many miles, are made up of animals so small that "eight millions of them do not fill up a space larger than a mustard seed." With these facts before us, is not there an added interest in examining the process by which, even in our age, new tracts of land are raised from the depths of ocean? If we had heard that the great Master builder of this world of ours intended to employ creature-agency in making islands, which among the many living beings that we know should we have judged most fit for the work? Birds build most curious nests; and one, the Megapodius, a native of Australia, and found also in the Possession Islands, constructs a mound ten or twelve feet high, with sloping sides from eighteen to twenty-four feet in length, piling up earth and fragments of coral to cover her eggs; ants rear large dome-like homes and granaries; beavers dam up running streams, plaster their huts and plant their villages; man builds cities and pyramids, and more wonderful breakwaters; but all these creaturely doings fall short of the productions of the coralworkers. This is one instance among many that shows us how God chooses weak things for mighty works.

We look at the four great departments of the animal kingdom, and passing by the three former, which include all the more highly-organized animals, such as mammals, birds, reptiles, fishes, insects, crustaceans, worms, and most shell-fish, we take the fourth department, radiata. This division has three classes-sea-urchins, jelly-fishes, and polyps. We take the lowest class, polyps. This class again

has three orders.

We take the second, sea-polyps, (actinoids ;) and thus we find ourselves almost at the lowest step of the descending scale of animated being.

The polyps are animals fixed to one place, like plants, having a series of flexible arms round their mouth. They have curious ways. Their number is increased not only by eggs, but also by buds that sprout from the parent body, and in some kinds by division. A cleft is seen in the perfect animal, slight at first, but constantly increasing in depth, till, after a time, two are formed out of one, so much alike that you could not tell the child from the parent. Some polyps are solitary, each having an independent stem and support. Others grow in company

on one common base. There is a singular connection subsisting among thousands of distinct individuals thus having a common body. There seems to be a transmission of will through the whole as perfect as in the limbs of a single animal. Thus a change of color at the base has been observed to spread upward to the tips of branching corallines. They remind one of buds on a tree, separate and yet united.

Observe the next specimen of coral that you meet with. You perceive the many small holes in its surface. When that was a living coral, the heads and arms of its inhabitants protruded from those holes; indeed, the stony part was often almost covered by the soft animal substance. The polyps have, however, the power of drawing themselves back into their hard framework. They are very large eaters; more particular about the quantity than the quality of their food. They help to clear away many impurities;

CARYOPHYLLIA ARBOREA.

and thus perform the same good office in the water that many kinds of insects, devourers of animal and vegetable decay, perform on the land.

The kinds of corals that are the chief reef-builders belong to the genera Madrepora, Astræa, Caryophyllia, Mæandrina, and Millepora.

The number of these polyps in the waters of warm climates is immense. Numbers beyond count are at work, day by day, in constructing their small but lasting cells; cells which are their homes while they live, and their graves when they die. It used to be thought that coral-polyps were able to build up steep walls from great depths in the sea; but this notion is not now regarded as true. No corals have been found living and working at a greater depth than from

MADREPORA ABROTANOIDE.

twenty to thirty fathoms. Say twentyfive and multiply by six, and this gives the number of feet below the sea to be

one hundred and fifty. "Their upward limit of growth is determined by the lowest water at spring-tides."

Living corals are never found building upon living corals. The reefs that they construct are raised layer upon layer, by successive generations; the houses of the living race having for their foundation the graves of the past race.

This "creation" is of three kinds, atolls, encircling, or barrier reefs, and fringing reefs. The atoll rises above the waves, a circular or oval strip of land, varying in breadth and inclosing a lake or lagoon of smooth water. This ringlike sea-wall has generally one, and often many openings. It is always highest on its windward side. The barrier reef is like the atoll, only it is either found running parallel to a coast, or inclosing one

or more islands. The largest coral reef in the world is the barrier reef that guards the northeast coast of Australia. It is one thousand one hundred miles in length, and varies in its distance from the shore from ten or fifteen to a hundred miles. Its mean distance is about thirty miles. The islands that are encircled by barrier reefs are often mountainous. Their shores are washed by the smooth waters of the lagoons, and about two or three miles off, the protecting ring shields lake and islets from the might of the ocean. Some travelers have likened these islets to castles surrounded first by a moat, and then by a strong wall of defense. Others have compared them "to a framed engraving, where the frame represents the breakers, the marginal paper the smooth lagoon, and the drawing the island itself."

Fringing reefs, as their name imports, skirt the margin of a shore. They are common to continents and islands. Within the lagoons the water is shallow, varying from one hundred and twenty to three hundred feet. Beyond the outer wall the sea is deep, and often unfathomable. Now we have seen that the coralpolyps cannot live and work in these deep places, and we know, too, that they must have some foundation on which to begin. It is also true that dead coral has been fetched up from depths below the range of living coral, and has been found on higher ground than any that the sea now washes. Mr. Darwin has a theory, now generally adopted, which accounts for these facts. He supposes that every atoll marks the site and traces the outline of sunken land. Wherever there is now a lagoon there was once an island with a girdle of coral around it. By slow degrees the land subsided, and as it sank lower and lower the corals round its base grew up higher and higher, till, when the downward progress of the land was stayed, no part of the original island was to be seen above the waves, and only a ring-like reef appeared-new land for new inhabitants.

Some of the present islands are known to be sinking very gradually, while some, in other parts of the ocean, are rising. The Friendly Archipelago consist of a group of atolls, upheaved and since partially worn down. I only state this view without attempting to prove its truth. Should you think the subject so interesting that you would like to know more about it, I would refer you to Darwin's book "On the Structure and Distribution of Coral Reefs," or to a shorter statement in his "Naturalists' Journal of a Voyage Round the World." Let me also name the fifty-first chapter of Lyell's

66

Principles of Geology."

The lagoon-inclosing reefs are very numerous in the Pacific. Mr. Jukes gives the following beautiful description of their appearance at a distance in his "Narrative of the Surveying Voyage of Her Majesty's Ship Fly:"

"There is considerable beauty in a small coral reef when viewed from a ship's masthead at a short distance in clear weather. A small island, with a white sand beach and a tuft of

the rich, dark blue of deep waters. All the sea is free from any mixture of sand or mud. Even when it breaks on a sand beach it retains its perfect purity, as the large grains of coral are heavy and do not break into mud, so that if a bucketful of coral sand be thrown into the sea, it may be seen gradually sinking like a white cloud, without producing any discoloration in the surrounding water. It is this perfect clearness which renders naviga

tion among coral reefs practicable, as a shoal with five fathoms water on it can be discerned at a mile distance from a ship's masthead, in consequence of its greenish hue contrasting with the blue of deep water."

The smooth and still waters of the lake have often been contrasted with the rush

and roar of the breakers beyond. We will quote Mr. Jukes again. He speaks of a reef a quarter of a mile wide, a fresh breeze, and a heavy sea running:

"The water is perfectly clear, and of great and almost unfathomable depth right up to the outer slope or submarine wall of the reef. The

long ocean swell being suddenly impeded by this barrier, lifted itself in one great continuous ridge of deep blue water, which, curling over, fell on the edge of the reef in an unbroken cataract of dazzling white foam. Each line of breakers was often one or two miles in length, with not a perceptible gap in its continuity."

Mr. Darwin says:

"The ocean throwing its breakers on these outer shores appears an invincible enemy, yet we see it resisted and even conquered by means which at first seem most weak and inefficient. No periods of repose are granted, and the long swell caused by the steady action of the trade wind never ceases. The breakers exceed in violence those of our temperate regions, and it is impossible to behold them without feeling a conviction that rocks of granite or quartz would ultimately yield and be demolished by such irresistible forces. Yet these low, insignificant coral islets stand and are victorious, for here takes part in the contest. The organic forces another power, as antagonist to the former, separate the atoms of carbonate of lime, one by one, from the foaming breakers, and unite them into a symmetrical structure. Myriads of architects are at work night and day, month, after month, and we see their soft and gelatinous bodies, through the agency of the vital laws, conquering the great mechanical power of the waves of an ocean, which neither the

art of man nor the inanimate works of nature could successfully resist."

The corals that are the chief agents in reef-making are much larger than those usually brought home as specimens. There are massive kinds at work on the outer shores that could not live within the

kinds flourish.

These gigantic corals far surpass in size, strength, and weight, any

fossil specimens that have been found. It is difficult to get a sight of them, alive and working, because of those heavy seas that break upon the outer reefs; but large | blocks are often rolled up by the waves and left upon the land.

I have been doubting whether to insert a passage in which Mr. Jukes describes a sheltered nook, on an extreme slope, "where every coral was in free life and luxuriance." But I cannot help thinking that you will admire the beauty and distinctness of the picture, in spite of the use of many terms that you may not yet understand:

"Round masses of mæandria and astrea were contrasted with delicate, leaf-like, and cup-shaped expansions of explanaria, and with an infinite variety of branching madrepore and seriatopora; some with mere finger-shaped projections, others with large branching stems, and others, again, exhibiting an elegant assemblage of interlacing twigs of the most exquisite workmanship. Their colors were unrivaled, vivid greens, con

trasting with more sober browns and yellows, mingled with rich shades of purple, from pale pink to deep blue. Bright red, yellow, and peach-colored nullipore clothed those masses that were dead, mingled with beautiful, pearly flakes of eschara and retepora; the latter looking like lacework in ivory. In among the branches of the corals, like birds among trees, floated many beautiful fish, radiant with me

tallic greens or crimsons, or fantastically banded with black and yellow stripes. Patches of clear white sand were seen here and there for the floor, with dark hollows and recesses beneath overhanging masses and ledges."

These bright creatures have not always peaceful lives. There are many kinds of sea animals that bore holes in the corals, and take up their lodging among them; while some kinds of fish prey upon them; and when the corals themselves die, other animals occupy their forsaken buildings. I have read a description of a block of coral that was brought up by a fish-hook from a considerable depth. Its substance was worn and dead; but it was covered with many small, delicate, and brightlycolored corallines, with sea-weed and sponges; and when broken up various kinds of boring shells were found within; while in the hollows and recesses lay worms twisted in and out, and three small species of crabs. Though not a foot in diameter, "it was a perfect museum in itself."

But how do reefs formed in the way I have described come to be islands, where trees grow and men live? We have seen that when the reef rises so high as to be

almost dry at low water, the corals cease to build. But large blocks of coral are often detached by the action first of the sun, and then of the sea, and are thrown upon the reef, so as to give it by degrees a higher elevation. Then the washing of the waves wears down the more delicate kinds of coral and rubs them into powder; and this powder fills up vacant spaces, while chemical precipitation aids in forming masses of limestone. Besides, wherever throughout the ocean rocks are found, there is also life in abundance. Sea-weed creeps over them; beds of oysters, of muscles, and of other shells, cover them in thick layers; large shoals of fish disport themselves and seek their prey around their edge. In "this great and wide sea are things creeping innumerable." The hard teeth and palates of fishes, and many kinds of shells, some among the largest and heaviest of known species, serve to increase the compacted mass. Drift timber is frequently cast ashore; stones of considerable size are occasionally brought entangled in the roots of trees; insects, especially such as feed on dead animals, abound, and seabirds find a resting place for themselves and their young. You may readily imagine how a fitting soil for stray seeds is soon formed, and how, as vegetation spreads, that soil becomes richer and more productive, till graceful and lofty trees lift their heads up toward the blue sky, above a thick growth of bushes and creeping plants. Lizards, and other small animals, are among the early inhabitants of the new land; and, at last, man comes, and soon proves himself to be master of the whole.

It is believed that the men who first peopled the Pacific Islands came from the mainland of Asia. Their appearance,

their language, and some of their customs, are regarded as justifying this view. Cases are frequent of canoes being carried to long distances in these seas; a Japanese junk was recently drifted, with its surviving crew, as far as the Sandwich Islands; and looking at a map, you may see how many stopping places there are between the Malay coast and the islands lying further east. You can imagine the population spreading, at intervals of time, to Borneo, Celebes, Bouro, and Ceram, the New-Hebrides, and so on to the various small groups in the Pacific.

THE

NATALIE'S MARRIAGE.

THE splendid city of St. Petersburg wore an air of unusual gayety and excitement on the morning of the 6th December, 18. In the immediate neighborhood of the Winter Palace, this excitement and bustle of preparation was manifest. Servants clad in the imperial livery were to be seen running to and fro in all directions; some assisting to lift into their places the most fragrant exotics, destined to decorate the sumptuous halls; others laden with some of the choicest flowers, looking gayer and more beautiful because of the contrast they presented to the dead winterseason out of doors; while to a third set of careful hands were intrusted the transport of the large light bandboxes containing the ball-dresses of her majesty's maids of honor.

All these signs of preparation for the coming festivity belonged especially to that day; for had not the Empress Alexandrine issued her invitations, commanding those so honored as to receive them to attend her annual ball, given in celebration of his majesty the Emperor Nicholas's name-day?

At noon, Nicholas reviewed his noble regiment of the Chevalier Guards in the Champ de Mars, taking occasion to compliment, with a few well-chosen words, his most efficient officers; on whom, also, he bestowed more tangible marks of his favor, by presenting them with medals of gold, bearing his likeness. From thence he drove to the ice-mountains, where the young cadets were amusing themselves after partaking of a splendid collation, provided for them by their imperial master. Ay, and right royal and noble did he look as he leaped from his sledge on arriving on the ground; and right glad and welcome rose the cheer from two hundred young voices, clear and shrill in the frosty air, greeting his presence among them.

Thus passed the hours of the fête-day. At ten o'clock at night, the windows of the Winter Palace presented one blaze of light; and the string of carriages drawn up to deposit the guests at the great doors, betokened that the crowning festivities of the day were about to begin. By eleven o'clock, the emperor and empress had entered the ball-room, and walked through the first Polonaise, when two very elegantly dressed ladies passed through the

crowds of decorated uniforms that obstructed their progress, and made their way up to the far end of the magnificent saloons, to the dais occupied by the empress. As they will play rather an important part in this narrative, I will describe their position in life and their personal appearance.

Although of Polish extraction, the elder of the two sisters-for such was their relationship-possessed the style of beauty most admired in Russia. She might have been about twenty-five years of age, and was fair, fresh-complexioned, and of middling stature; well formed, but with that full figure which gives promise in afterlife of embonpoint. Dressed with extreme taste, and blazing with jewels, she attracted many eyes as she floated through the room. Six or seven years earlier, she had married the Prince Gagarine, a noble well known to stand high in favor at court, but supposed to be so exclusively occupied with his military duties as to have but small sympathy with the wife so many years younger than himself. They had no children, and the interest and amusements of the Princess Gagarine centered in the world of gayety, where she filled a prominent place, and of which she was esteemed a most distinguished ornament.

On the evening in question, her look and whole manner denoted some especial cause of pride and pleasure, and it arose from the very legitimate circumstance that it was the first occasion of her sister's appearance in the highest society of the capital; and I call this pride and pleasure legitimate, for she filled in some degree the place of a mother to the young girl who accompanied her.

It may seem strange that this evening should have been the first introduction of that sister to the court, but it was the consequence of a train of circumstances somewhat unusual. Owing to the feeble health of their mother, she had been brought up in great retirement; and it was only on the death of this lady, some time before, that the duty of finishing her education, and presenting her to the world, had devolved on the princess. For this reason, a mixed feeling of curiosity and admiration pervaded the courtly crowd, who turned to gaze on the fair young companion the princess led so triumphantly to the foot of the throne.

Natalie Polensky was barely seventeen, and presented a great but charming con