insects and their larvæ, the destroyers of vegetation, in our own country often producing incalculable damage, and in hotter climates, where myriads swarm, the harbingers of famine and desolation.

The subterranean habits of this "good-man delver" are known to every reader; we wish, therefore, to call their attention to the structure and mechanism of its frame, as expressly adapting it to its mode of life, and as rendering it, in fact, incapable of existing under circumstances different from those in which its Creator has placed it. The structure of the mole is indeed an example of design and contrivance, which forcibly appeals to every mind disposed even superficially to investigate it; and speaks of a plan and a harmony to be traced at every step throughout the creation of God.

And, first, we would speak of its adaptation for an underground existence in narrow galleries, from which it only emerges occasionally into air and light.

The head of the mole is long, tapering, and pointed; the body conical; the chest, or anterior portion, being large and round, and narrowing-off gradually to the lumbar region; the hip-bones, or pelvis, being extremely small, and in fact only deserving that name from their situation. By this contour of body—a contour indicating that the great development of organisation is thrown as far forward as possible, and that there all the muscular force is concentrated, the mole, working its head and chest into any opening, is enabled to freely drag along its hinder quarters, which, from their gradually reduced size, offer no impediment to the creature's progress; for, tearing a passage with its spade-like hands, as it bores forward with its nose, the gallery it thus forms, which will allow the passage of the chest, will more than allow that of the hinder parts also. The soil in which the mole chiefly delights is soft and loose, through which it may follow its food with facility, and which in such places is very abundant. Now the fur of this animal is of such a quality as to be, of all others, the least likely to be matted with dirt or saturated

with mud; a condition peculiarly distressing to all soft-furred animals, which observe the greatest cleanliness. The fur of the mole is astonishingly close, short, and fine, having both the feeling and the appearance of velvet. In addition to the difficulty of its imbibing wet and mud, or, indeed, becoming full of sand or dust, it also possesses the advantage of not incommoding the animal by its length in the mining operations which it is ever carrying on; while, from its closeness and delicacy of texture, it affords warmth and comfort.

The mole works in darkness; its chambers and its galleries are dark; it neither desires nor can enjoy the light of our upper world. Many have supposed the animal to be altogether destitute of the organ of vision. Such, however, is not the case-the eyes are present, but very minute, and buried in the fur, and thus not easily discoverable; but if the fur be removed from the sides of the head, they may be distinctly seen. At all events their state is merely rudimentary, and it may be doubted whether they possess any power of sight, though Cuvier is of opinion that the optic nerve is present; but if such were the case, it would not establish the capability of vision. The faculty of sight, as it would be thrown away upon the mole, is therefore wisely denied (for the God of nature gives nothing in vain; nothing too much-nothing too little); but in lieu thereof the senses of smell and hearing are highly acute, their respective organs being developed accordingly. By these senses the mole pursues its prey, and is warned of the approach of its enemies. They are essential to its existence and preservation.

We have thus far spoken of the adaptation of this animal for a subterranean mode of life: we have next to notice the instruments and mechanism by which it conducts its laborious works—its delving, its mining, and its excavations. Let us look at the skeleton. What do we find? A narrow skull, with the cartilage at the tip of the nose ossified into a little bone, constituting an instrument for boring and piercing the ground; a neck short and strong, and indicating the power of

the muscles attached to the back of the skull by the ossification of the cervical ligament; a ligament passing along the spinous processes of the vertebræ of the neck for the support of the head, and in other animals tough and elastic, but here, absolutely bone; a hand strong, broad, firm, and spadelike, scarcely divided into distinct fingers, and armed with large flat powerful nails, calculated for ploughing up the earth with the utmost ease and rapidity. This hand, thus constituted for labour, is attached to the fore-arm, of which the bones are thick and short, the olecranon of the ulna being large, and projecting for the attachment of the powerful extensor muscles of the forearm; the humerus, or shoulder-bone, unlike that of most other mammalia, is a thick irregular mass, as broad as long; the clavicle, or collar-bone, is short and thick; the scapulæ are long and narrow. These bones are all thrown as

far forward as possible, by a projecting portion of the breastbone, which advances onwards from the chest, having a broad keel like that of a bird, for the attachment of the enormous pectoral muscles. These muscles are inserted into the humerus as far as possible from its fixed point, so that their action is to bring the arm from before backwards, the palms of the hands being turned obliquely outwards; hence the whole force of these muscles, as well as of those of the arm itself, is brought to bear in the operation of scraping up the earth and throwing it behind. The muscles of the scapulæ (shoulder blades) are, from the shape of those bones, rather distinguished for length than volume; length gives rapidity of motion-volume gives power. Now the muscles of the scapulæ are elevators of the humerus, and power is not here required but rapidity, in order that as little time as possible may be lost in raising the arm at each stroke, so that the work may proceed with celerity. The span of the ribs is large, indicating great capacity of the chest, and consequent development of the lungs, a circumstance always connected with muscular energy. The pelvis is merely nominal, the organs usually contained in that cavity passing externally

before the public bones. The inferior extremities are small; for the whole organic development is carried out very far forwards, in order to fit the animal for its destined life.

Such is an outline of the structure of the mole-a creature well known, and often annoying the farmer by its burrows among the rising wheat. The hillocks which we see are composed of the soil accumulated by the process of mining, and pushed out at certain distances, as the animal proceeds, that the gallery may be free.

The mole rears its young with care, in an excavation lined with vegetable fibres, from which many galleries diverge. As winter comes on, it gradually retreats more deeply into the earth, and, if possible, beneath a sheltered bank of soft vegetable mould, where, unsuspected, it may mine in pursuit of food, of which it stands in continual want, no animal being so incapable of supporting hunger.

It has often surprised us that the fur of this creature, so beautiful and so delicate, has not been more employed as an article of use or ornament.

HENRY V. TO HIS SOLDIERS BEFORE HARFLEUR. 66 SHAKSPERE. KING HENRY V."

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;

Or close the wall up with our English dead!

In peace there's nothing so becomes a man

As modest stillness and humility:

But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favoured rage;
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect-

Let it pry through the portage of the head

Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it,
As fearfully as doth a galled rock

O'erhang and jutty his confounded base,

I

Swilled with the wild and wasteful ocean.
Now set the teeth, and stretch the nostril wide;
Hold hard the breath, and bend up every spirit
To his full height! Now on, you nobless English,
Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof!
Fathers that, like so many Alexanders,

Have in these parts from morn till even fought,
And sheathed their swords for lack of argument.
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,

And teach them how to war !—And you, good yeomen,
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here

The mettle of your pasture: let us swear

That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not ;-
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot!
Follow your spirit! and, upon this charge,
Cry,-God for Harry! England! and St. George !

THE LOSS OF THE ALCESTE.

The circumstances attendant on the loss of the British frigate Alceste afford one of the most beautiful and instructive examples recorded in naval history, not only of the good effects resulting from a well-regulated system of discipline, but of the manly character of British seamen.

Early in the year 1816, in consequence of the difficulties thrown in the way of our commerce with China by the authorities at Canton, it was resolved by the British Government to send out an extraordinary embassy to the Court of Pekin. On the 9th of February Lord Amherst, who was appointed to conduct what has well been termed this difficult and delicate mission, embarked at Portsmouth, with a numerous suite, on board the Alceste, a frigate of forty-six guns, commanded by Captain, afterwards Sir, Murray