On this watch-tower in which he placed his security, he was at last shot.

The true house-dog is more amiable, and equally efficient. It has been absurdly affirmed that his value is proportioned to his timidity, because he is thereby rendered doubly clamorous, from his anxiety to obtain protection for himself. But such a dog is of as little service in indicating danger, as an alarm-bell would be that was rung unceasingly. He barks at every thing - the wind and the moon, as well as the thief, and either keeps you in perpetual terror, or teaches you to neglect his warnings altogether. Neither is there no alternative between silence and cowardice. Every one that has had to do with dogs, must be well aware that many breeds which give a loud alarm, are models of bravery. In general, however, the quiet dog, like the quiet soldier, is the most determined. The house-dog is capable of being brought by education, to any degree of perfection. From his kennel in the court-yard, he distinguishes the habitual inmate from the occasional visitor, the visitor from the stranger, the stranger from the thief, as is easily gathered from his monitory bark.

His hearing is probably the principal sense by which he conducts this delicate analysis, recognising the step of those who frequent the house, and with others discerning the firm and honest tread of innocence from the doubtful, hesitating, stealthy pace of timid guilt. His temper is too often soured by his being con stantly chained, and then he becomes indiscriminate in his attacks, and is liable to fly upon any body he can reach. But when judiciously treated, he is a rare combination of fidelity to his master and humanity to others. It is no uncommon thing for him to attend the thief through the premises, without on the one hand permitting him to touch a single article, or on the other, attempting to molest or detain him. Still, where the intention is clearly criminal, the courtesy of the dog is by no means to be reckoned on; for if he forbears to bite, he is apt to drive the depredator into a corner, and keep him shivering with fear and cold, till assistance is procured. When his master is in question, his courage rises to a pitch of heroism. Petrarch had a dog that snatched a naked sword from the hand of a villain who attacked him.

Some thieves in France, laid one night a leg of mutton on the road, to detain the dog of a traveller, whom, when he had got some distance from his protector, they robbed and murdered. The dog arrived from his repast before the thieves had escaped, and engaged them in battle. It was in vain they fired at him. He continued to fight till he strangled one, and drove the other into a tree, at the foot of which he steadfastly remained till the officers of justice relieved him of his prisoner on the following day.

A long train of anecdotes attest the retentive memory of the dog for the assassin of his master, and the vengeance he takes on him. The first is that related by Plutarch, in which king Pyrrhus made his army defile before a dog, who for three days guarded a murdered corpse, without eating or drinking, and who seized the culprit as he passed alonp. The most notorious is the story of the dog of Montargis, who dragged his master's friend to the spot where he was buried, flew on the assassin wherever he met him, and finally overcame him in a single combat which took place by the orders of Louis VIII. Benvenuto Cellini, who, notwithstanding that his vanity and superstition have often seduced him into the belief of absurdities, appears, nevertheless, not to have exaggerated his impressions, has given a graphic narrative of an incident which happened to himself. A thief one night broke into his shop. The dog contended with the oulprit, though he was armed with a sword, mid next running into the journeymen's chamber, awoke them by drawing off the bed clothes, and pulling them alternately by the arm. The men, not comprehending the cause of his importunity, drove him from the room and locked the door.

Nothing daunted he returned to the charge, and overtaking the thief who had retreated into the street, he held him by the cloak. The fellow had the wit to cry out mad dog, which brought the loiterers to his assistance, and for this time he escaped. After a considerable interval, as Cellini was walking in one of the squares of Rome, his dog flew on a young man, and endeavorad to tear him to pieces, in spite of the sticks and swords that were brought to his defence. The dog was got off with great difficulty, and the man was retiring, when some bundles fell from under his cloak, in one of which Cellini espied a little ring of his own. ' This is the villain,' he exclaimed, 'that broke open my shop, and my dog knows him again;' and he once more let loose the animal - but the thief lost no time in imploring mercy, and confessing his erlme.

The most mysterious faculty of the dog, one that approaches to divination, is yet to be told. A dog of Henry III. of France, was perfectly furious toward the regicide Clement, as he advanced to the audience in which he slew his sovereign, and could with difficulty be retained in an adjoining room. The merenastiness of the monk may have excited the bile of the dog. But there is an equally celebrated case, in which an English mastiff, who had never attracted the regards of his master, followed him one night to bed, and though repeatedly repulsed, could not be quieted till he got permission to remain. That same night an Italian valet entered his master's room with a design to murder him, and was only prevented by the faithful sentinel pinning him to the ground. The solution must be looked for either in the minute observation of the dog, which leads him to notice circumstances that escape our eyes, or else in a conjecture adopted by M. Blaze, that the emotion of a man who medidates a crime produces a peculiar odor from his body.

The dog who prevents your property from being stolen, will sometimes recover it when lost. A lady in Bath found her road blockaded by a strange mastiff, who compelled her to retrace her steps, and brought her to the spot where she had dropped a shawl, which he no sooner saw in her possession, than he galloped away. A boy who let fall some cakes from a basket, found, on his arrival at home that the greater part had been gathered up by his dog, who deposited them untasted, and then set off to fetch the remainder. Mr. Bell, in his c History of British Quadrupeds,' mentions that a friend of his own dropped a louis-d'or one morning, as he was on the point of going out. On returning late at night he was told by his servant that the dog had fallen sick,and refused to eat; 'and what,' says Mr. Bell, ' appeared very strange, she would not suffer him to take her food away from before her, but had been lying with her nose close to the vessel, without attempting to touch it. On my friend's entering the room, she instantly jumped upon him, laid the money at his feet, and began to devour her victuals with great voracity.