• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Half Title
 Frontispiece
 Title Page
 Dedication
 List of Illustrations
 Claucus
 Appendix
 Back Cover
 Spine






Title: Glaucus, or, The wonders of the shore
CITATION THUMBNAILS PAGE TURNER PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
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Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00026959/00001
 Material Information
Title: Glaucus, or, The wonders of the shore
Alternate Title: Wonders of the shore
Physical Description: xi, 245 p., 12 leaves of plates : col. ill. ; 19 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Kingsley, Charles, 1819-1875
Dickes, William, 1815-1892 ( Illustrator )
Macmillan & Co ( Publisher )
R. Clay, Sons, and Taylor ( Printer )
Publisher: Macmillan and Co.
Place of Publication: London
Manufacturer: R. Clay, Sons, and Taylor
Publication Date: 1873
Edition: 5th ed. corr. and enl. with coloured illustrations.
 Subjects
Subject: Marine animals -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Seashore ecology -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Seashore animals -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Natural history -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Naturalists -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1873
Genre: non-fiction   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
 Notes
Statement of Responsibility: by Charles Kingsley.
General Note: "The basis of this little book was an article which appeared in the North British Review for November, 1854"--P. 7.
General Note: Illustrations by W. Dickes.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00026959
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in Special Collections, George A. Smathers Libraries
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002232487
notis - ALH2881
oclc - 59820775

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Half Title
        Page i
        Page ii
    Frontispiece
        Page iii
    Title Page
        Page iv
        Page v
    Dedication
        Page vi
        Page vii
        Page viii
    List of Illustrations
        Page ix
        Page x
        Page xi
    Claucus
        Page 1
        Page 2
        Page 3
        Page 4
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
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    Appendix
        Page 229
        Page 230
        Plate I. Zoophyta. Polyzoa
            Page 231
            Page 232
            Page 233
            Page 234
            Page 235
            Page 236
            Page 237
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        Plate V. Corals and sea anemones. Caryophyllea smithii
            Page 239
            Page 240
            Page 241
        Plate VI. Corals and sea anemones. Actinia mesembryanthemum
            Page 242
            Page 243
        Plate VIII. Mollusca
            Page 244
            Page 245
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
    Spine
        Spine
Full Text






















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The Baldwi Library
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GLAU CU S;

OR,

THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.




e









Plate 6.


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k I \ I i It MIz I Ni II :11 \TI NI ,I


I ,I '"








GLAUCUS;


OOO


THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


BY

CHARLES KINGSLEY, F.S.A., F.L.S., ETC.,
AUTHOR OF "WESTWARD 110H" "HYPATIA,' ETC








FIFTH EDITION, CORRECTED AND ENLARGED;
WITH COLOURED ILLUSTRATIONS.


MACMILLAN AND
1873.


f ThIe eight of Trnanlation wod PprodcctioP is resermIV. I
















































LONDON:
R. CLAY, SONS, AND TAYLOR, PRINTERS,

BREAD STREET HILL.
















MY DEAR MISS GRENFELL,

I CANNOT forego the pleasure of dedicating
this little book to you; excepting of course the
opening exhortation (needless enough in your case)
to those who have not yet discovered the value of
Natural History. Accept it as a memorial of
pleasant hours spent by us already, and as an
earnest, I trust, of pleasant hours to be spent
hereafter (perhaps, too, beyond this life in the
nobler world to come), in examining together the
works of our Father in heaven.


Your grateful and faithful brother-in-law,

C. KINGSLEY.
BiDEFORD,
April 24, 1855.


Pfbirafion..
































The basis of this little book was an Article which appeared in the
North British Review for November 1854.

























BEYOND the shadow of the ship,
I watch'd the water snakes :
They moved in tracks of shining white,
And when they rear'd, the elfish light
Fell off in hoary flakes.


O happy living things! no tongue
Their beauty might declare :
A spring of love gush'd from my heart,
And I bless'd them unaware.
COLERIDGE'S Ancient Marinrr.





















LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.



WOOD ENGRAVINGS.
FIG. PAGE
1. Nymphon Abyssorum, NORMAN .. .... 8]
2. Caprella spinosissima, NORMAN .. 88
3. Pentacrinus asteria, LINNamUS . .. 85


COLOURED PLATES.
PLATE
1. 1. FLUSTRA LINEATA; (a) enlarged with polypes pro-
truding. 2. FLUSTRA FOLIACEA. 3. VALKERIA
CUSCUTA ; (a) natural size; (b) two tentacles; (c)
tentacles bent inwards ; (d) enlarged, showing the
gradual version of the animal. 4. CRISIA DEN-
TICULATA; (a) natural size. 5. GEMELLARIA LonI-
CATA; (a) natural size. 6. SERTULARIA ROSEA;
(a) natural size. 7. CELLULARIA CILTATA; (a)
natural size; (b) one of the bird's heads; (c) cell
and bird's head, much enlarged. 8. CAMPANU-
LARIA SYRINGA; (a) natural size. 9. CAMPANU-
LARIA VOLUBILIS, enlarged. 10. SERIALARIA
LENDIGERA. 11. NOTAM1A BURSAmIA; (a) natural
size; (b) two pairs of polype cells with the tobacco
pipe appendages . ... 7

2. 1. CARDIUM RUSTICUM, (TUBERCULATUM). 2. PAGU-
Rus BERNIRARDI, in a Periwinkle Shell 65
7j











X LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PLATE PAGE
3. 1. NEMERTIES BORLASII. 2. SABELLA ? 3. Sand-tube
of TEREBELLA CONOHILEGA (See Plate 8) 136

4. 1. SYNAPTA DIGITATA; (a) Ditto separating and
throwing out capsuliferous threads. 2. THALAS-
SIMA NEPTUNI. . . .109

5. 1. BALANOPHYLLEA REGIA, expanded; (a) Ditto, con-
tracted; (b) Ditto coral; (c) Ditto, tentacle en-
larged; 2. CARYOPHYLLEA SMITHII partly ex-
panded; (a) Ditto, section of bony plates; (b) Ditto,
tentacle. 3. SAGARTIA ANGUICOMA closed; (a)
Ditto, basal disc showing radiating septa. 4.
SYNAPTA DIGIrATA (See Plate 4); (a, b) Ditto,
fingered tentacles enlarged ; (c) Ditto, Spicule;
(d) Ditto, anchor lying on its transparent anchor-
plate. 5. S. VITTATA ? perforated anchor-plate;
(a) Spicula .. . . 117
6. 1. ACTINIA MESEMBRYANTHEMUM, partially expanded;
(a) Ditto, closed. 2. BUNODES CRASSICORNIS.
3. CARYOPHYLLEA SMITHII .. ront. 135
7. 1. ECHINUS MILIARIS, creeping over Modiola barbata.
2. Ditto, creeping up the glass. 3. Hiding under
stones. . .. .. 168

8. 1. LITTORINA LITTOREA (See Plate 9); (a) operculum;
(b) pallet; (c) ;part of pallet, magnified. 2. NASSA
RETICULATA (See Plate 11) ; (a) egg capsules; (b, c)
fry; (d) shell of fry; (e) pallet, magnified. 3.
PATELLA VULGARIS; (a) palate, natural size;
(b, c) Ditto, enlarged. 4. ECHINUS MILIAbIS (See
Plate 7); (a) teeth and digesting mill; (b) suckers,
enlarged; (e) spine and socket; (d) shell denuded;
(e) Pedicellaria. 5. NEMERTES BORLASII (See Plate
3); (a) head, enlarged; (b) head expanded swallow-
ing a Terebella. . . .201












LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. xi

PLATE PAGE
9. 1. CUCUMARIA HYNDMANNI. 2. LITTORINA LITTOREA.
3. SIPrUNCULuS BERNHARDUS in shell of TURRI-
TELLA, with living BALANI .. . 114

10. 1. SERPULA CONTORTUPLICATA. 2. IIINNITES PUSIO.
3. DORIS REPANDA. 4. EOLIS PELLUOIDA. 5.
PHOLADIDEA PAPYRACEA. 6. PHOLAS PARVA.
7. FISSURELLA GlECA . . 129

11. 1. SYNGNATHUS LUMBRICIFOIMIS. 2. SAXICAVA
RUGOSA; (a) Shell of SAXICAVA RUGOSA. 3.
NASSA RE ICULATA . . 163

12. 1. PEACHIA HASTAATA. 2. MASTER RUBENS 92















GLAUCUS;

OR,

THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


You are going down, perhaps, by railway, to pass
your usual six weeks at some watering-place along
the coast, and as you roll along think more than
once, and that not over-cheerfully, of what you
shall do when you get there. You are half-tired,
half-ashamed, of making one more in the ignoble
army of idlers, who saunter about the cliffs, and
sands, and quays; to whom every wharf is but a
" wharf of Lethe," by which they rot "dull as the
oozy weed." You foreknow your doom by sad
experience. A great deal of dressing, a lounge in
the club-room, a stare out of the window with the
telescope, an attempt to take a bad sketch, a walk








GLAUCUS; OR,


up one parade and down another, interminable
reading of the silliest of novels, over which you fall
asleep on a bench in the sun, and probably have
your umbrella stolen; a purposeless fine-weather
sail in a yacht, accompanied by many ineffectual
attempts to catch a mackerel, and the consumption
of many cigars; while your boys deafen your ears,
and endanger your personal safety, by blazing away
at innocent gulls and willocks, who go off to die
slowly; a sport which you feel to be wanton, and
cowardly, and cruel, and yet cannot find in your
heart to stop, because "the lads have nothing else
to do, and at all events it keeps them out of the bil-
liard-room ;" and after all, and worst of all, at night
a soulless r6chauff of third-rate London frivolity:
this is the life-in-death in which thousands spend
the golden weeks of summer, and in which you con-
fess with a sigh that you are going to spend them.
Now I will not be so rude as to apply to you
the old hymn-distich about one who


"- finds some mischief still
For idle hands to do : "








THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


but does it not seem to you, that there must surely
be many a thing worth looking at earnestly, and
thinking over earnestly, in a world like this, about
the making of the least part whereof God has em-
ployed ages and ages, further back than wisdom
can guess or imagination picture, and upholds that
least part every moment by laws and forces so com-
plex and so wonderful, that science, when it tries
to fathom them, can only learn how little it can
learn ? And does it not seem to you that six
weeks' rest, free from the cares of town business
and the whirlwind of town pleasure, could not be
better spent than in examining those wonders a
little, instead of wandering up and down like the
many, still wrapt up each in his little world of
vanity and self-interest, unconscious of what and
where they really are, as they gaze lazily around
at earth and sea and sky, and have

"No speculation in those eyes
Which they do glare withal" ?

Why not, then, try to discover a few of the Won-
ders of the Shore? For wonders there are there
B 2







GLAUCUS; OR,


around you at every step, stranger than ever opium-
eater dreamed, and yet to be seen at no greater
expense than a very little time and trouble.
Perhaps you smile, in answer, at the notion of
becoming a "Naturalist:" and yet you cannot
deny that there must be a fascination in the study
of Natural History, though what it is is as yet
unknown to you. Your daughters, perhaps, have
been seized with the prevailing "Pteridomania,"
and are collecting and buying ferns, with Ward*'.
cases wherein to keep them (for which you have to
pay), and wrangling over unpronounceable names of
species (which seem to be different in each new
Fern-book that they buy), till the Pteridomania
seems to you somewhat of a bore: and yet you
cannot deny that they find an enjoyment in it, and
are more active, more cheerful, more self-forgetful
over it, than they would have been over novels and
gossip, crochet and Berlin-wool. At least you will
confess that the abomination of "Fancy-work"-
that standing cloak for dreamy idleness (not to
mention the injury which it does to poor starving








THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


needlewomen)-has all but vanished from your
drawing-room since the "Lady-ferns" and "Venus's
hair" appeared; and that you could not help your-
self looking now and then at the said "Venus's
hair," and agreeing that Nature's real beauties were
somewhat superior to the ghastly woollen caricatures
which they had superseded.
You cannot deny, I say, that there is a fasci-
nation in this same Natural History. For do not
you, the London merchant, recollect how but last
summer your douce and portly head-clerk was
seized by two keepers in the act of wandering in
Epping Forest at dead of night, with a dark lan-
tern, a jar of strange sweet compound, and innu-
merable pocketfuls of pill-boxes; and found it very
difficult to make either his captors or you believe
that he was neither going to burn wheat-ricks, nor
poison pheasants, but was simply "sugaring the
trees for moths," as a blameless entomologist?
And when, in self-justification, he took you to his
house in Islington, and showed you the glazed and
corked drawers full of delicate insects, which had








GLAUCUS; OR,


evidently cost him in the collecting the spare hours
of many busy years, and many a pound, too, out of
his small salary, were you not a little puzzled to
make out what spell there could be in those "use-
less" moths, to draw out of his warm bed, twenty
miles down the Eastern Counties Railway, and into
the damp forest like a deer-stealer, a sober white-
headed Tim Linkinwater like him, your very best
man of business, given to the reading of Scotch
political economy, and gifted with peculiarly clear
notions on the currency question ?
It is puzzling, truly. I shall be very glad if these
pages help you somewhat toward solving the puzzle.
We shall agree at least that the study of Natural
History has become now-a-days an honourable one.
A Cromarty stonemason was till lately-God rest
his noble soul !-the most important man in the
City of Edinburgh, by dint of a work on fossil
fishes ; and the successful investigator of the
minutest animals takes place unquestioned among
men of genius, and, like the philosopher of old
Greece, is considered, by virtue of his science, fit








THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


company for dukes and princes. Nay, the study
is now more than honourable; it is (what to many
readers will be a far higher recommendation) even
fashionable. Every well-educated person is eager to
know something at least of the wonderful organic
forms which surround him in every sunbeam and
every pebble; and books of Natural History are
finding their way more and more into drawing-
rooms and school-rooms, and exciting greater thirst
for a knowledge which, even twenty years ago, was
considered superfluous for all but the professional
student.
What a change from the temper of two genera-
tions since, when the naturalist was looked on as
a harmless enthusiast, who went bug-hunting,"
simply because he had not spirit to follow a fox !
There are those alive who can recollect an amiable
man being literally bullied out of the New Forest,
because he dared to make a collection (at this
moment, we believe, in some unknown abyss of that
great Avernus, the British Museum) of fossil shells
from those very Hordwell Cliffs, for exploring which








GLAUCUS; OR,


there is now established a society of subscribers
and correspondents. They can remember, too,"
when, on the first appearance of Bewick's "British
Birds," the excellent sportsman who brought it
down to the Forest was asked, Why on earth he
had bought a book about "cock sparrows"? and
had to justify himself again and again, simply by
lending the book to his brother sportsmen, to con-
vince them that there were rather more than a dozen
sorts of birds (as they then held) indigenous to
Hampshire. But the book, perhaps, which turned.
the tide in favour of Natural History, among the
higher classes at least, in the south of England, was
White's "History of Selborne." A Hampshire gen-
tleman and sportsman, whom everybody knew,
had taken the trouble to write a book about the
birds and the weeds in his own parish, and the
every-day things which went on under his eyes,
and everyone else's. And all gentlemen, from the
Weald of Kent to the Vale of Blackmore, shrugged
their shoulders mysteriously, and said, "Poor fel-
low !" till they opened the book itself, and dis-








THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


covered to their surprise that it read like any novel.
And then came a burst of confused, but honest
admiration; from the young squire's "Bless me!
who would have thought that there were so many
wonderful things to be seen in one's own park!"
to the old squire's more morally valuable "Bless
me! why, I have seen that and that a hundred
times, and never thought till now how wonderful
they were !"
There were great excuses, though, of old, for the
contempt in which the naturalist was held; great
excuses for the pitying tone of banter with which
the Spectator talks of "the ingenious" Don Sal-
tero (as no doubt the Neapolitan gentleman talked
of Ferrante Imperato the apothecary, and his mu-
seum); great excuses for Voltaire, when he classes
the collection of butterflies among the other bizar-
reries de l'esprit humann" For, in the last gene-
ration, the needs of the world were different. It
had no time for butterflies and fossils. While
Buonaparte was hovering on the Boulogne coast,
the pursuits and the education which were needed







GLAUCUS; OR,


were such as would raise up men to fight him; so
the coarse, fierce, hard-handed training of our grand-
fathers came when it was wanted, and did the work
which was required of it, else we had not been
here now. Let us be thankful that we have had
leisure for science; and show now in war that our
science has at least not unmanned us.
Moreover, Natural History, if not fifty years ago,
certainly a hundred years ago, was hardly worthy
of men of practical common sense. After, indeed,
Linne, by his invention of generic and specific
names, had made classification possible, and by his
own enormous labours had shown how much could
be done when once a method was established, the
science has grown rapidly enough. But before him
little or nothing had been put into form definite
enough to allure those who (as the many always
will) prefer to profit by others' discoveries, than to
discover for themselves; and Natural History was
attractive only to a few earnest seekers, who found
too much trouble in disencumbering their own
minds of the dreams of bygone generations (whether







THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


facts, like cockatrices, basilisks, and krakens, the
breeding of bees out of a dead ox, and of geese
from barnacles; or theories, like those of the four
elements, the vis plastrix in Nature, animal spirits,
and the other musty heirlooms of Aristotleism and
Neo-platonism), to try to make a science popular,
which as yet was not even a science at all. Honour
to them, nevertheless. Honour to Ray and his
illustrious contemporaries in Holland and France.
Honour to Seba and Aldrovandus; to Pomet, with
his "Historie of Drugges;" even to the ingenious
Don Saltero, and his tavern-museum in Cheyne
Walk. Where all was chaos, every man was useful
who could contribute a single spot of organized
standing ground in the shape of a fact or a speci-
men. But it is a question whether Natural History
would have ever attained its present honours, had
not Geology arisen, to connect every other branch
of Natural History with problems as vast and awful
as they are captivating to the imagination. Nay,
the very opposition with which Geology met was
of as great benefit to the sister sciences as to itself.







GLAUCUS; OR,


For, when questions belonging to the most sacred
hereditary beliefs of Christendom were supposed to
be affected by the verification of a fossil shell, or
the proving that the Maestricht "homo diluvii
testis was, after all, a monstrous eft, it became
necessary to work upon Conchology, Botany, and
Comparative Anatomy, with a care and a reverence,
a caution and a severe induction, which had been
never before applied to them; and thus gradually,
in the last half-century, the whole choir of cosmical
sciences have acquired a soundness, severity, and
fulness, which render them, as mere intellectual
exercises, as valuable to a manly mind as Mathe-
matics and Metaphysics.
But how very lately have they attained that firm
and honourable standing ground! It is a question
whether, even twenty years ago, Geology, as it then
stood, was worth troubling one's head about, so little
had been really proved. And heavy and uphill
was the work, even within the last fifteen years,
of those who stedfastly set themselves to the task
of proving and of asserting at all risks, that the







THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


Maker of the coal seam and the diluvial cave could
not be a "Deus quidam deceptor," and that the
facts which the rock and the silt revealed were
sacred, not to be warped or trifled with for the sake
of any cowardly and hasty notion that they con-
tradicted His other messages. When a few more
years are past, Buckland and Sedgwick, Murchison
and Lyell, Delabeche and Phillips, Forbes and
Jamieson, and the group of brave men who accom-
panied and followed them, will be looked back
to as moral benefactors of their race; and almost
as martyrs, also, when it is remembered how much
misunderstanding, obloquy, and plausible folly they
had to endure from well-meaning fanatics like
Fairholme or Granville Penn, and the respectable
mob at their heels who tried (as is the fashion
in such cases) to make a hollow compromise be-
tween fact and the Bible, by twisting facts just
enough to make them fit the fancied meaning
of the Bible, and the Bible just enough to make
it fit the fancied meaning of the facts. But
there were a few who would have no compromise;






GLAUCUS; OR,


who laboured on with a noble recklessness, deter-
mined to speak the thing which they had seen, and
neither more nor less, sure that God could take
better care than they of His own everlasting truth.
And now they have conquered: the facts which
were twenty years ago denounced as contrary to
Revelation, are at last accepted not merely as con-
sonant with, but as corroborative thereof; and
sound practical geologists-like Hugh Miller. in
his "Footprints of the Creator," and Professor
Sedgwick, in the invaluable notes to his "Discourse
on the Studies of Cambridge "-have wielded in
defence of Christianity the very science which was
faithlessly and cowardly expected to subvert it.
But if you seek, reader, rather for pleasure than
for wisdom, you can find it in such studies, pure
and undefiled.
Happy, truly, is the naturalist. He has no time
for melancholy dreams. The earth becomes to him
transparent; everywhere he sees significancies, har-
monies, laws, chains of cause and effect endlessly
interlinked, which draw him out of the narrow







THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


sphere of self-interest and self-pleasing, into a pure
and wholesome region of solemn joy and wonder.
He goes up some Snowdon valley; to him it is a
solemn spot (though unnoticed by his companions),
where the stag's-horn clubmoss ceases to straggle
across the turf, and the tufted alpine clubmoss takes
its place: for he is now in a new world; a region
whose climate is eternally influenced by some fresh
law (after which he vainly guesses with a sigh at
his own ignorance), which renders life impossible
to one species, possible to another. And it is a still
more solemn thought to him, that it was not always
so; that eons and ages back, that rock which he
passed a thousand feet below was fringed, not as
now with fern and blue bugle, and white bramble-
flowers, but perhaps with the alp-rose and the
" gemsen-kraut" of Mont Blanc, at least with
Alpine Saxifrages which have now retreated a
thousand feet up the mountain side, and with the
blue Snow-Gentian, and the Canadian Ledum,
which have all but vanished out of the British
Isles. And what is it which tells him that strange







GLAUCUS; OR,


story? You smooth and rounded surface of rock,
polished, remark, across the strata and against the
grain; and furrowed here and there, as if by iron
talons, with long parallel scratches. It was the
crawling of a glacier which polished that rock-face;
the stones fallen from Snowdon peak into the half-
liquid lake of ice above, which ploughed those
furrows. XEons and eons ago, before the time when
Adam first

Embraced his Eve in happy hour,
And every bird in Eden burst
In carol, every bud in flower,"

those marks were there; the records of the Age
of ice;" slight, truly; to be effaced by the next
farmer who needs to build a wall; but unmistake-
able, boundless in significance, like Crusoe's one
savage footprint on the sea-shore; and the natu-
ralist acknowledges the finger-mark of God, and
wonders, and worships.
Happy, especially, is the sportsman who is also
a naturalist : for as he roves in pursuit of his game,
over hills or up the beds of streams where no one







THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


but a sportsman ever thinks of going, he will be
certain to see things noteworthy, which the mere
naturalist would never find, simply because he could
never guess that they were there to be found. I
do not speak merely of the rare birds which may
be shot, the curious facts as to the habits of fish
which may be observed, great as these pleasures
are. I speak of the scenery, the weather, the geo-
logical formation of the country, its vegetation, and
the living habits of its denizens. A sportsman, out
in all weathers, and often dependent for success on
his knowledge of "what the sky is going to do,"
has opportunities for becoming a meteorologist which
no one beside but a sailor possesses; and one has
often longed for a scientific gamekeeper or hunts-
man, who, by discovering a law for the mysterious
and seemingly capricious phenomena of "scent,"
might perhaps throw light on a hundred dark
passages of hygrometry. The fisherman, too,-
what an inexhaustible treasury of wonder lies at
his feet, in the subaqueous world of the commonest
mountain burn! All the laws which mould a
C






GLAUCUS; OR,


world are there busy, if he but knew it, fattening
his trout for him, and making them rise to the fly,
by strange electric influences, at one hour rather
than at another. Many a good geognostic lesson,
too, both as to the nature of a country's rocks, and
as to the laws by which strata are deposited, may
an observing man learn as he wades up the bed of
a trout-stream; not to mention the strange forms
and habits of the tribes, of water-insects. More-
over, no good fisherman but knows, to his sorrow,
that there are plenty of minutes, ay, hours, in each
day's fishing in which he would be right glad of
any employment better than trying to

"Call spirits from the vasty deep,"

who will not

"Come when you do call for them."

What to do, then ? You are sitting, perhaps, in
your coracle, upon some mountain tarn, waiting
for a wind, and waiting in vain.


"Keine luft an keine seite,
Todea-stille flirchterlich;"








THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


as Gdthe has it-
"Und der schiffer sieht bekiimmert
Glatte flache rings umher."

You paddle to the shore on the side whence the
wind ought to come, if it had any spirit in it;
tie the coracle to a stone, light your cigar, lie
down on your back upon the grass, grumble, and
finally fall asleep. In the meanwhile, probably,
the breeze has come on, and there has been half-
an-hour's lively fishing curl; and you wake just
in time to see the last ripple of it sneaking off at
the other side of the lake, leaving all as dead-calm
as before.
Now how much better, instead of falling asleep,
to have walked quietly round the lake side, and
asked of your own brains and of Nature the ques-
tion, "How did this lake come here? What does
it mean ?"
It is a hole in the earth. True, but how was
the hole made ? There must have been huge
forces at work to form such a chasm. Probably
the mountain was actually opened from within by
c2








GLAUCUS; OR,


an earthquake; and when the strata fell together
again, the portion at either end of the chasm,
being perhaps crushed together with greater force,
remained higher than the centre, and so the water
lodged between them. Perhaps it was formed thus.
You will at least agree that its formation must
have been a grand sight enough, and one during
which a spectator would have had some difficulty
in keeping his footing.
And when you learn that this convulsion pro-
bably took place at the bottom of an ocean hun-
dreds of thousands of years ago, you have at least
a few thoughts over which to ruminate, which will
make you at once too busy to grumble, and ashamed
to grumble.
Yet, after all, I hardly think the lake was formed
in this way, and suspect that it may have been dry
for ages after it emerged from the primeval waves,
and Snowdonia was a palm-fringed island in a
tropic sea. Let us look the place over more care-
fully.
You see the lake is nearly circular; on the side








THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


where we stand the pebbly beach is not six feet
above the water, and slopes away steeply into the
valley behind us, while before us it shelves gra-
dually into the lake; forty yards out, as you know,
there is not ten feet water; and then a steep bank,
the edge whereof we and the big trout know well,
sinks suddenly to unknown depths. On the oppo-
site side, that flat-topped wall of rock towers up
shoreless into the sky, seven hundred feet perpen-
dicular; the deepest water of all we know is at its
very foot. Right and left, two shoulders of down
slope into the lake. Now turn round and look
down the gorge, Remark that this pebble bank
on which we stand reaches some fifty yards down-
ward: you see the loose stones peeping out every-
where. We may fairly suppose that we stand on
a dam of loose stones, a hundred feet deep.
But why loose stones ?-and if so, what matter ?
and what wonder ? There are rocks cropping out
everywhere down the hill-side.
Because if you will take up one of these stones
and crack it across, you will see that it is not of






GLAUCUS; OR,


the same stuff as those said rocks. Step into the
next field and see. That rock is the common
Snowdon slate, which we see everywhere. The two
shoulders of down, right and left, are slate, too;
you can see that at a glance. But the stones of
the pebble bank are a close-grained, yellow-spotted
rock. They are Syenite; and (you may believe
me or not, as you will) they were once upon a
time in the condition of a hasty pudding heated to
some 800 degrees of Fahrenheit, and in that con-
dition shoved their way up somewhere or other
through these slates. But where? whence on earth
did these Syenite pebbles come? Let us walk
round to the cliff on the opposite side and see.
It is worth while; for even if my guess be wrong,
there is good spinning with a brass minnow round
the angles of the rocks.
Now see. Between the cliff-foot and the sloping
down is a crack, ending in a gully; the nearer side
is of slate, and the further side, the cliff itself, is
-why, the whole cliff is composed of the very
same stone as the pebble ridge.







THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


Now, my good friend, how did these pebbles get
three hundred yards across the lake ? Hundreds
of tons, some of them three feet long: who carried
them across? The old Cymry were not likely to
amuse themselves by making such a breakwater up
here in No-man's-land, two thousand feet above the
sea: but somebody or something must have carried
them; for stones do not fly, nor swim either.
Shot out of a volcano ? As you seem deter-
mined to have a prodigy, it may as well be a suffi-
ciently huge one.
Well-these stones lie altogether; and a volcano
would have hardly made so compact a shot, not
being in the habit of using Eley's wire cartridges.
Our next hope of a solution lies in John Jones,
who carried up the coracle. Hail him, and ask
him what is on the top of that cliff ... So,
" Plainshe and pogshe, and another Llyn." Very
good. Now, does it not strike you that this whole
cliff has a .i uk i1 lv smooth and plastered look,
like a hare's run up an earthbank And do you
not see that it is polished thus only over the lake ?







GLAUCUS; OR,


that as soon as the cliff abuts on the downs right
and left, it forms pinnacles, caves, broken angular
boulders? Syenite usually does so in our damp
climate, from the "weathering" effect of frost and
rain: why has it not done so over the lake? On
that part something (giants perhaps) has been
scrambling up or down on a very large scale, and
so rubbed off every corner which was inclined to
come away, till the solid core of the rock was bared.
And may not those mysterious giants have had a
hand in carrying the stones across the lake? .
Really, I am not altogether jesting. Think a while
what agent could possibly have produced either
one or both of these effects ?
There is but one; and that, if you have been
an Alpine traveller-much more if you have been
a Chamois hunter-you have seen many a time
(whether you knew it or not) at the very same work.
Ice? Yes; ice; Hrymir the frost-giant, and no
one else. And if you will look at the facts, you
will see how ice may have done it. Our friend
John Jones's report of plains and bogs and a lake







THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


above makes it quite possible that in the "Ice age"
(Glacial Epoch, as the big-word-mongers call it)
there was above that cliff a great nev6, or snowfield,
such as you have seen often in the Alps at the
head of each glacier. Over the face of this cliff a
glacier has crawled down from that nev6, polishing
the face of the rock in its descent: but the snow,
having no large and deep outlet, has not slid down
in a sufficient stream to reach the vale below, and
form a glacier of the first order; and has therefore
stopped short on the other side of the lake, as a
glacier of the second order, which ends in an ice-
cliff hanging high up on the mountain side, and
kept from further progress by daily melting. If
you have ever gone up the Mer de Glace to the
Tacul, you saw a magnificent specimen of this
sort on your right hand, just opposite the Tacul,
in the Glacier de Trelaporte, which comes down
from the Aiguille de Charmoz.
This explains our pebble-ridge. The stones which
the glacier rubbed off the cliff beneath it it carried
forward, slowly but surely, till they saw the light







GLAUCUS; OR,


again in the face of the ice-cliff, and dropped out
of it under the melting of the summer sun, to form
a huge dam across the ravine; till, the "Ice age"
past, a more genial climate succeeded, and nev6
and glacier melted away: but the "moraine" of
stones did not, and remains to this day, as the
dam which keeps up the waters of the lake.
There is my explanation. If you can find a
better, do: but remember always that it must in-
clude an answer to-" How did the stones get
across the lake ? "
Now, reader, we have had no abstruse science
here, no long words, not even a microscope or a
book: and yet we, as two plain sportsmen, have
gone back, or been led back by fact and common
sense, into the most awful and sublime depths,
into an epos of the destruction and re-creation of
a former world.
This is but a single instance; I might give
hundreds. This one, nevertheless, may have some
effect in awakening you to the boundless world of
wonders which is all around you, and make you







THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


ask yourself seriously, "What branch of Natural
History shall I begin to investigate, if it be but
for a few weeks, this summer ?"
To which I answer, Try "the Wonders of the
Shore." There are along every sea-beach more
strange things to be seen, and those to be seen
easily, than in any other field of observation which
you will find in these islands. And on the shore
only will you have the enjoyment of finding new
species, of adding your mite to the treasures of
science.
For not only the English ferns, but the natural
history of all our land species, are now well-nigh
exhausted. Our home botanists and ornithologists
are spending their time now, perforce, in verifying
a few obscure species, and bemoaning themselves,
like Alexander, that there are no more worlds left
to conquer. For the geologist, indeed, and the en-
tomologist, especially in the remoter districts, much
remains to be done, but only at a heavy outlay ol
time, labour, and study; and the dilettante (and
it is for dilettanti, like myself, that I principally







GLAUCUS; OR,


write) must be content to tread in the tracks of
greater men who have preceded him, and accept
at second or third hand their foregone conclusions.
But this is most unsatisfactory; for in giving up
discovery, one gives up one of the highest enjoy-
ments of Natural History. There is a mysterious
delight in the discovery of a new species, akin to
that of seeing for the first time, in their native
haunts, plants or animals of which one has till then
only read. Some, surely, who read these pages
have experienced that latter delight; and, though
they might find it hard to define whence the plea-
sure arose, know well that it was a solid pleasure,
the memory of which they would not give up for
hard cash. Some, surely, can recollect, at their first
sight of the Alpine Soldanella, the Rhododendron,
or the black Orchis, growing upon the edge of the
eternal snow, a thrill of emotion not unmixed with
awe; a sense that they were, as it were, brought
face to face with the creatures of another world;
that Nature was independent of them, not merely
they of her; that trees were not merely made to







THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


build their houses, or herbs to feed their cattle, as
they looked on those wild gardens amid the wreaths
of the untrodden snow, which had lifted their gay
flowers to the sun year after year since the foun-
dation of the world, taking no heed of man, and all
the coil which he keeps in the valleys far below.
And even, to take a simpler instance, there are
those who will excuse, or even approve of, a writer
for saying that, among the memories of a month's
eventful tour, those which stand out as beacon-
points, those round which all the others group
themselves, are the first wolf-track by the road-side
in the Kyllwald; the first sight of the blue and
green Roller-birds, walking behind the plough like
rooks in the tobacco-fields of Wittlich; the first
ball of Olivine scraped out of the volcanic slag-
heaps of the Dreisser-Weiher; the first pair of
the Lesser Bustard flushed upon the downs of the
Mosel-kopf; the first sight of the cloud of white
Ephemere, fluttering in the dusk like a summer
snowstorm between us and the black cliffs of
the Rheinstein, while the broad Rhine beneath






GLAUOUS; OR,


flashed blood-red in the blaze of the lightning and
the fires of the Mausenthurm-a lurid Acheron
above which seemed to hover ten thousand unburied
ghosts; and last, but not least, on the lip of the
vast Mosel-kopf crater-just above the point where
the weight of the fiery lake has burst the side of
the great slag-cup, and rushed forth between two
cliffs of clink-stone across the downs, in a clanging
stream of fire, damming up rivulets, and blasting
its path through forests, far away toward the valley
of the Moselle-the sight of an object for which
was forgotten for the moment that battle-field of
the Titans at our feet, and the glorious panorama,
Hundsruck and Taunus, Siebengebirge and Ar-
dennes, and all the crater peaks around; and which
was-smile not, reader-our first yellow foxglove.
But what is even this to the delight of finding
a new species ?-of rescuing (as it seems to you)
one more thought of the Divine mind from Hela,
and the realms of the unknown, unclassified, un-
comprehended ? As it seems to you: though in
reality it only seems so, in a world wherein not






THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


a sparrow falls to the ground unnoticed by our
Father who is in heaven.
The truth is, the pleasure of finding new species
is too great; it is morally dangerous; for it brings
with it the temptation to look on the thing found as
your own possession, all but your own creation; to
pride yourself on it, as if God had not known it for
ages since; even to squabble jealously for the right
of having it named after you, and of being recorded
in the Transactions of I-know-not-what Society as
its first discoverer:-as if all the angels in heaven
had not been admiring it, long before you were
born or thought of.
But to be forewarned is to be forearmed; and
I seriously counsel you to try if you cannot find
something new this summer along the coast to
which you are going. There is no reason why you
should not be so successful as a friend of mine who,
with a very slight smattering of science, and very
desultory research, obtained in one winter from the
Torbay shores three entirely new species, beside
several rare animals which had escaped all natu-







GLAUCUS; OR,


ralists since the lynx-eye of Colonel Montagu dis-
cerned them forty years ago.
And do not despise the creatures because they
are minute. No doubt we should most of us prefer
discovering monstrous apes in the tropical forests
of Borneo, or stumbling upon herds of gigantic
Ammon sheep amid the rhododendron thickets of the
Himalaya: but it cannot be; and "he is a fool,"
says old Hesiod, who knows not how much better
half is than the whole." Let us be content with
what is within our reach. And doubt not that in
these tiny creatures are mysteries more than we
shall ever fathom.
The zoophytes and microscopic animalcules which
people every shore and every drop of water, have
been now raised to a rank in the human mind more
important, perhaps, than even those gigantic mon-
sters whose models fill the lake at the Crystal
Palace. The research which has been bestowed,
for the last century, upon these once unnoticed
atomies has well repaid itself; for from no branch
of physical science has more been learnt of the







THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


scientia scientiarum, the priceless art of learning;
no branch of science has more utterly confounded
the wisdom of the wise, shattered to pieces systems
and theories, and the idolatry of arbitrary names,
and taught man to be silent while his Maker speaks,
than this apparent pedantry of zoophytology, in
which our old distinctions of "animal," "vege-
table," and "mineral" are trembling in the balance,
seemingly ready to vanish like their fellows-" the
four elements" of fire, earth, air, and water. No
branch of science has helped so much to sweep away
that sensuous idolatry of mere size, which tempts
man to admire and respect objects in proportion to
the number of feet or inches which they occupy in
space. No branch of science, moreover, has been more
humbling to the boasted rapidity and omnipotence
of the human reason, or has more taught those who
have eyes to see, and hearts to understand, how
weak and wayward, staggering and slow, are the
steps of our fallen race (rapid and triumphant
enough in that broad road of theories which leads
to intellectual destruction) whensoever they tread
D







GLAUCUS; OR,


the narrow path of true science, which leads (if I
may be allowed to transfer our Lord's great parable
from moral to intellectual matters) to Life; to the
living and permanent knowledge of living things
and of the laws of their existence. Humbling,
truly, to one who looks back to the summer of
1754, when good Mr. Ellis, the wise and benevolent
West Indian merchant, read before the Royal
Society his paper proving the animal nature of
corals, and followed it up the year after by that
"Essay toward a Natural History of the Corallines,
and other like Marine Productions of the British
Coasts," which forms the groundwork of all our
knowledge on the subject to this day. The chapter
in Dr. G. Johnston's "British Zoophytes," p. 407, or
the excellent little rdsumd thereof in Dr. Lands-
borough's book on the same subject, is really a
saddening one, as one sees how loth were, not
merely dreamers like Marsigli or Bonnet, but
sound-beaded men like Pallas and Linn6, to give up
the old sense-bound fancy, that these corals were
vegetables, and their polypes some sort of living







THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


flowers. Yet, after all, there are excuses for them.
Without our improved microscopes, and while the
sciences of comparative anatomy and chemistry
were yet infantile, it was difficult to believe what
was the truth; and for this simple reason: that, as
usual, the truth, when discovered, turned out far
more startling and prodigious than the dreams
which men had hastily substituted for it; more
strange than Ovid's old story that the coral was
soft under the sea, and hardened by exposure to
air; than Marsigli's notion, that the coral-polypes
were its flowers; than Dr. Parsons' contemptuous
denial, that these complicated forms could be "the
operations of little, poor, helpless, jelly-like animals,
and not the work of more sure vegetation;" than
Baker the microscopist's detailed theory of their
being produced by the crystallization of the mineral
salts in the sea-water, just as he had seen "the
particles of mercury and copper in aquafortis assume
tree-like forms, or curious delineations of mosses
and minute shrubs on slates and stones, owing
to the shooting of salts intermixed with mineral
D2







GLAUCUS; OR,


particles:"-one smiles at it now: yet these men
were no less sensible than we; and if we know
better, it is only because other men, and those few
and far between, have laboured amid disbelief,
ridicule, and error; needing again and again to
retrace their steps, and to unlearn more than they
learnt, seeming to go backwards when they were
really progressing most: and now we have entered
into their labours, and find them, as I have just
said, more wondrous than all the poetic dreams
of a Bonnet or a Darwin. For who, after all, to
take a few broad instances (not to enlarge on
the great root-wonder of a number of distinct
individuals connected by a common life, and form-
ing a seeming plant invariable in each species),
would have dreamed of the "bizarreries" which
these very zoophytes present in their classifi-
cation ?
You go down to any shore after a gale of wind, and
pick up a few delicate little sea-ferns. You have
two in your hand, which probably look to you, even
under a good pocket magnifier, identical or nearly








THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


so.' But you are told to your surprise, that however
like the dead horny polypidoms which you hold may
be, the two species of animal which have formed
them are at least as far apart in the scale of creation
as a quadruped is from a fish. You see in some
Musselburgh dredger's boat the phosphorescent sea-
pen (unknown in England), a living feather, of the
look and consistency of a cock's comb; or the still
stranger sea-rush (Virgularia mirabilis), a spine a
foot long, with hundreds of rosy flowerets arranged
in half-rings round it from end to end; and you
are told that these are the congeners of the great
stony Venus's fan which hangs in seamen's cottages,
brought home from the West Indies. And ere you
have done wondering, you hear that all three are
congeners of the ugly, shapeless, white dead man's
hand," which you may pick up after a storm on
any shore. You have a beautiful madrepore or
brain-stone on your mantel-piece, brought home

1 Sertularia operculata and Gemellaria loriculata; or any of the
small Sertularis, compared with Crisice and Cellularice, are very
good examples. For a fuller description of these, see Appendix
explaining Plate I.







GLAUCUS; OR,


from some Pacific coral-reef. You are to believe
that its first cousins are the soft, slimy sea-anemones
which you see expanding their living flowers in
every rock-pool-bags of sea-water, without a trace
of bone or stone. You must believe it; for in
science, as in higher matters, he who will walk
surely, must "walk by faith and not by sight."
These are but a few of the wonders which the
classification of marine animals affords; and only
drawn from one class of them, though almost as
common among every other family of that sub-
marine world whereof Spenser sang-

"Oh, what an endless work have I in hand,
To count the sea's abundant progeny !
Whose fruitful seed far passeth those in land,
And also those which won in th' azure sky.
For much more earth to tell the stars on high,
Albe they endless seem in estimation,
Than to recount the sea's posterity;
So fertile be the flouds in generation,
So huge their numbers, and so numberless their nation."


But these few e:: ii,.l:, will be sufficient to
account both for the slow pace at which the know-
ledge of sea-animals has progressed, and for the







THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


allurement which men of the highest attainments
have found, and still find, in it. And when to this
we add the marvels which meet us at every step
in the anatomy and the reproduction of these
creatures, and in the chemical and mechanical
functions which they fulfil in the great economy
of our planet, we cannot wonder at finding that
books which treat of them carry with them a cer-
tain charm of romance, and feed the play of fancy,
and that love of the marvellous which is inherent
in man, at the same time that they lead the reader
to more solemn and lofty trains of thought, which
can find their full satisfaction only in self-forgetful
worship, and that hymn of praise which goes up
ever from land and sea, as well as from saints and
martyrs and the heavenly host, 0 all ye works
of the Lord, and ye, too, spirits and souls of
the righteous, praise Him, and magnify Him for
ever !"
I have said, that there were excuses for the old
contempt of the study of Natural History. I have
said, too, it may be hoped, enough to show that







GLAUCUS; OR,


contempt to be now ill-founded. But still, there
are those who regard it as a mere amusement, and
that as a somewhat effeminate one; and think that
it can at best help to while away a leisure hour
harmlessly, and perhaps usefully, as a substitute for
coarser sports, or for the reading of novels. Those,
however, who have followed it out, especially on the
sea-shore, know better. They can tell from expe-
rience, that over and above its accessory charms of
pure sea-breezes, and wild rambles by cliff and loch,
the study itself has had a weighty moral effect upon
their hearts and spirits. There are those who can
well understand how the good and wise John Ellis,
amid all his philanthropic labours for the good of
the West Indies, while he was spending his intellect
and fortune in introducing into our tropic settle-
ments the bread-fruit, the mangosteen, and every
plant and seed which he hoped might be useful for
medicine, agriculture, and commerce, could yet feel
himself justified in devoting large portions of his
ever well-spent time to the fighting the battle of
the corallines against Parsons and the rest, and even







THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


in measuring pens with Linne, the prince of natu-
ralists.
There are those who can sympathise with
the gallant old Scotch officer mentioned by some
writer on sea-weeds, who, desperately wounded in
the breach at Badajos, and a sharer in all the toils
and triumphs of the Peninsular war, could in his
old age show a rare sea-weed with as much triumph
as his well-earned medals, and talk over a tiny
spore-capsule with as much zest as the records of
sieges and battles. Why not? That temper which
made him a good soldier may very well have made
him a good naturalist also. The late illustrious
geologist, Sir Roderick Murchison, was also an old
Peninsular officer. I doubt not that with him, too,
the experiences of war may have helped to fit him
for the studies of peace. Certainly, the best natu-
ralist, as far as logical acumen, as well as earnest
research, is concerned, whom England has ever
seen, was the Devonshire squire, Colonel George
Montagu, of whom the late E. Forbes well says,
that "had he been educated a physiologist" (and







GLAUCUS; OR,


not, as he was, a soldier and a sportsman), "and
made the study of Nature his aim and not his
amusement, his would have been one of the greatest
names in the whole range of British science." I
question, nevertheless, whether he would not have
lost more than he would have gained by a different
training. It might have made him a more learned
systematizer ; but would it have quickened in him
that seeing" eye of the true soldier and sportsman,
which makes Montagu's descriptions indelible word-
pictures, instinct with life and truth ? "There is
no question," says E. Forbes, after bewailing the
vagueness of most naturalists, "about the identity
of any animal Montagu described .He was a
forward-looking philosopher; he spoke of every
creature as if one exceeding like it, yet different
from it, would be washed up by the waves next
tide. Consequently his descriptions are permanent."
Scientific men will recognize in this the highest
praise which can be bestowed, because it attri-
butes to him the highest faculty-The Art of
Seeing; but the study and the book would not







THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


have given that. It is God's gift wheresoever
educated: but its true school-room is the camp and
the ocean, the prairie and the forest; active, self-
helping life, which can grapple with Nature her-
self: not merely with printed books about her.
Let no one think that this safne Natural History is
a pursuit fitted only for effeminate or pedantic men.
I should say, rather, that the qualifications required
for a perfect naturalist are as many and as lofty
as were required, by old chivalrous writers, for the
perfect knight-errant of the Middle Ages: for (to
sketch an ideal, of which I am happy to say our
race now affords many a fair realization) our per-
fect naturalist should he strong in body; able to
haul a dredge, climb a rock, turn a boulder, walk
all day, uncertain where he shall eat or rest;
ready to face sun and rain, wind and frost, and to
eat or drink thankfully anything, however coarse
or meagre; he should know how to swim for his
life, to pull an oar, sail a boat, and ride the first horse
which comes to hand; and, finally, he should be
a thoroughly good shot, and a skilful fisherman;







GLAUCUS; OR,


and, if he go far abroad, be able on occasion to
fight for his life.
For his moral character, he must, like a knight
of old, be first of all gentle and courteous, ready
and able to ingratiate himself with the poor, the
ignorant, and the savage; not only because foreign
travel will be often otherwise impossible, but be-
cause he knows how much invaluable local informa-
tion can be only obtained from fishermen, miners,
hunters, and tillers of the soil. Next, he should
be brave and enterprising, and withal patient and
undaunted; not merely in travel, but in investi-
gation; knowing (as Lord Bacon might have put it)
that the kingdom of Nature, like the kingdom of
Heaven, must be taken by violence, and that only
to those who knock long and earnestly does the
great mother open the doors of her sanctuary. He
must be of a reverent turn of mind also; not
rashly discrediting any reports, however vague and
fragmentary; giving man credit always for some
germ of truth, and giving Nature credit for an
inexhaustible fertility and variety, which will keep






THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


him his life long always reverent, yet never super-
stitious; wondering at the commonest, but not sur-
prised by the most strange; free from the idols of
size and sensuous loveliness; able to see grandeur
in the minutest objects, beauty in the most un-
gainly; estimating each thing not carnally, as the
vulgar do, by its size or its pleasantness to the
senses, but spiritually, by the amount of Divine
thought revealed to him therein; holding every
phenomenon worth the noting down; believing that
every pebble holds a treasure, every bud a reve-
lation; making it a point of conscience to pass
over nothing through laziness or hastiness, lest the
vision once offered and despised should be with-
drawn; and looking at every object as if he were
never to behold it again.
Moreover, he must keep himself free from all
those perturbations of mind which not only weaken
energy, but darken and confuse the inductive
faculty; from haste and laziness, from melancholy,
testiness, pride, and all the passions which make
men see only what they wish to see. Of solemn








GLAUCUS; OR,


and scrupulous reverence for truth; of the habit
of mind which regards each fact and discovery, not
as our own possession, but as the possession of its
Creator, independent of us, our tastes, our needs,
or our vain-glory, I hardly need to speak; for it is
the very essence of a naturalist's faculty-the very
tenure of his existence : and without truthfulness
science would be as impossible now as chivalry
would have been of old.
And last, but not least, the perfect naturalist
should have in him the very essence of true chivalry,
namely, self-devotion; the desire to advance, not
himself and his own fame or wealth, but knowledge
and mankind. He should have this great virtue;
and in spite of many shortcomings (for what man is
there who liveth and sinneth not ?), naturalists as a
class have it to a degree which makes them stand
out most honourably in the midst of a self-seeking
and mammonite generation, inclined to value every-
thing by its money price, its private utility. The
spirit which gives freely, because it knows that it
has received freely; which communicates knowledge







THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


without hope of reward, without jealousy and
mean rivalry, to fellow-students and to the world;
which is content to delve and toil comparatively
unknown, that from its obscure and seemingly
worthless results others may derive pleasure, and
even build up great fortunes, and change the very
face of cities and lands, by the practical use of some
stray talisman which the poor student has invented
in his laboratory;-this is the spirit which is abroad
among our scientific men, to a greater degree than
it ever has been among any body of men for many
a century past; and might well be copied by those
who profess deeper purposes and a more exalted
calling, than the discovery of a new zoophyte, or
the classification of a moorland crag.
And it is these qualities, however imperfectly they
may be realized in any individual instance, which
make our scientific men, as a class, the wholesomest
and pleasantest of companions abroad, and at home
the most blameless, simple, and cheerful, in all
domestic relations; men for the most part of man-
ful heads, and yet of childlike hearts, who have






GLAUCUS; OR,


turned to quiet study, in these late piping times
of peace, an intellectual health and courage which
might have made them, in more fierce and troublous
times, capable of doing good service with very
different instruments than the scalpel and the
microscope.
I have been sketching an ideal: but one which
I seriously recommend to the consideration of all
parents; for, though it be impossible and absurd to
wish that every young man should grow up a natu-
ralist by profession, yet this age offers no more
wholesome training, both moral and intellectual,
than that which is given by instilling into the young
an early taste for outdoor physical science. The
education of our children is novw more than ever a
puzzling problem, if by education we mean the
development of the whole humanity, not merely of
some arbitrarily chosen part of it. How to feed
the imagination with wholesome food, and teach it
to despise French novels, and that sugared slough
of sentimental poetry, in comparison with which the
old fairy-tales and ballads were manful and rational;







THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


how to counteract the tendency to shallowed and
conceited sciolism, engendered by hearing popular
lectures on all manner of subjects, which can only
be really learnt by stern methodic study; how to
give habits of enterprise, patience, accurate obser-
vation, which the counting-house or the library will
never bestow; above all, how to develop the phy-
sical powers, without engendering brutality and
coarseness,-are questions becoming daily more and
more puzzling, while they need daily more and
more to be solved, in an age of enterprise, travel,
and emigration, like the present. For the truth
must be told, that the great majority of men who
are now distinguished by commercial success, have
had a training the directly opposite to that which
they are giving to their sons. They are for the
most part men who have migrated from the country
to the town, and had in their youth all the advan-
tages of a sturdy and manful hill-side or sea-side
training; men whose bodies were developed, and
their lungs fed on pure breezes, long before they
brought to work in the city the bodily and mental
E







GLAUCUS; OR,


strength which they had gained by loch and moor.
But it is not so with their sons. Their business
habits are learnt in the counting-house; a good
school, doubtless, as far as it goes: but one which
will expand none but the lowest intellectual faculties;
which will make them accurate accountants, shrewd
computers and competitors, but never the originators
of daring schemes, men able and willing to go forth
to replenish the earth and subdue it. And in the
hours of relaxation, how much of their time is
thrown away, for want of anything better, on fri-
volity, not to say on secret profligacy, parents know
too well; and often shut their eyes in very despair
to evils which they know not how to cure. A
frightful majority of our middle-class young men
are growing up effeminate, empty of all knowledge
but what tends directly to the making of a fortune;
or rather, to speak correctly, to the keeping up the
fortunes which their fathers have made for them;
while of the minority, who are indeed thinkers and
readers, how many women as well as men have we
seen wearying their souls with study undirected,







THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


often misdirected; craving to learn, yet not knowing
how or what to learn; cultivating, with unwhole-
some energy, the head at the expense of the body
and the heart; -catching up with the most capricious
self-will one mania after another, and tossing it
away again for some new phantom; gorging the
memory with facts which no one has taught them
to arrange, and the reason with problems which
they have no method for solving; till they fret
themselves in a chronic fever of the brain, which
too often urges them on to plunge, as it were, to
cool the inward fire, into the ever-restless seas of
doubt or of superstition. It is a sad picture. There
are many who may read these pages whose hearts
will tell them that it is a true one. What is wanted
in these cases is a methodic and scientific habit of
mind; and a class of objects on which to exercise
that habit, which will fever neither the speculative
intellect nor the moral sense; and those physical
science will give, as nothing else can give it.
Moreover, to revert to another point which we
touched just now, man has a body as well as a
E2







GLAUCUS; OR,


mind; and with the vast majority there will be no
wmens sana unless there be a corpus sanum for it
to inhabit. And what outdoor training to give our
youths is, as we have already said, more than ever
puzzling. This difficulty is felt, perhaps, less in
Scotland than in England. The Scotch climate
compels hardiness; the Scotch bodily strength
makes it easy; and Scotland, with her mountain-
tours in summer, and her frozen lochs in winter,
her labyrinth of sea-shore, and, above all, that
priceless boon which Providence has bestowed on
her, in the contiguity of her great cities to the
loveliest scenery, and the hills where every breeze is
health, affords facilities for healthy physical life
unknown to the Englishman, who has no Arthur's
Seat towering above his London, no Western Islands
sporting the ocean firths beside his Manchester.
Field sports, with the invaluable training which
they give, if not
"The reason firm,"
yet still
"The temperate will,
Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill,"






THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


have become impossible for the greater number:
and athletic exercises are now, in England at least,
becoming more and more artificialized and expensive;
and are confined more and more-with the honour-
able exception of the football games in Battersea
Park-to our Public Schools and the two elder
Universities. All honour, meanwhile, to the Volun-
teer movement, and its moral as well as its physical
effects. But it is only a comparatively few of the
very sturdiest who are likely to become effective
Volunteers, and so really gain the benefits of learn-
ing to be soldiers. And yet the young man who
has had no substitute for such occupations will
cut but a sorry figure in Australia, Canada, or
India; and if he stays at home, will spend many
a pound in doctors' bills, which could have been
better employed elsewhere. "Taking a walk"-
as one would take a pill or a draught-seems
likely soon to become the only form of outdoor
existence possible for too many inhabitants of the
British Isles. But a walk without an object, unless
in the most lovely and novel of scenery, is a poor






GLAUCUS; OR,


exercise; and as a recreation, utterly nil. I never
knew two young lads go out for a "constitutional,"
who did not, if they were commonplace youths,
gossip the whole way about things better left un-
spoken; or, if they were clever ones, fall on arguing
and brainsbeating on politics or metaphysics from
the moment they left the door, and return with their
wits even more heated and tired than they were
when they set out. I cannot help fancying that
Milton made a mistake in a certain celebrated
passage; and that it was not "sitting on a hill
apart," but tramping four miles out and four miles
in along a turnpike-road, that his hapless spirits
discoursed
Of fate, free-will, foreknowledge absolute,
And found no end, in wandering mazes lost."

Seriously, if we wish rural walks to do our
children any good, we must give them a love for
rural sights, an object in every walk; we must
teach them--and we can teach them-to find
wonder in every insect, sublimity in every hedge-
row, the records of past worlds in every pebble, and







THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


boundless fertility upon the barren shore; and so,
by teaching them to make full use of that limited
sphere in which they now are, make them faithful
in a few things, that they may be fit hereafter to
be rulers over much.
I may seem to exaggerate the advantages of such
studies; but the question after all is one of expe-
rience: and I have had experience enough and to
spare that what I say is true. I have seen the
young man of fierce passions, and uncontrollable
daring, expend healthily that energy which threat-
ened daily to plunge him into recklessness, if not
into sin, upon hunting out and collecting, through
rock and bog, snow and tempest, every bird and egg
of the neighboring forest. I have seen the culti-
vated man, craving for travel and for success in life,
pent up in the drudgery of London work, and yet
keeping his spirit calm, and perhaps his morals all
the more righteous, by spending over his microscope
evenings which would too probably have gradually
been wasted at the theatre. I have seen the young
London beauty, amid all the excitement and temp-






GLAUCUS; OR,


station of luxury and flattery, with her heart pure
and her mind occupied in a boudoir full of shells
and fossils, flowers and sea-weeds; keeping her-
self unspotted from the world, by considering the
lilies of the field, how they grow. And therefore
it is that I hail with thankfulness every fresh book
of Natural History, as a fresh boon to the young,
a fresh help to those who have to educate them.
The greatest difficulty in the way of beginners
is (as in most things) how "to learn the art of
learning." They go out, search, find less than they
expected, and give the subject up in disappoint-
ment. It is good to begin, therefore, if possible,
by playing the part of "jackal" to some practised
naturalist, who will show the tyro where to look,
what to look for, and, moreover, what it is that he
has found; often no easy matter to discover.
Forty years ago, during an autumn's work of dead-
leaf-searching in the Devon woods for poor old
Dr. Turton, while he was writing his book on British
land-shells, the present writer learnt more of the
art of observing than he would have learnt in three







THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


years' desultory hunting on his own account; and
he has often regretted that no naturalist has esta-
blished shore-lectures at some watering-place, like
those up hill and down dale field-lectures which,
in pleasant bygone Cambridge days, Professor Sedg-
wick used to give to young geologists, and Professor
Henslow to young botanists.
In the meanwhile, to show you something of what
may be seen by those who care to see, let me take
you, in imagination, to a shore where I was once at
home, and for whose richness I can vouch, and
choose our season and our day to start forth, on
some glorious September or October morning, to
see what last night's equinoctial gale has swept
from the populous shallows of Torbay, and cast
up, high and dry, on Paignton sands.
Torbay is a place which should be as much
endeared to the naturalist as to the patriot and to
the artist. We cannot gaze on its blue ring of
water, and the great limestone bluffs which bound
it to the north and south, without a glow passing
through our hearts, as we remember the terrible and







GLAUGUS; OR,


glorious pageant which passed by in the glorious
July days of 1588, when the Spanish Armada
ventured slowly past Berry Head, with Elizabeth's
gallant pack of Devon captains (for the London
fleet had not yet joined) following fast in its wake,
and dashing into the midst of the vast line, undis-
mayed by size and numbers, while their kin and
friends stood watching and praying on the cliffs,
spectators of Britain's Salamis. The white line of
houses, too, on the other side of the bay, is Brix-
ham, famed as the landing-place of William of
Orange; the stone on the pier-head, which marks
his first footsteps on British ground, is sacred in the
eyes of all true English Whigs; and close by stands
the castle of the settler of Newfoundland, Sir
Humphrey Gilbert, Raleigh's half-brother, most
learned of all Elizabeth's admirals in life, most
pious and heroic in death. And as for scenery,
though it can boast of neither mountain peak nor
dark fiord, and would seem tame enough in the eyes
of a western Scot or Irishman, yet Torbay surely
has a soft beauty of its own. The rounded hills







THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


slope gently to the sea, spotted with squares of
emerald grass, and rich red fallow fields, and parks
full of stately timber trees. Long lines of tall elms
run down to the very water's edge, their boughs
unwarped by any blast; here and there apple
orchards are bending under their loads of fruit, and
narrow strips of water-meadow line the glens, where
the red cattle are already lounging in richest
pastures, within ten yards of the rocky pebble
beach. The shore is silent now, the tide far out:
but six hours hence it will be hurling columns of
rosy foam high into the sunlight, and sprinkling
passengers, and cattle, and trim gardens which
hardly know what frost and snow may be, but see
the flowers of autumn meet the flowers of spring,
and the old year linger smilingly to twine a garland
for the new.
No wonder that such a spot as Torquay, with its
delicious Italian climate, and endless variety of rich
woodland, flowery lawn, fantastic rock-cavern, and
broad bright tide-sand, sheltered from every wind
of heaven except the soft south-east, should have







GLAUCUS; OR,


become a favourite haunt, not only for invalids, but
for naturalists. Indeed, it may well claim the
honour of being the original home of marine
zoology and botany in England, as the Firth of
Forth, under the auspices of Sir J. G. Dalyell, has
been for Scotland. For here worked Montagu,
Turton, and Mrs. Griffith, to whose extraordinary
powers of research English marine botany almost owes
its existence, and who survived to an age long
beyond the natural term of man, to see, in her cheer-
ful and honoured old age, that knowledge become
popular and general which she pursued for many a
year unassisted and alone. Here, too, the scientific
succession is still maintained by Mr. Pengelly and
Mr. Gosse, the latter of whom by his delightful and,
happily, well-known books has done more for the
study of marine zoology than any other living man.
Torbay, moreover, from the variety of its rocks,
aspects, and sea-floors, where limestones alternate
with traps, and traps with slates, while at the
valley-mouth the soft sandstones and hard conglo-
merates of the new red series slope down into the







THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


tepid and shallow waves, affords an abundance
and variety of animal and vegetable life, unequalled,
perhaps, in any other part of Great Britain. It
cannot boast, certainly, of those strange deep-sea
forms which Messrs. Alder, Goodsir, and Laskey
dredge among the lochs of the western High-
lands, and the sub-marine mountain glens of the
Zetland sea; but it has its own varieties, its
own ever-fresh novelties: and in spite of all the
research which has been lavished on its shores, a
naturalist cannot, I suspect, work there for a winter
without discovering forms new to science, or meet-
ing with curiosities which have escaped all ob-
servers, since the lynx eye of Montagu espied them
full fifty years ago.
Follow us, then, reader, in imagination, out of
the gay watering-place, with its London shops and
London equipages, along the broad road beneath
the sunny limestone cliff, tufted with golden furze;
past the huge oaks and green slopes of Tor Abbey;
and past the fantastic rocks of Livermead, scooped
by the waves into a labyrinth of double and triple







GLAUCUS; OR,


caves, like Hindoo temples, upborne on pillars
banded with yellow and white and red, a week's
study, in form and colour and chiaro-oscuro, for
any artist; and a mile or so further along a
pleasant road, with land-locked glimpses of the
bay, to the broad sheet of sand which lies between
the village of Paignton and the sea-sands trodden
a hundred times by Montagu and Turton, perhaps,
by Dillwyn and Gaertner, and many another pioneer
of science. And once there, before we look at
anything else, come down straight to the sea marge;
for yonder lies, just left by the retiring tide, a
mass of life such as you will seldom see again.
It is somewhat ugly, perhaps, at first sight; for
ankle-deep are spread, for some ten yards long by
five broad, huge dirty bivalve shells, as large as
the hand, each with its loathly grey and black
siphons hanging out, a confused mass of slimy
death. Let us walk on to some cleaner heap, and
leave these, the great Lutraria Elliptica, which
have been lying buried by thousands in the sandy
mud, each with the point of its long siphon above







THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


the surface, sucking in and driving out again the
salt water on which it feeds, till last night's ground-
swell shifted the sea-bottom, and drove them up
hither to perish helpless, but not useless, on the
beach.
See, close by is another shell bed, quite as large,
but comely enough to please any eye. What a
variety of forms and colours are there, amid the
purple and olive wreaths of wrack, and bladder-
weed, and tangle (ore-weed, as they call it in the
south), and the delicate green ribbons of the Zpstera
(the only English flowering plant which grows
beneath the sea). What are they all ? What are
the long white razors ? What are the delicate green-
grey scimitars? What are the tapering brown
spires ? What the tufts of delicate yellow plants
like squirrels' tails, and lobsters' horns, and tama-
risks, and fir-trees, and all other finely cut animal
and vegetable forms ? What are the groups of grey
bladders, with something like a little bud at the
tip ? What are the hundreds of little pink-striped
pears ? What those tiny babies' heads, covered with







GLAUCUS: OR.


grey prickles instead of hair? The great red star-
fish, which Ulster children call "the bad man's
hands;" and the great whelks, which the youth
of Musselburgh know as roaring buckies, these we
have seen before; but what, oh what, are the red
capsicums ?-
Yes, what are the red capsicums ? and why are
they poking, snapping, starting, crawling, tumbling
wildly over each other, rattling about the huge
mahogany cockles, as big as a child's two fists, out
of which they are protruded Mark them well,
for you will perhaps never see them again. They
are a Mediterranean species, or rather three species,
left behind upon these extreme south-western coasts,
probably at the vanishing of that warmer ancient
epoch, which clothed the Lizard Point with the
Cornish heath, and the Killarney mountains with
Spanish saxifrages, and other relics of a flora whose
home is now the Iberian peninsula and the sunny
cliffs of the Riviera. Rare on every other -shore,
even in the west, it abounds in Torbay at certain,
or rather uncertain, times, to so prodigious an









a..-


K;' ',,
-- '
;s.~


[2 AI'IT7R S BFrINHARII. a 'e' tki Si lI


-I .I"


~. ~ U


,-, -... -


< ( A.i.HUm RI:STI'L'3I, :T'iirKCtI]. VHJIM







Thl \ WONDE1RS OF THE SHORE.


amount, that the dredge, after five minutes' scrape,
will sometimes come up choked full of this great
cockle only. You will see hundreds of them in
every cove for miles this day; a seeming waste
of life, which would be awful in our eyes, were
not the Divine Ruler, as His custom is, making
this destruction the means of fresh creation, by
burying them in the sands, as soon as washed on
shore, to fertilize the strata of some future world.
It is but a shell-fish truly; but the great Cuvier
thought it remarkable enough to devote to its -ana-
tomy elaborate descriptions and drawings, which
have done more perhaps than any others to illus-
trate the curious economy of the whole class of
bivalve, or double-shelled, mollusca. (Plate II.
Fig. 3.)
That red capsicum is the foot of the animal
contained in the cockle-shell. By its aid it crawls,
leaps, and burrows in the sand, where it lies
drinking in the salt water through one of its
siphons, and discharging it again through the other.
Put the shell into a rock pool, or a basin of water.
F






GLAUCUS; OR,


and you will see the siphons clearly. The valves
gape apart some three-quarters of an inch. The
semi-pellucid orange mantle" fills the intermediate
space. Through that mantle, at the end from
which the foot curves, the siphons protrude; two
thick short tubes joined side by side, their lips
fringed with pearly cirri, or fringes; and very
beautiful they are. The larger is always open,
taking in the water, which is at once the animal's
food and air, and which, flowing over the delicate
inner surface of the mantle, at once oxygenates its
blood, and fills its stomach with minute particles
of decayed organized matter. The smaller is shut.
Wait a minute, and it will open suddenly and
discharge a jet of clear water, which has been
robbed, I suppose, of its oxygen and its organic
matter. But, I suppose, your eyes will be rather
attracted by that same scarlet and orange foot,
which is being drawn in and thrust out to a length
of nearly four inches, striking with its point against
any opposing object, and sending the whole shell
backwards with a jerk. The point, you see, is






THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE,


sharp and tongue-like; only flattened, not hori-
zontally, like a tongue, but perpendicularly, so as.
to form, as it was intended, a perfect sand-plough,
by which the animal can move at will, either above
or below the surface of the sand.'
But for colour and shape, to what shall we
compare it ? To polished cornelian, says Mr. Gosse.
I say, to one of the great red capsicums which
hang drying in every Covent-garden seedsman's
window. Yet is either simile better than the guess
of a certain lady, who, entering a room wherein
a couple of Cardium tuberculatum were waltzing
about a plate, exclaimed, Oh dear! I always
heard that my pretty red coral came out of a fish,
and here it is all alive "
"C. tuberculatum," says Mr. Gosse (who described
it from specimens which I sent him in 1854), "is
far the finest species. The valves are more globose
1 If any inland reader wishes to see the action of this foot, in
the bivalve Molluscs, let him look at the Common Pond-Mussel
(Anodon Cygneus), which he will find in most stagnant waters, and
see how he burrows with it in the mud, and how, when the water
is drawn off, he walks solemnly into deeper water, leaving a furrow
behind him.






GLAUCUS; OR,


and of a warmer colour; those that I have seen are
even more spinous." Such may have been the case
in those I sent: but it has occurred to me now
and then to dredge specimens of C. aculeatum,
which had escaped that rolling on the sand fatal
in old age to its delicate spines, and which equalled
in colour, size, and perfectness the noble one figured
in poor dear old Dr. Turton's "British Bivalves."
Besides, aculeatum is a far thinner and more
delicate shell. And a third species, C. echinatum,
with curves more graceful and continuous, is to be
found now and then with the two former. In it,
each point, instead of degenerating into a knot, as
in tuberculatum, or developing from delicate flat
briar-prickles into long straight thorns, as in acu-
leatum, is close-set to its fellow, and curved at the
point transversely to the shell, the whole being thus
horrid with hundreds of strong tenterhooks, making
his castle impregnable to the raveners of the deep.
For we can hardly doubt that these prickles are
meant as weapons of defence, without which so
savoury a morsel as the mollusc within (cooked and






THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


eaten largely on some parts of our south coast)
would be a staple article of food for sea-beasts of
prey. And it is noteworthy, first, that the defensive
thorns which are permanent on the two thinner
species, aculeatum and echinatum, disappear alto-
gether on the thicker one, tuberculatum, as old age
gives him a solid and heavy globose shell; and
next, that he too, while young and tender, and liable
therefore to be bored through by whelks and such
murderous univalves, does actually possess the same
briar-prickles, which his thinner cousins keep
throughout life. Nevertheless, prickles, in all three
species, are, as far as we can see, useless in Torbay,
where no wolf-fish (Anarrhichas lupus) or other
owner of shell-crushing jaws wanders, terrible to
lobster and to cockle. Originally intended, as we
suppose, to face the strong-toothed monsters of
the Mediterranean, these foreigners have wandered
northward to shores where their armour is not now
needed; and yet centuries of idleness and security
have not been able to persuade them to lay it
by. This-if my explanation is the right one-is







GLAUCUS; OR,


but one more case among hundreds in which pecu-
liarities, useful doubtless to their original possessors,
remain, though now useless, in their descendants.
Just so does the tame ram inherit the now super-
fluous horns of his primeval wild ancestors, though
he fights now-if he fights at all-not with his
horns, but with his forehead.
Enough of Cardium tuberculatum. Now for
the other animals of the heap ; and first, for those
long white razors. They, as well as the grey
scimitars, are Solens, Razor-fish (Solen siliqua and
S. ensis), burrowers in the sand by that foot
which protrudes from one end, nimble in escaping
from the Torquay boys, whom you will see boring
for them with a long iron screw, on the sands at
low tide. They are very good to eat, these razor-
fish; at least, for those who so think them; and
abound in millions upon all our sandy shores.1
Now for the tapering brown spires. They are
Turritelle, snail-like animals (though the form of

1 These shells are so common that I have not cared to figure
them.






THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


the shell is different), who crawl and browse by
thousands on the beds of Zostera, or grass wrack,
which you see thrown about on the beach, and
which grows naturally in two or three fathoms water.
Stay: here is one which is more than itself." On
its back is mounted a cluster of barnacles (Balanus
Porcatus), of the same family as those which stud
the tide-rocks in millions, scratching the legs of
hapless bathers. Of them, I will speak presently;
for I may have a still more curious member of the
family to show you. But meanwhile, look at the
mouth of the shell; a long grey worm protrudes
from it, which is not the rightful inhabitant. He
is dead long since, and his place has been occu-
pied by one Sipunculus Bernhardi; a wight of low
degree, who connects "radiate" with annulate forms
-in plain English, sea-cucumbers (of which we
shall see some soon) with sea-worms. But how-
ever low in the scale of comparative anatomy,
he has wit enough to take care of !Ii:. 1t'; mean
ugly little worm as he seems. For finding the
mouth of the Turritella too big for him, he has







GLAUCUS; OR,


plastered it up with sand and mud (Heaven alone
knows how), just as a wry-neck plasters up a hole
in an apple-tree when she intends to build therein,
and has left only a round hole, out of which he
can poke his proboscis. A curious thing is this
proboscis, when seen through the magnifier. You
perceive a ring of tentacles round the mouth, for
picking up I know not what; and you will perceive,
too, if you watch it, that when he draws it in, he
turns mouth, tentacles and all, inwards, and so
down into his stomach, just as if you were to turn
the finger of a glove inward from the tip till it
passed into the hand; and so performs, every time
he eats, the clown's as yet ideal feat, of .iini].-I
down his own throat.1
So much have we seen on one little shell. But
there is more to see close to it. Those yellow
plants which I likened to squirrels' tails and lob-
sters' horns, and what not, are zoophytes of different
kinds. Here is Sertularia argentea (true squirrel's

1 Plate II. Fig. 1, represents both I.1' it.. on the dead
Turritella.







THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


tail) ; here, S. filicula, as delicate as tangled threads
of glass; here, abietina; here, rosacea. The lob-
sters' horns are Antennaria antennina; and mingled
with them are Plumulariae, always to be distin-
guished from Sertularie by polypes growing on
one side of the branch, and not on both. Here is
falcata, with its roots twisted round a sea-weed.
Here is cristata, on the same weed; and here is
a piece of the beautiful myriophyllum, which has
been battered in its long journey out of the deep
water about the ore rock. For all these you must
consult Johnson's "Zoophytes," and for a dozen
smaller species, which you would probably find
tangled among them, or parasitic on the sea-weed.
Here are Flustroe, or sea-mats. This, which smells
very like Verbena, is Flustra coriacea (Pl. I. Fig. 2).
That scurf on the frond of ore-weed is F. lineata
(Pl. I. Fig. 1). The glass bells twined about this
Sertularia are Campanularia syringa (Pl. I. Fig. 9);
and here is a tiny plant of Cellularia ciliata (PI. I.
Fig. 8). Look at it through the field-glass; for it
is truly wonderful. Each polype cell is edged with







GLAUCUS; OR,


whip-like spines, and on the back of some of them
is-what is it, but a live vulture's head, snapping
and snapping-what for ?
Nay, reader, I am here to show you what can
be seen: but as for telling you what can be known,
much more what cannot, I decline; and refer you
to Johnson's Zoophytes," wherein you will find
that several species of polypes carry these same
birds' heads : but whether they be parts of the
polype, and of what use they are, no man living
knoweth.
Next, what are the striped pears? They are
sea-anemones, and of a species only lately well
known, Sagartia viduata, the snake-locked ane-
mone (P1. V. Fig. 31). They have been washed off
the loose stones to which they usually adhere by
the pitiless roll of the ground-swell; however, they
are not so far gone, but that if you take one of
them home, and put it in a jar of water, it will

1 A few words on him, and on sea-anemones in general, may be
found in Appendix II. But full details, accompanied with beautiful
plates, may be found in Mr. Gosse's work on British sea-anemones
and madrepores, which ought to be in every seaside library.







THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


expand into a delicate compound flower, which can
neither be described nor painted, of long pellucid
tentacles, hanging like a thin bluish cloud over a
disk of mottled brown and grey.
Here, adhering to this large whelk, is another,
but far larger and coarser. It is Sagartia parasitica,
one of our largest British species; and most sin-
gular in this, that it is almost always (in Torbay,
at least,) found adhering to a whelk: but never to
a live one; and for this reason. 1 1.. live whelk
(as you may see for yourself when the tide is out)
burrows in the sand in chase of hapless bivalve
shells, whom he bores through with his sharp
tongue (always, cunning fellow, close to the hinge,
where the fish is), and then sucks out their life.
Now, if the anemone stuck to him, it would be
carried under the sand daily, to its own disgust.
It prefers, therefore, the dead whelk, inhabited by
a soldier crab, Pagurus Bernhardi (P1. XI. Fig. 2),
of which you may find a dozen anywhere as the
tide goes out; and travels about at the crab's
expense, sharing with him the offal which is his






GLAUCUS; OR,


food. Note, moreover, that the soldier crab is the
most hasty and blundering of marine animals, as
active as a monkey, and as subject to panics as
a horse; wherefore the poor anemone on his back
must have a hard life of it; being knocked about
against rocks and shells, without warning, from
morn to night and night to morn. Against which
danger, kind Nature, ever maxima in minimis, has
provided by fitting him with a stout leather coat,
which she has given, I believe, to no other of his
family.
Next, for the babies' heads, covered with prickles,
instead of hair. They are sea-urchins, Amphidotus
cordatus, which burrow by thousands in the sand.
These are of that Spatangoid form, which you will
often find fossil in the chalk, and which shepherd
boys call snakes' heads. We shall soon find another
sort, an Echinus, and have time to talk over these
most strange (in my eyes) of all living animals.
There are a hundred more things to be talked of
here: but we must defer the examination of them
till our return; for it wants an hour yet of the






THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


dead low spring-tide ; and ere we go home, we will
spend a few minutes at least on the rocks at Liver-
mead, where awaits us a strong-backed quarryman,
with a strong-backed crowbar, as is to be hoped
(for he snapped one right across there yesterday,
falling miserably on his back into a pool thereby),
and we will verify Mr. Gosse's observation, that-
"When once we have begun to look with curi-
osity on the strange things that ordinary people
pass over without notice, our wonder is continually
excited by the variety of phase, and often by the
uncouthness of form, under which some of the
meaner creatures are presented to us. And this
is very specially the case with the inhabitants of
the sea. We can scarcely poke or pry for an hour
among the rocks, at low-water mark, or walk, with
an observant downcast eye, along the beach after a
gale, without finding some oddly-fashioned, suspi-
cious-looking being, unlike any form of life that
we have seen before. The dark concealed interior
of the sea becomes thus invested with a fresh mys-
tery; its vast recesses appear to be stored with all







GLAUCUS; OR,


imaginable forms; and we are tempted to think
there must be multitudes of living creatures whose
very figure and structure have never yet been sus-
pected.
'0 sea old sea who yet knows half
Of thy wonders or thy pride !' "
GossE's Aquarium, pp. 226, 227.

These words have more than fulfilled themselves
since they were written. Those Deep-Sea dredgings,
of which a detailed account will be found in Dr.
Wyville Thomson's new and most beautiful book,
"The Depths of the Sea," have disclosed, of late
years, wonders of the deep even more strange and
more multitudinous than the wonders of the shore.
The time is past when we thought ourselves bound
to believe, with Professor Edward Forbes, that only
some hundred fathoms down, the inhabitants of the
sea-bottom "become more and more modified, and
fewer and fewer, indicating our approach towards an
abyss where life is either extinguished, or exhibits
but a few sparks to mark its lingering presence."
Neither now need we indulge in another theory
which had a certain grandeur in it, and was not







THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


so absurd as it looks at first sight,-namely, that,
as Dr. Wyville Thomson puts it, picturesquely
enough, "in going down the sea water became,
under the pressure, gradually heavier and heavier,
and that all the loose things floated at different
levels, according to their specific weight,-skele-
tons of men, anchors and shot and cannon, and
last of all the broad gold pieces lost in the wreck
of many a galleon off the Spanish Main; the whole
forming a kind of 'false bottom' to the ocean, be-
neath which there lay all the depth of clear still
water, which was heavier than molten gold."
The facts are; first that water, being all but in-
compressible, is hardly any heavier, and just as
liquid, at the greatest depth, than at the surface;
and that therefore animals can move as freely in it
in deep as in shallow water; and next, that as the
fluids inside the body of a sea animal must be at
the same pressure as that of the water outside it,
the two pressures must balance each other; and the
body, instead of being crushed in, may be uncon-
scious that it is living under a weight of two or







GLAUCUS; OR,


three miles of water. But so it is; as we gather
our curiosities at low-tide mark, or haul the dredge
a mile or two out at sea, we may allow our fancy
to range freely out to the westward, and down over
the subaqueous cliffs of the hundred-fathom line,
which mark the old shore of the British Isles, or
rather of a time when Britain and Ireland were
part of the continent, through water a mile, and
two, and three miles deep, into total darkness, and
icy cold, and a pressure which, in the open air,
would crush any known living creature to a jelly;
and be certain that we shall find the ocean-floor
teeming everywhere with multitudinous life, some
of it strangely like, some strangely unlike, the crea-
tures which we see along the shore.
Some strangely like. You may find, for instance,
among the sea-weed, here and there, a little black
sea-spider, a Nymphon, who has this peculiarity, that
possessing no body at all to speak of, he carries
his needful stomach in long branches, packed inside
his legs. The specimens which you will find will
probably be half an inch across the legs. An








THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.


almost exactly similar Nymphon has been dredged
from the depths of the Arctic and Antarctic oceans,
nearly two feet across.


FIr. 1.-NXymhon abyssorurn, NORIMAN. Slightly enlarged.


You may find also a quaint little shrimp, Caprclla,
clinging by its hind claws to sea-weed, and waving






GLAUCUS; OR,


its gaunt grotesque body to and fro, while it makes
mesmeric passes with its large fore claws,-one of
the most ridiculous of Nature's many ridiculous forms.
Those which you will find will be some quarter of
an inch in length; but in the cold area of the North
Atlantic, their cousins, it is now found, are nearly
three inches long, and perch in like manner, not on
sea-weeds, for there are none so deep, but on branch-
ing sponges.
These are but two instances out of many of
forms which were supposed to be peculiar to
shallow shores repeating themselves at vast depths:
thus forcing on us strange questions about changes
in the distribution and depth of the ancient seas;
and forcing us, also, to reconsider the old rules by
which rocks were distinguished as deep-sea or
shallow-sea deposits according to the fossils found
in them.
As for the new forms, and even more important
than them, the ancient forms, supposed to have
been long extinct, and only known as fossils, till
they were lately rediscovered alive in the nether






THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 83











V/


s I '













FIG. 2.-Caprella splosissima, NORMAN. Twice the natural size.






GLAUCUS.


darkness,-for them you must consult Dr. Wyville
Thomson's book, and the notices of the "Chal-
lenger's" dredgings which appear from time to time
in the columns of Nature;" for want of space
forbids my speaking of them here.
But if you have no time to read "The Depths of
the Sea," go at least to the British Museum, or if
you be a northern man, to the admirable public
museum at Liverpool; ask to be shown the deep-
sea forms; and there feast your curiosity and
your sense of beauty for an hour. Look at the
Crinoids, or stalked star-fishes, the "Lilies of living
stone," which swarmed in the ancient seas, in vast
variety, and in such numbers that whole beds of
limestone are composed of their disjointed frag-
ments; but which have vanished out of our modern
seas, we know not why, till, a few years since, almost
the only known living species was the exquisite
and rare Pentacrinus asteria, from deep water off
the Windward Isles of the West Indies.
Of this you will see a specimen or two both
at Liverpool and in the British Museum; and near







































































Fi;. :'.-Pentacrinus asteria,'lNluEuus. One-fourth the natural a'







GLAUCUS; OR,


them, probably, specimens of the new-old Crinoids,
discovered of late years by Professor Sars, Mr. Gwyn
.. m,. Dr. Carpenter, Dr. Wyville Thomson, and
the other deep-sea disciples of the mythic Glaucus,
the fisherman, who, enamoured of the wonders of
the sea, plunged into the blue abyss once and for
all, and became himself "the blue old man of
the sea."
Next look at the corals, and Gorgonias, and all
the sea-fern tribe of branching polypidoms, and
last, but not least, at the glass sponges; first at the
Euplectella, or Venus's flower-basket, which lives
embedded in the mud of the seas of the Philippines,
supported by a glass frill standing up round it
like an Elizabethan ruff." Twenty years ago there
was but one specimen in Europe: now you may buy
one for a pound in any curiosity shop. I advise you
to do so, and to keep--as I have seen done--under
a glass case, as a delight to your eyes, one of
the most exquisite, both for form and texture, of
natural l li '.t-.
Then look at the Hyalonemas, or glass-rope




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