as may be imagined, her musical appreciation is entirely negative: if you sing with expression, and play with ability, she will remain cold and impassible. But let your execution exhibit the slightest defect, and you will have her instantly shewing her teeth, whisking her tail, yelping, barking, and growling. At the present time there is not a concert or an opera at Darmstadt to which Mr Frederick S- and his wonderful dog are not invited, or, at least, the dog. The voice of the prima donna, the instruments of the band, whether violin, clarionet, hautboy, or bugle, all of them must execute their parts in perfect harmony, otherwise Poodle looks at its master, erects its ears, shews its grinders, and howls outright. Old or new pieces, known or unknown to the dog, produce on it the same effect.

'It must not be supposed that the discrimination of the creature is confined to the mere execution of musical compositions. Whatever may have been the case at the outset of its training, its present and perfected intelligence extends even to the secrets of composition. Thus, if a vicious modulation, or a false relation of parts, occurs in a piece of music, the animal shews symptoms of uneasy hesitation; and if the error be continued, will infallibly give the grand condemnatory howl. In short, Poodle is the terror of all the middling composers of Darmstadt, and a perfect nightmare to the imagination of all poor singers and players. Sometimes Mr S and his friends take a pleasure in annoying the canine critic, by emitting all sorts of discordant sounds, from instrument and voice. On such occasions the creature loses all self-command, its eyes shoot forth fiery flashes, and long and frightful howls respond to the immelodious concert of the mischievous bipeds. But the latter must be careful not to go too far; for when the dog's patience is tried to excess, it becomes altogether wild, and flies fiercely at the tormentors and their instruments.

'This dog's case is a very curious one, and the attendant phenomena not very easy of explanation. From the animal's power of discerning the correctness of musical

composition, as well as of execution, one would be inclined to imagine that Mr S, in training his dog, had only called into play faculties existing-but latent-before, and that dogs have in them the natural germs of a fine musical ear. This seems more likely to be the case, than that the animal's perfect musical taste was wholly an acquirement, resulting from the training. However this may be, the Darmstadt dog is certainly a marvellous creature, and we are surprised that, in these exhibiting times, its powers have not been displayed on a wider stage. The operatic establishments of London and Paris might be greatly the better, perhaps, of a visit from the critical Poodle.'

ANECDOTE OF CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE.

THE following narrative, while it strikingly exhibits the fallible and uncertain nature of circumstantial evidence, affords also a convincing proof of the indispensable necessity of procuring medical testimony of the highest order, in all criminal cases relating to injuries of the person. The narrator, Mr Perfect, a surgeon at Hammersmith, sent the statement to the editor of the Lancet (Mr Wakley) in January 1839 :

'It is now thirty years ago, that, accidentally passing the Packhorse, Turnham-green, my attention was attracted by a mob of persons of the lowest order, assembled around the door of that inn, who were very loud in their execrations against some person who was suspected of having murdered his brother; in corroboration of which, I was told that his bones were found near the premises where he formerly resided, upon view of which a jury was then sitting, after an adjournment from the day preceding. I found that two surgeons had been subpœnaed to inspect the remains, and I had no doubt but that every information as to their character had been

obtained; curiosity alone, therefore, induced me to make way into the room, where I found that the coroner, and, I believe, a double jury, were sitting for the second day, and were engaged in an investigation which tended to shew that a farmer and market-gardener at Suttoncourt Farm, had, a few years before, a brother living with him, who was engaged in the farm, but whose conduct was dissolute and irregular to a degree that often provoked the anger of his elder brother, and sometimes begat strife and violence between them; that the temper of the elder brother was as little under control as the conduct of the younger; and, in fine, that they lived very uncomfortably together.

'One winter night, when the ground was covered with snow, the younger brother absconded from the house (for they both lived together), by letting himself down from his chamber window; and when he was missed the ensuing morning, his footsteps were clearly tracked in the snow to a considerable distance, nor were there any other footsteps but his own: time passed on, and after a lapse of some few years no tidings were heard of his retreat, nor perhaps have there ever been since. Some alterations in the grounds surrounding the house having been undertaken by a subsequent tenant (for the elder brother had then left the farm), a skeleton was dug up, and the circumstance appeared so conclusive that one brother had murdered the other, that the popular clamour was raised to the utmost, and a jury impannelled to investigate the case.

'After listening attentively to these details, I ventured to request of the coroner to be allowed to examine the bones, which I found were contained in a hamper-basket at the further end of the room, and I felt much flattered by his immediate compliance, for he desired the parish beadle, who was in attendance, to place them upon the table; and having myself disposed them in their natural order, I found that they represented a person of short stature, and from the obliteration of the sutures of the skull, and the worn-down state of the teeth, must have belonged

to an aged person. But what was my surprise when I reconstructed the bones of the skeleton, and found the lower bones of the trunk to be those of a female. I immediately communicated the fact to the jury, and requested that the two medical men who had before given their opinions might be sent for, one of whom attended, and without a moment's hesitation corroborated my report.

I need not add that the proceedings were instantly at an end, and an innocent man received the amende honorable, in the shape of an apology, from all present, in which the coroner heartily joined. It has since been proved beyond all doubt, that the spot where the bones were found was formerly the site of a large gravel-pit, in which hordes of gipsies not only assembled, but occasionally buried their dead, and perhaps more skeletons are yet to be found in that vicinity?

At the distance of thirty years, the narrator of this occurrence may well look back upon it with pleasure, and congratulate himself upon having been the happy instrument in the hands of Providence of rescuing a worthy and innocent man from the obloquy, and perhaps the fate, of a murderer.'

ANDREW ANDERSON.

RATHER more than one hundred years ago, there resided, in the town of Elgin, in the north of Scotland, a young woman named Marjory Gilzean. She was the child of decent parents, and possessed considerable personal attractions. About the time of the Rebellion of 1745-6, a foot-regiment was quartered in Elgin ; and in this regiment there was a private soldier named Anderson, a native of a neighbouring parish, who had recently been enlisted, and who became deeply smitten with love for Marjory Gilzean. She listened to his suit, and when the regiment was

removed, she left the town in his company, but not till a private marriage had taken place, though the contrary was believed at the time. Of her history in connection with the regiment, nothing is certainly known.

That her husband was sent abroad, whilst she was forced to remain behind-that he was killed in battle-and that he used her harshly, and cast her off-were various rumours, grounded probably on little more than mere surmise. Certain it is that, in or soon after the year 1747, she returned to Elgin, in an emaciated and distressed state, unsettled in her mind, and carrying a baby in her arms. Her parents, who, even though they could have been convinced of her having been married to the soldier, would still have regarded her as one who had brought discredit upon them, did not receive her in a forgiving spirit. Neither did the other persons who had known her in her better days like to shew any countenance to one whom they believed to have been little, if anything better than a wanton. The reception she met with, and the wild fancies of a wandering mind, induced her to take a strange step. Close beside the burgh are the yet majestic remains of an ancient cathedral, the area and precincts of which have continued since the Reformation to be

used as a burying-ground. Amidst these crumbling ruins there is one chamber still entire, a small cellar-like room, about five feet square, with scarcely any light, and which is said, in ancient times, to have been the sacristy, or place for keeping the vessels used in the offices of religion. Here the poor outcast took up her abode, rendered insensible, by her obscured reason, to the nocturnal horrors of a place which, in a better state of mind, she would have dreaded to approach after dusk. There was in this room an ancient sculptured font, which she used as a bed to her infant. Other furniture she had none. When it was known that she had gone to reside in this dismal place, the people felt as if it were an imputation against their Christian feelings. She and her babe were repeatedly carried by some one or other of them to their houses, but she always made her way back to the