· The inhabitants of Holland and the Netherlands have long been accustomed to the use of dogs for purposes of draught. Pennant mentions, that in those countries they draw little carts to the herb-markets. In London, within these few years, the use of dogs in dragging light carts has become very general; and though their strength is rarely employed in combination, as is the case with the Esquimaux sledge-dogs, their energy makes them capable of moving very considerable weights. There are many bakers in the more populous parts of Lon. din who have travelling shops upon wheels, drawn by one or two stout mastiffs or bull. dogs. But the venders of cat's meat appear to have derived the largest benefit from this application of animal power. The pas. senger through the narrow streets and lanes of London is often amused by the scenes between the consumers of the commodity

rts appear

and those who bring it to the houses. At the well known cry of the dealer, the cats of a whole district are in activityanxiously, peeping out of the doors for the expected meal, aud sometimes fearlessly approaching the little cart, without apprehension of their supposed enemy who draws it.

The dogs attached to these carts annear to have no disposition to molest the impa. tient groups of cats who gather around them. The ħabit of considering dogs and cats as natural enemies has tended to the produc. tion of a great deal of cruelty. It is true that dogs will, by instinct, pursue anything which Aies from them; and puppies will thus run after, and frequently kill, chickens. But dogs, by chastisement, may be made to comprehend that nothing domestic must be molested. Beckford, a writer on hunting,

alludes to the circumstance of buck-hounds 3 playing with deer on a lawn, within an hour

or two after a chase of the same species. There is at present a tame doe in the streets of London, belonging to some person near St. Clement's Church-yard, which the pas. sing dogs never affront; and we have seen, some years ago, at Goodwood, the seat of the Duke of Richmond, a pack of fox-hounds, on their way to cover, go close to a fuxchained at the outer gate of their kennel, without taking the slightest notice of him.

This, at any rate, shews that dogs have Beide their instincts under subjection to the com. Lukt mands of their friend and master, man.

ney

GALATIANS vi. 14. But God forbid that I should glory, sare in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is erucified unto me, and I unto the world.

Nought will I glory in but this,

That Jesus died for me ;
For be my portion is, and bliss,

And will for ever be.
What shall I glory in beside,

Who nothing have or am ?
My boast is Jesus crucified-

My all in all—the Lamb.
In all my darkness, he is light,

In poverty my wealth;
In weakness, he is strength and might,

And in my sickness, health.
My Rock, my fortress, when pursued,"

My refuge, when oppressed ;
My company in solitude ;

In weariness, my rest.
Hungry and thirsty, he is still

My heavenly, living food;
In destitution, change and ill,

My soul's eternal good.
His death redeems my soul from hell,

His life my heaven ensures ;
When I shall rise with him to dwell

Long as his life endures.
What but his presence and his love

Can life or heaven be ?
And ere I rise to him above,

He gives them both to me. loTA.

THE SHEPHERD AND HIS BOY.

Shepherd. Come, Dick, make haste, but fasten well the "gate! How is it, lad ? why are you here so late ? Is aught amiss, or did you sleep too long?. The lark has long since done its morning song

Dick. No-all is right as far as I can tell ; I serv'd the cow, and fed the pigs as well, Then went along the lane to count the sheep, And “mother” called me, but I fell asleep.'

Shepherd. Aye, Dick ! full well the sluggard loves his

rest, And hates to leave þetime his downy nest; There was a time when I was young like you, I lov'd my bed, and lov'd my breakfast too; But little thought who earn!d it, how it came, Easy or hard to me were both the samne. Naught would I do but run about and play, For all my Granny, poor old soul, could say: There she would sit and spin till dark ‘at

night, Then rise again before the morning light; And often tell me that the time would come, When I must go to work and leave my home. Bụt come, my lad, and bring your basket

here, Beneath this pen we'll eat our homely cheer. To night I'll tell you of my days of youth, How long I wander'd, and when found the

truth, Meanwhlle think much upon the words

I've said ; He'll never thrive who spends bis days in

in ' Dick. . ..? I'll never be a“ noon a bed” again, But wake at peep of day like other men; Then run and climb the highest hill that's

near, To watch the rising sun thro' all the year.

Shepherd. That's right enough, butere the year is done, I fancy you'll forget the morning sun. I now must go to make a wasmer fold, To save my lambkins from the piercing cold, So now good bye, and mind you never stay, To loiter with your playmates by the way, : Go straight to school, and say your lesson

well, And learn to read without being forc'd to.

spell.

ON THE SYMPATHY OF JESUS.
How sympathizing and how kind

Was God's eternal Son!
Thur mis'ry reach'd bis heavenly mind,

And pity brought him down.

When justice, by our sins provok'd,

Drew forth his dreadfui sword; He gave his soul up to the stroke,

Without a murmuring word.

This was compassion like a God,

That when the Saviour knew
The price of pardon was his blood,
His pity ne'er withdrew. **

* Now, though he reigns exalted high,

His love is still as great; Well he remembers Calvary,

Nor lets his saiuts forget.

FOSTER, PRIN

KIRKBY LONSDALE