Time is known to play grim jokes with historical monuments, but it probably has never burlesqued anything more than it has our national emblem, the British bulldog.

Evolved for a specific purpose - a purpose long since stamped out both by law and by sentiment - the present day examples can only be looked upon as the result of breeding for certain points not desired or found in any other kind of dog. That the bulldog can claim as great pretensions to antiquity as any other now so-called breeds is not to be denied; but to say that bulldogs are bred to-day on the same lines as they were even sixty years ago would be an assertion that could not by any evidence be defended.

Ancient writers have been quoted ad nauseam, but, interesting as these extracts may be as references to the early history of dogs in general, they bear no coherent testimony that the animals they refer to had more than a faint resemblance to the recognised type of bulldogs in 1893.

Evidence which is far more reliable is at our disposal in the pictures published towards the end of the last and the beginning of this century - the epoch when bull-baiting was in vogue - and, judging from these pictures, the bulldog of that time was but a phantom-like shadow of the animal the fin de Steele bulldog enthusiast has by patience succeeded in breeding.

Thus to him who, nowadays, wishes either to breed or to own an up-to-date specimen, it will be so much useless and embarrassing learning if he hampers himself with any considerations as to the outline and general appearance of what has been handed down to him regarding the animals his ancestors looked up to as bulldogs. Should he decide upon breeding bulldogs he will find, in order to produce a specimen at all approaching the modern ideal, that, instead of wasting time in pondering over the old type, he will have to employ that particular style of dog which may at the moment be in fashion.

He need have no misapprehension that the type in general will in the future change much, if at all; nor need he fear that the goal he is striving for will be advanced. For it must be remembered that the standard laid down for this breed has not materially altered during the last twenty years, though judges' decisions may have sometimes been at variance with, if not diametrically opposed to, the standard type. The very fact of there being now two bulldog clubs is a guarantee that no radical change in the standard will ever be permitted, as one or other of the clubs is certain to hover round so safe an anchorage as an established type. If either club sanctions what sensible men must know is a departure from what is correct, it is only reasonable to suppose that in the fulness of time that club will sink in public estimation.

The miasma of the breed is that the bulldog in popular opinion has for so long been regarded as the butcher's able assistant and the ruffian's faithful companion; but, owing to the interest its peculiar conformation affords to the science of breeding, it yearly gains more ground in civilised society by attracting the attention of men of better education.

However, before going right into the description of what a modern bulldog ought to be, some few particulars of his early history may be desirable, and it is said that the first record of bulldogs in England was in 1631, when one Prestwich Eaton, from St. Sebastian, wrote to George Wellingham, of St. Swithin's Lane, London, for a mastiff and two good bulldogs. But I believe that there must have been bulldogs in England long prior to the seventeenth century.

Bulldogs were ostensibly dogs for bull-baiting, and as this brutal diversion was known to be in vogue as early as 1209, there must have been bulldogs then. Such animals as were used for actual work were quite unlike the modern manufactured article, which has undoubtedly suffered by the discontinuance of the amusement. There was no use for him with bulls, so he had to be bred for fancy purposes alone. Huge, broad heads became the rage, legs widely bowed were in favour, and from an active dog, that was able to seize a bull by the nose and keep his hold there, he has come to be an animal that has to go in training at a seaside resort before he is able to walk four miles an hour.

I must write of dogs as I find them at the present time, and, to show the state to which an endeavour to breed for exaggeration in certain points has brought the bulldog, reproduce the following account of a walking match between two crack bench winners, which took place in the summer of 1893. There had been a brindled dog shown with extraordinary success at that time, for which his owner, Mr. S. Woodiwiss, was reported to have given £250 - the greatest amount of money ever paid for a dog of this variety. In the opinion of many persons he was so much a cripple as to be unable to stand properly in the ring, which was a fact. However, the judges under whom the dog in question came, appeared blind to his defects, and time after time he was placed over more perfect animals. Then a match was made between Dockleaf, the dog above alluded to, and another well-known prize-winning bulldog, called King Orry, owned by Mr. G. R. Murrell.

The novelty of the contest caused considerable interest to be taken therein, and it was arranged under the following conditions: "Each dog to be led and make the best of the way from the Roebuck Hotel, Lewisham, to Bromley Town Hall and back, the distance being about ten miles. The competitors might have as much rest as appeared desirable, but 'lifting' from the ground was disqualification. At seven o'clock, when the start was made, a big crowd was in attendance, a portion of which accompanied the dogs on their journey. King Orry went off with the lead, and was nearly 400 yards ahead when a mile or more had been traversed. Soon after Dockleaf showed signs of fatigue, but continued on his journey to a couple of miles from the start, when, being fairly beaten, Mr. Woodiwiss withdrew him from further competition his opponent was then far in front, and 'going well.' Mr. Murrell's dog, after a rest of seven minutes, arrived at Bromley Town Hall, and then set off on the return journey, Lewisham being duly reached at 9.25 p.m. Both animals had been in training for the match, and the winner showed no signs of distress after the accomplishment of what some modern admirers of the bulldog consider a great feat, but which we consider any bulldog ought to do equally satisfactorily. The loser occupied a trifle under forty minutes in covering his two miles, and, exclusive of stoppages, the winner progressed at the rate of some four and a half miles in the hour".