It is a question whether much can be learned from the habits of animals in captivity that might lead us to decide upon their native instincts, for these certainly become curiously modified and even altered by domestication, and this tendency to assimilate themselves to the ways of human beings. The knowledge of time possessed not only by dogs, but by other animals, is one of these acquired instincts, if we may use such a term; and it is no little credit to the punctuality of a family when the feathered and four-footed dependants calculate accurately both their feeding time and that of the return of any daily absent member of the family, and make their appearance at the proper time.

Among the less generally tamed animals, however, the natural habits are observable, and sometimes are curious and unaccountable. A coatimondi we had for many years had an extraordinary predilection for rubbing any strong perfume on its tail; if a bunch of tansy or fever-few were given to him, he would seize it eagerly in his forepaws, and, seating himself so as to bring his tail into a convenient position, he would then crush and rub the plant all over his tail, sniffing and sneezing with evident relish all the time. Lavender water, or any perfume poured on a piece of paper, was instantly applied in the same way; and one of the few occasions on which he was known to bite, was when a lady, whose reticule he had snatched from her hand, and out of which he had torn her scented handkerchief for this ludicrous purpose, attempted to take it from him, an interference with his toilet which he resented accordingly. There was one other thing also which irritated him: if any one made a chirping noise, he instantly darted at the person, snapping and biting; as gentle and fond of being caressed as a dog, this sound invariably provoked him, and strangers had to be warned on going near him, not to use this method of attracting his attention. His "passive resistance" was worthy of a quaker; on all occasions of leading him off to the stable, after having been indulged with a visit to the house, or a seat at the fireside, when he felt the pull at the chain fastened to his collar, he first resisted, then laid hold of the chain with his forepaws, but when he found all his efforts unavailing, he lay down on his back as if dead, and allowed himself to be thus dragged unresistingly out of the house and down the avenue. When within a few yards of his kennel, however, he used to start up and run, as if for his life, till he got into it. He never attempted to bite on these occasions; however unwilling to be led off, he might be lifted and carried with perfect impunity; all he did was to manifest his repugnance to the change of quarters in this "anti-annuity tax " fashion of passive resistance. May this not have been a modification of the instinct that makes many animals sham death when in danger?

We have more than once had monkeys as pets; but, amusing as they are, they have more caprice of temper, and are less docile than many other animals that do not look so companionable. I think they sometimes get credit for more sagacity than they deserve, from the absurd gravity with which they perform their antics, and from the resemblance of their movements to those of human beings; the manner of using their hands especially has a ludicrous likeness to ourselves, and always seems to strike children with surprise. Both our monkeys were of the same species; and the last one we had was certainly affectionate to those whom it took a fancy to, though apt to take a capricious ill-will even to them, while to others it manifested marked dislike at first sight. During summer, it used to be fastened to a tree in the garden, where it could climb about, or swing by its prehensile tail; but in winter, its health suffered from confinement in a cage, and it was eventually sent to the Zoological Gardens. It was rather touching to see how instantly he recognised any of his old friends while there, coming close to the bars of the large cage, and clasping his long black fingers round their hands, reluctantly letting go, and following them with his eyes round the room as long as he could see them. He died of consumption, a disease which carries off many of these animals when brought to this country.

The propensity to make pets of live creatures is by no means confined to taming beasts and birds • almost any living thing will do, although no doubt this propensity is most fully gratified when the pet returns the affection bestowed, or even recognises its owner. Many animals, generally considered disgusting, have been made pets of - such as toads, newts, and lizards; indeed, I can recall a summer when a glass globe, usually filled with gold-fish, about the most uninteresting of pets, was converted into a fresh-water aquarium, and all sorts of queer creatures kept therein. It was long before the days of aquariums, so perhaps the novelty was one attraction; but certainly no one entered the drawing-room who did not examine and watch with interest the reptiles and insects living there, an interest the pretty but stupid gold-fish never excited. One large water-newt was an especial object of curiosity; he did not object to being taken out of the water and handled: indeed he had to submit occasionally to be made a plaything of by the children of the family, and more than once he was dressed in a doll's frock and carried about tenderly, the little fat forelegs of the newt being suggestive of infantine arms! Almost everybody likes to look at tadpoles, little merry black imps, wriggling up and down, some with tails, some with none, some like little balls, others with tiny feet beginning to sprout, always in motion, and always merry, and at last disappearing in some mysterious way, just when one expects to have a dozen or so of infant frogs to dispose of. This disappearance of one's reptile pets is, it must be acknowledged, apt to be annoying, not that they are ever found, but that people will keep grumbling about "these nasty creatures " crawling about the room, and insisting on it that they are dangerous and poisonous, and that they don't like such creatures at large in the sitting-rooms. A lizard with a family of young ones once disappeared in this way, to my great regret ; she was kept in a large china bowl, among damp earth, carefully covered in by a glass shade; the mother grew tame enough to take flies from the hand, while the young ones got a spray of a rose-bush covered with aphides shaken among them every morning. They lived thus some weeks, and then disappeared, no one, of course, acknowledging to having lifted the cover, or touched the bowl. This difficulty, impossibility rather, of preventing people from meddling with what they profess to be only looking at, is a sore subject to most collectors and keepers of curiosities; boxes are opened just for a peep, covers are removed and carelessly replaced, and then the doers of the mischief turn round upon the hapless naturalist and blame him for filling the house with creeping things, when he would be but too thankful to have his newts, lizards, caterpillars, or glowworms safe in captivity again.