MOORE'S ii RURAL HAND BOOKS. FOURTH SERIES. CONTAINING LIEBIG'S FAMILIAR LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. THE DOG AND GUN. PERSOZ ON THE CULTURE OF THE VINE. THE SKILLFUL HOUSEWIFE. MEMOIR ON INDIAN CORN. NEW YORK: A. 0. MOORE, AGRICULTURAL BOOK PUBLISHER, (LATE C. M. SAXTON & CO.) No, 140 FULTON STREET. 1858. .H(cT FAMILIAR LETTERS ON CHEMISTRl' AND ITS RELATION TO COMMERCE, PHYSIOLOGY, AND AGRICULTURE. BY JUSTUS LIEBIG, M. D., Ph. D., F. R. S., PEOFESSOR OF OftEMlSTRY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF GIESSBM EDITED BY JOHN GARDNER, M. D., MEMBER OF THE CHEMICAL SOCIETY. NEW YOBK: CM. SAXTON & COMPANY, No. 140 FULTOX STREET. 18 5 7. PREFACE. The Letters contained in this little Vol- ume embrace some of the most important points of the science of Chemistry, in their application to Natural Philosophy, Physiolo- gy, Agriculture, and Commerce. Some of them treat of subjects which have already been, or will hereafter be, more fully discuss- ed in my larger works. They were intended to be mere sketches, and were written for the especial purpose of exciting the attention of governments, and an enlightened public, to the necessity of establishing Schools of Chem- istry, and of promoting, by every means, the study of a science so intimately connected 1* 6 PREFACE. with the arts, pursuits, and social well-being of modern civilized nations. For my own part I do not scruple to avow the conviction, that ere long, a knowledge of the principal truths of Chemistry w^ill be ex- pected in every educated man, and that it will be as necessary to the Statesman and Pohtical Economist, and the Practical Agriculturist, as it is already indispensable to the Physician and the Manufacturer. In Germany, such of these Letters as have been already published, have not failed to produce some of the results anticipated. New professorships have been established in the Universities of Gottingen and Wurtzburg, for the express purpose of facilitating the applica- tion of chemical truths to the practical arts of life, and of following up the new line of in- vestigation and research — the bearing of Chemistry upon Physiology, Medicine, and Agriculture, — which may be said to be only just begun. PREFACE. My friend, Dr. Ernest DIefFenbach, one of my first pupils, who is well acquainted with all the branches of Chemistry, Physics, Nat- ural History, and Medicine, suggested to me that a collection of these Letters would be acceptable to the English public, which has so favorably received my former works. I readily acquiesced in the publication of an English edition, and undertook to write a few additional Letters, which should embrace some conclusions I have arrived at, in my re- cent investigations, in connexion with the ap- plication of chemical science to the physiolo- gy of plants and agriculture. My esteemed friend, Dr. Gardner, has had the kindness to revise the manuscript and the proof-sheets for publication, for which I can- not refrain expressing my best thanks. It only remains for me to add a hope, that this little offering may serve to make new friends to our beautiful and useful science, 8 PREFACE. and be a remembrancer to those old friends who have, for many years past, taken a lively interest in all my labors. JUSTUS LIEBIG. GlESSEIiT, JlugUSlf i84d. CONTENTS. LETTER I. PAGE The Subject proposed. Materials employed for Chem- ical Apparatus : — Glass — Caoutchouc — Cork — Platinum. The Balance. The " Elements" of the Ancients, represent the forms of matter. La- voisier and his successors. Study of the materials composing the Earth. Synthetic production of Min- erals — Lapis Lazuli. Organic chemistry. - - 13 LETTER II. Changes of Form which every kind of Matter under- goes. Conversion of Gases into Liquids and Solids. Carbonic Acid — its curious properties in a solid state. Condensation of Gases by porous bodies. By Spongy Platinum. Importance of this property in Nature - - - - - - 21 LETTER III. The Manufacture of Soda from Culinary Salt ; its im- portance in the Arts and in Commerce. Glass — Soap — Sulphuric Acid. Silver Refining. Bleach- ing. Trade in Sulphur - - - - 31 10 CONTENTS. LETTER IV. Connexion of Theory with Practice. Employment of Magnetism as a moving power — its impracticabil- ity. Relation of Coals and Zinc as economic sources of Force. Manufacture of Beet-root Sugar — its im- policy. Gas for illumination - - - 43 LETTER V. Isomerism, or Identity of composition in bodies with different chemical and physical properties. Ckys- TALLizATioN. Amorphism. ISOMORPHISM, or sim- ilarity of properties in bodies totally different in composition - - - - - 65 ^ETTER VI. Alliance of Chemistry with Physiology. Di- vision of Food into nourishment, and inaterials for combustion. Effectsof Atmospheric Oxygen. Bal- ance of Carbon and Oxygen - - - 64 LETTER VII. Animal Heat, its laws and influence on the Animal Functions. Loss and Supply. Influence of Cli- mate. Fuel of Animal Heat. Agency of Oxygen in disease. Respiration - - - - 71 LETTER VIII. Aliments. Constituents of the Blood. Fibrine, Al- bumen. Inorganic Substances. Isomerism of Fi- brine, Albumen, and elements of nutrition. Rela- tion of animal and vegetable organisms - - 84 CONTENTS. 11 LETTER IX. Growth of Animals. Use of Butter and Milk. Met- amorphoses of Ti.TSues. Food of Carnivora, and of the Horse - - - - - 96 LETTER X. Application of the preceding Facts to Man. Divis- ion of human food. Uses of Gelatine - - 106 LETTER XL Circulation of Matter in the Animal and Veg- etable Kingdoms. The Ocean. Agriculture. Restitution of an Equilibrium in -the Soil. Causes of the exhaustion of Land. Virginia. En- gland. Relief gained by importation of bones. Empirical Farming unsatisfactory. Necessity for scientific principles. Influence of the Atmosphere. Of Saline and Earthy matters of the soil - - 113 LETTER XIT. Science and Art of Agriculture. Necessity of Chemistry. Rationale of agricultural processes. Washing for Gold - - - - - 125 LETTER XIII. Illustration or the necessity of Chemistry to ADVANCE and PERFECT AGRICULTURE. Manner ia which Fallow ameliorates the soil. Uses of Lime. Effects of Burning. Of Marl - - - 133 LETTER XrV. Nature and Effects of Manures. Animal bodies subject to constant waste. Parts separating — exu- 12 CONTENTS, viae — waste vegetable matters — together contain all the elements of the soil and of food. Various value of excrements of different animals as manure 142 LETTER XV. Source op the Carbon and Nitrogen of Plants. Produce of Carbon in Forests and Meadows sup- plied only with mineral aliments prove it to be from the atmosphere. Relations between Mineral con- stituents, and Carbon and Nitrogen. Effects of the Carbonic Acid and Ammonia of Manures. Neces- sity of inorganic constituents to the formation of aliments, of blood, and therefore of nutrition. Ne- cessity of INQUIRIES by Analysis to advance Ag- riculture - - - - - - 152 LETTER XVI. Results of the Author's latest Inquiries. Su- perlative importance of the phosphates of Lime and Alkalies to the cultivatian of the Ceralia. Sources of a supply of these Materials - - 173 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. LETTER I. My dear sir : The influence which the sci ence of chemistry exercises upon human indus- try, agriculture, and commerce ; upon physiology, medicine, and other sciences, is now so interest- ing a topic of conversation everywhere, that it may be no unacceptable present to you if I trace in a few familiar letters some of the relations it bears to these various sciences, and exhibit foi you its actual effects upon the present social con- dition of mankind. In speaking of the present state of chemistry, its rise and progress, I shall need no apology if, as a preliminary step, I call your attention to the implements which the chemist employs — the means which are indispensable to his labors and to his success. These consist, generally, of materials furnished to us by nature, endowed with many most remark- 2 14 LET'IEllS ON CHEMISTRY. able properties fitting them for our purposes. If one of them is a production of art, yet its adaptation to the use of mankind — the qualities which render it available to us — must be referred to the same source as those derived immediately from nature. Cork, platinum, glass, and caoutchouc, are the substances to which I allude, and which minister so essentially to modern chemical investigations. Without them, indeed, we might have made some progress, but it would have been slow ; we might have accomplished much, but it would have been far less than has been done with their aid. Some persons, by the employment of expensive substi- tutes, might have successfully pursued the sci- ence ; but incalculably fewer minds would have been engaged in its advancement. These mate- rials have only been duly appreciated and fully adopted within a very recent period. In the time of Lavoisier, the rich alone could make chemical researches ; the necessary apparatus could only be procured at a very great expense. And first, of glass : every one is familiar with most of the properties of this curious substance — its transparency, hardness, destitution of color, and stability under ordinary circumstances. To these obvious qualities we may add those which especially adapt it to the use of the chemist, namely, that it is unaffected by most acids OT CHEMICAL IMPLEMENTS. 15 Other fluids contained within it. At certain tem- peratures it becomes more ductile and plastic than wax, and may be made to assume in our hands, before the flame of a common lamp, the form of every vessel we need to contain our materials, and of every apparatus required to pursue our ex- periments. Then, how admirable and valuable are the prop- erties of cork ! How little do men reflect upon the inestimable worth of so common a substance ! How few rightly esteem the importance of it to the progress of science, and the moral advance- ment of mankind ! There is no production of nature or art equally adapted to the purposes to which the chemist applies it. Cork consists of a soft, highly elastic substance, as a basis, having diffused throughout a matter with properties re- sembling wax, tallow, and resin, yet dissimilar to all of these, and termed suberin. This renders it perfectly impermeable to fluids, and, in a great measure, even to gases. It is thus the fittest material we possess for closing our bottles, and retaining their contents. By its means, and with the aid of caoutchouc, we connect our vessels and tubes of glass, and construct the most complicated apparatus. We form joints and links of connex- ion, adapt large apertures to small, and thus dis- pense altogether with the aid of the brass-founder 16 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. and the mechanist. Thus the implements of the chemist are cheaply and easily procured, immedi- ately adapted to any purpose, and readily repaired or altered. Again : in investigating the composition of solid bodies — of minerals — we are under the necessity of bringing them into a liquid state, either by solu- tion or fusion. Now vessels of glass, of porcelain, and of all non-metallic substances, are destroyed by the means we employ for that purpose — are acted upon by many acids, by alkalies, and the alkaline carbonates. Crucibles of gold and silver would melt at high temperatures. But we have a combination of all the qualities we can desire, in platinum. This metal was only first adapted to these uses about fifty years since. It is cheaper than gold, harder and more durable than silver, infusible at all temperatures of our furnaces, and is left intact by acids and alkaline carbonates. Platinum unites all the valuable properties of gold and of porcelain, resisting the action of heat, and of almost all chemical agents. As no mineral analysis could be made perfectly without platinum vessels, had we not possessed this metal, the composition of minerals would have yet remained unknown ; without cork and caoutchouc we should have required the costly aid of the mechanician at every step. Even without THE LABORATORY. 17 the latter of these adjuncts, our instruments would have been far more costly and fragile. Possessing all these gifts of nature, we economize incalculably our time — to us more precious than money ! Such are our instruments. An equal improve- ment has been accomplished in our laboratory. This is no longer the damp, cold, fire-proof vault of the metallurgist, nor the manufactory of the druggist, fitted up with stills and retorts. On the contrary, a light, warm, comfortable room, where beautifully constructed lamps supply the place of furnaces, and the pure and odorous flame of gas or of spirits of wine supersedes coal and other fuel, and gives us all the fire we need ; where health is not invaded, nor the free exercise of thought impeded ; there we pursue our inquiries, and interrogate nature to reveal her secrets. To these simple means must be added the bal- ance, and then we possess everything which is required for the most extensive researches. The great distinction between the manner of proceeding in chemistry and natural philosophy, is, that one weighs, the other measures. The nat- ural philosopher has applied his measures to na- ture for many centuries, but only for fifty years have we attempted to advance our philosophy by weighing. 18 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. For all great discoveries cheiiiists are indebted to the balance — that incomparable instrument which gives permanence to every observation, dispels all ambiguity, establishes truth, detects error, and guides us in the true path of inductive science. The balance, once adopted as a means of inves- tigating nature, put an end to the school of Aristotle in physics. The explanation of natural phenomena by mere fanciful speculations, gave place to a true natural philosophy. Fire, air, earth, and water, could no longer be regarded as elements. Three of them could henceforth be considered only as significative of the forms in which all matter exists. Everything with which we are conversant upon the surface of the earth is solid, liquid, or aeri- form ; but the notion of the elementary nature of air, earth, and water, so universally held, was now discovered to belong to the errors of the past. Fire was found to be but the visible and per- ceptible indication of changes proceeding within the so-called elements. Lavoisier investigated the composition of the atmosphere and of water, and studied the many wonderful offices performed by an element com- mon to both in the scheme of nature, namely, oxygen : and he discovered many of the properties of this elementary gas. PROGRESS OF DISCOVERY. 19 After his time, the principal problem of chem- ical philosophers was to determine the composi- tion of the solid matters composing the earth. To the eighteen metals previously known, were soon added twenty-four discovered to be constituents of minerals. The great mass of the earth was shown to be composed of metals in combination with oxygen, to which they are united in one, two, or more definite and unalterable proportions, forming compounds which are termed metallic oxides, and these again, combined with oxides of other bodies, essentially different to metals, name- ly, carbon, and silicium. If to these we add cer- tain compounds of sulphur with metals, in which the sulphur takes the place of oxygen, and forms sulphurets, and one other body — common salt — (which is a compound of sodium and chlorine), we have every substance which exists in a solid form upon our globe in any very considerable mass. Other compounds, innumerably various, are found only in small scattered quantities. The chemist, however, did not remain satisfied with the separation of minerals into their compo- nent elements, i. e., their analysis ; but he sought by synthesis, z. e., by combining the separate ele- ments and forming substances similar to those con- structed by nature, to prove the accuracy of his processes and the correctness of his conclusions 20 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRi'. Thus he formed, for instance, pumice-stone, feM- spar, mica, iron pyrites, &c., artificially. But of all the achievements of inorganic chem- istry, the artificial formation of lapis lazuli was the most brilliant and the most conclusive. This mineral, as presented to us by nature, is calculated powerfully to arrest our attention by its beautiful azure-blue color, its remaining unchanged by exposure to air or to fire, and furnishing us with a most valuable pigment. Ultramarine, more precious than gold ! The analysis of lapis lazuli represented it to be composed of silica, alumina, and soda, three col- orless bodies, with sulphur and a trace of iron. Nothing could be discovered in it of the nature of a pigment, nothing to which its blue color could be referred, the cause of which was searched for in vain. It might therefore have been supposed that the analyst was here altogether at fault, and that at any rate its artificial production must be impossi- ble. Nevertheless, this has been accomplished, and simply by combining in the proper proportions, as determined by analysis, silica, alumina, soda, iron, and sulphur. Thousands of pounds weight are now manufactured from these ingredients, and this artificial ultramarine is as beautiful as the nat- ural, while for the price of a single ounce of the latter we may obtain many pounds of the former. ANALYSIS AND SYNTHESIS. 21 With the production of artificial lapis lazuli, the formation of mineral bodies by synthesis ceased to be a scientific problem to the chemist ; he has no longer sufficient interest in it to pursue the sub- ject. He may now be satisfied that analysis will reveal to him the true constitution of minerals. But to the mineralogist and geologist it is still in a great measure an unexplored field, offering inquiries of tlie nij^hest interest and importance to their pursuits. Alter becoming acquainted with the constituent elements of all the substances within our reach, and the mutual relations of these elements, the re- markable transmutations to which bodies are sub- ject under the influence of the vital powers of plants and animals, became the principal object of chemical investigations, and the highest point of interest. A new science, inexhaustible as life it- self, is here presented us, standing upon the sound and solid foundation of a well-established inorganic chemistry. Thus the progress of science is, like the development of nature's works, gradual and expansive. After the buds and branches spring forth the leaves and blossoms, after the blossoms the fruit. Chemistry, in its application to animals and vegetables, endeavors jointly with physiology to enlighten us respecting the mysterious processes and sources of organic life. 22 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. LETTER II My dear sir : In my former letter 1 remmderl you that three of the supposed elements of tiie an- cients represent the forms or state in which all the ponderable matter of our globe exists ; I would now observe, that no substance possesses abso- lutely any one of those conditions ; that modern chemistry recognises nothing unchangeably solid, liquid, or aeriform : means have been devised for effecting a change of state in almost every known substance. Platinum, alumina, and rock crystal, it is true, can not be liquefied by the most intense heat of our furnaces, but they melt like wax before the flame of the oxy-hydrogen blowpipe. On the other hand, of the twenty-eight gaseous bodies with which we are acquainted, twenty-five may be reduced to a liquid state, and one into a solid. Probably, ere long, similar changes of condition will be extended to every form of matter. There are many things relating to this conden- sation of the gases worthy of your attention. Most CONDEiVSATION OF THE OASES. 23 aeriform bodies, when subjected to compression, are made to occupy a space wiiich diminishes in 'he exact ratio of the increase of the compressing force. Very generally, under a force double or triple of the ordinary atmospheric pressure they become one half or one third their former volume. This was a long time considered to be a law, and known as the law of Marriotle ; but a more accurate study of the subject has demonstrated that this law is by no means of general application. The volume of certain gases does not decrease in the ratio of the increase of the force used to compress them, but in some, a diminution of their bulk takes place in y^fcir greater degree as the pressure increases. Again, if ammoniacal gas is reduced by a com- pressing force to one sixth of its volume, or car- bonic acid is reduced to one thirty-sixth, a portion of them loses entirely the form of a gas, and be- comes a liquid, which, whe'n the pressure is with- drawn, assumes again in an instant its gaseous state — another deviation from the law of ^larriotte. Our process for reducing gases into fluids is of admirable simplicity. A simple bent tube, or a reduction of temperature by artificial means, have superseded the powerful compressing machines of the early experimenters. The cyanuret of mercury, when heated in an v>pen glass tube, is resolved into cyanogen gas and 24 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. metallic mercury ; if this substance is heated in a tube hermetically sealed, the decomposition occurs as before, but the gas, unable to escape, and shut up in a space several hundred times smaller than it would occupy as gas under the ordinary atmos pheric pressure, becomes a fluid in that part of the tube which is kept cool. When sulphuric acid is poured upon limestone in an open vessel, carbonic acid escapes with ef- fervescence as a gas, but if the decomposition is effected in a strong, close, and suitable vessel of iron, we obtain the carbonic acid in the state of liquid. In this manner it may be obtained in con- siderable quantities, even many pounds weight. Carbonic acid is separated from other bodies with which it is combined as a fluid under a pressure of thirty-six atmospheres. The curious properties of fluid carbonic acid are now generally known. When a small quan- tity is permitted to escape into the atmosphere, it assumes its gaseous state with extraordinary rapid- ity, and deprives the remaining fluid of caloric so rapidly that it congeals into a white crystalline mass like snow : at first it was indeed thought to be re- ally snow, but upon examination it proved to be pure frozen carbonic acid. This solid, contrary to expectation, exercises only a feeble pressure upon the surrounding medium. The fluid acid enclosed .DANGER OF CONDENSED GAS. 25 in a glass tube rushes at once, when opened, into a gaseous state, with an explosion which shatters the tube into fragments ; but solid carbonic acid can be liandled without producing any other effect than a feeling of intense cold. The particles of the car- bonic acid being so closely approximated in the solid, the whole force of cohesive attraction (which in the fluid is weak) becomes exerted, and opposes its tendency to assume its gaseous state ; but as it receives heat from surrounding bodies, it passes into gas gradually and without violence. The transition of solid carbonic acid into gas deprives all around it of caloric so rapidly and to so great an extent, that a degree of cold is produced im- measurably great, the greatest indeed known. Ten, twenty, or more pounds weight of mercury, brought into contact with a mixture of ether and solid carbonic acid, become in a few moments firm and malleable. This, however, can not be accom- plished without considerable danger. A melancholy accident occurred at Paris, which will probably prevent for the future the formation of solid car- bonic acid in these large quantities, and deprive the next generation of the gratification of witnessing these curious experiments. Just before the com- mencement of the lecture in the Laboratory of the Polytechnic School, an iron cylinder, two feet and a half long and one foot in diameter, in which 3 26 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. carbonic acid had been developed for experimenl before the class, burst, and its fragments were scattered about with the most tremendous force ; it cut off both the legs of the assistant and killed him on the spot. This vessel, formed of the strong- est cast-iron, and shaped like a cannon, had often been employed to exhibit experiments in the pres- ence of the students. We can scarcely think, without shuddering, of the dreadful calamity such an explosion would have occasioned in a hall filled with spectators. When we had ascertained the fact of gases becoming fluid under the influence of cold or pressure, a curious property possessed by charcoal, that of absorbing gas to the extent of many times its volume, — ten, twenty, or even, as in the case of animoniacal gas or muriatic acid ga«, eighty or ninety fold — which had been long known, no longer remained a mystery. Some gases are absorbed and condensed within the pores of the charcoal, into a space several hundred times smaller than they before occupied ; and there is now no doubt they there become fluid, or assume a solid state. As in a thousand other instances, chemical action here supplants mechanical forces. Adhesion or heterogeneous attraction, as it is termed, acquired by this discovery a more extended meaning ; it had never before been thought of as a cause of ABSORPTION OF GASES BY POROUS BODIES. 27 change of state in matter ; but it is now evident that a gas adheres ij the surface of a solid bod} by the same force which condenses it into a hquid. The smallest amount of a gas — atmospheric air for instance — can be compressed into a space a thousand times smaller by mere mechanical pres- sure, and then its bulk must be to the least measurable surface of a solid body, as a grain of sand to a mountain. By the mere effect of mass — the force of gravity — gaseous molecules are at- tracted by solids and adhere to their surfaces ; and when to this physical force is added the feeblest chemical affinity, the liquefiable gases can not retain their gaseous state. The amount of air condensed by these forces upon a square inch of surface is certainly not measurable ; but when a solid body, presenting several hundred square feet of surface within the space of a cubic inch, is brought into a limited volume of gas, we may understand why that volume is diminished, why all gases without exception are absorbed. A cubic inch of charcoal must have, at the lowest computation, a surface of one himdred square feet. This property of ab- sorbing gases varies with different kinds of char- coal : it is possessed in a higher degree by those containing the most pores, that is, where the pores are finer ; and in a lower degree in the more spongy kinds, that is, where the pores are larger 28 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. In this manner every porous body — rockd^ stones, the clods of the fields, &c. — imbibe air, and therefore oxygen ; the smallest solid molecule is thus surrounded by its own atmosphere of con- densed oxygen ; and if in their vicinity other bodies exist which have an affinity for oxygen, a combination is effected. When, for instance, car- bon and hydrogen are thus present, they are converted into nourishment for vegetables — into carbonic acid and water. The development of heat when air is imbibed, and the production of steam when the earth is moistened by rain, are acknowledged to be consequences of this conden- sation by the action of surfaces. But the most remarkable and interesting case of this kind of action is the imbibition of oxygen by metallic platinum. This metal, when massive, is of a lustrous white color, but it may be brought, by separating it from its solutions, into so finely divided a state, that its particles no longer reflect light, and it forms a powder as black as soot. In this condition it absorbs eight hundred times its volume of oxygen gas, and this oxygen must be contained within it in a state of condensation very like that of fluid water. When gases are thus condensed, that is, their particles made to approximate in this extraordinary manner, their properties can be palpably shown. ACTION ON SPONGY PLATINUM. 29 Their chemical actions become apparent as their physical characteristic disappears. The latter con- sists in the continual tendency of their particles to separate from each other ; and it is easy to imagine that this elasticity of gaseous bodies is the principal impediment to the operation of their chemical force ; for this becomes more energetic as their particles approximate. In that state in which they exist within the pores or upon the surface of solid bodies, their repulsion ceases, and their whole chemical action is exerted. Thus combina- tions which oxygen can not enter into, decomposi- tions which it can not effect while in the state of gas, take place with the greatest facility in the pores of platinum containing condensed oxygen. When a jet of hydrogen gas, for instance, is thrown upon spongy platinum, it combines with the oxygen condensed in the interior of the mass ; at their point of contact water is formed, and as the immediate consequence heat is evolved ; the platinum becomes red hot and the gas is inflamed. If we interrupt the current of the gas, the pores of the platinum become instantaneously filled again with oxygen ; and the same phenomena can be repeated a sec- ond time, and so on interminably. In finely pulverized platinum, and even in spongy platinum, we therefore possess a. perpetiium mobile — a mechanism like a watch which runs out and 3* 30 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. winds itself up — a force which is never «xhaustecl — competent to produce effects of the most power- ful kind, and self-renewed ad infinitum. Many phenomena, formerly inexplicable, are satisfactorily explained by these recently discov- ered properties of porous bodies. The metamor- phosis of alcohol into acetic acid, by the process known as the quick vinegar manufacture, depends upon principles, at a knowledge of which we have arrived by a careful study of these properties. THE MANUFACTURE OF SODA. 32 LETTER III. My dear sir : The manufacture of soda from common culinary salt may be regarded as the foundation of all our modern improvements in the domestic arts ; and we may take it as affording an excellent illustration of the dependance of the various branches of human industry and commerce upon each other, and their relation to chemistry. Soda has been used from time immemorial in the manufacture of soap and glass, two chemical productions, which employ and keep in circulation an immense amount of capital. The quantity of soap consumed by a nation would be no inaccurate measure whereby to estimate its wealth and civilization. Of two countries with an equal amount of population, the wealthiest and most highly civilized will consume the greatest weight of soap. This consumption does not subserve sensual gratification, nor depend upon fashion, but upon the feeling of the beauty, comfort, and wel- fare, attendant upon cleanliness ; and a regard 32 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. to this feeling is coincident with wealth and civilization. The rich in the middle ages con- c(.'aled a want of cleanliness in their clothes and persons, under a profusion of costly scents and essences, while they were more luxurious in eating and drinking, in apparel and horses. With us a want of cleanliness is equivalent to insup- portable misery and misfortune. Soap belongs to those manufactured products, the money value of which continually disappears from circulation, and requires to be continually renewed. It is one of the few substances whicli are entirely consumed by use, leaving no product of any worth. Broken glass and bottles arc by no means absolutely worthless ; for rags we may purchase new cloth, but soap-water has no value whatever. It would be interesting to know accu- rately the amount of capital involved in the manu- facture of soap ; it is certairdy as large as that employed in the coffee trade, with this important difference as respects Germany, that it is entirely derived from our own soil. France formerly im- ported soda from Spain, Spanish soda being of the best quality, at an annual expenditure of twenty to thirty millions of francs. During the war with England, the price of soda, and consequently of soap and glass, rose continually ; and all manufac- tures suffered in consequence. manufacturp: of sulphuric acid. 33 The present method of making soda from com- mon salt was discovered by Le Blanc at the end of the last century. It was a rich boon for France, and became of the highest importance during the war of Napoleon. In a very short time it was manufactured to an extraordinary extent, especially at the seat of the soap manufactories. Marseilles possessed for a time a monopoly of soda and soap. The policy of Napoleon deprived that city of the advantages derived from this great source of com- merce, and thus excited the hostility of the popu- lation to his dynasty, which became favorable to the restoration of the Bourbons. A curious result of an improvement in a chemical manufacture ! It was not long, however, in reaching England. In order to prepare the soda of commerce (which is the carbonate) from common salt, it is first con- verted into Glauber's salt (sulphate of soda). For this purpose 80 pounds weight of concentrated sulphuric acid (oil of vitrol) are required to 100 pounds of common salt. The duty upon salt checked, for a short time, the full advantage of this discovery ; but when the government repealed the duty, and its price was reduced to its mini mum, the cost of soda depended upon that of sul- phuric acid. The demand for sulphuric acid now increased to an immense extent ; and, to supply it, capital 34 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY was embarked abundantly, as ii afforded an ex- cellent remuneration. The origin and formation of sulphuric acid was studied most carefully; and from year to year, better, simpler, and cheaper methods for making it were discovered. With every im- provement in the mode of manufacture, its price fell ; and its sale increased in an equal ratio. Sulphuric acid is now manufactured in leaden chambers, of such magnitude that they would contain the whole of an ordinary sized house. As regards the process and the apparatus, this manu- facture has reached its acme — scarcely is either susceptible of improvement. The leaden plates of which the chambers are constructed, requiring to be joined together with lead (since tin or solder would be acted on by the acid), this process was, until lately, as expensive as the plates themselves ; but now, by means of the oxy-hydrogen blow- pipe, the plates are cemented together at their edges, by mere fusion, without the intervention of any kind of solder. And then, as to the process ; according to theory, 100 pounds weight of sulphur ought to produce 306 pounds of sulphuric acid ; in practice, 300 pounds are actually obtained ; the amount of loss is therefore too insignificant for consideration. Again ; saltpetre being indispensable in making sulphuric acid, the commercial value of that salt MANUFACTURE OF SULPHURIC ACID. 35 had formerly an important influence upon its price. It is true that 100 pounds of saltpetre only are required to 1000 pounds of sulphur; but its cost was four times greater than an equal weight of the latter. Travellers had observed, near the small seaport of Yquiqui, in the district of Atacama, in Peru, an efflorescence covering the ground over ex- tensive districts. This was found to consist prin- cipally of nitrate of soda. Advantage was quickly taken of this discovery. The quantity of this valuable salt proved to be inexhaustible, as it exists in beds extending over more than 200 square miles. It was brought to England at less than half the freight of the East India saltpetre (nitrate of potassa) ; and as, in the chemical manu- facture, neither the potash nor the soda were required, but only the nitric acid, in combination with the alkali, the soda-saltpetre of South America soon supplanted the potash-nitre of the East. The manufacture of sulphuric acid received a new im- pulse ; its price was much diminished without injury to the manufacturer ; and, with the excep- tion of fluctuations, caused by the impediments thrown in the way of the export of sulphur from Sicily, it soon became reduced to a miidmum, and remained stationary. Potash-saltpetre is now only employed in the 36 LF.TTERS OF CHKMISTRY. manufaclure of gunpowder ; it is no longer in demand for other purposes ; and thus, if Govern- ment effect a saving of many hundred thousand pounds annually in gunpowder, this economy must be attributed to the increased manufacture of sulphuric acid. We may form an idea of the amount of sul- phuric acid consumed, when we find that 50,000 pounds weight are made by a small manufactory, and from 200,000 to 600,000 pounds by a large one, annually. This manufacture causes immense sums to flow annually into Sicily. It has intro- duced industry and wealth into the arid and desolate districts of Atacama. It has enabled us to obtain platina from its ores at a moderate and yet remunerating price ; since the vats employed for concentrating this acid are constructed of this metal, and cost from 1000/. to 2000/. sterling. It leads to frequent improvements in the manufacture of glass, which continually becomes cheaper and more beautiful. It enables us to return to our fields all their potash — a most valuable and im- portant manure — in the form of ashes, by sub- stituting soda in the manufacture of glass and soap. It is impossible to trace, within the compass of a letter, all the ramifications of this tissue of changes and improvements resulting from one chemical manufacture ; but I must still claim your NEW BLEACHING PROCESS. 37 attention to a few more of its most important and immediate results. I have already told you, that in the manufacture of soda from culinary salt, it is lirst converted into sulphate of soda. In this first part of tne process, the action of sulphuric acid produces primary muriatic acid to the extent of one and a half the amount of the sulphuric acid employ()d. At first, the profit upon the soda was so great that no one took the trouble to collect the muriatic acid ; indeed it had no commercial value. A profitable application of it was, however, soon discovered : it is a compound of chlorine, and this substance may be obtained from it purer than from any other source. The bleaching power of chlorine has long been known ; but it was only employed upon a large scale after it was ob- tained from residuary muriatic acid, and it was found that in combination with lime it could be transported to distances without inconvenience. Thenceforth it was used for bleaching cotton ; and, but for this new bleaching process, it would scarcely have been possible for the cotton manu- facture ot Great Britain to have attained its pres- ent enormous extent — it could not have com- jjeted in price with France and Germany. In the old process for bleaching, every piece must be exposed to the air and light during several weeks in the summer, and kept continually moist by 4 38 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. manual labor. For this purpose, meadow land, suitably situated, was essential. But a single establishment near Glasgow bleaches 1,400 pieces of cotton daily, throughout the year. What an enormous capital would be required to purchase land for this purpose ! How greatly would it in- crease the cost of bleaching to pay interest upon this capital, or to hire so much land in England ! This expense would scarcely have been felt in Germany. Beside the diminished expense, the cotton stuffs bleached with chlorine suffer less in the hands of skilful workmen than those bleached in the sun ; and already the peasantry in some parts of Germany hav^e adopted it, and find it ad- vantageous. Another use to which cheap muriatic acid is applied, is the manufacture of glue from bones. Bone contains from 30 to 36 per cent, of earthy matter — chiefly phosphate of lime, and the re- mainder is gelatine. When bones are digested in muriatic acid, they become transparent and flexible like leather, the earthy matter is dissolved, and after the acid is all carefully washed away, pieces of glue of the same shape as the bones re- main, which are soluble in hot water and adapted to all the purposes of ordinary glue, without fur- ther preparation. Another important application of sulphuric acid SILVER REFINING. 39 may be adduced, namely, to the refining o'f silver and the separation of gold, which is always present in some proportion in native silver. Silver, as it is usually obtained from mines in Europe, con- tains, in 16 ounces, 6 to 8 ounces of copper. When used by the silversniith, or in coining, 16 ounces must contain in Germany 13 ounces of silver, in England about 14},. But this alloy is always made artificially, by mixing pure silver with the due proportion of the copper ; and for this pur- pose the silver must be obtained pure by the re- finer. This he formerly effected by amalgama- tion f or by roasting it. with lead ; and the cost of this process was about 21. for every hundred weight of silver. In the silver so prepared, about l^QQ to 2oVo^^ P^^^ ^^ S*-*^^ remained. To effect the separation of this by nitric hydrochloric acid was more expensive than the value of the gold ; it was therefore left in utensils, or circulated in coin, valueless. The copper, too, of the native silver was of no use whatever. But the io^qq^^ P^^^ ^^ gold, being about one and one half per cent, of the value of the silver, now covers the cost of refining, and affords an adequate profit to the re- finer ; so that he effects the separation of the cop- per, and returns to his employer the whole amount of the pure silver, as well as the copper, without demanding any payment : he is amply remunerated 40 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. by that minute portion of gold. The new process of refining is a most beautiful chemical operation. The granulated metal is boiled in concentrated sulphuric acid, which dissolves both the silver and the copper, leaving the gold nearly pure, in the form of a black powder. The solution is then placed in a leaden vessel containing metallic cop- per ; this is gradually dissolved, and the silver precipitated in a pure metallic state. The sul- phate of copper is also a valuable product, being employed in the manufacture of green and blue pigments. Other immediate results^of the economical pro- duction of sulphuric acid, are the general employ- ment of phosphorus matches, and of stearine candles — that beautiful substitute for tallow and wax. Twenty-five years ago, the present prices and extensive applications of sulphuric and muri- atic acids, of soda, phosphorus, &c., would have been considered utterly impossible. Who is able to foresee what new and unthought-of chemical productions, ministering to the service and com- forts of mankind, the next twenty-five years may produce ? x\fter these remarks you will perceive that it is no exaggeration to say, we may fairly judge of the commercial prosperity of a country from the amount of sulphuric acid it cons'mies. Reflecting TRADE IN SULPHUR. 41 upon the important influence which the price of sulphur exercises upon the cost of production of bleached and printed cotton stuffs, soap, glass^ &c., and remembering that Great Britain supplies America, Spain, Portugal, and the East, with these, exchanging them for raw cotton, silk, wine, raisins, indigo, &c., &c., we can understand why the English Government should have resolved to resort to war with Naples, in order to abolish the sulphur monopoly, which the latter power at- tempted recently to establish. Nothing could be more opposed to the true interests of Sicily than such a monopoly ; indeed, had it been maintained a few years, it is highly probable that sulphur, the source of her wealth, would have been rendered perfectly A^alueless to her. Science and industry form a power to which it is dangerous to present impediments. It was not difficult to perceive that the issue would be the entire cessation of the ex- portation of sulphur from Sicily. In the short pe- riod the sulphur monopoly lasted, fifteen patents were taken out for methods to obtain back the sulphuric acid used in making soda. Admitting that these fifteen experiments were not perfectly successful, there can be no doubt it would ere long have been accomplished. But then, in gypsum (sulphate of lime), and in heavy-spar (sulphate of barytes), we possess mountains of sulphuric acid ] 4* 42 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. in galena (sulphate of lead), and in iron pyrites, we have no less abundance of sulphur. The prob- lem is, how to separate the sulphuric acid, or the sulphur, from these native stores. Hundreds of thousands of pounds weight of sulphuric acid were prepared from iron pyrites, while the high price of sulphur consequent upon the monopoly lasted. We should probably ere long have triumphed over all difficulties, and have separated it from gypsum. The impulse has been given, the possibility of the process proved, and it may happen in a few years that the inconsiderate financial speculation of Naples may deprive her of that lucrative com- merce, lu like manner Russia, by her prohibitory system, has lost much of her trade in tallow and potash. One country purchases only from absolute necessity from another, which excludes her own productions from her markets. Instead of the tallow and linseed oil of Russia, Great Britain'now uses palm oil and cocoa-nut oil of other countries. Precisely analogous is the combination of workmen against their employers, which has led to the con- struction of many admirable machines for superse- ding manual labor. In commerce and industry every imprudence carries with it its own punish- ment ; every oppression immediately and sensibly recoils upon the head of those from whom it em- anates. THEORY AND PRACTICE. 43 LETTER IV. My dear sir One of the most influential causes of improvement in the social condition of mankind is that spirit of enterprise which induces men of capital to adopt and carry out suggestions for the improvement of machinery, the creation of new articles of commerce, or the cheaper production of those already in demand ; and we can not but admire the energy with which such men devote their talents, their time, and their wealth, to realize the benefits of the discoveries and inventions of science. For even when they are expended upon objects wholly incapable of realization — nay, even when the idea which first gave the impulse proves in the end to be altogether impracticable or absurd, immediate good to the community generally en- sues ; some useful and perhaps unlooked-for result flows directly, or springs ultimately, from exer- tions frustrated in their main design. Thus it is also in the pursuit of science. Theories lead to experiments and investigations ; and he who inves- 44 LETTERS ON CHEMISTE-V. tigates will scarcely ever fail of being rewarded by discoveries. It may be, indeed, the theory sought to be established is entirely unfounded in nature ; but while searching in a right spirit for one thing, the inquirer may be rewarded by finding others far more valuable than those which he sought. At the present moment, electro-magnetism, as a moving power, is engaging great attention and study ; wonders are expected from its application to this purpose. According to the sanguine expec- tations of many persons, it will shortly be employed to put into motion every kind of machinery, and among other things it will be applied to impel the carriages of railroads, and this at so small a cost, that expense will no longer be matter of consider- ation. England is to lose her superiority as a manufacturing country, inasmuch as her vast store of coals will no longer avail her as an economical source of motive power. " We," say the German cultivators of this science, " have cheap zinc, and, how small a quantity of this metal is required to turn a lathe, and consequently to give motion to any kind of machinery !" Such expectations may be very attractive, and yet they are altogether illusory ! they will not bear the test of many simple calculations ; and this our friends have not troubled themselves to institute ELECTRO-MAGNETISM. ' 45 With a simple flame of spirits of wine, under a proper vessel containing boiling water, a small carriage of 200 to 300 pounds weight can be put into motion, or a weight of 80 to 100 pounds may be raised to a height of 20 feet. The same effects may be produced by dissolving zinc in dilute sul- phuric acid in a certain apparatus. This is cer- tainly an astonishing and highly interesting discov- ery ; but the question to be determined is, which of the two processes is the least expensive ? In order to answer this question, and to judge correctly of the hopes entertained from this dis- covery, let me remind you of what chemists de- nominate " equivalents." These are certain unal- terable ratios of effects which are proportionate to each other, and may therefore be expressed in numbers. Thus, if we require 8 pounds of oxy- gen to produce a certain effect, and we wish to employ chlorine for the same effect, we must em- ploy neither more nor less than 35^ pounds weight. In the same manner, 6 pounds weight of coal are equivalent to 32 pounds weight of zinc. The numbers representing chemical equivalents express very general ratios of effects, compre- hending for all bodies all the actions they are ca- pable of producing. If zinc be combined in a certain manner with another metal, and submitted to the action of dilute 46 'LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. sulphuric acid, it is dissolved in the form of an oxide ; it is in fact burned at the expense of the oxygen contained in the fluid. A consequence of this action is the production of an electric current which, if conducted through a wire, renders it magnetic. In thus effecting the solution of a pound weight, for example, of zinc, we obtain a definite amount of force adequate to raise a given weight one inch, and to keep it suspended ; and the amount of weight it will be capable of suspending will be the greater the more rapidly the zinc is dissolved. By alternately interrupting and renewing the contact of the zinc with the acid, and by very sim- ple mechanical arrangements, we can give to the iron an upward and downward or a horizontal mo- tion, thus producing the conditions essential to the motion of any machinery. This moving force is produced by the oxidation of the zinc ; and, setting aside the name given to the force in this case, we know that it can be pro- duced in another manner. If we burn the zinc under the boiler of a steam-engine, consequently in the oxygen of the air, instead of the galvanic pile, we should produce steam, and by it a certain amount of force. If we should assume (which, however, is not proved), that the quantity of force is unequal in these cases — that, for instance, we ELECTRO-MAGNETISM. 47 had obtained double or triple the amount in the galvanic pile, or that in -this mode of generating force less loss is sustained — we must still recollect the equivalents of zinc and coal, and make these elements of our calculation. According to the ex- periments of Despretz, 6 pounds weight of zinc, in combining with oxygen, develop no more heat than 1 pound of coal ; consequently, under equal conditions, we can produce six times the amount of force with a pound of coal as with a pound of zinc. It is therefore obvious that it would be more advantageous to employ coal instead of zinc, even if the latter produced four times as much force in a galvanic pile, as an equal weight of coal by its combustion under a boiler. Indeed it is highly probable, that if we burn under the boiler of a steam-engine the quantity of coal required for smelting the zinc from its ores, we shall produce far more force than the whole of the zinc so obtained could originate in any form of apparatus whatever. Heat, electricity, and magnetism, have a similar relation to each other as the chemical equivalents of coal, zinc, and oxygen. By a certain measure of electricity w*e produce a corresponding propor- tion of heat or of magnetic power ; we obtain that electricity by chemical affinity, which in one shape produces heat, in another electricity or mag- netism. A certain amount of affinity produces an 48 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. equivalent of electricity in the same manner as, on the other hand, we decompose equivalents of chemical compounds by a definite measure of elec- tricity. The magnetic force of the pile is there- fore limited to the extent of the chemical affinity, and in the case before us is obtained by the com- bination of the zinc and sulphuric acid. In the combustion of coal, the heat results from, and is measured by, the affinity of the oxygen of the at- mosphere for that substance. It is true that, with a very small expense of zinc, we can make an iron wire a magnet capable of sustaining a thousand pounds weight of iron : let as not allow ourselves to be misled by this. Such a magnet could not raise a single pound weight of iron two inches, and therefore could not impart motion. The magnet acts like a rock, which while at rest presses with a weight of a thousand pounds upon a basis : it is like an enclosed lake, without an outlet and without a fall. But it may be said, we have, by mechanical arrangements, given it an outlet and a fall. True ; and this must be regarded as a great triumph of mechanics ; and I believe it is susceptible of further improvements, by which greater force may be obtained. But with every conceivable advantage of mechanism, no one will dispute that one pound of coal, under the boiler of a steam-engine, will give motion to a mass several ELECTRO-MAGNETISM. 49 hundred times greater than a pound of zinc in the galvanic pile. Our experience of the employment of electro- magnetism as a motory power is, however, too recent to enable us to foresee the ultimate results of contrivances to apply it ; and, therefore, those who have devoted themselves to solve the problem of its application should not be discouraged, inas- 'rauch as it would undoubtedly be a most important achievement to supersede the steam-engine, and thus escape the danger of railroads, even at double their expense. Professor Weber of Gottingen has thrown out a suggestion, that if a contrivance could be devised to enable us to convert at will the wheels of the steam-carriage into magnets, we should be enabled to ascend and descend acclivities with great facil- ity. This notion may ultimately be, to a certain extent, realized. The employment of the galvanic pile as a mo- tory power, however, must, like every other con- trivance, depend upon the question of its relative economy : probably some time hence it may so far succeed as to be adopted in certain favorable lo- calities ; it may stand in the same relation to steam power as the manufacture of beet sugar bears to that of cane, or as the production of gas from oils and resins to that from mineral coal. 5 50 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. The history of beet-root sugar aflords us an excellent illustration of the effect of prices upon commercial productions. This branch of industry- seems at length, as to its processes, to be perfected. The most beautiful white sugar is now manufac- tured from the beet-root, in the place of the treacle- like sugar, having the taste of the root, which was first obtained ; and instead of 3 or 4 per cent., the proportion obtained by A chard, double or even treble that amount is now produced. And notwith- standing the perfection of the manufacture, it is probable it will ere long be in most places entirely discontinued. In the years 1824 to 1 827, the prices of agricultural produce were much lower than at present, while the price of sugar was the same. At that time one maker* of wheat was \0s., and one klafterf of wood I8s., and land was falling in price. Thus, food and fuel were cheap, and the demand for sugar unlimited ; it was, therefore, advantageous to grow beet-root, and to dispose of the produce of land as sugar. All these circumstances are now different. A maker of wheat costs I8s.; a klafter of wood, 305. to 36^. Wages have risen, but not in proportion, while the price of colonial sugar has fallen. Within the limits of the German * Malter — a measure containing sever^il bushels, but varying in different countries. t Klafter — a cord, a stack, measuring six f« et every way. BEET-ROOT SUGAR. 51 commercial league, as, for instance, at Frankfort- on-the-Maine, a pound of the whitest and best loaf sugar is Id. ; the import duty is 3f(i., or 30^. per cwt., leaving 3^d. as the price of the sugar. In the year 1827, then, one malter of wheat was equal to 40 lbs. weight of sugar, w^hile at present that quantity of wheat is worth 70 lbs. of sugar. If indeed fuel were the same in price as formerly, and 70 lbs. of sugar could be obtained from the same quantity of the root as then yielded 40 lbs., it might still be advantageously produced ; but the amount, if now obtained by the most approved methods of extraction, falls far short of this ; and as fuel is double the price, and labor dearer, it follows that, at present, it is far more advantageous to cultivate wheat and to purchase sugar. There are, however, other elements which must enter into our calculations ; but these serve to con- firm our conclusion that the manufacture of beet- root sugar as a commercial speculation must cease. The leaves and residue of the root, after the juice was expressed, were used as food for cattle, and their value naturally increased with the price of grain. By the process formerly pursued, 75 lbs. weight of juice were obtained from 100 lbs. of beet-root, and gave 5 lbs. of sugar. The method of Schiitzenbach, which was eagerly adopted by the manufacturers, produced from the same quantity 52 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. of root 8 lbs. of sugar; but it was attended wi.h more expense to produce, and the loss of the residue as food for cattle. The increased expense in this process arises from the larger quantity of fuel required to evaporate the water ; for instead of merely evaporating the juice, the dry residue is treated with water, and we require fuel sufficient to evaporate 106 lbs. of fluid instead of 75 lbs., and the residue is only fit for manure. The additional 3 lbs. of sugar are purchased at the expense of much fuel, and the loss of the residue as an article of food. If the valley of the Rhine possessed mines of diamonds as rich as those of Golconda, Visiapoor, or the Brazils, they would probably not be worth the working : at those places the cost of extraction is 28^. to 30s. the carat. With us it amounts to three or four times as much — to more, in fact, than diamonds are worth in the market. The sand of the Rhine contains gold ; and in the Grand Dutchy of Baden many persons are occupied in gold-wash- ing when wages are low ; but as soon as they rise, this employment ceases. The manufacture of sugar from beet-root, in like manner, twelve to fourteen years ago, offered advantages which are now lost : instead, therefore, of maintaining it at a great sacrifice, it would be more rea&onable, more in accordance with true natural economy, to cultivate GAS MANUFACTURE. 53 Other and more valuable productions, and with thera purchase sugar. Not only would the state be a gainer, but every member of the community. This argument does not apply, perhaps, to France and Bohemia, where the prices of fuel and of colonial sugar are very different to those in Germany. The manufacture of gas for lighting, from coals, resin, and oils, stands with us on the same barren ground. The materials from which gas is manufactured in England bears a direct proportion to the price of corn ; there the prices of tallow and oil are twice as great as in Germany, but iron and coal are two thirds cheaper ; and even in England the manufacture of gas is only advantageous when the other products of the distillation of coal, the coke, etc., can be sold. It would certainly be esteemed one of the great- est discoveries of the age if any one could succeed in condensing coal gas into a white, dry, solid, odorless substance, portable, and capable of being placed upon a candlestick, and burned in a lamp. Wax, tallow, and oil, are combustible gases in a solid or fluid form, which ofler many advantages for lighting, not performed by gas : they furnish, in well-constructed lamps, as much light, without requiring the expensive apparatus necessary for the combustion of gas, and they are generally more 54 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. economical. In large towns, or such establish- ments as hotels, where coke is in demand, and where losses in stolen tallow or oil must be con- sidered, together with the labor in snuffing candles . and cleaning lamps, the higher price of gas is compensated. In places where gas can be man- ufactured from resin, oil of turpentine, and other cheap oil, as at Frankfort, this is advantageous so long as it is pursued on a small scale only. If large towns were lighted in the same manner, the materials would rise in price : the whole amount at present produced would scarcely suffice for two such towns as Berlin and Munich. But no just calculation can be made from the present prices of turpentine, resin, &c., which are not produced upon any large scale. laOMEiilaji. 5S \ v7tti:r V Mv^ DEAR SIR : Until very recently it was sup- posed that the physical qualities of bodies, that is, hardness, color, destiny, transparency, &c., and still more their chemical properties, must depend upon the nature of their elements, or upon their composition. It was tacitly received as a princi- ple, that two bodies containing the same elements in the same proportion, must of necessity possess the same properties. We could not imagine an exact identity of composition, giving rise to two bodies entirely different in their sensible appear- ance and chemical relations. The most ingenious philosophers entertained the opinion that chemical combination is an inter-penetration of the particles of different kinds of matter, and that all matter is susceptible of infinite division. This has proved to be altogether a mistake. If matter were in- finitely divisible in this sense, its particles must be imponderable, and a million of such molecules could not weigh more than an infinitely small one. 5b LETTERS ON CHEWISTRY. But the particles of that imponderable matter, which, striking upon the retina, gives us the sensation of light, are not in a mathematical sense infinitely small. Inter-penetration of elements in the production of a chemical compound, supposes two distinct bodies, A and B, to t/cc(jpy o-.ic a.id the same space at the same time. If this were so, different prop- erties could not exist with an equal and iderti- cal composition. That hypothesis, however, has shared the fate of innumerable imaginative explanations of natural phenomena, in which our predecessors indulged. They have now no advocate. The force of truth dependant upon observation is irresistible. A great many substances have been discovered among organic bodies, composed of the same elements in the same relative proportions, and yet exhibiting physical and chemical properties perfectly distinct one from another. To such sub- stances the term Isomeric (from '^-'s equal and /^«^po5 part) is applied. A great class of bodies known as the volatile oils, oil of turpentine, essence of lemons, oil of balsam, of copaiba, oil of rosemary, oil of juniper, and many others, differing widely from each other in their odor, in their medicinal effects, in their boiling point, in their specific gravity, &c., are exactly identical in composition, ISOMERISM. 57 ' — they contain the same elements, carbon and hydrogen, in the same proportions. How admirably simple does the chemistry of organic nature present itself to us from this poini of view. An extraordinary variety of compound bodies produced with equal weights of two ele- ments ! and how wide their dissimilarity ! The crystalHzed part of the oil of roses, the delicious fragrancy of which is so well known, a solid at ordinary temperatures, although readily volatile, is a compound body containing exactly the same elements, and in the same proportion, as the gas we employ for lighting our streets ; and, in short, the same elements, in the same relative quantities, are found in a dozen other compounds, all differing essentially in their physical and chemical prop- erties. These remarkable truths, so highly important in their applications, were not received and ad- mitted assufficiently established, without abundant proofs. Many examples have long been known where the analysis of two different bodies gave the same composition ; but such cases were re- garded as doubtful : at any rate, they were isolated observations, homeless in the realms of science, until, at length, examples were discovered of two or more bodies, whose absolute identity of com- position, with totally distinct properties, could be 58 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. demonstrated in a more obvious and conclusive manner than by mere analysis ; that is, they can be converted and reconverted into each other without addition and without subtraction. In cyanuric acid, hydrated cyanic acid, and cy amelide, we have three such isomeric compounds Cyanuric acid is crystalUne, soluble in water and capable of forming salts with metallic oxides Hydrated cyanic acid is a volative and highly blistering fluid, which can not be brought into contact with water, without being instantaneously decomposed. Cyamelide is a white substance very like por- celain, absolutely insoluble in water. Now if we place the first, — cyanuric acid, — in a vessel hermetically sealed, and apply a high degree of heat, it is converted by its influence into hydrated cyanic acid ; and, then, if this is kept for some time at the common temperature, it passes into cyamelide, no other element being present. And, again inversely, cyamelide can be converted into cyanuric acid and hydrated cyanic acid. We have three other bodies which pass through similar changes, in aldehyde, metaldehyde, and eltaldehyde ; and, again two, in urea and cyanuret of ammonia. Further, 100 parts of aldehyde hydrated butyric acid and acetic ether contain the same elements iji the same proportion. Thus on« INDIVISIBILITY OF MATTER. 59 substance may be converted into another without addition or subtraction, and without the participa- tion of any foreign bodies in the change. The doctrine that matter is not infinitely divisible, but on the contrary, consists of atoms incapable of further division, alone furnishes us with a satisfactory explanation of these phenomena. In chemical combinations, the ultimate atoms of bodies do not penetrate each other, they are only arranged side by side in a certain order, and the properties of the compound depend entirely upon this order. If they are made to change their place — their mode of arrangement — by an impulse from without, they combine again in a different manner, and another compound is formed with totally different properties. We may suppose that one atom combines with one atom of another element to form a compound atom, while in other bodies, two and two, four and four, eight and eight, are united ; so that in all such compounds the amount per cent, of the elements is absolutely equal ; and yet their physical and chemical prop- erties must be totally different, the constitution of each atom being peculiar, in one body consist- ing of two, in another of four, in the third of eight, and in a fourth of sixteen simple atoms. The discovery of these facts immediately led to many most beautiful and interesting results -, they 60 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. furnished us with a satisfactory explanation of observations which were before veiled in mystery — a key to many of nature's most curious recesses Again, solid bodies, whether simple or com- pound, are japable of existing in two states, which are known by the terms amorphous and crystalline. When matter is passing from a gaseous or liquid state slowly into a solid, an incessant motion is observed, as if the molecules were minute mag- nets ; they are seen to repel each other in one direction, and to attract and cohere together in another, and in the end become arranged into a regular form, which, under equal circumstances, is always the same for any given kind of matter ; that is, crystals are formed. Time and freedom of motion for the particles of bodies are necessary to the formation of crystals. If we force a fluid or a gas to become suddenly solid, leaving no time for its particles to arrange themselves, and cohere in that direction in which the cohesive attraction is strongest, no crystals will be formed, but the resulting solid will have a different color, a different degree of hardness and cohesion, and will refract light differently ; in one word, will be amorphous. Thus we have cinnabar as a red and a jet-black substance ; sulphur a fixed and brittle body, and soft, semitransparent ISOMORPHISM 61 and ductil»3 ; glass as a milk-white opaque sub- stance, so hard that it strikes fire with steel, and in its ordinary and well-known state. These dis- similar states and properties of the same body are occasioned in one case by a regular, in the other by an irregular arrangement of its atoms ; one is crystalline, the other amorphous. Applying these facts to natural productions, we have reason to believe that clay-slate and many kinds of greywacke are amorphous feldspar, as transition limestone is amorphous marble, basalt and lava mixtures of amorphous zeolite and augite. Anything that influences the cohesion, must also in a certain degree alter the properties of bodies. Carbonate of lime, if crystallized at ordinary tem- peratures, possesses the crystalline form, hardness, and refracting power of common spar ; if crystal- lized at a higher temperature, it has the form and properties of arragonite. Finally, Isomorphism or the equality of form of many chemical compounds having a different com- position, tends to prove that matter consists of atoms the mere arrangement of which produces all the properties of bodies. But when we find that a different arrangement of the same elements gives rise to various physical and chemical properties, and a similar arrangement of different elements produces properties very much the same^ may we 6 62 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. not inquire whether some of those bodies which we regard as elements may not be merely modifi- cations of the same substance ? whether they are not the same matter in a different state of arrange- ment ? We know in fact the existence of iron in two states, so dissimilar, that in the one, it is to the electric chain like platinum, and in the other it is like zinc ; so that powerful galvanic machines have been constructed of this one metal. Among the elements are several instances of remarkable similarity of properties. Thus there is a strong resemblance between platinum and iri- dium ; bromine and iodine ; iron, manganese and magnesium ; cobalt and nickel ; phosphorus and arsenic ; but this resemblance consists mainly in their forming isomorphous compounds in which these elements exist in the same relative propor- tion. These compounds are similar, because the atoms of wliich they are composed are arranged in the same manner. The converse of this is also true : nitrate of strontia becomes quite dissimilar to its common state if a certain proportion of wa- ter is taken into its composition. If we suppose selenium to be merely modified sulphur and phosphorus, modified arsenic, how does it happen, we must inquire, that sulphuric acid and selenic acid, phosphoric and arsenic acid, respectively form compounds which it is impossible INCOxWERTIBILITY OF ELEMENTS. 63 to distinguish by their form and solubility ? Were these merely isomeric they ought to exhibit prop- erties quite dissimilar ! We have not, I believe, at present the remotest ground to suppose that any one of those substances which chemists regard as elements can be convert- ed into another. Such a conversion, indeed, would presuppose that the element was composed of two or more ingredients, and was in fact not an ele- ment ; and until the decomposition of these bodies is accomplished, and their constituents discovered, all- pretensions to such conversions deserve no notice. Mr. Brown of Edinburgh thought he had con- verted iron into rhodium, and carbon or paracya- nogen into silicon. His paper upon this subject was published in the Transactions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh, and contained internal evi- dence, without a repetition of his experiments, that he was totally unacquainted with the princi- ples of chemical analysis. But his experiments have been carefully repeated by qualified persons, and they have completely proved his ignorance : his rhodium is iron, and his silicon an impure in- combustible coal. 64 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY LETTER VI. My dear sir : One of the most remarkable effects of the recent progress of science is the alliance of chemistry with physiology, by which a new and unexpected light has been thrown upon the vital processes of plants and animals. We have now no longer any difficulty in understanding the different actions of aliments, poisons, and re- medial agents — we have a clear conception of the causes of hunger, of the exact nature of death ; and we are not, as formerly, obliged to content our- selves with a mere description of their symptoms. It is now ascertained with positive certainty, that all the substances which constitute the food of man must be divided into two great classes, one of which serves for the nutrition and reproduction of the animal body, while the other ministers to quite different purposes. Thus starch, gum, sugar, beer, wine, spirits, (fee, furnish no element capable of entering into the composition of blood, muscular fibre, or any part which is the seat of the vital principle. It must surely be universally interest- ing to trace the great change our views have ORGANIC CHEMISTRY. 65 undergone upon these subjects, as well as to be- come acquainted with the researches from which our present knowledge is derived. The primary conditions of the maintenance of animal life, are a constant supply of certain mat- ters, animal food, and of oxygen, in the shape of atmospheric air. During every moment of lifcj oxygen is absorbed from the atmosphere in the organs of respiration, and the act of breathing can not cease while life continues. The observations of physiologists have demon- strated that the body of an adult man supplied abundantly with food neither increases nor dimin- ishes in weight during twenty-four hours, and yet the quantity of oxygen absorbed into his system, in that period, is very considerable. According to the experiments of Lavoisier, an adult man takes into his system from the atmosphere, in one year, no less than 746 pounds weight of oxygen ; the calculations of Menzies make the quantity amount even to 837 pounds ; but we find his weight at the end of the year either exactly the same, or differing one way or other by at most a few pounds. What, it may be asked, has become of the enormous amount of oxygen thus introduced into the human system in the course of one year ? We can answer this question satisfactorily. No part of the oxygen remains in the body, but is 6* Hi) LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. given out again, combined with carbon and hydro gen. The carbon and hydrogen of certain parta of the animal body combine with the oxygen in- troduced through the kmgs and skin, and pass off in the forms of carbonic acid and vapor of water. At every expiration and every moment of life, a certain amount of its elements are separated from the animal organism, having entered into combi- nation with the oxygen of the atmosphere. In order to obtain a basis for an approximate calculation, we may assume, with Lavoisier and Seguin, that an adult man absorbs into his system 32^ ounces of oxygen daily — that is, 46,037 cubic inches = 15,661 grains, French weight; and fur- ther, that the weight of the whole mass of his blood is 24 pounds, of which 80 per cent, is water. Now, from the known composition of the blood, we know that in order to convert its whole amount of car- bon and hydrogen into carbonic acid and water 64.102 grains of oxygen are required. This quantity will be taken into the system in four days and five hours. Whether the oxygen enters into combination directly with the elements of tho blood, or with the carbon and hydrogen of other parts of the body, it follows inevitably — the weight of the body remaining unchanged and in a nor- mal condition — that as much of these elements as will suffice to supply 24 pounds of blood, must be OXYGEN AND CARBON. 67 taken into the system in four days and five hours ; and this necessary amount is furnished by the food. We have not, however, remained satisfied with mere approximation : we have determined accu- rately, in certain cases, the quantity of carbon taken daily in the food, and of that which passes out of the body in the faeces and urine combined — that is, uncombined with oxygen ; and from these in- vestigations it appears that an adult man, taking moderate exercise, consumes ISj^^ ounces of car- bon, which pass off through the skin and lungs as carbonic acid gas.* It requires 37 ounces of oxygen to convert 13j^Q of carbon into carbonic acid. Again : ac- cording to the analysis of Boussingault (Annales de Chim. et de Phys., Ixx. i., p. 136), a horse consumes 79 j^^ ounces of carbon in twenty-four hours, a milch cow 70| ounces ; so that the horse * This account is deduced from observations made upon the averas:e daily consumption of about 30 soldiers in bar- racks. The food of these men, consisting of meat, bread, potatoes, lentiles, peas, beans, butter, salt, pepper, &c., was accurately weighed during a month, and each article subjected to ultimate analysis. Of the quantity of food, beer, and spirits, taken by the men when out of barracks, we have a close approximation from the report of the ser- geant ; and from the weight and analysis of the faeces and urine, it appears that the carbon which passes off through these channels may be considered equivalent to the amount taken in that portion of the food, and of sour-crout, which was not included in the estimate. 68 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. requires 13 pounds 3 J ounces, and the cow 11 pounds iO| ounces of oxygen.* As no part of the oxygen taken into the system of an animal is given off in ai y other form than combined with carbon or hydrogen, and as in a normal condition, or state of health, the carbon and hydrogen so given off are replaced by those elements in the food, it is evident that the amount of nourishment required by an animal for its sup- port must be in a direct ratio with the quantity of oxygen taken into its system. Two animals which in equal times take up by means of the lungs and skin unequal quantities of oxygen, consume an amount of food unequal in the same ratio. The consumption of oxygen in a given time may be expressed by the number of respirations ; it is therefore obvious, that in the same animal the quantity of nourishment required must vary with the force and number of respirations. A child breathes quicker than an adult, and consequently "equires food more frequently and proportionably m larger quantity, and bears hunger less easily. A bird deprived of food dies on the third day, while a serpent, confined under a bell, respires so slowly that the quantity of carbonic acid genera- ted in an hour can scarcely be observed, and it will live three months, or longer, without food, • 16 ounces=| kilogramme. BALANCE OF OXYGEN AND CARBON. 69 fhe number of respirations is fewer in a state of rest than during labor or exercise ; the quantity of food necessary in both cases must be in the same ratio. An excess of food, a want of a due amount of respired oxygen, or of exercise, as also great exercise (which obliges us to take an in- creased supply of food), together with weak or- gans of digestion, are incompatible with health. But the quantity of oxygen received by an ani- mal through the lungs not only depends upon the number of respirations, but also upon the tempera- ture of the respired air. The size of the thorax of an animal is unchangeable ; we may therefore regard the volume of air which enters at every in- spiration as uniform. But its weight, and conse- quently the amount of oxygen it contains, is not constant. Air is expanded by heat, and contracted by cold — an equal volume of hot and cold air con- tains, therefore, an unequal amount of oxygen. In summer, atmospheric air contains water in the form of vapor ; it is nearly deprived of it in winter. The volume of oxygen in the same volume of air is smaller in summer than in winter. In summer and winter, at the pole and at the equator, we in- spire an equal volume of air ; the cold air is warmed during respiration, and acquires the temperature of the body. In order, therefore, to introduce into the lungs a given amount of oxygen, less expendi 70 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. ture of force is necessary in winter than in sum- mer, and for the same expenditure of force more oxygen is inspired in winter. It is also obvious that in an equal number of respirations we consume more oxygen at the level of the sea than on a mountain* The oxygen taken into the system is given out again in the same form, both in summer and win- ter ; we expire more carbon at a low than at a high temperature, and require more or less carbon in our food in the same proportion ; and conse- quently more is respired in Sweden than in Sicily, and in our own country an eighth more in winter than in summer. Even if an equal weight of food is consumed in hot and cold climates. Infinite Wis- dom has ordained that very unequal proportions of carbon shall be taken in it. The food prepared for the inhabitants of southern clirjes does not contain in a fresh state more than 12 per cent, of carbon, while the blubber and train oil which feed the inhabitants of polar regions contain 66 to 80 per cent, of that element. From the same cause it is comparatively easy to be temperate in warm climates, oi to bear hunger for a long time under the equator ; but cold and hunger united very soon produce exhaustion. The oxygen of the atmosphere received into the blood in the lungs, and circulated throughout ev- ery part of the animal body, acting upon the ele- ments of the food, is the source of animal heat. SOURCE OF ANIMAL HEAT. 71 LETTER VII. My dear sir : The source of animal heat, its laws, and the influence it exerts upon the func- tions of the animal body, constitute a curious and highly interesting subject, to which I would now direct your attention. All living creatures, whose existence depends upon the absorption of oxygen, possess within themselves a source of heat, independent of sur- rounding objects. This general truth applies to all animals, and extends to the seed of plants in the act of ger- mination, to flower-buds when developing, and fruits during their maturation. In the animal body, heat is produced only in those parts to which arterial blood, and with it the oxygen absorbed in respiration, is conveyed. Hair, wool, and feathers, receive no arterial blood, and therefore in them no heat is developed. The combination of a combustible substance M'ith oxy- gen is, under all circumstances, the only source of animal heat. In w^hatever way carbon may combine with oxygen, the act of combination is 72 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. accompanied by the disengagement of heat. It is indifferent whether this combination takes place rapidly or slowly, at a high or at a low tempera- ture ; the amomit of heat liberated is a constant quantity. The carbon of the food being converted into car- bonic acid within the body, must give out exactly as much heat as if it had been directly burnt in oxygen gas or in common air ; the only difference is, the production of the heat is diffused over un- equal times. In oxygen gas the combustion of carbon is rapid, and the heat intense ; in atmo spheric air it bums slower and for a longer time, the temperature being lower ; . in the animal body the combination is still more gradual, and the heat is lower in proportion. It is obvious that the amount of heat liberated must increase or diminish with the quantity of oxygen introduced in equal times by respiration. Those animals therefore which respire frequently, and consequently consume much oxygen, possess a higher temperature than others, which, with a body of equal size to be heated, take into the sys- tem less oxygen. The temperature of a child (102°) is higher than that of an adult (99.5°). That of birds (104° to 105.4°) is higher than that of quadrupeds (98.5° to 100.4°) or than that of fishes or amphibia,whose proper temperature is from LOSS AND SUPPLY OF ANIMAL HEAT. 73 2.7° to 3.6*^ higher than that of the medium in which they live. All animals, strictly speaking, are warm-blooded ; but in those only which pos- sess lungs is the temperature of the body quite independent of the surrounding medium. The most trustworthy observations prove that in all climates, in the temperate zones, as well as at the equator or the poles, the temperature of the body in man, and in what are commonly called warm-blooded animals, is invariably the same ; yet how different are the circumstances under which they live ! The animal body is a heated mass, which bears the same relation to surrounding objects as any other heated mass. It receives heat when the surrounding objects are hotter, it loses heat when they are colder than itself. We know that the rapidity of cooling increases with the difference between the temperature of th« heated body and that of the surrounding medium ; that is, the colder the surrounding medium the shorter the time required for the cooling of the heated body. How unequal, then, must be the loss of heat in a man at PaLrmo, where the external temperature is nearly equal to that of the body, and in the polar legions, where the external temperature is froic 70 to 90 degrees lower ! 7 74 LKTTERS ON CHEMISTRY. Yet, notwithstanding this extremely unequal loss of heat, experience has shown that the blood of the inhabitant of the arctic circle has a tempera- ture as high as that of the native of the south, who lives in so different a medium. This fact, when its true significance is perceiv- ed, proves that the heat gi\en off to the surround- ing medium is restored within the body with great rapidity. This compensation must consequently take place more rapidly in winter than in summer, at the pole than at the equator. Now, in different climates the quantity of oxy- gen introduced into the system by respiration, as has been already shown, varies according to the temperature of the external air ; the quantity of inspired oxygen increases with the loss of heat by external cooling, and the quantity of carbon or hydrogen necessary to combine with this oxygen must be increased in the same ratio. It is evident that the supply of the heat lost by cooling is effected by the mutual action of the ele- ments of the food and the inspired oxygen, which combine together. T« make use of a familiar, but not on that account a less just illustration, the animal body acts, in this respect, as a furnace, which we supply with fuel. It signifies nothing what intermediate forms food may assun^e, what changes it may undergo in the body, the last LOSS AND SUPPLY OF ANIMAL HEAT: 75 change is uniformly the conversion of its carbon Tito carbonic acid, and of its hydrogen into water. The unassiniilated nitrogen of the food, along with he unburned or unoxidized carbon, is*expelled in the urine or in the solid excrements. In order to keep up in the furnace a constant temperature, we must vary the supply of fuel according to the ex- ternal temperature, that is, according to the supply of oxygen. In the animal body the food is the fuel ; with a proper supply of oxygen we obtain the heat given out during its c»xidation or combustion. In winter, when we take exercise in a cold atmosphere, and when consequently the amount of inspired oxygen increases, the necessity for food containing carbon and hydrogen increases in the same ratio ; and by gratifying the appetite thus excited, we obtain the most efficient protection against the most piercing cold. A starving man is soon frozen to death. The animals of prey in the arctic regions, as every one knows, far exceed in voracity those of the tor- rid zone. In cold and temperate climates, the air, which incessantly strives to consume the body, urges man to laboiious efforts in order to furnish the means of resistance to its action, while, in hot climates, the necessity of labor to provide food is far less urgent. Our clothing is merely an equivalent for a cer- 76 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. tain amount of food. The more warmly we aie clothed the less urgent becomes the appetite for food, because the loss of heat by cooling, and con- sequently the amount of heat to be supplied by the food; is diminished. If we were to go naked, like certain savage tribes, or if in hunting or fishing we were exposed to the same degree of cold as the Samoyedes, we should be able with ease to consume 10 pounds of flesh, and perhaps a dozen of tallow candles into the bargain, daily, as warmly clad travellers have related with astonishment of these people. We should then also be able to take the same quantity of brandy or train oil without bad effects, because the carbon and hydrogen of these substances would only suffice to keep up the equilibrium between the external temperature and that of our bodies. According to the preceding expositions, the quantity of food is regulated by the number of respirations, by the temperature of the air, and by the amount of heat given off to the surrounding medium. No isolated fact, apparently opposed to this statement, can affect the truth of this natural law. Without temporary or permanent injury to health, the Neapolitan can not take more carbon and hy- drogen in the shape of food than he expires as <;arbonic acid and water ; and the Esquimaux can INFLUENCE OF CLIMATE ON HEALTH. 77 not expire more carbon and hydrogen than he takes into the system as food, unless in a state of disease or of starvation. Let us examine these states a little more closely. The Englishman in Jamaica perceives with re- gret the disappearance of his appetite, previously a source of frequently recurring enjoyment ; and he succeeds by the use of cayenne pepper and the most powerful stimulants, in enabling himself to take as much food as he was accustomed to eat at home. But the whole of the carbon thus intro- duced into the system is not consumed ; the tem- perature of the air is too high, and the oppressive heat does not allow him to increase the number of respirations by active exercise, and thus to pro- portion the waste to the amount of food taken ; disease of some kind, therefore, ensues. On the other hand, England sends her sick lo southern regions, where the amount of the oxygen inspired is diminished in a very 1? -ge proportion. Those whose diseased digestive oi-^ai.s 'lave in a greater or less degree lost the powei of bringing the food into the state best adapted for oxidation, and therefore are less able to resist the oxidising influence of the atmosphere of their native climate, obtain a great improvement in health. The dis- eased organs of digestion have power to place the diminished amount of food in equilibrium with the 7* 78 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. inspired oxygen, in the mild climate ; while in a colder region the organs of respiration themselves would have been consumed in furnishing the ne- cessary resistance to the action of the atmospheric oxygen. In c :r climate, hepatic diseases, or those arising fror:. excess of carbon, prevail in summer; in win- tei, pulmonary diseases, or those arising from ex- cess of oxygen are more frequent. The cooling of the body, by whatever cause it may be produced, increases the amount of food necessary. The mere exposure to the open air, in a carriage or on the deck of a ship, by increasing radiation and vaporisation, increases the loss of heat, and compels us to eat more than usual. The same is true of those who are accustomed to drink large quantities of cold water, which is given off at the temperature of the body, 98.5 degrees. It in- creases the appetite, and persons of weak consti- tution find i; necessary, by continued exercise, to supply to the .system the oxygen required to restore the heat abstracted by the cold water. Loud and long continued speaking, the crying of infants, moist air, all exert a decided and appreciable influ- ence on the amount of food which is taken. We have assumed that it is especially carbon and hydrogen which, by combining with oxygen, serve to produce animal heat. In fact, observa- THE FUEL OF ANIMAL HFAT. 79 tion proves that the hydrogen of the food plays a not less important part than the carbon. The whole process of respiration appears most clearly developed, when we consider the state of a man, or other animal, totally deprived of food. The first effect of starvation is the disappearance of fat, and this fat can not be traced either in the urine or in the scanty faeces. Its carbon and hy- drogen have been given off through the skin and lungs in the form of oxidized products ; it is ob- vious that they have served to support respiration. In the case of a starving man, 32^ oz. of oxygen enter the system daily, and are given out again in combination with a part of his body, Currie men- tions the case of an individual who was unable to swallow, and whose body lost 100 lbs. in weight during a mo5ith ; and, according to Martell (Trans. Linn. Soc, vol. xi., p. 41 1), a fat pig, overwhelmed in a slip of earth, lived 160 days without food, and was found to have diminished in weight, in that time, more than 120 lbs. The whole history of hybernating animals, and the well-established facts of the periodical accumulation, in various animals, of fat which, at other periods, entirely disappears, prove that the oxygen, in the respiratory process, consumes, without exception, all such substances as are capable of entering into combination with it. It combines with whatever is presented to it ; 80 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. and the deficiency of hydrogen is the only reason why carbonic acid is the chief product ; for, at the temperature o( the body, the affinity of hydrogen for oxygen far surpasses that of carbon for the same element. We know, in fact, that the graminivora expire a volume of carbonic acid equal to that of the oxygen inspired, while the carnivora, the only class of animals whose food contains fat, inspire more oxy- gen than is equal in volume to the carbonic acid expired. Exact experiments have shown, that in many cases only half the volume of oxygen is expired in the form of carbonic acid. These ob- servations can not be gainsaid, a'>d nrc far more convincing than those arbitrary and artificially produced phenomena, sometimes caHed experi- ments ; experiments which, made as too of-^en they are, without regard to the necessary and natural conditions, possess no value, and may be entirely dispensed with ; especially when, as in the present case, nature affords the opportunity for ob.'-^rva- tion, and when we make a rational use of that opportunity. In the progress of starvation, however, it is not only the fat which disappears, but also, by degrees, all such of the solids as are capable of being <]^s- solved. In the wasted bodies of those who h&"e suffered starvation, the muscles are shrunk ai'i AGENCY OF OXYGEN IN DISEASE. 81 unnaturally soft, and have lost their contractility ; all those parts of the body which were capable of entering into the state of motion have served to protect the remainder of the frame from the de- structive influence of the atmosphere. Toward the end, the particles of the brain begin to undergo the process of oxidation, and delirium, mania, and death close the scene ; that is to say, all resistance to the oxidising power of the atmospheric oxygen ceases, and the chemical process of eremacausis, or decay, commences, in which every part of the body, the bones excepted, enters into combination with oxygen. The time which is required to cause death by starvation depends on the amount of fat in the body, on the degree of exercise, as in labor or exertion of any kind, on the temperature of the air, and finally, on the presence or absence of water. Through the skin and lungs there escapes a certain quantity of water, and as the presence of water is essential to the continuance of the vital motions, its dissipation hastens death. Cases have occurred, in which a full supply of water being accessible to the sufferer, death has not occurred till after the lapse of twenty days. In one case, Lfe was sustained in this way for the period of sixty days. In all chronic diseases death is produced by the 82 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. same cause, namely, the chemical action of the atmosphere. When those substances are wanting; whose function in the organism is to support the process of respiration ; when the diseased organs are incapable of performing their proper function of producing these substances ; when they have lost the power of transforming the food into that shape in which it may, by entering into combina- tion with the oxygen of the air, protect the system from its influence, then, the substance of the or- gans themselves, the fat of the body, the substance of the muscles, the nerves, and the brain, are un- avoidably consumed. The true cause of death in these cases is the respiratory process, that is, the action of the atmosphere. A deficiency of food, and a want of power to convert the food into a part of the organism, are both, equally, a want of resistance ; and this is the negative cause of the cessation of the vital process. The flame is extinguished, because the oil is con- sumed ; and it is the oxygen of the air which has consumed it. In many diseases substances are produced which are incapable of assimilation. By the mere depri- vation of food, these substances are removed from the body without leaving a trace behind ; their elements have entered into combination with the oxygen of the air. RESPIRATION. 83 From the first moment that the function of the hmgs or of the skin is interrupted or disturbed, compounds, rich in carbon, appear in the urine, which acquires a brown color. Over the whole surface of the body oxygen is absorbed, and com- bines with all the substances which offer no re- sistance to it. In those parts of the body where the access of oxygen is impeded ; for example, in the arm-pits, or in the soles of the feet, peculiar compounds are given out, recognisable by their appearance, or by their odor. These compounds contain much carbon. Respiration is the falling weight — the bent spring, which keeps the clock in motion ; the in- spirations and expirations are the strokes of the pendulum which regulate it. In our ordinary time-pieces, we know with mathematical accuracy the effect produced on their rate of going, by changes in the length of the pendulum, or in the external temperature. Few, however, have a clear conception of the influence of air and temperature on the health of the human body ; and yet the re- search into the conditions necessary to keep it in the normal state, is not more difficult than in the case of a clock. 84 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY LETTER VIII. My dear sir : Having attempted in my last letter to explain to you the simple and admirable office subserved by the oxygen of the atmosphere in its combination with carbon in the animal body, I will now proceed to present you with some re- marks upon those materials which sustain its mechanisms in motion, and keep up their various functions — namely, the Aliments. If the increase of mass in an animal body, the development and reproduction of its organs depend upon the blood, then those substances only which are capable of being converted into blood can be properly regarded as nourishment. In order then to ascertain what parts of our food are nutritious, we must compare the composition of the blood with the composition of the various articles taken as food. Two substances require especial consideration as the chief ingredients of the blood ; one of these separates immediately from the blood when it is withdrawn from the circulation. ELEMENTS OF BLOOD. 85 It is well known that in this case blood coagu- lates, and separates into a yellowish liquid, the serum of the blood, and a gelatinous mass, which adheres to a rod or stick in soft, elastic fibres, when coagulating blood is briskly stirred. This is the jibrinc of the blood, which is identical in all its properties with muscular fibre, when the latter is purified from all foreign matters. The second principal ingredient of the blood is contained in the serum, and gives to this liquid all the properties of the white of eggs, with which it is indeed identical. When heated, it coagulates into a white elastic mass, and the coagulating sub- stance is called albumen. Fibrine and albumen, the r^hief ingredients of blood, contain, in all, seven chemical elements, among which nitrogen, phosphorus, and sulphur, are found. They contain also the earth of bones. The serum retains in solution sea salt and other salts of potash and soda, in which the acids are carbonic, phosphoric, and sulphuric acids. The globules of the blood contain fibrine and albumen, along with a red coloring matter, in which iron is a constant element. Beside these, the blood contains certain fatty bodies in small quantity, which differ from ordinary fats in several of their properties. Chemical analysis has led to the remarkable 8 86 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. result, that fibrine and albumen contain the same organic elements united in the same proportion — that is, that they are isomeric, their chemical com- position — the proportion of their ultimate elements — beinff identical. But the difference of their ex- ternal properties shows that the particles of which they are composed are arranged in a different or- der. (See ante, page 56). This conclusion has lately been beautifully con- firmed by a distinguished physiologist (Denis), who has succeeded in converting fibrine into albumen ; that is, in giving it the solubility, and coagulability by heat, which characterize the white of eg^. Fibrine and albumen, beside having the same composition, agree also in this, that both dissolve in concentrated muriatic acid, yielding a solution of an intense purple color. This solution, whether made with fibrine or albumen, has the very same reactions with all substances yet tried. Both albumen and fibrine, in the process of nu- trition, are capable of being converted into mus- cular fibre, and muscular fibre is capable of being reconverted into blood. These facts have long been established by physiologists, and chemistry has merely proved that these metamorphorses can be accorrplished under the influence of a certain force, without the aid of a third substance, or of its elements, and without the addition of any for- ELEMENTS OF ANIMAL TISSUES. 87 eign flement, or the separation of any element previously present in these substances. If we now compare the composition of all or- ganized parts with that of fibrine and albumen, the following relations present themselves : All parts of the animal body which have a de- cided shape, which form parts of organs, contain nitrogen. No part of an organ which possesses motion and life is destitute of nitrogen ; all of them contain likewise carbon and the elements of water ; the latter, however, in no case in the pro- portion to form water. The chief ingredients of the blood contain nearly 17 per cent, of nitrogen, and from numer- ous analyses it appears that no part of an organ contains less than 17 per cent, of nitrogen. The most convincing experiments and observa- tions have proved that the animal body is abso- lutely incapable of producing an elementary body, such as carbon or nitrogen, out of substances which do not contain it ; and it obviously follows, that all kinds of food fit for the production either of blood, or of cellular tissue, membranes, skin, hair, muscular fibre, &c., must contain a certain amount of nitrogen, because that element is essential to the composition of the above-named organs ; be- cause the organs can not create it from the other elements presented to them ; and, finally, because 88 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. no nitrogen is absorbed from the atmosphere in the vital process. The substance of the brain and nerves contains a large quantity of albumen, and, in addition to this, two peculiar fatty acids, distinguished from other fats by containing phosphorus (phosphoric acid). One of these contains nitrogen (Fremy), Finally, water and common fat are those ingre- dients of the body which are destitute of nitrogen. Both are amorphous, or unorganized, and only so far take part in the vital process as that their pres- ence is required for the due performance of the vital functions. The inorganic constituents of the body are iron, lime, magnesia, common salt, and the alkalies. The nutritive process is seen in its simplest form in carnivorous animals. This class of animals lives on the blood and liesh of the graminivora ; but this blood and flesh are, in all their properties, identical with their own. Neither chemical nor physiological differences can be discovered. The nutriment of carnivorous animals is derived originally from blood ; in their stomach it bcco'wes dissolved, and capable of reaching all other parts of the body ; in its passage it is again converted into blood, und from this blood are reproduced all those parts of their organization which have un dergone change or metamorphosis. ELEMENTS OF NUTRITION. 89 With the exception of hoofs, hair, feathers, and the earth of bones, every part of the food of car- nivorous animals is capable of assimilation. In a chemical sense, therefore, it may be said that a e-arnivorous animal, in supporting the vital process, consumes itself. That w^hich serves for its nutrition is identical with those parts of its or- ganization which are to be renewed. The process of nutrition in graminivorous ani- mals appears at first sight altogether different. Their digestive organs are less simple, and their food consists of vegetables, the great mass of which contains but little nitrog-en. From what substances, it may be asked, is the blood formed, by means of which their organs are developed ? This question may be answered with certainty. Chemical researches have shown, that all such parts of vegetables as can afford nutriment to ani- mals contain certain constituents which are rich in nitrogen ; and the most ordinary'' experience proves that animals require for their support and nutrition less of these parts of plants in proportion as they abound in the nitrogenized constituents. Animals can not be fed on matters destitute of these nitrogenized constituents. These important products of vegetation are espe- cially abundant in the seeds of the different kinds 8* 90 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. of grain, and of peas, beans, and lentils ; in the roots and the juices of what are commonly called vegetables. They exist, however, in all plants, without exception, and in every part of plants in larger or smaller quantity. These nitrogenized forms of nutriment in the vegetable kingdom may be reduced to three sub- stances, which are easily distinguished by their external characters. Two of them are soluble in water, the third is insoluble. When the newly-expressed juices of vegetables are allowed to stand, a separation takes place in a few minutes. A gelatinous precipitate, commonly of a green tinge, is deposited, and this, when acted on by liquids which remove the coloring matter, leaves a grayish white substance, well known to druggists as the deposite from vegetable juices. This is one of the nitrogenized compounds which serves for the nutrition of animals, and has been named vegetable jihrine. The juice of grapes is especially rich in this constituent, but it is most abundant in the seeds of wheat, and of the cerealia generally. It may be obtained from wheat flour by a mechanical operation, and in a state of toler- able purity ; it is then called gluten, but the glu- tinous property belongs, not to vegetable fibrine, but to a foreign substance, present in small quan- tW, which is not found in the other cerealia. ELEMENTS OF NUTRITION. ' 91 The method by which it is obtained sufficiently proves that it is insohible in water ; akhough we can not doubt that it was originally dissolved in the vegetable juice, from which it afterward separated, exactly as fibrine does from blood. The second nitrogenized compound remains dis- solved in the juice after the separation of the fibrioe. It does not separate from the juice at the ordinary temperature, but is instantly coagulated when the liquid containing it is heated to the boiling point. When the clarified juice of nutritious vege- tables, such as cauliflower, asparagus, mangel- wurzel, or turnips, is made to boil, a coagulum is formed, which it is absolutely impossible to dis- tinguish from the substance which separates as a coagulum, when the serum of blood, or the white of an egg, diluted with water, are heated to the boiling point. This is vegetable albumen. It is found in the greatest abundance in certain seeds, in nuts, almonds, and others, in which the starch of the gramineae is replaced by oil. The third nitrogenized constituent of the vege- table food of animals is vegetable caseine. It is chiefly found in the seeds of peas, beans, lentils, and similar leguminous seeds. Like vegetable albumen, it is soluble in water, but differs from it in this, that its solution is not coagulated by heat 92 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. When the sokition is heated or evaporated, a skin forms on its surface, and the addition of an acidi causes a coaguhim, just as in animal milk. These three nitrogenized compounds, vegetable fibrine, albumen, and caseine, are the true nitro- genized constituents of the food of graminivorous animals ; all other nitrogenized compounds occur- ring in plants, are either rejected b3^ animals, as in the case of the characteristic principles of poisonous and medicinal plants, or else they occur in the food in such very small proportion, that they can not possibly contribute to the increase of mass in the animal body. The chemical analysis of these three substances has led to the very interesting result that they con- tain the same organic elements, united in the same proportion by weight ; and, what is still more re- markable, that they are identical in composition with the chief constituents of blood, animal fibrine, and albumen. They all three dissolve in concen- trated muriatic acid with the same deep purple color, and even in their physical characters, ani- mal fibrine and albumen are in no respect differ- ent from vegetable fibrine and albumen. It is especially to be noticed, that by the phrase, iden- tity of composition, we do not here intend mere similarity, but that even in regard to the presence and relative amount of sulphur, phosphorus, and ISOMERISM OF VEGETABLE PRINCIPLES. 93 phosphate of lime, no difference can be observed. How beautifully and admirably simple, with the aid of these discoveries, appears the process of nu- trition in animals, the formation of their organs, in which vitality chiefly resides ! Those vegetable principles, which in animals are used to form blood, contain the chief constituents of blood, fibrine and albumen, ready formed, as far as re- gards their composition. All plants, besides, con- tain a certain quantity of iron, which reappears in the coloring matter of the blood. Vegetable fibrine and animal fibrine, vegetable albumen and animal albumen, hardly differ, even in form ; if these principles be wanting in the food, the nutri- tion of the animal is arrested ; and when they are present, the graminivorous animal obtains in its food the very same principles on the presence of which the nutrition of the carniA'^ora entirely depends. Vegetables produce in their organism the blood of all animals, for the carnivora, in consuming the blood and flesh of the graminivora, consume, strictly speaking, only the vegetable principles which have served for the nutrition of the latter. Vegetable fibrine and albumen take the same form in the stomach of the graminivorous animal as animal fibrine and albumen do in that of the carnivorous animal. From what has been said, it follows that the 94 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. velopment of the animal organism and its growth are dependant on the reception of certain princi- ples identical with the chief constituents of blood. In this sense we may say that the animal organ- ism gives to blood only its form ; that it is incapa- ble of creating blood out of other substances which do not already contain the chief constituents of that fluid. We can not, indeed, maintain, that the animal organism has no power to form other compounds, for we know that it is capable of producing an extensive series of compounds, differing in com- position from the chief constituents of blood ; but these last, which form the starting-point of the series, it can not produce. The animal organism is a higher kind of vege- table, the development of which begins with those substances with the production of which the life of an ordinary vegetable ends. As soon as the latter has borne seed, it dies, or a period of its life comes to a termination. In that endless series of compounds, which begins with carbonic acid, ammonia, and water, the sources of the nutrition of vegetables, and in- cludes the most complex constituents of the animal brain, there is no blank, no interruption. The first substance capable of affording nutriment to animals is the last product of the creative energy of vegetables. RELATION OF VEGETABLE AND ANIMAl 95 The substance of cellular tissue and of mem- branes, of the brain and nerves, these the vegeta- ble can not produce. The seemingly miraculous in the productive agency of vegetables disappears in a great degree, vi^hen we reflect that the production of the consti- tuents of blood can not appear more surprising thsCn the occurrence of the fat of beef and mutton in cocoa beans, of human fat in oliv«-oil, of the principal ingredient of butter in palm oil, and of horse fat and train-oil in certain oily seeds. 96 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY LETTER IX. My dear sir : The facts detailed in my last letter will satisfy you as to the manner in which the increase of mass in an animal, that is its growth, is accomplished ; we have still to consider a most important question, namely, the function perform- ed in the animal system by substances destitute of nitrogen ; such as sugar, starch, gum, pectine, &;c. The most extensive class of animals, the grami- nivora, can not live without these substances ; their food must contain a certain amount of one or more of them, and if these compounds are not supplied, death quickly ensues. This important inquiry extends also to the con- stituents of the food of carnivorous animals in the earliest periods of life ; for this food also contains substances which are not necessary for their support in the adult state. The nutrition of the young of carnivora is obviously accomplished by means similar to those by which the graminivora are nourished ; their development Is dependant on USES OF BUTTER AND MILR. 97 the suppl}' of a fluid, which the body of the moth- er secretes in the shape of milk. Milk contains only one nitrogenised constituent, known under the name of caseine : besides this, its chief ingredients are butter (fat), and sugar of milk. The blood of the young animal, its muscu- lar fibre, cellular tissue, nervous matter, and bones, 'must have derived their origin from the nitrogen- ised constituent of milk — the caseine ; for butter and sugar of milk contain no nitrogen. Now, the analysis of caseine has led to the re- sult, which, after the details I have gi^'^en, can hardly excite your surprise, that this substance also is identical in composition with the chief constituents of blood, fibrine and albumen. Nay more — a comparison of its properties with those of vegetable caseine has shown — that these two substances are identical in all their properties ; insomuch, that certain plants, such as peas, beans, and lentils, are capable of producing the same sub- stance which is formed from the blood of the mother, and employed in yielding the blood of the young animal. The young animal, therefore, receives, in the form of caseine — which is distinguished from fi- brine and albumen by its great solubility, and by not coagulating when heated — the chief constituent of the mother's blood. To convert caseine into 9 98 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. blood no foreign substance is required, and in tiu conversion of the motber's blood into caseine, no elements of the constituents of the blood have been separated. When chemically examined, caseine is found to contain a much larger proportion of the earth of bones than blood does, and that in a very soluble form, capable of reaching every part of the body. Thus, even in the earliest period of its life, the developjnent of the organs, in which vitality resides, is, in the carnivorous animal, dependant on the supply of a substance, identical in organic composition with the chief constituents of its blood. What, then, is the use of the butter and the su- gar of milk ? How does it happen that these sub- stances are indispensable to life 1 Butter and sugar of milk contain no fixed bases, no soda or potash. Sugar of milk has a composition closely allied to that of the other kinds of sugar, of starch, and of gum ; all of them contain carbon and the elements of water, the latter precisely in the proportion to form water. There is added, therefore, by means of these compounds, to the nitrogenized constituents of food, a certain amount of carbon ; or, as in the case of butter, of carbon and hydrogen ; that is, an excess of elements, which car not possibly be employed in the production of blood, because the nitrogenized substances contained in the food al ANIMAL HEAT. 99 ready contain exactly the amount of carbon which is required for the production of fibrine and albu- men. The following considerations will show that hardly a doubt can be entertained, that this excess of carbon alone, or of carbon and hydrogen, is ex- pended in the production of animal heat, and serves to protect the organism from the action of the at- mospheric oxygen, which is required for the pro- duction of fibrine and albumen. In an adult carnivorous animal, which neither gains nor loses weight, perceptibly, from day to day, its nourishment, the waste of organized tissue, and its consumption of oxygen, stand to each other in a well-defined and fixed relation. The carbon of the carbonic acid given off, with that of the urine ; the nitrogen of the urine, and the hydrogen given off as ammonia and water ; these elements, taken together, must be exactly equal in weight to the carbon, nitrogen, and hy- drogen of the metamorphosed tissues, and since these last are exactly replaced by the food, to the carbon, nitrogen, and hydrogen of the food. Were this not the case, the weight of the animal could not possibly remain unchanged. But, in the young of the carnivora, the weight does not remain unchanged ; on the contrary, it in- creases from day to day by an appreciable quantity. 100 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. This fact presupposes, that the assimilative pro- cess in the young animal is more energetic, more intense, than the process of transformation in the existing tissues. If both processes were equally active, the weight of the body could not increase ; and were the waste by transformation greater, the weight of the body would decrease. Now, the circulation in the young animal is not weaker, but, on the contrary, more rapid ; the res- pirations are more frequent ; and, for equal bulks, the consumption of oxygen must be greater rather than smaller in the young than in the adult animal. But, since the metamorphosis of organized parts goes on more slowly, there would ensue a deficiency of those substances, the carbon and hydrogen of which are adapted for combination with oxygen , because, in the carnivora, it is the new compounds, produced by the metamorphosis of organized parts, which nature has destined to furnish the necessa- ry resistance to the action of the oxygen, and to produce animal heat. What is wanting for these purposes an Infinite Wisdom has supplied to the young animal in its natural food. The carbon and hydrogen of butter, and the carbon of the sugar of milk, no part of either of which can yield blood, fibrine, or albumen, are destined for the. support of the respiratory process, at an age when a greater resistance is opposed to METAMORPHOSES OF TISSUES. 101 the metamorphosis of existing organisms ; or, in other words, to the production of compounds, which, in the adult state, are produced in quantity amply sufficient for the purpose of respiration. The young animal receives the constituents of its blood in the caseine of the milk. A metamor- phosis of existing organs goes on, for bile and urine are secreted ; the matter of the metamorphosed parts is given off in the form of urine, of carbonic acid, and of water ; but the butter and sugar of milk also disappear ; they can not be detected in the fseces. The butter and sugar of milk are given out in the form of carbonic acid and water, and their conversion into oxidized products furnishes the clearest proof that far more oxygen is absorbed than is required to convert the carbon and hydro- gen of the metamorphosed tissues into carbonic acid and water. The change and metamorphosis of organized tissues going on in the vital process in the young animal, consequently yield, in a given time, much less carbon and hydrogen in the form adapted for the respiratory process than corresponds to the oxygen taken up in the lungs. The substance of its organized parts would undergo a more rapid consumption, and would necessarily yield to the action of the oxygen, were not the deficiency 9* 102 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. of carbon aiid hydrogen supplied from another source. The continued increase of mass, or growth, and the free and unimpeded development of the organs in the young animal, are dependant on the pres- ence of foreign substances, which, in the nutritive process, have no other function than to protect the newly-formed organs from the action of the oxy- gen. It is the elements of these substances which unite with the oxygen ; the organs themselves could not do so without being consumed ; that is, growth, or increase of mass in the body — the con- sumption of oxygen remaining the same — would be utterly impossible. The preceding considerations leave no doubt as to the purpose for which Nature has added to the food of the young of carnivorous mammalia sub- stances devoid of nitrogen, which their organism can not employ for nutrition, strictly so called, that is, for the production of blood ; substances which may be entirely dispensed with in their nourish- ment in the adult state. In the young of carnivo- rous birds, the want of all motion is an obvious cause of diminished waste in the organized parts ; hence, milk is not provided for them. The nutritive process in the carnivora thus pre- sents itself under two distinct forms ; one of which we again meet with in the ^raminivora. FOOD OF THK HORSE. 103 In graminivorous animals, we observe that du- ring tlieir whole life, their existence depends on a supply of substances having a composition iden- tical with that of sugar of milk, or closely resem- bling it. Everything that they consume as food contains a certain quantity of starch, gum, or su- gar, mixed with other matters. The function performed in the vital process of the graminivora by these substances is indicated in a very clear and convincing manner, when we take into consideration the very small relative amount of the carbon which these animals con- sume in the nitrogenized constituents of their food, which bears no proportion whatever to the oxygen absorbed through the skin and lungs. A horse, for example, can be kept in perfectly good condition, if he obtain as food 15 lbs. of hay and 4^ lbs. of oats, daily. If we now calculate the whole amount of nitrogen in these matters, as ascertained by analysis (1.5 per cent, in the hay, 2.2 per cent, in the oats), in the form of blood, that is, as fibrine and albumen, with the due proportion of water in blood (80 per cent.), the horse receives daily no more than 4 J oz. of nitrogen, correspcnd- ing to about 8 lbs. of blood. But along with this nitrogen, that is, combined with it in the form of fibrine or albumen, the animal receives only about 14^ oz. of carbon. 104 LETTERS 0\ CHEMISTRY. Without going further into the calculation, it will readily be admitted, that the volume of air in- spired and expired by ahorse, the quantity of oxy- gen consumed, and, as a necessary consequence, the amount of carbonic acid given out by the ani- mal, is much greater than in the respiratory process in man. But an adult man consumes daily about 14 oz. of carbon, and the determination of Bous- singault, according to which a horse expires 79 oz. daily, can not be very far from the truth. In the nitrogenized constituents of his food, therefore, the horse receives rather less than the fifth part of the carbon which his organism re- quires for the support of the respiratory process ; and we see that the wisdom of the Creator has •added to his food the |ths which are wanting, in various forms as, starch, sugar, &c., with which the animal must be supplied, or his organism will be destroyed by the action of the oxygen. It is obvious, that, in the system of the grami- nivora, whose food contains so small a portion, relatively, of the constituents of blood, the process of metamorphosis in existing tissues, and conse- quently their restoration or reproduction, must go on far less rapidly than in the carnivora. Were this not the case, a vegetation a thousand times more luxuriant than the actual one would not suf- fice for their nourishment. Sugar, gum, and starch, FOOD OF CARNIVORA. 106 would no longer be necessary to support life in these animals, because, in that case, the products of the waste, or metamorphosis of the organized tissues, would contain enough of carbon to support the respiratory process. 106 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. LETTER X. My dear sir : Let me now apply the princi- ples announced in the preceding letters to the circumstances of our own species. Man, when confined to animal food, requires for his support and nourishment extensive sources of food, even more widely extended than the lion and tiger, be- cause, when he has the opportunity, he kills with- out eating. A nation of hunters, on a limited space, is Ut- terly incapable of increasing its numbers beyond a certain point, which is soon attained. The carbon necessary for respiration must be obtained from the animals, of which only a limited number can live on the space supposed. These animals col- lect from plants the constituents of their organs and of their blood, and yield them, in turn, to the savages who live by the chase alone. They, again, receive this food unaccompanied by those com- pounds, destitute of nitrogen, which, during the life of the animals, served to support the respira- tory process. In such men, confined to an animal APPLICATION TO MAN 107 diet, it is the carbon of the flesh and of the blood which must take the place of starch and sugar. But 15 lbs. of flesh contain no more carbon than 4 lbs. of starch, and while the savage with one animal and an equal weight of starch could maintain life and health for a certain number of days, he would be compelled, if confined to flesh alone, in order to procure the carbon necessary for respiration, during the same time, to consume five such animals. It is easy to see, from these considerations, how close the connexion is between agriculture and the multiplication of the human species. The cultivation of our crops has ultimately no other object than the production of a maximum of those substances which are adapted for assimilation and respiration, in the smallest possible space. Grain and other nutritious vegetables yield us, not only in starch, sugar, and gum, ihe carbon which pro- tects our organs from the action of oxygen, and produces in the organism the heat which is essen- tial to life, but also in the form of vegetable fibrine, albumen, and caseine, our blood, from which the other parts of our body are developed. Man, when confined to animal food, respires, like the carnivora, at the expense of the matters pro- duced by the metamorphosis of organized tissues ; and, just as the lion, tiger, hysena, in the cages of 108 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. a menagerie, are compelled to accelerate the waste of the organized tissues by incessant motion, in order to furnish the matter necessary for respira- tion, so the savage, for the very same object, is forced to make the most laborious exertions, and go through a vast amount of muscular exercise. He is compelled to consume force merely in order to supply matter for respiration. Cultivation is the economy of force. Science teaches us the simplest means of obtaining the greatest effect with the smallest expenditure of power, and with given means to produce a maxi- mum of force. The unprofitable exertion of power, the waste of force in agriculture, in other branches of industry, in science, or in social economy, is characteristic of the savage state, or of the want of knowledge. In accordance with what I have already stated, you will perceive that the substances of which the food of man is composed may be divided into two classes ; into nitrogenized and non-nitrogenized. The former are capable of conversion into blood ; the latter are incapable of this transformation. Out of those substances which are adapted to the formation of blood are formed all the organized tissues. The other class of substances, in the normal state of health, serve to support the process of respiration. The former may be called the DIVISION OF ALIMENTG. 109 plastic elements of nutrition ; the latte/. iUvf^nli of respiration. Among the former we reckon — Vegetable fibrine. Vegetable albumen. Vegetable caseine. Animal flesh. Animal blood. Among the elements of respiration in our food are — Fat. Pectme- Starch. Bassorine. Gum. Wine. Cane Sugar. Beer. Grape Sugar. Spirits. Sugar of milk. The most recent and exact researches have established as a universal fact, to which nothing yet known is opposed, that the nitrogenized con- stituents of vegetable food have a composition iden- tical with that of the constituents of the blood. No nitrogenized compound, the composition of which differs from that of fibrine, albumen, and caseine, is capable of supporting the vital process in animals. The animal organism unquestionably possesses the power of forming, from the constituents of its blood, the substance of its membranes and cellular tissue, of the nerves and brain, and of the organic 10 110 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. part of cartilages and bones. But the blood must be supplied to it ready formed in everything but its form — that is, in its chemical composition. If this be not done, a period is rapidly put to the for- mation of blood, and consequently to life. This consideration enables us easily to explain how it happens that the tissues yielding gelatine or chondrine, as, for example, the gelatine of skin or of bones, are not adaj.ied for the support of the vital process ; for their composition is different from that of fibrine or albumen. It is obvious that this means nothing more than that those parts of tho animal organism which form the blood do not possess the power of effecting a transformation in the arrangement of the elements of gelatine, or of those tissues which contain it. The gelatinous tis- sues, the gelatine of the bones, the membranes, the cells, and the skin, suffer in the animal body, un- der the influence of oxygen and moisture, a pro- gressive alteration ; a part of these tissues is sepa- rated, and must be restored from the blood ; but this alteration and restoration is obviously confined within very narrow limits. While, in the body of a starving or sick indi- vidual, the fat disappears, and the muscular tissue takes once more the form of blood, we find that the tendons and membranes retain their natural condition ; the limbs of the dead body retain their USES OF GELATINE. Ill connexions, which depend on the gelatinous tis- sues. On the other hand, we see that the gelatine of bones devoured by a dog entirely disappears, while only the bone earth is found in his excrements. The same is true of man, when fed on food rich in gelatine, as, for example, strong soup. The gelatine is not to be found either in the urine or in the faeces, and consequently must have undergone a change, and must have served some purpose in the animal economy. It is clear that the gelatine must be expelled from the body in a form, different from that in which it was introduced as food. When we consider the transformation of the albumen of the blood into a part of an organ com- posed of fibrine, the identity in composition of the two substances rendeis the change easily conceiv- able. Indeed we find the change of a dissolved substance into an insoluble organ of vitality, chem- ically speaking, natural and easily explained, on account of this very identity of composition. Hence the opinion is not unworthy of a closer investiga- tion, that gelatine, when taken in the dissolved state, is again converted, in the body, into cellular tissue, membrane, and cartilage ; that it may serve for the reproduction of such parts of these tissues as have been wasted, and for their growth. And when the powers of nutrition in the whole 112 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY body are affected by a change of the health, then, even should the power of forming blood remain the same, the organic force by which the constituents of the blood are transformed into cellular tissue and membranes must necessarily be enfeebled by sickness. In the sick man, the intensity of the vital force, its power to produce metamorphoses, must be diminished as well in the stomach as in all other parts of the body. In this condition, the uniform experience of practical physicians shows that gelatinous matters in a dissolved state exer- cise a most decided influence on the state of the health. Given in a form adapted for assimilation, they serve to husband the vital force, just as may be done in the case of the stomach, by due prepa- ration of the food in general. Brittleness in the bones of graminivorous ani- mals is clearly owing to a weakness in those parts of the organism whose function it is to convert the constituents of the blood into cellular tissue and membrane ; and if we can trust to the reports of physicians who have resided in the East, the Turkish women, in their diet of rice, and in the frequent use of enemata of strong soup, have uni- ted the conditions necessary for the formation both of cellular tissue and of fat. ANIMAL AND VEGETABLE KINGDOM. *Ji LETTER XI. My dear sir : In the immense, yet limited ex- 'panse of the ocean, the animal and vegetable king- doms are mutually dependant upon, and successive to, each other. The animals obtain their constit- uent elements from the plants, and restore them o the water in their original form, when they igain serve as nourishment to a new generation of plants. The oxygen which marine animals withdraw iu their respiration from the air, dissolved in sea-wa- ter, is returned to the water by the vital processes of sea plants ; that air is richer in oxygen than at- mospheric air, containing 32 to 33 per cent., while the latter contains only 21 per cent. Oxygen also combines with the products of the putrefaction of dead animal bodies, changes their carbon into car- bonic acid, their hydrogen into water, and their nitrogen assumes again the form of ammonia. Thus we observe in the ocean a circulation takes place without the addition or subtraction of any element, unlimited in duration, although limited in 114 LETTERS ON CHEMISTS T. extent, inasmuch as in a confined space the nour- ishment of plants exists in a limited quantity. We well know that marine plants can not derive a sup})ly of humus for their nourishment through their roots. Look at the great sea-tang, the Fiicus Gigantius : this plant, according to Cook, reaches a height of 360 feet, and a single specimen, with its immense ramifications, nourishes thousands of marine animals ; yet its root is a small body, no larger than the fist. What nourishment can this draw from a naked rock, upon the surface of which there is no perceptible change ? It is quite obvious that these plants require only a hold — a fastening to prevent a change of place — as a counterpoise to their specific gravity, which is less than that of the medium in which they float. That medium provides the necessary nourishment, and presents it to the surface of every part of the plant. Sea- water contains not only carbonic acid and ammo- nia, but the alkaline and earthy phosphates and carbonates required by these plants for their growth, and which we always find as constant constituents of their ashes. All experience demonstrates that the conditions of. the existence of marine plants are the same which are essential to terrestial plants. But the latter do not live like sea plants, in a medium which contains all their elements, and surrounds with AGRICULTURE. 115 appropriate nourishment every part of their organs ; on the contrary, they require two media, of which one, namely the soil, contains those essential ele- ments which are absent from the medium sur- rounding them, that is, the atmosphere. Is it possible that we could ever be in doubt respecting the office which the soil and its compo- nent parts subserve in the existence and growth of ve'getables ? — that there should have been a time when the mineral elements of plants were not regarded as absolutely essential to their vital- ity ? Has not the same circulation been observ- ed on the surface of the earth, which we have just contemplated in the ocean, — the same inces- sant change, disturbance and restitution of equili- brium ? Experience in agriculture shows that the pro- duction of vegetables on a given surface increases with the supply of certain matters, originally parts of the soil which had been taken up from it by plants- -the excrements of man and animals. These are nothing more tha-n matters derived from vege- table food, which in the vital processes of animals, or after their death, assume again the form under which they originally existed, as parts of the soil Now, we know that the atmosphere contains none of these substances, and therefore can replace none ; a.iid we know that their removal from a soil de- 116 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. stroys its fertility, which may be restored and increased by a new supply. Is it possible, after so many decisive investiga- tions into the origin of the elements of animals and vegetables, the use of the alkalies, of lime and the phosphates, any doubt can exist as to the principles upon which a rational agriculture depends ? Can the art of agriculture be based upon any thing but the restitution of a disturbed equilibrium ? Can it be imagined that any country, however rich and fertile, with a flourishing commerce, which for cen- turies exports its produce in the shape of grain and cattle, will maintain its fertility, if the same com- merce does not restore, in some form of manure, those elements which have been removed from the soil, and which can not be replaced by the atmo- sphere ? Must not the same fate await every such country which has actually befallen the once prolific soil of Virginia, now in many parts no longer able to grow its former staple productions — wheat and tobacco ? In the large towns of England the produce both of English and foreign agriculture is largely con- sumed ; elements of the soil indispensable to plants do not return to the fields, — contrivances resulting from the manners and customs of English people, and peculiar to them, render it difficult, perhaps, impossible to collect the enormous quantity of (he AGRICULTURE. 117 phosphates, which are daily, as solid and liquid excrements, carried into the rivers. These phos- phates, although present in the soil in the smallest quantity, are its most important mineral constitu- ents. It was observed that many English fields exhausted in that manner, immediately doubled their produce, as if by a miracle, when dressed with bone earth imported from the continent. But if the export of bones from Germany is continued to the extent it has hitherto reached, our soil must be gradually exhausted, and the extent of our loss may be estimated, by considering that one pound of bones contains as much phosphoric acid as a hundred-weight of grain. The imperfect knowledge of nature, and the properties and relations of matter, possessed by the alchemists, gave rise, in their time, to an opinion that metals as well as plants could be produced from a seed. The regular forms and ramifications seen in crystals, they imagined to be the leaves am! branches of metal plants ; and as they saw the seed of plants grow, producing root, stem and leaves, and again blossoms, fruits and seeds, apparently without receiving any supply of appropriate mate- ris-l, they deemed it worthy of zealous inquiry to discover the seed of gold, and the earth necessary for its development. If the metal seeds were once obtained, might they not entertain hopes of their 118 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. growth ^ Such ideas could only be entertained when nothing was known of the atmosphere, and its participation with the earth, in administering to the vital processes of plants and animals. Mod- ern chemistry indeed produces the elements of water, and combining them, forms water anew ; but it does not create those elements — it derives them from water ; the new-formed artificial water has been water before. Many of our farmers are like the alchemists of old, — they are searching for the miraculous seed — • the means, which, without any further supply of nourishment to a soil scarcely rich enough to be sprinkled with indigenous plants, shall produce crops of grain a hundred-fold. The experience of centuries, nay, of thousands of years, is insufficient to guard men against these fallacies ; our only security from these and similar absurdities must be derived from a correct knowl- edge of scientific principles. In the first period of natural philosophy organic life was supposed to be derived from water only ; afterward, it was admitted that certain elements derived from the air must be superadded to the water ; but we now know that other elements must be supplied by the earth, if plants are to thrive and multiply. The amount of materials contained in the atmo- AGRICULTURE. 119 Sphere, suited to the iiourishaient of plants, is limited ; but it must be abundantly sufficient to cover the whole surface of the earth with a rich vegetation. Under the tropics, and in those parts of our globe where the most genial conditions of fertility exist, — a suitable soil, a moist atmosphere, and a high temperature, — vegetation is scarcely limited by space ; and, where the soil is wanting, it is gradually supplied by the decaying leaves, bark and branches of plants. It is obvious there is no deficiency of atmospheric nourishment for plants in those regions, nor are these wanting in our own cultivated fields : all which plants require for their development is conveyed to them by the incessant motions of the atmosphere. The air be- tween the tropics contains no more than that of the arctic zones ; and yet how different is the amount of produce of an equal surface of land in the two situations ! This is easily explicable. All the plants of tropi- cal climates, the oil and wax palms, the sugar cane, &c., contain only a small quantity of the elements of the blood necessary to the nutrition of anirnds, as compared with our culti-^ated plants. The tubers of the potato in Chili, its native country, where the plant resembles a shrub if collected from an acre of land, would scarcely suffice to maintain an Irish family for a single day (Darwin). The result of 120 LKTTERS ON CHEMISTRY. cultivation in those plants which serve as food is to produce in them those constituents of the blood. In the absence of the elements essential to these in the soil, starch, sugar, and woody fibre, are perhaps formed ; but no vegetable fibrine, albumen, or caseine. If we intend to produce on a given surface of soil more of these latter matters than the plants can obtain from the atmosphere or receive from the soil of the same surface in its uncultivated and normal state, we must create an artificial atmo- sphere, and add the needed elements to the soil. The nourishment which must be supplied in a given time to different plants, in order to admit a free and unimpeded growth, is very unequal. On pure sand, on calcareous soil, on naked rocks, only a few genera of plants prosper, and these are, for the most part, perennial plants. They require, for their slow growth, only such minute quantities of mineral substances as the soil can furnish, which may be totally barren for other species. Annual, and especially summer plants, grow and attain their perfection in a comparatively short time , they therefore do not prosper on a soil which is poor in those mineral substances necessary to their development. To attain a maximum in height in the short period of their existence the nourish- ment contained in the atmosphere is not sufficient. If the end of cultivation is to be obtained we must AGRICULTURE. 121 create in the soil an artificial atmosphere of car- bonic acid and ammonia ; and this surplus of nourishment, which the leaves can not appropriate from the air, must be taken up by the correspond- ing organs, that is, the roots, from the soil. But ihe ammonia, together with the carbonic acid, are alone insufficient to become part of a plant destined to the nourishment of animals. In the absence of the alkalies, the phosphates and other earthy salts, no vegetable fibrine, no vegetable caseine, can be formed. The phosphoric acid of the phos- phate of lime, indispensable to the ceralia and other vegetables in the formation of their seeds, is separated as an excrement, in great quantities, by the rind and barks of ligneous plants. How different are the evergreen plants, the ole aginous plants, the mosses, the ferns, and the pines, from our annual grasses, the ceralia and leguminous vegetables ! The former, at ever}'' time of the day during winter and summer, obtain carbon through their leaves by absorbing carbonic acid which is not furnished by the barren soil on which they grow ; water is also absorbed and re- tained by their coriaceous or fleshy leaves with great force. They lose very little by evaporation, compared with other plants. On the other hand, how very small is the quantity of mineral sub- stances which they withdraw from the soil during 11 J22 LETTERS ON CHKMISTRY. their almost constant growth in one year, in com- parison with the quantity which one crop of wheat of an equal weight receives in three months ! It is by means of moisture that plants receive the necessary alkalies and salts from the soil. In dry summers a phenomenon is observed, which, when the importance of mineral elements to the life of a plant was unknown, could not be explained. The leaves of plants first developed and perfected, and therefore nearer the surface of the soil, shrivel up and become yellow, lose their vitality, and fall off while the plant is in an active state of growth, without any visible cause. This phenomenon is not seen in moist years, nor in evergreen plants, and but rarely in plants which have long and deep roots, nor is it seen in perennials in autumn and winter. The cause of this premature decay is now ob- vious. The perfectly-developed leaves absorb continually carbonic acid and ammonia from the atmosphere, which are converted into elements of new leaves, buds, and shoots ; but this metamor- phosis can not be effected without the aid of the alkalies, and other mineral substances. If the sol} is moist, the latter are continually supplied to an adequate amount, and the plant retains its lively green color; but if this supply ceases from a want of moisture to dissolve the mineral elements, a AGRICULTURE. 123 separation takes place in the plant itself. The mineral constituents of the juice are withdrawn from the leaves already formed, and are used for the formation of the young shoots ; and 'ds soon as the seeds are developed, the vitality of the leaves completely ceases. These withered leaves con- tain only minute traces of soluble salts, while the buds and shoots are very rich in them, On the other hand, it has been observed, that where a soil is too highly impregnated with solu- ble saline materials, these are separated upon the surface of the leaves. This happens to culinary vegetables especially, whose leaves become cov- ered with a white crust. In consequence of these exudations the plant sickens, its organic activity decreases, its growth is disturbed ; and if this state continues long, the plant dies. This is most fre- quently seen in foliaceous plants, the large sur- faces of which evaporate considerable quantities of water. Carrots, pumpkins, peas, &c., are fre- quently thus diseased, when, after dry weather, the plant being near its full growth, the soil is moistened by short showers, followed again by dry weather. The rapid evaporation carries off the water absorbed by the root, and this leaves the salts in the plant in a far greater quantity than it can assimilate. These salts effloresce upon the surface of the leaves, and if they are herbaceous 124 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. and juicy, produce an effect upon them as if they had been watered with a solution containing a greater quantity of salts than their organism can bear. Of two plants of the same species, this disease befalls that which is nearest its perfection ; if ono should have been planted later, or be more back- ward in its. development, the same external cause which destroys the one will contribute to the 2Towth of the other. CHEMISTRY OF AGRICULTURE. 125 LETTER XII. My dear sir : Having now occupied several letters with the attempt to unravel, by means of chemistry, some of the most curious functions of the animal body, and, as I hope, made clear to you the distinctions between the two kinds of con- stituent elements in food, and the purposes they severally subserve in sustaining life, let me now direct your attention to a scarcely less interesting and equally important subject — the means of ob- taining from a given surface of the earth the largest amount of produce adapted to the food of man and animals. Agriculture is both a science and an art. The knowledge of all the conditions of the life of vege- tables, the origin of their elements, and the sources of their nourishment, forms its scientific basis. From this knowledge we derive certain rules for the exercise of the art, the principles upon which the m.echanical operations of farming de- pend, the usefulness or necessity of these for pre- 11* 126 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. paring the soil to support the growth of plants^, and for removing every obnoxious influence. No experience, drawn from the exercise of the art, can be opposed to true scientific principles, be- cause the latter should include all the results of practical operations, and are in some instances solely derived therefrom. Theory must corre- spond with experience, because it is nothing more than the reduction of a series of phenomena to their last causes. A field in which we cultivate the same plant for several successive years becomes barren for that plant in a period varying with the nature of the soil : in one field it will be in three, in anoth- er in seven, in a third in twenty, in a fourth in a hundred years. One field bears wheat, and no peas ; another beans and turnips, but no tobacco ; a third gives a plentiful crop of turnips, but will not bear clover. What is the reason that a field loses its fertility for one plant, the same which at first flourished there ? What is the reason one kind of plant succeeds in a field where another fails ? These questions belong to Science. What means are necessary to preserve to a field its fertility for one and the same plant? — what to render one field fertile for two, for three, for all plants ? CHEMISTRY OF AGRICULTURE. 127 These last questions arc jjiit ly Art, but they can not he ansvered by Art. If a farmer, without the guidance of just scien- tific principles, is trying experiments to render a field fertile for a plant which it otherwise will not bear, his prospect of success is very small. Thou- sands of farmers try such experiments in various directions, the result of which is a mass of prac- tical experience forming a method of cultivation which accomplishes the desired end for certain places ; but the same method frequently does not succeed — it indeed ceases to be applicable to a second or third place in the immediate neighbor- hood. How large a capital, and how much power, are Avasted in these experiments ! Very different, and far more secure, is the path indicated by SCIENCE ; it exposes us to no danger of failing, but, on the contrary, it furnishes us with every guarantee of success. If the cause of failure — of barrenness in the soil for one or two plants — has been discovered, means to remedy it may readily be found. The most exact observations prove that the method of cultivation must vary with the geognos- tical condition of the subsoil. In basalt, gray- wacke, porphyry, sandstone, limestone, &c., are certain elements indispensable to the growth of plants, and the presence of which renders them 128 LETTERS ON CIIEMFSTRY. fertile. This fully explains the diflerence in the necessary methods of culture for different places ; since it is obvious that the essential elements of the soil must vary vvilli the varieties of composi- tion of the rocks, from the disintegration of which they originated. Wheat, clover, turnips, for example,' each re- quire certain elements from the soil ; they will not flourish wdiere the appropriate elements are absent. Science teaches us what elements are essential to every species of plants by an analysis of their ashes. If therefore a soil is found wanting in any of those elements, we discover at once the cause of its barrenness, and its removal may now be readily accomplished. The empiric attributes all his success to the me- chanical operations of agriculture ; he experiences and recognises their value, without inquiring what are the causes of their utility, their mode of ac- tion : and yet this scientific knowledge is of the highest importance for regulating the application of power and the expenditure of capital — for in- suring its economical expenditure and the preA en- tion of waste. Can it be imagined that the mere passing of the ploughshare or the harrow through the soil — the mere contact of the iron — can impart fertility miraculously ? Nobody, perhaps, serious- ly entertains such an opinion. Nevertheless, the CHEMISTRY OF AGRICULTURE. 129 modus operandi of these mechanical operations is by no means generally imderstood. The fact is quite certain, that careful ploughing exerts the most favorable influence : the surface is thus me- chanically divided, changed, increased, and reno- vated ; but the ploughing is only auxiliary to the end sought. In the eflects of time, in what in Agriculture are technically c^Weii fallows — the repose of the fields — we recognise by science certain chemical ac- tions, which are continually exercised by the ele- ments of the atmosphere upon the whole surface of our globe. By the action of its oxygen and its carbonic acid, aided -by water, rain, changes of temperature, &c., certain elementary constituents of rocks, or of their ruins, which form the soil ca- pable of cultivation, are rendered soluble in water, and consequently become separable from all their insoluble parts. These chemical actions, poetically denominated the " the tooth of time," destroy all the works of man, and gradually reduce the hardest rocks to the condition of dust. By their influence the ne- cessary elements of the soil become fitted for as- similation by plants ; and it is precisely the end which is obtained by the mechanical operations of farming. They accelerate the decomposition of the soil, in order to provide a new generation 130 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. of plants with the necessary elements in a condi- tion favorable to their assimilation. It is obvious that the rapidity of the decompositicm of a solid body must increase with the extension of its sur- face ; the more points of contact we offer in a given time to the external chemical agent, the more rapid will be its action, The chemist, in order to prepare a mineral for analysis, to decompose it, or to increase the solu- bility of its elements, proceeds in the same way as the farmer deals with his fields — he spares no labor in order to reduce it to the finest powder ; he separates the impalpable from the coarser parts by washing, and repeats his mechanical bruising and trituration, being assured his whole process will fail if he is inattentive to this essential and preliminary part of it. The influence which the increase of surface exercises upon the disintegration of rocks, and upon the chemical action of air and moisture, is strikingly illustrated upon a large scale in the op- erations pursued in the gold mines of Yaquil, in Chili. These are described in a very interesting manner by Darwin. The rock containing the gold ore is pounded by mills into the finest powder ; this is subjected to washing, which separates the lighter particles from the metallic ; the gold sinks to the bottom, while a stream of water carries WASHING FOR GOLD. 13] away the lighter earthy parts into ponds, where it subsides to the bottom as mud. When this deposite has gradually filled up the pond, this mud is taken out and piled in heaps, and left exposed to the action of the atmosphere and moisture. The washing completely removes all the soluble part of the disintegrated rock ; the insoluble part, moreover, can not undergo any further change while it is covered with water, and so excluded from the influence of the atmosphere at the bottom of the pond. But being exposed at once to the air and moisture, a powerful chemical action takes place in the whole mass, which becomes indicated by an efliorescence of salts covering the whole surface of the heaps in considerable quantity. After being exposed for two or three years, the mud is again subjected to the same process of washing, and a considerable quantity of gold is obtained,' this having been separated by the chemical pro- cess of decomposition in the mass. The exposure and washing of the same mud is repeated six or seven times, and at every washing it furnishes a new quantity of gold, although its amount dimin- ishe's every time. Precisely similar is the chemical action which takes place in the soil of our fields ; and we ac- celerate and increase it by the mechanical opera- tions of agriculture. By these we sever and ex- 132 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. tend the surface, and endeavor to make every atom of the soil accessible to the action of the carbonic acid and oxygen of the atmosphere. We thus produce a stock of soluble mineral substances, which serve as nourishment to a new generation of plants, and which are indispensable to their growth and prosperity. MINERALS IN AGRICULTURE. 133 LETTER XIII. My dear sir : Having in my last letter spoken of the general principles upon which the science and art of agriculture must be based, let me now- direct your attention to some of those particulars which will more forcibly exhibit the connexion between chemistry and agriculture, and demon- strate the impossibility of perfecting the important art of rearing food for man and animals without a profound knowledge of our science. All plants cultivated as food require for their healthy sustenance the alkalies and alkaline earths, each in a certain proportion ; and in addition to these, the ceralia do not succeed in a soil destitute of silica in a soluble condition. The combinations of this substance found as natural productions, namely, the silicates differ greatly in the degree of facility with which they undergo decomposition, in consequence of the unequal resistance opposed by their integral parts to the dissolving power of the atmospheric agencies. Thus the granite of 12 134 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. Corsica degenerates into a powder in a time which scarcely suffices to deprive the polished granite of Heidelberg of its lustre. Some soils abound in silicates so readily de- composable, that in every one or two years, as much silicate of potash becomes soluble and fitted for assimilation as is required by the leaves and straw of a crop of wheat. In Hungary, extensive districts are not uncommon where wheat and to- bacco have been grown alternately upon the same soil for centuries, the land never receiving back any of those mineral elements which were with- drawn in the grain and straw. On the other hand, there are fields in which the necessary amount of soluble silicate of potash for a single crop of wheat is not separated from the insoluble masses in the soil in less than two, three, or even more years. The ierm fallow, in Agriculture, designates that period in which the soil, left to the influence of the atmosphere, becomes enriched with those so- luble mnieral constituents. Fallow, however, does not generally imply an entire cessation of cultiva- tion, but only an interval in the growth of the ceralia. That store of silicates and alkalies which is the principal condition of their success is ob- tained, if potatoes or turnips are grown upon the same fields in the intermediate periods, since these USES OF LIME. 135 crops do not abstract a particle of silica, and there- fore leave the f;eld equally fertile for the following crop of wheat. The preceding remarks will render it obvious to you, that the mechanical working of the soil is the simplest and cheapest method of rendering the elements of nutrition contained in it accessible to plants. But it may be asked, Are there not other means of decomposing the soil besides its mechanical subdivision 1 — are there not substances, which by their chemical operation shall equally well or bet- ter render its constituents suitable for enterinsf intr vegetable organisms ? Yes : we certainly possess such substances, and one of them, namely, quick- lime, has been employed for the last century past in England for this purpose ; and it would be dif- ficult to find a substance better adapted to this ser- vice, as it is simple, and in almost all localities cheap and easily accessible. In order to obtain correct views respecting the effect of quick-lime upon the soil, let me remind you of the first process employed by the chemist when ho is desirous of analysing a mineral, and for this purpose wishes to bring its elements into a soluble state. Let the mineral to be examined be, for in- stance, feldspar ; this substance, taken alone, even when reduced to the finest powder, requires 136 . LETTERS Oi\ CHEMISTRY. * for its solulion to be treated with an acid for weeks or months ; but if we first mix it \Yith quicklime, and expose the mixture to a moderately strong heat, the lime enters into chemical combination with certain elements of the feldspar, and its alkali (potass) is set free. And now the acid, even without heat, dissolves not only the lime, but also so much of the silica of the feldspar as to form a transparent jelly. The same effect which the lime in this process, with the acid of heat, exerts upon the feldspar, it produces when it is mixed with the alkaline argillaceous sili- cates, and they are for a long time kept together in a moist state. Common potters' clay, or pipe-clay, diffused through water, and added to milk of lime, thickens immediately upon mixing; and if the mixture is kept for some months, and then treated with acid, the clay becomes gelatinous, which it would not have done without the admixture with the lime. The lime, in combining with the elements of the clay liquefies it ; and, what is more remarkable, lib- erates the greater part of its alkalies. These inte- resting facts were first observed by Fuchs, at Mu- nich : they have not only led to a more intimate knowledge of the nature and properties of the hydraulic cements, but what is far more important, they explain the effects of caustic lime upon the t/SE OF LIME. 137 8oil, and guide the agriculturist in the application of an invaluable means of opening it, and setting free its alkalies — substances so important, nay, so indispensable to his crops. In the month of October the fields of Yorkshire and Oxfordshire look as if they were covered with snow. Whole square miles are seen whitened over vidth quicklime, which, during. the moist winter months, exercises its beneficial influence upon the stiff, clayey soil, of those counties. According to the humus theory, quicklime ought to exert the most noxious infl-uence upon the soil, because all organic matters contained in it are destroyed by it, and rendered incapable of yielding their humus to a new vegetation. The facts are indeed directly contrary to this now abandoned theory : the fertility of the soil is in- creased by the lime. The ceralia require the alkalies and alkaline silicates, which the action of the lime renders fit for assimilation by the plants. If, in addi- tion to these, there is any decaying organic mat- ter present in the soil supplying carbonic acid, it may facilitate their development ; but it is not essential to their growth. If we furnish the soil with ammonia, and the phosphates, which are iu' dispensable to the ceralia, with the alkaline sili- cates, we have all the conditions necessary to en- 12* 138 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. sure an abundant harvest. The atmosphere is an inexhaustible store of carbonic acid. A no less favorable influence than that of lime is exercised upon the soil of peaty land by the mere act of burning it : this greatly enhances its fertility. We have not long been acquainted with the remarkable change which the properties of clay undergo by burning. The observation was first made in the process of analysing the clay silicates. Many of ilieso, in their natural state, are not acted on by acids, but they become perfectly soluble if heated to redness before the application of the acid. This property belongs to potters' clay, pipe-clay, loam, and many different modifications of clay in soils. In their natural state they may be boiled in concentrated sulphuric acid, without sensible change ; but if freely burned, as is done with the pipe-clay in many alum manufactories, they dis- solve in the acid with the greatest facility, the contained silica being separated like a jelly in a soluble state. Potters' clay belongs to the most steril kinds of soil, and yet it contains within itself all the constituent elements essential to a most luxurious growth of plants ; but their mere presence is insufficient to secure this end. The soil must be accessible to the atmosphere, to its oxygen, to its carbonic acid ; — these must pene- trate it, in order to secure the conditions necessary INFLUENCF, OF LIME. 13S to a happy and vigorous development of the roots The elements present must be brought into that peculiar state of combination which will enable them to enter into plants. Plastic clay is wanting in these properties ; but they are imparted to it by a feeble calcination. At Hardwicke Court, near Gloucester, I have seen a garden (Mr. Baker's) consisting of a stiff clay, which was perfectly steril, become by mere burning extremely fertile. The operation was extended to a depth of three feet. This was an expensive process, certainly ; but it was ef- fectual. The great difference in the properties of burnt and unburnt clay is illustrated by what is seen in brick houses, built in moist situations. In the towns of Flanders, for instance, where most build- ings are of brick, efflorescences of salts cover the surfaces of the walls, like a white nap, within a few days after they are erected. If this saline incrustation is washed away by the rain, it soon re-appears ; and this is even observed on walls which, like the gateway of Lisle, have been erect- ed for centuries. These saline incrustations con- sist of carbonates and sulphates, with alkaline bases ; and it is well known these act an impor- tant part in vegetation. The influence of lime in their production is manifested by their appearing 140 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY, first at the place where the mortar and brick come into contact. It will now be obvious to you, that in a mixture of clay with lim'fe, all the conditions exist for the solution of the silicated clay, and the solubility of the alkaline silicates. The lime gradually dissolv- ing in water charged with carbonic acid, acts like milk of lime upon the clay. This explains also the favorable influence which marl (by which term all those varieties of clay rich in lime are designated) exerts upon most kinds of soil. There are marly soils which surpass all others in fertility for all kinds of plants ; but I believe marl in- a burnt stale must be far more effective, as well as other materials possessing a similar composition ; as, for instance, those species of limestone which are adapted to the preparation of hydraulic ce- ments — for these carry to the soil not only the alkaline bases useful to plants, bui also silica in a stale capable of assimilation. The ashes of coals and lignite are also excel- lent means of ameliorating the soil, and they are used in many places for this purpose. The most suitable may be readily known by their property of forming a gelatinous mass when treated with acids, or by becoming, when mixed with cream of lime, like hydraulic iime — solid and hard as stone. OPERATIONS OF AGRICULTURE. 14! '■ have now, I trust, explained to your satisfac- ti, A^ that the mechanical operations of agriculture — ihe application of lime and chalk to lands, and the burning of clay — depend upon one and the sai.^e scientific principle : they are means of ac- celerating the decomposition of the alkaline clay silicates, in order to provide plants, at the begin- nin/^ of a new vegetation, with certain inorganic matters indispensable for their nutrition. 142 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. LETTER XiV. My dear sir : I treated, in my last letter, of the means of improving the condition of the soil for agricultural purposes by mechanical operations and mineral agents. I have now to speak of the uses and effects of animal exuviae, and vegetable matters or manures — properly so called. In order to understand the nature of these, and the peculiarity of their influence upon our fields, it is highly important to keep in mind the source whence they are derived. It is generally known, that if we deprive an animal of food, the v/eight of its body diminishes during every moment of its existence. If this ab- stinence is continued for some time, the diminution becomes apparent to the eye ; all the fat of the body disappears, the muscles decrease in firmness and bulk, and, if the animal is allowed to die starved, scarcely anything but skin, tendon, and bones, remain. This emaciation which occurs in a body otherwise healthy, demonstrates to us, that during ORIGIN OF ANIMAL MANURES. 143 the life of an animal every part of its living sub- stance is undergoing a perpetual change ; all its component parts, assuming the form of lifeless compounds, are thrown off by the skin, lungs, and urinary system, aUered more or less by the secre- tory organs. This change in the living body is intimately connected with the process of respi- ration ; it is, in truth, occasioned by the oxygen of the atmosphere in breathing, which combines with all the various matters within the body. At every inspiration a quantity of oxygen passes into the blood in the lungs, and unites with its elements ; but although the weight of the oxygen thus daily entering into the body amounts to 32 or more ounces, yet the weight of the body is not thereby increased. Exactly as much oxygen as is imbibed in inspiration passes off in expiration, in the form of carbonic • acid and water ; so that with every breath the amount of carbon and hydrogen in the body is diminished. But the emaciation — the loss of weight by starvation — does not simply depend upon the separation of the carbon and hydrogen ; but all the other substances which are in combina- tion with these elements in the living tissues pass off in the secretions. The nitrogen undergoes a change, and is thrown out of the system by the kidneys. Their secretion, the urine, contains not only a compound rich in nitrogen, namely urea, 144 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. but the sulphur of the tissues in the form of a sulphate, all the soluble salts of the blood and animal fluids, common salt, the phosphates, soda, and potash. The carbon and hydrogen of the blood of the muscular fibre, and of all the animal tissues which can undergo change, return into the atmospherr:. The nitrogen, and all the soluble in- organic elements, are carried to the earth in the urine. These changes take place in the healthy animal body during every moment of life ; a waste and loss of substance proceeds continually ; and if this loss is to be restored, and the original weight and substance repaired, an adequate supply of mate- rials' must be furnished whence the blood and wasted tissues may be regenerated. This supply is obtained from the food. In an adult person in a normal or healthy condi- tion, no sensible increase or decrease of weight occurs from da)^ to day. In youth the weight of the body increases, while in old age it decreases. There can be no doubt that in the adult the food has exactly replaced the loss of substance : it has supplied just so much carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, and other elements, as have passed through the skin, lungs, and urinary organs. In youth the supply is greater than the waste. Part of the elements of the food remain t^ augment the bulk ORIGIN OF ANIMAL MANURES. 145 of the body. In old age the waste is greater than the supply, and the body diminishes. It is un- questionable, that, with the exception of a certain quantity of carbon and hydrogen, which are se- creted through the skin and lungs, we obtain, in the solid and fluid excrements of man and animals, ill the elements of their food. We obtain daily, in the form of urea, all th'^ nitrogen taken in the food both of the young and ih^ adult ; and further, in the urine, the wl ole amo t t of the alkalies, soluble phosphates ^nd sulpha ics contained in all the various aliments. In \he s-oiM excrements are found all those subst^iuces taken in the food which have undergone no altei- ation ir) the digestive organs, all indigestible mat- ters, such as woody fibre, the green coloring mat- ter of leaves (chlorophyle), wax, &c. Physiology teaches us that the process of nutri- tion, in animals, that is, their increase of bulk, or the restoration of wasted parts, proceeds from the blood. The purpose of digestion and assimilation is to convert the food into blood. In the stomach and intestines, therefore, all those substances in the food capable of conversion into blood are sepa- rated from its other constituents ; in other words, during the passage of the food through the intes- tinal canal there is a constant absorption of its nitrogen, since only azotized substances are capable 13 146 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRV. af conversion into blood ; and thercrure lliu solid excrements are destitute of that element, except only a small portion, in the constitution ol" that secretion which is formed to facilitate their passage. With the solid excreu'.ents, the phosphates of lime and magnesia, which were contained in the food and not assimilated, are carried off, these salts ' • ing insoluble in water, and therefore not enter- ing; the urine. We may obtain a clear insight into the chemi-. '.1 con-titttionof the solid excrements without i- ihet invf^ficctiion, by comparing the faeces of a do.. ;^'it.h Ilia ff:H)d. We give that animal flesh and bo', s — sub?iances rich in azotised matter — and w( o cin, astb^ last product of its digestion, a perfect'y - '.litb exv;'ement, solid while moist, but becoming lu f,'**^. dry air a powder. This is the phosphate of lime of the bones, with scarcely one per cent, of forei^ii organic matter. Thus we see that in the solid and fluid excre- ments of man and animals, all the nitrogen — in short, all the constituent ingredients of the con- sumed food, soluble and insoluble, are returned ; and a.' food is primarily derived from the fields, we possess in those excrements all the ingredients which we have taken from it in the form of seeds, roots, or herbs. One part of the crops employed for fattening Nature of animal excrements. 147 sheep and cattle is consumed by man as animal food ; another part is taken directly — as floair, po- tatoes, green vegetables, &c.; a third portion con- sists of vegetable refuse, and straw employed as litter. None of the materials of the soil need be lost. We can, it is obvious, get back all its con- stituent parts which have been withdrawn there- from, as fruits, grain, and animals, in the fluid and solid excrements of n\an, and the bones, blood and skins of the slaughtered animals. It depends upon ourselves to collect carefully all these scattered elenje:';,ts, and to restore the disturbed equilibrium of ccrnposition in the soil. We can calculate ex- actly how much and which of the component parts oi the soil we export in a sheep or an ox, in a quarter of barley, Avheat, or potatoes, and we can discover, from the known composition of the excre- ments of man and animals, how much we have to supply to restore what is lost to our fields. If, however, we could procure from other sources the substances which give to the exuviae of man and animals their value in agriculture, we should not need the latter. It is quite indifferent for our purpose whether we supply the ammonia (the source of nitrogen) in the form of urine, or in that of a salt derived from coal-tar ; whether we derive the phosphate of lime from bones, apatite, or fossil excrements (the coprolithes). 148 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. The principal problem for agriculture is,hoA' tO replace those substances which have been taken from the soil, and which can not be furnished by the atmosphere. If the manure -supplies an imper- fect compensation for this loss, the fertility of a field or of a country decreases ; if, on tlie contrary, more are given to the fields, their fertility increases. An importation of urine, or of solid excrements, from a foreign country, is equivalent to an import- ation of grain and cattle. In a certain time, the elements of those substances assume the form of grain, or of fodder, then become flesh and bones enter into the human body, and return again day by day to the form they originally possessed. The only real loss of elements we are unable to prevent is of the phosphates, and these, in ac- cordance with the customs of all modern nations, are deposited in the grave. For the rest, every part of that enormous quantity of food which a man consumes during his lifetime (say in sixty or seventy years), which was derived from the fields, can be obtained and returned to them. We know with absolute certainty, that in the blood of a young or growing animal there remains a certain quantity of phosphate of lime and of the alkaline phosphates, to be stored up and minister to the growth of the bones and general bulk of the body, and that, with the exception of this very smalJ VARIOUS VALUE OF EXCREMENTS. 149 quantity, we receive back, in the solid and fluid excrements, all the salts and alkaline bases, all the phosphate of lime and magnesia, and consc- queirdy all the inorganic elements which the ani- mal consumes in its food. We can thus ascertain precisely the quantity, quality, and composition of animal excrements, without the trouble of analyzing them. If v/e give a horse daily 4J pounds' weight of oats, and 15 pounds of hay, and knowing that oats give 4 per cent, and hay 9 per cent, of aslio, we can calculate that the daily excrements of the horse will contain 21 ounces of inorganic matter which was drawn from the fields. Bv analysis we can determine the exact relative amount of silica, of phosphates, and of alkalies, contained in the ashes of the oats and of the hay. You will now understand that the constituents of the solid parts of animal excrements, and there- fore their qualities as manure, must vary with the nature of the creature's food. If we feed a cow upon beetroot, or potatoes, without hay, straw, or grain, there will be no silica in her solid excre- ments, but there will be phosphate of lime and magnesia. Her fluid excrements will contain car- bonate of potash and soda, together with com- pounds of the same bases with inorganic acids. In one word, we have in the fluid excrements^ all the 13* 150 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. soluble parts of the ashes of the consumed food ; and in the solid excrement 5, all those parts of the ashos which are insoluble in M'ater. If the food, after burning, leaves behind ashes containing soluble alkaline phosphates, as is the case with bread, seeds of all kinds, and flesh, we obtain from the animal by which they are con- sumed a urine holding in solution these phos- phates. If, however, the ashes of food contain no alkaline phosphates, but abound in insoluble earthy phosphates, as hay, carrots, and potatoes, the urine will be free from alkaline phosphates, but the earthy phosphates will be found in the faeces. The urine of man, of carnivorous Jind gram- inivorous animals, contains alkaline phosphates ; that of herbivorous animals is free from these salts. The analysis of the excrements of man, of the piscivorous birds (as the guano), of the horse, and of cattle, furnishes us with the precise knowledge of the salts they contain, and demonstrates, that in those excrements, we return to the fields the ashes of the plants which have served as food — the soluble and insoluble salts and earths indispen- sable to the development of cultivated plants, and which must be furnished to them by a fertile soil. There can be no doubt that, in supplying these excrements to the soil, we return to it those con stituents which the crops have removed from it, VARIOUS VALUE OF EXCREMENTS. 151 and we renew its capability of nourishing new crops : in one word, we restore the disturbed equi- librium ; and consequently, knowing that the ele- ments of the food derived from the soil enter into the urine and solid excrements of the animals it nourishes, we can with the greatest facility deter- mine the exact value of the different kinds of ma- nure. Thus the excrements of pigs which we have fed with peas and potatoes are principally suited for manuring crops of potatoes and peas. In feeding a cow upon hay and turnips, we obtain a manure containing the inorganic elements of grasses and turnips, and which is therefore prefer- able for. manuring turnips. The excrement of pigeons c(mtains the mineral elements of grain ; that of rabbits, the elements of herbs and kitchen vegetables. The fluid and solid excrements of man, however, contain the mineral elements of grain and seeds in the greatest quantity. 152 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY LETTER XV. My dear sir : You are now acquainted with my opinions respecting the effects of the applica- tion of mineral agents to our cultivated fields, and also the rationale of the influence of the various kinds of manures ; you will, therefore, now readily understand what I have further to say of the sour- ces whence the carbon and nitrogen, indispensable to the growth of plants, are derived. The growth of forests, and the produce of mead- ows, demonstrate that an inexhaustible quantity of carbon is furnished for vegetation by the car-' bonic acid of the atmosphere. We obtain from an equal surface of forest, or meadow-land, where the necessary mineral ele- ments of the soil are present in a suitable state, and to Avhich no carbonaceous matter whatever is furnished in manures, an amount of carbon, in the shape of wood and hay, quite equal, and ofttimes more than is produced by our fields, in grain, roots, SOURCE OF CAR30N. 153 and straw, upon which abundance of manure has been heaped. It is perlectly obvious that the atmosphere must furnish to our cultivated fields as much carbonic acid, as it does to an equal surface of forest or meadow, and that the carbon of this carbonic acid is assimilated, or may })e assimilated by the plants growing there, provided the conditions essential to its ajisimilation, and becoming a constituent element of vegetables, exist in the soil of tliese fields. In many tropical countries the produce of the land in grain or roots, during the whole year, de- pends upon one rain in the spring. If this rain is deficient in quantity, or altogether wanting, the expectation of an abundant harvest is diminished or destroyed. Now it can not be the water merely which pro- duces this enlivening and fertilizing efl^'ect observ- ed, and which lasts for weeks and months. The plant receives, by means of this water, at the time of its first development, the alkahes, alkaline earths, and phosphates, necessary to its organization. If these elements, which are necessary previous to its assimilation of atmospheric nourishment, be ab- sent, its growth is retarded. In fact, the develop- ment of a plant is in a direct ratio to the amount of the matters it takes up from the soil. If, there- 154 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. fore, a soil is deficient in these mineral constituents, required by plants, they will not flourish even with an abundant supply of water. The produce of carbon on a meadow, or an equal surface of forest land, is independent of a supply of carbonaceous manure, but it depends upon the presence of certain elements of the soil which in themselves contain no carbon, together with the existence of conditions under which tlieir assimi- lation by plants can be efTected. We increase the produce of our cultivated fields, in caibon, by a supply oi^ lime, ashes, and marl, substances which can not furnish carbon to the plants, and yet it is indisputable, — being founded upon abundant experience, — that in these substances we furnish to the fields elements which greatly increase the bulk of their produce, and consequently the amount of carbon. If we admit these facts to be established, we can no longer doubt that a deficient produce o." carbon, or in other words the barrenness of a field does not depend upon carbonic acid, because we are able to increase the produce, to a certain degree, by a supply of substances which do not contain any carbon. The same source when the meadow and the forest are furnished with car- bon, is also open to our cultivated plants. The great object of agriculture, therefore, is to dis* SOURCE OF CARBOX. 155 cover the means best adapted to enable these plants to assimilate tlie carbon of the atmosphere which exists in it as carbonic acid. In furnishing plants, therefore, with mineral elements, we give them the power to appropriate carbon from a source which is inexhaustible ; while in the absence of these elements the most abundant sup- ply of carbonic acid, or of decaying vegetable mat- UT would not increase the produce of a field. With an adequate and equal supply of these essential mineral constituents in the soil, the amount of carbonic acid absorbed by a plant from the atmosphere in a given time is limited by the quantity v^'hich is brought into contact with its organs of absorption. The withdrawal of carbonic acid from the at- mosphere by the vegetable organism takes place chiefly through its leaves ; this absorption requires the contact of the carbonic acid with their sur- face, or with the part of the plant by which it is absorbed. The quantity of carbonic acid absorbed in a given time is in direct proportion to the surface of the leaves, and the amount of carbonic acid con- tained in the air ; that is, two plants of the same kind, and the same extent of surface of absorption, in equal times and under equal conditions, absorb one and the same amount of carbon. SOURCE OF CARBON'. 156 Iii an atmosphere containing a double propor- '.ion of carbonic acid, a plant absorbs, under the tame condition, twice the quantity of carbon. Boussingault observed, that the leaves of the vine, enclosed in a vessel, withdrew all the carbonic acid from a current of air which was passed through it, however great its velocity. (Dumas Le9on,p. 23.) Jf, therefore, we supply double the quantity of carbonic acid to one plant, the extent of the surface of which is only half that of another living in ordinary atmospheric air, the former will obtain and appropriate as much carbon as the latter. Hence results the effects of humus, and all decay- ing organic substances, upon vegetation. If we suppose all the conditions for the absorption of carbonic acid present, a young plant will increase in mass, in a limited time, only in proportion to its absorbing surface ; but if we create in the soil a new source of carbonic acid, by decaying vegetable substances, and the roots absorb in the same tin:*.': three times as much carbonic acid from the soil as the leaves derive from the atmosphere, the plant will increase in weight fourfold. This fourfold increase extends to the leaves, buds, stalks, &c., and in the increased extent of surface, the plant acquires an increased power of absorbing nourish- ment from the air, which continues in action far beyond the time when its derivation of carbonic SOURCE OF CARBON. 157 acid through the roots ceases. Humus, as a source of carbonic acid in cvdtivated lands, is not only useful as a means of increasing the quantity of carbon — an effect which in most cases may be very indifferent for agricultural purposes — but the. mass of the plant having increased rapidly in a short time, space is obtained for the assimilation o\' the elements of the soil necessary for \ht for- mation of new leaves and branches. Water evaporates incessantly from the sur- face of the young plant ; its quantity is in direct proportion to the temperature and the extent of the surface. The numerous radical fibrilliae replace, like so many pumps, the evaporated water ; and so long as the soil is moist, or pene- trated with water, the indispensable elements of the soil, dissolved in the water, are supplied to the plant. The water absorbed by the plant evap- oratinsr in an aeriform state, leaves the saline and other mineral constituents within it. The relative proportion of these elements taken up by a plant, is greater the more extensive the surface and more abundant the supply of water ; where these are limited, the plant soon reaches its full growth, while if their supply is continued, a greater amount of elements necessary to enable it to appropriate atmospheric nourishment being obtained, its devel- opment proceeds much further. The quantity, or U 158 LETTERS ON Clli:MISTRY. mass of seed produced, will correspond to the quantity of ndiieral constituents present in the plant, 'rhat plant, therefore, containing ihe most alkaline phosphates and earthy salts, will produce nwre or a greater weight of seeds than another which, in an equal lime, has absorbed less of them. We consequently observe, in a hot suiniaer, when a further supply of mineral ingredients from the soil ceases through want of water, that the height and strength of plants, as well as the development of their seeds, are in direct proportion to its ab- sorption of the elementary parts of the soil in the preceding epochs of its growth. The fertility of the year depends in general upon the temperature, and the moisture or dryness of the spring, if all the conditions necessary to the assimilation of the atmospheric nourishment be secured to our cultivated plants. The action of humus, then, as we have explained it above, is chiefly of value in gaining time. In agriculture, this must ever be taken into account ; and in this respect humus is of importance in favoring the growth of vegetables, cabbages, &:c. But the ceralia, and plants grown for their roots, meet on our fields, in the remains of the preceding crop, with a quantity of decaying vegetable sub- stances corresponding to their contents of mineral nutriment from the soil, and consequently with a SOURCE OF CARBON. 159 quantity of carbonic acid adequate to their ac- celerated development in the spring. A further supply of carbonic acid, therefore, would be quite useless, without a corresponding increase of min- eral ingredients. From a morgen of good meadow land, 2,500 pounds weight of hay, according to the best .agriculturists, are obtained on an average. This atnount is fnrnished without any supply of organic sul)stances, without manure containing carbon or nitrogen. liy irrigation, and the application of ashes or gypsum, double that amount will be grown. But assuming 2,500 pounds weight of hay to bo tiie maxitnum, we may calculate the amount of carbon and nitrogen derived from the atmosphere by the plarrts of meadows. According to elementary analysis, hfey, dried at a tempature of 100° Reaumur, contains 45.8 per cent, of carbon, and 1.5 per cent, of nitrogen. 14 per cent, of water retained by the hay, dried at common temperatures, is driven ofl' at 100°. 2500 pounds weight of hay, therefore, corre- sponds to 2150 pounds, dried at 100°. This shows us, that 984 pounds of carbon, and 32.2 pounds weight of nitrogen, have been obtained in the produce of one morgen of meadow-land. Supposing that this nitrogen has been absorbed by the plants in the form of ammonia, the atmo- 160 LKTTERS ON CHEMISTRY. sphere contains 39.1 pounds weight of ammonia to every 3,640 pounds weight of carbonic acid (^=984 carbon, or 27 per cent.) ; or, in other words, to every 1,000 pounds weight of carbonic acid, U!j^Q pounds of ammonia, that is, to about y-QoVoo the weight of the air, or qq^qq of its volume. For every 100 parts of carbonic acid absorbed by the surface of the leaves, the plant receives from the atmosphere somewhat more than one part of ammonia. With every 1,000 pounds of carbon, we obtain — 32 7-10 pounds of nitrogen- From a meadow . 32 7- From cultivated fields — In wheat 21.5 Oais . 22.3 Jlye . 15.2 Potaioes 34.1 Beetroot 39.1 Clover . "U Peas 62 Boussingault obtained from his farm at Bechel- bronn, in Alsace, in five years, in the shape of potatoes, wheat, clover, turnips, and oats, 8383 of carbon, and 250.7 nitrogen. In the following five yeais, as beetroot, wheat, clover, turnips, oats, an 1 rye, 8,192 of carbon, and 284.2 of nitrogen. In a further course of six years, potatoes, wheat, clo- ver, turnips, peas, and rye, 10,949 of carbon, 356.6 SOURCE )F NITROGEN. 161 of nitrogen ; in sixteen years, 27,424 carbon, 858.5 nitrogen: which gives, for every 1,000 carbon, 31.3 nitnjgen. From these interesting and unquestionable facts, wc may deduce some conchisions of the highest importance in their application to agriculture. 1. We observe that the relative proportions of carbon and nitrogen, stand in a fixed relation to the surface of the leaves. Those plants in which all the nitrogen may be said to be concentrated in the seeds, as the ceralia, contain on the whole less nitrogen than the leguminous plants, peas and clover. 2. The produce of nitrogen on a meadow which receives no nitrogenized manure, is great- er than that of a field of wheat which has been manured. 3. The produce of nitrogen in clover and peas, which agriculturists will acknowledge require no nitrogenized manure, is far-greater than that of a potato or turnip field, which is abundantly sup- plied with such manures. Lastly : and this is the most curious deduction to be derived from the above facts. If we plant potatoes, wheat, turnips, peas, and clover (plants containing potash, lime, and silex), upon the same land, three times manured, we gain in sixteen 14* 162 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. years, for a given quantity of carbon, the same proportion of nitrogen which we receive from a meadow which has received no nitrogenized manure. On a morgen of meadow land, we obtain in plants, containing silex, lime, and potash, 984 carbon, 32.2 nitrogen. On a morgen of cuUivated land, in an average of sixteen years, in plants con- taining the same mineral elements, silex, lime, and potash, 857 carbon, 26.8 nitrogen. If we add the carbon and nitrogen of the leaves of the beetroot, and the stalks and leaves of the potatoes, which have not been taken into account, it still remains evident that the culti- vated fields, notwithstanding the supply of car- bonaceous and nitrogenized manures, produced no more carbon and nitrogen than an equal sur- face of meadow land supplied only with mineral elements. What, then, is the rationale of the effect of manure — of the solid and fluid excrements of ani- mals ? This question can now be satisfactorily answered : that effect is the restoration of the elementary con- stituents of the soil which have been gradually drawn from it in the shape of grain and cattle. If the land I am speaking of had not been manured during those 16 years, not more than one half, oi SOURCE OF NTITROGEN. 163 perhaps than one third part of the carbon and nitro- gen would have been produced. We owe it to the animal excrements, that it equalled in production the meadow-land, and this, because they restored the mineral ingredients of the soil removed by the crops. All that the supply of manure accom- plished, was to prevent the land from becoming poorer in these, than the meadow which produces 2500 pounds of hay. We withdraw from the meadow in xhir. hay as large an amount of mineral substances as we do in one harvest of grain, and we know that the fertility of the meadow is just as dependant upon the restoration of these ingre- dients to its soil, as the cultivated land is upon manures. Two meadows of equal surface, con- taining unequal quantities of inorganic elements of nourishment— other conditions being equal — are very unequally fertile ; that which possesses most, furnishes most hay. If we do not restore to a meadow the withdrawn elements, its fertility de- creases. But its fertility remains unimpaired, with a due supply of animal excrements, fluid and solid, and it not only remains the same, but may be increased by a supply of mineral substances alone, such as remain after the combustion of ligneous plants and other vegetables ; namely, ashes. Ashes represent the whole nourishment which vegetables receive from the soil. By fur- 164 LETTERS OX CHEMISTRY. nishing tliem in sufficient quantities to our mead ows, we give to the plants growing on them the power of condensing and absorhing carbon and nitrogen by their surface. May not the eflec of the solid and fluid excrements, which are the ashes of plants and grains, which have undergone com- bustion in the bodies of animals and of man, be dependant upon the same cause ? Should not the fertihty, resulting from their application, be alto- gether independent of the ammonia they contain ? Would not their effect be precisely the same in promoting the fertility of cultivated plants, if we had evaporated the urine, and dried and burned the solid excrements ? Surely the ceralia and legu- minous plants which we cultivate must derive their carbon and nitrogen from the same source whence the graminea and leguminous plants of the meadows obtain them ! No doubt can be enter- tained of their capability to do so. In Virginia, upon the lowest calculation, 22 lbs. weight of nitrogen were taken on the average, yearly, from every morgen of the wheat-fields. This would amount, in 100 years, to 2,200 lbs. weight. If this were derived from the soil, every morgen of it must have contained the equivalent of 110,000 lbs. weight of animal excremeits (as- suming the latter, when dried, at the temperature of boiling water, to contain 2 per cent.). SOURCE OF NITHOGEN, 165 In Hungary, as I remarked in a former Letter, obacco and wheat have been grown upon the same field for centuries, without any supply of nitrogenized manure. Is it possible that the nitro- gen essential to, and enterLig into, the composi- tion of these crops, could have been drawn from the soil ? Every year renews the foliage and fruits of our forests of beech, oak, and chestnuts ; the leaves, the acorns, the chestnuts, are rich in nitrogen ; so are cocoa-nuts, bread-fruit, and other tropical pro- ductions. This nitrogen is not supplied by man. Can it indeed be derived from any other source than the atmosphere '^ In whatever ybrm the nitrogen supplied to plants may be contained in the atmosphere, in whatever state it may be when absorbed, from the atmo- sphere it must have been derived. Did not the fields of Virginia receive their nitrogen from the same source as wild plants 1 Is the supply of nitrogen in the excrements of animals quite a matter of indifference, or do we receive back from our fields a quantity of the ele- ments of blood corresponding to this supply ? The researches of Boussingault have solved this problem in the most satisfactory manner. If, in his grand experiments, the manure whicii he gave to his fields was in the same state, that is, dried al 166 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. 1 10*^ in a vacuum, as it was when analyzed, these fields received, in 16 years, 1300 pounds of nitro- gen. But we know that by drying all the nitro- gen escapes which is contained in solid animal excrements, as volatile carbonate of ammonia. In this calculation the nitrogen of the urine, which by decomposition is converted into carbonate of ammonia, has not been included. If we suppose it amounted to half as much as that in the dried excrements, this would make the quantity of ni- trogen supplied to the fields 1950 pounds. In 16 years, however, as we have seen, only 1517 pounds of nitrogen, was contained in their produce of grain, straw, roots, et cetera — that is, far less than was supplied in the manure ; and in the same period the same extent of surface of good meadow-land (one hectare = a Hessian mor- gen), which received no nitrogen in manure, 2060 pounds of nitrogen. It is well known that in Egypt, from the de- ficiency of wood, the excrement of animals is dried, and forms the principal fuel, and that the nitrogen from the soot of this excrement was, for many centuries, imported into Europe in the form of sil ammoniac, until a method of manufacturing this substance was discovered at the end of the last century by Gravenhorst of Brunswick. The fields in the Delta of the Nile are supplied with SOURCE OF NITROGEN. 167 no other animal manure than the ashes of the burnt excrements, and 3'et they have been proverbially fertile from a period earlier than the first dawn of history, and that fertility continues to the present day as admirable as it was in the earliest times. These fields receive, every year, from the inunda- tion of the Nile, a new soil, in its mud deposited over their surface, rich in those mineral elements which have been withdrawn by the crops of the previous harvest. The mud of the Nile contains as little nitrogren, as the mud derived from the Alps of Switzerland, which fertilizes our fields after the inundations of the Rhine. If this fer- tilizing mud owed this property to nitrogenizf-1 matters ; what enormous beds of animal and ve- getable exi.'vice and remains ought to exist in the mountains of Africa, in heights extending beyond the limits of ])erpetual snow, where no bird, no ani- mal finds food, from the absence of all vegetation ! Abundant evidence in support of the important truth we are discussing, may be derived from other well-known facts. Thus, the trade of Hol- land in cheese maybe adduced in proof and illus- tration thereof. We know that cheese is derived from the plants which serve as food for cows. The meadow-lands of Holland derive the nitrogen of cheese from the same source as with us ; that 18, the atmosphere. The milch cows of Holland 168 LETTERS ON CHEMISTRY. remain day and night on the grazing-grounds, and therefore, in their fluid and solid excrements re- urn directly to the soil all the salts and earthy elements of their food : a very insignificant quan- tity only is exported in the cheese. The fertility of these meadows can, therefore, be as little im- paired as our own fields, to which we restore all the elements of the soil, as manure, which have been withdrawn in the crops. The only differ- ence is, in Holland they remain on the field, while we collect them at home and carry them, from tirao to time, to the fields. The nitrogen of the fluid and solid excrements of cow s, is derived from the meadow-plants, which receive it from the atmosphere ; the nitrogen of the cheese also must be drawn from the same source. The meadows of Holland have, in the lapse of centuries, produced millions of hundred- weights of cheese. Thousands of hundredweights are annually exported, and yet the productiveness of the meadows is in no way diminished, although they never receive more nitrogen than they origi- nally contained. Nothing then can be more certain than the fact, that an exportation of nitrogenized products does not exhaust the fertility of a country ; inasm^'c'i as it is not the soil, but the atmosphere, which furnishes its vegetation with nitrogen. It follows SOURCE OF NITROGKN. 169 consequently, that we can not increase the fertility of our fields by a supply of nitrogenized manure, or by salts of ammonia, but rather that their prod- uce increases or diminishes in a direct ratio with the supply of mineral elements capable of assimi- lation. The formation of the constituent elements of blood — that is, of the nitrogenized principles in our cultivated plants — depends upon the presence of inorganic matters in the soil, without which no nitrogen can be assimilated, even when there is a most abundant supply. The ammonia contained in animal excrements exercises a favorable effect, inasmuch as it is accompanied by the other sub- stances necessary to accomplish its transition into the elements of blood. If we supply ammonia associated with all the conditions necessary to its assimilation, it ministers to the nourishment of the plants ; but if this artificial supply is not given, they can deriv^e all the needed nitrogen from the atmosphere — a source, every loss from which is restored by the decomposition of the bodies of dead animals and the decay of plants. Ammonia certainly favors and accelerates the growth of plants in all soils, wherein all the conditions of its assimilation are united ; but it is altogether with- out effect, as respects the production of the ele- ments of blood where any of these conditions are wanting. We can suppose that asparagin, the ac 15 170 LETTERS OS CHEMISTRY. ijve constituent oi aspar a make . . .A Couple. " Ducks, ) 12 DOG AND GUx\. Two Pointers or Setters, are . A Brace. Three " " ... A Leash. 7^0 make a Bird Dog stand . . . Toho ! " " drop to shot . . Charge ! " " come behind . Heel ! " " move caiitionslv Steady ! " " rise from the charge Hold Up ! " " hunt for dead bird . Seek Dead! " " bring in dead after pointing it . . Fetch ! Having given thns much from Herbert's Snorting No- mcnclature, I may add tliat a dog is said to quarter his p-onnd, NOT " to hunt about the field ;" he breaks his charge, and docs not "jump up and run after the birds." He retrieves game when lie brings it in. He Jlushes the levy (if he is ill-behavedj) and does not " scare up the flock." The single bird sometimes towers, (^. e. flies very high and almost perpendicularly), if shot through the brain or heart. The bevy generally Jiies to covert when disturbed, but the sportsman marks them down. If he is a good shot, he hags quite a number. My young readers will remember my J^ule the First : Call Quail, Quail ! And here I will add another almost as short. It is founded on the fact that there is no such thing as a Par- tridge, on the whole broad continent — a fact that taboos to the American sportsman the word covey. I knoAv that far better sportsmen than I am, habitually use it ; but it is a custom we should *' reform altogether." My Rule the Second, then, is : Call a Bevy of Quail, A Bevy of Quail ! CHAPTER II. H:o\^ TO CHOOSE A aooD auN. The prime necessity of a young sportsman, is, of course, a good gun. If he has plenty of money, there need be little difficulty in supplying himself, quite speed- ily, with an excellent article. He has but to get a Ti-iend, or some reliable business man, not in the trade of selling guns, to import him one from the workshop of Westley Riohards, or Purday, or Moore, or some other crack Eng- lish maker, and the thing is done. Such a gun, reliable and perfectly well-finished, will cost from $300 to $500. Frank Forester tells us that guns, a good deal resembling this fine English work (and really being of English manu- facture), put up in very nice mahogany cases, with velvet lining, may be bought for from $75 to $150. Hundreds of toese guns are sold annually, in hardware and other stores. They are called by Forester Brumagem ware, taking the name from a corruption of Birviwgham (Eng- land), where a vast deal of such showy but unreliable stuff is fabricated. By the way, Richards is the only Birmingham maker of any repute, and it is said of him, in these latter days, that his barrels are too soft. At any rate, his reputation is on the decline. Manton (the suc- cessor, of course, of old Joe Manton), is a fourth rate maker. There are a dozen or more, however, who are said to make as good guns as " old Joe" ever did, and there is no difficulty in getting the article, provided you are able and willing to pay for it ; but the best informed think it bad policy to import a gan which costs under (13) 14 DOG AND GUN. T300. Even tliat is rather low. If unable to stand these figures, the better plan, accorcllng to Herbert, is to get Constable, of Philadelphia, or John MuUin, of 16 Ann street, New York, to build you one. Of the former, I know nothing, except by reputation ; but of Mr. Mullin I can speak, after trying his work, with the utmost confi- dence. He built me a gun, a little more than a year ago, at the instance of my friend, Mr. Porter, of the Spirit of tJie Times, which comes up fully to all he engaged it should do. I believe that his forte is the making of the heavier descriptions of ban-els, especially for bay and river duck-shooting. His work is perfectly neat, and while, of course, it wants the extreme finish of the costly English gun, is to the full as honest a shooter. And if for $150 (with $10 to $20 for cover, case, and small ap- pliances), you get a piece with all the substantial qualities of hard, dose shooting, regularity in dispersion of shot, and au,rability of barrels and locls, which you would obtain in an English gun for $300 or $400, the gain is greatly yours. These qualities I and some friends of mine have obtained, within these last two or three years, from Mr. Mullin, at the mentioned price. The guns he has sent to Georgia and Alabama, so far as I can ascertain, after a good deal of inquiry, have in no instance ffiiled to prove themselves the very hardest and closest shooters. While on the subject of Mullin's work, I will state that his best barrels are laminated steel. Somehow or other, I had imbibed a strong prejudice against them, notwith- standing one of the very best guns I ever shot was one of them, made by Stevens, which I have parted with be- cause it was of laminated steel. It was a little difficult for Mr. Mullin to convert me from this prejudice, but he did finally succeed. In a letter to me, he says : '* I give you a description of the laminated steel barrels, which you seem so much to fear. They are made of thin layers CAPACITY OF RESISTANCE. 15 of steel, twisted as a rope of three strands, and then twisted around a rod to form the barrel ; then welded and then put through the annealing process, which takes all, or nearly all, of the carlon out, and leaves the barrels all the closeness of steel, and all the toughness of fine iron. Suppose all the carbon is taken out of your razor, and it rendered iron once more, then what iron can compare with it in closeness and toughness?" Again, in another letter, he sends me a table of the comparative capacity of resistance of different barrels, and says : " I hope the scale opposite will satisfy your fears, and when you come to use the gun, I feel certain no man could prevail on you to go back to iron barrels ; the steel kill so clean and keep so clean, and no give-out in their shooting powers." Again he says : " They (the steel barrels) will not lead on ac- count of their closeness, nor Ireech-hiirn, but maintain their power of shooting," &c. The following is the table of comparative strength of the different materials used in gun building, furnished me a year or two since by Mr. Mullin : Laminated Steel ig equal ) g Q22 lbs to a pressure of . . ) ' Stubb Twist . . . . 4,818 " Charcoal Iron .... 4,526 " Three-penny Skelp Iron 3,841 " Damascus Iron .... 3,292 " Two-penny Skelp Iron . 2,810 " Assuming the correctness of this comparison, and I know nothing to throw any doubt upon it, the laminated steel ought to drive other descriptions of barrels out of the market entirely. The ''two-penny skelp" guns, I presume, are those which we see sold every day, in the stores, painted outside in rings like a raccoon's tail, and which are familiarly known as pot-metal. How any man of sense should risk his life forty times a day with such a PRESSURE OF SURFLrS THE CHARGE. STRENGTH. 1,700 lbs. 4,322 lbs. 3,118 " 2.826 " 2,141 " 1,592 '♦ 1,140 " 16 DOG AND GU.\. weapon, I cannot comprehend ; but I presume a great many who have brains do not so jeopard them. In determining' as to the size of a gun, reference is of course to be had to the character of the shooting it is intended for Practically, in the South, almost every man limits himself to a single gun "of all work." He wants one convenient and tolerably effective in a deer, turkey, or duck hunt, and not too heavy for a day's fagging after quail or snipe. All writers and persons of any experience, agree that the di- mensions of a gun for these various purposes, are as follows : — Length of barrels, . . 32 inches. Gauge, . . . . No. 14. Weight, . . . 6^ to 7^ lbs. I believe that, from some cause, or other, more good guns are made of these measurements than of any other. It may be that the makers have so many to supply, that practice and experience in the particular size have gra- dually taught the exact relations of all the parts. For the larger game mentioned above, it is better to have 32 to 34 inches, 10, 11, or 12 gauge, and 8 to 9 lbs. weight. But most men overweight themselves. A gun should be fully within the strength of tlie person who is to handle it. A strong man, ceteris paribus, shoots always better than a feeble one ; the weak should shoot as light guns as are effective. To be sure, I do not practice what I preach-shooting an eight and a half pound gun, when six pounds would better suit my muscles — but then all small men are ambitious ! The custom of using long, small-gauged guns — for in- stance (and nothing is more common), barrels 34 to 36 inches, and 15 to 18 guage — is ridiculous. No man but a pot-hunter, ignorant and irreclaimable, would do so. Not POWDER. 17 but that many of these guns do shoot excellently, but they do so not on account of their great length. In my opinion, a 14 gauge gun of 32 inches will carry as far as the same gauge with a half dozen inches added. If you increase the calibre, length may properly be added ; but for any shoulder gun, I have no doubt 34 inches is quite enough, though possibly two inches more may benefit. In purchasing guns in New York, or importing them to that city, I would recommend any friend of mine to en- gage the services of no one, out of the trade, but Wm. T. Porter, Esq., of the Spirit of the Times. If he has one made there, let him by all means go to MuUin, whom I re- commend simply and solely, because I have dealt with him, paid him his best prices and got just what I wanted on all occasions. Having got a gun, we naturally proceed to charge it. The chief difficulty is to obtain clean, strong powder. I know of but oi^ powder answering this description* — that of Curtis & Harvey, English manufacturers. Their diamond grain is all that powder can be, or ought to be ; their large grain, ducking powder, does not answer so well for our river and pond duck shooting. My attention was first attracted to the Diamond Grain by Forester's work, and I have never since willingly used any other. It is rather stronger than Du Font's, and a pound will hardly foul a gun so much as a half dozen loads of the latter, which, like all American powder, is ineffably filthy. Curtis & Harvey's powder can generally be obtained of Messrs. W. B. & A. R. Bell, Dry Goods Dealers, Montgomery, and of Aubrey & Co., Froduce Merchants, Mobile. These firms ••' Since the above was written, I have become satisfied that the " Electric Powder," of the ILnard Company, is almost as clean as tho " Diamond Grain." It Uthelest Aeri^ ii Powder. Parker, Morris & Co., of Mobile, are the Agents for Alabama. 18 DOG AND GUN. import it, principally as an accommodation to their sport- ing friends, and sell it at -Si 25 — low enough, all things considered. For caps, Starkey has the best reputation, but his are excessively dear. JEley's double water proof, at $3 a thousand, are good enough for anybody. Richards' are said to be good. I know no others that are. As for cartridges, Eley's are the only ones. They are excellent for a careful, good shot, and increase the effective range of a gun from 20 to 40 yards. But careless or in- expert hands will find no advantage in them ; the reason is at moderate distances they require an exactitude of aim very nearly the same as in rifle shooting. I shall say more of them hereafter. CHAPTER III. ON THE CriAKQINQ OF A OUN. It may seem almost a waste of time, ink and paper, to discourse at any considerable length, of so simple a mat- ter as the charging rf a gun. And jet, I feel certain, that ignorance on this subject is more general than on almost any other branch of sporting. The number of men who load properly, is exceedingly small in proportion to the number who shoot. There are errors very common, both as to the proportions of powder and shot, and as to the comparative effect of light and heavy charges. Pot-hunters invariably load by far too heavily. Ob- serve boys who hunt squirrels and birds about the outskirts of the town, and you will soon see that any one of them will consume, in an afternoon, about as much ammunition as would serve a sportsman for a whole day's continuous shooting.. The vulgar idea is, that a shot-gun is effective in proportion to the amount of powder and lead crammed down it, and many do therefore procure very large guns because they will bear larger crammings — and that with- out much reference to the particular service in which the piece is to be employed. All popular fallacies have some slight foundation in fact ; but that reasoning which says, that if one and a quarter drachms powder and one ounce shot will, with a particular gun, kill quail at forty yards, double the quantity of each will kill the same bird at eighty yards, is utterly defective. There is hardly a better test of sportsmanship than a man's mode of loading his gun. It is true that one may (19) 20 DOG AND GUN. load well and slioot badly, but practically it will be found to be very rarely the case. The doing of this thing well implies the powers of observation which go far towards making a passably good shot. Possibly a deficiency of a physical nature, such as want of muscle or unsteadiness of nerve, may unfortunately belong to the individual who charges his gun in the very best manner ; but then he knows how the shooting ought to be done. As I have said already, most guns are overloaded. There is usually about as great a quantity of. powder burned in shooting squirrels, at twenty to forty yards, as it would be proper to expend in shooting deer, or even bear, at long ranges. It is really a wonder that more of the pot-metal barrels do not burst under the treat- ment they receive, in this respect. Their owners pack them with a liberality which can only be the result of absolute ignorance of the powers of the agencies they invoke. A half-handful of powder and a handful of shot is about the common charge, without any considera- tion as to distance, size of shot, kind of game, or capacity of the gun. The little experience I have had, leads me to the be- lief, that even with good sportsmen, the error is almost invariably overcharging. In shooting quail, particularly, very small loads are sufficient. One of the most success- ful of my friends shoots a little less than a drachm of powder to about three-quarter ounce of number-seven shot. AVith this charge he is quite as certain at long shots, as any one of my acquaintance. I think, however, that he is a little under the mark as to quantity of powder, and uses shot a number too large. For quail shooting, the true pro- portions, in my opinion, are : Powder (" Diamond Grain,") one and a half drachm. Shot, number eight, one ounce. This I would give only as an approximation to the true •^^'EIGHT OF CHARGE. 21 proportions fortbe thirty-tAvo inch fourteen-gauge gun; be- cause the peculiar shooting of the j)^i'ticular gun may make some slight change necessary. Forinstance, a very strong shooter will not need more than a drachm to make the ounce of shot thoroughly effective at any ordinary range. Again, though number eight, " day in and day out," is — as Forester stoutly maintains — the, shot for quail, yet I have known guns which killed them cleverly with sevens which did not do so with eights. The reason for which eights are prefeiTed is that the number of pellets to the ounce is much larger than of sevens. The difference between these two numbers is greater than between any other two numbers of shot Forester estimates that a number-eight shot bears the samo relation, in size, to a quail, that a gi-ape shot does to a man of ordinary frame. Allowing, then, largely for supe- rior tenacity of life, on the part of the bird, the smaller shot is amply large for his execution, if driven through him, as it always will be, if the gun is of the right kind and properly charged. For snipe shooting, I suppose that there need be no va- riation from the above, except as to the size of shot. Most persons use ninesy I believe, in this kind of shooting. My experience does not entitle me to an opinion, but if I ever have opportunity to try the sport, I shall experiment w^ith a number smaller — number ten. Perhaps the widest variances, in so far as shot are con- cerned, occur among those who shoot ducks. Those who depend mainly on killing them on the water, from behind a stump or log, invariably use large shot — from threes up to B. Those who do not go a-pot hunting use fours and fives, and some as low as sixes. The last mentioned is, however, quite small enough for the Mallard, which is re- markably strong both of bone and feather. They will not only carry off, at times, a good many pellets, but their 22 DOG AND GUN. strong plumage is excellently defensive against shot. Coming breast on in a right line, it is commonly believed that the thick cushion of feathers on the body will cause small shot to deflect. But I am inclined to think that a difference of one or even two numbers would not change the effect, in this respect. Forester recommends number four for the Mallard, and I would sooner stand on his than any other single experi- ence. For such guns as are most commonly used in the sport, the correct charge would be about One and three-quarter drachms powder. One and a quarter ounce shot. These are less than the quantities spoken of in the Sporting Books, in connection with the" subject of Duck Shooting ; but it must be borne in mind that I always speak, in these papers, with reference to guns of a maxi- mum weight of nine pounds. For Turkey Shooting, the most successful hunters I know, recommend B or BB shot. The old-fashioned idea of large buckshot is going out of vogue. The turkey has immense vitality, and it really makes little difference with what size of shot you blow a hole through his body, if you leave his back, wings and legs unbroken : he will be very apt to take himself off, out of your reach, to die. JFor riddling' the. head and neck (which can be done at forty to fifty yards with any good gun), the chances are very greatly multiplied by the use of B or BB shot ; and either of these !^izes will very effectually break a wing or dis- able the back. As a general thing, in all sorts of shoot- ing, the most common mistake is to use too large pellets j but the disadvantages of doing so are hardly as manifest in any other description of hunting, as in turkey shooting. 1 have no doubt but that Eley's Wire Cartridge an- swers a better purpose for killing the turkey, than for any other game. The sport generally gives ample time for WEIGHT OF CHARGE. 23 careful sliootiiig, and the great force of the cartridge and its regular dispersion of shot, enable the hunter to count with great certainty on perforating the neck or head, at fifty or even sixty yards. But in shooting cartridges, there is a rule to be remembered which does not hold, at all in the shooting of loose shot. With the latter, the less the powder used, the closer your shot go. With the cartridge, the greater the charge of powder, the greater the velocity of the cartridge, and, consequently, the less the time allowed, in a given distance, for the expulsion of the shot from the wire cage, and the consequent scattering. You must therefore increase your powder (up to a certain limit, of course), to increase the velocity of the cage and its contents. If I were going to shoot turkeys, I would use two drachms of moderately coarse-grained powder to an ounce and a half of B shot. Or two and a half drachms powder to a BB cartridge. This suggests to my mind the chief objection I have to Eley's cartridge. The BB cartridge, gauge 11, weighs two ouiices ; i. e. one and a half ounce shot, and half ounce bone dust (in alternate layers with the shot), wire cage, cork, and paper. These two ounces are in a very dense, compact form ; it is almost equivalent to shooting the same quantity of bar lead. The weight requires at least two and a half drachms strong powder to keep it well in line for fifty-five or sixty yards. If it Avas made to weigh half an ounce less, its range would, I think, be considerably increased by the use of the same amount of powder. Very few men like to shoot more than two and a half drachms, and some will not go that far. A reduc- tion of Aveight, in those made for the American market, would greatly increase the sale of the article. There is one rule to be observed in loading, for long shots, with loose shot — to increase the powder and dimin- 24 DOG A\D GU.\. isli the shot. The reason for this is obvious : you need increase of power to penetrate, which you cannot have, if shot is proportionally increased with the poAvder. This rule is very often violated. Persons are apt to give too little attention to the relations of powder and shot in the charge. I think that one of the first things a man should do, after (if not before) purchasing a new gun, should be to go out and try it, with all the numbers of shot from eight up to one, to ascertain what numbers it disperses most evenly. Supposing your gun to shoot strcng, the next thing is this evenness of dispersion ; and some guns do best with certain numbers, and some with certain others. Having ascertained which your gun affects, use the7}i of course. My own opinion is that barrels finely finished inside show their superiority most strikingly in throwing the small sizes. No man who knows anything about shooting, will ever use any other plain wad, than Baldwin's patent. Mr. Mullin informs me, that if they are saturated with melted sheep's fat, they clean the barrel- admirably. I firmly believe this, and I especially 'believe also in the free use of oil on the inside and outside of a gun. This is considered heterodox by many, but I adhere to what I find to be of practical utility, in my own experience. Another excellent cleaner is Eley's Patent Concave Felt Wad. It will also improve the shooting of any gun. Shot disperse more evenly before it than before any thing else. In buying them, it is best to select a number larger than your bore, for then the concavity is less likely to be affected by ramming. The only objection to them is their high price : they retail here in Montgomery at $1 50 a bag. Nevertheless it is cheapest to use them at all such game as turkeys, ducks, &c. DINKS ON DOGS. 25 I have gained some practical ideas by looking occa- sionally at the exhibit of the number of pellets to the ounce, of each variety of shot. The following tables are taken from Hawker :• — MOULD SHOT LG MG SO >SSG SSSG PATKNT DROP SHOT. AA A BB B 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 NO. OF PELLETS TO loZ. [hardly] 9 11 15* 17 40 50 58 75 82 112 135 177 218 280 341 600 984 1725 Nothing I conld add to this chapter would be half so use- ful as the following extract from " Dinks on Dogs," a most admirable little work ; "And now methinks I may safely add a few words on guns. This, of course, especially to the rising generation. I need not tell you not to put the shot all in one barrel and the powder in the other, though I have frequently seen it done, yea, and done it myself, when in a mooning fit ; but I will say, never carry your gun at full cock, or with the hammers down, tlian which last there cannot be anything more dangerous. The slightest pull upon the cock is * Best and most perfect of all mould shot. 2 26 DOe A\D GL'\, sufficient to cause it to fall so smartly on the cone or nipple as to explode the cap. Positively, I would not shoot a day, no, nor an hour, with a man who so carried his gun. At half-cock there is no danger. By pulling ever so hard at the trigger, you cannot get it off; and if you raise the cock ever so little, it falls back to half-cock, or, at the worst, catches at full cock. Never over- charge your gun. Two to two and a half drachms of powder,* and one ounce to one and a quarter of shot, is about the load. For summer shooting still less. Never take out a dirty gun, not even if only once fired out of, even if you have to clean it yourself. After cleaning with soap, rubbed on the tow in warm, or better, cold water, without the soap, if not over dirty, remove the tow, put on clean, and pump out remaining dirt in clean warm water, rinsing out the third time in other clean warm water. In- vert the barrels, muzzle downwards, while you refix your dry tow on the rod. Work them out successively with several changes of tow, till they burn again. Drop a few drops of animal oil — refined by putting shot into the bottle ; neat's foot oil is best for tliis — on to the tow, and rub out the inside of barrels with it well. Wipe the outside with oil rag, cleaning around the nipples with a hard brush and a stick ; ditto hammers and the steel furniture. Use boiled oil to rub off the stock, but it must be well rubbed in. Before using next day, rub over every part with a clean dry rag. Nothing is more disgusting than an oily gun, and yet nothing is more requisite than to keep it so when out of use. In receipts you will find a composition to prevent water penetrating to the locks, which ought to be as seldom removed as possible. I shall not tell you how to do this, for if you do know the how, where is ~" I have been long satisfied that this is overcharging, and some of my most successful friends agree with me. COST OF A eOOD GUN. 27 the necessity, and if you don't, in all probability you would break a scear or mainspring in tlie attempt, as I did, wlien first I essayed, and after that had to get the gamekeeper to put it together. So your best plan, in this latter case, is to watch the method for a time or two, when you will know as much of tlie matter as I do. If you want a gun of first rate workmanship, you will have to pay a swinging price. Fifty pounds for a tip-top London gun ; thirty-five pounds for a Westley Richards. . One London gun will outAvear two of Westley's. Wliy, I cannot say, but all his barrels are soft. Moore & Gray sent some eighty dollar guns to this country last year, the best and cheapest common guns I have seen. For finish, I would as soon have them as Westley Richards' guns. There is not much choice between any London maker, and there are several Birmingham makers fully equal, if not superior to, Richards. Always keep your powder dry, and in a dry place. Never shoot with anything but English powder, Curtis & Harvey's diamond grain, Hall's glass or rifle, both same quality, and Pigou & Wilks' best powder. There is very little choice between them. They are strong and clean shooting powders. Don't use too large, nor yet too small shot. Six, seven, and eight, are your mark for ordinary work ; for duck, from common gun, number four. Never leave your dog whip at home : you always want it most on those occasions. A gun thirty one inch barrel, fourteen gauge, and eight pounds weight, is as useful an article as you can have. Never poke at a bird, that is, try to see him along tlie . barrels. If you do, you never can be a good or a quick sliot Fix your eye or eyes on the bird, lift up your gun and fire the moment it touches your shoulder. Practice this a little, and believe me you will give the pokers the go-by in a short time. It is the only way to be a sharp shot And now I will have done, trusting I have not wasted your time in reading so far to no purpose." CHAPTER lY. THE SETTER AND POINTER. The dogs in universal use, for tlie hunting of game birds, are the Setter and Pointer. The Cocking Spaniel or Springer (which Forester considers to be the original stock of the Setter), is unknown in the Southern States, and can only be procured with great difficulty at the North. As he will probably not be mentioned again in these pages, it may be as well to remark that he is a very small dog, with some of the characteristic marks of the setter, but having a more curly coat and longer ears. He does not set his game, but indicates a near approach to it, by a slight whining. From what I gather about him in the books, I incline to the opinion, that he would be more useful here than in the Northern States. Every sports- man knows how frequently vre are balked, by quail be- taking themselves to thick black-jack and other coverts. For such ground the Cocker is said to be admirably adapt- ed. Birds lie better before him than before the setter or the pointer. I therefore hope that our sportsmen will be- gin to import them. The authorities are divided on the question of prefer- ence between the setter and the pointer. Each has its good qualities ; each its defects. Bat I hare not the slightest doubt, that Jor this climate, the pointer is the proper dog. His tender skin and liability to suffer with cold, are more than counterbalanced by his capacity to endure thirst and heat. In Alabama, at a moderate estimate, one-third of the shooting season, from first October to first (28) PREFERENCE FOR THE POINTER. 29 March, is made up of days quite too warm for the comfort of the setter. It is often too oppressive to the sportsman himself. The pointer can and does endure it, hut the set- ter takes " fits" occasionally, and frequently compels his •owner to cease his amusement, in pity for the sufferings of his dog. There is another reason why the pointer is hetter adapted to the South. We have no professional dog-break- ers here, and our sportsmen are lamentably loose in their ideas and practice of training.. The setter can be subdued into perfect obedience and the most admirable perform- ance ; but with imperfect training and careless manage- ment he becomes utterly worthless, while the pointer is only comparatively so. This is the general rule ; a few setters are as docile, steady and reliable, after having been once well broken, as any pointer. I will add another objection to the use of the setter here. In a majority of instances, our shooting grounds are infested with that detestable weed which produces what is vulgarly known as the '"* cuckle-burr." It adheres in large quantities to the long and silky coat of the set- ter, gets between his legs and chafes off the skin, and makes him both ugly and miserable. It is not long since I saw a specimen of its effects, upon a very fine-looking dog, which had almost lost the power of locomotion by its terrible punishing. The short, satin coat of the pointer offers no hold to the vile thing ; and a moment's reflec- tion vrill convince the sportsman that this immunity is a vast advantage. I shall conclude this chapter with a letter from Dr. E. B. J., of Macon county, a friend whose opinion on the subject of dogs or their training, I would rather have than any amateur's I know of. " By his works" he may be " known ;" his dogs are the best broken in the State. In chapter six I shall give a letter from Mr. G. W. Cootei, 30 DOQ AND GUN. of New York, a professional trainer of extensive expe- rience, who lias kindly furnished me with a description of his mode, which will be found highly interesting to the tyro. The subjoined shows Dr. J. 's : ** Friend H : Having promised to give you some few* hints relative to the training of setters and pointers, I proceed to do so with due modesty, feeling my total in- capacity, as T have had but little experience ; yet, still to the mere novice, I may give some advice that may en- able him, with his own judgment, to train his dogs to his own advantage. There are several modes of training — different ways for accomplishing the same end. I simply propose to suggest the plan that seems most simple to myself, which I have collected from books, my own ohser- ration, and the suggestions of others. Some authors will recommend you to discard the lash altogether ; others to use it most freely. You may make a good dog with the lash ; by its indiscriminate use spoil the best. My idea is, that it is next to impossible to train a dog properly with- out it ; yet it requires the nicest judgment when, and to what extent, to use it. A dog should never be lashed until he is made fully to understand the whi/ — or, it may be, in inculcating a lesson that you cannot otherwise en- force. " Before giving our few lessons in training, it may not be amiss to give a few hints as to the selection of a good pup from the litter. I will mention what I consider the ne plus ultra of a good* pup : — well formed limbs, wide between the eyes— eyes full but not too prominent^ fi ontal sinuses well developed ; the head broad and full ; the poll large ; muzzle rather long and only slightly tapering ; ears rather long, very thin, and angular ; tail long, small and tapering, presenting a very rattish appear- ance I consider this one of the best marks of good SPORTING TERMS, 31 blood in the English Pointer. The hair short, thin, and very fine and glossy — this mark I regard above all the rest, as I think a fine silken coat indicates a nervous, active temperament — the sense of smell will be apt to be acute, and I think it almost impossible for him to be sluggish. In selecting a pup, one should suit his fancy as to color, as there are good dogs of all colors, but the lighter for the field the better, for reasons obvious. " Now for sporting terms. I notice that H., in his * Chapters on Shooting,' discards from his nomenclature one term I consider of much importance, i. q. hie on! This is one of the first I teach my young dog. I do not use it to make him flush, but there are many instances where it is useful in the field. Our young sportsmen (as I only write for very young '\ins, being one of 'em my- self), will be better able to see its use after reading my few lessons. I think it all important that sportsmen should use as few terms as possible ; yet I think that an- other phrase might be introduced into your nomenclature with benefit — it is close on. It is a slang term, not at all technical, but I use it with great convenience. I per- ceive that H. is down upon all slang terms, and the word heed ! in particular, and I admit with some justice. Wish- ing to establish an uniform sporting nomenclature, I can but admit, I like the word on account of the force and emphasis with which it may be used. But concurring in the desire for an uniform sporting nomenclature, like him- self, I will discard it, and henceforth use the more techni- cal phrase, toho ! or ho ! " Now for our pupil. We should take him in charge quite early — as early as the second month — I like to ac- custom him to obedience from his earliest fwpjpyhood, to engraft upi>n his very nature obedience — and that you can- not do, but by beginning very early. I have heard of 32 DOG AND GUN. dogs running wild until a year old, and then brought into training, but I have never seen one properly trained at that age. Such an one might satisfy the novice and pot- hunter, that know not what a trained dog is, but the true sportsman would kick sueh from his kennel. Our pupil's first lesson should be toJio ! steady ! Me on ! and if you admit my slang phrase, close on — (pronounced cloze on). These words you can very soon with patience learn him by means of a plate of beef, or such other food as he very much fancies. You should place a small piece of beef in a plate before him. Of course he evinces very great anxiety to 'pitch in.' You repress his ardor, by giving him a slight tap upon the head, crying toho ! Of course he does not understand the meaning of the word, but every time he starts, check him with a tap, crying toho ! with emphasis. After repeated trials, he soon associates the word with tlie slap, and stops of his own accord. AiiQv pointing for a few seconds, cry 7iie on ! at the same time gently forcing him towards the plate. Hie on ! he learns amazingly soon. A few such lessons and the words are learned, to be retained. The word steady is now easily learned, by making him approach the plate slowly, crying steady ! steady ! at sliort intervals. When near the plate, cry tolio ! never permitting him to eat until you give the word Me en ! " The word dose, on should be used when you wish him to break his point, but not * 'pitch in ' to the plate ; before he arrives at the plate cry toho! and then hie, on! when he has pointed, by the word close on, he must understand that he is to move cautiously, by the oft-repeated com- mand of steady ! Steady ! — close on, should not be used with the same emphasis as hie on and toho ! With care, these words may be soon learned to the pup — recollecting never to use severity at this age, and that no other hand TRAINING. 33 than your own should furnish him with food, and always hear in mind that you are not to begin a new lesson until the old one is thoroughly understood. " Your next lesson should be doivn charge ! or either of the two words separately — as down^ or charge ! This he is made to understand by gently forcing him down, keep- ing his hind legs well up under him, extending his fore legs, and forcing his head gently between them, crying charge! charge! tapping him every time he moves. Practice him frequently in this position (using only suffi- cient severity to make him obedient), until he is obedient. Now to make your dog drop at the command, you should cry charge ! charge ! with your hand upraised ; forcing him rather roughly into the required position, and by fre- quent practice, you will soon have him drop to the word. When you wish him to rise, cry hie uf !. at the same time gently raising him until he understands ; this he will now. readily do, as he already associates the word hie with action. AVhen your dog behaves well, never faih to eur courage him with caresses ; when badly, let him be made to know and feel it. When giving this lesson, you should have your pupil within doors or an enclosure, so that he cannot play the truant. In this instance it may be well to pursue ' Dinks' plan — use a cord, fasten him to a peg ; make him charge ; walk off from him ; if he attempts truancy, the cord retains him ; return, lash hira gently, make him charge again ; walk off some distance, still crying charge ! charge ! always with hand upraised. You should practice him until he obeys the summons at any distance. You may now practice your dog every time you feed him, thus : place a portion of his food a few paces from him, make him charge ! cicse on ! steady ! Heady ! toho ! charge ! close on ! steady ! steady ! to- ho ! (or ho ! ) hie on ! "Now to teach yoiur dog to retrieve. First begin with 2^ 34 DOG AND GUN. Bomethlng soft — an old glove will best answer your pur- pose — first make liim toy and play with it, then cast it a short distance from you — he will naturally chase it and return with it to you — encourage him Avith caresses. You should practice this often, always using the term, hie, fetch ! when you send him after it, and fetch ! or come in ! when you wish him to return. To teach your dog the word come in, you should use it upon all occasions when a short distance from you ; you may use it when you call him to feed him, &c. To teach him the word, you may let him accompany you in a walk, having a slight cord attached to him. When he plays too far ahead, check him, cry come in ! if he pays little attention to the summons, draw him in rather roughly by the cord. When you wish to teach him the Avord hack ! or to heel (I prefer the word hack), you should check him by the word hack ! hack ! Make him follow behind you, and when he attempts to go ahead give him a tap with the whip (an article the sportsman should never be without). The words are very easily learned. Your pupil should be early accustomed to the call of an ivory whistle, when too far to hear the call come in ! " To return to retrieving. To teach a dog to retrieve, frequently requires a great deal of patience and perse- verance ; but rest assured when once accomplished, you will be amply repaid for your trouble. You will some- times hear your friend say, * my dog will not retrieve ; he has no disposition to do so. I cannot make him,' &c. It is not so ! I believe any pointer or setter can be made to retrieve Avell. After all toying and coaxing fails, then you must try the virtue of the lash, remembering always to use it with moderation, and be very careful that you do not cow your puppy. Tins is the m.ode I Avould re- commend. Within your room or yard where you will be undisturbed — recoUectir g that the presence of company, HOUSE TRAINING. 35 man or dog, should be prohibited. First begin by placing your glove within mouth, make him retain it ; if he re- jects it, replace it, gently correcting him, crying fetch ! fetch ! After he understands the meaning of the word fetch, you may let him accompany you in a walk, in some quiet place. Whenever he drops the glove, you must gently and encouragingly replace it, crying, fetch ! fetch I If he rejects it, then the lash must be used, though spar- ingly. If you study the disposition of your dog and manage properly, he will soon perfectly understand you, and gaily and happily gambol along side of you, never daring to drop his charge and if he should, he will only need the words, hie, fetch ! fetch ! fetch ! to make him bound back with eagerness after the lost glove. You may now take the glove, cast it from you, and tell him to hie, fetch ! he will immediately return with the glove. You may now let him see you drop the glove, walk off thirty or forty yards, waive your hand in the direction of the glove, and cry hie, fetch ! he Avill of course regain the glove. After practising him at this often, you may drop the glove unobserved by him. He will soon follow your track for a considerable distance for a lost article, by receiving the command, hie, fetch ! You may now give the glove to another person to hide, first permitting the dog to see it in his possession, and he will be almost cer- tain to find it, if it is at all accessible. In your first lessons be careful that you place the glove where your dog will be certain to find it — not too far off. There is another term or trick I teach my dog, that is not abso- lutely necessary, but it is most easily learned, and I find it quite convenient in the field, and besides it somewhat adds to his accomplishments. It is hie over — a command to leap — often necessary to make your dog * cross fence.' To teach him, you first cry toho ! to make your dog stand ; you then hold tolerably near him a piece of beef 36 DOG Ai\D GUN. then use a stick as a barrier between him and it, making it necessary for him, to leap for it, upon receiving the com- mand hie over ! If he disregards the Avord hie over, use hie on ! and afterwards hie over, until he understands, which he soon does by frequent practice. Very soon he can be made to over leap a chair or cane without the in- citement of a dainty morsel. A few words of advice, and your dog is ready for the field. After your dog begins to retrieve, make him play with the ball — practising all the lessons Avith it that he learned with his heef. (I usually begin my first lessons with the aid of beef on account of the dog's great love for it, and because he is much more apt to learn his lessen:^ for such a prize; but I think it very improper that he should be fed regularly with it, as it injures his scent). The ball that I have used and prefer, is the head of the femur of the ox, nicely covered with cloth ; the reason why, he is less likely to month the birds after using such. He gets into the habit of taking up his ball easily, as otherwise it would hurt his teeth, it being of bone. Having made an innovation by the intro- duction of a slang phrase — i. e., close on — I must give my reasons for so doing. I have frequently been out sport- ing with dogs not trained to its use, and I have frequently experienced the greatest inconvenience. If the dog should have a good nose, and the breeze a little stiff, he will not unfrequently point a bevy, or even a single bird, thirty or forty, and even fifty yards. When such is the case, what is the usual procedure ? Why, you generally see the sportsman begin to kick his dog on, step by step, thirty or forty yards — a sight not altogether sportsman- like or gentlemanly, I ween. With a dog taught the w^ord close on, the difficulty is at once overcome. You can always tell when your dog is very near a bird, so there is no need of flushing, by the too frequent command of close on ! HOUSE TRAINING. 37 " The young sportsman must recollect that he cannot train his dog in a day or a month, but that he must prac- tice him for many montes ; and even so long as the dog should live, he should never be suffered to forget his lessons. " The above is all that I consider necessary for house training. If it should he desirable, I may give a few items to the young sportsman upon his first taking his dog to the field." CHAPTER Y. b'lELD TRAININQ. " Friend H : Having promised to give you my mode of ^ Field Training,^ I propose to give you what I have found to answer best my purpose. Taking it for granted that your puppy Dash has had proper house training, you should select such grounds as will enable you to keep your pupil always in sight. He should be taken out alone at first, unless you find that he is deficient in action. When such is the case, you will do well to take him out with an old, well-trained dog, of fine action ; and it will be well to take them to a field where you will not find game. Your object, of course, will be to get your pupil in the way of hunting briskly at a full gallop. He will soon get in the habit of going as you wish. Nothing looks so bad to the eye of a sportsman as a pacing or trotting dog in the field. Most thorough bred dogs will carry themselves handsomely. Taking it for granted that your dog now possesses fine action, you should take him to a field where you will probably find game. In beating the field, always go against the wind ; do not let Dash play more than fifty or eighty yards from you, and be careful at first to quarter your ground, to teach your dog to do so — call his attention by a single blast of your whistle — waft your hand to the right diagonally across the field ; when he has gone some eighty yards in the required direction, you will call his attention by another blast — wafting your hand to the left, going yourself in the same direction. By pursuing this course for a short time, you (38) FIELD TRAINING. 39 will soon be enabled to cast him off to the right or left without trouble. Be careful to call his attention bj a sin- gle blast on the call — to waft your hand in the required direction — pursue the same course yourself for a short time, audit will not be long before you will be pleased with the result. When you wish him to come in., when at an inconvenient distance to speak to him, repeat the blast upon the call three or four times. Dash, in his early days of puppyhood, will be sure to point sparrows and everythhig else having feathers that will nestle under the grass. For this you must not chide him too roughly, but simply call him off, and pay no attention to the bird ; by no means shoot anything except game before him. By pursuing this course, Dash will soon heed nothing save game ; but if he shows much perverseness, as some will at times, the lash must be used. You must expect fre- quently to have your patience sorely tried with your pu- pil. You must always keep him in sight, and when he does strike his first bevy he will be sure to point, if he is of the right stock, which I take for granted he is, as no true sportsman will take the trouble of training any other. *' After giving Dash house training and he should refuse to point his first bird, I would be disposed to turn him over to the halter. I have a dog Avhich pointed his first quail when three months old, without ever having seen or previously scented one ; at four or five months of age, he was as stauncli as I could wish — I could control him on the point, making him charge, close-on, &c. He had thorough house training. " When you observe Dash more excited than usual, you may reasonably expect a bevy near. They will not proba- bly be far off, as he has not become accustomed to the familiar and welcome scent that will enable him to wind them at a distance. Now comes the trying hour for mas- ter and pupil. The former should be perfectly cool, and 40 DOG AND GUN. should consider the killing of game a secondary affair — let him give his attention to Dash. The dog seems too eager for the scent — you cry steady ! steady ! — if he is apparently near the game, and you are afraid he will flush, you cry tolio ! You approach and find the quail do not rise — you tell him to close-on, which he does hy moving rather rapidly — you check him by crying steady ! steady ! he points, toho ! You now approach and flush the bevy; be sure you briug down one bird, and it will be well that you only fire one barrel, that you may have more time to look after Dash, who of course scampers after the whirring bevy. You immediately cry toho ! come in ! — on, on he goes ; in his Avild excitement he disregards your will en- tirely. You now use your whistle. By this time the birds are out of sight (but you, of course, have marked them), and he is running belter skelter. You must soon get hold of his collar, drag him rather roughly back to where he pointed — lashing him slightly — and make him charge ! and keep his position until you reload ; after which you will take him to where your bird has fallen — indicate the place with your hand, Q,Yjm^ hie fitch ! fetch ! fetch ! From his previous lessons he will know that you wish him to look for something, and his nose will soon tell him what it is. Do not let him mouth or toy with it, or he will soon get in the habit of roughly mouthing your game, than which I scarcely know a worse habit. '* You may now rest for a short time,that the bevy may get over their fright ; after which they wdll be more easily found, for if they have been very much frightened, they will not give out sufiicient odor to enable your pupil to point w^ell, and he may consequently flush them, thereby doing great harm. You cannot do better than to spend your time in repeating your house training with the dead quail : casting it from you, telling him to close-on ! steady ! charge ! hie-on ! fetch! Cast it some distance unobserved FIELD TRAINING. 41 — waft your hand in the proper direction, and tell him hie fetch ! fetch ! fetch ! After a short time has elapsed, you may take Dash to where you have marked the birds. When near the birds, keep Dash near you, that he may be the more easily controlled. If he seem too eager, he only needs the command of steady ! to control him. Let the command bein rather an undertone — never get into the snobbish habit of bawling at your dog. Apart from its being an ungentlemanly habit, it frightens the quail more or less, and they will not lie so well to the dog. Ha ! but Dash has come down to a point most beautifully, toho ! You carefully approach, flush and shoot the bird, and im- mediately give your attention to the dog, crying charge ! in a strong and emphatic tone; if he breaks, get hold of his collar as soon as possible and lash him, and at the same time drag him to his 'point and make him charge and keep his position until you reload. You then cry hie-up, make friends with him, and cast him off — he soon points again. You manage to get very near the dog, and when you fire, immediately cry charge ! and it would be well to accompany " the word with a blow," at this junc- ture. You make him charge, reload, cry hie-up, indicate the point where the bird has fallen, and command him to hie fetch ! He gayly and gladly does your bidding with- out mouthing your bird. You cast him off again, and always manage to control him after you fire — never, never suffering him to break shot without feeling the lash. Re- member this is the most critical time for yourself and dog. Never suffer yourself to become excited ; do not for some time fire more than one barrel, that you may sooner give your attention to Dash, and you will accomplish much if you can be near enough to Dash to give him the lash as he first springs from the point, at the same time crying, charge ! If you do not suffer yourself to become excited, and lose sight of your dog after your shot, you will soon 42 DOG AND GUN. have liim to drop at the report of the gnn ; but rest as- sured, if you let him have his own way a few times, in your eagerness to secure game, you will rue it for many a day to com.e. You cannot have this fact too strongly impressed upon yourself. If you control him from the first., your object will be attained. If Dash evinces un usual perverseness in this, it will be well to make hirr-. charge while on a point. Even should he see a dead bird fall, he should not retrieye without permission. "Should you wing a bird, do not suffer him to chase it It is far better that you shoot it again, or that you lose it, than he chase it. You will see the importance of house training, and the command charge in particular. It mat- ters not at Avhat distance Dash is from you, or how excited he may be, he must be taught to obey the word. More fine dogs have been ruined by suffering them to break shot when young without proper correction, than in any other way. Make this a point to be attained, and when secured you have a trained dog, as everything else is early attained. With the exception of making Dash charge Avhen there is a bevy whirring about him, he may perform as well as any old and well-broken dog. You can make him close-on, steady, and toho, and keep him upon the point by the command as long as you desire. Never suf- fer him to flush the game for you, or you may ruin him. I came near ruining the best dog I ever owned, by making him flush. He was very young, and under perfect con- trol : I could make him point, close-on, and hie-on to a bevy when I wished. I began by making him flush for me when under thick cover, so that I might have a better snap shot, by being at a proper distance when the bird first rose from the ground. After behaving beautifully for a short time, he concluded that he understood his duty better than I did ; consequently, after pointing as long as he thought necessary, he would flush without regard to FIELD TRAINING. 43 the command. Sorely, sorely did this mis-step trouble me before I broke liim of tlie habit ;. but by patience I finally succeeded, by making him charge upon the point, and flushing myself." " When your dog points a hare, be sure to shoot it in its form, and never let him chase it. It is impossible to keep him from sometimes pointing it, but you can and must prevent chasing." CHAPTER YI. REMARKS ON TRAININa The most that can be done in the way of conveying instruction, in regard to the training of dogs, without prac- tical illustration, is to state the results to be attained, to- gether with an outline of the mode by which to reach them. In practice, the details Avill necessarily vary very considerably. One man will find this mode, another that, to be most efficient ; besides which, the disposition of the particular animal sought to be controlled, will in a con- siderable degree aflfect the character of the training to which he is to be subjected. After all, the knowledge which is to be imparted to sporting dogs, is comprised in the under- standing of a very few terms — and the great idea in their education is the enforcement of a jprompt, unhesitating ijhedience to every command. For myself, though no great advocate of the whip, I believe that no dog, up to the high- est standard of sporting finish, has ever been turned out, without having the great principle of obedience flogged into him, very early in life. A dog may be conxed into performing the charge, in a slow, slovenly, reluctant man- ner ; but whenever you see him drop at the crack of your gun, as if the load were driven through his head, you may set it down that that dog associates promptness with escape from severe punishment. I may be wrong ; but my opinion is, that those who would discard the whip en- tirely, are persons who would not in the field, among dogs which found and pointed birds, know the difference be- (44) COLOR AND FORM. 45 tween a perfectly well-broken pointer and a " pot-liunt- ing cur." In my last chapter, I gave the mode adopted by a friend whose success is equal to, if not greater than, that of any Southern sportsman I know. I now present, in his own words, the method of managing dogs practised by Mr. 0. W. Cooter, of Havana, New York, a breaker of great experience, and whose establishment, though not large, will be as apt to supply a well-bred and Avell-broke dog, as any in the country. Mr. C, it will be observed, for convenience, adopts the dialogue form, the purchasing visitor being supposed to be inspecting his kennels : MR. COOTER'S METHOD. " 0. — As you are desirous to know my method, sir, I will just take this black and tan setter bitch — she is three years old, was brought over the water, and I got her for sixty dollars. Although well broke, she does not come up to some that I have broke in this country, and so I have found all English broke dogs ; the habits of the birds and the covers are so different, that a dog takes two years to become acquainted. *' She was last put to the black and tan dog two years old. You see they resemble each other in shape and style of movement ; these points I consider of great impor- tance." " H. — Do you not think that the dog would get stronger pups, was he, say, three or four years old?" ** C. — Unquestionably ; but then as I have none older, I prefer the colors to match, than to put that splendid red dog, although I v»^ould do that in preference to any other colors." " H. — Then you think colors ought to be attended to as well as form ?" ** C. — Certainly I do j'and disposition, constitution and 46 DOG AND GUN. purity of blood, ought always to be looked at, and then we sliould not have so many indifferent pups in a litter. And I would beg to state here, that I would not cross a setter and pointer upon any account. I have bred many litters, but the trouble comes in when you require to continue breeding. I go for pure setter or pure pointer^ " H. — In that, sir, I agree with all my heart." " C. — When I perceive symptoms of the bitch comingin heat, which she will show five or six days before she will take the dog — I place her and. the dog in a safe room together, so as to play — by so doing, I find that the bitch will become more attached, and therefore 7?iark her pups more after the dog. As soon as I have seen the bitch stinted, I remove the dog for a day, and then place them together again for another twenty-four hours. I then re- move the dog entirely, and as soon as the nine days of heat are over, I let the dog and bitch take a walk with me, and if no inclination is shown in the bitch for the dog, I consider her safe to go nine weeks from the first stint- ing. As I feed all my dogs with boiled Indian meal mixed with cold milk, the bitch gets a share, but if she gets too fat I put her under chain." " H. — Would you recommend flesh to a bitch V " C. — -By no means, as that often breeds mange and hu- mors, which will come out on the pups. I provide a warm bed in a shady situation, and always leave the bitch alone to pup — give her a good clean bed of pine shavings, and remove the dead pups the next day. Let the pups be well fed on new milk and old corn mush as soon as they will eat ; wean them at five weeks. By applying brine to the slut's teats, you will soon dry her up and have her ready for a hunt. I always let the bitch be loose when suckling her pups." " H. — Would you use medicine at such times ?" "0. — If a bitch or dog is sick, I go to the Field Sports of BREAKING THE PUPS. 47 * Herbert^ or * Yoiiatt,' and take a recipe for tlie disease, but at all other times I use nothing but stone sulphur in their drinking water." **H. — Do you keep setter and pointer pups in the same kennel?" '' C. — I prefer not, as I think the pointer requires a warmer house, and so I act, letting the pups out for a run once a week. I couple them two and two together until the open fields are reached, and then turn them loose, and always walk slowly myself in a zigzag way across the field. By so doing they will acquire the habit of quar- tering their ground. Should any attempt to scale the fence before you, turn your back on him and walk off, giving one sharp whistle — of course you will use the whistle and gun at feeding time every evening." "H. — But would you not commence breaking the pups in the house ?" " C. — No, sir ! I have broken many dogs in England, and have handled nearly five hundred in the United States, and my plan has been to let the pups be exercised in the above way, until they are ten months old. I never take a gun in the field, but allow them to hunt and chase without chiding them ; by so doing I find they acquire the method of finding birds when they have secreted themselves — it gives them a bolder appearance, and con- fidence in themselves." *' H. — Why, this is a new idea, and I must know how you proceed." *' 0. — As soon as I find that a young dog has got bold in his gallop, and hunts for game — supposing him to be from ten to fourteen months old — I take him with one or two well broke dogs, out very early in the morning, and let him run for one or two hours. He will then become a little tired, and in that time will have scared up some game, so that I will know where to take him back to find ; but 48 DOG AND GUN. before I do so, I couple the pup with one old dog ; as soon as the shigle (broke) dog points, the other broke dog will back him ; or if I hold up my hand, he will stop, which compels the young one to do so ; if not, walk up to the pair, and pusli the pup down ; he will get up, then push him down again, and continue to do so, saying each time * charge r but not aloud, to scare the game — a good box on the ears with the hand will assist this first lesson. Walk backwards each time towards the pointing dog, then kill the bird ; the well broke dog will not move whilst you stand still yourself. When the gun is re-loaded and cap- ped, say * hold up/' or * whistle ;' this will start the three in motion ; the old dog will be sure to point the dead bird. The word ' toho,' or * charge,' will stop the pair, and another box on the ears will get the pup on his belly. Then I pick up the dead bird myself, and walk back to the pup and show it to him — see that he smells the feet, but should he desire to bite it, say ^charge!' or * toho r and press my foot on his toes ; this tells him he must not catch it. Fronf the time the point was made, you have wasted half an hour. I then follow the same system for an hour or two ; if I do not find game, I dis- charge the gun at times, and make the dogs ' charge,' and after re-loading, drop my dead bird, unseen, and then call the coupled dogs up, showing them as before ; by this time the pup has become docile without the whip. You can then let him loose, but put a bed-cord on him, with a * rag ' at the other end. He will commence hunting, and should the old dogs make a point, or you think the pup is on the scent of game, walk quietly towards the rag, step on it, and as that stops him, say ' toho r Should he be anxious to get on, take the cord in your hand, and jerk him back a foot or two — then say ^steady !' and as he draws on, stop him again and again, until the bird is *pointedf^ and then shoot the bird on the ground, if pos- BREAKING THE PUPS. 49 sible. Do not * yell ' or scold, but be as cool as you would in sitting down to dinner among ladies. I have followed this plan for years, ivhen alone, and never knew it fail. But let me here state that a man cannot do it who is desirous to ohtain game. I am well pleased if I can kill from three to five birds in a six hours' tramp. As soon as the young dog begins to lag, kill a few birds over the old ones, and they will be well pleased with their day's work. The next day take your young dog with one old one, put the check cord on the youngster, and see that he does not commit a fault. Should he be a wilful dog, you must Avhip him ; but the check cord will do wonders, if the master is particular to attend to the young dog. He will now begin to point his game well, and do not by any means allow him to get hold of a bird, but keep him to drop at the discharge of the gun — when told to * hold up ' — to draw up to the dead bird and point it, and then pick it up yourself. In three days your pup will be quite a dog. Give him a day's rest at times, but keep at him »i part of three or four days a week for six weeks. If the dog is intended for yourself, I would not allow him to 'fetch' the first year; but as I have to break dogs for gentlemen, I have to teach them to * fetch ' before they go home. I therefore adopt the following plan :" ** H. — Do I understand you the pup has not as yet been taught to * fetch ' anything ?" " C. — Certainly, and for this reason : A dog that has been taught about the house, is often fooled (by a boy) unknown to yourself, and when you desire him to 'fetch,' he will then often cause you a great deal of trouble, and sometimes become hard mouthed ; and again a dog that is taught to * fetch ' will often break * shot ' when he sees the bird drop." " My plan is this : After shooting over one or two — I prefer three — young dogs, and they have become per- 3 50 DOG AND GUN. fectly steady to j^oint game^ to * back * another dog, to * drop' at ^shot,' and to point a dead bird, I take a single dog into a room, and then show him a live winged bird — game, of course — after holding the bird and playing with the dog a few moments, I cast the bird from me, saying at the same time, '■fetch ' it, in a kind voice. He will most always do so ; if not, play with him again, open the door, and toss the bird into the darkest corner of the room. He will then lift the bird, and as he comes out of the door, catch him, and take the bird away, and reward him with a piece of cake. I follow this plan two or three times a day, taking care not to tire the dog of this new sjport. Keep him from the field for three days, and then take him aloTie, kill game, and see that he points his dead bird as before, and then tell him to '■fetch r Should a young dog lift a bird before these lessons, do not chide him, but speak kind, and walk from him immediately. He will then come running after you, and then take the bird, but do not recompense him by flattery,' *' H. — Well, this is a new system, for I have always con- sidered that a dog must be broke under the * whip.' " " C. — The whip is a good article in its place, for an old, headstrong dog, but the check-cord is better even than that in such a case, as it does not cow a dog down like the whip. I mver walk up a bird, but, let the dog be ever so staunch, stoop down and pat him, or even pvsh him — for this reason : how many good shots you will lose if your dog will not go into a piece of thick brush, and let you stand on the outside ! Should a dog jump on to his game, walk so as to be able to tread on the check-cord, every foot ; this will make him crej^jp like a cat up to his bird. Should a dog puzzle or nose the ground, stop him at once by the puzzle peg, which is made in this way : Take a piece of pine board nine inches long, whittle off six inches to the size of your finger — the ather end should resemble the COST OF A GOOD POINTER. 51 palm of your hand. Tix four wire staples at each corner to run a string or small strap to ; tie one string at the back of the ears — the other should slip over the tusk of the lower jaw. I once shot with a keeper in Kent, Eng- land, who always used it, and his dogs were noted for the style they made their game at a distance." " H. — Well, sir, I have heard of your dogs being well broken, and I will take a pair. What are your prices V* " 0. — We cliarge $60 for a pointer or setter that does not fetch, but broken to point live and dead game, and drop at shot, $75, for either pointer or setter that has all the above qualities, and ' fetches.' Should you like your purchase, you or your friends can send us a draft, and state the size they require, also the three best colors they approve of, and we will ship them by express from New York City." CHAPTER YII. ADVICE TO THE SPORTSMAN. Among the various contributions I have received from sportsmen in different sections of the country, I find the two which follow. It may be said of them, that each in- culcates a good lesson to the gunner. The first illustrates the folly of some good men and good sportsmen in a cer- tain particular; the second, how egregiously the inexpe- rienced hand may be deceived in the character and capacity of a dog. And I will take occasion here to remark, that in my opinion very few dogs are ever too impetuous, or, as it is often termed, high-strung, if training is commenced sufficiently early and continued assiduously and without inter- ruption. It is, however, a settled thing in my mind, that an animal of the highest degree of courage and game, cannot be allowed to run wild until he is from six months to a year old, and then be broken into perfect steadiness with any reasonable amount of drilling and punishment. Mejudice, the proper age to begin the training of a puppy, is from six weeks to two months. Any puppy of that age can be taught, in from, ten minutes to as many hours, to obey the order to " charge,'" with perfect promptness. Nothing else need be taught him for some little time ; but a constant practice of this, until it becomes a " second nature" to obey it like a flash, with his quarters hand- somely under him, his paws extended in front, and his head between them and well down on the ground — and to remain, with the passiveness of death itself, for half an hour, if required. Day in and day out, should he be (62) **GUNS UP." 53 practised at this duty, and the more regular and the longer the lessons are, the better dog will he he. The sketches I suLjoin are from a Northern sportsman, to whom I am already under obligations. I give first — GUNS UP! OR, A DAY WITH A GOOD SHOT. Speaking of the improper and careless way in which some sportsmen handle their guns, brings to mind a day's shooting I once had with one of the quickest shots I ever hunted with. We will term him Frank, for convenience. He had written me to inform him when I would have two or three dogs for sale, and the most convenient time for him to come and try them. In answer, I wrote him that I had three, whose colors grouped well together, and which matched well for size, action, and temper ; and the best time for a trial was about the first of September in the North. He came as appointed, and after a late dinner and segars we retired early fo bed. Frank was up early, and dressed for shooting — a clean, laminated steel seven- pound gun, diamond powder, and number seven English shot — a pocket full of caps, and a small flask of brandy. Thus equipped, after breakfast Ave started for the stubbles close by my house. The dogs had been let loose for an hour, to empty themselves, and now went off with the word hie-on, in a dashing style. I will here describe the dogs: "Czar," an orange white setter; " Shot," a red and white, with black tinge on the red, setter ; and " Don," a fawn and white pointer. They were all two years old, and the price I put on them was $260. I noticed at start- ing that Frank handled his gun in a careless way, and told him that a gun pointed continually at me was often the cause of making me nervous. His reply was, that I need not fear him, as he had shot for years. As I said 54 DOG AND GUN. above, the dogs went to work in a gay style, and soon crossed a couple of fields ; when, as we mounted the thh'd fence, a fine bevy of quail raised and dropped into a corn- field close by, and as the dogs went up the wind, ** Czar'' made a point, and as I whistled " Shot" and '* Don" turned in their range and backed him ; but as he com- menced drawing, the three were soon together — each one anxious to make the game, but as I had marked the birds, we went on, and in the next field '* Don" and " Czar" pointed togethei", * Shot' backing them a short Avay oif. We now walked quietly up, and as we came within three or four yards, the word " hold-aj),^^ in a gentle voice, caused them to creep on towards the game ; and now the three form a jncture — each dog points in a different atti- tude, with tails straight, necks extended, and lips quiver- ing. I asked Frank if he thought that style suited him. He exclaimed, " The sight is worth a journey to see !" and at the same time up went the old cock quail. Frank dropped him in a moment. The dogs dropped at the dis- charge of the gun, and as I had loaded and capped, a whistle of gentle tone caused them to raise quietly and point staunch. A whistle, and they creep like cats for a few yards, when " burr," ** burr," and the whole bevy flew in a scattered form in all directions. I dropped my single bird, (shooting as I do with a single-barrel gun). The dogs "charged." I then turned to Frank, who said he had got a pair down, and had marked the rest in the same place as myself. We now re-loaded, and the dogs being hied-on, they went up to the place where the birds had lain, and then on to the dead birds, which they point- ed. I asked Frank to pick up the bird under " Don's" nose, whilst I picked up the single bird and turned to find Frank's other brace. The dogs hunted them carefully, but only found one, ar.d as they seemed to trail towards a ditch, I got Frank to go and stand above it, whilst I went **GUNS UP." 65 with the dogs below to give them the wind, and as the dogs hunted carefully, I observed the winged bird dodg- ing among the weeds ; and getting within a couple of yards, I took the liberty of removing its head. This plan I prefer, sooner than let the dogs chase after it, as that often causes dogs to flush the next birds they come to. While re-loading, I was startled by the shot of Frank's gun whizzing by me. It appeared, by his account, that he had placed the gun across his shoulders, and 'in turning around, the cock caught by a tAvig which raised it suffi- ciently to strike the cap and explode. He had shot a sapling asunder just about the height of my head, which caused me to think it a better subject to experiment upon than the head of a father of six children. We now went on. Finding three bevies more, Frank bagged his pair out of each ; but as to myself, I was suffi- ciently engaged in trying to dodge the muzzle of Frank's gun, as he sometimes dropped the same in a line for my heart, as we mounted a fence, or grasping it with both hands across his shoulders. He had became so much ac- customed to do so, that his accident nor my continual cau- tion of " guns up !" had any effect on him ; and he is not the only good shot that has this bad fault. We now crossed an old pasture field covered with whortle berries, and as the dogs neared a corner down by a swamp they all showed symptoms of game, and as we came near them, stood in a bold style — when " whirr, whirr," went a pair of ruffed grouse, and Frank made a handsome right and left of them. While he was re-load- ing, three more got up, one after the other, giving me a good shot. " Hie-on " to the dogs, when three more birds fell to our guns ; one being hit in the eye commenced, fluttering, which tempted " Shot" to break from '* c/zar^e," and dashing in flushed the rest of the grouse ; which offence was rectified by my dragging him back to where 56 DOG AND GUN. he started from and administering a good strapping, ac- companied with the words '* charge! " " charge /" After making friends with the three dogs, by patting them, they commenced pointing the dead birds. *' Czar " had ranged into the swamp, and on my calling ''fetch,'" he soon re- turned with a winged grouse. We now turned towards the places where we had marked the different bevies — Frank shooting in a most splendid style. Except the careless manner of pointing his gun in the direction of your humble servant, and hold- ing his hands over the muzzle Avhen seeing me correcting the dogs, he was perfection. We now entered the corn field, and as I cautioned the dogs with the word " steady,'" cock after cock got up, but the corn was so high and the weeds so thick, we could not shoot, or see our dogs ; and the cocks not being expected there, I proposed to leave them for after lunch, and then use my pair of spaniels. Therefore, taking a line for the house, we crossed the wet grounds that led into the swamp, and something close to the dogs flapped up and down again by a bush so quick that I could not tell what it was ; but the dogs going on soon came to a faint point, and " sceap," ** sceap," went a pair of jack-sni]3e, — bang, bang, bang, and not a bird. I chided the dogs with *' Toho ! toho, sirs .?" and then loaded my gun. " Shot " and " Don '' now went off to the left, making a stiff point, while ** Czar," on the right, was retrieving a dead snipe, one of the pair he had marked better than us. We now had a dozen good shots, bagging nine snipe. We then went to the house for luncheon and some home-brewed ale; then takings a segar, we rested ourselves until three o'clock. I then chained up " Shot " and '•* Czar.'' Calling " Don " to heel, we started with " Dash " and " Busy." These'- small cockers Avere handsome — but are not the kind I would recommend to the young Southern sportsmen. RESULT OF A DAY'S SPORT. 57 The dog best adapted for their use is the Sussex spaniel. I have seen them in my native toAvn of Lewes, England, as large as a small setter, with ears from six to eight inches long. Such dogs would be of immense value in cover hunting. Here I would make a mark : As we crossed the field, Frank found a quail in his outside pocket (he had forgotten to search), and placing the butt of his gun on the ground, he held the bird uj) for me to see, and while he was so doing " Dash" jumped up to get the bird, and as his foot came do^wn, it caught the cock of Frank's gun ; and as the hammer was down on the cap (instead of being at half-cock)^ another explosion occurred, — taking fortunately nothing but Frank's hat brim; but had his hand been on the muzzle, one of the best shots in the United States would have been minus a finger or two. I now sent " Dash " back to the house with the dead Quail. He soon returned, and we then went on to- wards the cornfield, which was a wet one, and telling Frank to get on a stump in the middle, I hicd-on the spaniels. As they went barking around, the cock flut- tered up and down in all directions, and as Frank shot and loaded as quick as he could, *' Dash " retrieved me seventeen good autumn cock, in less than two hours. As Frank had marked a few birds down off by a piece of sprouts, I coupled up "Dash " and " Busy," and then got some nice points with " Don." Bagging a few birds, we crossed a stubble and found a bevy of quail, which finish- ed our day's sport. On counting our game, we figured thirty-seven quail, six ruffed grouse, twenty-one woodcock, and ten snipe, which I think, in the North, a good day for three barrels and no marker. Frank, in his letters, when speaking of his " Don," " Ozar," and " Shot," concludes with " Guns Up V ■ 3* 58 DOG AND GUN. The reader will not fail to note in the following how terribly severe was the training required to subdue a high- spirited dog — unsubdued by previous early discipline and steady work : DOG DEALING, OR TAKING A LESSON. Some twenty years ago I was presented with a splen- did silver-and- white Pointer, of noted stock, in the south of England. Being young myself and my old dogs nearly worn out, I named him " Ponto," and if a dog was ever worshipped, I believe " Ponto" was my idol, and at three months old he would ''fetch " and "■ cJiargcy I be- lieve he was as well house-broke as a dog could be up to six months of age, when I thought I would commence shooting over him. I must here state that the stock of " Ponto " was once so fine that a fox hound was intro- duced, which gave the breed plenty of foot, and of that " Ponto " was a miracle. Well, I hunted " Ponto " nearly three months, and could do nothing with him when he came on game ; although he would point a winged bird in the house, &c. One day a friend who shot on an ad- joining estate, came to a spring where I was drinking, and offered me a very nice pair of broke dogs for " Ponto," I told him I could do nothing with him except show him in the house or yard. His answer was, that if he could break him, he would suit him, instead of paying a duty on two. I traded, and had by far the best of it, as I thought ; but judge of my surprise, when I received an invitation to shoot with my neighbor two weeks after- wards over " Ponto." I went with reluctance, as I ex- pected to be annoyed as of old, and even took my pair of dogs along. But Bill said " Ponto " would do all the work we would want, and so it proved — notwithstanding the wind (it being in November). We shot over " Ponto'' six hours,- -killing pheasant, partridge, and hares over " PONTO." 59 points, — Bill not speaking a harsh word to the dog all day. The dog retrieved, after pointing dead in every in- stance ; and before the day was out, I offered ten guineas and the pair of dogs back, but I never was the owner of *' Ponto " again. After dinner Bill gave me his method of fixing " Ponto," by stating that he got the dog fond of him, and on the fourth day put a large bag of shot round " Ponto's" neck, and then mounting his horse rode the distance of forty miles — the dog ranging where ho chose. The next day the same dose ; and as soon as he got home, took some dinner, and put a long cord on- " Ponto," the shot remaining around him besides. At three o'clock " Ponto " was going over a stubble flushing the remnant of three coveys of Partridge. Bill then took him to where he had marked the birds, and by continually placing his foot on the cord compelled him to stop with- out speaking to him. He continued this until the dusk of evening, when he and "Ponto" went home well- pleased with each other, and both tired out. Early next morning Bill took his gun and commenced hunting in earnest, with " Ponto " fixed as before, and, after paying particular attention to "Ponto," succeeded in killing six partridges over points. He now hunted him four days longer with the cord, and then hunted him loose as I had done, and the result can be seen from my day's hunt with him. Bill was offered long sums for " Ponto," but said as he could do a week's work as well as a brace, he was what he wanted. Since then I have handled nearly five hundred dogs, and have never seen " Ponto's " equal. I am satisfied that it was my fault .and not " Ponto's," as I commenced letting him ''■fetch " in the field, before I taught him in the field to ^'point''^ game, and I never gave him — he being so high-strung — sufiicient work, and was too anxious to bag game. CHAPTER YIII. ON THE SHOOTINa OF QUAIL. Before introducing a portion of a chapter of Forester* s Field Sports, I propose to offer some remarks of my own, in regard to the shooting of quail. Hereafter I shall give the experience of a friend of mine who has given a lauda- ble attention to the hahits of the bird and the mode of hunting him. Perhaps I shall have no better opportunity than just in this connection, to express the contempt with which every well-bred man must view the practice of taking quail in nets. It is a practice which obtains quite extensively in this region, and which will continue while gentlemen sportsmen treat those who are guilty of it as anything else than pot-hunting vagabonds. I do not mean that all who in- dulge in the villainous practice are worthless characters — though a majority of them are — but that the thing itself is so vile an outrage upon all sportsmanship, humanity, and magnanimity, that no man who knows better ought to coun- tenance his best neighbor if he will not discontinue it. We have now in Eastern Alabama a great abundance of quail, except in certain netting localities. Where they are taken in that way, the bird is absolutely swept away, in particular neighborhoods. I have known a thousand birds captured within a week, by two or three parties using these infernal machines during a cold, sleety spell of weather, when the quail is always loth to take wing. Another mode by which the quail is decimated, at least, WITHHOLDING THE SCENT. 61 is by traps. These are set mostly by boys and negroes, in plantation enclosures. Two or three active sportsmen, however, will generally keep trapping down, by kicking the little pens to pieces wherever they find them; and they are almost certain to come upon every one within the range of their shooting. Those who take an interest in the preservation of game hirds, ought by all means to prevent their servants from trapping the bevies which feed on their plantations. There are a good many yet who are disbelierers as to the faculty of withholding its scent, which most sportsmen attribute to the quail. The fact is of such frequent occur- rence, that I should despair of making a fair sportsman of any one who had never noted it for himself. A majority of bevies will resort to this means of self-preservation the second time they have been badly worried by the sports- man. I have observed that the full bevy attacked for the first time rarely does so. When it is discovered that birds are withholding the scent — that is, when, after having accurately marked them, your dog fails to point upon coming where you know they settled — the best plan is to go off and sit down for half an hour. Rest your dog and yourself. By the time you have accomplished this, if you will return to where the birds settled, depend upon it, your dog will begin to come down handsomely. I have tried this time and again, and I do not remember that it ever failed. In regard to running levies, there is one point as to which I differ with Forester. He recommends, when the bird is disposed to act thus, an attempt, by taking a circuit, to come around on the opposite side, which is likely to make the birds stop and huddle. This it undoubtedly generally does do ; but in this country, if you attempt to cut off the bevy from its covert in the branch swamp or the blackberr}^ briar patch, it will lie until you kick it up 62 DOG AND GUX. almost, and then wliizz under your very nose in tlie origi- nal direction. I kno^v no more awkward shots than those thus obtained. I prefer following the birds, with tlie pre- cautions mentioned by Forester, (checking the dog with stcndy ! steady! tolio ! ) When they reach the grass at the edge of the swamp, or the old fence near by, ten to one they will lie. You put them up, and take the chances for snap shots as they pitch into the covert. I have had a pretty good experience in heading off bevies, and my de- liberate opinion is that it will not pay. The morning — early morning — is much the best time for shooting quail. The heavier the dew, or frost, the better. It has two advantages : the birds lie better, and the scent is much stronger. The dry sedge fields (that is, fields turned out to rest, and grown up with tall sedge grass,) afford the finest sport. The birds, however, seldom frequent these to any great extent until the peas of the cornfield are exhausted. While these remain, the quail lies close by in his covert, and a very short time, morning and evening, suffices to fill his craw with his favorite grain. However, if you can find sedge surrounding a stubble field, lately in oats or wheat, you may expect great sport early in the season. In shooting quail, most persons fire too soon, and in their ardor fail to hit. The truth is, if two birds are simultaneously flushed and fly off in different directions, there is just about time enough for a fair shot, of good nerves, to kill both, cleverly within range. Your first bird may be taken down at twenty to twenty-five yards ; your second, at thirty to forty-five. But the tyro will bang away as soon as the birds get up ; and it takes some time to show the green hand the absurdity of shooting without aim, through the just -risen bevy, expecting to kill a dozen, more or less. It is seldom that more than one is thus got, and it is generally mangled, because the " STEADY I STEADY ! TO HO ! " 63 shot have not had time and distance enough to disperse properly. I was always the awkwardest of hands to shoot at bevies, and, finding this to be the case, for con- venience sake endeavor always to take doAvn the extreme bird on the right and on the left. This prevents, to some extent, the confusion that besets me inveterately when I keep my eyes on the centre of the whirring crowd. Marking birds accurately is very difficult. It can only be acquired by experience. Green hands are invariably deceived. Fortster gives as a n^le (and it is a good one), never to believe a bird settled no matter how low he may have been scudding, at a particular point, unless you have, seen a flap of his wings. He is down then, swe ! I give now an extract from Forester : " I have found it impossible to get up early enough to do execution from any country tavern, if one waits until a hot breakfast is prepared. My method, therefore, is to take with me a cold ham, or a cold hunter's round, and to have the table laid over night, in addition to that, with bread, butter, and cold milk, on which, for my part, I can breakfast very satisfactorily. " This done, if you know the country, go to the place where are the most and likeliest grain stubbles lying near to good woodland or coppice covert, and beat them regu- larly, in such a manner that the woods shall be down- wind of your beat. Let your dogs, however, beat every field up-Avind, by which means they will scent their birds one-third farther than if you go down-wind. " Look especially to the sides of the field, particularly if they are bushy ; quail do not affect the middle even of the stubbles on which they feed. '* If your dogs trail a running bevy, never run or hurry them. They are, if you do so, nearly sure to flush them wild. Be, on the contrary, very steady yourself, and cry "Steady! steady! toho!" words to which dogs should 64 DOG AND GUN. be accustomed early. If they point firmly, and are so very staunch that you can depend on them, it is not a bad plan to make a wide circuit, and get ahead of the bevy, which even if wild and running, will often Sjq^uat on finding itself enclosed between the dog and the gun, and thus afford good shooting. '' If you drive a bevy of Quail into good covert, be not in haste to follow it. It will stay there, be sure ; and you will find them far more certainly after half an hour has elapsed. For myself, I have found it the best plan, where woods are small, and the covert thick, to go on beating the open fields, without following the bevies at all, in the first instance, marking them down carefully when they rise, until the feeding and running hour has passed, — then to follow bevy after bevy, whither you have seen them alight; and knowing their whereabout, if not the exact spot where they lie, the dogs will soon find them, " Otherwise, if one wastes the morning in killing off one bevy, by the time he has done with it, the birds will have crept away into their hiding-places, and he may hunt the wood-skirts and brush-holes all day along, without finding another, even where they abound, unless he blunder upon one by chance. " During the heat of the day, if one have not found birds in the morning, although it is pretty much chance work, bog meadows, brown bushes on southerly and westerly hill-sides, old pastures with much bent and rag- wort, and the skirts of coppices, are generally the best ground, though in some regions they will be found in Jarge open woodlands. " In the afternoon, soon after four o'clock, the bevies again begin to run and feed, and in this part of the day they will frequently be met running along the grassy margins of streams which flow through pasture-fields, GENERAL ADVICE. 65 whither they resort to drink, or at least to crop the wet herbage. *' So good is the chance of sport at this time, that I would urge it strongly on the sportsman who has failed of finding his bevies on the feeding ground in the morn- ing — if he know that there is a fair show of birds in the district — not to persist in wearing out himself and his dogs, by fruitless toil in the heat of noon, but rather to await the cool afternoon, when he will very often make up for lost time, and make a heavy bag when circum- stances looked least auspiciously. " I have now set my sportsman fairly in the field, and shown him how best he may find his birds, — more is be- yond my means. **A crack shot must in some sort be born; but most persons with good eyesight, and steady nerves, may attain to respectability, if not excellence, in this gentle- manlike and meanly art. " To this end, practice and coolness are the great de- siderata. Rules, I think, avail little, if anything. I have seen men shoot excellently who closed one eye to take aim — excellently who shot with both open, — never, however, I must admit, decently, who shut both — not, by the way, a very uncommon occurrence with beginners. I have seen men again shoot excellently, carrying their guns at full cock — excellently, who never cocked either barrel till in the act of firing. " There is, however, one thing to be observed, — no man can shoot well in covert, or at snap shots, who follows his bird with his gun, or dwells on his aim — the first sight is always the best ; and it is deliberate promptitude in catching this first sight which alone constitutes — what my poor friend, J. Cypress, Junior, used to call the rarest work of nature — n. truly cool, truly quick, crack shotJ^ CHAPTEE IX. DUCK SHOOTING— THK MALLAKD. 1 Of all tlie shooting that I know anything of, in this section, duck shooting, in favorable localities, affords by all odds the finest sport. The mallard, especially! is a game bird of the first order. He is strong and swift of pinion, and, when once alarmed, difficult of approach. Few birds carry off shot better than he ; and the gun and the gunner that take him down, regularly and certainly whenever he gets up, within range, need both to be a lit- tle better than " middling." At the first of the season, perhaps, this duck will show himself quite unwary, and may be killed with ease in any of the ponds he frequents. But shoot about his resort a few times, and you will then have to deal with one of the most watchful and cunning rascals in the world. It will not happen once in an hun- dred times that you will see him as soon as he sees you. His keen vision descries you two or three hundred yards up the creek, as you Crawl stealthily along, and if ever once before frightened by man, he will take wing on the instant. His sense of hearing is most wonderfully acute : break but a twig, however small, and at once he is upon his guard ! The mallard is common to all waters of the South. After the *' first cold spell in November," our rivers and many of our creeks contain hundreds of the species. With them we most commonly find the beautiful wood duck, commonly known as the striped head. In the wa- ters of the Alabama, very early or very late in the season, (66) WHERE AND HOW TO SHOOT. 67 a great many green or hlue-winged teal accompany the mallard in his visits ; the former appearing in the fall, the latter in the spring. Most of oiir shooting in the interior is done on the nu- merous creeks into which the ducks go in large numbers from the rivers. Very cold weather, when high winds prevail, is sure to drive up thousands of them to the Let- ter-protected waters of the smaller streams. At first, as I have hinted above, they are apt to be anything but wild ; first-rate opportunities are plentiful to get shots at large flocks — but presently they change their tactics en- tirely, and if they continue numerous, must be approached in the most artistic manner to get shots at all. As a gen- eral rule, however, on the streams they frequent they usually have favorite spots for feeding or disporting them- selves, to which they quite regularly resort. It is impor- tant, then, to the hunter, to acquaint himself with these localities, and to mark their approaclics accurately. For instance, here is quite a deep hole of eddy water just at this bend of the creek. At its lower end, a log crosses the stream, and on it the ducks frequently may be seen stand- ing in a long row. There is but one — -just one — way in which the hunter can escape their observant eyes. Before he has got within two hundred yards of his game, (as he goes down the creek,) he must take a circuit out from the stream — out far enough to prevent the possibility of his being seen. When arrived at a point exactly opposite the eddy water, he takes a *' bee line" for it — taking care only to avoid noise ; for the high bank on the side of the creek he is on, shuts him out from the view of the ducks completely. He is thus able, by careful threading of his way, to creep up on the unsuspecting flock, and put one barrel in on the water, and the other as they rise. Had he omitted the detour, he would almost inevitably have been brought by the winding of the creek into some posi- 68 DOG A\D (\\:S^ tion whence he could be seen by the ducks, and would have obtained no shot. It is of the first consequence, then, in duck-shooting on creeks, to Imoio your ground ac- curately. If you have a companion, too, v/ho is also well informed as to the haunts of the birds, it is all the better. It is usual with dacks, disturbed on streams such as we indicate, to fly only one, two, or three hundred yards, from one favorite spot to another. This enables two per- sons to hunt them to great advantage. Thus A and B are points on the stream at which the ducks feed. You and your friend are hunting down the creek. You, be- fore getting within ear-shot of A, make such a detour as I have described above, and by means of it approach B, within clear shot of which you lie perdu, awaiting the operations of your friend at A, which is, say, a couple of hundred yards above you. He steals upon the ducks at A, fires upon and rousts them, and they incontinently direct their flight down to B, where you await them. In the act of settling on the water, you give them one bar- rel, and as they rise in thick confusion, with a terrible flapping and quacking, you put in your second barrel with terrible effect. Your friend then slips around to the distant point D, and conceals himself, Avhiie you roust them from the intermediate point C, and drive them down to him. In this way two men will generally kill a great many ducks, if they are patient, light of foot, and know the ground accurately The last is the main point. Shooting on the rivers is generally done by two parties, in as many canoes; whereof one keeps under the willows of one bank, and the other of the other Vjank. It is usu- al, I believe, to have two gunners — one in the bow and the other in the middle of the boat — and a paddle in each boat. Each canoe hugging the shore, (near which the ducks are generally found,) and proceeding pari pa^sw, the ducks often afford shots to both parties. THE "how" continued. 69 Geperally in these hunts, tents, etc., are taken along, and the hunters, going slowly and carefully along through the day, make it convenient to get out with their lug- gage, late in the afternoon, near some roosting j^onds. Some of the party arrange the camp on the river hank, while others go to the ponds to shoot the ducks as they come into roost. There is no finer sport than this. How- ever, like most good things, it does not last very long. The ducks come in between sundown and dark, and the more they have been shot at, the later they make it in going to roost. Other things being equal, it is much bet- ter.for the sportsman to stand so as to face the west. The lingering ra^'s, (the ducks being between him and the de- parted sun,) assist a great deal. If it is a good pond, and the hunter is full early at it, most probably as he is going ofiF into a fit of abstraction, he is roused by a distant plaintive whistle — the note of the wood duck — and the next thing is a sharp whizzing overhead, and then a sud- den plump of perhaps a dozen striped heads into the dark placid waters before him. Presently a far-off quack is heard, and in a moment a flock of mallard whizz by him. Crack! crack ! at this end of the willowy pond ; and as they rush on with cleaving wing, crack ! crack ! at the other end. These are the advance parties. Directly they come in thick and fast. Wood duck on this hand, maallard on that ! Whistle and quack are heard on all sides ; from all quarters they burst in — the air is thick with them, and the water in a continual splash. But it is growing darker every minute. There, opposite you, is an open space be- tween the thick branches of the swamp trees. Keep your gaze on that — every now and then it is darkened with the rushing crowd. Pitch it into them, coolly. Load and reload calmly but quickly ; and when it is too dark at length to shoot, why, perforce, you must desist. Your dog, if you have one, must be kept at work retrieving. 70 DOG AND GUN. It is of no use to go to one of the ponds " in the morn- ing" to recover your ducke. The minks will have left you nothing but a few feathers. Immense numbers are killed in this way, by experienced hunters. Like every other thing, however, simple as it seems, a little experience is necessary to give one ** the hang." The excitement to a beginner is very apt to be overwhelming. The ducks come in with a flight so rapid — from this side and that — the ring of their pinions and their cries make so mingled a din — their numbers are often so great — that the tyro cannot but be confused. This will soon wear off, though, and then the man who loveth our art is " in clover." With his rough retriever — half bull terrier and half setter, or perhaps with the blood of these and a dash of Newfoundland to give him more weight bone and endurance — he knows that so soon as the shooting is over, he can recover all his game from among the willows and flags of the pond. So he blazes away while Don re- mains quiet, half hid by an old log, with only his head half raised, and his eyes gleaming, as he recognises the sound of the wings of the approaching squadrons. He knows full well that his time will come directly. CHAPTEE X. A WOODCOCK STORY-QUAIL. It is rare in this region that we have a chance at Snipe and Woodcock ; notwithstanding, season before last, myself and sporting friends managed to kill eighteen or twenty Woodcock (speaking of Woodcock, thereby hangs a tale), and quite a number of Snipe. Notwith- standing Snipe will sometimes afford fine sport, even in this region, I would advise you by all means to keep your pupil from their baleful injiucnce. I never knew a young Pointer to hunt them Avithout its doing him great harm. They will rarely lie well to the dog, consequently he soon becomes unsteady. None save an old and staunch dog should go after Snipe. Such has been my experi- ence, as well as that of my sporting friends. Speaking of Woodcock above, I mentioned that there- by hangs a tale. I must give it to you : You must know T have a female friend who is decidedly fast for her age. She is perfectly au fait upon anything appertaining to literature, music, science, and the table. She is decidedly epicurean in her tastes, and while suffering from the demon Dyspepsia, often has been the time I have been bene- fited by her nice things, &c. (God bless her! may her shadow never grow less !) You must know that a few months agone she paid a visit to the city of Gotham, where her epicurean taste was delighted with the game of the season. Woodcock among the rest. Frequent, earnest, and spicy were her dissertations upon the game birds of the North — Woodcock in particular. Well, (71) 72 . DOG AND GU\. while out one evening with dog and gun, an unhicky bird, with a large black body and v(irij red head chanced to pass within range of my gun. I fired, and redhead, vulgarly called Woodcock, was brought down. I pro- posed to my sporting friend that we should try and pass it upon Miss as the Simon-pure game bird. He acceding, when we returned,. I hastened with a gleeful countenance to lay my prize before my fair friend, telling her that I had just killed a great favorite of hers— a Woodcock — and that she should prepare it for herself alone. She hearing its name — Woodcock! — (Oh, ye!) Avas perfectly delighted. Some one near, not so epicurean in taste, cried out, " Miss , you are not going to eat that are you?" "Isn't it Woodcock 1" ''Yes — but I wouldn't eat that thingT " Oh, you don't know what is good ; it is a regular game bird — highly prized in New York." Well, the upshot of the matter is this : the joke was carried farther than I intended. I purposed to have it nicely cooked, as only she could have it done, and have it brought upon the table, and then I would make an exposure. But it so happened that I was compelled to go into the coun- tr}^ that night, and did not get back until 10 o'clock next day. I had forgotten all about the joke, but when I saw Miss 's countenance it recalled tlie idea I had of Tarn O'Shanter's wife when she was "nursing her wrath to keep it warm." And didn't I catch it, hot and cold ? " To treat me so had,''' " I couldn't believe it of you." I asked an explanation " That Woodcock ! too bad, ugh ! — oop-oo-oop, arr-e ! — too bad." And when she looked up so thought I. The cream of the joke I missed by being absent from breakfast. She, Avith a sparing hand, proffered to help those at table. Only one Avould partake, and she couldn't swallow it. The epicurean lady ate it Yv'ith a decided gusto ; — rich, rare and spicy were QUAIL PHYSIOLOGY. 73 her plaudits of the game bird, the peculiar game flavor, &c. But enough ; the joke was really carried farther than I intended, and I am sorry for it, as my fair friend cannot bear a game bird to this day. Friend H., you requested me to give you my views in relation to the power of Quail to withhold scent. With myself for a long time it has been a fixed fact, as also with most of our amateur sportsmen, I see the fact mentioned by Herbert, Skinner, Lewis, et al. Each one speaks of it as being a voluntary act of the bird; and if not voluntary, tliat they are aware of their possessing the power. I believe neither : I look upon the fact not as instinct, nor anything out of the common laws of nature. I account for it altogether by supposing that excessive terror has checked the usual secretions or effluvia that, in a state of quietude, is given out by the bird, by which the dog is enabled to scent them. If you look in Carpenter^s Human Physiology, you will find that sudden and exces- sive terror will immediately check the lacteal secretion, and this is not the only secretion that is checked by fright. Every one has heard of fright producing gray liairs. They say that they are conscious of the power or property, or they would not lie so close— allowing you almost to set foot upon them before moving. I think it is )wing to their excessive fright. Terror in the first place checks their secretions, and in the next prevents flight, as they feel as secure in one place as another. See how readily fright will confound the fawn, the hare, and other tj.mid animals, and some birds. I have even heard of birds being checked in their flight by the yelling of a large number of persons, underneath them ; — the birds would drop almost as if shot. Every schoolboy is familiar with the practice of surrounding the hare and then setting ap an unearthly yelling ; — the hare in most instances will become so confounded that it may be picked up by hand. 4 74 DOG AND GUN. It is the same fright that keeps the Quail under cover, although hunter and dog may be very near. It may be possessed not only by one bird, but a whole bevy may possess the power or property. I will mention an instance : I had spotted several bevies near our village. With one I always had great difficulty — scarcely ever obtaining more than one or two shots. When I would flush the bevy, the birds would rise wildly and fly to all points of the compass. Their motto seemed to be, " Every one for himself, and the devil take the hindmost." I have never before or since seen so wild a bevy. Even when I had closely marked a single bird, I rarely obtained a shot. At the time to which I allude, my dog pointed them at their usual haunt, and to my utter surprise they rose well together, and settled in a beautiful cover for sport, at a short distance. My friend and myself marked them well and closely. Not knowing the Quail as I now do, we immediately pushed after them, anticipating fine sport. We beat the ground again and again — circled the spot to see if they had left — we made our dog hunt very closely, but not a feather could we raise. My dog did not evince by his action that a single bird v^as near. We beat around the spot at least half an hour, wondering what could the matter be, and rather disposed to blame the dog. (And by-the-by, friend H., let me whisper this fact — there is not a better nose in Alabama, for Quail, than Roscoe's.) Thinking that we or the dog (one) must be mis- led, we were about giving them up, when one rose directly under me, and then whirr, whirr, they went all around us — the dog in the very midst, and he did not point ! How can it be accounted for, unless the secretions were checked by fright % To prove my views I will mention another case, wherein the same effect was produced by a fright from the hawk. Some sporting friends of mine were ap- proaching a field when they saw a hawk soaring with a EFFECTS OF FEAR ON THE QUAIL. 75 Quail in its talons. They leisurely pursued their way through the field, where they were induced to rest a few moments — the dogs at the time at their heels. After resting for a short time, they were startled by the uprising of a bevy all around them and in their very midst. Now the effect of withholding scent was undoubtedly produced by the depredation of the hawk; it was of course not pro- duced by the sportsmen and dogs, as they had not been flushed. If it was a voluntary act on their part it was altogether superfluous to hold it from the hawk, who ob- tains his prey alone by sight. When physiology tells us that fear will in many instances, even with human beings, check secretions, it is not difficult on my part to believe the same cause will produce similar effects upon the Quail. CHAPTEK XI. PARTRIDaE SHOOTINQ. I AM greatly indebted to my friend, Samuel Swan, edi- tor of the Southern Military Gazette, for the use of the following spirited sporting articles, from the pen of the accomplished and versatile author of " Field Sports^ Mr. Herbert's descriptions have never been excelled ; no living literary artist equals him, in my opinion, in that sort of limning which is accomplished by a few dashing strokes. In " My First Day's Partridge Shooting," and ** The Yorkshire Moors," he is fully himself. They were never in print before, having been written for Mr. Swan's Gazette, just as that periodical was discontinued by its proprietor in consequence of the large increase of his busi- ness, leaving him no leisure to attend to it. I present first : MY FIRST day's PARTRIDGE SHOOTING. At last I was eighteen years old. I had been in the sixth form at Eton more than six months ; had been promoted from round jackets to long-tailed blue coats, the height and front of the Etonian's ambition ; from a pony to a fifteen-hand thoroughbred hack — which I believed to be the best hunter in the island — and from my seat at my sister's governess's table to a knife and fork in the dining room ; and now I was to be promoted from shooting rab- bits, snipe, wild fowl, larks, and such other animals of the half-game order, to the dignity of a game certificate and a license to kill game in my own right throughout Eng- land. (T6) DIPLOMA DISAPPOINTMENTS. 77 I was already more than a fair shot, for it had been agreed between myself and the governor that I should be entitled to claim a game certificate so soon as I could kill nine out of the first twelve skylarks that should get up before me — the sky-lark when he does not rise to sing flying low, very swiftly, close to the ground, by no means unlike a snipe, and quite as difficult to kill. This feat I had accomplished some three weeks before the first ; my certificate was bought ; my first shooting jacket built ; my gun cleaned for the tenth time within the last two days ; my shot-pouch and powder horn filled ; and I, filled full from head to foot with anticipation of dis- tinguishing myself before the e^es of the governor, went to bed, but not to sleep, on the night of the thirty-first of August. I was awake and on foot at day -break, and it seem- ed hours, nay years to me, before my father made his appearance, rigged- for the field, at about eight o'clock. "Well, to the field we went, in the home farm, and within five hundred yards of the house ; in a fine turnip field, knee deep among the broad green leaves, the dogs came to a point. I had made some trivial wager with the governor that I would bag my first bird, a dog-whip or whistle, or some such trifle ; but my heart was as much set to win as if a million had been at stake. Three young birds rose, two crossed the governor to the right, and both fell to his two barrels killed clean. My bird fell, likewise, but he was wing-tipped only, ran and was not retrieved. I had lost my wager, ^nd my heart was heavy — the governor chaffed me and laughed at me — I grew nervous — got out of sorts — blazed right and left at everything. I carried both barrels at full cock then; everybody did so in those days — missing it before it got five yards away — was quizzed and laughed at more and more, and came 78 DOG AND GUN. within an ace of being destroyed and rendered worthless as a shot forever. Suddenly, in a desperate situation, I took a desperate resolve : I would never again, while I lived, cock a gun till the bird was on the wing at which I was about to fire. No sooner said than done. I let my gun down to the half- cock and proceeded. The next ten birds that rose I put up my gun to my shoulder without cocking it — pulled — no fire came, and I got quizzed more and more, and, at last, actually scolded, as if I were holding back my fire purposely, because I could not get what I considered a true aim. Then I was lectured on the beauties of a first sights and on the inutility of picking after my birds and on the danger of becoming a pottering shot ; all of which I knew, every iota, as well as my monitor. But not a word deigned I in reply, either in defence or in explanation. At last I got the hang of it. I cocked my gun as I raised it, discharged it as the butt struck my shoulder, and of course killed my bird. ^ killed thirteen birds, one after the other, in unbroken succession, four of them double shots. Then I missed one bird, killing its mate with my second barrel, and five more in succession ; then two misses and eight kills, each after each. At nightfall I had bagged twenty-seven birds out of twenty-nine shots, after missing some nineteen or twenty shots without a single kill in the morning. I have never done much better since. That morning made me all that I claim to be at this moment, a deliberately prompt shot. But you had better believe, gentle reader, that from that day forth, to this, I have never cocked my gun till I have seen my game fairly on wing or afoot ; and yet more, till I have let it go, as far as I intend that it shall go at all; and I find that I can kill as many snap shots as most men. Let those who will, carry their guns cocked. J PROMOTED TO THE MOORS. 79 say let ihevi — so that they don't cany their hammers down on the nipples — it is all one to ine. If they do so, they don't shoot in my company nohow ; but for my own use, give me the gun at half-cock and deliberate promj^ti- tude ! THE YORKSHIRE MOORS. It is now well nigh thirty years since my first day on the Yorkshire moorlands. I was then some eighteen years of age, and in the sixth form at Eton. In the preceding autumn I had been promoted for the first time to a game certificate, and had waged war on the gray partridge, perdia cinerea, with such success as to kill my fifteen brace in one day's shooting, and to gain the repute of be- ing a most promising young shot ; for be it known I had practised first on hedge-sparrows, field-fares, skylarks and swallows, and afterward on English snipe, water fowl and moor hen, which are not included in the category of game or prohibited to the landless and unlicensed gunner, until I had acquired the trick of bringing my stock to my shoulder, my barrel on a level to the eye, and drawing my trigger-finger with a single motion, and that without either winking at the flash or shrinking from the recoil. In short, I was in a fair way to be as good as I was a keen shot, when few Eaton boys had a soul above a crick- et-ball or a boat race. But the moors ! the moors ! the glorious twelfth of August ! Hoc erat in votis ! This it was which was to constitute me a hona fide sportsman ; to make me the pride and envy of my classmates — my classmates ! nay, but of the country gentlemen, the crack shots, the brag artists of the south country preserves, to whom a well- stocked turnip-field or well-filled pheasant covert, was the noblest scene of their exploits with the gun. How eager were my days, how sleepless my nights, 80 ' DOG AND GUN. as tliat day of days approached, which was in my own esteem to raise me to the level of a Caesar ! and when the missive was despatched to ask permission of the eccentric but kind-hearted mistress of Fontague's abbaye and unnumbered acres of " heath and whin and bare wild moor," how did my heart leap to the sound of the post- man's horn ! how did I strive to anticipate the future, and when the reply arrived in the affirmative, where was there to be found one so happy as I ? My gun cleaned and re-cleaned, locks taken apart and put together again, oiled and wiped dry and oiled again, till every one in the house was, or at least had good cause to be, utterly a-weary. And then my rig for the twelfth — methinks I can see it as it lay before me now, just from the hands of the most approved artist in St. James street — point device according to Gunter. The russet-purple shooting jacket of light velveteen, precisely the shade of the blooming heather ; the dun-colored tweed waistcoat and trousers, undistinguishable from the tints of the faded grass and ling ; the stout yet light and easy shoes ; the leather an- kle-gaiters ; the purple-cloth shooting cap, with a tuft of heather and withered fern in the band — all fashioned alike to excite the jealousy of the rival sportsman and to defy the most fastidious eye, while it should at the same time pass before the eyes of the vigilant and fearful moorcock without awakening his observation — that all spectators should exclaim, " Capital get up indeed !" " Devilish well made, and in good taste too ! not a bit overdone, like Aston's liveries there ! no one can say that for them !" At length the eve of the happy day arrived. The weather was in all respects propitious, and at daybreak on the eleventh we set forth, myself and the best and dearest of all earthly friends long since departed from this world of toil and trouble, in a light stanhope drawn DOGS THAT WERE DOGS. 81 by an active horse, encumbered by no luggage beyond our gun-cases and the changes of rahnent necessary for our trip. Old Harry Lee, tlie sturdy veteran game-keeper, who taught " my young idea how to shoot," and to accompany whom on his rounds I have risen a hundred times from my bed at daybreak or earlier, when the sun rises at three in the morning, had set out two days previously, leading a stout Shetland poney laden with panniers, and taking with him four brace of as staunch and swift and beau- tiful dogs as ever dropped to shot, or stood staunch and still as death over a running bevy. There were Cynthia and Phebe, a pair of orange and white silky Irish setters, with large soft eyes and coal-black muzzles, feathered six inches deep on the legs and stern — Pierrot and Jason, two liver and white pointers, the former so lively a game- flnder that the best shot with Avhom I ever pulled a trig- ger was used to say that he " half believed Pierrot could make his own game whenever he was at a loss" — Charon and Pluto, a brace of black and white Russians, fleeced like Arctic bears, and with such a fell of matted wool hang- ing over their short bullet heads and grim faces, and almost quenching the light of their quick keen fiery eyes, that it was difficult to conceive how they could see daylight. They were the best retrievers I have ever yet shot over ; the staunchest, keenest, most indefatigable and indestructible of dogs. Charon was for years my own especial dog ; him I was allowed to take out of the kennel alone without a keeper to accompany me, Avhen I was, or was supposed to be, too young, too ignorant, and too impetuous to be trusted with any dog that could be damaged. " Even Frank," it used to be said, " could not spoil Charon !" and I believe theD — 1 himself could not, had he tried it. He had been imperfectly broke, and if birds were killed, 82 DOG AND GUN. he would run in and fetch them ; but even in his un- steadiness he was so staunch, and so unerring was his saga- city and instinct, that if a fresh bird la}^ in his route as he dashed in to fetch that which had fallen, he would inva- riably point it dead. I never knew him flush a single bird in his most impetuous rushes. If a covey was missed clean, he would drop sulkily to charge ; but he would invariably look round and stare in your face with a sort of sullen grunt, as who should say, " What do you mean by such work as that f If you mi.^sed three times in succession, menace and coaxing were alike unavailing. Home went Charon, and for that day was no more seen. More extraordinary yet, he could distinguish by the eye when a hare Mas wounded, when no man living would have suspected that the animal was hit ; and whereas if one went away cleanly missed he would charge like a rock ; the instant he perceived, how I cannot imagine, that it was carrying away a load, he would chase like a devil. But, as in the other instance, I never saw him chase a hare that he did not bring it home ; and he could no more have run down a fresh one with a twenty yards start, than I could run down an elk on an open prairie. The fourth brace were a pair of coal-black setters, Death and Dream, beautiful as night which they most re- sembled, without one white speck on their lustrous coats, perfectly broken, tractable as lambs, fleet as deer, yet full of fire and spirit, fearless and tireless, and less fleet only than the wind. Such Avas the governor's kennel ; and even as I never yet have seen such a shot or sportsman as he was, so never have I seen nor shall I see, so far as I expect, such a kennel of dogs, whether for staunchness, certainty, speed, or beauty. All day long we travelled through scenes of the rarest beauty, by the castled crags of Knaresborough, frowning PLEASANT ROAD Ax\D FARE. 83 over the bright dark waters of the Nid, up the lovely vale of which lay our course to the moorlands — by the old forta- lice of E-ipley, where the lady Ingolby of that day re- ceived CromAvell, when he visited her at the head of his ironsides, with pistols stuck in her apron strin g — by Hamps- thwaite's rural homes, by Dacre pasture and the oak woods of Darley, across Pately bridge and up the brawling Nid unto the spot where Ram's ghyll pours his tributary tor- rent into the wider stream. Here, after a homely supper, rashers of bacon, new- laid eggs, short bread and home-brewed ale, to which fa- tigue had earned us eager appetites, we turned into the coarse clean sheets redolent of the bloomy heather on which they had been bleached, and lulled by the ceaseless brawling of the mountain brook which foamed down its gorge close beneath the window, I, for one, sank asleep so soon as my head touched the pillow, and dreamed of moor- cocks until a light flashed before my eyes, a hand was laid heavily upon my shoulder, and the old game-keeper's voice aroused me from my soft slumber. It was past three o'clock, and breakfast was ready in the parlor. The sun would be up before we could reach the moor, and the morning promised to be a fine one. I was on my feet in an instant, and my first day on the Yorkshire moors had begun — he who will, shall hereafter learn how it ended. THE YORKSHIRE MOORS — CONCLUDED. At length the long-wished-for moment had arrived. The breakfast was duly honored, the panniers packed with lunch- eon, to return as we hoped, packed with moor-fowl, and slung on the Shetland pony, were despatched, together with two brace of dogs, the bitches Cynthia and Phebe, for the morning's work, and the Russians for the afternoon, 84 DOG Ai\D GUi\. under the care of the guide, to meet ns on the verge of the moors. It was not yet light when we started from the door of the little Inn, to scale the four miles of steep and continu- ous ascent, Avhich led by a road liker far to the gulley of a mountain torrent, than to au}^ path made by the hands of man, from the level of the beautiful bright river to the summit of the misty plateau which forms the base of the moors, the loftier hills rising above it in huge, rounded or square-topped masses, divided from each other, sometimes by wide plains of the richest heather, sometimes by mossy bogs, whence steal the rills which, gradually swelling into burns, as the larger brooks are termed, pour down through the ghylls or gorges which they cut for themselves through the peat, the gravel, nay ! even through the solid sand- stone, and become the feeding tributaries of the lovely rivers of the West Riding The first pale streaks of dawn stole up the east as we ascended, the clouds, few, fleecy, and far between, hung lightly here and there in the pure dark sky, from which all the stars had faded except Venus, who still showed her waning lamp near the horizon, for she was now the morn- ing star. As we reached the summit, where two dark, in- distinct shapes were awaiting us, of boy and pony, at the swing gate which gave access through the high dry stone wall, to the wild, bare moor, on which many of the smaller landholders of the ghylls and dales had right of pasturage for their black-faced sheep — in future the finest of mountain mutton — and black cattle in proportion to the number of acres in their respective holdings, though the lord or lady paramount of the manor only has the right of shooting, or deputizing persons to shoot over the range; the gray clouds changed their tints to amber, to rosy-red, to crimson, to flaming liquid gold, as the east gradually flushed bright- er and brighter, until at length the great sun rushed up PANORAMA OF THE MOORS. 86 like an orb of burnished gold, through the thin mist on the mountain heads, and, in an instant it was perfect day. What a scene, what a panorama was there ; — beneath and behind us the long retiring valley of the Nid, winding away in a far perspective of hanghig woods, ri<;li emerald pastures, crofts bordered with their shadowy sycamores, and village roofs and humble chapels peeping out between, until lost in the blue mists of distance. Before us unnumbered leagues of barrenness and deso- lation, blue mountain beyond blue mountain, rolling away tii^ vast earth billows of that moorland sea, without a spot of culture, an oasis of fertility, to the borders of Scotland, fifty leagues distance to the north-westward. Around us knolls, hillocks, hummocks, hills, some round, some sugarloaf, some rock-ribbed and cr;;g-crested ; deep treacherous morasses tempting the foot of the unwary visitor by their exquisite smoothness, and the unrivalled richness of their emerald verdure ; deep, abrupt, broken gorges and ravines, with clear brooks brawling along their bottoms, but all pathless, seemingly untrodden of man, cursed, one would say, with irredeemable barrenness, and inhabited only by the few titlarks which faintly hailed the rising sun with hymns, scarcely audible amid those vast solitudes, and the snipes and curlews which rose now and then, screaming dissonantly, from the bogs and peat-holes, whence the turf had been cut for fuel, for we had not as yet reached the choicer portion of the moor, haunted alike by the blackfaced quadrupeds, and the red-grouse allured ever to the same vicinity by the same succulent food on which their excellence depends — the young sprouts of the tenderest short heather, springing fresh from places over which the fire has run in the latest autumn of the past year. Nevertheless, with all the desolation, there was a sort of peculiar wild beauty, arising for the most 8G I'U*^ A\D GU\. part from the singular and variegated hues of the surface ; where the young heather was in bloom the whole super- fices of hundreds and hundreds of acres was glowing with the most gorgeous hues of amythyst, garnet, and rubies ; where the dry stalks and sere leaves of the later and older growth prevailed, all was deep tawney russet ; where the fire had recently passed all was black as charred stumps and the very peat soil, scorched to the bottom, could make it — then again, there were patches of green furze with their golden blossoms, and tracts of dark green, rushy, rank grass, and gleams of the brightest emerald around the well- heads, and over all the treacherous morasses. But now Ave had reached our opening ground, the boy with the pony and the second brace of dogs was ordered to the rear, with instructions to meet us by the side of a certain gray rock, and spring-head, on the northern edge of Kettletang, a huge, jjl^^ff-headed hill, overtopping all his neighbors, at noon, when we should be there to refresh the inner man, and take up the fresh dogs for the af- ternoon. This arranged, to work we went. The ground was along swell of gentle hillocks, facing the morning and sun, and sloping gently down to the south-eastward. It was cover- ed with short purple heather, in full bloom, with here and there a patch of soft, green grass, and now and then a well-head, with a small silvery runnel oozing from it, and showing by the greener and lighter hues of the ling and grass around its course, how vivifying and beneficial were its influences. ' It was precisely one of those ranges which the young broods love in the early morning, at the beginning of the season, and, in fact, the fleet bitches had not ranged five hundred yards, which they did at full speed, heads up and sterns down, crossing each other at every five hundred yards distance, turning unbidden, and quartering their STEADY ! CAREFUL ! 87 ground beautifully, before Cynthia came on her game so suddenly that she literally threw a somersault as she set the birds, turning herself completely over, so that her stern was toward the brood, and that she pointed them over her shoulder. Phebe backed her at a quarter of a mile, as steadily as if she had been cast in bronze or carved in marble. "Steady now, Frank !" said the Grovernor — " They are close under her nose." Gingerly, but firmly we advanced, finger-nail on the trig- ger-guard, thumb on the hammer, till we Avere within six paces of the bitch ; she was trembling with intense anxiety, her eyes gleaming like coals of fire, her brows corrugated, the slaver on her lip. "Careful, Frank, careful !" said the Governor, " I fancy it will prove a brood of squeakers, too young to kill — don't shoot the old hen, if it be so." But at the instant, as he spoke, being to the right hand of me, the old cock rose clapping his wings in defiance, and uttering a loud crow crossed me to the leftward. He was a splendid fellow. He rose so close that the bare scarlet granulated spots about his eyes, and his angrily erected crest were clearly visible, as well as the golden and deep red hackles on his neck, and the beautifully pied plumage of his brown, red, and black-barred back and wing coverts, his breast was partly turned toward me, and it was black as night. He proved afterward to be a three year old bird, and weighed but a few ounces short of four pounds weight, — for I was steady, let him get fifteen yards away, then raised my gun deliberately, drew trigger as the butt touched my shoulder — a stream of feathers drifted down wind, and with a heavy thud the noble cock fell dead among the short flowery heather. Nothing rose at the report, and it Avas not till after much kicking and beating of the heather, that the old hen 88 DOG AND GUN. rose with seventeen squeakers, not bigger than six-weeks chickens. Them, of course, Ave bade go their way rejoicing, as we did likewise, specially I — for had I not been cool, even by the Governor's ipse di.rif, and killed my first heath-cock fairly ? Our next find was three old bachelors, as they are termed by the initiated, old cock birds, namely, which, not having paired or bred the last year, band together and become great pests to the breeders, beating off the young males, and disturbing the amorous couples. They rose wild, at long-range — but we sent two snap shots" after them, and two fell, — the Governor's killed dead, mine wingtipped, but the bitches retrieved him cleverly after a mile's roading. The third rise was a well grown brood of twelve, with their parents, which also got up shy and distant, the heather being as yet too wet with dew to allow their lying hard. Yet I knocked one over, my father killing two — the old cock, a prodigiously long shot, with his second barrel. But as the day improved, and the sun grew warmer, the birds lay better, and I did my work creditably, to my own satisfaction, and won moderate praise from the Gov- ernor, and huge kudos from my preceptor in the noble art of collineation, as poor Cypress, Jr., was wont to call it, old Harr}^ Lee. When we counted heads at luncheon I was only two brace and a half behind my companion, who, as I said, was the best shot, walker and sportsman, it ever was my lot to meet, having bagged my thirteen brace and a half, six brace of them clever double shots, to his sixteen brace. In the afternoon, with the fresh dogs, though I shot as well, or, considering the change in the weather and state of the game, perhaps better than before luncheon, I did not fare so well. THE day's proceeds. 89 The day had become overcast, the wind had got up, the grouse had packed, and rose very wild and flew like hawks . — still, when the sun set, and we knocked off work, I had shot eleven brace more, three golden plover, and a curlew — but the Governor, who always shot the best when the shooting was the hardest, had bagged seventeen brace more of grouse, a hare, and a brace of mallards, which sprung unexpectedly from a peat bog. On the whole I had scored tAventy-four and a half brace of moor-game, fifty-three head of game in all, against his thirty-three brace of grouse, and total of sixty-nine head • — pretty well that for a green hand in his first season, shooting beside one of the best guns in the three king- doms. There were twenty-nine guns on the moor that morn- ing, and the Grovernor beat the two best, with fourteen brace to spare. Was not I a proud and a happy man that night, when after quaffing a half gallon of new milk, with a modicum^ of Jamaica in it — was too tired to eat supper — I plunged into the thyme-scented sheets, and was asleep before my head was well on the pillow. CHAPTER XII. • TREATMENT OF THE DISTEMPER. Since the foregoing pages of this little work were pre- pared, a friend has put us in possession of the following accurate description of the great enemy of the canine race — the Distemper. It was written years ago, by the great Jenner, and is, of course, an admirable description of the disease. Every man has his own cure for the Distemper ; the country is full of " infallible recipes." The chief point is to know whether or not the animal really has the disease. If that is early discovered, a mild purgative every other day, light diet, and a clean, comfortable kennel will pro- bably cure him. The following is the Jenner article : DISTEMPER IN DOGS. That disease among dogs which has familiarly been called "the Distemper," has not hitherto, I believe, been much noticed by medical men. My situation in the coun- try favoring my Avishes to make some observations on this singular malady, I availed myself of it during several successive years, among a large number of fox hounds be- longing to the Earl of Berkeley ; and from observing how frequently it has been confounded with hydrophobia, I am induced to lay the result of my inquiries before the Medical and Chirurgical Society. It may be difficult, perhaps, precisely to ascertain the period of its first ap- 90 THE DISTEMPER. • 91 pearance in Britain. In this and the neighboring counties, I have not been able to trace it back much beyond the middle of the last century ; but it has since spread uni- versally. I knew a gentleman who, about forty-five years ago, destroyed the greater part of his hounds, from sup- posing them mad, Avhen the distemper first broke out among them ; so little was it then known by those most conversant with dogs. On the continent, I find it has been known for a much longer period. It is as contagious, among dogs as the small-pox, measles, or scarlet fever among the human species ; and the contagious miasmata, like those arising from the diseases just mentioned, retain their infectious properties a long time after separation from the distempered animal. Young hounds, for example, brought in a state of health into a kennel where others have gone through the distemper, seldom escape it. I have endeavored to destroy the contagion, by ordering every part of the kennel to be carefully washed with water, then Avhite washed, and finally to be repeatedly fumigated with the vapor of marine acid ; but without any good result. The dogs generally sicken early in the second week after exposure to the contagion. It is more commonly a violent disease than otherwise, and cuts off, at least, one in the three that are attacked by it. It commences with inflammation of the substance of the lungs, and generally of the mucous membrane of the bronchise. The inflam- mation at the same time seizes on the membranes of the nostrils, &nd those lining the bones of the nose ; particu- larly the nasal portion of the ethmoid bone. These mem- branes are often inflamed to such a degree, as to cause extravasation of blood, which I have observed coagulated on their surface. The breathing is short and quick, and the breath is often fetid. The teeth are covered with dark-looking mucus. There is frequently a vomiting of a 92 ■ DOG AND GUN. glary fluid. The dog conimoiily refuses food, but his thirst seems insatiable, and nothing seems to cbeer him like the sight of water. The bowels, thougli generally constipated as the disease advances, are frequently affected with the diarrhoea at its commencement. The eyes are inflamed ; and the sight is often obscured by mucus secre- ted from the eye-lids, or by opacity of the cornea. The. brain is often affected as early as the second day after the attack. The animal becomes stupid, and his general habits are changed. In this state, if not prevented by loss of strength, he sometimes wanders from his home. He is frequently endeavoring to expel, by forcible expir- ations, the mucus from the trachea and fauces, with a peculiar rattling noise. His jaws are generally smeared with it, and it sometimes flows out in a frothy state, from his frequent champing. During the progress of the dis- ease, especially in its advanced stages, he is disposed to bite and gnaw anything within his reach. He has some- times epileptic fits, or quick succession of general, though slight convulsive spasms of the muscles. If the dog survives, this affection of the muscles con- tinues through life. He is often attacked with fits of a different description. He first staggers, then tumbles, rolls, cries as if whipped, and tears up the ground with his teeth and fore feet. He then lies down senseless and exhausted. On recovering he gets up, moves his tail, looks placid, comes to a whistle, and appears in every respect much better than before the attack. The eyes, during this parox3'^sm, look bright, and unless previously rendered dim by mucus, or opacity of the cornea, seem as if they were starting from the sockets. He becomes ema- ciated, and totters from feebleness in attempting to walk, or from a partial paralysis of the hind legs. In this state, he sometimes lingers on until the third or fourth week, and then either begins to show signs of returning health (which DESCRIPTION OF THE DISEASE. 93 seldom happens when the symptoms have continued with this degree of violence) or expires. During convalescence, he has sometimes, though rarely, profuse haemorrhafge from the nose. When the inflammation of the lungs is very severe, he frequently dies on the third day. I knew one instance of a dog's dying within twenty-four hours after the seizure, and in that short space of time the greater portion of the lungs was, from exudation, converted into a substance nearly as solid as the liver of a sound animal. In this case, the liver itself was considerably inflamed, and the eyes and flesh universally were tinged with yel- low, though I did not observe anything obstructing the biliary du ts. In other instances, I have also observed the eyes looking yellow. The above is a description of the disease in its severest form; but in this, as in the diseases of the human body, there is every gradation in its violence. There is also another affinity to some human diseases, viz., that the ani- mal which has once gone through it, very rarely meets with a second attack. Fortunately, this distemper is not communicable to man. Neither the efiluvia from the dis- eased dog, nor the bite, has proved in any instance infec- tious; but as it has often been confounded with canine madness, as I have before observed, it is to be wished that it were more generally understood ; for those who are bitten by a dog in this state, are sometimes thrown into such perturbation, that hydrophobic symptoms have actu- ally arisen from the workings of the imagination. Mr. John Hunter used to speak of a case somewhat of this description in his lectures.* Having never, to a certainty, * A gentleman who received a severe bite from a dog, soon after fancied the animal was mad. He felt a horror at the sight of liquids, and was actually convulsed on attempting to swallow them. So un- controllable were his prepossessions, that Mr. Hunter conceived that he would have died, had not the dog which inflicted the wound been 94 DOO AND GUN. seen a dog with hydrophobia, I am of course unable to lay down a positive criterion for distinguishing between that disease and the distemper, in the precise way I could wish ; but if the facts have been correctly stated, that in hydrophobia the eye of the dog has more than ordinary vivacity in it, and, as the term implies, he refuses to take water, and shudders even at the sight of it, while in the distemper he looks dull and stupid, is always seeking after water, and never satisfied with what he drinks, there can be no loss for a ready discriminating line between the two diseases. March 21, 1809- fortunately found and brought into his room in perfect health. This soon restored his mind to a state of tranquillity. Thesight of water no longer affected hiai, and he quickly recovered. CHAPTEK XIII. NIPE SHOOTING IN FLORIDA. BY COR DE CHASSE. As this little volume was getting ready for the press, the foilo\Yiiig interesting and graphic paper, on Snipe Shooting in Florida ^ reached me from that accomplished gentleman and crack shot, Col. Wm. T. Stockton, known to the readers of the N. Y. Spirit of the Times as " Cor DE Chasse :" *' QuixcY, Fla., January 26th, 1856. *' My Dear Hooper : — I am only at home a few days, and I am sure you will forgive me for my seeming neglect, when I tell you that I was absent from home for nearly three months, and had so much to say to wife and bairns on my return. But somewhat to my surprise, I did find your note requiring * that article.' Since I have an- nounced that it was from the veritable ' Jones,' I have become a man of more note. True, I was Intendant of the town, and Captain of the Quincy Light Horse, but the splendor of even those brilliant titles paled before the new one, of a correspondent of ' the author of Simon Suggs,' and * Editor of Montgomery Mail.' But, really, your request is so flattering, you have the gift, as Pliny has it, (I'll quote him again shortly) ' adornare verbis, benefacfa,' that though little in the mood (though I have been much in the 7niid of late), I must make the effort— (95) 96 DOG AND GUN. I labor under the difficulty of not knowing what sort of an article you want, or to what use you wish to put it. If it don't suit, why fires are never far off this cold weather.'' " But I promised to tell you something of our Snipe shooting here in Florida, and if other kinds of sport be- come mingled with it, it is because, from the very nature of the shooting ground it follows as a consequence. I do not propose to give you a scientific dissertation on the bird in question, for Audubon, Wilson, Frank Forester, &c., have given us all that can be wished. I will simply sketch the proceedings of a friend and myself, during a couple of days in the beginning of December before last. P. and Cor have hunted the deer and worked their point- ers together for some fifteen years. * Cor,' said P., * let us have our trip to Lake Jackson, and see if ducks and snipe are as numerous as heretofore ; the cold weather, I am sure, has brought in the ducks, and in this bright sun- shine the snipe will lie like quail.' " ' Agreed, we'll start to-morroAV at dawn ; the ponies will make a capital team on the road; we'll take saddles with us, and use them in going from camp to the shooting- ground and back. Sam will do the needful for the horses and the camp, for he has been with us so often, he has all the wrinkles from a venison steak up to a roasted snipe.' ** The next morning as the grey showed itself in the East, we were on the road. The hunting wagon was well arranged. The mess-chest supplied with all we could require (I am afraid to go into particulars since the 'Major' came out in ' the Spirit' with his tirade against demijohns), forming the seat of the driver Sam, who handled the gallant ponies, matched, in action, though awfully diverse in color, as if to the * manner born * while PARADISE OF THE SNIPE-SHOOTER. 97 Don and Donis * cliarged' under our seat in the after part of the wagon." *' * Shall we reconsider the motion to * camp' and go to the Governor's V asked Cor. * Oh ! let's camp by all means ; as we shall be so much in the mud and water, there will be less of restraint on us. True, the Governor will not forgive us, but my voice is for a camp at Shep- ajd's old Sugar Mill ; there we will find a roof to cover us, and it will be hard if the old timbers don't furnish us fuel.' " *' Two hours of time, and the quick moving ponies, placed us across Little E,iver and the Ocklockonee, and the waters of Lake Jackson were before us. And, now, let me sketch this paradise of the snipe-shooter. It was originally some twelve miles in length, by from one to two in breadth, and its bright waters shone clear in the sunlight, from highland to highland, but in the progress of the age, whether from new subterranean outlets effected, which discharge the waters more rapidly, or from the greater evaporation, arising from the clearing up of its shores, certain it is, that with the exception of a few eccentric changes, its level has been lowering, and in localities where formerly we had capital trout-fishing in six feet water, at present large crops of the Indian corn are produced, subject of course to the accident of an occasional overflow, in which case, if the corn is ripened, instead of the wagon drawn by patient oxen, boats worked by * darkies' in a hurry, become the medium of trans- portation of the crop to the crib. It is on these flats we seek the snipe; if a rise has taken place in the Lake, followed by a withdrawal of the waters, the tufts of grass among the corn form capital cover for the * Scolopaces,' but in many places, Avhen the land has not been brought into cultivation, a kind of marsh grass springs up, in which the game will lie to a dog as well as sportsmen can wish. But you must bear in mind that these same shooting- 98 UOt.5 AM) CLN. grounds afford full feed to tlie Brent, Black duck, Mallard, Grey duck, Teal, et id omne gemis. The highlands around the lake are crowned Avith handsome residences, and the youthful sportsman may almost hope that his skill is looked upon and admired by ladies fair, even should they fail to recognise him on account of the sepia tinge he may have acquired from a plunge into an alligator bed, or some similar " causa teterrima helli,'' anglice, going almost waist deep into a mud hole. " The deserted sugar-house has been reached, the ponies rubbed down, and after a light feed, saddled for our use ; full directions for the arrangements of the camp given, and Don and Donis, with wistful faces, are begging us to be off. Hardly had we gone fifty paces when several snipe rose wild, with the old familiar ' scape, scape.' Two of them doubled back, high in air, and though going down wind like bullets, were handsomely nailed by Cor and his friend, much to the astonishment of a passing countryman, whose wonder found vent in the words 'I tell you r as the birds were carefully retrieved by the well trained dogs. ' Let's try the point next the Gover- nor's.' We found it in just the right order. The grass was some six inches high, affording an excellent cover for our game, w^iile the rich black loam, though affording suf- ficiently good footing for the sportsman, was all that the most difficult snipe could desire in the way of feeding- ground. You may imagine the prospect of our sport when I tell you, that on this point there were about fifty acres, almost identical in character, and we knew of sundry other similar places. Pity 'tis that we cannot dwell (as in deer-hunting, on the music of the pack, the turns and shifts of the game, as hill and valley echo with the cry) on the gallant action of the pointers — there is no time. They found almost at the same moment. ' You see to Donis, I'll go to Don.' Before I could reach my dog I saw FINE SPORT. 99 featliers floating on the wind, while the reports of P's barrels reached my ear, ' Scape,' and a snipe rose almost from under my feet, and was fairly missed from the un- sportsmanlike flurry in which I fired. Still the good dog held his point. The load was quickly replaced. This time there Avas no hurry, and as three or four snipe rose within ten feet of Don's nose, two were easily cut down. For an hour the sport Avas fine — never did snipe lie so close ; hardly could we walk them up — occasionally, the warning cry * mark duck,' ' mark brent,' • up lake' or ■' down' would be given, and shooters and dogs crouch low, and reasonably close shots be obtained. In spite of num- ber seven shot (light missies for heavy gamej at intervals, a brent would come wizzing through the air Avith a broken wing, or a mallard strike the soft ground with a ' thud' right grateful to the ear. (Do not be critical on our number seven shot ; Ave find them small enough for isnipe, and they will kill a duck). But all this Avas the poetry of our Avork. Soon the snipe fmnd the open too uncom- fortable and took refuge in bushy thickets which skirted a portion of the lake, the shrubs rising to a height of from six to ten feet. Here there Avas no grass, and nothing but the excellence of our dogs enabled us to accomplish any- thing. The birds rose Avild, and snap-shots Avere all the fashion, and at least one-half the time the dogs kneAV better than the men Avhether the bird Avas killed or missed. But Avithout even the effort at a boast, Avell did the 'Mul- lin' in the hands of Cor, and the English gun in those of his friend, do their duty — of course, at intervals the sports- men Avould meet and a few minutes halt be made to rest and compare notes. * Do you see, across the lake, that little cove,' said Cor, ' where that fine live oak and the low pines shade the very bank ? There, last winter, that party of our young friends made their first camp on the lake. As an old hand, I received a pressing invitation to 100 DOG AND GUN. join them at some period of the week of their sojourn. On the morning after they reached camp, business called me within a few miles of them, I thonght I would drop in and see what they had done. The party had just come in to lunch, and as they caught sight of me a shout was raised, and they advanced to meet me. Among them was 'the General.' " What sport ?" " Pretty fair !" but I could remark an appearance of elation in them all, though most marked, perhaps, in " the General," and so quietly waited for the denouement. A surprise for me was evidently pre- paring. The General's military step assumed a prouder air, as he strode beside my horse ; a scientific wheel was accomplished around the tent, by which the game was suddenly made visible. "What do you think of that T' triumphantly asked the General. " By Jupiter, P," con- tinued Cor, if they didn't have twenty-three Blue Peters laid out side by side, and not one single other bird ! Commanding my countenance, I inquired " how it had been done ?" *' Oh ! all military science ! it will tell ! I discovered the flock in the cove there, at daylight, arranged the hunters at once, an ambuscade was formed surround- ing the cove, and at the signal, the whole battalion, I should say, partly fired; only three escaped ! as we shall be here several days yet, and it will not do to risk their spoil- ing, what had Ave best do Avith them 1' I could see that a misgiving was creeping over the whole of them which was fully confirmed by my reply, 'Hide them, as soon as possible, lest some sportsman should pass this way.' There were no more Blue Peters killed on that hunt — (The blue Peter, with its half-webbed feet, its chicken-like bill, its strong odor, and its absolute tameness, is ahvays spared by the duck-shooter). 'But,' Cor went on, 'Iioay splend- idly our dogs have behaved. I always knew that Don was the best dog I ever hunted over, but I now believe Donis is the' best I ever saw,' *Donis understands you 'MARK DUCK? LAKEWARDS !' 101 evidently,' returned P., ' and is expressing his thanks, by that Avag of his tail; we have sent the remnant of the snipe, for the most "^art, back to the open ground, let us have another turn at them and then we must change our ^hot for the evening flight of the ducks,' and well did man and dog and gun do their w(.rk. The sport was so good, the birds lay so well, the ground so open, that shooting fully in sight of each other, we did not dare to miss. There was no need to profit by the peculiarities of the game, as derived from Frank Foresters valued information. The shooting was better up wind than down, as it gave the dogs a better chance. Sunday visits had been paid to the game-bags, on the ponies, but our pockets were again becoming onerous. It was now sundown and we hurried to them once more, emptied pockets, and changed shot, Cor adopting No. 4, while P. preferred No. 6, and sup- ported his judgment by saying ' we'll catch the mallard coming in to feed, and there will be few long shots.' We took stands on opposite sides of an ann of the Lak, about seventy-five yards wide, which expanded into a bay, filled with water-grasses, lily-pads, &c. — a portion of a field of corn had been submerged, 'also, offering gi'eat temptation to the green heads and their mates. By the time, we were safely ensconced in the tall grass, with the dogs couching near us, P. sang out 'mark ducks — lakewards!' and from that time forward, we had enough to keep us busy. "Night closed in, but still the flashes of our guns at intervals lighted up the grassy Avaters, while the respon- sive 'plash' told that, even in that uncertain light, we were doing execution. 'Up rose the yellow moon,' and by her beams the shooting still went on. Of course, there were no long shots even attempted ; but so unsuspiciously did the mallard come in, that the firing was well-sustained. In the long, coarse rushes, the saw-grass, the lily-pads, and the cold water, our thin-skinned pointers of course failed to 102 DOG AND GUN. retrieve many of tlie birds ; but when, after nearly two hours of the moonlight shooting, we gave it up, tired and chilled, the dogs shivering, and the guns foul, we each had as many as we could well carry to our horses. Securing our game to the saddles, we hurried to camp. Sam had managed admirably ; a brilliant fire threw its broad glare over the ruiiis; by propping a shed, a safe shelter was provided for our horses ; a quantity of fennel had been gathered, and with the blankets spread over it, an easy and fragrant bed was ready for us. But now * spirits were called from the vasty deep ' — (aye, and they came, too) — of the demijohn, much needed, believe me, after that night's exposure in the marsh, with the ice forming in the still pools. Wet clothes and boots were exchanged for dry, and things were more comfortable — nunc edendum. In the excitement of the sport, we had forgotten that breakfast had been had before day, and that nothing had been eaten in the interval. The ham and chicken were duly paraded, but Cor was bound to have some of the * scapers ' cooked en 2^