benighted, constitute the title to their comfortable shelter, their cheering meal, and their agreeable conversation. But their attention to the distressed does not end here. They devote themselves to the dangerous task of searching for those unhappy persons, who may have been overtaken by the sudden storm, and would perish but for their charitable succour. Most remarkably are they assisted in these truly Christian offices. They have a breed of noble dogs in their establishment, whose extraordinary sagacity often enables them to rescue the traveller from destruction. Benumbed with

cold, weary in the search for a lost track, his senses yielding to the stupefying influence of frost, which betrays the exhausted sufferer into a deep sleep, the unhappy man sinks upon the ground, and the snow-drift covers him from human sight. It is then that the keen scent and the exquisite docility of these admirable dogs are called into action. Though the perishing man lie ten or even twenty feet beneath the snow, the delicacy of smell, with which they can trace him, offers a chance of escape. They scratch away the snow with their feet; they set up a continued hoarse and solemn bark, which brings the monks and labourers of the convent to their assistance. To provide for the chance that the dogs, without human help, may succeed in discovering the unfortunate traveller, one of them has a flask of spirits round his neck, to which the fainting man may apply for support; and another has a cloak to cover him. These wonderful exertions are often successful; and even when they fail of restoring him who has perished, the dogs discover the body, so that it may be secured for the recognition of friends; and such is the effect of the temperature, that the dead features generally preserve their firmness for the space of two years.

One of these noble creatures was decorated with a medal, in commemoration of his having saved the lives

of twenty-two persons, who, but for his sagacity, must have perished.

Many travellers who have crossed the passage of St. Bernard have seen this dog, and have heard, around the blazing fire of the monks, the story of his extraordinary career. He died about the year 1816, in an attempt to convey a poor traveller to his anxious family. The Pied-mont-ese courier arrived at St. Bernard in a very stormy season, labouring to make his way to the little village of St. Pierre, in the valley beneath the mountain, where his wife and children dwelt. It was in vain, that the monks attempted to check his resolution to reach his family. They at last gave him two guides, each of whom was accompanied by a dog, of which one was the remarkable creature whose services had been so valuable to mankind. Descending from the convent, they were in an instant buried by two avalanches; and the same common destruction awaited the family of the poor courier, who were toiling up the mountain in the hope to obtain some news of their expected friend. They all perished.

A story is told of one of these dogs, who, having found a child unhurt, whose mother had been destroyed by an avalanche, induced the poor boy to mount upon his back, and thus carried him to the gate of the convent." Saturday Magazine.”

THE SHEPHERD'S CHIEF MOURNER.

THE winds softly sigh round the cot on the mountain, Its hearth is now cheerless, its walls they are bare, And hushed, as the sound of the winter-bound fountain, The voice that oft sung the old Highland songs there;

The plaid that he wore when the bleak winds were wailing,

Now rests on his coffin-'twill warm him no more; But his faithful companion, with instinct unfailing, The Shepherd's Chief Mourner, keeps watch as of

yore.

His years were spun out, till but faint recollection

Remained him of children, of wife, or of friends; But his dog-'twas the last thing that showed him affection

In death, as in life, by his side still attends: They bear him away in the bleak winter weather,

And there, 'neath the free mountain breezes he lies; They leave him alone in his grave 'neath the heather, But his dog, his Chief Mourner; there lingers and dies. J. E. Carpenter:

THE DAUGHTER OF ISRAEL.

A DAUGHTER of Israel sat by a stream,
And the waters roll'd murmuring by;

Like the shadows that flit o'er the soul in a dream,
Or the storm-clouds that darken the sky.

The clear light, that shone in her mild-beaming eye

Proclaim'd her as one of the free;

And these were the words that she breathed with a sigh,

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I weep, land of Judah, for thee."

The thunder roar'd loud, but she heeded not that,→

She thought on the land of the brave;

And still by the waters she mournfully sat,
Till the stream billowed high in a wave;
And, as she departed, this, this was her lay,
"Farewell to the land of the free;

No longer thy children the timbrel shall play,-
I weep, land of Judah, for thee?"

Charles Sloman.

AMERICA.

GOING westward from Europe, across the great Atlantic Ocean, we come, as has been said before, to the Continent of America. Though there are four continents on one side of the globe, viz., Europe, Asia, Africa, and Australia, there is only one on the other side, viz., America, which, as you will see by looking at the map, extends the whole length of the western hemisphere, through all the climates of the world, from the intense cold of the northern Arctic Ocean blocked up with ice, through the temperate and the hottest climates of the world, to the cold again in the extreme south; for the hottest regions of the globe lie in the middle of it, and extend like a broad belt around it.

The extreme north, then, and the extreme south, are equally cold. Those parts of the earth between the hottest and coldest regions are called temperate, because they are neither very hot nor very cold. Now, as America stretches through all these different climates, it has a great variety of productions.

The sugar-cane, the cocoa-nut, and all the palm tribes, the lime, the pine-apple, the cocoa, grow in its hot countries-in Brazil and other parts of South America, in the West Indies and Mexico. Here also are flowers of the richest hue, birds with bright and gay plumage, such as the chattering red and green parrots, and the lovely little humming birds, blue, and green, and gold, not bigger than an humble bee, flitting in the sun. Of quadrupeds, the lama of South America is peculiar to that country. It is used as a beast of burden, and is of the camel kind, only much smaller.

In the temperate regions of North America are forests of pine, beech, maple, and oak. The apple, pear, and peach, flourish there; and fine harvests of Indian corn and other grain.

In the cold regions, the vegetation is poor and stunted.

Dwarf birch trees, and berry-bearing bushes, lichens and various mosses, live among the snow.

All sorts of animals with warm furs inhabit these regions, as well as the temperate climates-bears, foxes, wolves, squirrels, and beavers.

North and South America are united, as you see in the map, by a long narrow isthmus, called in its narrowest part, the Isthmus of Darien, or Panama, and in the sea or gulph between lie those islands called the West Indies.

America, both North and South, is chiefly inhabited by Europeans, or rather descendants of those Europeans, who in former days conquered the native tribes, and drove them far inwards to their forests and lofty plains.

North America has been peopled chiefly by the English, including Irish and Scotch. Part of it is called British America, because it is under the government of Great Britain; and part is called the United States of America, because though the people of these countries are also of English descent, and speak the English language, they have a government of their own, and form a separate nation.

The descendants of Spaniards inhabit the country west and south of the United States, which is called Mexico; it extends along the isthmus to South America.

South America is a peninsula, and is inhabited chiefly by European nations; the descendants of French, Spanish, Portuguese, and English settlers.

Still there are many natives tribes to be found, both in North and South America.

In the far north, bordering on the icy ocean, dwell the Esquimaux, a short ugly race of people, with large thick bodies, and small legs and feet; with black hair, and complexions which never see the light, for they are always covered with grease and dirt. They live on animal food

-on bears, wolves, whales, seals, or any flesh they can procure, and gorge themselves with oil and fat to keep themselves warm.