but in yain; and, after digging a little, a trap-door was seen, which, when opened, led into a place where the skins and remains of the poor sheep were found.

The Blood-hound was sometimes used in the West Indies to trace out any unfortunate slave who had run away from his master; but, as the slave-trade is now abolished, that is, put an end to, it is to be hoped there will be no slaves in the course of some years.

The Greyhound is remarkably elegant in his form. His sense of smelling is not acute; but he is so swift, that when he pursues the hare, he never loses sight of the poor terrified animal.

The Spaniel and the Pointer are both used for shooting.

The Poodle is extremely intelligent, and seems kept only for the amusement of his master. He may be taught easily to fetch and carry, open a door, poise a stick on his nose, jump up at the word of command, and many other tricks.

The Lap-dog is the least interesting of all the tribe; yet some ladies are so foolishly fond of it, that they have as much care taken in washing and combing the little beast, as if it were a child. Indeed, there have been instances of dogs of this class being pampered with chickens and every dainty. It is to be hoped that they are rare. It is not only silly, but wicked, to lavish on a brute money that might be bestowed on the poor. What can that person say in palliation of her sinful extravagance, who has allowed a poor neighbour to starve, whilst she has fed her Dog on delicacies! There is a wide difference between such absurd indulgence, and a proper care of the animals Providence entrusts to our protection.

The Newfoundland Dog is a large noble creature, very sagacious, and most faithful in his attachment to his master. A Dog, something of this kind, is employed in a country named Kamtschatka, to draw sledges over the ice.

The Terrier is a small, snappish, black dog; but is particularly mentioned here, to record the sagacity and attachment of one individual. A poor old woman, during a heavy fall of snow, went to the next market town, accompanied only by her little dog. The snow had drifted, and she, mistaking the road, fell, and was overwhelmed by it. The terrier returned home to his master, and pulled his coat, and tried every means in his power to make him go to the assistance of his perishing wife. The stupid old man drove the faithful creature away. He then went to a neighbour's house, and succeeded in getting an old friend of his mistress, who knew the Dog, to follow him. When he came to the spot, he scratched with his feet, and his companion guessed the fact. She went for assistance, but by the time the poor old woman was dug out, she was quite dead. Probably, if the master had had half the sense the Dog had, his wife might have been saved.

It is not unusual to see people go about with dancing Dogs: these are a set of half-starved animals, dressed up in petticoats, and taught, by dint of blows, to dance and play many antics. Their strange attitudes may make children laugh, but never can please any one who reflects on the means that have been used to make them learn these tricks. The same may be said of the learned Dog, who knows his letters, &c.

The nobleness, generosity, and gratitude of the Dog, may often make man blush. The Dog never forgets the master who feeds, protects, and caresses him. How often does man entirely forget his great and benevolent Creator, who daily loads him with blessings !

REFLECTIONS ON RETIRING TO REST.

Ir is good, when we lay on the pillow our head,
And the silence of night all around us is spread,
To reflect on the deeds we have done thro' the day,
Nor allow it to pass without profit away.

A day—what a trifle !—and yet the amount
Of the days we have spent forms an awful account,
And the time may arrive when the world we would
give,

Were it ours, might we have but another to live.

In whose service have we through the day been employ'd,

And what are the pleasures we mostly enjoy'd!
Our desires, and our wishes, to what did they tend,
To the world we are in, or the world without end?

Hath the sense of His presence encompass'd us round,

Without whom not a sparrow can fall to the ground! Have our hearts turn'd to Him with devotion most true, Or been occupied only with things that we view?

Have we often reflected how soon we must go
To the mansions of bliss, or the regions of woe?
Have we felt unto God a repentance sincere,
And in faith to the Saviour of sinners draw near?

Let us with ourselves solemn conference hold, Ere sleep's silken fetters our senses unfold; And forgiveness implore for the sins of the day, Nor allow them to pass unre pented away.

IMPROPER REWARDS.

PARENTS should never promise their children any reward for doing right, or from refraining from doing wrong. A sea-captain was once so unwise as to promise the sailors in a storm, that if they would exert themselves, he would reward them with additional wages when the storm was over. They made an unusual effort, and received the reward; and the consequence was, that he could never afterwards get them to do their duty in a storm without a reward being promised. In the same manner, if parents begin by rewarding their children to do right, they will not afterwards do right without being rewarded.

The following are similar examples, but on different subjects. The second was written by a pupil in a female school.

THE SAVIOUR'S THIRST ON THE CROSS.-The sufferings of Christ's body on the cross, as well as those of his soul, were great, and among them his dreadful thirst. This was probably occasioned by the violent fever produced by the inflammation of his bodily wounds. I met with the following passage to-day, in the narrative of a soldier, which may perhaps illustrate

this subject.

"I remember well as we moved down in column, shot and shell flew over and through it in quick succession. We sustained little injury from either, but a captain of the twenty-ninth was dreadfully lacerated by a ball, and lay directly in our path. We passed close to him; he knew us all; and the heartrending tone in which he called to us for water, or to kill him, I shall never forget. He lay alone, and we

were in motion, and could give him no succour, for on this trying day, such of the dying as could not walk, lay unattended where they fell. All was hurry and struggle; every arm was wanted in the field."

DECEIVING CHILDREN. Returning from school yesterday afternoon, my attention was arrested by the loud voice of some one addressing a child; I turned, and as I walked very leisurely, I overheard the following conversation :—

Lady. John, do leave off playing in the snow; see your clean clothes now, and your shoes are filled with

snow.

John. I don't care for that, I shall still play here as long as I choose.

Lady. You little impudence, I don't love you, I don't love you at all.

John. Well, that's no matter.

Lady. I'll go off, then, good night. I am going to the jail.

She turns round, and walks down the street a little distance.

Lady. You see I'm going, John.

John. I don't care if you are.

Presently she walked slowly back, and came up to John, at the same time he gave a hearty laugh, saying, "I thought you were going to the jail."

I had now got so far as not to be able to hear what more they said, and I could not help pitying the child, who thus early was taught to disobey his superiors, for surely it is nothing less.

Many parents, and even brothers and sisters, complain of the conduct of the younger members of their families, while they are continually treating them in this manner; they certainly need expect nothing better from them, while they endeavour thus to deceive them.

The above examples illustrate well what I mean by turning knowledge to account, drawing from it the