Newfoundland dogs may readily be taught to rescue drowning persons In France, this forms a part of their education, and they are now kept in readiness on the banks of the Seine, where they form a sort of Humane Society Corps. Bv throwing the stuffed figure of a man into a river, and requiring the dog to fetch it out, he is soon taught to do so when necessary, and thus he is able to rescue drowning persons. This hint might not be thrown away on our own excellent Humane Society.

The Newfoundland dog may be broken into any kind of shooting, and, without additional instruction, is generally under such command, that he may be safely kept in, if required to be taken out with Pointers. For finding wounded game of every description there is not his equal in the canine race, and he is a sine qua non in the general pursuit of wild-fowl. These dogs should be treated gently, and much encouraged when required to do anything, as their faults are easily checked. If used roughly, they are apt to turn sulky. They will also recollect and avenge an injury. A traveller on horseback, in passing through a small village in Cumberland, observed a Newfoundland dog reposing by the side of the road, and from mere wantonness, gave him a blow with his whip. The animal made a violent rush at and pursued him a considerable distance. Having to proceed through the same place the next journey, which, was about twelve months afterwards, and while in the act of leading his horse, the dog no doubt recollecting his former assailant, instantly seized him by the boot, and bit his leg. Some persons, however, coming up, rescued him from further injury.

A gentleman who had a country house near London, discovered on arriving at it one day that he had brought away a key, which would be wanted by his family in town. Having an intelligent Newfoundland dog, which had been accustomed to carry things, he sent him back with it. While passing with the key, the animal was attacked by a butcher's dog, against which he made no resistance, but got away from him. After safely delivering the key, he re. turned to rejoin his master, but stopped in the way at the butcher's shop, whose dog again sallied forth. The Newfoundland this time attacked him with fury, which nothing but revenge could have inspired, nor did he quit the aggressor till he had killed him.

A gentleman in Ireland had a remarkable fine and intelligent Newfoundland dog, named Boatswain, whose acts were the constant theme of admiration. On one occasion, an aged lady who resided in the house, and the mother-in-law of the owner of the dog, was indisposed and confined to her bed. The old lady was tired of chickens and other productions of the farmyard, and a consultation was held in her room as to what could be procured to please her fancy for dinner. Various things were mentioned and declined, in the midst of which Boatswain, who was greatly attached to the old lady, entered the room with a young rabb:t in his mouth, which he laid at the foot of the bed, wagging his tail with great exultation. It is not meant to infer that the dog knew anything of the difficulty of finding a dinner to the lady's taste, but seeing her distressed in mind and body, it is not improbable that he had brought his offering in the hopes of pleasing her.

On another occasion, his master found this dog early one summer's morning keeping watch over an unfortunate countryman, who was standing with his back to a wall in the rear of the premises, pale with terror. He was a simple, honest creature, living in the neighborhood. Having to attend some fair or market, about four o'clock in the morning, he made a short cut through the grounds, which were under the protection of Boatswain, who drove the intruder to the wall, and kept him there, showing his teeth, and giving a growl whenever he offered to stir from the spot. In this way he was kept a prisoner till the owner of the faithful animal released him.

A gentleman had a shepherd dog, which was generally kept in a yard by the side of his house in the country. One day a beggar made his way into the yard, armed with a stout stick, with which he defended himself from the attacks of the dog, who barked at and attempted to bite him. On the appearance of a servant the dog ceased barking, and watching his opportunity, he got behind the beggar, snatched the stick from his hand, and carried it into the road, where he left it Mr. Millar, a Scotch gentleman, a resident of Melbourne, Australia, entertained the opinion that clogs of ordinary sagacity were capable of recognizing the members of a family which they had not previously seen. lie claimed they could do it from resemblance, and also by the scent, which must be similar in families. He had an opportunity of proving very conclusively, both of these theories. The incident was related to us by one of the participants, a lady, now residing in Brooklyn :

While traveling near Melbourne, Mr. Millar was followed home by a young Retriever. Finding him to be a valuable dog, he advertised for the owner, but failing to find one, "Jennie" was installed as the household pet and guardian. Two small children were always accompanied in their walks by her, and no stranger could as much as lay a hand on them. A side gate, near which was her kennel, was guarded against strangers, with the greatest fierceness. At the time of Jennie's installation Miss Lucy, a daughter of fifteen, was away at school, Millar considered her return home would afford a good opportunity to test his theory. "Jennie" had in her kennel, near the guarded gate, a litter of young pups, and was uncommonly savage, but Mr. Millar did not hesitate to send his daughter alone to the lane and through the gate, which she had barely passed, before the dog came at her in full speed, aud with such savageness that her stout heart quailed. When within a few paces from her, the dog stopped, looked in Miss Lucy's face, then approached her and smelt of her dress, making a circuit around her, after which she placed her nose into the young ladie's hand, exhibiting great satisfaction at making her acquaintance.