their growth ceases, nor what is the natural duration of their life.

With respect to tortoises, we have sufficient grounds for asserting that their growth is slow, and their existence greatly protracted. In the bishop's garden, at Peterborough, a tortoise died in the year 1821, which must have exceeded 220 years of age. The Lambeth tortoise, which was introduced into the garden in the time of archbishop Laud, about the year 1695, died, from neglect on the part of the gardener, in 1753, having been 128 years in the garden. Gilbert White records several details respecting a tortoise which had lived thirty years in captivity, and states that another, in an adjoining village, was kept till, by tradition, it was supposed to be 100 years old. In the "Proceedings of the Zoological Society," July 9th, 1833, a notice will be found relative to one of those huge elephantine tortoises, originally from the Seychelles Islands, which was then living in the Zoological Gardens, and which had been presented to the society by lieutenant-general sir Charles Colville, late governor of the Mauritius. The specimen in question was one of those which were brought from the Seychelles Islands to the Isle of France (Mauritius) in 1766, by the chevalier Marion du Fresne, and is believed to have since remained unchanged in size and appearance. Consequently it had been, in 1833, sixty-seven years in the island, and was full grown, or at least as large as it was in 1833, at the time of its transportation to the Mauritius. What its real age was it is impossible to conjecture; its length, measured along the curve of the back, was 4 feet 4 inches, its breadth, taken in the same manner, 4 feet 9 inches. The length of the under-plate was 2 feet 8 inches, the breadth of the same, 2 feet 1 inches. Its weight 285 pounds. We have, however, seen far larger specimens. With respect to marine tortoises, or turtles, which, when first hatched on the sandy shore, are minute and feeble, and the prey of sea-fowl and quadrupeds, some of them grow to a prodigious bulk. The leathery turtle has been known to weigh 800 pounds. Advancing from these cold-blooded vertebrata, whose circulation is languid, and whose tenacity of life is proverbial,

We next come to birds. The goldfinch has been known to live sixteen, and even twenty years in confinement; and the canary also as long. The grey parrot,

and other species of this group, have been known to live for fifty, sixty, or even a hundred years. Eagles, ravens, swans, and pelicans attain to a great age, upwards, it is said, of a hundred years. The expression in Psalm ciii. 5, "Thy youth is renewed like the eagle's," evidently alludes to the long duration of life allotted to the eagle, as if, from time to time, its energies were recruited, and the vigour of younger days reassumed. The goose is said to live for a lengthened period; but the life of our gallinaceous birds, or ordinary poultry, varies in natural duration from twelve to fifteen years. With respect to the feathered tribes in general, our information, as to the term of their existence, is very partial.

"Birds," says an admirable writer on physiology, "excel all other vertebrated animals in the energy of their muscular powers. The promptitude, the force, and the activity they display in all their movements, and the unwearied vigour with which they persevere for hours and days in the violent exertions required for flight, far exceed those of any quadruped, and implies a higher degree of irritability, dependent, probably, on the great extent of their respiratory functions than is possessed by any other class of animals."

Let us now turn to the mammalia. Among the races of this class of animals, those that are the most prolific are the shortest lived naturally, and most liable to become the prey of other animals; they reach maturity very early, and proportionate is the duration of their existence. In proof of this statement, we appeal to the rodents, remarkable, as a rule, for fertility, and brevity of life. Their fertility, however, is not intended only as a compensation for shortness of natural existence, but as a mode of counterbalancing the great loss their numbers sustain from the assaults of their many foes, both furred and feathered; hence it is ordained that the species should not only be perpetuated, but perpetuated in a ratio equal to loss, in order that the tribes which make them their prey may not find a deficiency of food; and thus is maintained the balance between the weak and the predatory.

The mouse, for example, as Bavick observes, "is saved from extinction only by its amazing fecundity." The mouse breeds several times in the year; the young, six or eight in each litter, are

born blind and naked; in about fifteen days they are able to shift for themselves; in a few months they attain maturity; and are aged when three years old. The same observations apply to the rabbit, which is mature at about seven or eight months old, and lives about six years. From six to eight years appear to be the natural extent of the life of the hare.

On the other hand, animals which slowly attain to maturity, and produce only a single offspring every two or three years, generally attain to a great age. The elephant, the hippopotamus, and the rhinoceros are said to live through centuries. Of the natural duration of the wild horse, the wild ass, and wild ox, we have no means of gaining any information; but these animals, in a domestic state, granting they be not prematurely worn out, are old at thirty. The age of sheep is said to be about fifteen years. The hog is unquestionably the most prolific of the pachydermatous order. Yet it would appear that this animal lives as long, at least, as the horse, in a state of nature. White, in his "Natural History of Selborne," mentions a sow that produced young till beyond the age of fifteen, when she was killed for bacon.

Among the carnivora there appears to exist considerable variation. Of the huge seals of the southern seas, we know nothing with respect to their natural life. The bear of Europe is said to live for upwards of fifty years. The huge grizzly bear of North America, which died a few years since in the Zoological Gardens, had previously existed in the Tower for more than twenty years, and afterwards for six or seven in the gardens; but we must not form conclusions from animals in unnatural captivity. The lion is said to live to a great age; he is not mature till from five to seven years. Pompey, a noted lion, which died in 1760, is known to have been seventy years in the Tower; another lion, brought from the Gambia, died at the age of sixty-three. On the contrary, the cat lives only for fifteen or sixteen years. The dog lives from fifteen to twenty.

Of the duration of life in the mighty cetacea, the whales and grampuses of the ocean, we know nothing; they appear to be slow in coming to maturity, and, doubtless, are among the longest-lived of the animal creation. The cub of the whale is comparatively small, and is long fostered and protected by the dam. But who has counted its years of existence?

who has traced it, month by month, from its birth, till its great form succumbs to death, and becomes the prey of myriads of aquatic creatures "rejoicing in its decay.' Hundreds of years roll over ere its term of existence closes.

The crustaceous animals, as lobsters and crabs, etc., change their shell at given periods, till fully adult,-this renewal of their armour then ceases,—but to what period they continue to live is not ascertained. We have seen a dense array of full-grown muscles adhering to the back-plate of a Norway lobster, and oysters fixed on the back of crabs.

The mollusca, namely univalve and bivalve shellfish, are, many at least, probably very long lived; this fact the marks of animal growth on the shells of various species sufficiently prove; but the average duration of the life of any given species is quite unknown.

With respect to insects, as a whole, they enjoy but a brief term of being,—a few months in a caterpillar and larva state, and a few months, nay, weeks, in their perfect form; some even die in a day. Of others, however, the caterpillars live for two or three years, and the perfect insect for two or three more; burying itself in the earth during winter.

With respect to those strange animals, the gelly-fish, the physalia, the Portuguese man-of-war, the zoophytes, and the microscopic animalcules, we know nothing.

But man is one of the animal creation. "The days of our years are threescore years and ten; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labour and sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away." teach us," O Lord, "to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom!" M.

GIBRALTAR IN JANUARY.

"So

WHAT shall say to you of this wonderful rock? Nothing can exceed the beauty and variety of the vegetation with which its mighty bosom is all over embroidered. What think ye, at this season, of clusters of the white and odoriferous narcissus-polyanthus, and whole beds of lavender-flowers of the deepest purple and most aromatic fragrance? Every few yards you encounter beautiful shrubs, of which I know not even the names; and the broad rough stems and fanlike foliage of the palmetto mingle in

abundance with the gigantic leaves of the aloe, and the uncouth and unwieldy bunches of the prickly pear. Some parts are all blue with periwinkles; and here and there the wild tulip shows half his bulb, about the size of a turnip, among tufts of the most delicious herbs. Lower down are almond and damascene trees in full blossom; and here and there a noble old pine waves in gloomy majesty side by side with the light and feathery cork-tree. All is fragrance, verdure, and bloom. The indescribably beautiful Almeyda, with its geranium hedges and gorgeous-coloured flowers, occupies the broad esplanade at the base; while the blue surface of the Mediterranean, backed by the solemn outline of the Granada and Barbary hills, finishes the picture.

You have no idea what a nice little clean, pretty, bustling town Gibraltar is. The fortifications are a source of asto

nishment and delight to me. Their extent, size, and beauty must be seen to be appreciated. And as for the streetsthere you behold a daily masquerade of all nations! You are absolutely bewildered with the incessant variety of feature, complexion, and costume, which you encounter at every step. The noble countenance of the Spaniard, shadowed by his black steeple-hat; the turbaned Moor, with his clear olive cheek and large eye; the African Jew, with his hideous cowl of striped cloth; the Turk, the Negro, the Italian; and, though last, not least, the well-fed, fair, and comely Englishman, mingle in the variegated gala of this romantic town.-White.

GOOD GOVERNMENT.

Ir is essential to the goodness of a governor, or king, to guard the rights, secure the peace, and promote the prosperity of his subjects. No one can be called a good governor, who does not exercise his supremacy and authority in framing and executing laws for the protection and safety of his subjects. It is as essential to the character of a good ruler to punish vice as to reward virtue; to avenge the wrongs of his subjects, as to secure their interests: yea, the former is essential to the latter, since it is only the fear of punishment that restrains wicked men from violence. Should a ruler suffer crimes to go unpunished, the laws, however good and righteous in themselves, would presently lose their

authority, and government fall into contempt. Laws have no force any further than they are carried into execution; and authority loses its respect whenever it ceases to be exercised. Whenever the supreme magistrate neglects the execution of the laws, he loses the confidence of the people, and his regard to the public welfare becomes suspected. No one can confide in his public spirit, when he suffers the disturbers of the peace to go unpunished; for, ideas of true regard to public good as necessarily connect punishments with crimes as rewards with virtue. Should God pardon the sinner without taking effectual measures to minister conviction of his hatred of his sins, the evidence of his love to the public good would necessarily be defective. This, of course, would be a mode of administration exceedingly inconsistent with his original design in the creation and government of the world.— West.

THE SOUL OF MAN.

THE Soul of man is a great light reflected upon itself "the candle of the It is a beam from the sun,-a candle Lord, searching all the innermost parts." lighted from the Light of heaven. And the light of this candle is ever streaming out and reflowing upon itself; like a diamond always playing with and in its own light. It may be covered with the thickness and grossness of earthly va pours from the body; but it is inseparable from its nature to be light. It cannot but in some degree shine, and send out itself, though its beams be but pale and wan; but when it hath any greater freedom and resolutely moves itself, there is a circle of rays about it, which have broken out from itself. In its creation, in its native splendour, it was of angelic brightness, near to God, and Divine golries and all the excellences of understanding were its proper lustre ; and in eternity it will again rend all its clouds, and shine without interruptionand for ever!—Beverley.

GOOD AND EVIL.

Our of all earthly things there cometh out good and evil; the good through God, and the evil from the evil heart.— Coleridge.

ULLSWATER.

THE following account of Ullswater is from the pen of Mr. Wordsworth :-In order to see the lower part of the lake to advantage, it is necessary to go round by Pooley Bridge, and to ride at least three miles along the Westmoreland side of the water, towards Martindale. The views, especially if you ascend from the road into the fields, are magnificent; yet this is only mentioned that the transient visitant may know what exists; for it would be inconvenient to go in search of them. They who take this course of three or four miles on foot, should have a boat in readiness at the end of the walk, to carry them across to the Cumberland side of the lake, near Old Church, thence to pursue the road upwards to Patterdale. The churchyard yew-tree still survives at JULY, 1849.

Old Church, but there are no remains of a place of worship, a new chapel having been erected in a more central situation; which chapel was consecrated by the then bishop of Carlisle, when on his way to crown queen Elizabeth, he being the only prelate who would undertake the office. It may be here mentioned, that Bassenthwaite chapel yet stands in a bay as sequestered as the site of Old Church; such situations having been chosen in disturbed times to elude marauders.

The trunk or body of the Vale of Ullswater need not be further noticed, as its beauties show themselves; but the curious traveller may wish to know something of its tributary streams.

At Dalemain, about three miles from Penrith, a stream is crossed called the Dacre, or Dacor, which name it bore as early as the time of the venerable Bede.

U