lowered by 00263 of an inch each year-a rate which would suffice in four and a half million years to lower the whole area to the level of the seashore. So that, if a small fraction of the layer of fine earth which is annually brought to the surface by worms is carried away, a great result cannot fail to be produced within a period which no geologist considers extremely long.' Not less interesting and useful, however, though on a less stupendous scale, is the work performed by worms in preparing the ground for cultivation. By periodically exposing the mould to the air, by sifting it so that no stones larger than the particles which they can swallow are left in it, and by mingling the whole intimately together, they do the very work which a gardener would prescribe in preparing fine soil for his choicest plants. The bones of dead animals, the harder parts of insects, the shells of land molluscs, leaves and twigs, are before long all buried beneath the accumulated castings of worms, and are thus brought in a more or less decayed state within reach of the roots of plants.' The leaves worms drag into their burrows are torn into the finest shreds, partially digested, saturated with their secretions, and then commingled with earth; and it is this earth which forms the so-called vegetable mould. Add to this, that worm-burrows very probably aid materially in the drainage of the soil, allow the air to penetrate deeply into the ground, and facilitate the downward passage of roots. Seeds, moreover, often owe their germination to having been covered by castings, and others are buried until they are accidentally uncovered at some future time, and then germinate. Not the least striking passage in the book is the following paragraph, with which Mr. Darwin concludes it: 'When we behold a wide, turf-covered expanse, we should remember that its smoothness, on which so much of its beauty depends, is mainly due to all the inequalities having been slowly levelled by worms. It is a marvellous reflection that the whole of the superficial mould over any such expanse has passed, and will again pass, every few years through the bodies of worms. The plough is one of the most ancient and most valuable of man's inventions; but long before he existed the land was in fact regularly ploughed, and still continues to be thus ploughed, by earth-worms. It may be doubted whether there are many other animals which have played so important a part in the history of the world, as have these lowly organised creatures. Some other animals, however, still more lowly organised, namely corals, have done far more conspicuous work in having constructed innumerable reefs and islands in the great oceans; but these are almost confined to the tropical zones.' Such Such are the main results of this mature and masterly contribution to Natural History. It will be seen that its excellence and its value consist not merely in the sagacity and genius with which a most unexpected and, as some thought, far-fetched idea has been worked out, but in the patience and persistency with which the idea has been verified by incontestable experiments and observations. Mr. Darwin is here on the strongest ground of his genius. He tells us not merely, as in some other of his writings, what he can conceive may be done by forces of which he can partially follow the operation, but what beyond question actually is done. There can no longer be any doubt that the insignificant creatures, which have been proverbially quoted as types of worthlessness, and degradation, have rendered, and are still rendering, incalculable services to the human race and to the development of the surface of the earth and of the history of the world. The perpetual emblem of mortality and destruction- The worm is spread under thee and the worms cover thee' (Is. xiv. 11)-is found to be also a regenerative power in nature. We cannot but conclude with one suggestion, which seems naturally to arise out of such a wonderful narrative. Is the accomplishment of such enormous results by an agency so insignificant, but at the same time so exactly adapted to the work to be done, explicable on any other supposition than that of positive design? It is observable that in this book we do not find any suggestion of the influences by which so singular an agency can have been evolved by natural selection. These infinitely numerous little ploughs seem to be expressly provided to prepare the earth for the sustentation of plants and of other animal life, and for no other purpose whatever. We can remember no more vivid illustration of the old argument which infers, from the perfect adaptation of means to ends, the action throughout nature of a Divine wisdom and will. ART. ART. VI.-The Comte de Montlosier et le Gallicanisme. Par A. Bardoux. 1 vol. Paris, 1881. THE HE traveller who, on his road from Clermont-Ferrand to Mont-Dore on the 20th of July, 1827, happened to pass Randanne at three o'clock in the afternoon, would have witnessed a strange spectacle. On the green platform, where the road divides, he would have seen with astonishment an old man standing with head uncovered. Behind him, motionless, seven couples of oxen harnessed to seven ploughs, six hundred sheep, and fifty cows. The old man was looking anxiously in the direction of Mont-Dore. Suddenly, on this side, a cloud of dust. A carriage in the cloud, and in the carriage a great lady. The old man made some steps in advance as if the carriage were about to stop. The carriage did not stop: the great lady did no more than bend her head: the old man, disconcerted and pensive, descended into the valley with his ploughs, his sheep, and his cows, which seemed to conform to his melancholy thoughts. Who was this old man, who was this great lady?'* The old man was the Comte de Montlosier: the great lady was the Dauphine of France. He had come to offer her the hospitality of his country-seat; and a cold haughty bend of the head in passing was his reward. He had been through life the champion of the altar and the throne, but he had resisted (what he thought) the too close and dangerous conjunction of the two. He had loyally served the restored House of Bourbon, but not precisely in the manner in which they expected to be served. He could not and would not shut his eyes to the constantly accumulating errors which precipi-, tated their fall. The acts and writings by which he had made his mark in history were an indignant and irritating protest against their policy. Nor were the members of this House alone in their repudiation of his counsels or his aid. adherence to party had always been limited and qualified, like his allegiance to the Crown. He had more than one impracticable theory of government, which he was wont to press for adoption in season and out of season. His prejudices militated against his judgment and his principles. His antipathies were stronger than his sympathies. His very force and originality of character isolated him; and his differences with his contemporaries not unfrequently recal the juryman who complained of having been shut up with eleven obstinate fellows who would not listen to reason: * 'Revue Politique et Littéraire de la France et de l'étranger,' No. 10. His 'In short, 't was his fate, unemploy'd, or in place, sir, He was fully aware of his peculiarities. In the Introduction to his Memoirs, he even relies upon them as a recommendation: 'The singularity of the facts will perhaps find favour for the singularity of my opinions.' Another attractive feature is their variety : 'It is my entire life that is about to be laid before the reader. My youth, my studies, my first faults: the States General, the Constituent Assembly, the emigration, the campaign of Champagne, my stay at Brussels, my relations with the Court of Vienna, my departure for London, my residence in England, my writings, my journal, my mission to the First Consul, my return to France, the sacrifice of my London journal, my admission to the Foreign Office, my work of "La Monarchie Française," my travels in Switzerland, my correspondence with Buonaparte, my travels in Italy, the First Restoration, my want of favour, the Hundred Days, the Second Restoration, a mark of bounty from Louis XVIII., my establishment at Randanne, various political works in continuation of "La Monarchie Française," the irruption of Jesuits, at first secret, then open and avowed, the detailed revelation of the system of congregations, the publication of the "Mémoire à Consulter" and some other writings on this subject, my dismissal (élimination) from the Foreign Office.I group thus, to give a general idea of them, the principal points of the career I am about to survey.' He rarely treats of an event or a transaction without investing it with an air of novelty, or comes into contact with a celebrity without carrying off a fresh trait or two in the shape of an anecdote or bon mot; and sooner or later he was brought in contact with most of the celebrities of three generations-with Voltaire, D'Alembert, Necker, Lafayette, Siéyès, Mirabeau, Mallet du Pan, Malouet, Burke, Windham, Napoleon, Louis XVIII., Charles X., Madame de Staël, Madame Recamier, Benjamin Constant, Chateaubriand, and a host of others. Unluckily, the larger and more important portion of his Memoirs are only known to us by description or report. On becoming a peer of France,' says M. Bardoux, Montlosier published, in 1832, two volumes of his Memoirs; but he left ready for publication two other volumes, on which, thanks to the obliging communication of his grandson, we have been able to draw abundantly.' The two volumes (now before us) were published in 1830, under the title of Mémoires de M. le Comte de Montlosier, sur la Révolution Française, le Consulat, l'Empire, et la Restauration, 1755-1830. These bring us down to his departure from Paris after the dissolution of the National Assembly in 1792. We are are dependent upon M. Bardoux for the rest, and the manner in which he has performed his delicate task only adds to our regret that he did not feel authorized to make a larger use of his opportunities. Our hero was born at Clermont in Auvergne, on the 16th of April, 1755, the year (he does not fail to record) of the Lisbon earthquake. He disclaims the designation of illustrious,' applied by a well-known writer to his family, which, he says, was simply noble. Their principal possessions were on the site of the ancient volcanoes of Puy de Dôme, and consisted of two estates, yielding a moderate revenue, with the title of baron.' He does not mention the family name (Reynaud), nor how he, a younger son, became Comte de Montlosier. His grandfather, after doing military service in the ban and arrière ban under Louis XIV., took a fancy to the daughter of his bailiff, who had been placed in an abbey under the protection of the Church. The Baron, with the assistance of his friends, made a breach in the wall and carried her off into the mountains, where they duly became man and wife. We are assured that this had been, time immemorial, an established usage in Auvergne and several other provinces: that there were few marriages of gentlemen at this epoch which were not made in the same manner: that the agreement of the parents and the engaged couple mattered nothing; and that a damsel with pretensions did not consider herself properly treated if her lover neglected to carry her off. The laws against this mode of wooing (which, we need hardly say, was not confined to France) were as severe as those against duelling, and were similarly set at nought: 'In the morning the judge, formally obeying the ordonnance, condemned the gentleman to be hanged, which he was in effigy. In the evening, the condemned criminal and the judge supped together, laughing together at the sentence and the crime. Madame de Sévigné, I believe, has narrated an incident of this kind. This is all I know of my grandfather, except that his end was unhappy. He was assassinated in a popular tumult which he was trying to repress.' Montlosier was the youngest of twelve children, and his father, who died when he was thirteen, appears to have taken little pains with his education, beyond placing him at a college or school under the Jesuits, who were suppressed by Royal edict in 1764. This was the great event of my life. Except my father, who laughed at it, all the family regarded their suppression as the beginning of the end of the world.' The professors by whom they were replaced inspired little confidence, and tacitly permitted the students to neglect the regular studies of the |