"I add another story of canine sagacity from Scotland.
" Don was a very handsome white setter, the property of the late Sir A. M., who lent him to my brothers for the. shooting season. Sir A. had many dogs in charge of his keeper, chained in kennels, and under regular sporting discipline. Our dogs passed their time at liberty, and, when not in the field, were lounging about on the lawn, or playing with the children.
"The Aberdeen term came on, and my brothers returned the setter to his master, whose house was about fifteen miles from ours. A few days after, as we went out in the morning, we found Don had returned; he sprang with every demonstration of joy to greet us, and by his side was a large Newfoundland dog, who also welcomed us with much cordiality. We were extremely pleased with our old friend and our new visitor; but in a few hours the gamekeeper arrived in great wrath, declaring the two dogs had run off together, utterly regardless of his calls; that they had always been particularly attached to each other, and that Don must have told the Newfoundland that there were no collars or chains in use with us. Collars and chains were produced then, the two friends were led home, and we saw them no more." (I: 100)

The next quotation is from George Cartwright's 'Coast of Labrador,' a voluminous and tedious work, but yet containing many points of interest, and which it is impossible to read without unbounded admiration of the indomitable stoicism of its hardy, intrepid, and humane author.
"Monday, 28 January, 1771.—In the evening Guy arrived here, and informed me that on Friday last he-should have accompanied Mr. Jones from Chateau to Seal Island, in his way to this place (in order to render that assistance to my maid servant Nanny, which she will soon stand in need of); but, as it was not convenient to him, Mr. Jones came off by himself: he added, that he had crossed the track of a man yesterday upon Niger Sound, who had gone down towards the sea. On hearing this I was much alarmed; for as Mr. Jones had not arrived at the island, I concluded that he must have lost his way, or some other misfortune befallen him.
"Tuesday, 29.—At daybreak this morning, I sent off two men across the country to Chateau, to enquire if Mr. Jones had returned back again ; I also sent another man with Guy to Niger Sound, to follow the track which he had observed there. In the evening, two of the Sealers arrived with a letter from Guy, informing me, that on Punt Pond he had met with the footsteps of a man (crossing into the track made by me and one of Guy's men, on Friday last) who had followed us to the end of the pond, and there broken a few boughs, upon which he supposed he had lain during the night, and gone forward again on Saturday morning. He pursued the track to the mouth of Niger Sound, and upon the north end of Round Island he found the unfortunate Mr. Jones frozen to death, with his faithful Newfoundland bitch by his side! He gave the poor creature what bread he had about him, but could not prevail on her to leave her master. He had been so imprudent as to leave Chateau, not only by himself, but also, without either a hatchet, provisions, tinder, or matches.
"It was evening, I suppose, when he met with my track, and he certainly did not know where he was; for had he taken it the other way, he might have reached my house in about an hour's good walking. The loss of this young man is the more to be regretted, as he was of a very amiable disposition, and likely to prove an ornament to his profession.
"Wednesday, 30.—At night three men arrived from Chateau in quest of Mr. Jones; they informed me, that two other parties also were out on the same business.
"Thursday, 31.—The Chateau men went off for Seal Island early this morning; from which place my man returned to day, accompanied by those whom I sent from Chateau; also another party from the same place, joined them upon the road. These people brought me what things they found in Mr. Jones's pockets, and informed me that they had covered I the corps with snow and boughs of trees; but could not prevail on the bitch to leave her deceased master." (I: 107-109)

The 'Band of Hope Review' of October, 1863, contains these admirable lines; which we ask leave to insert here: –

FOUL WEATHER. A SEASIDE SKETCH FROM REAL LIFE.

"The women weep, the children wail,
Scarce knowing why.
And men are watching (fix'd and pale)
A fishing smack, with dripping sail,
Just rolling nigh.

The surf leaps high upon the shore,
In cruel sport:
The wild winds in the caverns roar,
The weary fishers ply the oar
To gain the port.

The breakers crash, the seagulls screech;
No hope! No hope!
How is that fragile boat to reach
Across such surf, the shingly beach?
Oh for a rope?

'Tis vain. The boldest and the best
Turn back in fear:
The strongest swimmer dare not breast
Those breakers with the foamy crest,
For life is dear.

The surf leaps high upon the shore. –
So high! So high!
The boat obeys her helm no more;
The weary crew lay down the oar,
To die! To die!

Nay! man may fail, though wise and strong,
Yet God can save.
A brave Dog dashes from the throng,
And throws his shaggy length along
The boiling wave.

The billows suck him in. Ah me!
Not lost! Not lost!
Light as a buoy upriseth he,
And, battling with the greedy sea,
The surf hath cross'd.

No strange caprice, no desperate whim,
No senseless hope!
Round, round the boat they see him swim,
With pleading eye and struggling limb
'Fling him a rope!'

He grasps the hawser with his teeth;
His suit is won.
Back, back through surf and foamy wreath,
Through 'whelming surge, for life or death,
His task is done.

The rope is strong, the hands are stout;
'Ahoy! Ahoy!'
Like Ocean shell, the trembling boat,
Sore toss'd about, now in, now out,
Is hauled ashore, with cheer and shout,
And breathless joy!

Then women's tears of happiness
With praises blend:
And old men lift their hands and bless,
And strong men fondle and caress
Their shaggy friend." ** (127 - 128)

** This dog was a noble fellow of the Newfoundland breed. [Jesse's note]

"When my father and his family lived at Berry Head he had a large black Newfoundland dog, who rendered himself quite notorious in the neighbourhood from the regularity with which he attended the funerals. No sooner did the procession appear on the road leading to the church than the dog darted off at full speed. Having joined it he composed his demeanour, walked quietly up and took his place as chief mourner immediately after the coffin, and so accompanied it to the place of interment; thence returning quickly home when the ceremony was over." (132)

Dogs are known to form at times singular companionships. For example, Craven, in his 'Recreations in Shooting,' gives some anecdotes of a Newfoundland dog he possessed, in saving life and protecting property, and adds this charming one: –
"The same dog permitted a robin, through a whole winter, to take shelter in his den. It w as a most singular spectacle to witness; for so much familiarity, and, as it seemed, affection, grew up between them, that, while robin hopped and chirped about between his shaggy paws, or upon his head and body, our Newfoundland would stand or lie perfectly still, his small, brown eyes winking and blinking, and his well-clothed tail gently wagging to and fro with satisfaction." (134)

The kindness of a lady has obliged me with the next account, and anecdotes of her favourite. The latter part is of unusual interest, and is one of many things demonstrating to the inquiring mind that there are more things in heaven and earth than are even dreamt of in our philosophy.
"The following precisely truthful account is only, as it were, a page from a biography, which would be well worth while writing more fully. The subject of it is a Newfoundland dog, with a cross in the breed, which may perhaps be the secret of his more than common intelligence and docility. Though the dog is the hero of the story, yet as the human proprietor is the divinity in whom the dog's faith and devotion centre, it is necessary to premise that from a six weeks' old puppy I bad exclusively the control and education of this animal. Being an only daughter, and having few associates, I made the dog, perhaps in an unusual degree, my almost constant companion, and indeed, my friend. I smile to think what a strict disciplinarian I was in those young days, exacting and receiving the most implicit obedience; but as I never deceived, or cheated, or teazed the noble animal, his faith in me was as implicit as his obedience.
"Sometime about the age of eight or nine years, an illlooking wart formed on the edge of the left eyelid. It grew to a size at once unsightly, and distressing to the eye itself, which it pressed upon, occasioning much discomfort. Our doctor very obligingly offered to take it off, but the dog being by nature savage, he required him to be muzzled, a process which Neptune hated, and against which he had for long so openly rebelled, that it was not safe for any one to attempt it but myself. I accordingly put on the muzzle, and held the dog's head while our good friend cut off the offending part with a disagreeable pair of surgical scissors. All this was very unpleasant to me.
"In the course of another year, the excrescence grew again, and became as troublesome as before, and the animal's comfort rerpiired that it should be again taken off. The repetition of the former process, with all its delay and commotion, was very disagreeable to contemplate, and I thought it would cost us all less pain and anxiety if I were to perform the operation myself, for then no muzzling or formal preparation would be required, and I resolved to make the attempt.
"In front of the bay window of our dining-room there stood a comfortable old-fashioned sofa, with a high back. This I chose for the operating chair; caused a basin of hot water, towels, sponge, scissors, and caustic to be put on the table before it, called in the dog, bade him get on the sofa, and lay his head on the high back, so that the light should fall well on the eye, then kneeling by the side, with my arm round him to keep him steady, I proceeded to operate. I had over estimated my resolution, nerve failed me in the horrid movement of cutting through the soft flesh. I did the work badly, gave the dog pain, and only half removed the evil. Consequently, in a very few months more it grew again, and this time larger than before, and was even more troublesome, almost blinding the eye. There was no escaping the conviction that the thing must be done over again, nor was there any escape from the conclusion that I was still the best person to do it, if only I could summon nerve to use a resolute hand, and close the scissors boldly—a simple thing in imagination, but very repulsive to do. However, it was quite necessary that the eye should be relieved, and it was clear that if to be done, ' 'twere well 'twere done quickly.'
"I well remember the morning when I came to the resolution to hesitate no longer. It was an Ash Wednesday, and the act of penance seemed an appropriate coincidence; so confiding the intention hurriedly to a dear and very old servant and friend, I bade her bring in a basin with warm water, a sponge, atid towel, and then send in the dog. He came as usual, bounding joyfully into the room, and I invited him to get on the sofa, which he did readily enough ; but that higher elevation revealing to him the ominous preparations, which recalled to his mind the former affair, a sudden panic overcame him; he jumped hastily down, rushed to the shut door, and asked in his fashion to be let out, by barking most eagerly; and so great was his distress, that he scratched at the door, and tore up the carpet, trying all he could to force his way out. This was a most unexpected and perplexing turn of affairs. I would have given up the attempt instantly if it had been a less necessary case. For a moment I was quite at a loss what to do. I felt I must leave the matter to his free will. I would not coerce him. I could not have borne to drag him to his place of pain. With much concern, and very much in earnest, I went to him, and speaking as I would to a human friend, said, ' Why, Neptune, you know I would not harm you, it shall not bo done if you don't like. You shall go if you wish. But don't go. Come, trust to me. Good dog; make up your mind" and come.' The countenance with which the trembling animal listened was indescribably expressive and touching. ' Come,' I said once more, and put a finger in the iron ring of his collar, but not to draw or force. No force, indeed, was needed; he turned and walked gravely by my side, got up quietly on to the sofa, and laid his head on the back of it, as on the former occasion. I knelt down beside him as before, with the unconcealed scissors in hand, raised the eyelid, and had just prepared both heart and fingers to give the final cut, when I was interrupted, and all the arrangements were disordered for the moment, by his raising his head up from its right position to lick my face as I leaned over him. Naturally, I returned the salute, but this was only a momentary episode, for the melting mood was ill adapted to the work in hand, and with a very choking sensation, I told him he must not move again, but put down his head once more, and keep quite steady. I did not fail this time. Surely if the dog could do his part so well I ought not to shrink from mine. The necessary cut was made firmly, the ugly excrescence was off, and the dog, instantly sensible of the relief, bounded down, jumped upon me, and danced about, rejoicing and barking loudly. The commotion he made brought most of the family into the room, and the congratulations and rejoicings were general.
"There still remained more to be done: the bleeding had to be staunched, and the caustic applied; but there was no difficulty in this, though it invoked a return to the sofa, and a little further suffering. The only symptom of resentment the animal showed was rather amusing. After his eye had been bathed with the sponge, he seized upon that innocent agent, shook it angrily, and tore it, which we allowed him to do without any urgent interference in its favour.
"I may as well add, that this last excision was effectual for a long time. It was never repeated, for when the excrescence formed again, it spread so completely over the whole eyelid, that no further remedy was possible.
"I do not dwell very much on the various tricks and accomplishments with which it would be easy to fill a chapter, such as shutting a door or gate, and going back to latch it if not perfectly done; acting the game of ' Seek and find,' with a penny, or anything, hid in the most out-of-the-way place; asking for things, fetching and carrying, joining at the tea table with perfect decorum, answering of questions, and such like, because these things do not imply any peculiar development of what I may call moral intelligence and elevation of character, which were the especial characteristics that so distinguished this dog from others I have known. Some of these accomplishments I taught to other dogs, his successors, though with much greater pains and difficulty; and there was always this difference, that they required in some measure the word of command; whereas Neptune never needed to be asked in any other than an ordinary tone such as one would use to a docile child.
"Walking on the shore on one occasion with a companion who was quite a stranger to the dog, I happened to say to him,' You are very wet, suppose you roll on that sand and dry yourself.' My friend was startled when the dog proceeded at once to do so, rolling and shaking himself, and rolling again and again, till comfortably dry. Occasionally, people would remark that there was something uncanny and not natural in his evident comprehension of a conversation that might be going forward while he was lying on the rug or walking by one's side. I remember an anecdote in Lockhart's ' Life of Scott' concerning one of the Abbotsford favourites, which had overheard his master tell to a friend an incident to his (the dog's) disadvantage, and immediately slauk away ashamed. I have no difficulty at all in believing this, having seen several instances of the like kind, or even more remarkable, in the dog Neptune.
"The animal has been now long dead, but his memory is regarded by all who knew him well with something of the respect we should pay to a human subject. He certainly possessed one peculiar instinct which I have not noticed in any other case. Ho was given to me, as I have stated, when a little woolly object of six weeks old, sent by a dear and kind relative from a distance, in a basket, by the carrier. Some years after, the donor, my uncle, came to us, and naturally wished to see the dog, who at once showed very great delight on seeing him; lying down at his feet, and even licking his boots. This we thought remarkable, as the dog was savage, and disliked strangers, but we afterwards found that this recognition extended to all members of my father's family, whom he invariably at once greeted as friends, making them the only exceptions to the rule of receiving with distrust and dislike all strangers who went to him when chained up. We never could account for this peculiarity, but there was no mistake about it, and I can only conclude that it proceeded from an instinctive discrimination. My relatives on the mother's side did not share this distinction." (149-155)

That dogs communicate hereditary tendencies is proved by pointer puppies of a few months steadily standing fowls or game. In the 'Monthly Review,' vol. 48, p. 177, it is mentioned that " Philip Thicknesse had a Newfoundland dog, who had been taught a great many tricks on board a man-ofwar, and a puppy of hers," he says, " inherited many of them untaught." (156)

"A few days ago a dog of a most destructive nature infested the fells of Caldbeck, Carrock, and High Pike, about sixteen miles south of Carlisle. Little doubt remains of it being the same dog which has been so injurious to the farmers in the northern parts of Northumberland, as no less than sixty sheep or upwards have fallen victims to its ferocity. It was thought proper to lose no time in attempting to destroy it, and Tuesday last was fixed upon. Sir H. Fletcher, Bart., of Clea Hall, offered his pack of hounds, and several other dogs, with about fifty horsemen set out from Hesket Newmarket. Several persons with firearms were stationed at different parts. The dog was descried upon an eminence of Carrock-fell, and on sight of the pursuers set off by way of Hesket Newmarket, Stocklewath, and Barwick-field, then returned by Cowclose, Castle Sowerby, and attempted to gain the fells again, when Mr. Sewell, farmer at Wedlock, lying in ambush at Mossdale, fired and succeeded in shooting him. He appears to be of the Newfoundland breed, of a common size, wire-haired, and extremely lean. During the chase he frequently turned upon the dogs which were headmost, and so wounded several as obliged them to give up the pursuit.
"The joy manifested on this occasion was uncommon, insomuch that on the day following about thirty persons sat down to a dinner provided at Mr. Tomlinson's, Hesket Newmarket. Upon the most moderate computation, excluding the various windings, the chase could not bo less than thirty miles, and occupied no less than six hours."

Newcastle Courant, Sept. 21 (170-171)

" Mrs. M., of Abberley, had two dogs, a Dane and a Newfoundland; the former, Argus; the latter, Blanco, a magnificent fellow, pure white in colour, brave as a lion, and gentle as a lamb — the Dane, an irritable snappish creature, full of jealousy and envy, because he could not attain to the popularity of Blanco, yet possessing a warm, affectionate nature, especially towards children, to whom alone ho was gentle, loving, and kind; over whom he always kept watch, even in the night, lying 011 the mat at their nursery door, and if he heard a child moan in his sleep, would walk into the room, put his fore paws upon the bed, look earnestly in the child's face, and then walk back to his mat. Notwithstanding all this love, Blanco was preferred, and a deadly enmity ensued. He was constantly quarrelling with the white favourite, but could uot resist accompanying us when the children with Blanco took their walks. One day, we had strolled to Stamford Park, and came to a high paling; the boys and I managed to get over, as we wished to see the house where Mrs. Sherwood was born. To our great surprise Argus was over before us, and poor Blanco, after vainly struggling to accomplish the feat, and falling back as often as he attempted it, at length sat howling in despair. Argus looked at his enemy pitifully, and then began, with a peculiar bark, to run far away; Blanco looked after, distrusting the sound; Argus returned disappointed, made the same sound again, rushed off in the same direction, and again returned. The third time Blanco trusted him, and ran parallel with the fence; we followed: the sagacious creature had found a place which had been broken down, and the great dog got over easily, to the evident joy of his hitherto enemy; whose generous aid he seemed fully to recognise, and for the remainder of the walk they appeared the most affectionate friends." (173-174)

As hydrophobia is considered by some authorities not to be spontaneous, but to be always communicated, an instance of the former on board a man-of-war, for which I am indebted to a naval officer who witnessed the facts, will be of interest. The dog was a Newfoundland puppy, and about six weeks old when brought on board the ship at Portsmouth in the month of September, 1859. In November the ship sailed from England, and the dog grew and continued in perfect health while the vessel remained at Ascension; but at Sierra Leone, in the month of February, 1860, he showed signs of being unwell, suffering much from the heat. After moping some days, in the middle of February he became, in the opinion of the surgeon and all on board, raving mad; ran about the decks foaming at the mouth, and snapping right and left at every person and thing; scattering the men—they climbing the rigging and running anywhere to avoid him. He, after a little time, exhausted himself, and went into the chains and lay down, when a Krooman who volunteered the service took an opportunity to push him overboard.
The poor animal then swam to one of the boats which was at the boom; the man who was in it hauled him in, and he died almost as soon as he was got into it. The dog had never left the ship from the time he came on board, and could not have been in contact with any other dog, and it was believed the veiy great heat at Sierra Leone affected him. (196 - 197)

With a chain of provision-depots along the coast of Greenland, I could readily extend my travel by dogs. These noble animals form the basis of my future plans. My dogs were both Esquimaux and Newfoundland. The former were reserved for the great tug of the actual journeys of search. (226)
. . . .
Speaking of another sledge-journey, he says, –
"The spring-tides had broken up the ice, and the passage of the sledge was interrupted by fissures. The dogs (four Newfoundlands), began to flag; but we had to press them; we were only two men, and in the event of the animals failing to leap any of the rapidly-multiplying fissures, we could hardly expect to extricate our laden sledge. Three times in less than three hours my shaft or hinder dogs went in, and John and myself, who had been trotting alongside the sledge for sixteeii miles, were nearly as tired as they were. The dogs failed in leaping a chasm that was somewhat wider than the others, and the whole concern came down in the water. I cut the lines instantly, and, with the aid of my companion, hauled the poor animals out. We owed the preservation of the sledge to their admirable docility and perseverance. After many fruitless struggles, they carried it forward at last upon the ice, and we gained the ice-belt under the cliffs. The dogs slept in the tent with us, giving it warmth as well as fragrance. What perfumes of nature are lost at home upon our ungrateful senses! How we relished the companionship!"
The long dreary Arctic night had its influence on the dogs as well as the men: –
"This long intense darkness was most depressing. Even our dogs, although the greater part of them were natives of the Arctic Circle, were unable to withstand it. Most of them died from an anomalous form of disease, to which the absence of light contributed as much as the extreme cold. This morning, January 20, at five o'clock, I went on deck. It was absolutely dark; not a glimmer came to me through the ice-crusted window-panes of the cabin. While I was feeling my way, half puzzled as to the best method of steering clear of whatever might be before me, two of my Newfoundland dogs put their cold noses against my hand, and immediately commenced the most exuberant antics of satisfaction. It then occurred to me how very dreary and forlorn must these poor animals be, at atmospheres at + 10 degrees in-doorsand — 50 without,—living in darkness, howling at an accidental light, as if it reminded them of the moon,—and with nothing, either of instinct or sensation, to tell them of the passing hours, or to explain the long-lost daylight. They shall see the lanterns more frequently." (227 - 228)