It is an opinion of Mr. Grantley Berkeley, and perhaps of others, that it is a mistake to suppose that one species of dog has greater sagacity than another. But to this notion we are not inclined to assent. We are disposed to think that a greater portion of strong natural sense is manifested in the larger kinds of dogs, as the Newfoundland and the mastiff, than in the smaller. First of all we shall give a few examples, for most of which we are indebted to Mr. Jesse, of intelligence in the Newfoundland dog. Of such examples, as he observes, an almost infinite number might be collected.
A lieutenant in the navy informed Mr. Jesse that while his ship was under sail in the Mediterranean, a canary bird escaped from its cage, and flew overboard into the sea; when a Newfoundland dog belonging to the vessel, seeing the bird drop, jumped into the water and swam up to it, and then, taking it in his mouth, swam back with it to the ship. When the dog came on board, and opened his mouth, it was found that the bird was perfectly uninjured, the dog having carried it as tenderly as if he were quite aware that the slightest, pressure would destroy it.
Mr. Youatt relates, that as he was going one day to open a gate, to pass from one part of his premises to another, he saw a lame puppy lying just within, so that he could not push back the gate without rolling the poor animal over, and adding to its sufferings. As he was hesitating what to do, and thinking of going round by another gate, a Newfoundland dog, which was waiting within, and which Mr. Youatt was wont to caress as he passed, saw, as he glanced at the lame dog, the cause why Mr. Youatt delayed to enter, and putting out his great strong paw, gently rolled the invalid out of the way, and then drew back himself to allow room for the gate to open. In acting thus the dog evidently reasoned within himself, and decided what was requisite to be done in the case before him. [ note ]
One of the late chaplains of the embassy at Lisbon brought to England with him a dog of the Newfoundland breed, so large that he was obliged to be taken from Torquay to London by sea, as no coach would convey him . He was very gentle, but perfectly well aware of his own strength, for when the waiter of the hotel at Torquay spoke harshly to him and tried to prevent him from going where ha wished, he felled the man with one stroke of his paw, but without hurting him, and passed on. On the third day of his stay at the hotel he wanted water, and not being able to find any, went to the kitchen, took up a pail in his mouth and carried it to the pump in the yard, where he sat down till one of the men-servants came out, to whom he made such significant gestures that he pumped the pail full for him; and when he had drunk enough he carried the pail back to the place in the kitchen from whence he had taken it. His proceedings were witnessed by the gentleman who related them. [ note ] Is any other instance known of a dog having restored a thing to its place, of its own accord, after having used it?
Mr. Jesse also speaks of a Newfoundland dog that used to attend his master's wife and sisters when they went abroad; and if they were unaccompanied by any gentleman, he always walked before them, obliging any crowd that they might encounter to make way for them, but, if a gentleman was with them, he always walked retiringly behind.
A gentleman of Mr. Jesse's acquaintance, shooting one day, attended by a keeper, killed a hare, which had run through a hole at the bottom of a stone wall. The keeper sent a sagacious old dog of the Newfoundland breed to fetch the hare. The dog brought the dead animal in its mouth to the wall, over which he attempted to jump, but after several attempts, found that his load rendered him unable to do so. Desisting from his ineffectual efforts, therefore, he laid down the hare by the hole, through which he pushed it as far as he could with his nose, and then leaping over the wall, dragged it through on the other side, and brought it to his master. From the high ground on which the gentleman and his keeper stood they were able to see distinctly the whole of his proceedings. [ note ]
The following contrivance on the part of a dog is of a similar nature. A friend of Mr. Jesse's was shooting wildfowl with his brother, accompanied by a Newoundlander, and coming to some reeds at the side of the river, they threw down their hats, the better to conceal themselves as they approached their game. After firing, they sent the dog for their hats, one of which was smaller than the other, and the animal, after several vain attempts to bring them both together in his mouth, at last placed the smaller hat in the larger one, pressed it down with his foot, and thus brought them with ease. "Extraordinary as this anecdote may appear," says Mr. Jesse, "it is strictly true, and strongly shows the sense, and I am almost inclined to add, the reason, of the Newfoundland dog." [ note ]
Great circumspection was shown by a dog of this kind which was in the habit of stealing from a kitchen that had two doors opening into it; for he would never indulge his thievish propensity if one of them was shut; but if both were open, he understood that the chance of escape was doubled, and readily seized what he could.
Similar precaution was exhibited by a Newfoundland dog, the mother of two whelps, which she had suckled till it was time for them to be weaned, but which were constantly following and annoying her for milk when she had little to give them. She was confined at night in a shed, which was divided from another by a wooden partition some feet high, and into this she conveyed her puppies, leaving them there by themselves, that she might enjoy her night's rest in the other shed undisturbed. [ note ]
A vessel containing eight men was driven by a storm on the beach at Lydd in Kent, when the surf was raging with such fury that no boat could be got off to her assistance. At length a gentleman came forward, attended by his Newfoundland dog, into whose mouth he put a stick, and pointed in the direction of the vessel. The dog readily understood what he was expected to do, and sprang into the sea. He fought his way courageously through the rolling waves, but was unable to get close enough to the vessel to deliver that with which he was charged. The crew, however, seeing what was intended, fastened a piece of wood to the end of a rope, and threw it towards him. No human being could have comprehended more quickly what he ought to do than did the sagacious dog; he instantly dropped his stick and seized the wood which had been thrown to him, and then, with almost incredible strength and perseverance, dragged the rope attached to it through the surge, and brought it to the hands of his master. A line of communication was thus formed, and the whole crew saved. [ note ]
A Newfoundland dog, belonging to a grocer in a large way of business, had observed one of the porters of the house, who had frequent occasion to go into the shop, take away money from the till and carry it into the stable to hide it. After seeing several such thefts, the dog became restless, and often pulled persons by the skirts of their coats, as if he wished them to do something for him. At last, noticing an apprentice enter the stable one day, he followed him, and going up to a heap of rubbish, scratched at it with his paws till he had uncovered the concealed money. The apprentice brought the hoard to his master, who marked the pieces of coin, and afterwards restored it to the hiding-place. But some of it was soon after found upon the porter, who was thus convicted of the theft. [ note ]
A dog belonging to Mr. Garland, a magistrate at Harbour-de-Grace, in Newfoundland, was in the habit of carrying a lantern before his master at night, bearing it along as steadily as the most attentive servant could have done, and making a halt whenever he ceased to hear his master's footstep behind him. If, moreover, when his master was from home in the evening, the lantern were given him with the command, "Go, fetch your master !" he would set off immediately for the town, which was a mile from Mr. Garland's residence, and would stop at the door of every house which he knew his master frequented, setting down the lantern and barking at the door, till he had discovered where his master was. His recollection of the houses as he went his round was always most accurate. [ note ]
A gentleman at York had one of these large dogs, which had great sagacity in fetching and carrying articles. Sometimes the gentleman, on purchasing an article in a shop, and finding it inconvenient to take it away with him at the time, would call the dog's attention to it, and, after finishing his other business in the town, would tell his dog to go and fetch it. The intelligent animal never failed to return with the right article in his mouth. One day his master bought a brush in a shop, pointed it out to Carlo in the usual way, and sent him some time afterwards to fetch it. Unluckily the shopman had not detached the brush from the cord connecting it with a number of others, and the dog ran off with a whole string of brushes, dragging them vigorously along the street. The shopman pursued; but the dog gave him to understand that he had better not take possession; nor did he stop till he had laid the whole number at the feet of his master. [ note ]
Smellie, in his 'Philosophy of Natural History,' relates that a man who went through the streets of Edinburgh ringing a bell and selling pies, gave one to a large dog belonging to a grocer of that city. The next time the dog heard the pieman's bell, he ran impetuously towards him, seized him by the coat and forbade him to pass. The pieman showed him a penny, and pointed to his master, who stood at the street-door observing what was going on. The dog now, by all the means in his power, pleaded with his master for a penny, and, on receiving one, carried it in his mouth to the pieman, who gave him a pie. This matter of buying and selling was daily practised for several months.
Colonel Hutchinson relates that a lady, a cousin of one of his brother-officers, was walking out one day at Tunbridge Wells, when a Newfoundland dog, quite strange to her, came up to her side and snatched her parasol out of her hand, carrying it off in his mouth. She of course followed him, but he did not hurry away; he only kept a little ahead of her, looking back from time to time to see if she were coming. At last he stopped at a confectioner's shop and went in; the lady went after him, and tried to take her parasol from him, but he refused to let it go. She then applied for assistance to the shopman, who told her that it was an old trick of the dog's, and that she would not be able to get the parasol from him without giving him a bun. The bun being offered, the parasol was readily given up. This proceeding, if it proved the dog inclined to extort ion rather than honesty, certainly manifested great intelligence in him. It is of the same class with that of the dog that stopped the pieman, and both seem to have acted from their own original thought.
Lord Eldon had a Newfoundland dog, which, he said, not only showed dejection for some time before his master left home, but pleasure in anticipation of his return for some days before it was to happen. He wrote an epitaph on him, of which the following is the conclusion: —

"To his rank among created beings
The power of reasoning is denied;
Caesar manifested joy
For some days before his master
Arrived at Encombe;
Caesar manifested grief
For days before his master left it;
What name shall be given
To that faculty
Which thus made expectation
A source of joy,
Which thus made expectation
A source of grief?" [ note ]

A gentleman was staying at Worthing, where his Newfoundland dog was teased and annoyed by a small cur, which snapped and barked at him. This he bore without appearing to notice it for some time, but at last the Newfoundland dog seemed to lose his usual patience and forbearance, and he one day, in the presence of several spectators, took the cur up by his back, swam with it to the sea, held it under the water, and would probably have drowned it, had not a boat been put off and rescued it.
There was another instance communicated to me. A fine Newfoundland dog had been constantly annoyed by a small spaniel. The former, seizing the opportunity when they were on a terrace under which a river flowed, took up the spaniel in its mouth, and dropped it over the parapet into the river." [ note ]
The following anecdote is given by Dr. Abell in his 'Lectures on Phrenology' and repeated by Mr. Youatt.[ note ]
A Newfoundland dog in the city of Cork had been greatly annoyed, as he passed along the streets, by a number of noisy curs, of whom, however, for a while he took no notice. But one of them, more forward than the rest, at length carried his presumption so far as to bite the Newfoundland dog in the back of his leg. The large animal, provoked beyond endurance, instantly sprang round, ran after the offender, and seizing him by the skin of his neck, carried him to the quay, when, after holding him suspended over the water for some time, he at last dropped him into it. But he had no intention to drown him, or to inflict on him more than a mild punishment, for after he had been well ducked and frightened, and was beginning to struggle for life, his chastiser plunged into the flood and brought him safe to land.
Dr. Hancock, noticing this anecdote in his 'Essay on Instinct,' says, "It would be difficult to conceive any punishment more aptly contrived, or more completely in character. Indeed, if it were fully analysed, an ample commentary might be written in order to show what a variety of comparisons and motives and generous feelings entered into the composition of this act."
Baby, a Newfoundland dog at Windsor, well known, for a long time, to every inhabitant of the place, was often much exposed, as he slumbered in front of the hotel to which he belonged, to the attacks of all sorts of curs, but though he never tamely submitted to an insult from a dog approaching his own size, he seemed to think that a pat from his heavy paw was sufficient punishment for any inferior assailant, for his gentleness was equal to his courage. [ note ] (79 -81)

. . . .

The Rev. J. G. Wood says that a Newfoundland dog belonging to one of his friends seized a little dog, by which he had been some time tormented, in his mouth, and the sea being at hand, swam out with the animal to some distance from the coast, dropped it in the water, and left it to make its way back again if it could. He tells also a similar anecdote of another Newfoundland dog, who, being assaulted and at last pinned by the nose by a little pugnacious bull-terrier, which could not be made to relax its hold, walked up to a pailful of boiling tar that happened to be near, and deliberately let down the terrier into it. The terrier escaped, but not without a severe scalding.
A Newfoundland dog, at the town of Honiton, in Devonshire, used to lie several hours every day before the entrance to the Golden Lion Inn, to which he belonged. As he was reposing, there used frequently to go by a little ill-conditioned cur, which never passed without barking and yelping at the larger dog, for the purpose of insulting him. The Newfoundland dog bore the annoyance a long time with apparent indifference, but one day he rose up deliberately, seized the cur by the neck, carried him across the street, and dipped him into a pond of water, in which he kept him immersed over head and ears for some seconds, when he lifted him out, laid him down on the kerb-stone, and walked back with dignified slowness to his usual place of rest. It may be supposed that the cur never insulted him again. But the meditated purpose of the larger dog to punish his annoyer without seriously hurting him, and the deliberate execution of that purpose, assuredly showed great reasoning powers in the animal. (81-82)

The following," says Mr. Blaine, [ note ] "we can venture to vouch for the truth of, for we received it from the owner of the dog, and the dog itself we also saw many times. A gentleman of fortune, a native of Germany, boarded and lodged with a clergyman with whom we were well acquainted. This gentleman had with him a large dog of the Newfoundland breed, of the most engaging qualities, and to which he was so attached, that, wherever he went, whatever sum he agreed to pay for his own board, he always tendered half as much for that of his dog, that thereby he might secure him the treatment which his fidelity so well merited. Travelling in Holland, the German one evening slipped from off the bank of a large dike into the water below, which was both wide and deep. Being wholly unable to swim, he soon became senseless; and when restored to recollection, he found himself in a cottage on the opposite bank of the dike to that from which he fell, surrounded by persons who had been using the Dutch means of resuscitation. The account he received from two of them was, that, returning home, they saw a dog swimming at a distance, seemingly employed in dragging, and sometimes pushing, a mass he appeared to have much difficulty in keeping above water, but which mass he at length succeeded in forcing into a small creek, and next drew it on land. By this time the peasants had advanced sufficiently near to discover that the object of his solicitude was a man, whom the dog, exhausted as he must have been, immediately set about licking the hands and face of. The peasants hastened across by the nearest bridge, and having conveyed the body to a neighbouring cottage, and applied the usual Dutch means of resuscitation, the fleeting spark of vitality (thanks to the fidelity and intelligence of the dog) was soon restored to the full flame of life. It remains to add, that the body of our friend, when first stripped, was found to be deeply indented by the teeth of the dog, both in the nape of the neck and in one of the shoulders, and these scars he used to show with much satisfaction; and nothing could shake his firm conviction, that his dog had first suspended him by the shoulder, but that, finding his head was not elevated above the water, he had shifted his hold to the nape of his neck, for the express purpose of so elevating it. And, however we may hesitate to attribute this change of position to a motive so intrinsically intellectual, yet we must respect the error, if it was one, for where is the mind that might not be warped by such a debt? If our memory be correct, it was near a quarter of a mile that the dog had to swim with his master's body before any creek offered; and, when arrived there, he had still to drag it on a bank."

When Mrs. Lee's father was a child, he was one day missed, and traced to a deep pond in the garden. A large Newfoundland dog, much attached to him, was called, and some of the boy's clothes shown to him, while the person who held them pointed to the pond. The dog instantly understood what was meant, dashed into the water, and in a short time brought out the boy, who had been bathing, and had sunk beneath the water and was quite senseless. The dog watched the efforts made to restore animation, and at last, when he was thoroughly dried, got into the bed with the child as if to communicate warmth to him.[ note ]
The Newfoundland dog is ready, not only to save persons from drowning, but from destruction by land. It is a well-authenticated anecdote that when a child one day, in crossing one of the principal streets of Worcester, sloping towards the Severn, fell down in the middle of it, and would have been crushed by a horse and cart advancing, a Newfoundland dog rushed to its rescue, caught it up in his mouth, and conveyed it in safety to the foot pavement. [ note ] (121)

The following anecdote was communicated to Mr. Jesse by a friend who witnessed the occurrence, and on whose veracity, he says, he could place the strictest reliance. A large Newfoundland dog, belonging to a gentleman near Southampton, with whom Mr. Jesse's friend was on a visit, had formed a friendship with a horse, which was kept in a paddock near the house. The dog, hunting one day by himself, was caught in a snare by the leg, and after struggling some time, during which his cries were heard, he disengaged himself so far as to break the string of the snare, though the wire still remained attached to the leg. In this condition he was seen by Mr. Jesse's friend and his host to go to the horse in the paddock, whom he seemed at once to make aware of his distress. The horse gently put down his nose, which the dog licked, lifting up, at the same time, the leg to which the snare was attached, with an intention which could not be mistaken. The horse immediately applied his teeth to the snare, in a gentle and cautious manner, and endeavoured to detach it, but was unable to succeed. [ note ] (133 -134)

A gentleman who had a country-house near London, discovered, on arriving at it one day from town, that he had brought away a key which would be wanted by the family, and sent an intelligent Newfoundland dog, which had been accustomed to carry things, back with it. The animal, as he was passing along with the key, was attacked by a butcher's dog, to whom, at the time, he offered no resistance, but got away from him. When he had safely delivered the key, however, and was returning to his master, he stopped deliberately before the butcher's shop, and when the dog again sallied forth, attacked him with the utmost fury, and did not quit his hold of him till he was lifeless. The dog's first object was to guard the key entrusted to him, and his next to avenge himself. (181).

Similar sagacity was shown by a Newfoundland dog mentioned by the Rev. J. G. Wood. A gentleman who was at Clifton on a visit to some friends went out for a walk on the Downs, where he sat down to read, and became so interested in his book, that he forgot, when he rose, to take up his gold-headed cane. He had a Newfoundland dog, whom he had left at the house where he was staying, and to whom, as soon as he returned, he made signs that his cane was lost, and that he must go and seek for it. Shortly after the dog was dispatched, he was called to take his seat at the dinner-table. Just as the second course appeared, a noise was heard in the hall, and the dining-room door being opened, the dog burst in with the cane in his mouth, in spite of the servants' efforts to prevent him, determined to deliver it to no one but his master.

. . . .

A Newfoundland dog, as M. Blaze relates, was so highly valued by his master for his fidelity and intelligence, that one day, when he was riding out with a friend, and the dog following, he assured his companion that if he left any article behind him, and made the animal aware whereabouts it was deposited, he would return, whatever might be the distance, and fetch it without fail. As the other gentleman expressed some doubt, it was agreed that a marked shilling, being first shown to the dog, should be placed under a large stone by the roadside, and that, when they had ridden three miles further, the dog should be sent back to bring it. This was accordingly done; and the two gentlemen then rode off homewards, but, to their great concern, the dog did not overtake them ; nor did he make his appearance till four o'clock the following morning, when he came crying to his master's door, with the shilling, and something besides, in his mouth. On inquiries being made respecting his doings, it was discovered that he had gone to the place where the shilling was deposited, but had found the stone too heavy for him to move, and that in consequence he had sat by it howling till two horsemen came up, who, being attracted by the dog's cries, lifted the stone, and one of them, observing the shilling, and not knowing that it was the object of the dog's anxiety, picked it up and put it into his pocket. They then remounted their horses, and went on ; but the dog followed them for twenty miles, entered with them into the inn where they stopped, and secreted himself under one of the beds in a double-bedded room in which they were to sleep. The possessor of the shilling hung his trousers on a peg by the bedside; and the dog, as soon as the men were both asleep, seized the trousers, leaped out of the window, which was left open on account of the heat, and ran with them in his mouth, mile after mile, till he reached the house of his master. In the pockets were found a watch and some money, for which an advertisement was offered, and thus the dog's adventures were brought to light. (186-187)
It might be wished that the names of the actors in this affair were known; for the story seems scarcely credible. We can hardly conceive that the dog, who would of course keenly watch the raising of the stone, would have suffered the gentleman so easily to possess himself of the shilling, or, when he was possessed of it, would have allowed him, knowing that he had it about him, to ride off with it unopposed. The concealment of the dog, too, under the bed, without attracting the notice of either of the inmates, is a circumstance rather beyond belief. The story is characterized in the 'Quarterly Review' as "too good to be true." [ note ]

Mrs. Lee had a fine Newfoundland dog, extremely good-natured and trustworthy, named Lion. "The great defects in his disposition," she says, "were heedlessness, and an under-estimate of his own power. He did not stop to think before he acted, as many more cautious dogs will do; and he forgot that his weight was so great as to spoil and crush whatever he laid himself upon. As an instance of the former, he one day fancied he saw some one whom he knew in the street, and immediately dashed through the window, smashing not only the glass, but the frame-work. Directly he had done it he felt he had been wrong, and, returning through the shattered window, which was opened for him, he hung his head and walked unbidden to a recess in the room covered with matting, to which place he was always banished when. naughty, and seated himself. The bell was rung for the housemaid to come and clear away the broken glass, and, as the woman smiled when she passed Lion, I turned my head towards him. There he sat, with a pair of my lippers, accidentally left in the room, in his mouth, as if he thought they would obtain his pardon. My gravity was disturbed, and Lion, seeing this, humbly came up to me, and rested his chin on my knees. I then lectured him concerning the mischief he had committed; and he so perfectly understood, that, for a long time, when any one pointed to the window, he would hang his head and tail, and look ashamed. During my absence he constantly collected articles which belonged to me, and slept upon them. One day, on returning from church, he met me on the stairs, dragging a new silk dress along with him by the sleeve, which he must have contrived, by himself, to have abstracted from a peg in a closet." [ note ] (189-190)

But these instances of intelligence seem to be surpassed by that of Dandie, a Newfoundland dog belonging to Mr. M'Intyre, of Edinburgh, which, however, appears to have been sedulously instructed. He would select his master's hat or penknife from a number of others, or a card chosen by his master from a whole pack; and pick out any article, which he might have been told to find, from a multitude of others belonging to the same person, showing that he was not guided by smell, but a sense of what was required of him. One evening a gentleman, sitting in company with some friends at Mr. M'Intyre's, accidentally dropped on the floor a shilling, which, after a diligent search, could not be found. Dandie, during this proceeding, had been sitting in a corner of the room, apparently unconscious of what was going on; and at last Mr. M'Intyre said to him, " Find us the shilling, Dandie, and you shall have a biscuit;" when the dog instantly jumped up, and laid the shilling on the table, having picked it up and kept it in his mouth, unperceived by the party. On another occasion his master, returning home when the family were gone to rest, could not find his bootjack, and told Dandie to look for it. The dog immediately scratched at the room-door, which his master had shut, and, when he was let out, went off to a distant part of the house, and returned with the bootjack in his mouth; and Mr. M'Intyre then recollected that he had left it there under a sofa.
Some gentlemen were in the habit of giving Dandie occasionally a penny, which he would carry to a baker's and exchange for bread. One of them, not having given the dog a penny for some time, was accosted by him with signs of supplication, when he said, "I have not a penny with me to-day, but I can find one at home." He then returned to his house, and soon after heard a noise at the door, and Dandie, when it was opened, sprang in for his penny. The gentleman, by way of frolic, gave him a bad one, for which the baker refused to give him a loaf; and the dog returned with it to the house, and laid it down at the feet of the servant who opened the door, with an air of disdain. But it was remarkable that he did not spend all his money, though it was for a long time unknown what he did with it. One Sunday, however, a day on which it was unlikely that he would receive money, he came home with a loaf; and Mr. M'Intyre desired the servant to look whether any money was lying about. Dandie watched her motions, but seemed quite unconcerned till she approached one of the beds, when he caught hold of her dress and gently drew her back. As she sought there the more, he growled and struggled, and his master was obliged to secure him; and the woman then found sevenpence-halfpenny hid in the bed under From that time the dog showed dislike of the woman, and hid his pence in the corner of a sawpit, under a heap of dust.

The following instance was communicated to Mr. Jesse on the authority of the late Lord Stowell. Mr. Poynder, brother of the Treasurer of Christ's Hospital, on returning from Newfoundland, brought with him a dog of that country, to whom on two occasions, when he had lost his way during snow-storms, he had been indebted for enabling him to find his way home, and thus probably saving him from death. There was a strong attachment between the dog and his master; yet Mr. Poynder, not caring to take him to England, had made arrangements for leaving him behind; but the dog, after Mr. Poynder had embarked, escaped from those who had charge of him, and swam after the ship, overtaking it at three miles' distance from the coast. Mr. Poynder, on landing at Blackwall, took the dog with him to his father's house at Clapham, where he was placed in a stable, and kept in it till the second day after his arrival, when Mr. Poynder took him in a coach to Christ's Hospital. Leaving the coach in Newgate Street, Mr. Poynder proceeded up the passage leading to the Treasurer's house, but not finding Mr. West, another friend of mine, knew a case of a dog be1ng carried from Limousin in France to Geneva, a distance of more than two hundred miles, and finding its way back. It was a lap-dog, and was taken in a carriage by the Baroness Eivet, to whom it belonged. No one suspected that when it was once lodged in Geneva, it would think of running away. But in a few days after its arrival the dog had vanished, and in a week or two it was found at Limousin, having made its way back, by what art is inexplicable, to its former abode. The following instance was communicated to Mr. Jesse, on the authority of the late Lord Stowell. Mr. Poynder, brother of the Treasurer of Christ's Hospital, on returning from Newfoundland, brought with him a dog of that country, to whom on two occasions, when he had lost his way during snow-storms, he had been indebted for enabling him to find his way home, and thus probably saving him from death. There was a strong attachment between the dog and his master; yet Mr. Poynder, not caring to take him to England, had made arrangements for leaving him behind; but the dog, after Mr. Poynder had embarked, escaped from those who had charge of him, and swam after the ship, overtaking it at three miles' distance from the coast. Mr. Poynder, on landing at Blackwall, took the dog with him to his father's house at Clapham, where he was placed in a stable, and kept in it till the second day after his arrival, when Mr. Poynder took him in a coach to Christ's Hospital. Leaving the coach in Newgate Street, Mr. Poynder proceeded up the passage leading to the Treasurer's house, but not finding the entrance on the side open, went round to the front door. In the excitement of meeting his friends, from whom he had been long absent, he forgot his dog for awhile, but, as soon as he recollected him, hastened forth to bring him in. The dog, however, was nowhere to be seen; Mr. Poynder gave him up for lost, and prepared an advertisement, in the latter part of the day, offering a reward for his restoration. But next morning he received a letter from the captain of the ship in which he had sailed from Newfoundland, stating that the dog had swum to the vessel on the preceding day, and was then safe on board. By a comparison of the time at which he disappeared from Newgate Street with that of his arrival at the vessel, it was clear that he must have gone directly from Christ's Hospital to Wapping, and have at once taken to the water. How he could have found his way among the wilderness of houses, through ground that was altogether strange to him, is beyond the power of man to explain. (311-312)