portion of the sponge has been supported. | Kentish rag is full of flinty spicula from Many sponges filled with needles of flint fossil sponges, and the green sand of Blackare on that account useless: only two kinds down is famous for a kind of a very peculiar are generally used-Turkey and West India shape, something like a pear on a long stem, sponges and of these two the Turkey which latter part has sometimes been missponge is much the best. This arises from taken for a bone. Altogether, no less than its tubes and orifices being smaller, and 427 species of fossil sponges have been enufrom its being more durable and less easily merated, and this, Professor Owen thinks, torn than the West India sponge; and this, is probably only a small proportion of the again, arises from its containing less cal- actual number in museums. careous matter. Sponges, as Dr. Lankester informs us, are commonly obtained by diving; and the inhabitants of the coasts of the Greek Islands are described as very expert in this operation. The diver goes out in a small boat, and from the perfect clearness of the water he can see the bottom; he carries a knife in his girdle, and, on descrying a sponge, he dives down and brings it up. He thus continues all day to dive after sponges, and, frequently, a hundredweight of sponge is his reward. It is, however, a very dangerous occupation, and the poor diver often sacrifices his life in his anxiety to increase his day's gains. Not the least wonderful circumstance connected with the history of the sponges, is the power possessed by certain species of boring into substances, the hardness of which might be considered as a sufficient protection against such apparently contemptible foes. Shells, both living and dead, coral, and even solid rocks, are attacked by these humble destroyers, gradually broken up, and, no doubt, finally reduced to such a state as to render them more serviceable to other living creatures. There is reason to believe that sponges were amongst the earliest inhabitants of the ocean; since their skeletons are often found inside flints, and in other instances we find casts in stone, formed by the filling up of the cavities left by their decay. It is hardly too much to say, that the layers of flint which occur in the chalk are the silicified remains of a large crop of sponges which grew myriads of ages ago. Some of them, when broken, exhibit, very beautifully, the structure of the sponge, while others possess only its external form. The rock called How wonderful! the sponges lived and died in the ancient waters, and, falling to the bottom, their remains were quietly covered up. Geologic ages passed away, the rising sea-bed rolled the oceans into new channels, and the chalky bed with flints became the white cliffs of our native land. And now, my young readers, we must part company, after having wandered together over many a reef and bay, and caught some glimpses of the marvels and delights which await us on every shore. Of the whales and sharks, and seals, and walruses, I have said nothing, since they rank higher in the animal scale, and my desire was to treat of fishes and creatures of still lower organization. The writer of these pages cheerfully acknowledges his indebtedness to Mr. Dallas and Dr. Carpenter, Edward Forbes, G. H. Lewis, Mr. Gosse, and Charles Kingsley, Professor Agassiz, and Dr. Lankester, Mr. Darwin, and many other learned and accomplished writers, whose works he has freely used in this attempt to interest the readers of the "Bor'S MONTHLY MAGAZINE" in the study those gentlemen have found so fascinating. Should our young readers feel dissatisfied with the scantiness of the provision placed before them, and the inadequate manner of serving it, their remedy will be to procure the works referred to, and, after studying them for six months, spend their next summer holiday by the sea. "O Lord, how manifold are thy works! in wisdom hast thou made them all: the earth is full of thy riches. "So is this great and wide sea, wherein are things creeping innumerable, both small and great beasts." IN A NIGHT IN A JUNGLE. BY AN OLD SOLDIER. For N the spring of 1860 I was left sick in the hospital at Delhi, while my regiment marched away to Agra. When the last notes of the band, playing "The British Grenadiers," died away in the distance, I leaned back my head on the pillow, and gave myself up to utter loneliness. the next day or two I gave full scope to my reflections: wondering if the regiment were yet at Agra; what my chum Patrick Grant was doing; or if our old quarter-master was yet drunk-it being his custom to be a little "nervous," as he termed it, immediately after dinner, &c. In the course of a few days the doctor pronounced me fit to proceed on my journey after the regiment. Early next morning, having procured the services of a guide, a man proved by experience to be trusty, and who knew the country well, I set forward on my route for Agra, a distance of, as far as I recollect, a hundred and forty miles, or thereabout. Well acquainted with the tract of country, the guide left the usual road, the open country, and followed the course of the Jumna, it being, as he said, nearer than the common route. The river here was broader than the Thames, but was not so dirty. The banks were low, and in many places marshy. Weeds of a strong and trailing kind were strewed in all the double abundance of tropical luxuriance all around. Along the banks of the river, where not marshy, grew a close-set shrub called "Korinda.” Its leaves, broad and drooping, formed a shade scarcely penetrable by the scorching rays. We travelled on without fear: it being daylight, the denizens of the forest were at rest. By and by, the sun reached the meridian, and his heat was almost suffocating. Wishing to get forward to Agra as fast as I could, we journeyed on. It was sunset when we reached a portion of the jungle where we determined to rest, and here we bivouacked for the night. After partaking of some food, and seeing that our weapons were all right for work at a moment's notice, lest some of our neighbours, a tiger or so, might take it into his head to give us a look as he went his round for the night, and we have no time to cry "Who goes there?" we prepared ourselves for rest. The grass had to serve the purpose of a couch; for myself, at least, this had no fears-it wasn't the first time I had done it. The sun sank, and, as there is no twilight in the tropics, it was very soon dark. Wrapped in our blankets, my knapsack constituting a pil. low, we were soon in the land of dreams. How long I slept I know not, but I was wakened from my quiet nap by the crashing of the bushes and sharp but deep-toned growls. The fire, which we had left burning as a guard against disagreeable neighbours, was smouldering to ashes. The growling increased; and, taking my rifle, and waking my companion, I crept towards the thicket whence the sound proceeded, the guide following close, or, in martial terms, bringing up the rear. Cautiously we moved on. Suddenly the sounds ceased, and, looking through the bushes, I beheld something more than I had bargained for the head of a full-grown Bengal tiger! Suddenly the apparition disappeared, and I thought we had got rid of a by no means respectable comrade, and I was going to return to my quarters for the rest of the night, when the guide restrained me from moving by telling me it would soon be back. accordingly seated myself, at the same time, however, looking to my rifle—which I always keep loaded—put on a cap, grasped it with a more determined gripe, and awaited the course of events. The guide was right. We had not long to wait when the tiger came back-this time, however, not alone, but bearing in his mouth the body of a good-sized bullock, stolen probably from some of the neighbouring herds. This he ness. My first return to consciousness was, I remember, to find myself lying in the bed of a bungalow (Anglice, a hut or cottage), not far from the Jumna. I asked my guide why we were not still travelling, for I perceived the sun was up. Feeling a sort of half-dead, half-aching pain in my left arm, I put up my right hand to discover the cause. A bandage, through which something slimy oozed, met my touch. It was blood. My arm was broken, and to this hour bears the marks of the tiger's teeth and paw; two of my ribs were also smashed. On the floor lay my rifle, marked with the effects of the late combat. The stock and the trigger were terribly bruised and bitten by the brute, for he had seized the rifle twice instead of my arm. We should think he had rather a hard mouthful for his feline grinders to pierce. Beside the rifle lay the tawny yellow and black-striped skin of my friend the tiger. laid down not over affectionately, and kept | my clubbed rifle on his head with force his vicious eyes on him with a stare as much enough to fell an ox, as he, deceived as to as to inform us that "possession was nine the distance by the light of the moon, points in the eyes of the law;" and, to tell sprang clean past me on my right side. you the truth, reader, I was by no means Drawing a long hunting knife which I forinclined to dispute with him concerning his tunately carried in my belt, and dropping right. He then commenced his supper, or on one knee, I awaited his second onset. rather breakfast, all the time keeping up a Whirr! crash! on he came, and my knife sort of growl, as a cat with a mouse when penetrated his tawny hide. I felt a heavy anyone interferes with her meal. I leaned weight on my breast, a severe pain in my my rifle on my knee, as it was somewhat left arm, and knew I was in the tiger's heavy; and the noise, slight as it was, grasp. The last thing I remembered was caught the animal's attention. He looked the sharp-toned click of my guide's rifle, up from his feast, which he seemed to enjoy and my senses fled. with no ordinary relish, for he stood licking his lips, and eyeing our place of concealment, intimating, as I thought, that we had better retire, and not bandy any words with him; for a fellow, when hungry, is in no mood to take any "chat" with much coolBut we had gone too far to retreat. We were in for it now, at any rate. It remained for him to make a dinner of our bones, or for us to wind him up with an ounce or two of lead in his heart, or in any other part of his carcase. However, we weren't, by a long chalk, inclined to allow him the freedom of the former proposition, without a struggle, at least. Fortunately for us, the wind was in our front; and, consequently, he was in fault a little as to our whereabouts. With a growl, he resumed work again. With the greatest caution I lifted my rifle to my shoulder, waiting with the greatest of patience for a favourable shot. There it is. I took deliberate aim, and fired. The ball, intended for his breast, sank into his right shoulder; and, with a roar that made the woods resound, he stood looking for his enemy. It was no use hiding any longer. We sprang to our feet. Crouching on the sward, and lashing the ground with his tail, his eyes flashing and rolling like two live coals, he prepared to spring. It was an awful moment of suspense, and our situation was by no means one to be envied. My readers know what that means. I never kept my eyes off him all the time. Whilst thus intently watching his every motion, he suddenly bounded towards me. I had just time to bring down Had my guide not been a cool and collected fellow, or had he let fly at once at the tiger, it is questionable if either of us would have left the jungle with life. As it was, I was nearly, if not a whole month, ere I rejoined my regiment; but I took care afterwards to be as seldom left behind it as possible, let what might happen. I have followed Gough through the whole of the Affghan war, been at Chillianwalla by the side of the Jhelum, stormed Sebastopol, and was at the relief of Lucknow, but my narrowest escape from "going under," was that one Night in the Jungle. THE OLD SOLDIER. LA LA VENDEE. A VENDEE is celebrated in the wars of the French Revolution for its adhesion to royalty and opposition to innovation. The character of the country and its inhabitants is fast changing under the system pursued by Louis Philippe and Napoleon; and intersected as it has been by them with a network of high-roads, it has lost much of its primitive character. But the place is | full of historic associations, and possesses peculiar interest for all who have any patriotic feeling, any admiration for courage and daring, any compassion for the oppressed, any regard for the crushed, the injured, and unfortunate. The country is now described as an inextricable complication of heaths, brooks, hollows, and little plains, having no connexion with one another. It is covered with trees, yet has no forests; every field, every dwelling, is surrounded by quickhedges abounding with close-set trees, and surrounded by ditches forming complete natural redoubts. It is divided into three parts; the Marais, comprising the sands, salt-marshes, and ponds bordering the seashore, intersected by dykes and canals, abounding in pastures destitute of drinkingwater; the Bocage, covered with thickets and heaths much cut-up and well cultivated; and the Plaine, very rich and highly cultivated, abounding in corn-fields and vineyards. At the time of the first French revolution, the population of La Vendée consisted in a great measure of small farmers, a prosperous and contented race. There the aristocratic spirit had only exhibited itself in its most inviting aspect. Peasants and proprietors had mingled together in festivals and field-sports. There was no jealousy on the one side, nor distrust on the other. The gaiety, the pride, the sensuality, the oppression, which marked the aristocracy in other parts of France, was there unknown, and the Vendeans had substantially nothing to complain of; they were attached to their landlords, their religion, and their old form of government. But this old form of government was fast giving way. The huge wrong-doing of the higher classes, the unskilful management of politicians, had already aroused a tempest, which was roaring in the faubourgs of Paris. The court had made light of the approaching danger. The preludes of the revolutionary drama had been disregarded. Rumours had spread through the country that the government was about to try violence instead of intrigue, that troops were thronging around the capital---but all this excited no interest in La Vendée. When the voice of rumour grew louder, and the tale it had to tell was of fierce struggle, and fire, and blood-when in its thunder-tones it told of the capture of the Bastille, and how a living flood of men had swept the streets of Paris, maddened with flushed and angry passions, how society was shaken to its centre, how old things were passing away beneath the deadly march of revolution, even then, La Vendée viewed the outbreak with distrust, and shrank from taking any part in the movement. The Vendeans remained tranquil until 1791, when the constituent assembly decreed that the clergy, like other public functionaries, should take the civic oath. The penalty for refusing was the loss of their livings. Many thou sands refused, and hence arose a distinction between constitutional and non-conforming clergy. Those who refused to conform were ordered to resign their churches in favour of other priests appointed by the constitution: this they refused to doVendée was in a state of violent ebullition; the local authorities endeavouring to carry out the decree, and the peasantry everywhere offering resistance. This went on for some time, the ejected ministers were regarded as martyrs to the cause of religious liberty-crowds flocked to hear them, and if they were surprised by the military, a skirmish took place. Rumour still spread not without great loss. About this time La Rochejaquelein arrived among them, but they received him with gloomy despair. A long catalogue of disasters had chilled their ardour; their army was decreasing day by Aubin, however, the peasantry were clamouring for a leader; they sought a captain to lead them on, and found one in young Henri; his words were full of fire, his bearing the very bearing of a hero; eagerly they thronged around him. "My friends," said he, "if my father were here, you would have confidence in him. For me, I am but a boy; but I shall prove by my courage that I am worthy to lead you. If I advance, follow me; if I flinch, kill me; if I die, avenge me!" its fearful stories of the revolution; it told | tle which was gained by the Vendeans, but how Louis XVI. had suffered death, and how that the Convention had decreed a levy of 30,000 men throughout France. The towns and villages of La Vendée were each to supply an allotted number of conscripts. The attempts to enforce this decree pro-day, and ruin seemed inevitable. At St. duced the civil war. At St. Florent, a young man named Réné Forêt headed a body of peasantry, and dispersed the civil and military authorities; at Pin, Jacques Cathelineau scattered his burning words, and put himself at the head of those who were determined to resist, and support, what he called the cause of God and religion. He proceeded through the district, recruiting as he went, and rousing the country by setting the church-bells ringing. The château of Tallais was taken by them, Chemillé shared the same fate. In other parts of Vendée, Forêt, the young man before mentioned, had aroused the peasantry and led them on, his troop increasing every day. Another rising took place at a short distance, on the estate of Maulevrier. These three bands soon united, and attacked Chollet. Beating the national guards, they gained possession of a considerable quantity of arms, money, and ammunition; and in a contest with the national guards of Saumur, secured a cannon, for which they conceived a great veneration, and called it "Marie Jeanne." Victory followed victory. The Vendean army, with the courage of desperation, fought and conquered. Army it could scarcely be called; it seemed an enthusiastic host, that was only an army so long as there was work to do, and then subsided into so many quiet units of an agricultural population. A staff, indeed, always remained in arms; but the vast concourse fluctuated, assembling or disbanding as the occasion required. The page of its history is full of the narration of attacks and defeats, of retreats and triumphant conquest. A fierce intestine struggle, a ceaseless hostility, that now made head against all innovation, and proclaimed the power of legitimacy in Vendée, and that now gave way before the republican host the Parisian soldiery-that now burnt trees of liberty, and now erected them in public streets. This unceasing warfare greatly reduced the At Easter, the little army separated for the solemnities of that season; and upon their reassembling, several other leaders speedily engaged in their struggle. It was not alone the peasants who rose against their oppressors: the royalist nobility joined the revolt. Among them might be distinguished the tall and singularly-hand-number of the royalists, who, after staying some Henri Duvergier, Count de la Roche- about a week at Thouars, set out for Fonjaquelein. The insurrection spread with tenay. fearful rapidity. The news soon reached Paris. The Convention appointed a military commission, with authority to try and execute, within twenty-four hours, all peasants taken with arms in their hands, as well as all who should be denounced as suspicious persons. A revolutionary army made their way into the heart of the Bocage; a fearful battle took place-a bat On the 16th of May, the royalist army arrived and settled down before the walls of Fontenay. A brisk attack ensued; and here, among the leaders, we notice the Abbé Guyot de Folleville, a man who styled himself Bishop of Agra. The peasantry were overjoyed at the presence of this ecclesiastic, who had acquired a great reputation for sanctity; but neither the holiness |