avoid being opposite Delmar, Blanche was forced to seat herself beside him. She sat at a sufficient distance to avoid touching him, and she regained her self-possession by degrees, as she perceived that he paid more attention to his meal than to his companions. From time to time, indeed, some ferocious expression fell from him, which made her shudder, but as no real danger seemed to menace her, the generals indulged the hope that he would leave them without even speaking to her. The repast was nearly concluded, and they began to breathe more freely, when a discharge of musketry was heard in the market-place of the town, which was situated opposite the hotel; the generals sprung to their arins, which they had placed near them-but Delmar stopped them.

"Well done, my brave fellows!" he said, laughing and balancing himself upon his chair, "I like to see that you're on your guard; but sit down again, there's nothing there that concerns you."

"What's that noise then ?" said Marceau.

Nothing," replied Delmar, "only the prisoners of last night that they're shooting."

Blanche shrieked with terror.

Delmar put down the glass which he was in the act of carrying to his lips, and turned slowly towards her.

"Well," he said, "if soldiers tremble like women, we must dress women in the soldier's uniform; you are very young," he added, taking her two hands in his own and looking in her face, “but you will get used to it."

"Oh! never, never!" cried Blanche, without reflecting how dangerous it was to display her feelings before such a witness, "never shall I get accustomed to such horrors!"

"Child!" replied Delmar, letting go her hands, "do you think a nation can be regenerated without bloodshed, or faction be repressed without the scaffold? Did the level of equality ever pass over a people without striking off some heads? Woe then, woe to the great, for the rod of Tarquin has pointed them out!"

He was silent for a moment and then continued.-" And what after all is death ?—a dreamless sleep from which we awake not. What is blood? -a red liquor something like that in this bottle, and which would produce no effect upon us but from the idea we attach to it. Well! you are silent! Are you not prepared with some philanthropical argument? A Girandin would not be so easily silenced."

And Blanche was compelled to speak.

"Now listen to the advice I am about to give you," said Delmar, after the conversation had continued for a short time-" Keep your philosophical reflections and your college arguments for the defence of your own life; for if you ever should fall into the hands of Charette or Bernard de Marigny, they would show you no more mercy than I have to their

*Two celebrated Vendean Chiefs.

soldiers. And as to myself, you would repent perhaps if you were to repeat them a second time in my presence-remember that." He quitted the room. A moment of silence ensued. Marceau laid down the pistols which he had kept in his hand during this conversation.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, following him with his finger, "never yet did man, without being conscious of it, approach so near to death as thou hast! Blanche, if one single gesture or word had escaped him to show that he had seen through your disguise, I would have blown his brains out!"

She heard him not. Her mind was full of the one idea-that to this man was entrusted the charge of pursuing the remains of the army which the Marquis of Beaulieu commanded.

"O God!" she cried, hiding her face in her hands, " to think that my father may fall into the power of this tiger; that if he had been taken prisoner last night,-perhaps there, before my eyes.-Oh, it is horrible! Is there then no pity left in the world? Oh, forgive me, forgive me!" she added, turning to Marceau, " for who better than I should know that there is ?"

At this moment a servant entered and announced that the horses were ready.

"Let us go," she cried, "for heaven's sake let us go,-there is blood in the very air that we breathe here."

"Come then," replied Marceau. And they all three hastily left the inn.

ADAPTATIONS IN FISHES.

The Cartilaginous Excrescence from the Jaw of the Salmon.

§. 10. THERE is one circumstance in the natural history of the Salmon, than which nothing exhibits in a more striking manner the constant operation of a Divine agency. It is a well-known fact that the Salmon every year migrates from the sea into the fresh water, in order to deposit its spawn in the gravelly bottom of the shallows of the stream. As the male fish passes up the stream, a considerable change takes place in his appearance: he assumes a golden orange hue, and in this state goes by the name of a red-fish. But the circumstance to which our attention is especially called is this: during the residence of the fish in fresh water, the nose becomes elongated, and a cartilaginous excrescence turns up from the extremity of the lower jaw, and is received into a hollow situated between the intermaxillary bones of the upper jaw. With the aid of this appendage, he is enabled to excavate a trench in the beds of gravel for the reception of the spawn. When the operation is finished, and the spawning season is past, the instrument which assisted him in his task disappears. What proof of design can be adduced more striking and palpable than this? There is evidently here an assumed adaptation for a specific purpose. In order to hollow out a furrow in the gravel for the safe deposit of the spawn, the fish is for the time furnished with a particular appendage; when the end is accomplished, the instrument of aid is laid aside, as a thing no longer wanted.

The Eyes of Fishes.

§. 11. The exterior form of the eye in fishes is nearly flat, and the common skin passes over it. This formation of the eye is well adapted to the circumstances in which fishes are placed. The tumult of the waters, the friction of sand, the rolling of stones can make no injurious impression upon such an eye; especially when we consider, how it is still further defended by the covering of a strong integument. There is, indeed, in fishes no apparatus to moisten and protect the eye-that beautiful provision in the higher orders of animals, which can never be admired too much-but there is no need for such an apparatus in the present case: for the eye of the fish is perpetually bathed and moistened by the fluid medium in which it resides.

It may be assumed as a general law, that the eyes of fishes vary in size in proportion to the depth at which they are found: fishes therefore which inhabit the lowest depths have the largest eyes. The eye of a Cod, whose

location may be fixed at thirty or forty fathoms from the surface of the sea, is as large as that of an ox. It is a well-known physical truth, that the rays of light only penetrate partially to certain depths in the sea: by what consummate wisdom then was the law established, that the eye should enlarge in proportion to the distance from the surface, in order that it might collect more of the scattered rays which traverse those dimly lighted regions! By this means compensation is in some degree made for the comparative obscurity in which fishes are placed, and sufficient power of vision is afforded them to collect the food on which they subsist. The flatness of the eye of a fish is also in this respect advantageous. Of the rays that fall upon a convex eye, only those that strike the centre are entirely conveyed to the retina, the seat of sentient vision; the rest are more or less reflected off, and are only partially subservient for the purposes of sight. But on the flat, or nearly flat, eye of a fish, the rays of light are subject to a less degree of reflection and consequent loss: and therefore in proportion to the size of the pupil, the light incident upon the eye is more effective in the production of vision.

The position of the eye also in fishes is well adapted to their individual habits and wants. In fishes which lie near the bottom and ascend to seize their prey, the eyes are situated on the upper surface of the head, and near to each other, so as to command a view of the objects above them. Whereas, in fishes which descend to take their food, the eyes are situated far asunder, so as to comprise within their field of view whatever lies below.

The Light of Fishes.

§. 12. We have mentioned, in the last section, that the eyes of fishes vary in size according to the depth at which they are found: and that by this means they are adapted to the twilight and obscurity of localities at a distance from the surface of the water. But there are depths in the sea, and depths too the permanent residence of living creatures, where not a single ray of light can penetrate; where pure and absolute darkness eternally reigns. It has not yet been ascertained, what is the limit at which light ceases to be transmitted in water: but as its diminution is very rapid in passing through that medium, there is no question of its entire exclusion from the deep parts of the ocean. And if we take into consideration that fishes are naturally night-feeders, we shall perceive that vast numbers of them must be actively moving to and fro in the thickest darkness; for, during the night, the depth of water below the surface of the sea, which possesses the faintest glimmer of light, is very limited. And it is evident that in such circumstances, no increase in the dimensions of the eye could obviate the difficulty: no eye, however broad its pupil might be, could discharge its proper function amid darkness so profound.