is at hand: directed by unerring instinct, | day, that if at work, they become impaas though it anticipated the assumption tient to such a degree, that it is often of structural perfection, and the com- necessary to suspend their labour: this mencement of a new mode of existence, oestrus lays its eggs on the lips and about it creeps out of the water, and fixes it- the nose of the horse; when the larvæ self on some plant or stalk, and waits its are excluded, they attach themselves to change; the outer envelope splits, the the inside of the lips and the tongue, head and body emerge; the wings, as yet and gradually pass down the esophagus incomplete, are drawn from their cases, into the stomach, where they fasten and the legs, from their former tegu- themselves to its lining membrane often ments; and the old covering of the ani- in great numbers, clustered in a bunch mal is left a useless relic. As yet the together, and living upon the mucous wings are small, soft, and crumpled; fluid secreted. soon, however, they expand, the nervures harden; the animal vibrates them, as if to try their strength; and then, exulting in its powers, it rapidly soars, and commences its aërial career of destruction. Some ruminating lie; while others stand The troublous insects lashes with his tail." At this season of the year cattle are much annoyed by insects; but their terrible enemy is the gadfly, (Estrus Bovis,) the female of which deposits her eggs beneath the skin of the ox, by means of a boring instrument, or natural auger, composed of four tubes, entering one within the other, and armed, at the extremity, with three hooks and two additional parts for piercing. The instrument, thus adapted for boring into the skin, is the ovipositor of this fly, and by its means the insect deposits an eggin every puncture. The larva, when hatched, finds itself lodged in a sack, filled with a purulent fluid, which constitutes its nourishment; this sack enlarges with the growth of the larva, the presence of which is to be known by the tumours on the skin of the ox, indicating its ravages beneath. The appearance of a single gadfly is sufficient to terrify the whole herd, and send them scouring over the fields. Another species of oestrus now abounds, which proves very tormenting to horses, by trying to enter their nostrils and lips. In some wooded districts these flies are so numerous, and so much distress the horses, especially during the heat of the But let us visit the shores of the ocean; and when the heat of midday is past, and the refreshing sea breeze invigorates the exhausted frame, wander along the beach, and pursue our observations on the various objects which are there to be seen, many of which are full of interest. The seashore is the last place in which the lover of nature can be idle; such a multiplicity of beings, varying in form and character, in habits and manners, and in the design of their existence, here surround him, as fully to employ his time and his attention. Yet how many annually visit the sea, some for the sake of health, some for amusement and pleasure, who leave it, without having examined the natural productions with which it teems, an investigation of which would have well filled up many an hour of ennui, and afforded both gratification and instruction. The retiring tide has left bare a low cluster of weed-covered rocks, with little pools between; let us approach them; we are sure of finding there something worthy our scrutiny. How numerous is the flower-like actinia, a species of polyp, which, from the radiation of its tentacula, has been called sea anemone, sea sunflower, and other names, indicative of its similarity. The actinia (see the the surface of the rock, the opposite extremity having a mouth, or oral aperture, surrounded by several rows of tentacula, or arms, which are capable of being expanded or contracted, or moved about as may be required. When the tentacula are fully expanded, the appearance of the actinia is very beautiful, and the effect is increased by the fine colours which these arms often assume, and which vary in different individuals. The structure of the actinia is much superior to that of most other polyps: the body is furnished with distinct muscular fibres, highly contractile; their digestive and aërating organs are complicated; and the young are produced from eggs, which are in clusters, on a membrane of a ribandlike form, in the respiratory chambers. These curious animals are endowed with the highest sensibility, contracting not only when touched, however delicately, but even when a dark cloud passes over the sky, as if apprehensive of impending danger from the sudden obscuration of the light. If a person endeavours to disengage them from the rock to which they are attached, by their sucker-like base, they forcibly contract themselves into a firm round mass, with a slimy surface, and are not easily to be removed without injury. They are not, however, so fixed that they cannot change their situation; they can slowly glide upon the surface of the rock, or they can detach themselves entirely, and filling themselves with water, so as to become nearly of the same specific gravity as their native fluid, suffer themselves to be carried by the current, to another spot; and it has been asserted, but on very doubtful authority, that they can turn themselves, and crawl along by means of their tentacles. They can elongate their bodies, and turn, with expanded arms, from side to side, either to enjoy the rays of the sun, or in quest of prey. panded mouth, which opens to engulf it. The work of digestion is rapid; but the shell and hard portions of the victim, after the softer parts are dissolved, are regurgitated through the mouth. Voracious as the actinia is, and rapid as are its digestive powers, it endures long abstinence without apparent inconvenience, though it is probable that the animalcules, which abound in the water it tenants, may contribute, in some slight degree, to its nourishment. However this may be, actinia may be preserved in a vessel of sea water (duly changed) for upwards of a year, without having visible food; but woe to the muscle or crab that is offered for their reception! A crab, as large as a hen's egg; or two muscles, shells included, will serve one for a meal; in two or three days the shells will be disgorged, not a particle of the soft contents remaining. With regard to the structure of the actinia, its external part consists of bundles of muscular fibres, running in various directions, some perpendicularly, some transversely, and the intervening spaces between these fibres thus interlaced, are numerous small granular bodies, apparently of a glandular nature, which are universally distributed, except upon the sucking base or disc. Over this musculo-glanular tissue is a mucous layer, forming a species of outer skin or epidermis, which appears to be thrown off at intervals and renewed. The tentacula, which are hollow, have the same structure. The stomach is a simple membranous sac, which appears to be a continuation of the external tissue, but modified in structure. The tentacula, as above noticed, are tubular with a minute orifice at their extremity; and their interior communicates with a compartment, between the stomach and the external tissue, or wall of the body; a compartment not single, however, but divided by longitudinal The actinia is very voracious; it seizes membranous partitions into numerous and swallows animals, with which it chambers, between which there is a free might appear to be totally unfit to con- communication. This chambered, or tend, such as crabs, and other crustacea, divided cavity, is the aërating receptacle, and shellfish; and for these it waits and is filled with the sea water taken in with expanded tentacles, ready to grapple through the tubular tentacula, and exthem, at the moment of contact. In pelled, when the animal contracts, through clear water it may be watched thus en- the same tubes, a fresh supply being abgaged; and it is curious to see how in- sorbed on the dilation of the body. The stantaneously the wandering crab, brought respiratory apparatus appears to be thus by chance within the grasp of the ani- under the creature's volition; and it has mal's tentacles, is seized, and how perti- been observed, of examples kept in vesnaciously it is grasped, the arms closing sels, that as the fluid, in which they are gradually around it, and by their con- confined, becomes deficient of air, and traction forcing the prey within the ex-consequently less fitted for the purpose of aquatic respiration, they fill themselves with it almost till they burst, resembling an inflated bladder; and this evidently because it is only in a great volume of such fluid that the quantum of air necessary for the support of life, (and which a much smaller volume of unexhausted water would supply,) is now contained. In these respiratory compartments are the eggs, arranged in clusters on a delicate convoluted membrane; and it appears, that on the detachment of the eggs from this membrane, they either pass, by means of a minute orifice, into the bottom of the stomach, whence they escape, or are transmitted through the tentacula. This point, however, remains unsettled. It is said, by some authorities, that the eggs are hatched internally, the young being extruded; by others, that the eggs are hatched after expulsion. There is, indeed, much in the economy of these animals to be investigated. The actinia may be divided with impunity, each part becoming a perfect animal; but when transversely cut asunder, the basal portion is about two months in gaining its rows of tentacula. Some traces of a nervous system appear to have been seen in the actinia; but on this subject nothing has been positively demonstrated. Such then is a sketch of the actinia, of which thousands gem the rocks of the low water near the shore; an animal curiously organized, and interesting from its habits and instincts. From the water let us turn to the air: see how the sea gulls are wheeling and hovering around; how easy and buoyant their flight; every few minutes one may be observed to sweep down to the surface of the water, and rise again into the air, having most probably picked up some luckless fish, some marine mollusk, or some putrescent morsel. Several are lightly floating on the curling waves; though they thus swim, they do not dive, but merely collect their food from the surface, or search for it on the shore, when the tide has retired: some of the species, as the common gull, (Larus canus,) often fly inland to a considerable distance, and feed upon earthworms, grubs, snails, etc. The birds of this group are eminently gregarious, breeding together in large companies; but each species has its peculiar situation. The kittewake gull, for example, (Larus rissa,) selects the narrow ledges which jut from the face of perpendicular rocks, or cliffs overhanging the sea; but others, as the lesser black-backed gull, (Larus fuscus,) and the herring gull, make choice of low, flat, and exposed rocky islands, which they sometimes almost cover with their nests. The blackheaded gull (Larus ridibundus) retires from the sea far inland to breed, making its nest among the herbage of fresh water pools and marshes. There skims a flock of terns or sea swallows, the "Hirondelles de mer" of the French. Of this genus several species annually visit our coasts, to breed, and of these, one of the most frequent along our eastern and southern shores, is the arctic tern, (Sterna arctica,) which tenants, in great numbers, the Fern Islands; to which others of the species also resort. The flight of the tern, and its general appearance on the wing, reminds the observer of the swallow or swift, and is strong, rapid, and enduring. We have seen them, in rough weather, sweeping over the rolling waves, and occasionally plunging in with such force as to disappear for several seconds: it is thus that they take their prey, which consists of small fishes, upon which they dart, when within a certain distance from the surface. terns, like the gulls, congregate in large flocks during the breeding season, and make their nests close together, so that it is sometimes impossible to cross the ground they occupy without breaking the eggs, or treading upon the young. Low solitary islands, along the coast, are their favourite localities. The But mark the returning tide; slowly and gradually, but surely, are the waters of the ocean advancing, and we must retire. How grand is the roar of the rolling billows! how sublime, from its immensity, the spectacle presented by the mighty sea, stretched out till its dim outline blends with the horizon,-image of eternity! Yet mighty in its force, terrible in its storms, and overwhelming as the ocean is, there is One, who is "mightier than many waters," than "the mighty waves of the sea;" it is the Maker and Preserver of the universe, who has appointed the ocean its limits, and said, Hitherto shalt thou come, but no further: and here shall thy proud waves be stayed," Job. xxxviii.* 11. Let us, then, see Him, the Creator and Lord of all, both in the great ocean, and in the living creatures with which it teems, and thus "look through nature, up to nature's God." M. THE COLOSSEUM. THE first thing, among the antiquities of Rome, that usually strikes the traveller in coming from Naples, after he has once passed within the walls of this renowned city, is the Colosseum. It is said to have derived its designation from its colossal size. This edifice is altogether the most imposing structure that remains at Rome, among all the various monuments of other times. I may truly say, that no relic of former greatness, no monument of human art, no memorial of ages that have gone, ever spoke more forcibly to my heart than did this massive pile. There is an air and majesty about the whole structure, that I cannot describe. It strikes you as an emblem of ruined grandeur. Time has overspread its massy walls with rich hues. The Colosseum stands apart from modern Rome in solitary greatness, surrounded with the ruins of the imperial city. It stands at the termination of the Sacred Way, between the Coelian, Esquiline, and Palatine hills, where the bases of these approach each other. Ruined temples and triumphal arches are on every side of it. Dilapidated walls, broken arches, and mighty fragments of granite columns, half buried in the earth, here and there meet the eye, and give increased effect to the emotions awakened by viewing this gigantic structure. The Colos seum has now stood about two thousand years. Its walls were battered by the war engines of Vandals and Goths, when the proud city of the Cesars had to open her gates to those northern hordes. During the middle ages, the various factions sought protection within its impregnable sides. At a later period, entire palaces, and not a few of the most distinguished mansions, in modern Rome, were reared from materials torn from its walls. And yet the Colosseum, at this moment, stands before you in such perfection, and in such vast and gigantic dimensions, that you are led to wonder to what height it must have towered, and in what majesty it must have shone, when, from the foundation to the cope-stone, all was entire and unmarred. On one side, portions of the top of the walls have been quite broken off. Over these broken arches, and dilapidated walls, the long grass trails down; and here also bushes have sprung up, and, waving in the wind, present, in their verdure and foliage, the appearance of a lofty hanging garden. The Colosseum was built for an am phitheatre. I believe it was commenced by Vespasian, and finished by Titus, A.D. 80. Its shape is oval or elliptical. The circular exterior wall which surrounds the whole consists of three rows of arches one above the other, with half pillars between each arch. Still higher X condemned to fight with wild beasts in the amphitheatre. When I first stood and gazed upon this arena, I could not but think of the thousands of martyrs who had bled and poured out life, on this very spot, for the love of Christ, while the arches above rung with shouts of delight from the assembled thousands, who thirsted for these scenes of cruelty and blood. I could not but remember the fate of the sainted Ignatius, who was brought from Antioch in the reign of Trajan, for the very purpose of being thrown among wild beasts, upon this very spot. It was here that he met his fate with such composure and firmness, sacrificing every thing for the love of Christ. than this was a fourth row of pilasters, | convicted of renouncing idolatry, were with forty square windows, but without arches. The Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian orders were successively employed in the first three rows. The pilasters of the fourth row are also Corinthian. This exterior wall rises up nearly two hundred feet in height. Within the outer walls are two other concentric ones, not so high as the former. These three walls constituted the framework of the building, and together formed a double row of porticoes running round the whole, which communicated with each other, and received light from the outside. The entrances were by eighty arches in the outer wall, which opened into the first portico. From thence the people might pass, by as many arches, into the second, where they found, at intervals, staircases leading to the seats. All the spectators sat upon the bare stone, with the exception of the senators. The seats, rising one above another from the bottom, only went as high as the third story, above which were staircases leading to a gallery, in the fourth story, for the common people. Though the ancient amphitheatres usually had no canopy above them but the heavens, there seem to be fixtures and contrivances which show that an awning was, on some occasions, stretched over the heads of the people. The size of the Colosseum is immense. Several guide books state, that it exceeds seventeen hundred feet in circumference, being six hundred feet in length, and five hundred in width. The space in the middle, where the shows were exhibited, is called the arena. It is said to have taken this name from the sand which was strewn over this place to absorb the blood of the wild beasts that were slain there in such vast numbers. The arena, like the outer wall, is oval in shape, being three hundred feet in length, and one hundred and ninety in width. Into this vast arena, elephants, lions, panthers, bears, and all the various kinds of wild beasts found in the deserts or forests of Asia and Africa, were introduced for sport. When thus brought out before the people they were irritated and maddened, and made to fight each other; or, what afforded still higher sport to the Romans, to fight men, who often, unarmed, engaged with these infuriated beasts in desperate death struggles. This was a punishment frequently inflicted upon the early Christians, who, after having been It will be recollected that this immense structure would seat more than one hundred thousand persons, and it was seldom opened for the exhibition of bloody sports when it was not crowded to the topmost seat. When it was first completed, it was opened one hundred days in succession, and it continued to be filled day after day, during all this period. What was it that attracted such immense crowds, not simply of the lower class of people, but of refined and cultivated ladies, emperors, priests, vestals, senators, magistrates, and all the various classes of the higher orders of society? It was this strange passion to witness scenes of strife and blood. Every body loves excitement; and the scenes acted by the gladiators meeting each other in deadly conflict in the amphitheatre, and the rage of wild beasts maddened to desperation, encountering each other, or some naked human foe, furnished a kind of excitement that seemed suited to the Roman taste. These were scenes in which the inhabitants of this renowned city, in her proudest and most palmy days, sought their favourite amusements. Notwithstanding these spectacles were attended with cruelties sufficient to shock the most abandoned mind, such was the passion for them, and so great the eagerness to secure good seats and eligible stations, that multitudes flocked to the amphitheatre the evening preceding the day of these sports, and continued there all night, that they might be present at the commencement of them, and witness them without any obstruction. As I stood at one end of the arena, I could not but recall, in imagination, the scene that must often have been witnessed here, of more than one hundred thou |