The owner of the bloodhound which brought to justice Fish,
the murderer of Emily Holland, by scenting up the chimney where the poor little girl's skull was concealed, is going, it is said, to exhibit the dog,—for which he has already been offered £400,— for the benefit of the family of the murdered child, and of the wife of the murderer. This public craving to come into something like second-hand contact with so horrible a crime by means of any creature associated with it,—and it is this which gives the adventitious value to the dog,—is morbid and even revolting, and we suspect that its indulgence will do really more harm to the country than the benevolent application of the earnings, as proposed by the owner, can possibly do good. Evidently the people who flock to such exhibitions envy the bloodhound. The scent of the blood would be fragrant to them, if only they had the faculty to perceive it. The instinct of the bloodhound is a mysterious thing, but we must say we think the human race would do better to leave it entirely to the dogs, and not foster a very poor equivalent for it in our own nature. We should doubt, too, the good-taste of offering Mrs. Fish a share in the wages of this bloodhound's achievements.
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