the oysters, they would necessarily be suffocated a danger from which they are protected by their long respiratory tubes. The powerful muscular foot, which they extend anteriorly, usually serves them as a famous spade, by whose aid they rapidly bide themselves in the sand, if a foe try to surprise them; many varieties also employ it for creeping or hopping. The common Cockle (Cardium edule), for instance, extends it as far as possible, presses it firmly against the ground, then rises by suddenly compressing it, and, rapidly repeating this manœuvre, moves along at a tolerable pace.

In other varieties, the motion is much more limited. Thus, the Razor Shells (Sole naceae) are contented to rise and sink in the perpendicular deep holes they bore, and do not quit them.

Most of the Bivalves, provided with respiratory tubes, live on the sandy and slimy coast, where they are found in such numbers that the flat sand is often covered with thousands of their empty shells; but there are some which burrow in wood or stone.

The Pholades secrete an acid juice, which softens the rock, so that they can easily excavate it by the aid of their shells. In this way, with the gradual growth of the animal, a pear-shaped cavity is formed, in which it is compelled to pass its whole life. The thicker portion of the body, on which the very short and powerful foot is found, fills the broad bottom of the excavation, while the long respiratory tube, which supplies the embedded Pholas with its supply of water, is pointed towards its narrow orifice. The movements of this animal are restricted to rising and sinking in its narrow prison. The majority are small, but there are some varieties which attain a length of five inches.

The fragile shell of the Pholas seems to have compelled it to burrow in hard stone; a similar necessity may compel the Teredo to dig its abode in wood.

The shell of this animal is very small in comparison with its worm-like body,

which frequently grows to the length of a foot; and hence it cannot be regarded in the light of a protection. In order to live in security, then, the Teredo bores into submerged wood deep passages, a quarter to a half inch in diameter, whose walls it plasters with a calcareous mass, closing the opening with two small lids. As it is very prolific, it has produced great injury in vessels and submarine buildings. As a protection against it, ships are covered with copper, and beams under water are thickly studded with nails. In the last century, it bored through the Dutch dykes to such an extent, that serious apprehensions were entertained for the safety of the country; and it cost millions to repair the damaged bulwarks.

Thus, a tiny animal caused the Batavians to tremble, whose heroism had braved the might of Philip II. and Louis XIV.

Still, it would be most onesided and unjust, were we not to recognise the service the Teredo offers man. If it has been a destroyer of useful constructions, on the other hand, it removes wrecks and sunken vessels, which might prove very dangerous to coasters, and silt up the entrance to many ports and rivers. It is very doubtful whether these benefits do not largely outweigh the mischief they cause.

The Pholades are also among the injurious animals; they gnaw and bore walls and calcareous piers, which man erects against the assaults of ocean, or for the purpose of forming artificial harbours and landing places, or they undermine their foundations, and gradually produce their destruction.

TEREDO.

NEVER, perhaps, had the countenance of his Majesty Francis II., Emperor of Austria, worn so cheerful an expression as it did upon a certain morning in the year of grace one thousand eight hundred and twenty-one.

At this epoch bathing establishments were rarities in Vienna, and the exorbitantly high prices charged by the proprietors of these few, had put it totally out of the power of the middle and lower classes of society to avail themselves of such expensive luxuries. Francis II., touched with this sad state of things, had ordered that two establishments of public baths should be constructed behind the Augarten-one for men and the other for women, in which all might enjoy the luxury of fresh water without any charge being made for their ablutions. On the 14th of June, 1821, the architect who had directed the works, had come to inform the Emperor that all was completed, and that from henceforth the poorest of his subjects would no longer be deprived of the salutary influence of the waters of the Danube. It was this welcome news that had lighted up the naturally sombre features of the Emperor of Austria, and had enticed to his lips a smile of satisfaction.

Francis II. was surrounded by the principal dignitaries of the empire, when the architect, who was named Weissberg, presented himself before his sovereign.

"Herr Weissberg," said the Emperor, "in former days it was the custom for sovereigns to recognise, by a gift, the pleasure which was procured by the bearer of good news. This good old custom has fallen into disuse, in our opinion, wrongfully, and it is our desire to revive it on this occasion, and in the person of our well-loved architect. Before we visit the Augarten, you shall receive a proof of our gratitude, as a mark of the peculiar esteem we entertain for your person."

On hearing the gracious words which fell sweeter than honey from their imperial master's lips, all the courtiers present cast glances of envy upon the favoured architect, whose heart beat high with illsuppressed joy and emotion.

"What is the brilliant recompense that the Emperor reserves for him? At what price is he going to reward the services of Weissberg ?"

While these and such like interrogations mentally uttered by each of the courtiers, held the minds of all present in a state of the utmost suspense, Francis II. prepared to honour with a visit the two bathing establishments constructed for the exclusive use of the people.

Already had he donned the closelyfitting surtout of blue cloth-his habitual costume whenever he desired to walk abroad incog., and when, like his august ancestor, the Emperor Joseph, he would ramble unattended over his capital, throwing aside the insignia of royalty in order the better to learn the wants and wishes of his people. The most profound silence reigned around. Francis turned to the architect.

"Herr Weissberg," said he, "we well know how firm is the attachment which you bear towards our person: previous to your receiving from our treasury the price stipulated for the works we have commanded at your hands, accept this souvenir; it is the friend that offers it, not the sovereign."

As he pronounced these words, Francis II. presented to the architect the hat of black felt which was accustomed to shelter the imperial brow whenever the coat of blue cloth touched the august shoulders.

Before explaining the motives of this action of the Emperor of Austria, which may possibly strike the uninitiated reader as a singular one, we will pause for one moment to ask if he has ever seen the bust of Francis II.-that in Carrara marble, for instance, by Zauner, which stands in the third room of the Museum of Natural History of Vienna? Those who have paused before this remarkable work-remarkable in every respect, but especially so for its striking resemblance to the original-must have had the opportunity of assuring themselves that the head of the Emperor of Austria, far from being round, square, or even oval, as the pericranii of the generality of human beings, was, on the contrary, long and of a conical form. The extreme degree of flatness on either side of the brow, about the region of the temples, must have principally attracted their attention. This extraordinary formation of skull rendered the operation of properly fitting the head of his imperial majesty a very difficult

matter for the hatter to achieve. It was difficult, indeed almost impossible, for the workman intrusted with this care to triumph over the almost insurmountable obstacles opposed by nature to his talents. Time alone and constant use, by softening and rendering flexible the stubborn felt, was enabled to work this miracle. It may easily be understood, then, how precious for the Emperor was a hat which adapted itself perfectly to his head,—a hat which was neither too wide nor too tight, nor uneasy, nor ridiculous in its appearance, but which designed like a cleverly constructed mould, the inequalities of the head it was destined to cover. The reader will from this comprehend the extent of the sacrifice imposed by Francis upon himself, when bestowing his faithful tricorne upon the architect Weissberg. It was a proof of affection, in comparison with which the disbursement of a large sum of money became an object of but secondary importance.

Weissberg, in all probability, was not of the same opinion, for he had the reputation at court of possessing a very ardent and particular affection for the coin of the realm. If the truth were known he would most certainly have preferred a few thousand ducats, or even florins, to all the hats of all the emperors in the world. That the testimony which he had just received had overthrown the golden dreams which his master's benevolent words had given birth to, was a fact beyond dispute; he was, however, an old enough courtier to be enabled to conceal within the deepest recesses of his heart, the disappointment and even anger that he felt at this overthrow of his hopes: a deceitful smile played round his lips as he replied to Francis II.

Ah, sire!" began the old hypocrite, "how grateful do I feel for this high mark of your favour! This hat, which your majesty has worn, has now become for me a relic which I would not cede for all the treasures of the East. With your majesty's permission I will depart this instant to suspend in my humble dwelling what I shall consider as the most precious portion of the dowry I shall leave to my daughter."

Go," replied the Emperor; "you can rejoin us at the Augarten."

Upon this same memorable morning of the 14th of June, 1821, a young man apparently of about five-and-twenty years of age, might have been seen sauntering along one of the shady alleys of the

Prater. The countenance of this solitary promenader betrayed an expression of profound sorrow. Occasionally a furtive tear would glisten for an instant on his eyelid; at times, also, his gestures were abrupt and irregular, and the glances which he would then cast about him were dark and threatening. He would at these times pause for a moment in his walk, and angrily spurn the sand of the alley with the heel of his boot.

This melancholy gentleman was named Leopold Spieldorf, and held the rank of surgeon in the third regiment of Cuirassiers, then quartered in Vienna.

Let us use our privilege of novelist for a few moments, and play the eavesdropper, in order to catch some fragments of the half-uttered phrases which from time to time escaped his lips; we may perhaps by this means learn the cause of the despair which appeared to have taken possession of his mind.

"Barbarous father!" murmured Spieldorf to himself, pausing in front of a magnificent limetree, on which he cast a glance of deadliest ire; "a stainless name, an honourable profession, a boundless love, are not, it appears, titles sufficient to gain the hand of your daughter! Barbarous father!" repeated he, proceeding a few steps further, and placing himself in a magnificent attitude before a chestnut tree in full blosom.;

After a few moments' silence he continued, threatening the innocent denizen of the forest with his clenched fist

"You know not, then, that it is my death! ay, my sentence of death that Without Louise you have pronounced! life is a blank for me! and you have refused your assent to our union because, in place of a rich inheritance, I have but an honest reputation to bring into your family, with a little celebrity and a true and loving heart. Miserly Weissberg !" cried he, continuing his walk, "heaven will surely punish you for causing thus the misery of myself and of your child!"

Another pause of a few moments.

"Come, courage!" exclaimed he, as he reached the last trees of the Prater; "all is not yet lost. Louise loves me, of that I am confident; and who knows but that she may succeed in overcoming her father's resolution; and then Providence will surely have compassion on us."

This short monologue dispenses with the necessity of our entering into minuter details. Leopold has initiated us into the most secret recesses of his heart.

ور

We now know that he is deeply in love with Louise, the architect's pretty daughter; that the "Fraulein returns his love; but that the poverty of the suitor has induced Weissberg to reject the offers of an alliance which had been made to him by our gallant and love-sick surgeon of the third regiment of Cuirassiers. Let us, then, continue our recital.

Herr Leopold Spieldorf, pursuing at the same time his train of thought and his road homewards, quitted that delight. ful promenade created, so to speak, by the Emperor Joseph, and proceeding along the suburb of the Jacgerzeil at length reached his dwelling. He had entered the house, and was about to close the door, when the sound of loud and angry voices, proceeding apparently from persons in violent altercation, reached his ears. They appeared to come from an opposite house, a species of low tavern, chiefly frequented by the soldiers of the garrison, among whom the men of the third Cuirassiers bestowed upon it no inconsiderable share of patronage. Spieldorf, fearing lest a brawl, which might possibly be attended with serious consequences, had arisen among the soldiers of the different regiments, determined to proceed forthwith to the scene of action, judging that his presence alone, his conciliating manners, his rank and his authority, would, in all probability, silence the noisiest, and prevent, perhaps, the occurrence of a serious disturbance.

As soon as the figure of Leopold was perceived, silence was restored as if by enchantment. This result will not be a very surprising one for those who are acquainted with the rigorous discipline of the Austrian army, the inflexibility of their martial laws, and the passive obedience of the soldiery towards their superiors. It is the code of Draco transported into the camp.

Fighting here!" said Spieldorf, casting an authoritative glance round the

demanded my money; that's the whole cause of the row."

"My commandant," said one of the two Cuirassiers, approaching Leopold, "this man has not told the whole truth. We certainly drank five bottles of strong beer, that is the only correct part of his story; but we have never sought to wrong him of a pffening, and the proof is that to settle our account we offered him this hat, formerly the property of his Majesty the Emperor, which a domestic of the palace gave this morning to my comrade here. This cursed Italian replied that he would not give it to his tomcat to wear. Those were his very expressions; whereupon we were about to chastise him for his insolence when you came in."

"And not only did they refuse to pa me," continued the landlord, "but they actually had the impudence to propose as an equivalent for five bottles of strong beer, a vile greasy old hat, picked up on some dunghill, on the pretext of its once having been the property of the Emperor."

It is indeed his Majesty's hat," now chimed in the Cuirassier who had not yet spoken; "I had it from Ferdinand, a domestic of the palace, whom you well know, Meinherr Boccolini, since he has been the means of your gaining more florins than you have hairs on your head. Ferdinand himself had it from an architect named Weissberg, who had received it from the hands of the Emperor."

"Well, it's nothing to me," replied Boccolini; "even if it were a cardinal's hat I would not have it. I don't take such coin in my house."

The dispute would have gone on cres cendo, had not Spieldorf imposed silence on all parties by the most effectual means in his power, namely, by paying the score of his two Cuirassiers.

"My commandant," said the owner of the imperial tricorne, "this hat now be longs to you."

Seeing clearly that a refusal would be wrongly interpreted by the soldiers, that even hinting such a thing would be considered as a proof of either an open disdain for, or of a secret animosity towards, the sacred person of their august monarch, Leopold took the hat from the hands of the Cuirassier, crossed the street, and disappeared within the recesses of his Tusculum.

Meanwhile Francis II. had been obliged to replace his cerebral covering. A new

hat was presented to him by a domestic, and accompanied only by one of his aides-de-camp, General Lederer, he set out for the Augarten.

During the hour which was consumed in his visit to the baths, the Emperor several times raised his hand to his hat, which, if the truth must be told, pinched hima horribly.

"What a devil of a hat!" he murmured to himself.

"What a devil of a head!" he might have exclaimed with more reason.

At one time he would raise his hat from

his head, then he would replace it again, and still the rebellious felt would obstinately refuse to lend itself to the exigencies of the imperial cranium. Francis II. was in torment; a deep red seam divided the royal forehead into two equal portions. This punishment at last became intolerable. He did not complain, however, but his patience being at length completely exhausted, he hastened his return to the palace.

On entering the private apartments the Emperor experienced a feeling of lively satisfaction in being at length enabled to get rid of this troublesome companion, which had, during his walk, held his brow enclosed as if in a vice, and had put his head to the torture.

"Most decidedly," exclaimed his Majesty, "it appears that I am to be con demned during my entire lifetime to wear the same hat; it is a sad truth, that I am, alas! fully convinced of. My dear Weiss berg, it is unworthy of a king, I know, to reclaim a gift once bestowed; but what am I to do? I am urged by cruel necessity. You will, I am sure, be kind enough to return me the hat which I gave you this morning; here is a ring which is well worth a hundred pieces of gold; pray ac cept it in exchange; it will amply in demnify you for your loss, while fifty rings such as this would not for me be worth that piece of old felt which I have worn for so many years,"

On hearing this demand made for the restitution of the tricorne, the face of the architect became alternately white, red, violet, and finally a melange of all the three colours at the same time. His eyes, distended by fear, rolled wildly in their sockets; his tongue, dry and parched, clove to the roof of his mouth; while the perspiration stood in large drops upon his cheeks and forehead.

"Well," continued the Emperor, "did you not hear ?"

"I pray your Majesty to pardon me," replied Weissberg, trembling like a leaf. "I did hear, certainly; but-that is

"You no longer have it in your possession ?"

"Oh, sire!" exclaimed the unhappy architect.

"Well then, what means this embarrassment, these exclamations, these sighs ?"

"Because-because-"

"I am impatient; because what? Come, finish."

Weissberg had completely lost his presence of mind; all the objects round him appeared as if floating in a mist; he scarcely knew where he was; his limbs no longer appeared capable of sustaining the weight of his body. While, to complete his confusion, the eyes of Francis II. were most obstinately fastened upon his countenance, as though they would have penetrated into his very soul, utterly putting to flight the small portion of sense still remaining in the mind of our unfortunate architect.

"Because," gasped out Weissberg, at length, "because it is at my dwelling. house."

"And this, after all, is the mouse which the mountain has brought forth," exclaimed the Emperor, laughing. I know very well it is at your dwellinghouse, since you took it there yourself this morning. Have the kindness, then, to go and seek it for me, or, if you would prefer it, I will despatch a messenger from the palace instead."

"Oh! no, no!" cried the architect, starting backward as though he were treading on red-hot coals. Oh, no! not for the world; I would rather go myself. Yes, yes, I'll go, I'll go," repeated he, as he made for the door; but his troubles were not yet over, or rather, were but just beginning, for in the hurry and agitation consequent upon his endeavours to beat a speedy retreat, he stumbled violently against, and upset, a table, on which was laid out a magnificent service of porcelain, a marvel of patience as well as of art, which had been presented to Francis II. by the workmen of the im perial manufactory of Rosann, each of the pieces of which it was composed having been valued at two hundred florins.

Hearing the crash of the falling china, Weissberg turned his head, muttered some unintelligible sounds, and, as if possessed by the demon of fear, which we all