We owe to two principles which have been ably Illustrated by modern naturalists — namely, the educability of animals, and the transmission of the acquired gifts to new generations —that the young pointer, without ever having seen a field of game, is no sooner introduced to one than it points, as its father and mother did before it. To this also we owe the even more interesting speciality of certain varieties of the canine species, that they unpromptedly engage in the business of saving human life in situations of danger. We have all heard of the dogs of St Bernard, which for ages have been devoted to the special duty of rescuing travellers who may be lost in Alpine snows. Early in the present century, one of these noble creatures was decorated with a medal, in reward for having saved the lives of no less than twenty-two snow-bound travellers.
Sad to say, it lost its own life in the winter of 1816. A Piedmontese courier, after resting for a while at the Hospice during a terrible snow storm, was earnestly desirous of proceeding that same night to the village of St Pierre, on the Italian side of the mountain. The monks, after endeavouring in vain to dissuade him, lent him the aid of two guides and two dogs, including the one bearing the medal. The courier's family knowing of his intended return, and anxious for his safety, ascended part of the way to meet him; and thus it happened that the whole were nearly together when an avalanche broke away from the mountain pinnacle, and buried human beings and dogs together. So keen is the sense of smell possessed by these dogs, that though a perishing man lie beneath a snow drift to a depth of several feet, they will detect the spot, scrape away the snow with their feet, make a howling that can be heard at a great distance, and exert themselves to the utmost in his behalf. An anecdote is told of one of the dogs that found a child whose mother had just been destroyed by an avalanche; the child, alive and unhurt, was in some way induced to get upon the dog's back, and was safely conveyed to the Hospice.
Of the aptitude of the Newfoundland dog to take to the water, and courageously help drowning or endangered persons, the instances are abundant. We will cite only two. A Mr William Phillips, while bathing at Portsmouth, ventured out too far, and was in imminent peril. Two boatmen, instead of starting off to assist him, selfishly strove to make a hard bargain with some of the bystanders, who urged them. While the parley was going on, a Newfoundland dog, seeing the danger, plunged into the water, and saved the struggling swimmer. It is pleasantly told that Mr Phillips, in gratitude for his deliverance, bought the dog from his owner, a butcher, and thereafter gave an annual festival, at which the dog was assigned the place of honour, with a good ration of beefsteaks. He had a picture of the dog painted by Morland, and engraved by Bartolozzi; and on all his table-linen he had this picture worked in the tissue, with the motto, "Virum extuli mari."
The other anecdote is of more recent date. On the 8th of March 1834, two little boys were playing on the banks of the Grosvenor Canal at Pimlico (lately filled up to make the Victoria and Crystal Palace Railway). The younger of the two, in his gambols, fell into the water; the elder, about nine years of age, plunged in with the hope of saving him. Both sank, and their lives were greatly imperilled. It happened that at that critical moment Mr Ryan, an actor at Astley's Amphitheatre, was passing, with a fine Newfoundland dog, which, under the name of Hero, was wont to take part in some of the performances. A bystander threw a pebble into the water, to shew the spot where the two poor boys were immersed. The dog plunged in and brought up the elder one; the clothes were rent, and the boy sank again; but the dog, making a second attempt, succeeded in bringing him to the shore, and afterwards his brother. Mr Horncroft, the father of the children, gave a dinner that evening, at which Hero was a specially invited guest; and his gambols with the two boys whom he had saved, shewed how he appreciated the joyousness of the meeting. [ source note ]
Some years ago, it was resolved at Paris to take advantage of the gifts of the Newfoundland dog, for a general purpose resembling the practice at St Bernard. Ten select dogs were brought to the French capital, and appointed as savers of human life in the river Seine. They were first exercised in drawing stuffed figures of men and children from the water, and in time they acquired such skill and facility in their business, as to prove eminently serviceable.