The general subsidence of the bottom still continued, and, after a deposit of full ninety feet had overlain the conglomerate, the depth became still more profound than at first. A fine semi-calcareous, semi-aluminous deposition took place in waters perfectly undisturbed. And here we first find proof that this ancient ocean literally swarmed with life—that its bottom was covered with miniature forests of algæ, and its waters darkened by immense shoals of fish.

2. In middle autumn, at the close of the herring season, when the fish have just spawned, and the congregated masses are breaking up on shallow and skerry, and dispersing by myriads over the deeper seas, they rise at times to the surface by a movement so simultaneous that for miles and miles around the skiff of the fisherman nothing may be seen but the bright glitter of scales, as if the entire face of the deep were a blue robe spangled with silver.

3. I have watched them at sunrise at such seasons, on the middle of the Moray Frith, when, far as the eye could reach, the surface has been ruffled by the splash of fins, as if a light breeze swept over it, and the red light has flashed in gleams of an instant on the millions and tens of millions that were leaping around me, a handbreadth into the air, thick as hailstones in a thunder shower. The amazing amount of life which the scene included has imparted to it an indescribable interest.

4. On most occasions the inhabitants of ocean are seen but by scores and hundreds; for, in looking down into their green twilight haunts, we find the view bounded by a few yards, or at most a few fathoms; and we can but calculate on the unseen myriads of the surrounding expanse by the seen few that оссиру the narrow space visible. Here, however, it was not the few, but the myriads, that were seen— the innumerable and inconceivable whole-all palpable to the sight

as a flock on a hill-side; or, at least, if all was not palpable, it was only because sense has its limits in the lighter as well as the denser medium- that the multitudinous distracts it, and the distant eludes it, and the far horizon bounds it. If the scene spoke not of infinity in the sense in which Deity comprehends it, it spoke of it in at least the only sense in which man can comprehend it.

5. Now, we are much in the habit of thinking of such amazing multiplicity of being, when we think of it at all, with reference to but the later times of the world's history. We think of the remote past as a time of comparative solitude. We forget that the now uninhabited desert was once a populous city. Is the reader prepared to realize in connection with the lower old red sandstone-the second period of vertebrated existence- -scenes as amazingly fertile in life as the scene just described―oceans as thoroughly occupied with being as our friths and estuaries when the herrings congregate most abundantly on our coasts?

7. There are evidences too sure to be disputed that such must have been the case. I have seen the ichthyolite beds, where washed bare in the line of the strata, as thickly covered with oblong spindle-shaped nodules, as I have ever seen a fishing bank covered with herrings; and have ascertained that every individual nodule had its nucleus of animal matter,

that it was a stone coffin, in miniature, holding enclosed its organic mass of bitumen or bone,-its winged or enameled or thorn-covered ichthyolite.

LXXVII. THE GREATNESS OF SHAKSPEARE.

E. COLBERT.

[Eulogy pronounced at the Tercentenary Celebration, Chicago, April 23, 1864.] 1. The peculiar power of Shakspeare lies in the skill with which he delineates human nature. He does not attempt to create character, but to unfold it. He aims not to give to the world that which was not, but to reveal that which was and is, and ever shall be. . He sought not the vain glory of a Faust who was swallowed up by his own creation, but to hold the mirror to already existing nature, to give herself undisguisedly, "nothing extenuating nor setting down aught in malice;" to present the image of the things themselves, and edify or amuse only by their comparisons or contrasts. Beyond this he had no ambition, he soared not after the illimitable, or even the difficult; his situations are all possible, his actions natural; the substantive is presented first, then the verb; the accessories are applied judiciously, never with a too lavish hand.

2. It is of the heart that Shakspeare speaks; he probes to its inmost recesses, and lays bare its most hidden workings. The subterfuges of the hypocrite are like plastic clay in his hands. At 66 one fell swoop" he dives deep and brings to the surface the leading trait, which, there fixed, is surrounded by its necessary adjuncts only. In each of his personalities one sees the innate character, the primary motive of action; it shines out in every word, defying concealment. One touch, and the image is before you; not a thousand labored words, but one bold, truth-speaking line brings out in full relief all one needs to know. Another and another is treated with equal skill. Almost in the twinkling of an eye, the panorama is before you, its parts all separately introduced, yet so rapidly and so skillfully blended as to give the idea of complete, perfect oneness.

3. As he speaks of the heart, so he speaks to the heart. His portrayals are things of life-speaking likenesses. We appreciate them instantaneously. Not that it is given to any one man in any age to comprehend the inexhaustible variety of character to be found in his works, but that all not beyond our experience, and therefore above appreciation, is instantly recognized as a perfect personation. Hence the varying estimation in which Shakspeare is held. The most unlettered boor is melted to tears or carried away in raptures at a proper rendition of his characters, because there is a language of the heart which needs no learning to enable us to interpret.

4. But the boor comprehends not all. The more exquisite touches, the blendings of the natural with the artificial, are only to be duly appreciated as we rise in our knowledge of humanity. Our horizon is limited thus by what we know; but never yet has one attained to that elevation whence he could look down and beyond the confines of Shakspearian thought. He who knows most has always venerated the bard most highly, and inasmuch as the heart of man is substantially the same in all ages and under all conditions, variable only in its manifestation, the perfectly truthful is always recognizable under the shifting shams of civilized advancement. That which is true in one age is true in all; and the characters of Shakspeare will never die, never grow antiquated, but always retain the vigor and freshness of the Elizabethan age, so long as humanity itself endures.

5. The natal day of Shakspeare is also the day of St. George. While Englishmen may feel justly proud of his fame, they are only his more immediate neighbors. The whole world claims kin. A perfect cosmopolite in thought, he had made the learning of other people his own; he was equally at home in delineating the specialties of

men of foreign birth as of those who drew their first breath on his native soil.

6. Two hundred and forty-eight years have passed since the great one departed. He still lives his memory shall never die. Far as the wide range of civilization extends, his works are read. The Hindoo and the Laplander, equally with ourselves, appreciate them. In his writings, the great Shakspeare flourishes in immortal youth. When the conquerors of earth shall have been forgotten, he who opened up a new universe of thought shall be cherished in the memories of a grateful world. Each succeeding age does him greater homage, and when man shall have attained to the highest possible perfection of intellectual culture, then, and then only, will the value of the services which he rendered to humanity be really appreciated. The noble thoughts to which he first gave expression, will form the axiomata of future ages, and their purifying, elevating, ennobling influence, will largely tend to bring about that for which all men pray-the good time coming. Then, and then only, will his eulogium be written; then only will the world know how largely it has been indebted to William Shakspeare.

LXXVIII.—THE HERITAGE OF CULTURE.

1. Compare the condition of Christendom to-day with what it was when Roger Bacon's knowledge of mathematics was taken for witchcraft. Let the comparison include the physical condition and the intellectual and moral character of the people. The vast advance made since that period has required time. It has been the work of six centuries; and what one of the six has not made liberal contributions towards the grand result?

2. One gave Europe the germ of those now ancient uni versities in which the hearts and intellects of nations have