It is advisable to strengthen views of the history of our domesticated animals, so novel to most readers, by undisputed authority, and I therefore again quote the words of the great Comparative Anatomist.

My esteemed friend, Professor Bell, who has written the History of Existing British Quadrupeds,' is disposed to believe, with Cuvier and most other naturalists, that our domestic cattle are the degenerate descendants of the great Urus. But it seems to me more probable that the herds of the newly-conquered regions would be derived from the already domesticated cattle of the Roman colonists, of those "boves nostri," for example, by comparison with which Cæsar endeavoured to convey to his countrymen an idea of the stupendous and formidable Uri of the Hercynian forests.

"The taming of such species would be a much more difficult and less certain mode of supplying the exigencies of the agriculturist, than the importation of the breeds of oxen already domesticated, and in use by the founders of the new colonies. And, that the latter was the chief, if not sole source of the herds of England, when its soil began to be cultivated under the Roman sway, is strongly indicated by the analogy of modern colonies. The domestic cattle, for example, of the Anglo-Americans have not been derived from tamed descendants of the original wild cattle of North America: there, on the contrary, the Bison is fast disappearing before the advance of the agricultural settlers, just as the Aurochs, and its contemporary the Urus, have given way before a similar progress in Europe. With regard to the great Urus, I believe that this progress has caused its utter extirpation, and that our knowledge of it is now limited to the deductions from its fossil or semi-fossil remains."-P. 500.

We may here, perhaps, be permitted to look forward a little, and without being accused of extravagance, speculate on the future destiny of still surviving tribes of animals. If we take what has already occurred during "this present infancy of the human race," as any indica

tion of what must inevitably happen when the whole earth shall really by us be overspread, it is clear that all flesheating ravenous animals, except the smallest and most insignificant, must retire from the face of this planet; the Lion, the Tiger, the Puma, and the Jaguar, rivals to Man in their carnivorous propensities, must, as he becomes pressed for subsistence, yield their prey to him, and perish. Man must become the great dominant Carnivore; the butcher will fulfil the office of the Felidæ, in keeping the herbivorous races within due limits. And of them, those which obstinately refuse to enter the pale of human society, must eventually quit the scene where he plays the first part. Roebucks, Antelopes, and Bisons, will become evanescent.

But encroach as he will, Man cannot occupy the Seas. Myriads of free Oceanic creatures will defy both his powers of destruction and his yoke. And it is probable that the earliest representatives of the Vertebrata which preceded his reign, will be among the very last to yield to his exterminating influence.

The Common Cock, the Gallus Gallinaceus and 'AXÉкTwp of the ancients, would at first sight appear to have received one or two remarkable changes of form subsequent to its having been saved from annihilation by becoming dependant on the care of Man, if we can believe domestication to be capable of producing such changes. The crest of feathers on the head is an extraordinary metamorphosis to have occurred from an original fleshy comb. There is no instance, that I am aware, of any wild crested breed. Aristotle makes such a pointed and so clear a distinction between the feathered crests of birds in general, and the combs of Cocks, as to lead to a strong suspicion that he was unacquainted with Fowls with top-knots; which he could hardly have avoided seeing in the course of his unequalled opportunities for research, had they existed in his day.—"Ετι δὲ ἔνια ὀρνέων λόφον ἔχουσι, τὰ μὲν, αὐτῶν τῶν πτερῶν ἐπανεστηκότα· ὁ δέ ἀλεκτρυῶν μόνος ἴδιον, ὁ οὔτε σὰρξ ἔστιν, οὔτε πόῤῥω

σaρKos Tηy Quoшv.-" Certain birds have a crest; in some consisting of actual feathers: but that of Cocks alone is peculiar, being neither flesh, nor yet very different from flesh in its nature."-Hist. Anim., book ii., chap. xii., towards the end.

I can find no passage in the classical authors which implies that the Cocks and Hens of their day bore a feathered top-knot. The Latin crista is at least an ambiguous word. If it occasionally means a plumed crest like that of the Hoopoe, it is also most pointedly used for a fleshy comb. Pliny (lib. xxvii., c. xciii.) says, " Alectorolophus, (a plant) quæ apud nos crista dicitur, folia habet similia gallinacei cristæ.' "The Alectorolophus, which with us is called Crista, has leaves like a Cock's comb." This passage may not be considered conclusive; because although the Cockscomb is a remarkable and striking plant, he might intend to describe some other herb which bore tufts or tassels. But in describing the Phoenix (lib. x., chap. ii.), he mentions "cristis faucibus, caputque plumeo apice honestante," that "it is adorned with wattles (using the same word that he does to express the comb) on its throat, and a feathered top-knot on its head." But further on he puts the interpretation of the word beyond all doubt: Messalinus Cotta palmas pedum ex his (anseribus) torrere, atque patinis cum gallinaceorum cristis condire reperit." "Messalinus Cotta discovered the method of cooking the web of Geese's feet, and fricaseeing them in small dishes along with Cock's combs."Lib. x., c. xxvii. Not even the Romans would think a tuft of feathers any great delicacy; and a dish of Cock's combs is one of the few things in which modern taste coincides with theirs. The Latin crista must not, therefore, be translated by the English crest when it has reference to Cocks and Hens. Cirrus is the Latin word used by Pliny to denote the tuft of feathers on the head of certain Ducks (fuligula), and also properly adopted by Aldrovandi to express the top-knot of Polish Fowls. Theocritus calls the Cock Φοινικολόφον. We know something

about the red combs, but nothing of the red crests of Fowls.

There is a passage in Ælian, which at first sight would appear to contradict the notion that the ancients had no top-knotted fowls, but which, in fact, strongly confirms it.

Αλεκτρυόνες δὲ γίνονται μεγέθει μέγιστοι, καὶ ἔχουσι λόφον οὐκ ἐρυθρὸν, κατά γε τοὺς ἡμεδαποὺς, ἀλλὰ ποικίλον κατὰ τοὺς ἀνθινοὺς στεφάνους· τὰ δὲ πτερὰ τὰ πυγαῖα ἔχουσιν οὐ κυρτά, ὀυδὲ εἰς ἕλικα ἐπικαμφθέντα, ἀλλὰ πλατέα, καὶ ἐπισύρουσιν αὐτὰ, ὥσπερ οὖν καὶ οἱ ταὼς, ὅταν μὴ ὀρθώσωσί τε καὶ ἀναστήσωσιν αὐτά· χρόαν δὲ ἔχει τὰ πτερὰ τῶν Ινδῶν ἀλεκτρυόνων, χρυσωπόν τε καὶ κυαναυγῆ κατὰ τὴν σμάραγδον λίθον. Lib. xvi., c. ii.

"And (in India) Cocks are produced of the greatest size, and they have a comb which is not red, like those of our fowls, but variegated like the corolla of flowers; and they have their rump-feathers not curved, nor twisted into screws (as in the bird of Paradise), but broad; and they drag them after them, like Peacocks, when they do not erect them and set them up; and the colour of the feathers of the Indian Cocks is golden and cærulean, like the stone smaragdus." The oμápaydos Míos was the emerald; a metallic lustre is clearly indicated. That the bird in question was not the Gallus Gallinaceus is certain, from the absence of the sickle feathers in the tail. What it was, is not our bounden duty to decide. It is not, moreover, stated that the λópos, though variegated, did consist of feathers. It might have been a helmet, like that of the Guinea-fowl. earliest notice of Crested Fowls that I am aware of, occurs in Aldrovandi ; one of which sorts is the "Villatica nostra Gallina, tota candida, et instar Alaudæ cristata," "Our common country Hen, all white, and with a crest like that of a lark," a very useful comparison that will serve to distinguish such-like from the Polish Fowls ; the other, what he calls the Paduan, evidently a variety of the Polish or Poland.

The

If birds with such peculiarities were unknown to the

ancients, it will be asked through what agency they have made their appearance in our days. Are they new species, the result of clever combination and nurture, or of mere chance? Not conceiving that they are anything new under the sun, although long unknown to us, I answer at once, No. The mercantile enterprize and trading voyages of the English, Dutch, Spaniards, and Portuguese, are quite sufficient to explain their arrival, without having recourse to a new creation. It is strange that any new or remarkable breed, like Sir J. Sebright's Bantams, or the Duke of Leeds' Shackbag, should invariably first appear in the poultry-yards of the wealthy, and not in the homestead of the small farmer or the cottager. The lately introduced Cochin China Fowl, about which there is no mystery, and of which her Majesty has just reason to be proud, is a case in point. But it is not strange or unlikely that gentlemen who have succeeded in obtaining some exotic rarity, should choose to conceal the source and the channel by which it came into their hands, or even take credit for having themselves raised and generated a breed which excites the curiosity and admiration of their neighbours. There are several varieties that are extinct, or not to be obtained in this country, as the abovementioned Duke of Leeds' Fowl, and the White Poland Fowl with a black top-knot. Attempts have been made to reproduce them, both by the most promising systems of crossing, and by acting on the imagination of breeding Fowls, after the manner of Jacob's experiments with Laban's flocks; all in vain. We can easily understand how certain points in any race can be confirmed and made more conspicuous by selection and breeding in and in, but we are at a loss to know how to go to work to produce something quite original and new. If these lost varieties do re-appear, and they are both worth the trouble they may give, it will probably be by a fresh importation from their original Indian home.

The head-quarters of Domestic Fowl at the present day are the islands of Java and Sumatra, and the Malay