No dog ever appealed more to the kindly instincts of humanity than the St. Bernard. Not his rich chesnut or tawny colour with dark facings and white collar and blaze, nor his kindly benevolent countenance and immense size and power, gave him his popularity. He won that on other "fields" than the artificial ones of dogs shows. He earned his laurels and his popularity on the mountains of Switzerland. Tourists had talked of his intelligence, travellers had written stories of how he saved the lives of benighted travellers overcome by snowstorms. The St. Bernard was a hero in imagination and in anticipation, long before he was seen in this country; and when he was seen, his beauty and dignity at once made him master of the situation.

Some people had called him an Alpine mastiff - a bloodhound; others had termed him a mongrel - the consensus of opinion was in favour of his nomenclature being after that hospice of St. Bernard in the Alps, where the monks had bred and reared the intelligent creature, and had trained him to go out in the snowstorms and seek for and find any poor traveller whose strength had failed him, and who might lay beneath a snow wreath midway between life and death. What schoolboy has not heard of Barry, the wonderful dog of St. Bernard, who in his time had been the means of saving the lives of some fifteen persons, though the number varies according to the imagination of the narrator, and thus is generally, but incorrectly, given as about forty. However, Barry was the most celebrated dog these monks ever possessed, and during fourteen years (he was fifteen when he died) went out on to the mountains and sought for the stricken-down wayfarer. It has been said that the poor dog met his end by one whom he sought to rescue, taking him for a wolf and killing him. Another story is as follows:

In the winter of 1816, we are told that a Pied-montese courier arrived at the Hospice on a very stormy day, intent on proceeding on his journey to the village of St. Pierre, in the vale below, and where his family were. The monks attempted to dissuade him from leaving until the storm had abated, but he preferred going forward, so, with two guides and a couple of dogs, he set out down the mountain. At the village the family of the man had become alarmed at his absence, and ascended the mountain in the hope of assisting him home. Two terrific avalanches at that time fell, and, rolling down from where the snows had accumulated for years, overwhelmed, first the courier, his guides, and the dogs, and continuing their course, swept the man's family to destruction - and it is said Barry was one of the dogs that met so untimely an end.

Though the monks have had their dogs for many years - how many has not yet been traced, but their monastery was founded in 962 - as British subjects St. Bernards are but a modern institution. Perhaps they were originally at the Hospice for protection of person and property, as the following extract from an old English newspaper will testify: -

"In March, 1786, the convent of Sion, on the borders of Switzerland, was attacked by twenty-four villains who demanded the treasure thereof. The monks replied that their rents were ill-paid, and that at present they had very little stock, but they would show them where it was. Accordingly the robbers were shown upstairs where it was said to be, when, opening the door where the bloodhounds (?) were and giving them the word, they fell instantly upon the villains and tore some of them to pieces. The others, attempting to fly, were pursued and taken accordingly. These dogs are kept therefore for the preservation of the convent, and to find dead bodies in the snow; for many perish in attempting to cross the Alps, whose bodies are found by these dogs and receive decent interment.". I think the above quotation particularly interesting, especially as it is about the time when we appear to have little knowledge of the St. Bernard. It would be by no means difficult to bring about such a change in the duties of a hound, who, when seeking the dead bodies of travellers, would not unfre-quently discover other travellers who had not quite succumbed to the rigours of an Alpine storm, and so be the means of their preservation. Such cases occurring once or twice, and the kind-hearted monks would not be unwilling to discern that some refreshment placed around the neck of the dog would be seen and gratefully appreciated by the poor man who required such assistance.

It has been said that it was not until 1815 that the first St. Bernard was imported to this country, this being a specimen that went to Leasowe Castle, in Cheshire, the seat of the Cust family. Many years, however, passed over before the great dog began to force himself upon the public. Landseer painted him on one of his canvasses, but this great artist called him the Alpine mastiff. Still, even then, he was known as the St. Bernard; for I have an extract from a magazine dated 1843, in which it is said that a St. Bernard puppy, born in London, endeavoured during a severe winter to track the footsteps in the snow just as his parents might have done years before on the Alps, and what made this still more strange was the fact that until the snow fell the puppy had never before attempted anything of the kind.

Then Albert Smith, a celebrated entertainer a generation ago, who pleased our fathers, and ourselves in our childhood with his interesting lectures and panoramas, after one of his visits to the continent, returned with a couple of St. Bernard dogs from the Hospice. These he made a most attractive feature of his already pleasant show, introducing them in connection with Mont Blanc. This would be about 1850.

Still the dog of the Hospice did not attain popularity. The country was not at that time educated up to the pitch of dog shows; railway communication was not then what it is now, and, moreover, it is quite likely that had the general public wanted St. Bernards, they could not have obtained them in sufficient numbers to satisfy the demand. Canine history tells us that a distemper of a virulent character attacked the Hospice dogs about fifty or sixty years ago, and killed all with the exception of one animal. Again, earlier than this, an avalanche it is said proved almost equally fatal in its effects. In 1852 " Idstone " informs us that there were but three dogs at the Hospice, although seven or eight others were kept in some of the neighbouring villages. The latter must have been always the case, and one cannot believe that at any time during the history of this dog it was so near extermination that but a single specimen remained. It is a well authenticated fact, although one that has hitherto been almost, or entirely, overlooked by writers on the St. Bernard, that dogs of the race have from time out of mind been used in Switzerland and on its borders as beasts of burden.