With regard to their economy, he remarks that they possess a superior degree of intelligence, and evince a disposition to submit to the dominion of man, far exceeding all other animals. (Ibid., p. 260.) Mr. Swainson, also, further states that "the economy of this type is in direct opposition to the natatorial; for it is strictly terrestrial: we know not, in fact, a single instance where the individuals belonging to it frequent water, or its vicinity" (Ibid., p. 259.); yet, on the next page but one, he gives us an example of this type, the common duck!! (Ibid., p. 261.) The strictly terrestrial economy of this type is, also, represented by the beavers (Castórida), the Crácidæ, the Anserinæ (geese, &c.), the Pachydérmata, and the Manàtus! (Ibid., p. 264.) This, therefore, like the other types, means nothing, when we inspect its illustration by facts in theory, we are told that every individual belonging to this type is strictly terrestrial, neither frequenting the water, nor its vicinity; in the analysis we find quite the reverse. We admit, with Mr. Swainson, that, if an animal is rapacious, we generally, in fact, always, find it possessed of suitable means for catching its prey; that, if it is aquatic, it has an organisation adapted to its living in water; and so on: and, further, that rapacious, aquatic, and the other forms, are generally found provided with an organisation, &c., which, as suited to their peculiar mode of life, may be distinguished in all such animals throughout the animal kingdom, although in varied modifications; but that every group, or, to express it in Mr. Swainson's phraseology, that every "circle," contains within itself a representative of such type, we deem as purely a fanciful conjecture as the existence of the circles. themselves. It is in his attempts to support and prove this conjecture that Mr. Swainson has been necessarily obliged so to break through and surpass all true analogy, as to make what he terms analogy, not striking and gratifying, but preposterous and absurd. We have now laid before our readers some of the objections (for to state all would far exceed our limits) which, after much study, reflection, and investigation, we are inclined to think will militate strongly against the Quinary System, as it now exists. But, before concluding, we beg to assure our readers, that the remarks we have made do not proceed from any wish to find fault or criticise; to call in question the opinions of an eminent author; or from a love of contro versy. The sole end of them is, in order, if possible, to place the subject in a clear light, and to lead others to investigate and examine it for themselves: and, whether such investigations cleanse it from all imputations, answer all ob jections urged against it, and bring it out of the furnace like gold seven times purified; or, on the other hand (and we think this the most probable supposition), manifest to the world, that, although bearing the deceptive title of "natural," it is the most fanciful and theoretical, our end will be alike answered. Bewsey House, Warrington, Feb. 19. 1836. ART. IV. Notes on the Habits of a domesticated White Rat, and a Terrier Dog (Flora), that lived in Harmony together. By SAMUEL Moss, Esq., Cheltenham. EARLY in the year 1822, a white rat was caught in the kennel, or the stables, belonging to Colonel Berkeley, the present Lord Segrave, situate adjoining to where Pittville Parade now stands. It was considered a great curiosity, and was exhibited as such. Having expressed a good deal of interest about it, and another being caught soon afterwards, it was brought to me. It was full grown, but, I apprehend, had been hurt by the trap, as it died in about three weeks, and proved to be with young. I think it had five or six. About the autumn of the same year, another white rat was caught, and brought to me. It was about three parts grown, and exceedingly savage; and, when allowed to go at large in my sitting-room, flew at me with great ferocity. I put it into a squirrel cage, with a turnabout wheel, and for two or three days kept it on short allowance, and gave it no food but what it took out of my hands. At first it snapped at the food, and endeavoured to bite my fingers through the wires, but very soon came out of its box on my approach, and evidently knew my voice. By this time it began to feel the security of the box, and would not come out unless forced to do so. When I put my hand into the box to take it out, it bit me severely, and did so two or three times afterwards; but, finding I took no notice of its attacks, and that it was always treated with kindness by me, it soon ceased to exhibit signs of anger, and lay perfectly passive when I opened the lid of the box to look at it. As I had no family, and sat the greater part of my time alone, occupied in reading or writing, I often turned it out of the box, and it soon became familiar, on finding that I did not interfere with it (for I carefully avoided letting it know that it was watched), and would come to and cross over my feet with impunity to pick up crumbs, &c., which I purposely allowed to drop for it; so that in about a fortnight it would approach me when called, and take sugar or bread from my hand. At this time I had a small white terrier dog, called Flora, an excellent rat-killer, and of great courage, who was always with me, and lay on the hearth-rug at my feet. When the rat was first brought into the room in the cage, Flora was very anxious to get at him; but the first time I took the rat in my hand, I called Flora, and introduced her to my new acquaintance. With that sagacity for which the dog is celebrated, she immediately comprehended my meaning, and never afterwards showed the slightest wish to assail the rat; on the contrary, they soon became very much attached; and, when any stranger came in, the rat put himself under her protection, by going into a corner of the room, while Flora stood sentry, growling and showing her teeth most furiously, until satisfied that no injury was meditated against her fa vourite. A high wall surrounded my garden at the back of the house. I frequently turned the rat and dog out to amuse themselves, which they did by playing at hide and seek amongst the flowers; but, when my whistle was heard, they each endeavoured to outstrip the other in the race to be first to pay their respects to me. Scugg, the rat, as soon as I took my place at table, would run up my leg, get on the table, and, if not vigilantly watched, would carry off the sugar, pastry, or cheese, of which it would nibble a little, and leave the rest to Flora; but if, which was sometimes the case, Flora was hungry, and anxious to have the first bite, Scugg kept her in order by striking her on the nose with his fore paw, which Flora never resented, but would sit quietly looking on, until permitted to take her share. They lapped milk out of the same saucer, and Scugg slept between Flora's legs before the fire. The rat did not, from the first, that I recollect, show any fear of the dog; which I account for by supposing that the novelty of his situation made him desperate and insensible to fear. The presence of a stranger at the table did not prevent him from foraging; but he would not eat from any hand except mine. He was very much attached to me, and would lie for hours within my waistcoat, or, if I went out, in my pocket. Many persons supposed that its colour protected it, and that its being white was the cause of the dog not destroying it; but, in November, 1824, another white rat was caught and brought to me one evening, whilst Scugg was at liberty and amusing himself with Flora in the room. I opened the trap, and shook out the stranger to them: both the rats ran rapidly about, pursued by the dog, and one of them was almost immediately caught, and as soon destroyed, to my great consternation, for the two rats were so much alike that I could not distinguish one from the other; great, therefore, was my joy and surprise to see Scugg run into the corner, and Flora at her post to protect him, where she remained so long as the man and the dead rat were in the room. My white rat, in colour, was very like a white ferret; that is, slightly tinged with yellow, not so much so as the ferret ; the eyes red; countenance mild and placid; the animal free from smell, and particularly clean in its habits, and highly offended if the fur was wet or ruffled the wrong way. The only thing unpleasant connected with it was its tail, against which I never could overcome my repugnance; and, when suddenly drawn across my face in his frolicsome passages from one shoulder to the other, it always made me shudder. When the farm, with the stables, kennel, &c. &c., were removed, to make way for the Pittville pleasure-grounds, the colony of white rats were dispersed, and took up their quarters in various parts of the town, and, I suspect, were finally extirpated by the brown rats. Some of them, however, were more kindly received, and formed alliances with their brown neighbours; for, about the latter end of 1825, two or three party-coloured rats were caught; since which they have disappeared altogether. When the first white rat was caught, it was a matter of discussion whether it was a lusus naturæ or a distinct race: the question was set at rest by a man, who had formerly served as a marine, exclaiming, on seeing the tame rat, "That's a Guinea!" He said they were common on the coast of Guinea. I have since been told, but I do not recollect on what authority, that they are met with in various parts of the globe. Some years since, they were to be found in considerable numbers in Nelson Street, Bristol, brought there, probably, in some of the trading vessels; and from thence it is likely they found their way to Cheltenham. In Feb. 1825, on my marriage, I parted with my little friend; but he did not survive the separation above three or four weeks. Whether he grieved at parting, or whether he was not kept sufficiently clean, or was not allowed sufficient liberty, I cannot tell. I sent for him occasionally, to show him to some of the numerous enquirers after him; and, on the last occasion, had great difficulty to take him from my bosom and put him into his cage. He drew himself up in a corner of his box, quite sulkily, and was found dead in the same position next morning. Cheltenham, Feb. 1. 1836. ART. V. Notice of the Arrival of Twenty-six Species of the Summer Birds of Passage in the Neighbourhood of Carlisle, Cumberland, during the Spring of 1835; to which are added a few Observations on some of the scarcer Species of Birds that have been obtained in the same Vicinity from Nov. 10. 1834, to Nov. 10. 1835; and a few Meteorological Remarks on the Spring, Summer, and Autumn of 1835, at Carlisle. By a CoRrespondent. The figures contained in the column on the right, in the table below, as well as those affixed to the species not included in it, refer to the numbers in Fleming's History of British Animals, which we have inserted, in order that any reader who may wish to see the various synonymes of any of the birds alluded to in this paper may find the species at once, should he possess, or have an opportunity of consulting, that very useful publication. On Sept. 21. Field lark, or titling 22. Cuckoo 23. Wryneck 25. Dottrel 26. Common tern 24. Corncrake, or land rail Ortygomètra Créx Red-backed Shrike (Lanius Collurio), n. 40. 5., a specimen, in nestling plumage, was shot on the banks of the river Eden, near the village of Cargo. The red-backed VOL. IX. No. 60. P |