Mr. Walker purchased from a native a fine healthy male Gorilla, apparently about two years of age, and shipped it for England. Being under the impression that he had taken too much care of all the other living ones which he had obtained at different times, he determined to let the new acquisition have its own way, and only take care that it did no mischief. When purchased, the animal was by no means strange or spiteful, but rather what may be termed shy, and suspicious of strangers. At the expiration of about a week, however, it became sufficiently tame and confiding to admit of its being allowed to run about loose, and to do as it liked. At the same time its food, instead of being confined to the fruits on which it is supposed to feed in its wild state, consisted in general of fragments from the table, and beside these it had anything edible it could lay its hands on, and occasionally a basin of condensed milk and a raw egg beaten up in it was given. It liked amomum fruit, but this produced diarrhœa which had to be treated with chlorodyne and raw egg. Finding that the animal became restive, it was left entirely to its own devices, and especially as every one in the ship was at the same time so very busy as not to be able to pay much attention to it. It soon became quite at home, alternately eating, sleeping, and playing with a large bull-terrier (of by no means the most amiable disposition), which had a most decided dislike to negroes, but nevertheless took very kindly to the Gorilla, so that the two animals became constant playfellows. By allowing the Gorilla to rough it, instead of watching it, and appointing someone to take care of it, in which case these animals become so much attached to their keeper or attendant, that a separation from him almost invariably causes these affectionate Apes to pine away and die, and by habituating it to such food as is generally to be found on shipboard, it was hoped that it might be brought to England. But accidents will happen, even to Gorillas. It came down to dinner one day, and ate scraps with the dog, and went to sleep. When looked for, some hours afterwards, it was missing, and must have fallen off the taffrail into the sea. Strangely enough, this young one was not given to climbing. It will be noticed that these remarks are totally at variance with those of M. Du Chaillu, who was impressed with the untamable character of the Gorilla; so we must wait until further evidence is produced, and probably until a little Gorilla is safely lodged in the Regent’s Park.