s so. By and through man, the dog was endowed with
this means of expression, and was thus able to act as his more efficient
guard. It is an established fact that the dog barks when in contact with
man, and loses the power when separated from him. Such was the case with
the dogs that were left many years ago on the uninhabited island of Juan
Fernandez. The descendants of these dogs were found thirty years later to
have lost the power of barking, and only subsequently regained it with
difficulty.

The fact that the dog barks is not, however, the chief point. This
peculiar gift has been developed into a language, for it is by those
wonderful inflections of the voice in barking that the dog has learnt to
make man understand his meaning. Thus, as we all know, he is able to
convey, at will, a note of warning, to signal the approach of danger, to
show his anger, his alarm, his joy, the spirit that animates him in the
chase, to make his appeal for help, to declare the need of succour. His
bark has in these ways become his chief means of communication, quite
apart from the howl, the whimper, the whine, or the growl; the "singing"
that is associated with a pack of foxhounds baying at the moon; the
"talk" that the subject of these pages possessed to such an extraordinary
degree.

Then again, as he responded more readily to education, and acquired by
degrees something of the civilising instincts that were affecting man,
the dog became not only a trusty companion but a humble servant. Nor did
he stop here, for, what was still more remarkable, he certainly came by
degrees to reflect some of man's chief characteristics, as well as nearly
all human passions. By association of ideas he developed memory. By his
dreams and the various sounds he emits in sleep, he is seen to possess
imagination. His wonderful power of scent is found capable of being
turned to other uses than sport, and is even now not utilised in sundry
quarters as it might be. Then, too, he habitually forms his own
judgments, and these are usually exceedingly correct, as when he
recognises an intruder, or arrives at what is right and what is wrong
within the circle of his own domain. On many occasions he certainly gives
evidence of a conscience and the possession of the rudiments of the moral
sense. When he does wrong he frequently exhibits shame as well as
contrition, seeking forgiveness, and being often distinctly unhappy till
this is secured. So far does he occasional