inclined plane, upon which her friends might safely reach the ground.

It has been stated to us that this elephant, when first brought out upon the stage of the Adelphi, would not be led to any particular point, till she had carefully tried the strength of the boards upon which she trod, thrusting her trunk upon every suspicious spot, and slowly and hesitatingly placing her feet in advance, before she moved her body forward. A remarkable example of this instinct is mentioned by a writer who had opportunities of observing the elephants of India:-" An elephant belonging to Mr. Boddam, of the Bengal civil service at Gyah, used every day to pass over a small bridge, leading from his master's house into the town of Gyah. one day refused to go over it, and it was with great difficulty, by goring him most cruelly with the hawkuss (an iron instrument), that the mohout (driver) could get him to venture on the bridge, the strength of which he first tried with his trunk, shewing clearly that he suspected that it was not sufficiently strong. At last he went on, and before he could get over, the bridge gave way, and they were precipitated into the ditch, which killed the driver, and considerably injured the elephant*"

He

This instinct which the elephant possesses of trying the strength of any construction, whether natural or artificial, which it is necessary for him to cross, is particularly worthy of observation. When the enor mous weight of a full-grown elephant is considered, it must be obvious, that if the creature were rashly to pláce his body upon any frail support his danger would be extreme. His caution, therefore, in avoiding such an evil is constantly exercised; and the powerful as well as delicate instrument of touch which he possesses enables him always to be convinced of his * Johnson's Indian Field Sports, p. 56.

security, without incurring any risk under ordinary circumstances. The elephant at the Adelphi retained this instinct in full force, however she might have been led away from her natural habits by the artificial restraints of her discipline;-and we, therefore, give full belief to the assertion. We are not quite so prepared to believe what we have also heard stated with regard to this animal, that, upon being satisfied of the strength of the stage, and finding herself in a theatre, she immediately, without any direction from her keeper, began to rehearse the scenes which she had previously performed at Paris. Pliny, however, tells us, that an elephant, having been punished for his inaptitude in executing some feat which he was required to learn, was observed at night endeavouring to practise what he had vainly attempted in the day;-and Plutarch confirms this, by mentioning an elephant who practised his theatrical attitudes, alone, by moonlight.

A very curious example of the teachableness of the elephant is presented in the instance of a female, about seven years old, which is now exhibited in Mr. Cross's Menagerie. This animal was accustomed to perform some of the tricks usually taught to her species, such as kneeling down at the command of her keeper, ringing a bell, and blowing through her proboscis, as a mark of pleasure. The success of the elephant at the Adelphi Theatre was the cause of her being incited to higher performances. A proposal was made to Mr. Cross, that she should be exhibited in a melo-drama at the Coburg Theatre; -and she was accordingly removed thither to be trained in her new vocation. She followed her keeper very readily through the streets;-but she became uneasy at her change of lodgings, and the man, to quiet her, was obliged to sleep in the stable in which she was placed. Her theatrical education

occupied only three weeks; and in that short period she became accustomed to glaring lights and sudden sounds-learnt to move with a measured pace to musical cadences-was taught to distinguish one actor from another, so as to place a crown, with true poetic justice, on the head of the lawful king-and feasted at her banquet with almost as much propriety as the elephants of Germanicus. It is satisfactory to know, that this rapid instruction was not accompanied with severity. The keeper of the docile animal pursued a system of unremitting kindness; and every new acquirement was impressed upon her by judicious rewards. This was the plan which was followed by the ancients in the education of their elephants. Those whose performances are described by Ælian were, according to this writer, brought under discipline by the greatest kindness, and by the indulgence of varieties of food which were grateful to their palates; and thus, he says, whatever was ferocious in their nature was gradually expelled, and a perfect gentleness, and even a sort of humanity, was induced in them. Ælian argues from this, that the beast is of a generous and noble disposition. The same principle, we apprehend, may be applied to the education of nearly all quadrupeds. The horse is made vicious by a harsh driver, and the ass acquires his hereditary doggedness from constant ill-treatment. The elephant is certainly more easily trained than the horse or the ass;-but the application of severity to the less teachable animal is only an indication of the ill-temper and impatience of the trainer. One of the most pleasing exhibitions of animal sagacity is presented by the equestrian stud of Mr. Ducrow. The superior docility of the horses of this extraordinary performer is produced by the most assiduous kindness, without the slightest mixture of severity.

The elephant of the Coburg Theatre has now re

turned to her confinement at Mr. Cross's Menagerie. She is remarkable for a constant practice of rolling her body, as if she were swayed by the motion of a ship; and it is stated that she acquired this habit upon her voyage from Calcutta. The keeper informed us, that while she was occupied by her instruction at the theatre, he scarcely ever observed this; but that she resumed the motion immediately after she was placed in her own cell. Almost every elephant, under confinement, has a peculiar movement, as if it were necessary to substitute some exercise for the unrestrained activity of a state of nature. Darwin considers that this species of restlessness, in animals generally, is occasioned by increase of stimulus, or by accumulation of sensorial power. "Thus," he says,

"when a squirrel is confined in a cage, he feels uneasiness from the accumulation of sensorial power in his muscles, which were before in continual violent exertion in his habits of life; and in this situation finds relief by perpetually jumping about his cage to expend a part of this accumulated sensorial power. For the same reason those children who are constrained to sit in some schools for hours together, are liable to acquire habits of moving some muscles of their faces, or hands, or feet, which are called tricks, to exhaust a part of the accumulated sensorial power*." The elephant also finds it essential to employ some portion of that intelligence, which, in his condition of liberty, conduces to his support and his pleasure, in an ever-active curiosity about little matters. He accommodates himself as well as he can to the narrow sphere of action in which he is placed. Thus, an elephant in a cell is always feeling about with his trunk-inserts the finger, as it has been expressively called, into the minutest crack-and examines every new object * Zoonomia, vol. iv. p. 12, 8vo.

which is presented to him with the most eager curiosity. In this way we observed an elephant, exhibited in Atkins's travelling menagerie, spend more than an hour in unscrewing a nut which had been newly placed on the upper part of the cage; and M. Houel, a French artist, who published an elaborate account of the two elephants which the victorious armies of the French republic brought to Paris from Holland, states that, having, during the daily walk of the elephants, drawn some perpendicular and horizontal lines upon the wall of their cell, he was astonished to observe them, upon their return, examine these marks with the greatest attention, whilst the female, at length, deliberately proceeded to rub them out with her trunk*. M. Houel thinks that the necessity for some occupation is most felt by the female.

The elephant is, to a surprising extent, the creature of habit. We have mentioned that Mr. Cross's elephant required her keeper to sleep in the stable where she was newly placed. Upon her return to her old cell, the keeper left her at night as he had been previously accustomed to do; but the animal would not go to rest, as she usually did. She persevered in remaining upon her legs for four or five nights; till the keeper conjectured that she was unhappy without him. A hammock was, therefore, slung in the cell for the keeper;-and the poor beast, immediately that he took his place near her, lay down with evident satisfaction.

Elephants are not only annoyed by any deviation from their accustomed habits, but they sometimes resent any constrained departure from the regularity of their course, in an odd way. It is stated, amongst

* Histoire Naturelle des deux Eléphans, p. 89. Paris, 1803. 4to.