conceived; as it may be supposed that the fat of one sheep in a day would not satisfy his hunger. The farmers were so much alarmed by his depredations, that various means were used for his destruction. They frequently pursued him with hounds, grey-. hounds, &c.; but when the dogs came up with him, he laid down on his back, as if supplicating for mercy; and in this position they never hurt him; he therefore laid quietly, taking his rest till the hunters approached, when he made off without being followed by the hounds, till they were again excited to the pursuit, which always terminated unsuccessfully. It is worthy of notice, that he was one day pursued from Howick to upwards of thirty miles distance, but returned thither and killed sheep the same evening. His constant residence during the day, was upon a rock on the Heughhill, near Howick, where he had a view of four roads that approached it; and in March, 1785, after many fruitless attempts, he was at last shot there."

Now, to say nothing of the ruse whereby he regularly saved himself from his pursuers, this was very like communing with himself, and, as a result, taking up the best possible position for his security under existing circumstances, a position which enabled him to baffle his enemies for upwards of a year :—what is this if it be not reason?

One more illustration of this part of our subject. In the West of England, not far from Bath, there lived, towards the close of the last century, a worthy clergyman, who was as benevolent as he was learned. There were turnspits in those days-a most intelligent set they were, and Toby, who was an especial favourite, was a model of the breed, with legs worthy of the Gow Chrom himself, upon which he waddled after his master every where, sometimes not a little to his annoyance; but Toby was a worthy, and he could not find it in his heart to snub him. Things, however, came at last to such a pass, that Toby contrived somehow or other to find his way to the reading-desk on a Sunday, and when the door was opened, he would whip in, well knowing that his reverend patron was too kind and too decorous to whip him out. Now, though it has been said, that

"He's a good dog that goes to church,"

the exemplary Dr. B., who thought he had traced a smile upon the countenance of some of his parishioners on these occasions, felt the impropriety of the proceeding: so Toby was locked up in the stable on Sunday morning; all to no purpose, however, for he scrambled through the shut window, glass, lead and all, and trotted up the aisle after his annoyed master as usual. Matters were now getting serious; so as soon as he had on the

Saturday caused the beef to revolve to a turn which was to be served cold for the Sunday dinner-for the good man chose that all around him should find the sabbath a day of rest-Toby was taken out of the wheel, and his dinner was given to him; but instead of being allowed to go at large to take his evening walk after it, Molly, to make sure of him, took him up by the neck, and putting him into the wood hole where window there was none, drew the bolt, and left him therein. Toby revenged himself by "drying up the souls" of the whole family with his inordinate expostulatory yells during the whole of the remnant of Saturday and the greater part of Sunday. However, there was no Toby dogging the heels of the surpliced minister, and it was concluded that the sufferings that the doggie and the family had undergone, would have their effect. Well, the week wore on, Toby as amiable and as useful as ever, without a particle of sullenness about him-into the wheel went he right cheerfully, and made it turn more merrily than ever; in short, parlour, kitchen, and all were loud in his praise. However, as it drew towards twelve o'clock on the Saturday, Toby was missed. Poor Molly, the cook, was at her wit's end.

"Where's that vexatious turnspit gone?"

was the question, and nobody could answer it. The boy who cleaned the knives was despatched to a distant barn where Toby was occasionally wont to recreate himself after his culinary labours, by hunting rats. No-no Toby. The sturdy thrashers, with whom he used sometimes to go home under the idea, as it was supposed, that they were the lords of the rat-preserve in the barn, and who being fond of Toby in common with the whole village, used occasionally to give him

"A bit of their supper, a bit of their bed,"

knew nothing of him. Great was the consternation at the Rectory. Hints were thrown out that "The Tramps” in the green lane had secreted him with the worst intentions, for he was plump and sleek, but their camp was searched in vain. The worthy family retired for the night, all mourning for Toby: and we believe there is no doubt that when the reverend master of the house came down on Sunday morning his first question was, "Any tidings of Toby ?"-A melancholy "No, sir," was the answer. After an early breakfast, the village schools were heard-their rewards distributed, not without inquiries for Toby—and when church-time came, it is said that the rector, who walked the short distance in full canonicals, looked over his shoulder more than once. He passed through the respectful country-people collected

in the little green grave-yard, who looked up to him as their pastor and friend, he entered the low-roofed old Norman porch overhung with ivy, he walked up the aisle, the well-filled pews on either side bearing testimony that his sober-minded flock hungered not for the excitement of fanaticism, he entered the readingdesk, and as he was adjusting his hassock, caught the eye of Toby twinkling at him out of the darkest corner. Need we say more, than that after this, Toby was permitted to go to church, with the unanimous approbation of the parish, as long as he lived. Now if this was not calculation on the part of Toby, we know not what else to term it, and we could refer our readers to well-authenticated stories in print—as our dear old nurse used to say when she was determined to silence all incredulity-that go as far, and even farther, to show that these animals can calculate intervals of time.

It is this intellectuality, joined with their individuality-for no two dogs are alike—that makes them such admirable subjects for the gifted hand of Edwin Landseer. It is said that dogs have been taught to utter, after a fashion, one or two simple words, not exceeding two syllables; however this may be, no one, we apprehend, who has seen The Twa Dogs can doubt that they converse. When we "look around the walls," as the patronizing orators say at the annual festival in Trafalgar-square, and catch the Promethean fire infused into the portrait of A Respectable Member of the Humane Society and others, his fellows, we suspect that a few of the gentlemen-ay, and ladies too-who have paid for having their faces mapped and hung on those same “ walls, sigh occasionally as their eyes rest on the beautifully characterized doggies, and feel an irresistible preference for the Cynic school. The Mahommedans were forbidden to represent either man or other animals; and the prohibition, if we mistake not, arose from a tradition that those who are hardy enough to make the attempt will be called upon, hereafter, to put a soul into every one of their representations or else: if there be any foundation for this creed, what an awful future awaits some of our exhibiters.

Another consequence of the intellect manifest in our friends, the dogs, and the almost human affections that belong to them, is, that superstition has conferred upon them a sort of immortality. To say nothing of "Cerberus," of the poor Indian's “equal sky,' or the "Tomalins," and other black-dog familiars of the ages of witchcraft, we have the Mauthe Doog of the Manksman, the Fiend Hünd of Faust, and the Hell-hound of Britain. As the dog was supposed to be gifted with the power of seeing spirits when they were invisible to man, it is no wonder that we have spectrehounds, or that our ghostly enemy himself should have been sup

posed in those dark and disgraceful times to which we have alluded, to have condescended to put on the shape of the most sagacious of four-footed beings, one that the ancient Egyptians worshipped as a god.

The variety of form and colour in the races of dogs is infinite. Contrast the mastiff with the spaniel-place the St. Bernard dog -the great Thibet watch-dog-that of Spain, or the gallant Scotch deerhound, by the side of our rector's Toby, or one of that curious family of French-not Dutch-pugs, and it seems almost incredible that they should be all of one species. Yet the most acute observers have failed, and, in our opinion, always will fail, to seize on any character which shall be found to warrant specific distinction.

We have heard the little French dogs, above mentioned, libelled as being useless; but they have very winning ways, and gain upon you, till they almost become little friends. The great luxury of their life seems to consist in being nursed in the lap,that of a lady for choice,—and for this they will sit up, and beg as pertinaciously, as other dogs will for food. The hound has been sung in every language since Cadmus taught his dragonlads the alphabet. The bloodhound, and the greyhound, have been immortalized by our best poets, ancient and modern; a Newfoundland dog was the friend of Byron, and Scott had his Maida. There is hardly a great dog, from that of Ulysses downwards, that has not had his eulogist; but these little dogs are a despised generation, and though they may suffer by our pen, we venture a word or two, by way of introducing them to our readers, the more especially as none of them appear to have sat to Edwin. If they had, we would gladly have left their character in his hands. Very fine neat limbs, very high foreheads, prominent expressive eyes, long ears, which they erect, so as to look a little like Fennecs, a tight-curled tail, and a very close fine coat, are their characteristics: the true-bred and handsome ones show a great deal of blood. They are most intelligent and affectionate, and understand in a very short time whether the conversation relates to them, though not addressed to them, nor carried on in an altered tone—as indeed is the case with most sensible dogs.

It was amusing to see three of these little dogs in company with Rundy, a beautiful beagle, especially when a splendid fellow of a French pointer was occasionally admitted into the party. The well-educated pointer, who could do every thing but talk as they say, was ordered into a chair, where he sat with a most becoming gravity, and there, wrapped in a cloak, and with his foraging cap, jauntingly cocked over one eye, and a roll of paper in his mouth for a cigar, he looked much more manly than the whey

faced bipeds who pollute our streets and add their mouthful of foul smoke to "the fog and filthy air" of this reeking town. When the little lapless dogs on the carpet saw this, they would surround his chair, sitting up in the usual begging position, and hoping, apparently, that among his other accomplishments, he had learned the all-soothing art of nursing. Rundy generally took this opportunity of securing the best place on the rug, where he lay stretched out on his side, before the fire. The suppliants finding that the Frenchman in the chair made no sign, and that they could produce no impression on the flinty hearts of the rest of the company, to each of whom, in succession they had sat up, adjourned one after the other, and after sitting up for a moment to the recumbent Rundy, sat down upon him, looking, as a friend once said, like a coroner's jury sitting on the body; and indeed, Rundy, who was good-tempered and used to the operation, lay as still as if he had been no longer of this world. They seemed to have the greatest objection to resting on the floor, richly Turkey-carpeted though it was. When they were thus seated looking at the fire, with their backs to the company, the words, Well, you may come," uttered without any particular emphasis, would bring them all in a moment bounding into the laps of the speakers. At night they were always on the look out for a friend who would take them to bed, otherwise the mat was their portion. At the well-known "au lit, au lit," they would rush from the snuggest of laps, and gambol before you to your bedroom. As soon as they entered it and were told, "you may go into bed," they would creep in between the sheets at the top, and work their way down to the bottom, where they would lie all night at your feet, without moving, unless a particularly favoured Lilliputian was permitted to come up and lay its head on the pillow or your arm.

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That these faithful creatures should be subject to the most frightful and fatal of diseases—a disease which they too frequently communicate in their madness to their beloved master or mistress, is one of those inscrutable dispensations that sets all our philosophy at nought.

The chamber of a human being, writhing under hydrophobia, is a scene never to be forgotten by those who have had the misfortune to witness it. There lies the wretched victim under a certain sentence of death-death the most dreadful! His unsteady glistening eye wanders over the anxious faces that surround him; the presence of any liquid-the noise of pouring it out—a polished surface-or anything that suggests the idea of it—even the sudden admission of a cold current of air, bring on the most agonizing paroxysms of spasm in the throat. Oh! to see him strong in