This dog's case is a very curious one, and the attendant phenomena not very easy of explanation. From the animal's power of discerning the correctness of musical composition, as well as of execution, one would be inclined to imagine that Mr. S——, in training his dog, had only called into play faculties existing (but latent) before, and that dogs have in them the natural germs of a fine musical ear. This seems more likely to be the case, than that the animal's perfect musical taste was wholly an acquirement, resulting from the training. However this may be, the Darmstadt dog is certainly a marvellous creature, and we are surprised that, in these exhibiting times, its powers have not been displayed on a wider stage. The operatic establishments of London and Paris might be greatly the better, perhaps, for a visit from the critical Poodle.
It is now settled, as a philosophical question, that the instruction communicated to dogs, as well as various other animals, has an hereditary effect on the progeny. If a dog be taught to perform certain feats, the young of that dog will be much easier initiated in the same feats than other dogs. Thus, the existing races of English pointers are greatly more accomplished in their required duties than the original race of Spanish pointers. Dogs of the St. Bernard variety inherit the faculty of tracking footsteps in the snow. A gentleman of our acquaintance, and of scientific acquirements, obtained some years ago a pup, which had been produced in London by a female of the celebrated St. Bernard breed. The young animal was brought to Scotland, where it was never observed to give any particular tokens of a power of tracking footsteps until winter, when the ground became covered with snow. It then showed the most active inclination to follow footsteps; and so great was its power of doing so under these circumstances, that, when its master had crossed a field in the most curvilinear way, and caused other persons to cross his path in all directions, it nevertheless followed his course with the greatest precision. Here was a perfect revival of the habit of its Alpine fathers, with a degree of specialty as to external conditions at which, it seems to us, we cannot sufficiently wonder.
Such are some of the qualities of dogs in a state of domestication, and let me hope that the anecdotes related of them will tend to insure for them that love and gratitude to which their own fine disposition and noble character give them a claim from us.
It is pleasing to observe that men of the highest acquirements and most elevated minds have bestowed their sincere attachment upon their favourite canine companions; for kindness to animals is, perhaps, as strong an indication of the possession of generous sentiments as any that can be adduced. The late Lord Grenville, a distinguished statesman, an elegant scholar, and an amiable man, affords an illustration of the opinion: It is thus that he eloquently makes his favourite Zephyr speak:—
"Captum oculis, senioque hebetem, morboque gravatum,
Dulcis here, antiquo me quod amore foves,
Suave habet et carum Zephyrus tuus, et leviore
Se sentit mortis conditione premi.
Interiêre quidem, tibi quæ placuisse solebant,
Et formæ dotes, et facile ingenium:
Deficiunt sensus, tremulæ scintillula vitæ
Vix micat, in cinerem mox abitura brevem.
Sola manet, vetuli tibi nec despecta ministri,
Mens grata, ipsaque in morte memor domini.
Hanc tu igitur, pro blanditiis mollique lepore,
Et prompta ad nutus sedulitate tuos,
Pro saltu cursuque levi, lusuque protervo,
Hanc nostri extremum pignus amoris habe.
Jamque vale! Elysii subeo loca læta, piorum
Quæ dat Persephone manibus esse canum."
In the previous pages I have endeavoured to give my readers some idea of the general character of the dog, and I will now proceed to illustrate it more fully by anecdotes peculiar to different breeds. These animals will then be found to deserve the encomiums bestowed upon them by Buffon, "as possessing such an ardour of sentiment, with fidelity and constancy in their affection, that neither ambition, interest, nor desire of revenge, can corrupt them, and that they have no fear but that of displeasing. They are, in fact, all zeal, ardour, and obedience. More inclined to remember benefits than injuries; more docile and tractable than any other animal, the dog is not only instructed, but conforms himself to the manners, movements, and habits of those who govern him. He is always eager to obey his master, and will defend his property at the risk of his own life." Pope says, that history is more full of examples of fidelity in the dog than in friends; and Lord Byron characterises him as—
"in life the firmest friend,
The first to welcome, foremost to defend;
Whose honest heart is still his master's own;
Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone;"
and truly indeed may he be called
"The rich man's guardian, and the poor man's friend."