Dr. Warwick relates an instance of instinct and intelligence in the Pike, which is so remarkable that I am sure my readers will be pleased to be made acquainted with it. I am the more induced to transfer it to these pages, from the remarks with which the doctor closes his narrative. From reasons stated above, the reader will be prepared to learn that I do not consider the statements therein advanced--that fishes are really sensible to sound--by any means conclusive. When residing at Dunham, the seat of the Earl of Stamford and Warrington, he (Dr. Warwick), was walking one evening in the park, and came to a pond where fish intended for the table were temporarily kept. He took particular notice of a fine pike of about six pounds weight, which, when it observed him, darted hastily away. In so doing it struck its head against a tenterhook in a post (of which there were several in the pond, placed to prevent poaching), and, as it afterwards appeared, fractured its skull, and turned the optic nerve on one side. The agony evinced by the animal appeared most horrible. It rushed to the bottom, and boring its head into the mud, whirled itself round with such velocity that it was almost lost to sight for a short interval. It then plunged about the pond, and at length threw itself completely out of the water on to the bank. He (the doctor) went and examined it, and found that a very small portion of the brain was protruding from the fracture in the skull. He then carefully replaced this, and with a small silver toothpick raised the indented portion of the skull. The fish remained still for a short time, and he then put it again in the pond. It appeared at first a good deal relieved, but in a few minutes it again darted and plunged about until it threw itself out of the water a second time. A second time Dr. Warwick did what he could to relieve it, and again put it in the water. It continued for several times to throw itself out of the pond, and with the assistance of the keeper, the doctor at length made a kind of pillow for the fish, which was then left in the pond to its fate. Upon making his appearance at the pond on the following morning, the pike came towards him to the edge of the water, and actually laid its head upon his foot. The doctor thought this most extraordinary, but he examined the fish's skull and found it going on all right. He then walked backwards and forwards, along the edge of the pond for some time, and the fish continued to swim up and down, turning whenever he turned; but being blind on the wounded side of its skull, it always appeared agitated when it had that side toward the bank, as it could not then see its benefactor. On the next day he took some young friends down to see the fish, which came to him as usual, and at length he actually taught the pike to come to him at his whistle, and feed out of his hands. With other persons it continued as shy as fish usually are. He (Dr. Warwick) thought