stationary, without making any sensible
progress in manufactures or the arts.

Digging still further down, you arrive at a
level which you are at first tempted to regard
as virgin earth that has never borne the foot-
steps of man. Still, however, there are human
traces. After a little study, you cannot
mistake them. A mere notch in a bone, made with
the edge of a flint; a splinter knocked off the
flint, with the evidence of intention; a single
bit of wood, cut and not broken, prove the
presence of a human hand as clearly as a
carved inscription. The most intelligent animal
—the elephant, the dog, or the ape—is
incapable of making that notch. He breaks or
gnaws the wood; he can neither cut nor
slice it.

The accuracy of this reasoning was tested
by the visits of English geologists, who dared to
burst through the cautious scepticism adopted
by their brethren of France. Mr. Prestwich
says: "I myself detached a flint partly
fashioned into an axe, buried in the gravel
at a depth of more than five yards. A
labourer who was working in a trench,
disinterred without observing them a couple of
axes, which we picked up from the thrown-out
gravel." Sir Charles Lyell says: "The strata
containing these rude instruments reposed
immediately upon the chalk, and belong to the
period which followed the formation of the
pleiocene beds—that is, to the quaternary
period. The antiquity of the Amiens and
Abbeville flint instruments is very great, when
compared with the time embraced by history
and even by tradition. The disappearance of
the elephant, the rhinoceros, and other genera
of quadrupeds now strangers to Europe, in all
probability implies that a wide lapse of time
separates the epoch when these fossil instruments
were fashioned from that when the Romans
invaded Gaul."

In the work* in which M. de Perhes first
announced these facts, he gives figures both of
the instruments and of the images or
symbols. There are rough tools whose utility is
evident, either for hollowing out or boring,
even were they not fashioned by hand. There
are knives of the same description, formed of
oblong flints with a naturally rounded base, which
has been allowed to remain in its original state
in order to give greater strength to the handle.
The symbols and images of stone found in
Celtic tombs, are ordinarily those of the animals
whose bones are found in the same deposits.
A like fact occurs in the diluvian beds; but
the cause is different. In the case of the Celtic
remains, the juxtaposition was effected by the
hand of man; in the diluvian beds, by the
agency of the waters.

* Antiquités Celtiques et Antédiluviennes. 2
vols.

The remarkable analogy between the figures
of the Celtic tombs and the animals which lived
at that period, is not less striking in those
obtained from the diluvian beds. The reason is
simple. The antediluvian peoples, like the
Celtic people and like people at the present
day, could only reproduce copies of species
they had seen; and they copied those which
they beheld the most frequently. Among those
species, some were common to both the Celtic
and the diluvian periods—bears, stags, boars,
and oxen. But besides these, the diluvian
beds offer many figures which are never found
in Celtic deposits—notably of elephants and
rhinoceroses. There are also images of
problematical creatures whose types are now
unknown to us. Nevertheless, the abundance of
their copies in stone is a proof that such
creatures did once exist.

Many dogs' heads surprise by the freshness
of their chiselling; there is also a hippopotamus's
head. A bear sitting on his hind quarters
is almost humorously represented. Symbols
are frequently found which appear to represent
the enormous mastodons and antediluvian
elephants whose bones we discover mixed up
pell-mell with their portraits in flint. At the
period of the great inundation which formed
those deposits, these animals were very common
in Europe, as is proved by the abundance of
their remains.

A PORTRAIT, FROM MEMORY.

A PERSIAN princess, tall and fair,
With lustrous lengths of amber hair;
A lovely, tender, small child's face,
A floating step, a queenly grace;
A lily robe all striped and barred
With lines of gold, and diapered
With black, as once Venetian dames
Wore, and yet wear within the frames
Of Bonifazio, Tintoret,
And glorious Titian (jewels set
On palace walls within that shrine
Vowed to Thalasse the Divine,
Which men call Venice); and a smile
So innocent yet arch the while,
A child might smile thus; two grey eyes
With liquid subtle flatteries
For all they look on; frank, serene,
Pure from all grief or care or sin;
For grief will dim, sin leaves a stain
Which brightest eyes must still retain;
But hers are cloudless, clear, and bright,
Like angel eyes, all love, all light.

A rosy fan hung from her wrist
(A white flower by a houri kissed);
And round her fair throat's graceful curve
Were coral beads, whose hue might serve
To match the full lips, ripe and sweet;
So noble, perfect, and complete
Her beauty: yet she wears it calm
As queens their crown, as saints their palm.

Such was the vision once I saw,
Peerless, without a fleck or flaw,
Mid blossoms taint, and trembling trees
All fluttering in the soft south breeze.
The passionate air breathed forth desire,
Adoring Nature glowed with fire,