through the long winter. Thus, though they may range almost as faras man through the gamut of climates, they are profitable to theirmasters only in the middle latitudes. They commonly do not do well closeto the sea, and cannot be kept on inconsiderable islands for the reasonthat they are, in their wanderings, likely to be lost in the waters. The bee, like the other social insects, evinces a wide range ofinstincts which are intimately related to the economy of the hive; butthese motives appear to be of an unchangeable character. They show notendency to undergo the modifications which we observe to take place inour birds and mammals when they are brought under the influence of man. The only case in which they show any distinct effect from their contactwith man is found in their evident recognition of those who care forthem. They soon learn that their master is not to be feared, and, therefore, need not be resisted; but, beyond this dumb acceptance of asituation, they exhibit no trace of sympathetic recognition of ourkind. It is clear that their mental endowments, though considerable, are very much more remote from our own than are those of thevertebrated animals with which we have formed a friendly association. Moreover, the type of life of the creatures in a way excludes them fromany kind of share in human society. Each of them is, from its birth toits death, entirely devoted to the interests of its littlecommonwealth. Every impulse of their being relates to the economy oftheir hive. While we know little about instinct, we know enough of itsmanifestations to state that the real unit of this species is not theindividual insect, but the colony to which it belongs. The separateform is hardly more than a bit of machinery so arranged that it mayoperate at a distance from the engine of which it forms a part. On thisaccount it appears to be impossible for us ever to attain to any kindof sympathetic relations with these creatures. Even more important than the bees are those insects which, in theirimmature state, yield us silk. The so-called silkworms, like the bees, originated in Asia, and have long been in the care of man. Beginningtheir experiments in spinning with the wool of animals and the variousaccessible vegetable fibres, men have ever been seeking materials whichcould serve them in the weaver's art. At one time or another they havetried an exceeding variety of materials; in modern days more than ascore of insects have been experimented with in the endeavor to obtainfibres which could be turned to use. So far, however, the _Bombyxmori_--the form which, as its specific name indicates, feeds upon theleaves of the mulberry tree--is the only one which proves reallyserviceable. The advantages of this species are found in a peculiarassemblage of qualities, each of which is necessary to make it fit forthe ends it attains at the hand of man. The mulberry silkworm can readily be bred in confinement. The eggs areeasily gathered and preserved, and are so readily kept that they may besent the world about. At a given temperature they with infrequentfailures hatch; and if sufficiently fed with the fresh leaves of themulberry, will in a short time attain to as perfect a development asthough they grew, not in close rooms, but in the open conditions of thetrees. When of adult size, the grubs proceed to spin themselves in, forming a thick cocoon composed of threads of a material which, thoughas soft as paste when emitted from the body, hardens so as to form astrong and even thread. If the insect be allowed to remain for asufficient time in the cradle which it has spun for its second birth, the body within the chrysalis case will proceed in a manner todissolve; and in the milky fluid thus produced, where only faint tracesof its former state remain, the beautiful image or perfect form willarise. In the economic use of the creature, however, except as far as asupply of eggs may be desired, it is necessary to prevent thecompletion of its development; for in escaping from the chrysalis case, the butterfly cuts many of the delicate threads, so that the silk ismade unserviceable. It is necessary to wind it off before the insectescapes. In this part of the work we notice the most perfect adaptationof the creature to the needs of man. While the silk threads from thecocoons of other species which might prove of value cannot be easilyreeled off, those of the silkworm, when placed in hot water, readilyseparate, and can be gathered in a condition for spinning. Thus, whilesome success has been attained by carding the cocoons of other species, thereby making a fibre which has a certain utility, the silkworm aloneyields material fitted for delicate fabrics. [Illustration: The Farmer's Apiary] At the present time in Europe, Asia, and America there are probably notfar from ten million people who depend in large measure upon theproduct of the silkworm for their livelihood. Although the product oftheir industry and that of the insects combined is not nearly asindispensable to man as those which are won from the hair of animals orthe fibres of plants--for silk is a luxury rather than a necessity--thevalue of the work done by these humble creatures is greater than thateffected by the largest of our domesticated animals, the elephant. Ifthe philanthropic economist were forced to choose which of thesecreatures should pass from the earth, he would have to accept the lossof the greater and far nobler animal. So far as regards their intelligence, the silkworms are much below thelevel of the bees. Though they dwell in an aggregate way they havescarcely a semblance of social order, and are without the wide range ofpeculiar instincts which we invariably find among the commonwealthanimals. The order of _Lepidoptera_, in which these creatures belong, though the most beautiful, appears to be from an intellectual point ofview the least advanced of our insects. Their instincts are all on a lowplane; they have no kind of mutual labor, and however much advance wemay make by selection in developing their bodies, there is no reason toexpect that we shall affect their intelligences. The cochineal insect, a species which has the habit of feeding uponthe cactus, is used for a dye stuff, for which service the brightlycolored body is appropriated. Although the creature is deliberatelyplanted where it is to feed, and thus is in a way submitted toculture, it cannot fairly be said to have been entered in thedomesticated circle of man. In a similar way the so-called Spanishfly--which really belongs among the beetles--whose ground-up bodiesare used for producing blisters, is merely appropriated to our usewithout any process of subjugation. The fact remains that, so far asour dealings with the insect world have gone, we have really won buttwo of the million or more of forms to captivity; and our relationswith these have nothing of the humanized nature which marks ourintercourse with truly domesticated creatures. Small as are the lessons which we may read from our experience with thehoney-bee and the silkworm, they appear clearly to indicate that, whilewe may expect to do little with the intelligences of insects, we mayfairly reckon on a great field for accomplishment in the way of changesin their bodily constitution. In the case of the bees the facts show usthat in particular conditions of climate or other surroundings a certainamount of variation takes place, and by proper selection either ofqueens or swarms it may be possible considerably to extend the value ofthese animals. The task is beset with difficulties for the reason that, while in ordinary selective breeding we deal with individuals, we have, as before remarked, in this species to regard the hive or colony as theunit and to make our selection with reference to the qualities of thatcolony as a whole. Nevertheless, with the constant advances in the skillof our economic selectionists, there is reason to expect that our beesmay be progressively improved. On the other hand, there is the chancethat the progress of chemical discovery may enable us at any time tomanufacture honey in the artificial way and of a qualityindistinguishable from that produced by domesticated bees; in which casethese captives, at best troublesome, though most interesting, willprobably disappear from the human association. With the silkworms, variations can be more readily brought about; for, as is the case with other animals, the individuals can be paired. Theefforts at selection already made show that valuable characters can bethus accumulated, though not with the success which attends theefforts of a like nature made in the case of our domesticated mammalsand birds. In common with other animals--indeed, we may say, with allorganic life--the silkworms vary perceptibly in different parts of theworld to which they may be taken. Thus, when reared in California itis said that this insect develops more strength than it exhibits inEurope; and the eggs which it lays there produce stronger insects, which in turn yield larger cocoons than the individuals born in Italyor France. With such a basis for the selective art as the variationsof this insect afford, there seems no reason why it should not afforda good field for the work of the breeder's art. THE RIGHTS OF ANIMALS Recent Understanding as to the Rights of Animals; Nature of these Rights; their Origin in Sympathy. --Early State of Sympathetic Emotions. --Place of Statutes concerning Animal Rights. --Present and Future of Animal Rights. --Question of Vivisection. --Rights of Domesticated Animals to Proper Care; to Enjoyment. --Ends of the Breeder's Art. --Moral Position of the Hunter. --Probable Development of the Protecting Motive as applied to Animals. It is well to note the fact that, in considering the rights of thecreatures below the level of man, we are dealing with a question whichdoes not seem to have entered into the minds of the ancients. Such oldphrases as "the merciful man is merciful to his beast" indicate thatcruelty to the domesticated creatures was, in a way, reprobated by theancients; but not until well on in the present century do we find anyindication that reason had come to the help of pity in an effort toframe rules having the weight of law and the support of sanctions, either those of public opinion or the more direct penalties of thecourts, to limit the conduct of men towards the lower animals. The greattide of mercy and justice which marks our modern civilization had firstto break down the grievous and strongly founded evils of human slavery. Having effected that great work, the sympathetic motives are moving onto a similar conflict with the moral ills which arise from an impropertreatment of those slaves of a lower estate, the domesticated animals. It is impossible to see our position in relation to the matter of therights of animals without looking somewhat carefully into theintellectual and moral steps which have at length brought us to theconsideration of the question. First let us note that while the rightsof their fellows have been impressed on men by the precepts ofreligions, particularly by those of Christianity, the rules of conductwhich guide us in our contacts with beings below the level of ourspecies have never been determined by the canons of our faith, for thereason that they are the product of very modern conditions; they are thethought of our own time. New as are these tenets, however, they mayfairly be received as but the last though not the final expression ofthat most interesting of all natural series--the succession in thedevelopment of sympathy which, step by step in the progress of organiclife, has led from the original dull insensitiveness of the loweranimals upwards to the outgoing spirit of man. In the lower stages of animal life we find no traces of appreciation ofthe neighbor except those which necessarily relate to the selection andcapture of food and perhaps to the selection of mates. Further on in theprocess of development we note the love of offspring, and, as aconsequence of that love, the growth of the family sense, which rarelyis maintained beyond the time when the young can shift for themselves. Among the species of the higher groups--certain insects, the greaterpart of the birds, and the nobler of the mammals--the instinct of thefamily is extended until it includes the tribe, or perhaps goes yetfurther and leads to a certain kindliness to all the individuals of therace. Thus it comes about that the individuals of many species below thelevel of man will respond to the cries of their kindred though they maynever have had a chance to know them. There is in these cases asympathetic bond that binds the kind together. It is with thiscondition of the sympathies that the task of their further evolution istransferred to man. Inheriting as he does the essential motives of thelower beings through which he came to his present estate, man proceedsto deal with them in a manner which is determined by the peculiarrational power which belongs to him. In place of the blind following ofthe emotions which characterizes the sympathetic movements of the loweranimals, we find that even among the most primitive and lowly savagesrules of conduct are instituted which serve to direct the ways in whichthe individual shall act with regard to his fellows. In almost all casesthese rules are much intermingled with the religion of the people;usually they rest upon a body of advancing public opinion whichamplifies the motives and, in turn, is enlarged by their growth. As timegoes on and the folk attain the stage of records, these rules of conductbecome definite laws which at first are based on religious ordinances;but in time they are, in the latest stage of social growth, brought intothe state of ordinary statutes which, while they may have some religioussanction, are supported by the machinery of the secular government. After the first rude work of shaping the body of ancient experience intolaw was done, there remained the larger and more difficult task ofcontinuing the development of the sympathetic motives with acorresponding amplification of customs and statutes so that the steps ofadvance should be duly embodied in these rules of conduct. The stages ofthis purely human attainment have been slowly taken, the onward way hasbeen effectively won but by few peoples. A part of the slowness inadvance in the enlargement of the sympathetic motives beyond the stagewhich has been attained in the life below the human grade is to beaccounted for in the fact that no sooner are laws formed than theybecome in a way sacred. If they be cast in the religious mould theirsanctity may be such that they are almost beyond the reach ofmodification; even when they are secular the reverence for the wisdom ofthe forefathers naturally leads men to regard them as the ark of safety. Thus it has come about that the codification of the ancient sympathies, won by experience in the pre-human time and in the early life of man, has led to the institution of a barrier which makes further advance amatter of difficulty--one which, in the case of most peoples, binds themfirmly to the past, arresting their sympathetic development at a pointwhich it had attained when their laws were framed. This is, indeed, theposition of nearly all the peoples except those of our own Aryan race. When the conditions of a people are fortunately such that they maycontinue their sympathetic growth, they proceed to carry onward theprocess of sympathetic enlargement, modifying their laws to suit thegains in understanding which come with this growth. It may be noticedthat the development takes place most readily where the rules ofconduct are embodied in statute law; for this law, being the evidentresult of human action, is manifestly alterable in a way that cannot betaken when the prescriptions are supposed to rest on divine commands. Under such conditions of statute law men are freer to advance than theycan possibly be where the rules of action are in the form of reveredprecepts, such as guide the peoples who are accustomed to base theiraction on the books which they esteem as sacred. Endowed with thiselement of freedom, the peoples of our own Aryan race--and, fortunately, the most advanced of all its varieties, theEnglish-speaking part of the folk--have, by the divine impulse towardsmoral advancement, been led to make a great extension of thesympathetic motives. The first step in this direction seems to havebeen towards the mitigation of the horrors of war, which of old meantthe slavery or slaughter of the prisoners. Under the dictates of thedeveloping spirit of mercy and without written law, these brutalactions have been limited until the dogs of war are allowed to rendonly in the hour of battle. In this day the man who slays the woundedor robs the dead is esteemed an outlaw. The same beneficent motive wasnext extended towards human slaves. In this matter English people led;and to them it was almost altogether due that this evil has come nearlyto an end except among the Mohammedans, who are bound as in chains totheir sacred books and cannot win their way to progress throughstatutes. In a like manner, in the care of the poor, of prisoners fordebt, and even of malefactors, our English folk on both sides of theAtlantic have led in the ongoing towards a higher moral estate. The last great excursion of sympathy which has characterized theEnglish Aryans--one dating its beginning to this century--is thatrelating to the rights of our domesticated animals. This has comeabout, like the other movements, in a way unconsciously. Propheticspirits have seen beyond the vision of their fellows; they have giventheir messages, which have found an echo in the souls of men. Themotive originated in the recognition of the essential likeness of theminds of the lower animals to our own. But it has been greatlyreėnforced by the teachings of the naturalists to the effect that allthe life of this sphere is akin in its origin and that our subjects arenot very far away from our own ancestral line. It is characteristic of sympathetic movements that, while they areslowly prepared for, their final development is very rapid. Thus it hascome about that within one hundred years the conception of the rights ofanimals has advanced with almost startling rapidity. No other moral gainhas been made with such speed or has so rapidly become a part of theproperty of civilized man. The steps are those which have been taken inall the other great moral advances: at first there were but a few who, in the manner of the skirmishers of armies, set the standards far on inthe new ground; gradually the less ardent win their way to them, only tobe led the further by their natural guides. As the great advance isstill making, it is difficult to see how far it may attain; it is, however, easy to recognize some of the important gains and to foretellthe path if not the field of full accomplishment of the conquest. Acentury ago a man, so far as the law was concerned, owned his livingchattels as he did the inanimate things of his property. He couldtorture or slay them as whim or malice might dictate; there were nolimitations by statute, and public opinion, where it might reprobate, was too weak to influence his conduct. Now the statute books of allcountries which are moving in the path of moral advance show that publicopinion has attained the point where it begins to formulate itself instatutes which restrict the relations of men to their domesticatedanimals--or, in other words, endow them with definite rights. He may, ofcourse, force them to do him their fit service; he may at his need slaythem; but he must exercise his authority without brutality; he must, inform at least, be merciful unto his beasts. With this limitation therights of domesticated animals began to exist. At first sight it may seem unreasonable to found the rights of dumbbeasts on the embodiment of public opinion in the law, and this forthe reasons that many persons have held, that rights have anestablishment in the ultimate moral constitution of the world. It maybe granted that even before man or even life existed in the universethere were certain logical moral principles which were destined totake shape when the creatures to which they were adapted came to be;but such speculations are fanciful and do not much concern those whoare dealing with the problems of the barnyard. We may, to bring thematter nearer, say that the slave of half a century ago had a right tobe free; but this right, in all practical senses, meant only thatcertain people very much disliked to see him enthralled. So far, by successive stages, first by accumulated public opinion andthen by its embodiment in statutes, we have won a measure of protectionto subjugated animals which tends to save them from the extremer formsof cruelty. The question now is as to the advances which may be made inthe time to come. It is evident that these advances, so far as thedomesticated species are concerned, will have to be limited by the needsof man. We cannot ever expect to have the reverence of the Hindoo forthe lower animals, for the reason that his state of mind is based on thepreposterous supposition that the beast contains the spirit of a man onits way through the cycles towards perfection. We must continue toburthen, tax, and slay; but we may fairly be required to inflict nounnecessary suffering. In this process of amendment we shall undoubtedlybefore long come to the point where we shall demand that these animalsshall be lodged in a wholesome manner and so fed that they may be fitfor their tasks. We may, in a word, consider their well being so far asit is consistent with the well being of mankind, and in so doing weshall demand some personal sacrifice from the owner where such isclearly demanded to maintain the principle of the law. As in all other great sympathetic movements, the leaders of the advancein the matter of the humane treatment of animals are occasionallyunreasonable in their demands--it may well be held that the prophet hasto be unreasonable in order to attain his goal; hence it has come aboutthat the demands of these admirable people are often beyond the boundsof things that are practicable. Fire-horses, however ill, should bemade to do their duty, even if it costs them any amount of suffering;even as the artillerymen should, if the occasion calls for it, rushtheir teams, though they know that the poor beasts are to die at thegoal. In a word, the only and supreme test of our relations to thesesubjects is the well being of man considered from the higher point ofview. This principle we apply to our own kind; we are justified in likeaction in case of the brutes. In this consideration, the offence to thefeelings of man which is caused by any act of cruelty, howevernecessary, deserves its due weight. The most serious matter connected with the question of the rights ofanimals which is now under discussion relates to the use of thesecreatures in the investigative work of the naturalist, or in therepetition of the processes and results of those inquiries beforestudents. Although all judicious people are likely to welcome theexceeding reprobation with which many philanthropists visit thevivisectionists, and this for the reason that the state of mindshows a rapid advance of the sympathetic motive, they are likely toquestion the sound foundation of the objections that are raised toexperiments with animals, made for the purpose of discovering ofdisplaying the truths of nature. So far as the work of research into the phenomena of life isconcerned, there can be no question as to its importance or as to thefitness of sacrificing the lives of the lowlier creatures in any waythat may be necessary for the advancement of knowledge. In the lasthalf century there has been an improvement in the treatment andprevention of diseases so great as almost to defy adequatedescription. To take only the last of these precious gains, that inrelation to the treatment of diphtheria, the gain has been such thatalthough the process is not past its experimental stage the reductionof the mortality in hospitals where the remedy is used has loweredthe death rate from above fifty to about fifteen per cent. Of thecases. Yet this result rests upon a vast amount of experiment whichhas cost suffering and life to the lower animals; and to produce theremedy which is used, horses have to be innoculated with the disease, and thereby much pain is inflicted upon them. Weighed as against thelife of a human being, a host of the lower creatures must count asnothing. As all human advancement depends upon the dissemination ofknowledge, it is difficult to see any objection, from the point of viewof justice, to the use of the lower creatures to accomplish this end. The only real point in the matter is as to the effect of such scenes onthe minds of young people; yet they have to be accustomed to behold theprocesses of destruction of life which are everywhere going on aboutthem. The gardener maintains his work by endless slaying. Our tablesbear the products of the slaughter-houses. While the anatomist's workmay be revolting, it is only so because his tasks are done deliberatelyand for a purpose that is not yet properly appreciated. It is a curious fact that many a person who enjoys hunting or fishing, and who slays or maims with much pleasure and to no substantial profit, is horrified to see a student dissecting a living frog, guinea-pig, orcat, in order that he may learn new truths or himself behold what othershave discovered. Of the two aims, momentary pleasure or intellectualprofit, which is the nobler? In which work is the mind the most likelyto become careless as to the rights of the dumb beast? To myunderstanding, the present turn of sympathetic people againstvivisection indicates that the movement of the emotions has, as is oftenthe case, been diverted from the fittest path. So far from naturalscience tending in any way towards cruelty, it has been the very guidein the development of the modern affection for living beings. By showingsomething of the marvels of their structure and history, it hasincreased in a way no other influence has ever done the conception whichwe form as to their dignity and the wonderful nature of their history. It is in the true interest of mercy to disseminate in every way we canknowledge as to the real nature of animals, leaving this knowledge tobring forth the good fruit which it ever bears. In this connection itshould moreover be said that the naturalist, like the surgeon, instinctively seeks to make his work as little painful as may be to thesubjects of his experiments. In almost all cases, the animal is madeunconscious. Moreover, all we know of the life of the lower animalsleads us to suppose that while they suffer much as we do, their painsare of a physical sort, and unassociated to any great extent with thelarge fears and anticipations which in the case of man form soconsiderable a part of his torment when in face of death. The question of vivisection is but a part, indeed a very small part, ofthe much larger problem as to the relation of men to the lower lifewhich is about them in their fields and in the wilderness. Anapproximate census of the species now on the earth shows that the numberis between two and three million. In the presence of this host, we haveto recognize that each of the innumerable individuals in its lifetime isa record of toil and pain the history of which extends backward to thebeginnings of life. In this wonderful living world man has troddenruthlessly, for the reason that he has no sense as to the dignity of thefield. In the manner of a vandal, he has slain for profit or sport. Hehas been so effectual a destroyer that species, genera, and evenfamilies of animals have been ruthlessly swept away. The revelation ofnatural science, of the men of the knife who are so hated by somewell-meaning but misdirected people, have now and only in our daybrought us to a point where the sense of nature in its organic aspectbegins to penetrate the minds of men. The revelation is so vast in itscontents and its imports, the conceptions which rest upon it are sogreatly enlarging to the human soul, that we may be sure of the wide andswift extension of the new light. It cannot be questioned that theclearer insight will rapidly change the attitude of men toward allliving beings. We can in a way discern some of the conceptions as to therights of the other life which will be enforced on mankind. It is likely that the first step into the new field of human duty, dueto our better understanding as to our place in nature, will be in thedirection of a greater care as to our domesticated forms. While we mustcontinue to make their lives subserve our own, we may well insist thatthey should be properly housed, and have what it may be possible toafford them in the way of their primitive joys, which come from the sun, the air, and their natural food. No one who has seen a long-stabledhorse made free of a field can have failed to note the intense pleasurewhich he takes in returning to something like his natural conditions. Many a cow stable with its foul conditions inflicts more and moreenduring torments than all the vivisectionists that some misguidedphilanthropists are fighting; yet because of the novelty of thenaturalist's work these attend to the new scene and neglect the ancientabuse. Among these evils which are to be corrected we may also accountthat which arises from the unguided development of what are called fancybreeds. Thus among our horned cattle, the Jerseys have been brought to apoint where, from the iniquitous inbreeding, which is against what maybe called the morality of nature, they are fearfully subjected totuberculosis. The punishment for this insensate performance comes backupon mankind in the dissemination of consumption; but unhappily it doesnot visit the people who are responsible for the development of thisbreed. A like, though less considerable, evil is shown in the fancybreeds of dogs, pigeons, and some other petted animals, where foramusement and as an indication of his power man has raised up manydecrepit and sickly varieties, which are not likely to have a fair sharein the pleasure of life which their natural breeding insured them. The observant naturalist of the field has the sense--at least he has itif he be endowed with a little imagination--of the immense pleasurewhich life gives to most wild animals. That instinctive, and in itsfoundations utterly irrational and animal joy which men have, or shouldhave, in their day, is part of the birthright of all sentient beings. Asyet we have not recognized that this privilege of enjoyment should beconfessed. We do not hesitate to slay or maim for mere sport. It is truethat some of the ancient forms of this sport, such as bull-baiting andcock-fighting, have been condemned, but the best of men go afield withthe gun to slay for pleasure. In a measure they keep up the pretencethat they are in some way contributing to the needs of the larder, butso far as needs are concerned the pretence is mostly idle. It seems tome clear that in shaping our sympathetic relations towards animals inthe light of our present knowledge, the huntsman will soon becomeunknown in civilized life. So long as men looked upon animals in thechildish, ignorant way, viewing them as utterly commonplace things, hunting or fishing, for the reason that they rested on a foundation ofancient emotions, might well be indulged in. But to the man who knowswhat science has to teach him, and who discerns the marvels which theanimal form enfolds, the destruction of such objects, except for need'ssake, is sure to be painful. I judge this from my individual experience. In my youth I was very fond of hunting, and could even wring the necksof wounded birds without trouble of mind. A better sense of what lifemeans, a sense which is no better than that to which all educated menare soon to attain, has made such work very repulsive to me. When the knowledge of our time is so brought down among the masses ofmen that it may afford the foundations for appropriate enlargement ofthe sympathies, the result will doubtless be a great movement towardsenlargement in public opinion which credits the lower life with what weterm rights. The most important result of this movement will be thecreation of a sense of duty by this life. It is said of Mohammedansthat they hesitate to tread upon a bit of paper lest it bear the nameof God. We know now full well that every living creature in this worldbears the stamp of a Providence which has acted from all time, and thatwe, so far as our own advancement will permit, are morally bound toallow this life to go forward on the appointed way. THE PROBLEM OF DOMESTICATION The Conditions of Domestication; Effects on Society; Share of the Races of Men in the Work. --Evils of Non-Intercourse with Domesticated Animals as in Cities; Remedies. --Scientific Position of Domestication; Future of the Art. --List of Species which may Advantageously be Domesticated. --Peculiar Value of the Birds and Mammals. --Importance of Groups which tenant High Latitudes. --Plan for Wilderness Reservations; Relation to National Parks. --Project for International System of Reservations. --Nature of Organic Provinces; Harm done to them by Civilized Men. --Way in which Reservations would Serve to Maintain Types of the Life of the Earth; how they may be Founded. --Summary and Conclusions. The advance of mankind from the primitive savagery has beenaccomplished in many ways. Among the various paths of onward and upwardgoing, however, we trace three which have served greatly to secure theelevation of our estate. First of all, culture came through the use ofthe hands in the development of the simpler arts. Next, these arts ledmen to search the stores of the wilderness and of the under earth formaterials which could serve them in their advancing crafts. The thirdimportant stage in their ongoing was attained when they began tosubjugate the animals and plants of the wilds, bringing the creaturesto abide in and about the households. Although in general this was thelast great step to be taken in the beginnings of civilization, it wason many accounts the most important. Until men began to domesticate the forms of the wilderness, it wasimpossible for them to rise above the grade of savages. Their supply offood was necessarily in such a measure limited that their societies hadto remain small and they were given to much wandering to and fro overthe earth. Moreover, they had only the strength of their own hands forall the work of life. It was not until our kind began to form a societyof other species about their homes that the foundations of civilizationswere firmly established. The home, indeed, may fairly be said to be theproduct of the conditions which the process of domestication broughtabout. As distinguished from the temporary hut of primitive men, itrepresented the stability which was induced by the care of the plantsand animals which man had domiciled about him. With every step upward in the organization of society we find thatthe number and efficiency of these subjugated creatures increases. Our American aborigines in their primitive state commanded only thedog and three or four plants, yet with this scant help they hadalready won beyond the lowest savagery and were at the threshold ofbarbarism. In our more civilized societies of to-day we find theproducts of near a hundred animals and about a thousand plants aselements of commerce, and each year sees some gain in the number ofcreatures which we make tributary to our desires. So far as we can discern, the relations of primitive savages to theanimal life about them is on the whole more friendly than is that ofcultivated men. It is true that the savage looks to the creatures ofthe wilderness for the greater part of his needs. He slays them, notat all in sport, but for the profit they may afford. Moreover, in mostcases, his imagination endows these wild creatures with a spirit likehis own. He often adopts them, in his religious worship, placing histribe under the protection of one or another, as some of our ownpeople do themselves under the protection of particular saints. Theeffect of domestication when man comes to have his own separateestate in animal life is to separate men from the creatures of thewilderness. "Wild" and "tame" come to be terms having a meaning whichthe savage does not recognize, and this meaning has with the advanceof culture become intensified, until to most men the only creaturesentitled to protection are those which have been made subject to man. At first the process of domestication concerned only useful animals orplants, those which would take a part in our industries. Rapidly, however, these creatures have been adopted with the view to the ęstheticsatisfaction which they might afford. Quite half of the number ofspecies which have come under human control have been tamed mainly ifnot altogether because of the charms which they possess. If we reckonflowering plants in the category, by far the greater number of ourcaptives have been brought to us because of their beauty. The work of domestication has in the main been effected by our ownAryan race. Out of the total number of animals and plants which havebeen made captives, probably more than two-thirds have been broughtinto subjection by the European Aryans or by the folk whom they haveprofoundly affected with their civilizing motives. The disposition towin goods from the wilderness is in effect a fair test of thosequalities in a people which give them dominance: we may indeedroughly measure the qualities of diverse folk by a variety ofconquests of this kind, which they have made. The reason for thisrelation is plain. Success, whether it be of the individual or of therace, depends in large measure upon forethoughtfulness, on adisposition to study as to where profit may be had, and intelligentlyto seek accessions of strength by experiments in domestication. Eachof these winnings from the wilderness represented by our domesticatedanimals or plants has been painfully and laboriously gained. The menwho did the tasks were not creatures of the day, but foresightfulbeyond the average of mortals. In a large way the work of domestication represents one of the modesof action of that sympathetic motive which more than any other hasbeen the basis of the highest development of mankind. Ordinary men ofthe low grade are content to slay, or otherwise rudely gain what valuethey find in the wild creatures. Only the higher grades of menperceive much of the charm in the inhabitants of the wilderness, ordesire to win them to their homes. If our conquests from the wildswere limited to the grossly profitable life alone, we might say thatinterest only had determined the work of subjugation; but as soon asmen escape from their primitive state, even while in their generalmotives they are still essentially barbarians, they cultivate flowersand derive a keen pleasure from their company. They domesticate birdswhich are valuable only for the pleasures which their presence lendsto human abodes. This action clearly shows that the element ofsympathy, that love for the other life which in any way fixes theattention, has had much to do with this work of bringing other beingsinto association with our own lives. Not only is the motive which has led our race to such extensiveconquests over the wild nature in itself sympathetic, but theprocess of winning these creatures from the wilderness has servedeffectively to extend and amplify this same impulse. One of the bestfeatures of agricultural life consists in the great amount ofcare-taking which it imposes upon its followers. The ordinary farmerhas to enter into more or less sympathetic relations with half ascore of animal species and many kinds of plants. His life, indeed, is devoted to ceaseless friendly relations with these creatures whichlive or die at his will. In this task his ancient savage impulses areslowly worn away, and in their place comes the enduring kindliness ofcultivated men. When we compare the state of mind of the hunter withthat of the care-taking soil-tiller, we see the vast scope andinfluence which this work of domestication has effected in our kind. To it perhaps more than to any other cause we must attribute thecivilizable and the civilized state of mind. Although no discreet person will venture to determine the relativeweight which should be given to the influences which have made forcivilization, there can be no doubt that the care of domesticatedanimals has been one of the most potent of these agents. Not only hasthis employment served to develop the motives of care-taking thatresult in the postponement of the momentary satisfaction of indolenceor of hunger for the prospect of security or wealth to come, but ithas served to arouse and broaden the sympathies given men, thathumane spirit without which the best of our higher culture cannot beattained. If this view be correct, we may find in it a good reasonfor regretting the increasing development of cities, a reason whichis more definite than the most of those which have been urged againstthe growth of great towns. Statistics seem to indicate that peopleare as healthy, as long lived, and on the whole no more given to viceand crime in a well-ordered urban life than they are on the farms. Itis certainly easier to give them the formal education of the schoolsin the dense than in the scattered condition. There can be no doubt, however, that the practically complete separation of the most of ourcities from all educative contact with the ancient companions andhelpers of men brings about an omission of an element in culture thatmay entail serious consequences. The question arises as to what can be done to diminish the evilswhich come from the total separation of a large part of our peoplefrom the humanizing influences due to the care of animals. Howgeneral this separation is may be judged from the fact that so far asI have been able to find in the manufacturing towns of Massachusettsnot one child in thirty ever knew what it is to care for anycreature, save those of its kind. And even in a well-conditionedplace like Cambridge, the proportion of those who have any educativecontact with animals probably does not exceed one in fifteen. I donot reckon the mere chance playing with a dog or cat as serving theneed; the real service is when the person has a sense ofresponsibility for the life of the animal. To bring about thisrelation in the ordinary conditions of a town is usually impossible. Something can, however, be accomplished by various expedients. In the lowest state of townspeople it is out of the question to givethe children any pets whatever. Even caged birds cannot or should notbe accommodated in the cheaper grade of lodging-houses. Wherever theanimals are in separate houses it is often possible for children tohave some contact with sympathetic animal life. In these conditions, our cocks and hens are the best creatures to rear. They are the mostattractive of all our domesticated birds; they do better than anyother forms of economic value in narrow conditions, and, what is ofimportance for the end in view, they contribute a share of food, sothat a boy may have from them some experience with the economicrelation of animals to men. Some persons who have observed the advancing process of destruction ofthe natural world may have been brought to consider the change as in thenecessary and inevitable order which comes with the higher developmentof man. They may welcome--indeed, some evidently do welcome--the chancethat the ancient system may utterly disappear, and all the earth becomefields and garden places tenanted only by those forms that man may havechosen to be his companions. To many people who have a keen impressionas to the importance of man in the great economy, and no clear sense ofhis relation to the natural order, this possibility is doubtlessattractive. It is not so to those who have gained a clear idea of theplace of man and the conditions of his ongoing. There is reason to expect that the modern gains in the cheapness andspeed of transportation may before long bring about a material change inthe housing of the laboring classes of our cities, so that they may beable to dwell in somewhat rural conditions. In this way we may hope tosee these people once again brought where they may receive a fullershare of the influences which have served so well to lift our race toits elevated moral station. Working to the same end is the spirit whichis leading many manufacturers to place their establishments in thecountry, where they can control the mode of life of the employees andtheir families. Against the growth of the factory towns with theirsordid conditions, we may with pleasure set these rural workshops wherethe capitalists are doing the best they can to better the mode of livingof the people who are under their charge. In this good work it may wellbe possible to include a share of contact with the soil and withdomesticated animals. In this system of isolated factories we mayperhaps hope to find the way out of the perplexities which the presentcondition of our industries have imposed on our civilization. Up to our present half-century the process of winning animals and plantsto domestication, and of improving them after they had been thus won, has been in its nature a matter of haphazard. Here and there, as menhave seen creatures which promised in captivity to afford eitherpleasure or profit, they have endeavored to convert them to use. In somecases the effort has been made with some patience and steadfastness ofpurpose. If the creature yielded quickly to the needs of a new lifewhich it was sought to impose upon him, he became a member of man'sfamily. If its wilderness motives were strong, the effort to domesticatewas soon abandoned. The greater part of these efforts to win animals andplants into alliance with our race have been made with the creatureswhich were native in the wildernesses about our ancestraldwelling-places. Occasionally from distant lands important gains havebeen made, especially among the food-giving plants; but all the animalsof any importance which have been adopted by the Aryan people wereoriginally natives of the lands in which that race has dwelt. It is a remarkable fact that no sooner does a wild animal or plantbecome intimately associated with man, than it at once departs more orless widely from its ancient type. Our conquests from the vegetableworld have to a great extent so far lost their original character thatwe can no longer determine the species from which they sprang. Botanistscannot find the wild forms which have given us the cabbage, wheat, andmost other small grains, and a host of other important varieties. So, too, the origin of our dogs is as yet unsolved and bids fair ever toremain a mystery. In addition to this changed character which we observein the forms of domesticated animals and plants alike, we note that themental characteristics of the former undergo vast alterations. Thecreatures, in a way, take the tone of civilization, and to a greatextent abandon those ancient habits of fear and rage which wereessential to their life in the wilderness. The intellectual condition ofour dogs shows us that the creatures may be progressively educated--in aword, that man may put into them something of his human quality. In thecase of the dog, the longest possessed and most familiar to ourhouseholds of all our captives, the mental change which has come, partlyby selection, from association with man has gone so far that the speciesmay be fairly said to have replaced its pristine motives with thosewhich it has derived from ourselves. In many cases it has become, so faras its ways are concerned, even more man than dog. Although the physical and mental educability of animals when broughtinto companionship with man is an old subject of remark, and one of themost interesting features which they exhibit, it was not until thedoctrine of descent by variation of species from other related formsbecame established, that we had a chance to see the vast possibilitiesof accomplishment which are presented to us by our domesticatedcreatures. It is true that the breeder's art is old and that men havefelt the subjugated animals to be almost like clay in the potter'shands, but except in a small and rather careless way with the dogs, little attention has been given to the development of the intelligenceof these captives. The success which we have obtained with this animalhas been accomplished by a selective process, but one which has beenalmost as blind in its operation as the choice which acts in the naturalworld. For thousands of years men have preferred the dogs whichmanifested a sympathy with them, and the result is a creature which, though derived from a very brutal ancestry, has in its way as intenseaffections as human beings. Now and then they have chosen deliberatelyto develop some mental peculiarity of the animal which would be ofservice in hunting, and the effect of this care is to be noted in theconsiderable variety and perfection of mental development which thesporting dogs exhibit. In the main, however, the interest of our dogfanciers has been limited to the physical features of the species;nothing like a deliberate effort to ascertain how far the development oftheir mental parts could be carried has ever been essayed. In no otherfield of human endeavor of anything like equal importance has there beenso little understanding applied to the tasks. Now that we are beginning to know something of the laws of inheritance, it is high time for us deliberately to consider what our relations tothe organic world are hereafter to be, and how we can guide ourselves inthese relations by the light of modern learning. It is in the firstplace clear that the subjugation of the earth which necessarilyaccompanies the development of civilization, inevitably tends to sweepaway a large part of the organic life which is not adopted andprotected by man. Already, with the mere beginnings of this culture, wefind that several of the large beasts and birds and a number of plantshave been destroyed. New as civilization is on this continent, it hasalready brought the moose and the buffalo to a point where they are onthe verge of extinction, and in the Old World the wild ancestors of thehorse and the bull have quite disappeared from the wildernesses. Withina few centuries the greater birds, the Dinornis and Epiornis, as well asthe interesting Dodo, have vanished from the southern isles which theyinhabited. In the century to come we can foresee that this process ofeffacement of the ancient life will go on with accelerated velocity. It seems inevitable that man should play the part of a destroyer. It ishis place to break down the ancient order determined by what we callnatural forces and in its stead to set a new accord in which the economyof the earth will be in a great measure controlled by his intelligence. Even those who most keenly sympathize with the wilderness life, are notlikely to object to the changes which are necessary to open the way forthis new dispensation. They may fairly ask, however, that hereafter thedisplacement of the ancient life shall be brought about with foresightand with the exercise of the utmost care in minimizing the sacrificeswhich we are called on to make. Naturalists may fairly ask men toremember that each of these species which we are forced to destroyrepresents the toil and pains of unimaginable ages, and that when thesecreatures are swept away they can never be recovered. Whatever newspecies may come, by processes of evolution from the life which remainsafter we have done our will with the wilderness, we shall never seeagain the forms which have passed away. It is the worst feature of the destruction which man is bringing uponthe organic species that the assault is most effective on thosevarieties which are most interesting both from an intellectual and aneconomic point of view. To take only the case of the great birds whichhave recently been swept from the earth, we see clearly that we havewith them lost precious opportunities for enlarging our understanding ofnature and have at the same time been deprived of the chance todomesticate creatures which would most likely have proved of mucheconomic value. With each of these species which disappears we lose whatmay be a precious chance of adding to the small store of animals orplants which may contribute to the well being of our kind. Theseconsiderations make it plain that it is our duty by our civilization, todo all in our power to save these species and at the same time to essaytheir domestication, for only when under the protection of man can theybe regarded as insured from destruction. The task of bringing wild creatures into our domestic fold is one ofvery varied difficulty. Many plants are easily reconciled to theconditions of our fields and gardens: they may be said to welcome thecare of man which insures them some protection from the fiercecontention with other life or with the elements to which they areexposed in their natural conditions. Only here and there is it necessaryby careful breeding to develop domesticated habits to the point wherethe forms will endure culture. Where the task is, however, to make availof some natural peculiarity which promises to be useful, but is not yetof economic value, it may require a hundred generations of carefulselection to develop and fix desirable features. We are, however, in allcases sure in these half-animate species, the plants, that they willprove perfectly obedient to our will. It is otherwise, however, withwild animals. Here we have to deal with intelligences in which the moststriking characteristic is an abiding fear of the master, and a generalindisposition to submit to any other control than that of their nativewild instincts. The measure in which this wilderness habit, bred of longcontention with enemies, prevails in animals varies greatly. Some, asfor instance the elephant, at once reconcile themselves to humanassociation, and directly on being made slaves accept the mastery oftheir captors. Others, such as the zebra, remain for a lifetimepossessed of their original savage nature. A large part of the laborwhich has been given to the work of domesticating by the breeder's artthe score of mammalian species which man has won to his use has beendevoted to this task of expelling the wilderness motives from theseforms. The cases in which he has failed to accomplish this end are thosein which the savage humor has persisted for so long a time that he hasbeen forced to abandon his effort to subdue the stock. It seems likely that at the present time we have acquired from thewilderness nearly all the animals which are capable of adoption bysuch brief and individual experiments as have won to us the specieswhich constitute our flocks and herds. Our future gains will have tobe made by far more deliberate and continuous endeavors. These tasksof the hereafter will have to be undertaken in a way which will insurea continuity of effort such as can only be attained by permanentlyorganized associations which may continue their essays if needs be forcenturies. The work should be done with two distinct ends in view:first, to determine what members of the wilderness life may be madeto contribute to the needs of man; and, second, how far it is possibleso to develop the intelligence of the lower animals in general as tomake them better fitted for companionship with our kind. Thislast-named line of experiments needs to be undertaken not only withreference to varieties now wild, but also upon our most domesticatedforms, for, as before remarked, we have not begun to explore thepossibilities of intellectual gain, even in those species which havebeen the longest associated with us. In considering a list of the creatures which might well be made thesubjects of trial with a view to their domestication, we find ourselvesat once embarrassed by the exceeding wealth of our opportunities. It isimpossible within the limits of this article to treat, even in thecatalogue way, a vast number of forms which commend themselves forexperiment. Something of the richness of the field, however, may bejudged by noting some of the more conspicuous forms, as we shall nowproceed to do. Beginning with the insects, the lowest forms in theanimal series which have proved in any sense domesticable, we note thatwide as is this realm of life it offers but few opportunities such asthe domesticator seeks. Of the million or more species in the group, only two, the honey-bee and the silkworm, have been won to man's use, and there is not another wild form which the naturalist can suggest aslikely to prove a valuable captive. The only use which we are probablyto find for these creatures is where, by some form of culture, we mayinduce predatory or parasitic species more effectively to do theirdestructive work on noxious forms of the class. So well fitted is thisgroup for purposes of self-defence that however much man may interferewith the course of nature, he is not likely to sweep any of theirmultitudinous kinds from the earth, though experience clearly shows thatby the methods above mentioned they may be greatly reduced. It is among the vertebrate forms alone that we find animals which bytheir characteristics of body or of mind are well fitted to have aneconomic or social value. There alone are the qualities of flesh or ofthe external covering such as to make them in a high measure valuable, and the instincts of a nature to fit them for association in man's work. Even among these back-boned animals we find that the lower groups--thefishes, the amphibians, and the reptiles--promise little in the way ofgains as compared with the higher groups, the birds and mammals; yeteven among these inferior creatures we find certain forms which givepromise of improvement under the care of man. Some of the fishes readilylearn to come to any one from whom they may expect food, and theyindicate in other ways that they are capable of a certain intellectualadvance. The frogs and toads readily learn to recognize a master. Several of the larger members of the first-named forms couldadvantageously be bred so as to be very useful as food. The common hoptoad of our gardens is an admirable helper in restraining the excessivedevelopment of certain slugs and insects. The tortoises and turtlescontain a number of species which are edible, and many of the formsinvite the breeder's care. It is, however, when we ascend in the type ofvertebrates to the level of the birds that we find the great array ofcreatures which are worth considering as members of our civilization. Nearly all the birds except those of prey and those which haunt theseas can easily be accustomed to man. A few of these species whichhave been reduced to captivity have not become sufficiently reconciledto the unnatural conditions to maintain their breeding habits. Even inthese cases, however, it seems likely that in spacious aviaries, atleast in climates to which they are accustomed, it will be possible tosecure the continuous reproduction of the kind, on which alldevelopment by the breeder's art depends. The ease with which most birds, except those of prey, may be reduced todomestication is due to the remarkable intensity of their sympatheticmotives. In this regard the class is much more advanced than that of themammalia to which we ourselves belong. Accustomed as they are toceaseless and active intercourse with each other by means of theirvaried calls, largely endowed with the faculty of attention, andprovided with fairly retentive memories, the birds are, on the average, nearer in the qualities of their intelligence to man than are many ofthe species in his own class. It was long ago remarked that the birds ofremote islands, such as the Galapagos, which had never seen man, were atfirst not in the least afraid of him. It required, however, but a fewgenerations of experience to show these creatures that the unfeatheredbiped was a singularly dangerous animal, and they at once andpermanently adopted the habit of avoiding him. This incident of itselfshows how quick birds are to learn certain large and important lessons. We see also the reverse of this education in fear in the rapid way inwhich birds become tame when they are secured from persecution. Wherevershooting is stopped over a considerable territory the birds rapidlybecome more tolerant of man's presence. Even among migratory species theindividuals appear to learn that certain places where they areprotected may be resorted to with safety. Because of their freedom of flight it is in all cases difficult tobring our perching birds into such relations with the domiciles of manthat they can be truly domesticated. The success, however, which hasbeen attained in the case of the pigeons, which have been so far madecaptive by the change of their instincts that they never depart farfrom their cotes, seems to indicate that this tendency again to gowild is by no means ineradicable. In other instances it will probablydisappear as it has in this by long-continued care in breeding. Oursuccesses with the geese, ducks, and swans, all of which belong togenera characterized by the migratory habit, show how readily in thecourse of time the old native instincts may be subordinated to thewill of man. Although the degree of the difficulty which will beencountered in taming many wild forms may be far greater than thatwhich has been met in those which we have domesticated, there is noreason whatever to believe that in any case it will be insuperable. While all the creatures of the wilderness may by the breeder's art beinduced to vary in the conditions of captivity, the birds have shownthemselves more plastic in our hands than any other animals. In almostevery brood we find individuals possessing marked peculiarities ofform or plumage. In their mental qualities also there is a like rangeof variation. Seizing upon these, the fancier can guide the quicksucceeding generations so as to cause the form to depart in the courseof a few years very far from its original aspect. With each step inthis succession of changes the readiness with which the speciesresponds to selective care increases. The results which have beenattained in our barnyard fowl and with the pigeons show how admirablythese creatures are fitted to obey the will of man when he has a mindto take charge of their destiny. Perhaps the greatest conquests which we have yet to make among thebirds will be won from the species which have the habit of dwellingmainly or altogether upon the ground. These, as experience shows, canbe more readily brought to the uses of man than the species which arefree by their strong wings to wander through the realms of air. Thereare very many of these ground birds the domestication of which hasnever been fairly essayed. There are perhaps a hundred species whichin one part of the world or another might afford valuable additions toour resources, those of ornament or of economy, and yet within threecenturies only one of these, the turkey, has been brought to thedomesticated state. The greater part of our game birds, such as thequail, pheasants, and partridges, though they appear on slightexperiments to be untamable, could probably by continuous effort bereduced to perfect domestication. For ages they have been harried byman in a manner which has insured a great fear of his presence. Wehave indeed through our hunting instituted a very thorough-going andcontinuous system of selection which has tended to affirm in thesecreatures an intense fear of our kind. Only the more timorous haveescaped us, and year after year we proceed to remove with the gun theindividuals which by chance are born with any considerable share ofthe primitive tolerance of man's presence. It is not to be expectedthat the chicks of these species will at once accept relations withour kind. The domestication of many of these forms is to be desired, not only on account of the excellent quality of their flesh, butbecause of their beauty and the charm which their quick intelligencesafford them. Whoever has watched them in their care of their young ortheir other social habits has observed features which indicate apossible development under domestication perhaps greater than thatwhich we have attained in any other of our feathered captives. It seems most important that experiments in the further domestication ofbirds should be first addressed to certain, large ground forms which arenow in more or less danger of extinction. The newly instituted industryof ostrich farming has probably insured this the noblest remnant of theold avian life from destruction; but the emu and the cassowary are stillamong the diminishing and endangered forms which unless taken into thehuman fold are likely soon to pass away. The brush turkey and the bowerbird of Australia, two of the most curious inhabitants of that realm ofstrange life, appear to have qualities of mind and body which would makethem readily domesticable and which would cause them to be among themost interesting of our feathered captives. Among the aquatic birds there are many species which are as promisingsubjects for domestication as any which have been made captive; these ifsubjugated would prove great additions to our resources of ornament anduse. Thus the eider duck, so well known for its wonderful soft downwhich is plucked from the breast to make a covering for the eggs, thougha marine species, would prove domesticable at least on the seashore ofhigh latitudes. There are many other varieties of the family, such asthe canvas-back which is so highly esteemed for its flesh, that wouldlikewise afford very interesting subjects for experiment. The wading birds are characteristically very wild and range over a widefield; yet the flamingoes, the herons, and their kindred could probablybe brought into at least as near an approach to reconciliation with manas their relations the storks. The comfortable relations which have beenestablished between the last-named species and humankind in northernEurope is probably in nowise due to the peculiarly tamable nature of thebird, but rather to the fact that certain superstitious fancies on thepart of the featherless biped led him to protect the feathered visitorof his roofs and chimneys. Should it be desirable to break up the habitof migration in these or other birds which are now accustomed to rangeup and down the meridians, there seems no reason to doubt that thechange could be accomplished with the same ease that it has been in thecase of the tamed geese and swans. Experience has shown that with theseforms, which probably have not been associated with men for more thanthree or four thousand years, the migratory instinct, which appears oneof the strongest of motives, has utterly disappeared. Not only do theyno longer heed the cries of the wild birds of their kind as they flyaway on their annual journeys, but they have, through the changes inform induced by their quiet life, lost the power to rise far above theearth. They are even more effectively tamed than are their captors. Owing to their singularly perfect protection against the cold, and alsoperhaps to the quickness of their wits, birds are more readilytransferable from one clime to another than are any other animals. Thefeathered tenants of our barnyards are, except perhaps the aquaticspecies and the turkey, all from the tropical realm. Experiments withvarious other wild forms go to show that there are very many othertropical species which will prove to have an equal tolerance of highlatitudes. If this be true we may fairly look to the domestication ofthe varied bird life of the equatorial regions for the enrichment of ournorthern lands. Even when it may not be desirable to bring these speciesto the state of complete subjugation they may be introduced on somethinglike the terms which have been given and accepted in the case of theso-called English pheasant, which has brought to the high north ofBritain and some parts of this country an element of grace which isafforded by no indigenous form of North America or Europe. There arehundreds of beautiful tropical species which await reconciliation withmen; they have that quality of sympathy which affords the naturalfoundations for the contract, but this has in no case been availed ofexcept when the creatures, in addition to their ęsthetic charm, havepossessed some economic value. There as elsewhere in the matter ofdomestication the commercial motive has controlled our action. In forming our societies as we are in time to do, account must betaken of the sympathetic value of its elements, reckoning among thesethe animals which the system brings in contact with men. Much of theculture which has served to lift our race above its ancient savageryhas been derived from the influence of domesticated animals; inproportion as these creatures have sympathetically responded to ourcare we have been thereby educated and our spiritual developmentadvanced. So far as in our further choice of animals which are to beassociated with ourselves we are guided by a desire to extend thiswork, we may well turn our attention towards the birds, for in thatgroup we may find a greater number of species which have attained thephysical beauty which attracts and the mental qualities which mayendear them to mankind. They can give us nothing that can ever come soclose to us as the dog--the unique gift of the wilderness--but theymay afford a host of forms to enrich our lives. The mammals, because they are, in qualities of body and mind, nearer tous than the members of any other class of animals, afford the mostpromising field from which to make selections for future domestication. In an economic sense it seems unlikely that any very great profit canbe attained by the subjugation of any of the mammalian species whichare still wild. Civilized people have been so long in contact with thelife of all the continents, and have ever been so hungry for gain, thatthey have already essayed about every experiment in subjugating thelarger wild beasts which appears to be very promising. Still there arecertain cases where there have been no trials and others where thefailure to tame particular species has been due to hindrances whichsystematic labor may possibly overcome. It will therefore be well toglance at the array of the wild forms which afford some prospect ofsuccess in the hereafter, including under the title of successes thosekinds which may contribute not only to immediately measurable wealth, but the ęsthetic satisfactions as well. Beginning with the lowlier group of mammals we find in the base of theseries the ornithorhynchus and its allies, creatures which have nothingto recommend them but their exceeding organic peculiarities that renderthem attractive to the naturalist, but which are not likely to win thema place in the affections of men in general. As these species are mostinoffensive as well as interesting, and as they are now confined to aportion of Australia, they might well be made the subject of some humancare which would stop short of domestication. They might be transplantedto other continents and thereby given a larger field for variation aswell as a chance to exhibit their features in a wider field. Among thepouched mammals, especially in the species of kangaroo, there are formswhich commend themselves as very fair subjects for taming. They are ofconsiderable size, their flesh is palatable, and their hides useful forleather; they breed rapidly, live on a poor herbage, and are, for wildanimals of like strength, very inoffensive. Moreover, though relativelyinvariable both in mind and body, they exhibit sufficient individualpeculiarities to indicate that the breeder's art could, in a short time, bring about considerable changes such as have been effected in otherspecies, changes that would increase the value of these animals. As faras ęsthetic or sympathetic relations are concerned, the pouched mammalshave nothing to give us; they are, as befits their lowly estate, amongthe least graceful of their class; they are also little interesting intheir mental qualities, being about the stupidest of our kindred. Among the ordinary herbivorous mammals there are several which shouldbe domesticable which have not yet been properly subjected toexperiment looking to that end. The American bison, commonly butimproperly termed the buffalo, is a strong creature, one which iseasily nourished. In its present condition, it is about as promising asubject for the breeder's care as were the ancestors of our hornedcattle. Although there have been sundry trials of this animal as abeast of burthen, they have been of a rude as well as a brief kind, nocare having been taken by selection to improve the qualities whichevidently commend themselves to our use. The flesh of this species isquite as good as that of the wild bulls of the genus Bos, and the hideshave a peculiar value on account of their somewhat woolly character. There is reason to believe that, bred in the region of the high north, about Lake Saskatchewan for instance, with proper selection this hairycovering could be developed much as has the wool on the sheep. This isindicated by the considerable variations in the quality of the coatwhich go to show that the feature is still in a very plastic state, astate that may be said to invite the assistance of man in order tobring it to the full measure of its possibilities. If this coveringcould be developed, the result would be to give us a domesticated beastof large size with a hairy covering having the character of a fur; suchwould be a great addition to our resources. As there is a large extent of country in the high latitudes of NorthAmerica, Asia, and South America, where the climate is too severe andthe herbage too scanty to serve the needs of our ordinary cattle, inwhich a hardy feeder with a well-clad body such as the buffalo mightdo well, it seems most desirable to essay the experiment ofdomesticating the bison before it is too late, before the brutalinstincts of our kind have quite made an end of the noblest animalwhich is native in the Americas. There is another inhabitant of the high north of this continent whichdeserves the notice of those who are disposed to attend to the questionsconcerning the extension of man's control over nature; this is theovibos or musk-ox. Like the buffalo, only in much higher measure, thissingular creature is fit for very cold countries; his fitness being inpart assured by his admirable covering of long hair as well as by hiscapacity for taking on fat during the short summer in sufficient storeto last him through the trials of the winter season. The kinship of themusk-ox to the group of the sheep is near enough to warrant the beliefthat the hair could be improved by selection, and that from the processwe would be likely to obtain an animal much larger than our largestsheep and yielding fleeces of peculiar value in the arts. Among the northern carnivora there are several species which deserveattention for the reason that they may be brought to some degree ofdomestication which may enable us to make better use of their hairycoverings. Among these we may mention the foxes, the polar bears, andthe seals. The first-named group affords at present about the dearestfurs of our markets. The silver-gray variety, which at present seems tobe a frequent individual variation, could doubtless be affirmed byselection, and probably could be brought to a higher state of perfectionthan it has as yet attained. The animals are, if we may judge from theirkindred, not untamable; at least they could be brought to live in asufficient state of captivity to permit selection. In time they might bequite domesticated. Many of the islands of the high north and south arewell fitted for such experiments. As is well known, the polar bears have a wonderfully developed hairycovering; their coats, indeed, are among the richest that exist. Theseanimals subsist mainly on what they capture from the sea, so that itmight be possible to keep them at a small expense. They are, however, ofall their kindred the most indomitable; it would probably require along and costly effort to reduce them to anything like domestication. Moreover, being strong, free swimmers, it would not be easy to maintainthem in captivity. Still, selecting such a well-inundated place as BearIsland of the North Atlantic, it would be most interesting to make theexperiment, first of accustoming them to some human control, and then toa selection which might serve to lift the quality of the kind. It wouldbe less difficult and perhaps more advisable at first to make a trial ofa similar sort with the black bear, which in less arctic conditionsflourishes and carries a fine pelt. The only difficulty would be infinding a sufficient supply of food for such captives, for although theywill eat fish they have no skill in capturing them such as is possessedby their more degraded, or perhaps we should say their less advancedkindred, the polar bears. Still, as the form is even more omnivorousthan man, it might be practicable to feed them. By far the most important of the carnivora in an economic sense are theseals which dwell in the high northern waters. These creatures affordthe most interesting subjects for experiments in domestication from aneconomic point of view that remain to be made. Of all the predatoryanimals the seals seem to have the largest share of intelligence andthe greatest amount of sympathetic motives. No other wild animals, except perhaps the monkeys, appear to be so human-like in theirqualities of mind as these creatures of the sea. So far, except whenthey have been captured and kept for purposes of show in menageries, man's relations to the seals have been purely destructive; he hasincessantly hunted them. Yet certain species of them remain singularlywilling, we may say desirous, of claiming friendship with theirpersecutors. As elsewhere noted, wounded seals behave in a curiouslyappealing way towards their assailants. When in captivity certain ofthe species show a remarkable friendliness and a capacity to receivetraining. No other wild animals, except perhaps the elephants, exhibitso great a fitness for profiting from contact with man. Although our knowledge as to the habits of seals is still veryimperfect, it appears likely that the greater part of the species havethe habit of resorting to certain places during the breeding season, andthat the individuals after the manner of certain fishes return at thattime to their native shore. If this be true, as there is good reason tobelieve it is, it should not be a matter of grave difficulty, providedthe maritime nations would abet the experiment, to establish sealcolonies composed of the several promising forms at fit points in thecircumpolar seas. There is reason to suppose that with ordinary decenttreatment the animals would become to a great degree accustomed to men, and that it might be possible to accomplish selection enough of theindividuals which were left to breed, to develop the already valuablecharacteristics of the fur. In the present disgraceful condition of ourrelations to these animals it will be but a few years before we shallhave to lament the extirpation of several species, including the mostinteresting members of the group. Looking upon the questions of man's future on the earth in a largeway, we see that there are reasons why the animals of the high north, particularly those which obtain their food from the sea, should beprotected from extermination. There is a great area of country in thatpart of the world which is not adapted to the occupation of any of thespecies which have as yet been domesticated. If this portion of theworld is ever to prove fruitful in other ways than through itsmineral stores, it will be by the creatures which are adapted to itsclimate and other conditions. At the present rate of increase innumbers, the population of the world will, in the course of two orthree centuries, begin seriously to press upon the resources in theway of food which the fields of the tropical and temperate zones cansupply; the chances of the arctic regions may then have muchimportance to our successors. Moreover, in the case of the seals wefind the peculiar advantage that the animals are fed entirely from thesea, so that the domestication of these forms would give to man ameans, the like of which he has never possessed, whereby he would beenabled to harvest the food resources of the deep. The beaver, particularly the North American form, offers a mostattractive opportunity for a great and far-reaching experiment indomestication. On this continent, at least, the creature exhibits arange of attractive qualities which is exceeded by none other in thewhole range of the lower mammalian life. No other mammal below man showsanything like the same constructive skill in the contrivance of itshabitations, or is able so to modify its habits of building to meet thevaried needs of its life. When this country was first visited by mannear one half of its area was occupied by this species. It built itsdams and dwelling-places and, when necessary, excavated its canals alongall the lesser streams in the timbered regions of the northerndistricts. As the destructive effects of civilization increased, theanimal has gradually, to a great extent, been driven away from its oldhaunts, and where it remains it has, as the price of life, given up itsarchitectural habits and betaken itself to the older and simpler mode ofliving in a chance manner much as is now the habit of the Europeanvariety. As an illustration of this I may note, in passing, that beforethe civil war, when all the recesses of the forests in the region aboutRichmond, Virginia, had for more than a century been industriouslyexplored by hunters, the beaver was supposed to be extinct in thedistrict; yet during the civil war, as I am credibly informed, a colonyof these creatures became established near the town of Suffolk, andthere, amid the roar of a great conflict in which men ceased to seek thelesser game, they recovered their habit of building dams, which we mustbelieve to have been discontinued for many generations. This capacity tovary action with reference to changing needs is the best possible indexof the mental power of animals. Guided by the exhibition that has beengiven us by the beavers, we are justified in considering them to be theone group of mammals which has gained a distinct, rational constructivepower. This feature makes them decidedly the most interesting group forinvestigations which may be expected to throw light on the problems ofanimal intelligence. From the economic point of view the species has acertain importance for the reason that it affords one of the mostvaluable kinds of fur that has ever been marketed. The domestication of the beavers to the point where they would toleratethe presence of man should not, provided they could be protected againstthe depredations of poachers, be a matter of any difficulty. Thecolonies of these animals require only what is afforded by vast realmsof our wildernesses--flowing streams of moderate fall with timber upontheir banks. They are not particular as to the species, so thatswift-growing kinds of trees such as the poplars may be made to servetheir needs. The natural growth on a hundred acres of otherwiseworthless land would probably be sufficient to maintain a colony ofaverage size containing say twenty-five individuals. In the region aboutthe great lakes and for some distance to the northward and to the eastand west there are great areas amounting in the aggregate to somehundred thousand square miles that would apparently be well suited tothe nurture of this form, and which in the present condition of thecountry, as well as for the immediate future, cannot be turned to betteruse. It may be remarked that the domestication of the beavers wouldafford yet another means, in addition to those above noted, whereby wemight be able to win some profit from the great wilderness of the north, which is, so far as our existing means of appropriating its resources, of little use to mankind. The only evident way by which we may hope towin profit from this part of our continent is by using it as a field forrearing animals that have yet to be subjugated; none of our captivevarieties are fit for the service. In the tropical parts of the world there are many mammalian specieswhich are worthy subjects for essays in domestication. This isparticularly the case in the continent of Africa where, except in thelands about the Mediterranean and the Red Sea, the native peoples havenever attained the stage of culture in which men become stronglyinclined to subjugate wild animals. Africa is richer in largeherbivorous species than any other of the great lands; many of theseforms are of large size and have qualities of flesh, of hide, or otherpeculiar features which promise to make them valuable in an economicway. Others, especially the antelopes, have a beauty of form and a graceof movement which render them among the most attractive creatures oftheir class. Even the hippopotamus, one of the grossest beasts of thisrealm, affords in its teeth a valuable ivory, and its hides, if suppliedin sufficient quantity, would probably find a considerable use. It isevident that in this "dark continent, " where the influences which makefor human advancement have been so slight, we have the best field forthe selection of species that may hereafter be brought to the use ofman. There is evidently danger, in the advance in the civilizingprocess, that the native forms which, owing to their fitness to thephysical conditions of the country, might be made useful to its people, may be utterly destroyed by hunters. Perhaps the most interesting of the tropical beasts from the point ofview which we occupy is the elephant: This animal in its relations tomen is eminently peculiar, in that while it has been in an individualway long and completely subjugated, it has never been systematicallyreared in captivity. Owing, it may be, to the slow growth of thesegreat beasts, as well as to the immediate manner in which they submitto their captors, it has ever been the custom to take them when adultfrom the wilderness. The result is that the supply of the Asiaticspecies, which alone is serviceable--the African form being apparentlytoo fierce for use--is now dependent on a relatively small number ofwild herds. Certain of these herds are protected by the governments ofIndia, but it seems as if the species were already dangerously nearthe vanishing point--in a position where the invasion of some diseaseor some insect enemy might deprive the world of what is, all thingsconsidered, the most interesting of the brutes. Moreover, the failureto rear elephants in captivity has made it impossible to essay any ofthose experiments in breeding which have done so much to improve theutility and the beauty of most subjugated forms. If the elephants could be reared in captivity there is little reasonto doubt that with a few centuries of selection they might be made tovary in many important ways. It is evident that the form and mentalquality of these creatures is as plastic as those features in theother domesticated animals have been proved to be. Moreover, thegroup, though it is now represented by but two recognized species, wasin comparatively recent times quite rich in varieties, a fact whichraises the presumption that the existing kinds are open tomodification by the selective process. As the elephant is not matureuntil it is near thirty years old, probably not reproducing untilabout that age, there is little inducement for any person to undertakethe process of breeding them in the selective way; if the task is everdone it will have to be accomplished by government action or by thatof a society which is pledged to such tasks. If the effort to bringthe elephants into a more permanent relation with man is not made andthe race is allowed to perish, we may be sure that in the time to comepeople will gravely censure us for any such neglect of theopportunities which this world affords as would be involved in theloss of this noble brute. It is clearly our duty to see that all suchresources are preserved for the inquirers of the future. Among the other tropical mammals which, because they have not as yetproved of economic value, are on account of their size and theirattractiveness to sportsmen in danger of extinction, we may note thevarious species of rhinoceros, the giraffe, and the several Africanforms which are akin to the horse. None of these forms have beenturned to use, none of them appear likely to be adopted by man forthe service they can do; but they are, in common with all the hostwhich cannot be mentioned here, of great interest to the naturalistsof our time. Their importance in the inquiries which are hereafter tobe made by our ever expanding science of life cannot be estimated. Itcertainly will not be possible to overreckon it in this very practicalage. This plea for the sparing of the mammalian species in no caseneeds to be made so strongly, and in no other instance is so wellentitled to a hearing, as when it is raised for the life of themonkeys. These interesting animals because of their collateral kinshipwith man afford precious evidence as to the stages of intellectualdevelopment which is likely to be of exceeding value to students inthat field of inquiry. There is unfortunately little chance that anyof the monkeys will ever prove useful; their habits are such that theyare generally troublesome neighbors; moreover, their weakness makes iteasy to exterminate them. The result is that some species haveprobably already been destroyed, and others are in conditions whereduring the next century they are likely to vanish. In the animaterealm it is hard to choose the forms which are to be the mostimportant for the naturalists of the time to come, but it is certainthat these students will deplore the loss of the simian life andcharge us sorely if we neglect due effort for its preservation. Although the matter before us concerns the domestication of animals, itmay be well to devote a little attention to the question of the wildplants which need protection or which promise to afford unwon values. Itmay be said that plants in general are much less likely than animals tobe disturbed by the process of bringing a country under the conditionsof civilization. With rare exceptions the individuals of each speciesare so numerous that, like the insects, they escape by their numbers therisk of the extinction of their kinds. Moreover, the ease with whichnearly all the kinds can be brought under cultivation, and the fact thatthey present no self-will to be dominated, makes the task of dealingwith them, in a protective way, infinitely easier than in the case ofanimals. So far as we know, there has not been an instance in which acontinental species of plant has been exterminated by man, while thereare a number of the larger animals which have been swept away apparentlyby human agency, and there are many more which are on the verge ofextinction. Therefore, so far as the plant world is concerned, we mayfor the present at least trust the species to their own powers tomaintain them against the rude assaults of civilization. If here andthere one is overrun by the wheels of our economic engines, something ofvalue to the student is lost, but the loss does not include the elementof mind which is hereafter to be the subject of so much study. The foregoing considerations make it evident that the problem ofdomestication shades into the question as to the preservation of thelife which is now on the earth, and this with a view to the advantagewhich the arts, the sciences, or general culture may obtain from thepreservation of the useful, the instructive, and the beautiful things inthe realm of nature from the swift destruction which our rudesubjugation of the earth threatens to inflict. To deal with this problemin an adequate manner we must ask ourselves what limits are to be set tothe displacement of the ancient order which is now going on. We see thatwherever civilization enters, and even where its first influences arefelt, the olden societies of nature are disturbed or broken up. All thenobler members of these associations, the greater mammals, many of thelarger birds, and a host of the lesser forms, are expelled or destroyed. In the condition of organic life when the supremely predatory creatureman rose to domination, the species were grouped in those vastorganizations which were of old termed faunę and florę, but which arenow better known as biological fields or provinces. In each of thesehosts the several species were, as regards their external life, sobalanced with their neighbors that the assemblage from the point of viewof these relations might well be compared with the polities or states ofman's construction. Such an organic society represents the result of aseries of trials and balances which began to be made in the immeasurablyremote past and have been continued through the geologic ages, each ageadding something to the accord. The plants give and take from theanimals; the insects are equated with the birds, and each species inevery group has set up an accord with its rivals. From time to time thehost has by the changes of sea and land been compelled to migrate, moving this way and that to find its fit station. In these movementsspecies are rapidly extinguished, much as the weaker soldiers of an armyperish in forced marches. Into their places new forms hasten to taketheir place, so that every position of advantage is filled. At a lessrapid rate, but perpetually, even without the change of abode, which itis often by climatic changes compelled to make, the organic host isslowly changing in character; old kinds give way in the endless contestto new varieties which have managed to establish a better relation tothe environment. Still the legions press on towards the greataccomplishment of a higher and nobler life. No one, however well he may conceive the nature and history of theorganic hosts of the earth, can hope to convey to the general readeran adequate sense of their majesty or the wonderful part they haveplayed in the history of the life which has culminated in mankind. Thelargest words are freighted with too little meaning, and even themetaphors drawn from human associations fail to convey a sufficientpicture of these enduring organizations which have enabled livingbeings to meet the difficulties of their long contest with this rudeworld, and to win the advance they have gained. The reader will haveto tax his imagination to picture, it may be, a quarter of a millionspecies dwelling in the same field, each united with the other in themethod of exchange in such a way that the withdrawal of any one formis likely in some measure to change the estate of every other. In somecases this removal of one species means the loss of the life of manyand perhaps the better opportunity of other neighbors; again, theinfluence on remoter members of the society may be so slight as toescape detection. Yet it is doubtful if the slightest change in thepopulation of a biologic province can be brought about without someeffect upon all the members of the society. It is a vast, sensitivething, fit to be compared with the living body where every cell livesin accord with every other of the frame. So long as the organic hosts were in the prehuman stage the maintenanceof the accord was easily and naturally attained. Species arose andperished, each in turn effecting a simple reconciliation with theothers, grasping only so much room and food as was necessary for itsproper support. But with the coming of man, the species which by itsswiftly progressive desires has become a host in itself, a disturbingelement was introduced into the old order. Man as a primitive savagefalls into the natural system without greatly disturbing it; but man asa soil-tiller, in so far as he carries out his subjugative work, utterly wrecks the ancient establishments of life. To attain his objecthe has to banish from the soil nearly all the plants which originallybelonged upon it, and in their place, with or without intention, heintroduces species from other organic provinces. With the change inplant-life necessarily goes a like, or even a greater, alteration inthe native animals. They are driven into the wilderness or, it may be, extirpated. The reader who would obtain an idea of these changes willdo well to study the invasions of weeds or of those noxious insectswhich in the economy of a civilized country may be likened to weeds. These pests are in nearly all cases invaders which owe their successesto the fact that our treatment of the regions they have entered hasopened vacancies in the once closed ranks of the indigenous host, intowhich the foreigners are free to enter. In the fresh field they are notlikely to find enemies which by long training are especially fitted tocope with them, and so they run riot and contest with man the gains hehas won from the ancient possessors of the land. Of all the large questions which the consideration of the future ofman's work on this planet opens to us, there is none which now appearsto be more serious or, in its consequences, more far-reaching thanthis concerning the treatment which he is to give to the old naturalorder of sea and land. The very first condition of civilization is anutter spoiling of that order, so far as the land areas are concerned, in the fields of the richest and highest life. It is clearlyimpossible to avoid this destruction over all the surface which we winto culture. Spare as we may, the subversion of the ancient balancesand adjustments must be complete before the earth is ready for ourtillage and other modes of use. This overturning is a part of thedestiny of man. It is a characteristic of the new dispensation whichcame with his progressive desires. Yet the rational quality which hasled to the mastery of man may be trusted to bring him to a point wherehe will endeavor to minimize the ill effects of his actions on thelife which has been placed in his hands. In considering the ways in which we can mitigate the evils of our ruleover organic nature, we at once see that our aim should be to preserveall the varieties of living creatures from destruction, provided theyare not distinctly harmful to man, and this with the intention ofkeeping for our successors in the inheritance all that can in any wayafford a foundation for further experiments in domestication, materialsfor learned inquiries, or pleasure in contemplation. To attain thisobject we cannot trust to the share of this life which can be broughtinto zoölogical and botanical gardens, however extensive and wellmanaged. The only way is to make certain reservations in various partsof the world, each containing an area and a variety of conditions greatenough to afford a safe lodgment for a true sample of the life of anorganic province. Owing to the fact that these provinces are neversharply bounded, it would naturally be impossible to select reservationswhich would in a complete manner represent all the conditions of thebiologic societies; but if properly distributed the outlying animals andplants could in most if not all cases be introduced into one or otherof these protected fields, so that there would be little reason to fearthat any important part of the existing life would be lost. Owing to the wise forethought of our American people, a practicalfoundation of the system of national reservations has been institutedin our so-called national parks. Although these reservations wereestablished to preserve to the public certain natural beauties in theway of scenery or vegetation, or to secure the regimen of streams, they will, if properly guarded against depredations, effect the endwhich we have in view. Owing to their large area and somewhat variedpositions, these parks provide a safe refuge for a great part of thelife which belongs in the Cordilleran district of the United States. If the method should be extended to the whole country, we should havethe peculiar satisfaction of having been the first state to institutethe system of preservation which is here suggested. To complete a system of reservations designed to perpetuate theaboriginal life of this country would require the institution of about adozen other similar natural shelters. It would not be necessary to havethese on as large a scale as that of the Yellowstone. In most casesareas of from ten to twenty thousand acres in extent would, if wellguarded, suffice to give refuge to the animals and plants of the fieldin which it lay. The selection of these refuges would demand muchconsideration. In general, it may be said that they need to include atleast two on the Atlantic coast, which might also be fitted for the useof marine birds as breeding places, one on the northern part of thecoast of Maine, and another in southern Florida. The latter might serveas well for the protection of the turtles which resort to that shore tolay their eggs. Similar coast parks should be established on the shoresof the Pacific. Yet other closed areas would be needed in the interior, the evidently desirable fields lying in the region about the headwatersof the Mississippi, in the Adirondacks, in the mountains of NorthCarolina, in the lower part of the Mississippi delta, in Arizona, and atleast two points in Alaska; one of these should afford a place of refugefor the persecuted fur seals and another for the musk-ox. At first sight it may seem to be a simple matter to accommodate thewild life of a country on a relatively small piece of land. So far, indeed, as the plants, the insects, and the lesser mammalian life areconcerned, an area of a few hundred acres will serve very well fortheir safe harborage, but when it comes to protecting the larger birdsand mammals we see how easily the natural balance of life is by somechance influence destroyed. A capital instance of this difficultywhich arises when preservation is essayed on small areas has recentlybeen forced on my attention. In Dukes County, Massachusetts, there isthe vanishing remnant of an interesting bird known from the island towhich it is limited as the Martha's Vineyard prairie chicken. It isclosely related to its better known Western kinsman, yet is a distinctvariety. Although the form has apparently developed on the island andonce abounded there, it has dwindled in numbers until there are butfew surviving. In the hope of providing a safe refuge for the remnant, I have for a number of years stopped all shooting on a tract of athousand or two acres which is well fitted to supply them with foodand shelter. As they still dwindled, it seemed probable that the foxeswere harming them. This appeared the more likely for the reason thatthe fox is not a native of the island, but was introduced a few yearsago by some reckless experimenters. These marauders were cleared awaywithout good results. Further inquiry made it apparent that the realenemy of these birds was the feralized domestic cat which has gonewild from the households, especially from the many homesteads thathave been abandoned. This creature has bred in great numbers and isnow threatening the existence of all birds that rear their broods uponthe ground. It is hardly possible to exterminate them, for the reasonthat they are wary, and any systematic hunting of them would proveexceedingly disturbing to the very timid birds. The result is thatnearly all these birds have left my land for certain plains near bywhich are covered with scrub oaks and where there is too little groundlife to attract the cats. In that region, though it has an area ofabout thirty thousand acres, the food is scanty; the prairie chickensdwelling there are likely to perish for lack of the rose-hips which, in the hill country they have been forced to desert, served tomaintain them at times when the ground was covered with snow. The lesson which may be drawn from the experience above stated is tothe effect that it is necessary to have a protected field ofsufficient area, and in the proper conditions to keep the balance oflife which arises from the exchange of relations between species intheir normal state. Even in ideal reservations where all invasions areexcluded, we should have to expect that from time to time certainforms would disappear, their place perhaps being taken by new specieswhich would arise. Such is the manner of the great procession of life. Probably at least twenty and perhaps a hundred times as many speciesas are now living on the earth have perished from it, and before theunimaginable goal is attained as many others may pass away. Our taskwith the refuges would be to keep the death of the specificinhabitants to the natural and wholesome rate that is determined bythe endless struggle for existence. It is impracticable at the present time to devise a scheme for refugestations in other countries than our own; it is evident, however, that these would have to be numerous and widely distributed. A glanceat a map showing the political distribution of the lands will make itevident, however, that within the holdings of the British, French, German, Dutch, and Russian governments there are large areas whichmight, without evident loss of considerable economic values, immediate or prospective, be turned to such uses, and that thesereservations would probably include nearly all that would berequired to preserve the most important samples of the primitivelife. Some of them, as for instance those intended to retain thelarge tropical animals in their natural state, would have to be asimperial in their areas as the Yellowstone Park, but these would liein realms which have no present value to our own race and arescantily inhabited by the indigenous peoples. It is easy to see that the proposed world-wide system of wildernessstations in which the native life should be preserved from thedestructive influences of man's assault upon it could not be broughtabout without international coöperation and with a considerableexpenditure of money both for the foundation and maintenance of theestablishments; but, as before remarked, the idea of publicreservations of this nature is one which immediately and stronglycommended itself to the people of this country and has led theirrepresentatives to set aside for such use lands which in theaggregate amount to a larger area than some of our sister states. The same motive is seen in the action of the State of Massachusetts, which a few years ago created a Board of Trustees of PublicReservations, a corporate body authorized to hold in perpetuitylands which are intended to serve the public for pleasure andinstruction. The recent rapid extension of the park systemsappertaining to the cities of this country and Europe is a furtherillustration of the same motive which makes for the object which wedesire. It therefore seems not unreasonable to hope that very soonwe may find the governments of the greater nations willing to goforward on the line of advance in which our own has so well led theway. At the right time the United States could probably do much tofurther the matter by asking for international action in thisadmirable work. There is hardly any undertaking which would afford afairer chance for friendly coöperation among the great states thanthis which looks forward to the good of the time to come. While looking forward to the establishment of a system of sanctuarieswhich may serve to protect examples of the present life of all thelands, it is also well to consider what can be done by localauthorities and by individuals in the same direction. The numerouszoölogical and botanical gardens which have been established indifferent parts of the world have in part the same motive that is to beembodied in the larger institutions which we would see founded; theyseek to preserve the interesting and instructive animals and plants, and in some cases contrive to perpetuate the kinds. The trouble is thattheir main purpose is to make a striking show, one that will attractthe eye and lead to profit of an immediate kind. If these institutionscould be persuaded to add to their former exhibitions grounds designedfor the maintenance of the natural order, true wildernesses, where thenative life would find a fit place of abode and where it would beprotected from the ravages of man or from accident, a certain gainwould be made; at least the masses of our city people, who have nowcome to control legislation in the great states, would be brought tosee the beauties of the primitive conditions which they now rarelyhave a chance to behold. Yet more might be accomplished if men ofwealth could be induced to turn their generous spirit towards thisobject. There are many parts of this country where reservations aremost desirable and where the price of land is so low that an area ofthirty thousand acres could be acquired for that number of dollars. Acapital of one hundred thousand dollars would, at the present rates ofinterest, afford the revenue necessary for the pay of a keeper andhalf a dozen guards, a sufficient force to maintain a due watchfulnessagainst depredations. Moreover, the use of such land as an asylumwould not prevent a careful exploitation of its timber resources, which in many cases would give a sufficient return to provide for thepolicing expenses, as well as for incidental costs incurred inbringing upon the land species from the neighboring country which itmight be desirable to introduce. At a cost of not more than a milliondollars it would be possible to secure and maintain a well-chosensystem of guarded wildernesses which would preserve thecharacteristics of the original plant and animal life in all theregion of this country lying to the east of the Rocky Mountains. It would be essential in any such privately founded system of wildernessreservations to have the control of the establishments in the hands ofsome authorities which were of an enduring nature. In our Americanexperience it has become certain that such trusts cannot be safelyreposed in the state or national governments, or in the hands oftrustees chosen for the particular function. The only authorities whichcommend themselves for the execution of such a purpose are those of ouruniversities. In these institutions we find boards which are chosen forthe attainment of intellectual ends; in certain cases the choice is madeby the vote of an intelligent body of alumni, or in other ways guardedby that body, so that the chance of lapse in the quality of the contractis reduced to a minimum. Several instances could be given showing thatsuch trusts, even when they do not directly pertain to the teaching workof these institutions, have been long and faithfully maintained. We maytherefore look upon our universities as the natural repositories ofconfidences which pertain to the continuous intellectual work of man. There is no other kind of association where interests of the sort whichwould have to be cared for in the reservations of the wilderness are solikely to receive continuous attention. In these homes of learning, while business considerations enter, personal greed is naturally absent. The method which may be chosen for the control of wildernessreservations, though a problem of much importance, is of coursesecondary to the matter of their establishment. This work should at oncecommand the attention of those persons who are of the foresightful classwho see beyond the interests of the day, and take account of the needsof the generations to come. Such men will do well to begin the work byorganizing a society which shall endeavor to arouse public attention tothe destructive effects of man's occupation of the earth by hiscivilizations. The people need to be taught the true meaning of theindigenous life in relation to the problems of the origin and destinyof our own and other life, to the future exercise of the domesticatingart and to the most refined gratifications. It may be noted that, beginning with the apparently simple andeminently popular questions as to the origin and economic history ofthe animals which have been subjugated by man, we have been naturallyled to the consideration of much larger problems, those relating to theplace of man in the order of nature, and his duty by the life of whichhe is an integral part. There can be no question that the sense of thisduty which mastery of the earth gives or should afford is to be one ofthe moral gifts of modern learning. So long as men consideredthemselves to be accidents on the earth, imposed upon it by the will ofa Supreme Being, but in nowise related in origin and history to thecreatures amid which they dwelt, it was natural that they shouldexercise a careless and despotic power over their subjects. Now that ithas been made perfectly clear that we have come forth from the maze ofthe lower life, that all these tenants of the wilderness are sharers inthe order which has brought us to our estate, and that each one ofthem, plant and animal alike, is the record of the impulses which leadbeings upward, we can no longer keep the old careless attitude. We arecompelled to deal with the organic hosts as we deal with the creaturesof our folds and fields. We have to look upon them all as a member ofthe great household of man, made such by the intellectual conquest ofthe world to which he has attained. We may trust the sense of thislarge duty to extend abroad under the influences which have developedit in the minds of a few men, or we may hasten its development by apropaganda such as is carried on by the societies for the prevention ofcruelty to animals. If this latter course is taken the teaching shouldbe on a higher plane than that which we have yet had from thosegenerally admirable associations. Bad as is the ill treatment ofdomesticated animals, the suppression of that evil will not bring usmaterially nearer the true attitude that we need to assume in face ofour responsibilities to the natural world. We need to see the greatnessof the responsibility which has been imposed upon us by the action ofthe guiding power that has made us lords of the earth. INDEX Animals, rights of, 204. Separation of city folk from, 223. Educability of, 227. Antelopes, 247. Aryan race, relation to domestication, 152, 220. Relation to rights of animals, 208. Ass, 93. Bears, possible domestication of, 243. Beasts of burden, 103. Beaver, 246. Habits of, 246. Domestication of, 247. Bee (honey), 191. In North America, 195. Big Bone Lick, Ky. , 129. Birds, 152. Free-flying species of, 182. Tree species of, 182. Vocal powers of, 183. ęsthetic nature of, 187. Conditions of domestication of, 233. Future domestication of, 235. Bison, 106. Domestication of, 241. Buffaloes, 105. African, 106. Bulls, 105. Camels, origin of, 119. Limited nature of, 120. Lessening value of, 124. Cattle (horned), value of, 110. Variations of, 113. Cats, origin of domesticated forms of, 51. Their love of well-known places, 51. Compared with dogs, 52. Their return to wild state, 55. No large species domesticated, 56. Cochineal, 201. Dogs, origin of, 11. Fossil species of, 15. Savage selection of, 17. Civilized conditions of, 18. Shepherd breed of, etc. , 19. Hunting varieties of, 25. Intellectual qualities of, 29. Evils of fancy breeding, 31. Lack of constructive faculty, 40. Modes of expression, 44. Effect on human sympathy, 48. Possible new varieties of, 50. Domestication, relation to culture, 2. Relation to sympathies, 4. Slow institution of, 7. Mainly by Aryan people, 152. Problem of, 218. Hap-hazard nature of, 225. Conditions of, 229. Domesticability, on what depending, 107. Donkey, 93. Limited use of, 94. Elephants, native freedom of, 107. Origin of, 127. Ancient species of, 128. Present limitation of, 130. Use in war, 130. Domesticability of, 131. Intelligence of, 132. Possible improvement of, 137. Future care of species required for preservation, 249. Falconry, 184. Fishes, limits of domestication, 232. Fowls (barnyard), 153. Mental qualities of, 154. Voices of, 155. Domesticability of, 156. Game variety of, 159. Giraffe, 249. Goats, 115. Limited relation to man, 116. Little variation of, 117. Limited intelligence of, 118. Guinea hen, 164. Hawking, 184. Horse, economic value to man, 57. Origin of, 58. Hoof of, 61. Field in which developed, 65. Domestication of, 66. Use in war, 67. Effect of mounted men on early peoples, 69. Future use in military campaigns, 70. Value in agriculture, 74. Mental qualities of, 75. Ready variations of, 78. Norman variety of, 82. Geographic varieties of, 83. Arabian variety of, 85. Indian ponies, 86. Care of, 87. Shoeing of, 91. Influence on man, 100. Hybrids, utility of, 96. Insects, 190. Limited value to man, 190. Kangaroo, 240. Mammalia, value of class as source of domesticable animals, 149. Future domestication of, 238. Mammals (tertiary), 150. Mammoth, 129. Man, his place in nature, 1. Sudden appearance of, 6. As a destroyer, 229. Martha's Vineyard prairie chicken, 257. Milk, value of, as food, 110. Monkeys, little use to man, 250. Value for inquiry, 250. Mule, 95. Limitations in use of, 95. Only hybrid serviceable to man, 96. Mental qualities of, 98. Musk ox, 241. Organic hosts, 253. Ostrich, 168. Possible improvement of, 168. Pack animals, 104. Parks, national, etc. , 256. Pea-fowl, 162. Habits of, 163. Intelligence of, 164. Pets, influence of, 223. Pig, origin of, 140. Value of flesh, 140. Progressive domestication of, 142. Intelligence of, 143, 148. Variations in habits of, 147. Pigeons, 175. Origin of, 176. Breeds of, 177. Mental qualities of, 180. Plants, danger of extinction of species of, 250. Refuge stations. (See Reservations. ) Reservations (of wilderness), 256. American, 256. Foreign, 259. Cost of, 261. Rhinoceros, 249. Rights of animals, 204. Origin of, 205. Savages, relation of, to animals, 219. Seals, possible domestication of, 243. Sheep, 115. Value of wool, 115. Variations of, 116. Mental qualities of, 118. Silkworm, 197. Turkey, origin of, 165. Variations of, 166. Mental qualities of, 167. Vivisection, 211. Water-birds, 169. Flight of, 169. Sympathetic quality, 171. Wildernesses, destruction of, 224. Reservations of, 256. Wool-bearing animals, 114. Transcriber's Notes: Inconsistencies in hyphenation of words retained. (barn-yard, barnyard, hap-hazard, haphazard, help-meet, helpmeet, on-going, ongoing, pre-human, prehuman) Inconsistencies in spelling of zoological names retained. (aepyornis, Epiornis) List of illustrations and page 158 caption, among the of four breeds ofdomestic fowl named, the original spelling of the breed "Houdin" isretained. Probably refers to the breed now more commonly known as"Houdan". Page 56, unusual spelling of "chetah" retained. Probably refers to"cheetah". (A large Asiatic cat known as the chetah is somewhat) Page 87, "similiar" changed to "similar". (reason that nothing similar) Page 158, 160, 173 captions. The original appearance and wording isreproduced in the html version. For the text version, more meaningfuland grammatical captions have been provided as the original captionscomprised a series of separate breed or species names used to labelthe animals in the illustration. Page 179, original text "In early time" retained, although "In earlytimes" is probably more grammatical. (In early time, before theinvention of) Page 256, "cordilleran" changed to "Cordilleran". ( the Cordillerandistrict of the United States) Page 266, index entry "Ostrich, possible improvement of". Page referencechanged from 108 to 168. Page 108 has no content fitting the topic whilepage 168 clearly has. Postioning of illustrations: Text version: illustration tags in the middle of a paragraph are moved to a paragraph break above or below. Html version: 1. Illustrations in the middle of a paragraph are moved to a paragraph break above or below the paragraph. Where there is no paragraph break on the page, the illustration is moved to the nearest paragraph break in the pages before or after. For smaller half-width illustrations with text wrapping down one side, the image is floated left or right at a suitable paragraph break to resemble the appearance in the original text. The positioning of illustrations may cause the amount of text between page number anchors to be smaller than usual. 2. Full page illustrations. With the exception of the illustration on Page 10, full page illustrations in the original text had blank reverse sides which were included in the page number count. In the html, such illustrations carry a two-number page anchor e. G. [53-4]. Where full page illustrations occur in the middle of a paragraph, they and their page anchors are moved upwards to the nearest paragraph break. The page anchors remain in sequence but some text in the page before the illustration will have been displaced from its page anchor and will appear below the illustration. 3. Original page numbers in the list of illustrations have been retained, however the underlying links have been edited to navigate directly to the illustrations since they may have been repositioned. Original page numbers in the index have been retained (except for thetypo correction on page 266 ("Ostrich", see above). Html links navigateto a page anchor for the given page number unless the indexed content hasbeen displaced by the repositioning of illustrations. In such cases, thelinks have been edited to navigate directly to the indexed content.