all kinds of domestic birds brought up in yards, as cocks, hens, capons, ducks, turkeys, &c.

Almost, if not all the domestic birds of the poultry kind that we maintain in our yards are of foreign extraction: but there are others to be ranked in this class that are as yet in a state of nature, and perhaps only wait till they become sufficiently scarce to be taken under the care of man to multiply their propagation. It will appear remarkable enough, if we consider how much the tame poultry which we have imported from distant climates has increased, and how much those wild birds of the poultry kind that have never yet been taken into keeping have been diminished and destroyed. They are all thinned; and many of the species, especially in the more cultivated and populous parts of the kingdom, are utterly unseen.

Under birds of the poultry kind may be ranked all those that have white flesh, and, comparatively to their heads and limbs, have bulky bodies. They are furnished with short strong bills for picking up grain, which is their chief and often their only sustenance. Their wings are short and concave; for which reason they are not able to fly far. They lay a great many eggs; and as they lead their young abroad, the very day they are hatched, in quest of food, which they are shown by the mother, and which they pick up for themselves, they generally make their nests on the ground. The toes of all these are united by a membrane as far as the first articulation, and are then divided.

Under this clas we may therefore render the common cock, the peacock, the turkey, the pintada or Guinea hen, the pheasant, the bustard, the grouse, the partridge, and the quail. They all bear a strong similitude to each other, being equally granivorous, flethy, and delicate to the palate. They are among birds what beasts of pasture are among quadrupeds, peaceable tenants of the field, and shunning the thicker parts of the forest, that abound with numerous animals who carry on unceasing hostilities against them.

As nature has formed the rapacious clas for war, so she seems equally to have fitted these for peace, rest, and society. Their wings are but short, so that they are ill formed for wandering from one region to another: their bills are also short, and incapable of annoying their opposers: their legs are strong indeed; but their toes are made for scratching up their food, and not for holding or tearing it. These are sufficient indications of their harmless nature; while their bodies, which are fat and flethy, render them unwieldy travellers, and incapable of straying far from each other.

Accordingly, we find them chiefly in society: they live together: and though they may have their disputes, like all other animals, upon some occasions; yet, when kept in the same district, or fed in the same yard, they learn the art of subordination; and, in proportion as each knows his strength, he seldom tries a second time the combat where he has once been worsted.

In this manner, all of this kind seem to lead an indolent voluptuous life. As they are furnished internally with a very strong stomach, commonly called a gizzard, so their voraciousness fears no bounds. If kept in close captivity, and separated from all their former companions, they have still the pleasure of eating left; and they soon grow fat and unwieldy in their prison. To say this more simply, many of the wilder species of birds, when cooped or caged, pine away, grow gloomy, and some refuse all sustenance whatever; none except those of the poultry kind grow fat, who seem to lose all remembrance of their former liberty, satisfied with indolence and plenty.

The following method of raising poultry has been successfully practised by Mrs d'Oyley of Sion Hill near Northallerton, and seems worthy of being noticed. We shall extract the account of it, as it was given to the Society for the Encouragement of Arts, &c. in her own words, "I keep," says she, "a large stock of poultry, which are regularly fed in a morning upon steamed potatoes chopped small, and at noon they have barley; they are in high condition, tractable, and lay a very great quantity of eggs. In the poultry-yard is a small building, similar to a pigeon cote, for the hens to lay in with frames covered with net to slide before each nest: the house is dry, light, and well ventilated, kept free from dirt by having the nests and walls white-washed two or three times a-year, and the floor covered once a-week with fresh ashes. When I wish to procure chickens, I take the opportunity of setting many hens together, confining each to her respective nest; a boy attends morning and evening to let any off that appear restless, and to see that they return to their proper places: when they hatch, the chickens are taken away, and a second lot of eggs allowed them to set again, by which means they produce as numerous a brood as before. I put the chickens into long wicker cages, placed against a hot wall at the back of the kitchen fire, and within them have artificial mothers for the chickens to run under; they are made similar to those described by M. Reaumur, in his Art de faire éclore et d'élever en toutes Saillons des Oiseaux domestiques de toutes Espèces, &c. in two volumes, printed at Paris, 1751: they are made of boards about 10 inches broad, and 15 inches long, supported by two feet in the front four inches in height, and by a board at the back two inches in height. The roof and back are lined with lambskins dressed with the wool upon them. The roof is thickly perforated with holes for the heated air to escape; they are formed without bottoms, and have a flannel curtain in front and at the ends for the chickens to run under, which they do apparently by instinct. The cages are kept perfectly dry and clean with sand or moss. The above is a proper size for 50 or 60 new hatched chickens, but as they increase in size they of course require a larger mother. When they are a week old, and the weather fine, the boy carries them and their artificial mother to the grass-plot, nourishes and keeps them warm, by placing a long narrow tin vessel filled with hot water at the back of the mother, which will retain its heat for three hours, and is then renewed fresh from the steamer. In the evening they are driven into their cages, and resume their station at the hot wall, till they are nearly three weeks old, and able to go into a small room appropriated to that purpose. The room is furnished with frames similar to the artificial mothers, placed round the floor, and with perches conveniently arranged for them to roost upon.

"When I first attempted to bring up poultry in the above way, I lost immense numbers by too great heat and suffocation, owing to the roofs of the mothers not being sufficiently ventilated; and when that evil was remedied, I had another serious one to encounter: I found chickens brought up in this way did not thrive upon the food I gave them, and many of them died, till I thought of getting coarse barley-meal, and teaming it till quite soft: the boy feeds them with this and minced potatoes alternately; he is also employed rolling up pellets of dough, made of coarse wheat flour, which he throws to excite them to eat, thereby causing them to grow surprisingly.

"I was making the above experiments in the summer for about two months; and during that time my hens produced me upwards of 500 chickens, 400 of which I reared fit for the table or market. I used a great many made into pies for the family, and found them cheaper than butcher's meat. Were I situated in the neighbourhood of London, or any very populous place, I am confident I could make an immense profit, by rearing different kinds of poultry in the above method for the markets, and selling them on an average at the price of butcher's meat.

"A young person of 12 or 14 years of age might bring up in a season some thousands, and by adopting a fence similar to the improved sheep-fold, almost any number might be cheaply reared, and with little trouble. Hens kept as mine are, and having the same conveniences, will readily set four times a season, and by setting twice