greyhounds, which modern art may have imitated, but has not equalled, much less excelled.

In ancient writers, many of whose relations are however to be received with considerable abatements and qualifications, it is surprising how great a number of instances are recorded of the sagacity, courage, and fidelity of the dog, many of which are almost identical with modern anecdotes of the same animal. In the Odyssey, the discovery of Ulysses after his long absence, by his old and faithful dog Argus, is beautifully related; and in "Old Mortality," the production of that mighty modern, Sir Walter Scott, the circumstance of Henry Morton, on his visit to Alice Wilson, being recognised by the dog, is most naturally and admirably introduced. A story is told of a dog presented to Alexander the Great which siezed a lion and retained his hold, though his four legs were cut off in succession. An anecdote, not widely different from this, is related by Goldsmith, of a person who betted a wager, and won it, that he would cut off the four legs of his dog which even in that condition would attack the bull. In Plutarch there is an account of the discovery of a murder, in consequence of the dog of the person killed attacking the murderer, in a manner similar to what is related by Montfaucon and others, of the dog of Aubri de Montedidier seizing his assassin, the Chevalier Macaire. The principal facts of this latter event are well known to the British public from the dramatic piece called the "Forest of Bondy," so frequently represented, a few years ago, on almost every stage in the kingdom. A dog belonging to Eupolis, the poet, was famed for his sagacity and attachment to his master. Having one day observed a dishonest servant taking his master's money, he flew upon him and killed him; and the same dog, on his master's decease, was so much affected that he refused all food, and was found dead upon his master's tomb. Euripides the tragic writer, when residing at the court of Archelaus, king of Macedonia, was discovered in one of his solitary walks by the dogs of that monarch on their return from the chase, and torn in pieces by them before he could receive assistance Aelian relates that one of the dogs of Archelaus having strayed into Thrace was there killed by the people, which coming to the knowledge of the king he imposed a fine upon them and threatened them with his displeasure. The Thracians, knowing the influence of Euripides with the king, endeavoured to appease his anger through the poet's mediation, and the dogs, as if aware of his agency in excusing the fault of the Thracians, tore him in pieces through revenge. It is related as more probable, that they were set on by two poets who were jealous of his fame. Heraclitus, the crying philosopher, having reduced himself so much in consequence of his austerities that a dropsy ensued, endeavoured to effect a cure by rubbing his body with suet and exposing himself on a dunghill to the warmth of the

sun.

He was discovered one day while enjoying his usual siesta by a number of dogs, "which tore him to pieces," says an ancient writer, "for the sake of the fat." A memorable warning through all time for greasy people to avoid the presence of a pack of hounds. The works of Roman authors, both in poetry and prose, abound with allusions to the dog, and in particular the writings of Martial, who appears to have been a great admirer of the species, for he never writes with greater ease than when he is recording their praises.

The dogs of Britain have been celebrated from an early period. The ancient Britons, it appears, employed them in war; and British dogs*, probably of the species now called bull-dogs, were in great repute at Rome on account of their courage, and were matched against wild beasts in the amphitheatre. Gratius, Oppian, and Nemesian, ancient writers who have treated on the chase, speak of British dogs as excellent in hunting; though translators and commentators, whose only knowledge of the animal seems to have been derived from their lexicons, have rendered it extremely doubtful in their explanations what kind of dog is meant. Oppian, who gives rather a particular description of them, says they are called by the natives “ Agasæos," and upon this word the learned pack open, and the dogs meant are pronounced to be Gaze-hounds. Gaze, from "Agasæos," an excellent derivation truly; but until some sedentary commentators introduced the term, who ever heard of the Gaze-hound, or could tell, after they had coined it, what kind of dog was meant? It is a grey-hound, says one; another as confidentially informs us that it is a beagle; and a third declares it to be a lurcher; though any person of plain sense, and not encumbered with an ass's load of learning, may perceive that the description applies to none of those breeds.

From the brief character which Gratius, who lived in the Augustan age, gives of the British dog, it is highly probable that he means the same kind as that more fully described by Oppian. The latter author lived in the reign of Caracalla, who is said to have been a great admirer of his works, and to have been so much pleased with his "Cynegetica," or the Chase, as to give him a piece of gold for every line. Caracalla, who was a lover of the chase, spent several years in Britain, where he would have frequent opportunities of judging of the excellence of those dogs; and it is not unlikely that he might bring some of them with him upon his return to Rome, from which Oppian might take his description. The poet speaks of them thust: "There is, besides, an excellent kind of scenting-dogs, though small, yet worthy of estimation. They are bred by the fierce nation of painted Britons, who call them Agasæos. In size they resemble worthless greedy house-dogs that gape * Vide Strabo, Geog. 305.

+ Oppian, Cynegetica, Lib. I. vers. 468-480,

under tables. They are crooked, lean, coarse-haired, and heavyeyed, but armed with powerful claws and deadly teeth. The Agasæus is of good nose, and most excellent in following a scent.'

Gratius says of British dogs, that they have no pretensions to the deceitful commendation of form, but at the time of need when courage is required, the most excellent mastiffs are not to be preferred to them. Nemesian, who lived about eighty years after Oppian, and wrote upon the same subject, calls the dogs of Britain "veloces”—fleet—a character which does not apply to those mentioned by the two former writers; but this author is of no authority, for his work bears evidence of being a mere hearsay compilation, strung together in very indifferent verse. If we bear in mind the animals, the wolf and the wild boar, which were the chief objects of the Roman chase, and look at Gratius comparing British dogs for their courage with mastiffs, together with Oppian's description of their sullen eyes, short, meagre body, (which is more obvious from the size of the head), and powerful jaws, it seems highly probable that the animal meant was a bull-dog, for the excellence of which our island excels every other country.

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There is a dog called Vertragus*, or Vertagus, by Latin authors, for which etymological acuteness has found a name, at least, among British dogs; the thing, when this important discovery is made, with knowing and learned men always follows of course. As there is some resemblance in the word (though plainly not a Latin one) to "Vertigo"-a whirling or turning round- —we are told that the dog is a Tumbler," and that he amuses his prey by "tumbling" until he comes near enough to seize it. The absurdity of this account is only to be equalled by the simplicity of writers who have admitted it into their works without note or observation, for it is to be found in almost every publication treating of dogs, from the time of Queen Elizabeth, when the gaze-hound was also discovered, to the present day. Those who place any reliance in such ridiculous and unfounded descriptions, may as well receive in perfect good faith the account of a breed of watch-dogs, whose vigilance was such, that they were accustomed to sleep with one eye open. After the description of the "Tumbler," one is almost led to suspect that the old fowling maxim that teaches "how alle manere of birdes, bothe of the lande and water, may bee taken by sliely puttyng a lyttle salte upon theire tayles," had been originally communicated and received as a secret worth knowing.

The molossus, or mastiff, of antiquity, as seen in ancient sculptures,

Vertragus or vertagus, Vlitius, in his notes on the Cynegitica of Gratius, derives this word from the low Dutch, Velt-a field or open country; and Brack or Racha, a dog. If this etymology be correct, the vertagus was probably a kind of greyhound, which is chiefly used in the open country.

bears not much resemblance, except in point of size, to the dog known at present in Britain by that name, but is almost identical in form and appearance with the Alpine mastiff, a breed which is so usefully employed by the monks of St. Bernard, to afford assistance to the stormbewildered traveller of the Alps. The hunting dog is mostly represented with a somewhat sharp muzzle, large jaws, ears rather pointed, and body rather thin, with strong muscular legs; and altogether like what might be supposed to be the produce of the fox-hound and the Irish greyhound. A dog of this description, with the molossus and greyhound, is of most frequent occurrence on ancient marbles and vases; where, so far as the writer's observation extends, the bull-dog, the lurcher, the terrier, and the modern shepherd's dog, are never to be seen. The character of dogs, whose names are derived from the service which they are employed in, is constantly changing with circumstances and the varying state of society. The shepherd's dog of antiquity, which had to guard the flock from the wolf, was remarkable for its fierceness and strength, and bore no more resemblance to the modern shepherd's dog of this country than a fox-hound does to a turn-spit; and as the labours of the last variety are superseded by the smoke-jack, (another instance of the progress of machinery), the cook's canine assistant is likely in future to be remembered only from the name.

SPANIEL AND DEAD GAME.

Engraved by E. HACKER, from a Painting by A. D. Cooper. THE painter of this subject is the son of A. Cooper, R. A., and this, we believe, is the young artist's maiden plate. We trust that in the pictorial course he will prove a frequent winner, and in time distinguish himself no less than his talented father, whose reputation has been fairly earned and will wear well.

The picture, which was exhibited at the Royal Academy last year, is very cleverly composed, and the head of the spaniel is, in particular, well painted. Though the subject be entitled "Spaniel and Dead Game," yet our readers are not to suppose we therefore mean that every individual of the feathered tribe seen in the engraving is game according to Act of Parliament, and such as only may be killed by parties having a special licence and properly qualified. In the group, in front, is a water-hen, which is not game according to the comprehensive manual which a gentleman shortly after his elevation to the bench-at Quarter Sessions-once wrote for to his bookseller under the title of, "Ax for a gustus of the peas*." The woodcock, we believe, was first included in the list of game-that is if shot-by Mr. Percival, in 1808.

Acts for a Justice of the Peace.