that this fact were better ascertained; we should then know to a certainty in what degree the dog and wolf resemble each other, as well in nature as in conformation; we might then, perhaps, be enabled to improve the breed of our dogs, by bringing them back to their native forms and instincts; we might, by crossing the strain, restore that race of those bold animals, which the ancients assure us were more than a match for the lion."

However this animal may be useful in North America, the wolf of Europe is a very noxious animal, and scarce any thing belonging to him is good, except his skin. Of this the furriers make a covering that is warm and durable, though coarse and unsightly. His flesh is very indifferent, and seems to be disliked by all other animals, no other creature being known to eat the wolf's flesh, except the wolf himself. He breathes a inost foetid vapour from his jaws, as his food is indiscriminate, often putrid, and seldom cleanly. In short, every way offensive, a savage aspect, a frightful howl, an insupportable odour, a perverse disposition, fierce habits, he is hateful while living, and useless when dead.*

THE FOX.-The fox very exactly resembles the wolf and the dog internally; and, although he differs greatly from both in size and carriage, yet when we come to examine his shapes minutely, there will appear to be very little difference in the description. Were, for instance, a painter to draw from a natural historian's exactest description the figure of a dog, a wolf, and a fox, without having ever seen either, he would be very apt to confound all these animals together; or rather he would be unable to catch those peculiar outlines that no description can supply.

:

The fox is of a slenderer make than the wolf, and not near so large for as the former is above three feet and a half long, so the other is not above two feet three inches. The tail of the fox also is longer in proportion, and more bushy; its nose is smaller, and approaching more nearly to that of the grey-hound, and its hair softer. On the other hand, it differs from the dog in having its eyes obliquely situated, like those of the wolf; its ears are directed also in the same manner as those of the wolf, and its head is equally large in proportion to its size. It differs still more from the dog in its strong, offensive smell, which is peculiar to the species, and often the cause of their death. However, some are ignorantly of opinion that it will keep off infectious diseases, and they preserve this animal near their habitations for that very purpose.

The fox has since the beginning been famous for his cunning and his arts, and he partly merits his reputation. (g) Without attempting to oppose either the dogs or the shepherds, without attacking the flock, or alarming the village, he finds an easier way to subsist, and gains by his address what is denied to his strength or courage. Patient and prudent, he waits the opportunity of depredation, and varies his conduct with every occasion. His whole study is his preservation; although nearly as indefatigable, and actually more swift than the wolf, he does not entirely trust to either, but makes himself an asylum, to

MADNESS.-The wolf is sometimes affected with madness, in symptoms and conequences exactly similar to that which affects the dog. This disease, as it happens to them in the depth of winter. cannot be attributed to the great heat of the dog days. In the northern parts of the world, they frequently in the spring get upon the fields of ice adjoining

the sea, for the purpose of preying upon young seals, which they there find asleep; but vast pieces of the ice occasionally detaching itself from the mass, they are carried with it to a great distance from the land, where they perish, amidst the most hideous and dreadful howlings.

(g) Buffon, Rénard,

which he retires in case of necessity, where he shelters himself from danger, and brings up his young.

As among men, those who lead a domestic life are more civilized, and more endued with wisdom, than those who wander from place to place, so, in the inferior ranks of animated nature, the taking possession of a home supposes a degree of instinct which others are without.(g) The choice of the situation for this domicile, the art of making it convenient, of hiding its entrance, and securing it against more powerful animals, are all so many marks of superior skill and industry. The fox is furnished with both, and turns them to his advantage. He generally keeps his kennel at the edge of the wood, and yet within an easy journey of some neighbouring cottage. From thence he listens to the crowing of the cock, and the cackling of the domestic fowls. He scents them at a dis tance; he seizes his opportunity, conceals his approaches, creeps slyly along, makes the attack, and seldom returns without his booty. If he be able to get into the yard, he begins by levelling all the poultry without remorse, and carrying off part of the spoil, hides it at some convenient distance, and again returns to the charge. Taking off another fowl in the same manner, he hides that also, but not in the same place; and this he practises for several times together, until the approach of day, or the noise of the domestics, give him warning to retire. The same arts are practised when he finds birds entangled in springes laid for them by the fowler; the fox takes care to be beforehand, very expertly takes the bird out of the snare, hides it for three or four days, and knows very exactly when and where to return to avail himself of the hidden treasure. He is equally alert in seizing the young hares and rabbits, before they have strength enough to escape him; and when the old ones are wounded and fatigued, he is sure to come upon them in their moments of distress, and to show them no mercy. In the same manner he finds out birds' nests, seizes the partridge and the quail while sitting, and destroys a large quantity of game. The wolf is most hurtful to the peasant, but the fox to the gentleman. In short, nothing that can be eaten seems to come amiss; rats, mice, serpents toads, and lizards. He will, when urged by hunger, eat vegetables and insects; and those that live near the sea-coasts will, for want of other food, eat crabs, shrimps, and shell-fish. The hedge-hog in vain rolls itself up into a ball to oppose him; this determined glutton teases it until it is obliged to appear uncovered, and then he devours it. The wasp and the wild bee are attacked with equal success. Although at first they fly out upon their invader, and actually oblige him to retire, this is but for a few minutes, until he has rolled himself upon the ground, and thus crushed such as stick to his skin; he then returns to the charge, and at last, by perseverance, obliges them to abandon their combs, which he greedily devours, both wax and honey.

The chase of the fox requires less preparation than that of the wolf, and it is also more pleasant and amusing. He is usually pursued by a large kind of harrier or hound, assisted by terriers, or a smaller breed, that follow him into his kennel, and attack him there. The instant he perceives himself pursued, he makes to his kennel, and takes refuge at the bottom of it, where for awhile he loses the cry of his enemies; but the whole pack coming to the mouth, redouble their vehemence and rage, and the little terrier boldly ventures in. It often happens that the kennel is made under a rock, or among the roots of old trees; and in such cases the fox cannot be dug out, nor is the terrier able to contend with him at the bottom of his hole. By this contrivance he continues secure; but when he can be dug out, the usual way is to carry him in a bag to some open country, and there set him loose before the hounds. The hounds and the men follow, barking and shouting wherever he runs; and the body being strongly employed, the mind has not time to make any reflection on the futility of the pursuit. What adds to this entertainment is the strong scent which the fox leaves, that always keeps up a full cry; although as his scent is stronger than that of the hare, it is much sooner evaporated. His shifts to escape when all retreat is cut off to his kennel

(g) Buffon, Rénard.

are various and surprising. He always chooses the most woody country, and takes those paths that are most embarrassed with thorns and briars. He does not double, nor use the unavailing shifts of the hare; but flies in a direct line before the hounds, though at no very great distance; manages his strength: takes to the low and plashy grounds, where the scent will be less apt to lie; and at last, when overtaken, he defends himself with desperate obstinacy, and fights in silence to the very last gasp.*

The fox, though resembling the dog in many respects, is nevertheless very distinct in his nature, refusing to engender with it; and though not testifying the antipathy of the wolf, yet discovering nothing more than indifference. This animal also brings forth fewer at a time than the dog, and that but once a year. Its litter is generally from four to six, and seldom less than three. The female goes with young about six weeks, and seldom stirs out while pregnant, but makes a bed for her young, and takes every precaution to prepare for their production. When she finds the place of their retreat discovered, and that her young have been disturbed during her absence, she removes them one after the other in her mouth, and endeavours to find them out a place of better security. A remarkable instance of this animal's parental affection happened while I was writing this history, in the county of Essex. A she-fox that had, as it should seem, but one cub, was unkennelled by a gentleman's hounds, near Chelmsford, and hotly pursued. In such a case, when her own life was in imminent peril, one would think it was not a time to consult the safety of her young; however, the poor animal, braving every danger, rather than leave her cub behind to be worried by the dogs, took it up in her mouth, and ran with it in this manner for some miles. At last, taking her way through a farmer's yard, she was assaulted by a mastiff, and at last obliged to drop her cub, which was taken up by the farmer. I was not displeased to hear that this faithful creature escaped the pursuit, and at last got ott n safety. The cubs of the fox are born blind, like those of the dog; they are eighteen months or two years in coming to perfection, and live about twelve or fourteen years.

As the fox makes war upon all animals, so all others seem to make war upon him. The dog hunts him with peculiar acrimony; the wolf is still a greater

FOX-HUNTING IN ENGLAND.- Fox-hunting has been long a fashionable field diversion. Hunting fox or hare, was scarce ever so vigorously pursued as at the present period, and there are consequently an immense number of packs in England. The greater part of the country is admirably calculated for this species of sport, the midland counties in particular. A great portion of the mountainous parts of the northern counties is not calcu lated for fox-hunting in the regular way: but as they make considerable havock among the sheep, the shepherds destroy them as opportunities offer. There are many establishments for fox hunting in Ireland; and in the Lowlands of Scotland kennels of fox-hounds are to be met with; but much of the Lowlands is ill-adapted for the diversion, while the Highlands are altogether out of the question, except in the manner adopted by the inhabi. tants. Throughout the Highlands, foxes are to be found in greater numbers than is consistent with the safety of the sheep flocks. The Highlanders, whenever they discover the retreat of the wily reynard, in an accessible situation, immediately assail him; he is driven from his hole by a terrier, and, if possible, worried on the spot by a stout, rough greyound, assisted, perhaps, by several curs.---ED.

The pleasure of the pursuit is well set forth in the spirit-stirring song, "The Dawn of Day," by Robert Bloomfield, the Farmer's Boy. Many a morning does these strains ring over the lea, and "crack the welkin.”

The grey eye of morning was dear to my youth,
When I sprang like the roe from my bed,
With the glow of the passions, the feelings of truth,
And the light hand of Time on my head.
For then 'twas my maxim through life to be free,
And to sport my short moments away:
The ery of the hounds was music for me,
My glory-the dawn of the day.

In yellow-leaved autumn, the haze of the morn
Gave promise of rapture to come;
The melody woke in the sound of the horn,
As we cheer'd the old fox from his home;
The breeze and the shout met the sun's ea.ly beam,
With the village response in full play:
All vigour, my steed leapt the fence or the stream,
And was foremost at dawn of the day.

The well-timed halloo that shook the green wood,
And arrested the ploughman's gay song,
Gave nerve to the hunters, and fire to the blood
Of the hounds as they bounded along.

And shall I relinquish the joy of my heart,
While years with my strength roll away?
Hark! the horn-bring my horse-see, they're ready
Tallyho! at the dawning of day.

to start;

and more necessitous enemy, who pursues him to his very retreat. Some pretend to say that, to keep the wolf away, the fox lays at the mouth of its kennel a certain herb, to which the wolf has a particular aversion. This, which no doubt is a fable, at least shows that these two animals are as much enemies to each other as to all the rest of animated nature. But the fox is not hunted by quadrupeds alone; for the birds, who know him for their mortal enemy, attend him in his excursions, and give each other warning of their approaching danger. The daw, the magpie, and the black-bird conduct him along, perching on the hedges as he creeps below, and, with their cries and notes of hostility, apprize all other animals to beware: a caution which they perfectly understand, and put into practice. The hunters themselves are often informed by the birds of the place of his retreat, and set the dogs into those thickets where they see them particularly noisy and querulous. So that it is the fate of this petty plunderer to be detested by every rank of animals; all the weaker classes shun, and all the stronger pursue him.

The fox, of all wild animals, is most subject to the influence of climate; and there are found as many varieties in this kind almost as in any of the domestic animals.(g) The generality of foxes, as is well known, are red; but there are some, though not in England, of a greyish cast; and Buffon asserts that the tip of the tail in all foxes is white; which, however, is not so in those of this country.

In the colder countries

round the pole, the foxes are of all colours: black, blue, grey, iron-grey, silvergrey, white, white with red legs, white with

black heads, white with the tip of the tail black, red with the throat and belly entirely white, and lastly with a stripe of black running along the back, and another crossing it at the shoulders.(g) The common kind, however, is more universally diffused than any of the former, being found in Europe, in the temperate climates of Asia, and also in America; they are very rare in Africa, and in the countries lying under the torrid zone.*

(Silver Fox.)

THE FENNECUS CERDO.- This beautiful and extraordinary animal, or at least one of its genus, was first made known to European naturalists by Bruce, who received it from his dragoman, whilst consul general at Algiers. It is frequently met with in the date territories of Africa, where the animals are hunted for their skins, which are afterwards sold at Mecca, and then exported to India. Bruce kept his animal alive for several months, and took a drawing of it in water colours, of the natural size, a copy of which, (g) Ibid.

THE JACKAL.-The jackal is one of the commonest wild animals in the East; and yet there is scarce any less known in Europe, or more confusedly described by natural historians. In general we are assured that it resembles the fox in figure and disposition, but we are still ignorant of those nice distinctions by which it is known to be of a different species.

The species of the jackal is diffused all over Asia, and is found also in most parts of Africa, seeming to take up the place of the wolf, which in those countries is not so common. There seems to be many varieties among them; those of the warmest climates appear to be the largest, and their colour is rather of a reddish brown than of that beautiful yellow by which the smaller jackals are chiefly distinguished.

(Jackal.)

Although the species of the wolf approaches very near to that of the dog, yet the jackal seems to be placed between them; to the savage fierceness of the wolf it adds the impudent familiarity of the dog.(g) Its cry is a howl, mixed with barking, and a lamentation resembling that of human distress. It is more noisy in its pursuits even than the dog, and more voracious than the wolf. The jackal never goes alone, but always in a pack of forty or fifty together. These unite regularly every day, to form a combination against the rest of the forest. Nothing then can escape them; they are content to take up with the smallest animals and yet, when thus united, they have courage to face the largest. They seem very little afraid of mankind; but pursue their game to the very doors, without testifying either attachment or apprehension. They enter insolently into the sheep-folds, the yards, and the stables, and, when they can find nothing else, devour the leather harness, boots, and shoes, and run off with what they had not time to swallow.

They not only attack the living but the dead. They scratch up with their feet the new-made graves, and devour the corpse how putrid soever. In those countries therefore, where they abound, they are obliged to beat the earth over

on transparent paper, was clandestinely made by his servant. Mr. Brander, into whose hands the Fennecus fell after Bruce left Algiers, gave an account of it in "Some Swedish Transactions," but refused to let the figure be published, the drawing having been unfairly obtained. Bruce asserts that this animal is described in many Arabian books, under the name of El Fennec, which appellation he conceives to be derived from the Greek word for a palm or date-tree.

The favourite food of Bruce's Fennec was dates or any sweet fruit; but it was also very fond of eggs; when hungry it would eat bread, especially with honey or sugar. His attention was immediately attracted if a bird flew near him, and he would watch it with an eagerness that could hardly be diverted from its object; but he was dreadfully afraid of a cat. Bruce never heard that he had any voice. During the day he was inclined to sleep, but became restless and ex

ceedingly unquiet as night came on. The above Fennec was about ten inches long, the tail five inches and a quarter, near an inch of it on the tip, black. The colour of the body was dirty white, bordering on cream colour; the hair on the belly rather whiter, softer, and longer than on the rest of the body. His look was sly and wily; he built his nest on trees, and did not burrow in the earth.

Naturalists, especially those of France, were long induced to suspect the truth of Bruce's description of this animal; but a specimen from the interior of Nubia, and preserved in the museum at Franckfort, has recently been engraved; and thus the matter is nearly settled by the animal belonging to the genus Canis, and the sub-genus Vulpes; the number of teeth and form, being precisely the same as the fox, which it also resembles in its feet, number of toes, and form of tail.-MIRROR, VOL. X.

(g) Buffon, vol. xxvii. p. 52.