If you were to go amongst them, you would be totally unable to do anything useful, to guide a boat, to swim through the water, to procure yourself the least sustenance ; so that you would perish with hunger if they did not charitably give you now and then a bit of whale or seal.

TOMMY'S RIDE ON A DOG. Mr. Barlow happened to have a large Newfoundland dog, equally famous for his good nature and his love of the water. With this dog Tommy had long been forming an acquaintance; and he used to divert himself with throwing sticks into the water, which Cæsar would instantly bring out in his mouth, however great might be the distance. Tommy had been fired with the description of the dogs at Kamschatka and their method of drawing sledges, and thought it would be an excellent idea if he could get Cæsar to draw him in the same manner from place to place.

Finding that he had plenty of time, he commenced at once to put his project into execution. He therefore procured a rope, and one of the kitchen chairs, which he chose for his vehicle instead of a sledge. He then coaxed Cæsar into a large shed behind the house, and, extending the chair flat upon the ground, fastened him to it with great care and ingenuity. Cæsar, who did not understand the new purpose to which he was to be applied, suffered himself to be harnessed without opposition; and Tommy mounted his seat in triumph, and began his journey.

A crowd of little boys--the sons of the labourers within-now gathered round the young gentleman, and, by their admiration, very much increased his

ardour to distinguish himself. Tommy began to use the common expressions which he had heard coachmen use in managing their horses, and smacked his whip with all the confidence of an experienced driver. Cæsar, meanwhile, who did not understand this language, began to be a little impatient, and expressed his uneasiness by making several bounds, and rearing up like a restive horse. This added very much to the amusement of the spectators; and Tommy, who considered his honour as concerned in completing the adventure, began to be somewhat excited, and proceeding from one experiment to another, at length applied a pretty severe lash to the hinder part of his steed. This Cæsar resented so much that he instantly set off at a great speed, and dragged the chair along, with the driver upon it. Tommy now looked around with a supreme air of triumph, and kept his seat with surprising address and firmness.

Unfortunately there happened to be, at no great distance, a large horse-pond, which went gradual, down to the depth of three or four feet. Here, by a kind of natural instinct, the frightened Cæsar ran when he found he could not free himself from his tormentor; while Tommy, who now began to repent of his success, endeavoured to pacify and restrain him. But all his efforts were in vain, for Cæsar rushed headlong into the pond, dragging the chair after him, on which was seated the unfortunate Tommy.

The crowd of spectators had now a fresh subject for their diversion ; and all their respect for Master Tommy could not prevent them from bursting out into shouts of laughter. He did not wait long for the end of this singular adventure, for Cæsar, by a vigorous exertion, overturned the chair, and Tommy came roughly into the water. At first his feet stuck fast in the mud; but by a vigorous effort he freed himself with the loss of both his shoes; and thus labouring on, with considerable pain and difficulty, he reached the land.

The crowd of spectators beholding Tommy in this sad plight, instead of pitying him increased their laughter, so that the unlucky hero was irritated to an extreme degree of rage. Forgetting his own sufferings, as soon as he had struggled to the shore he fell upon them in a fury, and dealt his blows so liberally in every side that he put the whole company to flight, Toimy was now in the situation of a warrior that pursues a defeated enemy.

While he was thus revenging the affronts he supposed himself to have received, the unusual noise and uproar reached the ears of Mr. Barlow, and broug! t him to the door. He could hardly help laughing at the strange appearance of his little friend. It was with some difficulty that Tommy could compose himself enough to give him an account of his misfortunes, which, when he had heard, he at once led him into the house, and advised him to undress, and go to bed He then brought him some warm diluting liquors, by which means he avoided all the bad effects which might otherwise have arisen from so complete a drenching.

The next day Mr. Barlow laughed at Tommy in his usual good-natured manner, and asked him if he intended to ride out in the Kamschatka manner again ; adding that he should be afraid to attend him, as he had the habit of beating his attendants. Tommy was a little confounded at this remark, but replied that he should not have been so provoked if they had not laughed at his misfortunes, and that he thought it very hard to be both drenched and ridiculed. “But," replied Mr. Barlow, "did their noise or laughter do you any great damage, that you endeavoured to resent it so roughly ?” Tommy answered, “that he must own it did not do him any hurt or cause him any pain.” “Why, then," said Mr. Barlow, “I do not see the justice of your attack upon your companions.” “But." replied Tommy, “it is very provoking to be laughed at.” “ There are two ways of remedying that,” replied Mr. Barlow, “either not doing such things as will expose you to ridicule, or by learning to bear it with a little more patience."

Tell me not in mournful numbers

"Life is but an empty dream !"
For the soul is dead that slumbers,

And things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest !

And the grave is not its goal;
“ Dust thou art, to dust returnest,"

Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,

Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow

Find us farther than to-day.
Art is long, and Time is fleeting,

And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating

Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle,

In the bivouac of life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle !

Be a hero in the strife!
Trust no future, howe'er pleasant !

Let the dead past bury its dead !
Act-act in the living present !

Heart within and God o'erhead !
Lives of great men all remind us

We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us

Footprints on the sands of time :
Footsteps that perhaps another,

Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,

Seeing shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing

With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labour and to wait.

H. W. Longfellow.


INTO EUROPE. The first silk introduced into Europe was brought from China about six hundred years after our Lord's birth. Caravans laden with silk were carried by camels through the whole breadth of Asia, from the empire of China to the shores of the Mediterranean Sea. This journey occupied 243 days; the silk was

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