The following interesting remarks are extracted from Chambers:--

The educability of the dog's perceptive faculties has been exemplified

in a remarkable manner by his acquired knowledge of musical sounds. On

some dogs fine music produces an apparently painful effect, causing

them gradually to become restless, to moan piteously, and, finally, to

fly from the spot with every sign of suffering and distress. Others

have been seen to sit and listen to music with seeming delight, and

even to go every Sunday to church, with the obvious purpose of

enjoying the solemn and powerful strains of the organ. Some dogs

manifest a keen sense of false notes in music. Mrs. Samuel Carter

Hall, at Old Brompton, possesses an Italian greyhound, which screams

in apparent agony when a jarring combination of notes is produced,

accidentally or intentionally, on the piano. These opposite and

various manifestations show what might be done by education to teach

dogs a critical knowledge of sounds. A gentleman of Darmstadt, in

Germany, as we learn, has taught a poodle dog to detect false notes in

music. We give the account of this remarkable instance of educability

as it appears in a French newspaper.

Mr. S----, having acquired a competency by commercial industry,

retired from business, and devoted himself, heart and soul, to the

cultivation and enjoyment of music. Every member of his little

household was by degrees involved more or less in the same occupation,

and even the housemaid could in time bear a part in a chorus, or

decipher a melody of Schubert. One individual alone in the family

seemed to resist this musical entrancement; this was a small spaniel,

the sole specimen of the canine race in the mansion. Mr. S---- felt

the impossibility of instilling the theory of sounds into the head of

Poodle, but he firmly resolved to make the animal bear _some_ part or

other in the general domestic concert; and by perseverance, and the

adoption of ingenious means, he attained his object. Every time that a

_false note_ escaped either from the instrument or voice--as often as

any blunder, of whatever kind, was committed by the members of the

musical family (and such blunders were sometimes committed

intentionally)--down came its master's cane on the back of the

unfortunate poodle, till she howled and growled again. Poodle

perceived the meaning of these unkind chastisements, and instead of

becoming sulky, showed every disposition to howl on the instant a

false note was uttered, without waiting for the formality of a blow.

By and by, a mere glance of Mr. S----'s eye was sufficient to make the

animal howl to admiration. In the end, Poodle became so thoroughly

acquainted with, and attentive to, false notes and other musical

barbarisms, that the slightest mistake of the kind was infallibly

signalised by a yell from her, forming the most expressive commentary

upon the misperformance.

When extended trials were made of the animal's acquirements, they were

never found to fail, and Poodle became, what she still is, the most

famous, impartial, and conscientious connoisseur in the Duchy of

Hesse. But, as may be imagined, her musical appreciation is entirely

negative; if you sing with expression, and play with ability, she will

remain cold and impassible. But let your execution exhibit the

slightest defect, and you will have her instantly showing her teeth,

whisking her tail, yelping, barking, and growling. At the present

time, there is not a concert or an opera at Darmstadt to which Mr.

S---- and his wonderful dog are not invited; or, at least, _the dog_.

The voice of the prima donna, the instruments of the band--whether

violin, clarionet, hautbois, or bugle--all of them must execute their

parts in perfect harmony, otherwise Poodle looks at its master, erects

its ears, shows its grinders, and howls outright. Old or new pieces,

known or unknown to the dog, produce on it the same effect.

It must not be supposed that the discrimination of the creature is

confined to the mere _execution_ of musical compositions. Whatever may

have been the case at the outset of its training, its present and

perfected intelligence extends even to the secrets of composition.

Thus, if a vicious modulation, or a false relation of parts, occur in

a piece of music, the animal shows symptoms of uneasy hesitation; and

if the error be continued, will infallibly give the grand condemnatory

howl. In short, Poodle is the terror of all the middling composers of

Darmstadt, and a perfect nightmare to the imagination of all poor

singers and players. Sometimes Mr. S---- and his friends take a

pleasure in annoying the canine critic, by emitting all sorts of

discordant sounds from instrument and voice. On such occasions the

creature loses all self-command, its eyes shoot forth fiery flashes,

and long and frightful howls respond to the immelodious concert of the

mischievous bipeds. But the latter must be careful not to go too far;

for when the dog's patience is tried to excess, it becomes altogether

wild, and flies fiercely at the tormentors and their instruments.

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.

Interiere quidem, tibi quae placuisse solebant,

Et formae dotes, et facile ingenium:

Deficiunt sensus, tremulae scintillula vitae

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 laeta, piorum

Quae 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."

[Illustration]

[Illustration: DEER-HOUNDS.]

"His bulk and beauty speak no vulgar praise.

* * * *

Oh had you seen him, vigorous, bold, and young,

Swift as a stag, and as a lion strong;

Him no fell savage in the plain withstood,

None 'scap'd him, bosomed in the gloomy wood;

His eye how piercing!"

POPE.

Anecdotes of Dogs · 第 36 / 87 题