After a preliminary dissertation on the nature of animals, Buffon plunges into an account of those that have been domesticated or tamed. Preference of place is given to the horse, and his method of treatment is curiously anticipatory of modern lines. Beginning with some notice of the horse in history, he goes on to describe its appearance and habits and the varieties of the genus, ending (by the hand of Daubenton) with an account of its structure and physiology. As evidence of the pains he took to collect authority for his statements, it is of interest to mention that he illustrates the running powers of the English horse by citing the instance of Thornhill, the postmaster of Stilton, who, in 1745, wagered he would ride the distance from Stilton to London thrice in fifteen consecutive hours. Setting out from Stilton, and using eight different horses, he accomplished his task in 3 hours 51 minutes. In the return journey he used six horses, and took 3 hours 52 minutes. For the third race he confined his choice of horses to those he had already ridden, and, selecting seven, achieved the distance in 3 hours 49 minutes. He performed the undertaking in 11 hours and 32 minutes. "I doubt," comments Buffon, "whether in the Olympic Games there was ever witnessed such rapid racing as that displayed by Mr. Thornhill." Justice having been done to it, the horse gives place to the ass, ox, sheep, goat, pig, dog, and cat, with which he closes the account of the domesticated animals, to which three volumes are allotted. It is noteworthy that Buffon frequently, if not always, gives the synonyms of the animals' names in other languages, and usually supports his textual statements by footnote references to his authorities. When he comes to the Carnivores--"les animaux nuisibles"--the defects of Buffon's higgledy-piggledy plan are almost ludicrously evident, for flesh-eaters, fruit-eaters, insect-eaters, and gnawers rub shoulders with colossal indifference. Doubtless, however, this is to us all the more conspicuous, because use and wont have made readers of the present day acquainted with the advantages of classification, which it is but fair to recognise has been elaborated and perfected since Buffon's time. As his gigantic task progressed, Buffon's difficulties increased. At the beginning of vol. xii. (1764) he intimates that, with a view to break the monotony of a narrative in which uniformity is an unavoidable feature, he will in future, from time to time, interrupt the general description by discourses on Nature and its effects on a grand scale. This will, he naively adds, enable him to resume "with renewed courage" his account of details the investigation of which demands "the calmest patience, and affords no scope for genius." _II.--The Birds_