ing. In drawing the sledges, if the dogs scent a single rein-deer, even a quarter of a mile distant, they gallop off furiously in the direction of the scent; and the animal is soon within reach of the unerring arrow of the hunter. They will discover a sealhole entirely by the smell, at a very great distance. Their desire to attack the ferocious bear is so great, that the word nennook, which signifies that animal, is often used to encourage them, when running in a sledge; two or three dogs, led forward by a man, will fasten upon the largest bear without hesitation. They are eager to chase every animal but the wolf; and of him they appear to have an instinctive terror which manifests itself on his approach, in a loud and long continued howl. Certainly there is no animal which combines so many properties useful to his master, as the dog of the Eskimaux.

The dogs of the Eskimaux lead always a fatiguing, and often a very painful life. In the summer they are fat and vigorous; for they have abundance of kaow, or the skin and part of the blubber of the walrus. But their feeding in winter is very precarious. Their masters have but little to spare; and the dogs become miserably thin, at a time when the severest labor is imposed upon them. It is not, therefore, surprising that the shouts and blows of their drivers have no effect in preventing them from rushing out of their road to pick up whatever they can descry; or that they are constantly creeping into the huts, to pilfer any thing within their reach: their chances of success are but small; for the people within the huts are equally keen in the protection of their stores, and they spend half their time in shouting out the names of the intruders (for the dogs have all names,) and in driving them forth by the most unmerciful blows

The hunger which the Eskimaux dogs feel so severely in winter, is somewhat increased by the temperature they live in. In cold climates, and in temperate ones in cold weather, animal food is required in larger quantities than in warm weather, and in temperate regions. The only mode which the dogs have of assuaging or deceiving the calls of hunger, is by the distention of the stomach with any filth which they can find to swallow. The painful sense of hunger is generally regarded as the effect of the contraction of the stomach, which effect is constantly increased by a draught of cold liquid. Captain Parry mentions that in winter the Eskimaux dogs will not drink water, unless it happen to be oily. They know, by experience, that their cravings would be increased by this indulgence, and they lick some clean snow as a substitute, which produces a less contraction of the stomach than water. Dogs, in general,, can bear hunger for a very long time, without any serious injury, having a supply of some substance for the distension of their stomachs.

ON THE DEATH OF A FRIEND.
Friend after friend departs;

Who hath not lost a friend?

There is no union here of hearts

That finds not here an end;
Were this frail world our final rest,
Living or dying none were blest.

Beyond the flight of time,

Beyond the reign of death, -
There surely is some blessed clime
Where life is not a breath;
Nor life's affections, transient fire,
Whose sparks fly upwards and expire.

There is a world above,
Where parting is unknown;
A long eternity of love,

Formed for the good alone;
And faith beholds the dying, here,
Translated to that glorious sphere'

Thus star by star declines,
Till all are past away;

As morning high and higher shines,
To pure and perfect day;

Nor sink those stars in empty night,

But hide themselves in heaven's own light.

MONTGOMERY

EXCESS IN THE PURSUIT OF KNOWLEDGE.

The principal end why we are to get knowledge here, is to make use of it for the benefit of ourselves and others in this world; but if by gaining it we destroy our health, we labor for a thing that will be useless in our hands; and if by harassing our bodies, (though with a design to render ourselves more useful,) we deprive ourselves of the abilities and opportunities of doing that good we might have done with a meaner talent, which God thought sufficient for us, by having denied us the strength to improve it to that pitch which men of stronger constitutions can attain to, we rob God of so much service, and our neighbor of all that help, which, in a state of health, with moderate knowledge, we might have been able to perform. He that sinks his vessel by overloading it, though it be with gold and silver and precious stones, will give his owner but an ill account of his voyage.-Locke.

A HAPPY RETORT.

The obscurity of Lord Tenterden's birth is well known; but he had too much good sense to feel any false shame on that account. We have heard it related of him, that when. in an early period of his professional career, a brother barrister, with whom he happened to have a quarrel, had the bad taste to twit him on his origin; his manly and severe answer was, "Yes, sir, I am the son of a barber; if you had been the son of a barber, you would have been a barber yourself."

RESTORED VIEW OF POMPEII.

It is certainly surprising, that this most interesting city should have remained undiscovered until so late a period, and that antiquaries and learned men should have so long and materially erred about its situation. In many places masses of ruins, portions of the buried theatres, temples, and houses were not two feet below the surface of the soil; the country people were continually digging up pieces of worked marble, and other antique objects; in several spots they had even laid open the outer walls of the town; and yet men did not find out what it was, that peculiar, isolated mound of cinders and ashes, earth and pumice-stone, covered. There is another circumstance which increases the wonder of Pompeii remaining so long concealed. A subterranean canal, cut from the river Sarno, traverses the city, and is seen darkly and silently gliding on under the temple of Isis. This is said to have been cut towards the middle of the fifteenth century, to supply the contiguous town of the Torre dell'Annunziata with fresh water; it probably ran anciently in the same channel. But, cutting it, or clearing it, workmen must have crossed under Pompeii from one side to the other.

As you walk round the walls of the city, and see now the volcanic matter is piled upon it in one heap, it looks as though the hand of man had purposely buried it, by carrying and throwing over it the volcanic matter. This matter does not spread in any direction beyond the town, over the fine plain which gently declines towards the bay of Naples. The volcanic eruption was so confined in its course or its fall, as to bury Pompeii, and only Pompeii: for the shower of ashes and pumice-stone which descended in the immediate neighborhood certainly made but a slight difference in the elevation of the plain.

Where a town has been buried by lava, like Herculaneum, the process is easily traced. You can follow the black, hardened lava from the cone of the mountain to the sea whose waters it invaded for " many a rood," and those who have seen the lava in its liquid state, when it flows on like a river of molten iron, can conceive at once how it would bury every thing it found in its way. There is often a confusion of ideas, among those who have not had the advantages of visiting these interesting places, as to the matter which covers Pompeii and Herculaneum: they fancy they were both buried by lava. Herculaneum was so, and the work of excavating there, was like digging in a quarry of very hard stone. The descent into the places cleared is like the descent into a quarry or mine, and you are always under ground, lighted by torches.

But Pompeii was covered by loose mud, pumicestone, and ashes, over which, in the course of centuries, there collected vegetable soil. Beneath this shallow soil, the whole is very crumbly and easy to dig, in few spots more difficult than one of