be necessary for us to obtain a more accurate knowledge of the natural history of fishes. Then we shall quickly learn that there is a proper time for catching fish as well as for all things, and the rest will follow in due course. We can wait for our soles until there is no fear of the trawl-nets disturbing the spawn. And then we shall be in no danger of taking codfish, mackerel, or herrings at a time when they are multiplying themselves for our advantage.
DOGS IN PUBLIC.
It is evident that much capital is to be made out of dogs, otherwise Mr. E. T. Smith would not have thought it worth his while to call together such a fine company of competitors for canine honours as he has recently done. Twelve hundred animals, yelling, howling, and snarling, under the same roof! Our readers may imagine the chorus. And the company that collected to meet and do them honour, what a distinct section of the population! That man influences the dog, we had at the recent show a complete proof in the extraordinary instances of breeding evinced in the bull-dogs and terriers; but it may be doubted if dogs do not influence man in nearly as marked a degree. Why should the company of dogs dictate to a man the kind of coat, and hat, and trousers he shall wear; the nature of his necktie—nay, even the amount of the hirsute appendage he shall allow himself upon his chin, and the very expression of his face? That the canine race do dictate to man in these particulars, a glance at the style of the company present day by day at this show, was sufficient proof. What sympathy must there be between the two races to produce such mutual influences! We are not going to write an account of the Ashburnham Hall Dog-Show from a sporting point of view; for, in the first place, we are not of the fancy; and, in the second place, we don’t believe in the fancy. Jemmy Shaw, for instance, thinks that it is the highest effort of human skill to breed a terrier down to the size of his “Little Wonder,” or about four and a half pounds—“As beautiful as a racehorse, as hard as steel, and as courageous as a lion.” This process of reduction may be very interesting to Mr. Darwin, but we very much question its utility, and we altogether deny and disdain the standard of beauty set up by the “fancy” in matters canine. When one comes to think of it, does it not stagger one’s belief in the aspirations of mankind after the true and beautiful? Does not one doubt the truth of Keats’ line,
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever,
when one sees our race of dogs reduced by extraordinary care to the utmost conceivable pitch of ugliness, and to find people—reputed to be knowing ones—actually believing in that ugliness as the acme of perfection and beauty? Thank God, the utmost effort of the breeder’s art cannot make anything but a noble gentleman out of the bloodhound. How judicially the few hounds of this class carried themselves! and how, with their deep-set eyes and solemn sad faces, they seemed to look down upon the crowd of bipeds collected to inspect them! We saw Mr. Boom’s “Rufus,” to wit, “taking stock” of two gentlemen dressed in tight trousers and Belcher handkerchiefs, and with hard, heavy jowls—just as Chief Baron Pollock might survey two felons in the dock.
The mastiff race we always understood had dropped out of the chain of animal life; but here they put in an appearance: though, we fear, not altogether a satisfactory one. There was evidently a good deal of the heavy Mount St. Bernard blood in many of them, and only two or three came up to our ideal of the old English mastiff—lithe, powerful, and long in the body, with something of the panther in their movements, and with a jaw firm and solid, but far less heavy than those possessed by the hippopotamus breed shown as mastiffs. “Rover” and “Bran,” selected by the judges, were near the mark, but not quite up to it. The Newfoundlands were, with scarcely an exception, mongrels. Indeed, any very big dog with a curly coat is believed to be a Newfoundland; and if his name is “Sailor,” and if he will fetch a stick out of the water, that is evidence enough to the public generally that he is a thoroughbred one. The Mount St. Bernards, again, were of all shapes and sizes.
As regards the sporting dogs, any one who knows the value of good animals of this class will not be surprised to find that the best in the country were not represented here. Indeed, dog-shows have not yet made such way among us as to entice the great sporting magnates to send their dogs, and only a second class of animals was to be expected.
The silver cup, value fifty guineas, and the second prize, value twenty-five guineas, were not competed for; the offer was not likely to tempt Badminton or Belvoir. Pointers were very well represented, and the prize dog, “Ranger,” was really a noble animal as regards form. How he would work in the field is, however, quite a different matter. English setters were very badly represented, but the black and tan Irish dogs of this class were really beautiful animals. Retrievers were very plentiful: indeed every person who possessed an animal of this kind, apparently sent him for the mere vanity of saying he had competed, and possibly for the sake of obtaining a free entry. It is a great pity that some method of selection was not adopted, as dog-fanciers did not go to see 1200 indifferent dogs, and the public generally would have been better pleased with a third of the number. However much owners may be delighted, Mr. Smith must take care that his next show is something better than a collection of household pets. We could not help noticing, however, No. 373, a Russian retriever, with a very odd long, wiry coat, very much like that of a Scotch deer-hound. Among the quaint dogs present there were some very clever-looking fox-terriers with uncut ears, just like those of bats: these and the beagles, and the Clumber spaniels attracted a great deal of attention. After these small dogs, and indeed after everything also in the show, the boar-hound, at the top of the large room, astonished the visitors. This powerful animal, with limbs like those of a lion, stood at least four-feet high, and his fangs were something terrible to behold. This dog is of the true breed of boar-hounds which we see in those powerful pictures of