qualities. He must, I think, have been related to a certain dog to whom 'life was full o' sairiousness,' but in John's case the same cause produced an opposite effect. John was gay and light-hearted, even when there was not 'enuff o' fechtin,' which, however, seldom happened, there being a market every week

Nae mair the village throng delight,

Grim death has laid the minstrel law.

Now trouts, exulting, cut the wave;
Triumphant see the otter glide;
Their deadly foe lies in his grave,

Charley and Phabe by his side."'

David

I add another bit from Mr. White, too characteristic of that mixture of kindness and cruelty, of tenderness and pluck,-Dandie Dinmont, and of the exercise, called one-sidedly 'sport.' It ends happily, which is more than the big store-farmer wished :'The mother of the far-famed Peppers and Mustards was a dark-coloured, rough-haired bitch of the name of Tar. son wanted a cat from some of the cottages at a distance from Hindlee, that he might have the young dogs tried upon it. One of his shepherds chanced to call at Andrew Telfer's house (the grandfather, I believe, of my late friend), where he saw baudrons sitting on the end of a dresser near the door; and the house being low and dark, he swept her into his plaid-neuk on going out, and carried her home. Next morning she was introduced to a covered drain, which ran across the road, the said drain being closed up at one end, whereby she was compelled to give battle to her foes. A young terrier was the first to oppose her, and paid for its rashness by retreating from the drain with the skin almost torn from its nose. Another of the same age met with the same punishment, and Davidson, considerably irritated, brought forward Tar, the old dame, who, by her age and experience, he considered, would be more than a match for the cat. There was sore fighting for a time, till again Puss was victo

in Melrose, and John appearing most punctually at the cross to challenge all comers, and being short legged, he inveigled every dog into an engagement by first attacking him, and then falling down on his back, in which posture he latterly fought and won all his battles. What can I say of PUCK1-the thoroughbred

rious, and Tar withdrew from the conflict in such a condition that her master exclaimed, "Confoond the cat, she's tumblt an e'e oot o' the bitch!" which indeed was the case. "Tak awa the stanes frae the tap o' the cundy," said Davidson, "and we'll ha'e her worried at ance." The stones were removed, and out leapt the cat in the middle of her enemies. Fortunately for her, however, it happened that a stone wall was continued up the side of the road, which she instantly mounted, and, running along the top thereof, with the dogs in full cry after her, she speedily reached a plantation, and eluded all pursuit. No trace of her could be liscovered; and the next time the shepherd called at Andrew Telfer's house, my lady was seated on the dresser, as demure as il' nothing in her whole life had ever disturbed her tranquillity.'

1 In The Dog, by Stonehenge, an excellent book, there is a woodcut of Puck, and 'Dr. Wm. Brown's celebrated dog John Pym' is mentioned. Their pedigrees are given—here is Puck's, which shows his 'strain' is of the pure azure blood—‘Got by John Pym, out of Tib; bred by Purves of Leaderfoot; sire, Old Dandie, the famous dog of old John Stoddart of Selkirk— dam Whin.' How Homeric all this sounds! I cannot help quoting what follows-'Sometimes a Dandie pup of a good strain may appear not to be game at an early age; but he should not be parted with on this account, because many of them do not show their courage till nearly two years old, and then nothing can beat them; this apparent softness arising, as I suspect, from kindness of heart'-a suspicion, my dear Stonehenge,' which is true, and shows your own kindness of heart,' as well as

sense.

the simple-hearted-the purloiner of eggs warm from the hen-the flutterer of all manner of Volsciansthe bandy-legged, dear, old, dilapidated buffer? I got him from my brother, and only parted with him because William's stock was gone. He had to the end of life a simplicity which was quite touching. One summer day—a dog-day—when all dogs found straying were hauled away to the police-office, and killed off in twenties with strychnine, I met Puck trotting along Princes Street with a policeman, a rope round his neck, he looking up in the fatal, official, but kindly countenance in the most artless and cheerful manner, wagging his tail and trotting along. In ten minutes he would have been in the next world; for I am one of those who believe dogs have a next world, and why not? Puck ended his days as the best dog in Roxburghshire. Placide quiescas !

DICK

Still lives, and long may he live! As he was never born, possibly he may never die; be it so, he will miss us when we are gone. I could say much of him, but agree with the lively and admirable Dr. Jortin, when, in his dedication of his Remarks on Ecclesiastical History to the then (1752) Archbishop of Canterbury, he excuses himself for not following the modern custom of praising his Patron, by remind

ing his Grace 'that it was a custom amongst the ancients, not to sacrifice to heroes till after sunset.' I defer my sacrifice till Dick's sun is set.

I think every family should have a dog; it is like having a perpetual baby; it is the plaything and crony of the whole house. It keeps them all young. All unite upon Dick. And then he tells no tales, betrays no secrets, never sulks, asks no troublesome questions, never gets into debt, never coming down late for breakfast, or coming in by his Chubb too early to bed-is always ready for a bit of fun, lies in wait for it, and you may, if choleric, to your relief, kick him. instead of some one else, who would not take it so meekly, and, moreover, would certainly not, as he does, ask your pardon for being kicked.

Never put a collar on your dog-it only gets him stolen; give him only one meal a day, and let that, as Dame Dorothy, Sir Thomas Browne's wife, would say, be 'rayther under.' Wash him once a week, and always wash the soap out; and let him be carefully combed and brushed twice a week.

By the bye, I was wrong in saying that it was Burns who said Man is the god of the Dog-he got it from Bacon's Essay on Atheism, or perhaps more truly-Bacon had it first.

NOTES ON ART.

'The use of this feigned history' (the Ideal Arts of Poesy, Painting, Music, &c.) 'hath been to give SOME SHADOW OF

SATISFACTION TO THE MIND OF MAN IN THESE POINTS WHEREIN

THE NATURE OF THINGS DOTH DENY IT, the world being in proportion inferior to the soul; by reason whereof, there is, agreeable to the spirit of man, A MORE AMPLE GREATNESS, A MORE EXACT GOODNESS, AND A MORE ABSOLUTE VARIETY, than can be found in the nature of things. So it appeareth that Poesy' (and the others) 'serveth and conferreth to magnanimity, morality, and to delectation. And therefore it was ever thought to have some participation of divineness because IT DOTH RAISE AND ERECT THE MIND, BY SUBMITTING THE SHEWS OF THINGS TO THE DESIRES OF THE MIND; whereas reason' (science, philosophy) 'doth buckle and bow the mind to the nature of things.'-OF THE PROFICIENCE AND ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING.

'To look on noble forms

Makes noble through the sensuous organism
That which is higher.'-THE PRINCESS.

The statue' of the Duke Lorenzo by Michael Angelo' is larger than life, but not so large as to shock belief. It is the most real and unreal thing that ever came from the chisel.'-Note in ROGERS'S 'ITALY.' These two words, real and unreal, comprehend the philosophy of art; which proposes to itself the idealieing of the real, and the realizing of the ideal.