A SCIENTIFIC DOG.

Among the many surprising stories that are told of the intelligence of the dog, the following one is given as a fact. A large dog was playing in a road near a country village, and a carriage went over one of his paws; he howled most piteously, and some farriers who were at work in a shop close by came out to see what was the matter. One of them, noticing that the poor animal was much hurt, took him up, dressed his paw and wrapped it up, and then let him go.

The dog went home, where he remained for some days. At length, his paw becoming painful, he returned to the farrier's, and holding it up, moaned, to show that it pained him. The farrier dressed it again; and the dog, after licking his hand as a sign of gratitude, returned home, and in a few days was

well.

Some months afterwards the same dog was frolicking with another not far from the spot, and a similar accident happened to the latter; upon which he took him by the ear, and with much difficulty led him to the farrier's shop where he himself had been so well doctored. The workmen were much amused at the sagacity of the animal, and paid as much attention to the new patient as they had to the former one. Bingley.

PARALLEL BETWEEN CROMWELL AND NAPOLEON.

The most superficial observers cannot have overlooked the general resemblances in the fortunes and character of Cromwell and of him who more recently, and upon an ampler theatre, has struck nations with wonder and awe. But the parallel may be traced more closely than perhaps has hitherto been remarked. Both raised to power by the only merit which a revolution leaves uncontroverted and untarnished, that of military achievements, in that reflux of public sentiment, when the fervid enthusiasm of democracy gives place to disgust

at its excesses and a desire of firm government. The means of greatness the same to both-the extinction of a representative assembly, once national, but already mutilated by violence and sunk, by its submission to that illegal force, into general contempt. In military science, or the renown of their exploits, we cannot certainly rank Cromwell by the side of him for whose genius and ambition all Europe seemed the appointed quarry; but it may be said that the former's exploits were as much above the level of his contemporaries, and more the fruits of an original uneducated capacity. In civil government, there can be no adequate parallel between one who had sucked only the dregs of a besotted fanaticism and one to whom the stores of reason and philosophy were open. But it must here be added, that Cromwell, far unlike his antitype, never showed any signs of a legislative mind, or any desire to fix his renown on that noblest basis, the amelioration of social institutions. Both were eminent masters of human nature, and played with inferior capacities in all the security of powerful minds. Though both, coming at the conclusion of a struggle for liberty, trampled upon her claims, and sometimes spoke disdainfully of her name, each knew how to associate the interests of those who had contended for her with his own ascendancy, and made himself the representative of a victorious revolution. Those who had too much philosophy or zeal for freedom to give way to popular admiration for these illustrious usurpers, were yet amused with the adulation that lawful princes showered on them, more gratuitously in one instance, with servile terror in the other. Both, too, repaid in some measure this homage of the pretended great, by turning their ambition towards those honours and titles which they knew to be so little connected with high desert. A fallen race of monarchs, which had made way for the greatness of each, cherished hopes of restoration by their power, till each, by an inexpiable act of blood, manifested his determination to make no compromise with that line. Both possessed a certain coarse good

nature and affability that covered the want of conscience, honour, and humanity; quick in passion, but not vindictive, and averse to unnecessary crimes. Their fortunes in the conclusion of life were indeed very different: one forfeited the affections of his people, which the other, in the character at least of their master, had never possessed; one furnished a moral to Europe by the continuance of his success, the other by the prodigiousness of his fall. A fresh resemblance arose afterwards, when the restoration of those royal families, whom their ascendant had kept under, revived ancient animosities and excited new ones,-those who, from love of democratical liberty, had borne the most deadly hatred to the apostates who had betrayed it, recovering some affection to their memory out of aversion to a common enemy. Our English republicans have, with some exceptions, displayed a sympathy for the name of Cromwell; and I need not observe how remarkably this holds good in the case of his mighty parallel.

Hallam.

LEARNING BY HEART.

Till he has fairly tried it, I suspect a reader does not know how much he would gain from committing to memory passages of real excellence; precisely because he does not know how much he overlooks in merely reading. Learn one true poem by heart; and see if you do not find it so. Beauty after beauty will reveal itself, in chosen phrase, or happy music, or noble suggestion, otherwise undreamed of. It is like looking at one of Nature's wonders through a microscope. Again: how much in such a poem that you really did feel admirable and lovely on a first reading, passes away, if you do not give it a further and much better reading!. passes away utterly, like a sweet sound, or an image on the lake, which the first breath of wind dispels. If you could only fix that image, as the photographers do theirs, so beautifully, so perfectly! And you can do so! Learn it by heart, and it is yours for ever!

I have said, a true poem; for naturally men will choose to learn poetry-from the beginning of time they have done so. To immortal verse the memory gives a willing, a joyous, and a lasting home. However, some prose is poetical, is poetry, and altogether worthy to be learned by heart; and the learning is not so very difficult. It is not difficult or toilsome to learn that which pleases us; and the labour, once given, is forgotten, while the result remains.

or

Poems and noble extracts, whether of verse prose, once so reduced into possession and rendered truly our own, may be to us a daily pleasure;-better far than a whole library unused. They may come to us in our dull moments, to refresh us as with spring flowers; in our selfish musings, to win us by pure delight from the tyranny of foolish castle-building, selfcongratulations, and mean anxieties. They may be with us in the work-shop, in the crowded streets, by the fireside, sometimes, perhaps, on pleasant hill-sides, or by sounding shores;-noble friends and companions-our own! never intrusive, ever at hand, coming at our call!

Shakspeare, Milton, Wordsworth, Tennyson,-the words of such men do not stale upon us, they do not grow old or cold. Further: though you are young now, some day you will be old. Some day you may reach that time when a man lives in greater part for and by memory. I can imagine a chance renewal, chance visitation of the words long remembered, long garnered in the heart, and I think I see a gleam of rare joy in the eyes of the old man.

For those, in particular, whose leisure time is short, and precious as scant rations to beleaguered men, I believe there could not be a better expenditure of time than deliberately giving an occasional hour-it requires no more to committing to memory chosen passages from great authors. If the mind were thus daily nourished with a few choice words of the best English poets and writers; if the habit of learning by heart were to become so general, that, as a matter of course, any person presuming to be educated amongst

us might be expected to be equipped with a few good pieces, I believe it would lead, far more than the mere sound of it suggests, to the diffusion of the best kind of literature, and the right appreciation of it, and men would not long rest satisfied with knowing a few stock pieces.

Lushington.

THE GEYSIRS.

The following day, we came upon a wide flat valley, along which we skirted till we began to see, at the distance of two or three miles, on a piece of sloping ground, under a small hill, a strange assemblage of masses of steam waving in the evening breeze. Our eyes became fixed, of course, on this object, which every minute had a different aspect. Presently, there shot up amongst the waving masses a column of steam, spreading at the top like a tree; and I then felt sure that we were at length approaching the object of our journey. Crossing the flooded meadow-ground, and passing a farm-house on the hill-face, we came, about ten o'clock at night, to the field which contains these wonderful springs. It was still clear daylight.

As the baggage horses, with our tents and beds, had not yet arrived, we sat quietly down to coffee, brewed in Geysir water; when suddenly it seemed as if beneath our very feet a quantity of cannon were going off underground. The whole earth shook. We set off at full speed toward the Great Geysir, expecting to see the grand water explosion. By the time we reached its brim, however, the noise had ceased, and all we could see was a slight trembling movement in the

centre.

Irritated at this false alarm, we determined to revenge ourselves by going and tormenting the Strokr. Strokr, or the churn, you must know, is an unfortunate Geysir, with so little command over his temper and his stomach, that you can get a rise out of him whenever you like. All that is necessary is to collect a