he gave a loud whistle, and the dogs came running to him from their several hiding-places!

Peltier, in his Annals of Paris, No. 164, for December, 1798, records the following anecdote :-At the beginning of the Revolution, a dog went daily to the parade before the palace of the Thuilleries, thrust himself between the legs of the musicians, marched with them, halted with them, and after the parade, disappeared until the next morning, when he resumed his occupation. The constant appearance of this dog, and the pleasure which he seemed to take in the music, made him a favourite with the band, who nicknamed him, Parade. One gave him food to-day, another to-morrow; and he understood, by a slight signal, and a word or two, whom he was to follow for his dinner; after which, faithful to his independence, the dog always withdrew, in spite of any caresses or threats. Sometimes he went to the opera, sometimes to the Comedie Italienne, and sometimes to the Theatre Feydeau; in each of which houses he found his way to the orchestra, and would lie down silently in one corner of it, until the performance was over. "I know not, (says Peltier) whether this dog be now alive but I know many musicians, to whom his name, his figure, and the singularity of his habits, are perfectly familiar."

In Petit's Campaign of Italy, under the chief consul Buonaparte, published in 1800, we have the following anecdote, which places this animal in the most engaging light: "In traversing the Alps over the mountain Great St. Bernard, many people perish among the almost inaccessible rocks, whose summits are covered with eternal snow. At the time we crossed them, the chapel of the monastery of St. Bernard was filled with dead bodies, which their dogs had discovered suffocated and benumbed under the snow. With what emotions of pleasure did I caress these dogs, so useful to travellers! how can one speak of them without being moved by their charitable instinct! Notwithstanding the paucity of our eatables, there was not a French soldier who did not manifest an eagerness to give them some biscuit, some bread, and even a share of their meat. Morning and evening, these dogs go out on discovery; and if in the midst of their wandering courses the echo of some unfortunate creature ready to perish reaches their attentive ears, they run towards those who call out, express their joy, and seem to bid the sufferer take courage, till they have been to procure assistance; in fact, they hasten back to the convent, and, with an air of inquietude and sadness, announce in a very discernible manner what they have seen. In that case, a small basket is fastened round the dog's neck, filled with food proper for re-animating life almost exhausted; and, by following the benevolent mes

senger, an unhappy creature is thus frequently snatched from impending destruction."

A Florentine nobleman possessed a dog, v hich would attend his table, change his plates, and carry his wine to him, with the utmost steadiness, and the most accurate attention to his master's notices.

It is related by the illustrious Leibnitz, that a Saxon peasant was in possession of a dog of the middling size, then about three years of age. The peasant's son, perceiving accidentally, as he imagined, some resemblance in its sounds to those of the human voice, attempted to teach it to speak. By the perseverance of the lad, the dog acquired the power, we are told, of pronouncing about thirty words. It would, however, exercise this extraordinary faculty only with reluctance, the words being always first spoken by the preceptor, and then echoed by the pupil. This circumstance is attested by Leibnitz, who himself heard it speak; and it was communicated by him in a memoir to the Royal Academy of France.

In the theatre of Marcellus, a case occurred, which many will consider more probable, but which is almost as extraordinary, as mentioned by Plutarch." A dog was here exhibited which excelled in various dances of great complication and difficulty, and represented also the effects of disease and pain upon the frame, in all the contortions of countenance and writhings of the body, from the first access, to that paroxysm which often immediately precedes dissolution. Having thus apparently expired in agony, he would suffer himself to be carried about motionless, as in a state of death; and after a sufficient continuance of the jest, he would burst upon the spectators with an animation and sportiveness, which formed a very interesting conclusion of this curious interlude, by which the animal seemed to enjoy the success of his scenic efforts, and to be delighted with the admiration which was liberally and universally bestowed upon him."

"A tinker (says Pezelius) brought a wonderful dog to Constantinople; and a number of people being assembled to behold him, many of them laid their rings in a heap confusedly before him. At the command of his master, he would restore to every man his own, without any mistake. Also, when his master asked him which of the company was a captain, which a poor man, which a wife, which a widow, and the like, he would discover all this without error, by taking the garment of the party inquired after in his mouth."

J

CHAP. XVI.

CURIOSITIES RESPECTING FISHES.

The Frog fish-Bird-catching Fish-The Nautilus-The Airbladder in Fishes-Respiration in Fishes-Shower of Fishes.

In countless myriads cleave the crystal flood."

"Who can old Ocean's pathless bed explore,

And count her tribes that people ev'ry shore."

THE FROG-FISH.-There is a very singular animal of Surinam, bearing this name, of which a figure is given by Mr. Edwards, in his History of Birds, vol. I. but of which no specimen is to be found either in the British Museum, or in any private collection, except that of Dr. Fothergill. It was brought from Surinam, in South America.

Frogs, both in Asia and Africa, according to Merian, change gradually from fishes to frogs, as those in Europe; but after many years, revert again into fishes, though the manner of their change has never been investigated. In Surinam these fishes are called Jakjes: they are cartilaginous, of a substance like our mustela, and exquisite food; they are formed with regular vertebræ, and small bones all over the body, divided into equal parts; are first darkish, and then gray; and their scales make a beautiful appearance. Whether this animal is, in its perfect state, a species of frog with a tail, or a kind of water-lizard, Mr. Edwards does not pretend to determine; but he observes, that when its size is considered, if it should be deemed a tadpole, at first produced from spawn, and in its progress towards a frog, such an animal, when full-grown; if it bears the same proportion to its tadpole state that those in Europe do to theirs, it must be of enormous size; for our fullgrown frogs exceed the tadpoles at least fifty times.

Another curiosity is, THE BIRD-CATCHING FISH.-This fish is called by the natives of Canada, Chaousaron; its body is nearly the shape of a jack or pike, but is covered with scales that are proof against the stab of a dagger; its colour is a silver gray, and there grows under its mouth a fin that is flat, jagged at the edges, and pierced at the end, which gives reason to conjecture that it breathes by that part. This fish is about five feet in length, and as thick as a man's thigh; but some of them, it is said, are eight or ten feet long. In order to catch birds, it hides itself among the reeds in such a manner, that no part of it can be seen but the fin just mentioned; this

it erects upright out of the water, and birds that want to rest themselves, take this fin for a reed, or a dry piece of wood; ut no sooner have they alighted on it, than the fish opens his mouth, and makes such a quick motion to seize its prev, that it seldom escapes.

Another curious object is, THE NAUTILUS.

Learn of the little Nautilus to sail,

Spread the thin oar, and catch the driving gale. Pope.

The shell of this animal consists of one spiral valve, divided into several apartments. There are seventeen species, chiefly distinguished by peculiarities in their shells.

The most remarkable division of the Nautilus is into the thin and thick-shelled kinds. The first is called Nautilus Papyraceus; and its shell is indeed no thicker than a piece of paper, when out of the water. This species is not at all fastened to its shell; but there is an opinion, as old as the days of Pliny, that this creature creeps out of its shell, and goes on shore to feed. When this species is to sail, it expands two of its arms on high, and between these supports a membrane, which it throws out on this occasion: this serves for its sail, and the two other arms it hangs out of its shell, to serve occasionally either as oars or as a steerage; but this last office is generally served by the tail. When the sea is calm, numbers of these creatures may frequently be seen diverting themselves in this manner, in the Mediterranean: but as soon as a storm rises, or any thing gives them disturbance, they draw in their legs, and take in as much water as makes them specifically heavier than that in which they float; and then they sink to the bottom. When they rise again, they void this water by a number of holes, of which their legs are full.

The other nautilus, whose shell is thick, never quits its habitation. This shell is divided into forty or more partitions, which grow smaller and smaller as they approach the extremity or centre of the shell: between each of these cells there is a communication by means of a hole in the centre of the partitions. Through this hole there runs a pipe, of the whole length of the shell. It is supposed by many, that by means of this pipe the fish occasionally passes from one cell to another; but this seems by no means probable, as the fish must undoubtedly be crushed to death by attempting to pass through it. It is much more likely that the fish always occupies the largest chamber in its shell; that is, that it lives in the cavity between the mouth and the first partition, and that it never removes out of this; but that all the apparatus of cells, and a pipe of communication, which we so much admire, serve

only to admit occasionally air or water into the shell, in such proportion as may serve the creature in its intentions of swimming.

Some authors call this shell the concha margaritifera: but this can be only on account of the fine colour on its inside, which is more beautiful than any other mother-of-pearl; for it has not been observed than this species of fish ever produced pearls.

It must be observed, that the polypus is by no means to be confounded with the paper-shelled nautilus, notwithstanding the great resemblance in the arms and body of the inclosed fish; nor is the cornu ammonis, so frequently found fossil, to be confounded with the thick-shelled nautilus, though the concamerations and general structure of the shell are alike in both for there are great and essential differences between all these genera. There is a pretty copious and minute account of this curious animal in the Gentleman's Magazine, vol. xxii. p. 6, 7, 8, and 301, and vol. xxv. p. 128.

We now proceed to describe that destructive inhabitant of the mighty deep, THE SHARK.-Sharks, though voracious creatures, are seldom destructive in the temperate regions; it is in the torrid zone that their ravages are most frequent. In the West Indies, accidents happen from them daily. During the American war in 1780, while the Pallas frigate was lying in Kingston harbour, a young North American jumped overboard one evening, to make his escape, and perished by a shark in a shocking manner. He had been captured in a small vessel, lost all his property, and was detained by compulsion in the English navy, to serve in a predatory war against his country. But he, animated with that spirit which pervaded every bosom in America, resolved, as soon as he arrived at some port, to release himself from the mortifying state of employing his life against his country, which, as he said when dying, he was happy to lay down, as he could not employ it against her enemies. He plunged into the water: the Pallas was a quarter of a mile from the shore. A shark perceived him, and followed him very quietly, till he came near the shore; where, as he was hanging by a rope that moored a vessel to a wharf, scarcely out of his depth, the shark seized his right leg, stripped the flesh entirely from the bon, and took the foot off at the ancle. He still kept his hold, and called to the people in the vessel near him, who were standing on the deck, and saw the affair. The shark then seized his other leg, which the man by his struggling disengaged from his teeth, but with the flesh cut through down to the bone, into a multitude of narrow slips. The people in the vessel threw billets of wood into the water, and