Citation
Glaucus, or, The wonders of the shore

Material Information

Title:
Glaucus, or, The wonders of the shore
Portion of title:
Wonders of the shore
Creator:
Kingsley, Charles, 1819-1875
Dickes, William, 1815-1892 ( Illustrator )
Macmillan & Co ( Publisher )
R. Clay, Sons, and Taylor ( Printer )
Place of Publication:
London
Publisher:
Macmillan and Co.
Manufacturer:
R. Clay, Sons, and Taylor
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Edition:
5th ed. corr. and enl. with coloured illustrations.
Physical Description:
xi, 245 p., 12 leaves of plates : col. ill. ; 19 cm.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
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
Target Audience:
juvenile ( marctarget )

Notes

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).
Statement of Responsibility:
by Charles Kingsley.

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Holding Location:
Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in Special Collections, George A. Smathers Libraries
Rights Management:
This item is presumed to be in the public domain. The University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries respect the intellectual property rights of others and do not claim any copyright interest in this item. Users of this work have responsibility for determining copyright status prior to reusing, publishing or reproducing this item for purposes other than what is allowed by fair use or other copyright exemptions. Any reuse of this item in excess of fair use or other copyright exemptions may require permission of the copyright holder. The Smathers Libraries would like to learn more about this item and invite individuals or organizations to contact The Department of Special and Area Studies Collections (special@uflib.ufl.edu) with any additional information they can provide.
Resource Identifier:
026833512 ( ALEPH )
ALH2881 ( NOTIS )
59820775 ( OCLC )

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GLAUCUS;

oR,

THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.







Plate 6.

f a





GLAUGUS;

on.

THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.

BY

CHARLES KINGSLEY, FSA, F.LS., etc,

AUTHOR OF “‘WESTWARD HO!” “HYPATIA,” ETC

FIFTH EDITION, CORRECTED AND ENLARGED;
WITH COLOURED ILLUSTRATIONS.

London :
MACMILLAN AND CO.
~ 1873.

| The Right of Translation and Reproduction 7s reserved. |



LONDON:
R. CLAY, SONS, AND TAYLOR, PRINTERS,
BREAD STREET HILL.



Dedication.

My pear 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,



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



Bryonp 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.

Coteripcr’s Ancient Mariner.



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

WOOD ENGRAVINGS.
FIG.
1. Nymphon Abyssorum, Norman
2. Caprella spinosissima, Norman

2

3. Pentacrinus asteria, LInNmus . . . .

COLOURED PLATES,

PLATE

1. 1. Fuusrra Lrneara; (a) enlarged with polypes pro-
truding. 2. Fuusrra Foriacea. 8. VALKMRIA
Cuscura ; (a) natural size ; (b) two tentacles ; (e)
tentacles bent inwards ; (d) enlarged, showing the
gradual eversion of the animal. 4. Crista Dmn-
TICULATA ; (a) natural size. 5. GEMELLARIA Loni-
CATA; (a) natural size. 6. SERTULARIA RosEA;
(a) natural size. 7. CELLULARIA CILIATA; (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. SmRrALARIA
Lenvicera. 11. Norama Bursaria; (a) natural
size ; (b) two pairs of polype cells with the tobacco

pipe appendages

2. 1. Carpium Rusticum, (TUBERCULATUM). 2. Pacu-

RUS BERNHARDI, in a Periwinkle Shell .

oe

U

PAGE

81
83
85

73

65



x LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PLATE PAGE
3. 1. Nemurtizs Bortasir. 2. SaBeLtaA? 8, Sand-tube

of TEREBELLA CONCHILEGA (See Plate 8) . . . 186

4. 1. Synapra Dierrara; (a) Ditto separating and
throwing out capsuliferous threads. 2. THALAS-
STEMPAWIS NPSL CAIAUING Lr ateicen thay (rat ey at easel at vai gt ve) LOO

5. 1. BALANopHyLLEA Recta, expanded ; (a) Ditto, con-

tracted ; (2) Ditto coral; (c) Ditto, tentacle en-
larged ; 2. CARYOPHYLLEA Smiruit partly ex-
panded ; (a) Ditto, section of bony plates ; (b) Ditto,
tentacle. 3. SAGARTIA ANGUICOMA closed; (a)
Ditto, basal disc showing radiating septa. 4.
Synapra Dicirata (See Plate 4); (a, 6) Ditto,
fingered tentacles enlarged; (c) Ditto, Spicule ;
(d) Ditto, anchor lying on its transparent anchor-
plate. 5. 8S. Virrara? perforated anchor-plate ;
(OESpICUIAM Nett rca su AMAL eer oy aval ic nasal) 4

6. 1. AcTINIA MESEMBRYANTHEMUM, partially expanded ;
(a) Ditto, closed. 2 Bunoprs CRASSICORNIS.
8. CARYOPHYLLEA SMITHIT. . . . . Front. 185

7, 1. Ecurnus Mirzaris, creeping over Modiola barbata.
2. Ditto, creeping up the glass. 3. Hiding under
SUOMES sail ba voy Oetytele eb ey Yell! as ol Niet, ea el ehh 23), LOO

8. 1. Lrrrorina LrrrorEa (See Plate 9); (a) operculum ;
(0) pallet ; (c) part of pallet, magnified. 2. Nassa
Reriounata (See Plate 11) ; (a) egg capsules; (8, c)
fry ; (d) shell of fry; (¢) pallet, magnified. 3,
PATELLA VULGARIS; (a) palate, natural size ;
(6, c) Ditto, enlarged. 4. Ecurnus Miiaris (See
Plate 7); (a) teeth and digesting mill ; (0) suckers,
enlarged; (c) spine and socket; (d) shell denuded ;
(e) Pedicellaria. 5. Nemmrres Boruastit (See Plate
8); (a) head, enlarged; () head expanded swallow-
in Ra MbOTO Mell AL ry Hohe ely ike NS ys a May fl ae gy en) em OD



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. xi

PLATE
9. 1. CucumariA HynpMANNI. 2. Lirronina Lirrorea.
3. StenuncuLus Bernuarous in shell of Turrt-
TELLA, with living BALANI.. « . . . + e+ 2

PAGE

10. 1. Sereuta ConrorrupLicata. 2. Hrxnires Pusio.
3. Doris Repanpa. 4. Eoris Peniucipa. 5.
PHOLADIDBA PapyRAcna. 6, PHotas Parva.
7. FIssuRELLA GRM&CA . (oir LOG

11. 1. SynenwatHus LUMBRICIFORMISs. 2. SAXICAVA
Rucosa; (a) Shell of Saxicava Rucosa. 3.
Nassa Rericunara See le a uP a Ue Gl (6) 3)

12, 1. PeacntaA Hastara. 2. UrAsrer RuBEeNsS . . . 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
B



2 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 réchauffé 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. 3

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
B2



4. 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’g:.
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
eannot 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. 5

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



6 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, 7

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



8 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, shrugved
their shoulders mysteriously, and said, “Poor fel-

low!” till they opened the book itself, and dis-



THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 9

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 Yesprit humain.” 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



10 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,
Linné, 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. 11

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 plastriz 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.



12 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

ord

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. 13

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, Delabéche 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;



14 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. 15

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 clubmogs 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 sons 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
“oemsen-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 teils him that strange



16 GLAUCUS ; OR,

story? Yon 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. lons and «ons 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, 17

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



18 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,
Todes-stille fiirchterlich ; ”



THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 19

as Gothe 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

c 2



20 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. 21

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 cut, as you know,
there is not ten feet water; and then a steep bank,
the edge whereof we and the big trout know weil,
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



22 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 erack, 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. 23

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 eld 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: bub somebody er something must have carried
them; fer stones do not fly, nor swim either.

Shot out of a veleanc? As you seem deter-
mined te have a prodigy, it may as well be a suffi-
ciently huge ene.

Well—these stones lie altogether; and a voleano
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 tep of that cliff... So,
“Plainshe and pogshe, and ancther Llyn.” Very
good. Now, does it not strike you that this whole
cliff has a remarkably 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?



24 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, 25

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 nevé, 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 nevé, 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 Trélaporte, 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



26 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 nevé
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. 27

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 lefi
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 of
time, labour, and study; and the dilettante (and

it is for dilettanti, like myself, that I principally



28 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. 29

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



30 GLAUCUS; OR,

flashed biood-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. 31

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-



32 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. 33

scientia scientiarum, the priceless art of learning ;
no branch of science has more utterly confounded
the wisdem 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



34 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 réswmé 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-headed men like Pallas and Linné, 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. 35

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 sca-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



36 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, 37

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 Sertularie, compared with Cristie and Cellularie, are very
good examples. For a fuller description of these, see Appendix
explaining Plate I.



38 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 numberiless their nation.”

But these few examples 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. 39

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 Jand and sea, as well as from saints and
martyrs and the heavenly host, “O 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



40 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, 41

in measuring pens with Linnd, 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



42 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, 43

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 samme 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 be strong in body; able to
haul a dredge, climb a rock, turn a boulder, walk
all day, uncertam 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, saila boat, and ride the first horse
which comes to hand; and, finally, he should be

a thoroughly good shot, and a skilful fisherman ;



44 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, 45

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



46 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. 47

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



48 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.

IT 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 fatu-
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 now 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. 49

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



50 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. 51

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 seientific 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
EB 2



52 GLAUCUS ; OR,

mind; and with the vast majority there will be no
mens sana unless there be a corpus sanwm 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. 53

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



54 JLAUCUS; 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. 55

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 neighbouring 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
een wasted at the theatre. I have seen the young

London beauty, amid all the excitement and temp-



56 GLAUCUS ; OR,

tation 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. Jt 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, 57

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



58 GLAUCUS ; 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. 59

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



60 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. 61

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



62 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



a)

THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE, 6

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 Zostera
(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



64 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







THE WONDERS OF THE SHORES. 65

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



66 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, 67

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 Tf 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.

F 2



68 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 molluse within (cooked and



THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 69

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



70 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
acoound in millions upon all our sandy shores.

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. 71.

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, seratching the lees of
hapless bathers. Of them, I will speak presently ,
for I may have a still more curlous 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 gscon) with sea-worms. But how-
ever low in the scale of comparative anatomy,
he has wit enough to take care of himself; mean
ugly little worm as he seems. For finding the

mouth of the Turritella too big for him, he has



72 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 jumping
down his own throat.’

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 parasites on the dead
Turritella.



THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 73

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 Plumularie, always to be distin-
guished from Sertularize 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 Flustra, 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 (PI. 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



74 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, 1 am here to show you what can
be seen: but as for telling you what can be known,
much more what cannot, [ 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 (Pl V. Fig. 34. 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. 75

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. The 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 (Pl. 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



76 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. 77

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



78 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.

**¢0O sea! old sea! who yet knows half
Of thy wonders or thy pride !’”
Gossn’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. 79

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



80 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. 81

almost exactly similar Nymphon has been dredged
from the depths of the Arctic and Antarctic oceans,

nearly two feet across.



Fre. 1.—Nymphon abyssorum, Norman. Slightly enlarged.

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



82 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 lke 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.



Fic, 2.—Caprella spinosissima, NoRMAN.

Twice the natural size.

G2

83



84 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





Lic, 3.—Pentacrinus asterias Linnaus. One-fourth the natural size.



86 GLAUCUS; OR,

'

them, probably, specimens of the new-old Crinoids,
discovered of late years by Professor Sars, Mr. Gwyn
Jeffreys, 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 ease, as a delight to your eyes, one of
the most exquisite, both for form and texture, of
natural objects.

Then look at the Hyalonemas, or glass-rope



Full Text


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:



GLAUCUS;

oR,

THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.

Plate 6.

f a


GLAUGUS;

on.

THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE.

BY

CHARLES KINGSLEY, FSA, F.LS., etc,

AUTHOR OF “‘WESTWARD HO!” “HYPATIA,” ETC

FIFTH EDITION, CORRECTED AND ENLARGED;
WITH COLOURED ILLUSTRATIONS.

London :
MACMILLAN AND CO.
~ 1873.

| The Right of Translation and Reproduction 7s reserved. |
LONDON:
R. CLAY, SONS, AND TAYLOR, PRINTERS,
BREAD STREET HILL.
Dedication.

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

Coteripcr’s Ancient Mariner.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

WOOD ENGRAVINGS.
FIG.
1. Nymphon Abyssorum, Norman
2. Caprella spinosissima, Norman

2

3. Pentacrinus asteria, LInNmus . . . .

COLOURED PLATES,

PLATE

1. 1. Fuusrra Lrneara; (a) enlarged with polypes pro-
truding. 2. Fuusrra Foriacea. 8. VALKMRIA
Cuscura ; (a) natural size ; (b) two tentacles ; (e)
tentacles bent inwards ; (d) enlarged, showing the
gradual eversion of the animal. 4. Crista Dmn-
TICULATA ; (a) natural size. 5. GEMELLARIA Loni-
CATA; (a) natural size. 6. SERTULARIA RosEA;
(a) natural size. 7. CELLULARIA CILIATA; (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. SmRrALARIA
Lenvicera. 11. Norama Bursaria; (a) natural
size ; (b) two pairs of polype cells with the tobacco

pipe appendages

2. 1. Carpium Rusticum, (TUBERCULATUM). 2. Pacu-

RUS BERNHARDI, in a Periwinkle Shell .

oe

U

PAGE

81
83
85

73

65
x LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PLATE PAGE
3. 1. Nemurtizs Bortasir. 2. SaBeLtaA? 8, Sand-tube

of TEREBELLA CONCHILEGA (See Plate 8) . . . 186

4. 1. Synapra Dierrara; (a) Ditto separating and
throwing out capsuliferous threads. 2. THALAS-
STEMPAWIS NPSL CAIAUING Lr ateicen thay (rat ey at easel at vai gt ve) LOO

5. 1. BALANopHyLLEA Recta, expanded ; (a) Ditto, con-

tracted ; (2) Ditto coral; (c) Ditto, tentacle en-
larged ; 2. CARYOPHYLLEA Smiruit partly ex-
panded ; (a) Ditto, section of bony plates ; (b) Ditto,
tentacle. 3. SAGARTIA ANGUICOMA closed; (a)
Ditto, basal disc showing radiating septa. 4.
Synapra Dicirata (See Plate 4); (a, 6) Ditto,
fingered tentacles enlarged; (c) Ditto, Spicule ;
(d) Ditto, anchor lying on its transparent anchor-
plate. 5. 8S. Virrara? perforated anchor-plate ;
(OESpICUIAM Nett rca su AMAL eer oy aval ic nasal) 4

6. 1. AcTINIA MESEMBRYANTHEMUM, partially expanded ;
(a) Ditto, closed. 2 Bunoprs CRASSICORNIS.
8. CARYOPHYLLEA SMITHIT. . . . . Front. 185

7, 1. Ecurnus Mirzaris, creeping over Modiola barbata.
2. Ditto, creeping up the glass. 3. Hiding under
SUOMES sail ba voy Oetytele eb ey Yell! as ol Niet, ea el ehh 23), LOO

8. 1. Lrrrorina LrrrorEa (See Plate 9); (a) operculum ;
(0) pallet ; (c) part of pallet, magnified. 2. Nassa
Reriounata (See Plate 11) ; (a) egg capsules; (8, c)
fry ; (d) shell of fry; (¢) pallet, magnified. 3,
PATELLA VULGARIS; (a) palate, natural size ;
(6, c) Ditto, enlarged. 4. Ecurnus Miiaris (See
Plate 7); (a) teeth and digesting mill ; (0) suckers,
enlarged; (c) spine and socket; (d) shell denuded ;
(e) Pedicellaria. 5. Nemmrres Boruastit (See Plate
8); (a) head, enlarged; () head expanded swallow-
in Ra MbOTO Mell AL ry Hohe ely ike NS ys a May fl ae gy en) em OD
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. xi

PLATE
9. 1. CucumariA HynpMANNI. 2. Lirronina Lirrorea.
3. StenuncuLus Bernuarous in shell of Turrt-
TELLA, with living BALANI.. « . . . + e+ 2

PAGE

10. 1. Sereuta ConrorrupLicata. 2. Hrxnires Pusio.
3. Doris Repanpa. 4. Eoris Peniucipa. 5.
PHOLADIDBA PapyRAcna. 6, PHotas Parva.
7. FIssuRELLA GRM&CA . (oir LOG

11. 1. SynenwatHus LUMBRICIFORMISs. 2. SAXICAVA
Rucosa; (a) Shell of Saxicava Rucosa. 3.
Nassa Rericunara See le a uP a Ue Gl (6) 3)

12, 1. PeacntaA Hastara. 2. UrAsrer RuBEeNsS . . . 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
B
2 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 réchauffé 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. 3

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
B2
4. 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’g:.
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
eannot 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. 5

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
6 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, 7

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
8 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, shrugved
their shoulders mysteriously, and said, “Poor fel-

low!” till they opened the book itself, and dis-
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 9

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 Yesprit humain.” 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
10 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,
Linné, 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. 11

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 plastriz 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.
12 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

ord

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. 13

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, Delabéche 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;
14 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. 15

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 clubmogs 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 sons 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
“oemsen-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 teils him that strange
16 GLAUCUS ; OR,

story? Yon 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. lons and «ons 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, 17

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
18 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,
Todes-stille fiirchterlich ; ”
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 19

as Gothe 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

c 2
20 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. 21

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 cut, as you know,
there is not ten feet water; and then a steep bank,
the edge whereof we and the big trout know weil,
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
22 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 erack, 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. 23

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 eld 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: bub somebody er something must have carried
them; fer stones do not fly, nor swim either.

Shot out of a veleanc? As you seem deter-
mined te have a prodigy, it may as well be a suffi-
ciently huge ene.

Well—these stones lie altogether; and a voleano
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 tep of that cliff... So,
“Plainshe and pogshe, and ancther Llyn.” Very
good. Now, does it not strike you that this whole
cliff has a remarkably 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?
24 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, 25

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 nevé, 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 nevé, 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 Trélaporte, 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
26 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 nevé
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. 27

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 lefi
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 of
time, labour, and study; and the dilettante (and

it is for dilettanti, like myself, that I principally
28 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. 29

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
30 GLAUCUS; OR,

flashed biood-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. 31

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-
32 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. 33

scientia scientiarum, the priceless art of learning ;
no branch of science has more utterly confounded
the wisdem 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
34 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 réswmé 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-headed men like Pallas and Linné, 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. 35

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 sca-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
36 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, 37

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 Sertularie, compared with Cristie and Cellularie, are very
good examples. For a fuller description of these, see Appendix
explaining Plate I.
38 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 numberiless their nation.”

But these few examples 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. 39

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 Jand and sea, as well as from saints and
martyrs and the heavenly host, “O 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
40 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, 41

in measuring pens with Linnd, 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
42 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, 43

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 samme 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 be strong in body; able to
haul a dredge, climb a rock, turn a boulder, walk
all day, uncertam 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, saila boat, and ride the first horse
which comes to hand; and, finally, he should be

a thoroughly good shot, and a skilful fisherman ;
44 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, 45

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
46 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. 47

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
48 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.

IT 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 fatu-
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 now 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. 49

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
50 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. 51

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 seientific 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
EB 2
52 GLAUCUS ; OR,

mind; and with the vast majority there will be no
mens sana unless there be a corpus sanwm 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. 53

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
54 JLAUCUS; 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. 55

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 neighbouring 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
een wasted at the theatre. I have seen the young

London beauty, amid all the excitement and temp-
56 GLAUCUS ; OR,

tation 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. Jt 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, 57

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
58 GLAUCUS ; 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. 59

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
60 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. 61

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
62 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
a)

THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE, 6

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 Zostera
(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
64 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

THE WONDERS OF THE SHORES. 65

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
66 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, 67

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 Tf 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.

F 2
68 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 molluse within (cooked and
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 69

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
70 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
acoound in millions upon all our sandy shores.

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. 71.

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, seratching the lees of
hapless bathers. Of them, I will speak presently ,
for I may have a still more curlous 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 gscon) with sea-worms. But how-
ever low in the scale of comparative anatomy,
he has wit enough to take care of himself; mean
ugly little worm as he seems. For finding the

mouth of the Turritella too big for him, he has
72 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 jumping
down his own throat.’

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 parasites on the dead
Turritella.
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 73

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 Plumularie, always to be distin-
guished from Sertularize 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 Flustra, 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 (PI. 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
74 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, 1 am here to show you what can
be seen: but as for telling you what can be known,
much more what cannot, [ 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 (Pl V. Fig. 34. 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. 75

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. The 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 (Pl. 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
76 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. 77

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
78 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.

**¢0O sea! old sea! who yet knows half
Of thy wonders or thy pride !’”
Gossn’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. 79

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
80 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. 81

almost exactly similar Nymphon has been dredged
from the depths of the Arctic and Antarctic oceans,

nearly two feet across.



Fre. 1.—Nymphon abyssorum, Norman. Slightly enlarged.

You may find also a quaint little shrimp, Caprella,
clinging by its hind claws to sea-weed, and waving
G
82 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 lke 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.



Fic, 2.—Caprella spinosissima, NoRMAN.

Twice the natural size.

G2

83
84 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


Lic, 3.—Pentacrinus asterias Linnaus. One-fourth the natural size.
86 GLAUCUS; OR,

'

them, probably, specimens of the new-old Crinoids,
discovered of late years by Professor Sars, Mr. Gwyn
Jeffreys, 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 ease, as a delight to your eyes, one of
the most exquisite, both for form and texture, of
natural objects.

Then look at the Hyalonemas, or glass-rope
THE WONDERS OF TITE SHORE. 87

sponges, which root themselves in the mud of the
ocean floor by a twisted wisp of strong flexible
flint needles, somewhat on the principle of a screw-
pile. So strange and complicated is their structure,
that naturalists for a long while could literally make
neither head nor tail of them, as long as they had only
Japanese specimens to study, some of which the
Japanese dealers had, of malice prepense, stuck
upside down into Pholas-borings in stones. Which
was top and which bottom; which the thing itself,
and which special parasites growing on it; whether
it was a sponge, or a zoophyte, or something else ;
at one time even whether it was natural, or artificial
and a make-up,—could not be settled, even till a
year or two since. But the discovery of the same,
or a similar, species in abundance from the Butt of
the Lews down to Setubal on the Portuguese coast,
where the deep-water shark fishers call it “sea-
whip,” has given our savants specimens enough to
make up their minds—that they really know little
or nothing about it, and probably will never know.

And do not forget, lastly, to ask, whether at
8&8 GLAUCUS ; OR,

Liverpool or at the British Museum, for the Hol-
tenias and their congeners,—hollow sponges built
up of glassy spicules, and rooted in the mud by
glass hairs, in some cases between two and three
feet long, as flexible and graceful as tresses of
snow-white silk.

Look at these, and a hundred kindred forms, and
then see how nature is not only “maxima in
minimis ’—greatest in her least, but often “ pul-
cherrima in abditis’—fairest in her most hidden
works; and how the Creative Spirit has lavished,
as it were, unspeakable artistic skill on lowly-
organized creature, never till now beheld by man,
and buried, not only in foul mud, but in their

own unsightly heap of living jelly.



But so it was from the beginning ;—and this planet
was not made for man alone. Countless ages before
we appeared on earth the depths of the old chalk-
ocean tcemed with forms as beautiful and perfect
as those, their lineal descendants, which the dredge
now brings up from the Atlantic sea-floor; and if

there were—as my reagon tells me that there must
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 89

have been—final moral causes for their exist-
ence, the only ones which we have a right to
imagine are these—that all, down to the lowest
Rhizopod, might delight themselves, however dimly,
in existing; and that the Lord might delight Him-
self in them.

Thus, much—alas ! how little—about the wonders
of the deep. We, who are no deep-sea dredgers,
must return humbly to the wonders of the shore.
And first, as after descending the gap in the sea-
wall we walk along the ribbed floor of hard yellow
sand, let me ask you to give a sharp look-out for
a round grey disc, about as big as a penny-piece,
peeping out on the surface. No; that is not it,
that little lump: open it, and you will find within
one of the common little Venus gallina. — The
closet collectors have given it some new name
now, and no thanks to them: they are always
changing the names, instead of studying the live
animals where Nature has put them, in which case
they would have no time for word-inventing. Nay,

I verily suspect that the names grow, like other
90 GLAUCUS; OR,

things; at least, they get longer and longer and
more jaw-breaking every year. The little bivalve,
however, finding itself left by the tide, has wisely
shut up its siphons, and, by means of its foot
and its edges, buried itself in a comfortable bath
of cool wet sand, till the sea shall come back,
and make it safe to crawl and lounge about
on the surface, smoking the sea-water instead of
tobacco. Neither is that depression what we seek.
Touch it, and out poke a pair of astonished and
inquiring horns: it is a long-armed crab, who
saw us coming, and wisely shovelled himself into
the sand by means of his nether-end. Corystes
Cassivelaunus is his name, which he is said to have
acquired from the marks on his back, which are
somewhat like a human face. “Those long an-
tenn,” says my friend, Mr. Lloyd+—I have not
verified the fact. but believe it, as he knows a
great deal about crabs, and I know next to no-
thing—* form a tube through which a current of

water passes into the crab’s gills, free from the

? Handbook to the Marine Aquarium of the Crystal Palace.
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 91

surrounding sand.” Moreover, it is only the male
who has those strangely long fore-arms and claws ;
the female contenting herself with limbs of a more
moderate length. Neither is that, though it might
be, the hole down which what we seek has vanished :
but that burrow contains one of the long white
razors Which you saw cast on shore at Paignton.
The boys close by are boring for them with
iron rods armed with a screw, and taking them in
to sell in Torquay market, as excellent food. But
there is one, at last—a grey disc pouting up
through the sand. Touch it, and it is gone down,
quick as light. We must dig it out, and carefully,
for it is a delicate monster. At last, after ten
minutes’ careful work, we have brought up, from
a foot depth or more—what? A thick, dirty, slimy
worm, without head or tail, form or colour. A slug
has more artistic beauty about him. Be it so. At
home in the aquarium (where, alas! he will live
but for a day or two, under the new irritation of
light) he will make a very different figure. hat

is one of the rarest of British sea-animals, Peachia
92 GLAUCUS; OR,

hastata (Pl. XIL Fig. 1), which differs from most
other British Actiniz in this, that instead of having
like them a walking disc, it has a free open lower
end, with which (I know not how) it buries
itself upright in the sand, with its mouth just
above the surface. The figure on the left of the
plate represents a curious cluster of papille which
project from one side of the mouth, and are the
opening of the oviduct. But his value consists,
not merely in his beauty (though that, really, is
not small), but in his belonging to what the long-
word-makers call an “interosculant” group,—a party
of genera and species which connect families scien-
tifically far apart, filling up a fresh link in the great
chain, or rather the great network, of zoological
classification. For here we have a simple, and, as
it were, crude form; of which, if we dared to
indulge in reveries, we might say that the Creative
Mind realized it before either Actinix or Holothu-
rians, and then went on to perfect the idea con-
tained in it in two different directions; dividing

it into two different families, and making on its


|. PEACHIA TASTATA 2. URASTER KUBE:


THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 93

model, by adding new organs, and taking away old
ones, in one direction the whole family of Actinie
(sea-anemones), and in a quite opposite one the
Holothurie, those strange sea-cucumbers, with their
mouth-fringe of feathery gills, of which you shall
see some anon. Thus there has been, in the
Creative Mind, as it gave life to new species, a
development of the idea on which older species
were created, in order—we may fancy—that every
mesh of the great net might gradually be supplied,
and there should be no gaps in the perfect variety
of Nature’s forms. This development is one which
we must believe to be at least possible, if we allow
that a Mind presides over the universe, and not
a mere brute necessity, a Law (absurd misnomer)
without a Lawgiver; and to it (strangely enough
coinciding here and there with the Platonic doctrine
of Eternal Ideas existing in the Divine Mind) all
fresh inductive discovery seems to point more and
more.

Let me speak freely a few words on this important

matter. Geology has disproved the old popular
94 GLAUCUS; OR,

belief that the universe was brought into being as
it now exists by a single fiat. We know that the

work has been gradual; that the earth

“In tracts of fluent heat began,
The seeming prey of cyclic storms,
The home of seeming random forms,
Till, at the last, arose the man.”

And we know, also, that these forms, “seeming
random ” as they are, have appeared according to a
law which, as far as we can judge, has been on the
whole one of progress,—lower animals (though we
cannot yet say, the lowest) appearing first, and man,
the highest mammal, “the roof and crown of things,”
one of the latest in the series. We have no more
right, let it be observed, to say that man, the highest,
appeared last, than that the lowest appeared first.
It was probably so, in both cases; but there is as
yet no positive proof of either; and as we know that
species of animals lower than those which already
existed appeared again and again during the various
eras, so it is quite possible that they may be appear-

ing now, and may appear hereafter: and that for
THE WONDERS OF THE SILORE, 95

every extinct Dodo or Moa, a new species may be
created, to keep up the equilibrium of the whole.
This is but a surmise: but it may be wise, perhaps,
just now, to confess boldly, even to insist on, its
possibility, lest any should fancy, from our unwill-
ingness to allow it, that there would be ought in it, if
proved, contrary to sound religion.

I am, I must honestly confess, more and more
unable to perceive anything which an orthodox
Christian may not hold, in those physical theories
of “evolution,” which are gaining more and more
the assent of our best zoologists and botanists. All
that they ask us to believe is, that “species” and
“ families,” and indeed the whole of organic nature,
have gone through, and may still be going through,
some such development from a lowest germ, as we
know that every living individual, from the lowest
zoophyte to man himself, does actually go through.
They apply to the whole of the living world, past,
present, and future, the law which is undeniably at
work on each individual of it. They may be wrong,

or they may be right: but what is there in such a
96 GLAUCUS; OR,

conception contrary to any doctrine—at least..of the
Church of England? To say that this cannot be
true ; that species cannot vary, because God, at the
beginning, created each thing “according to its
kind,” is really to beg the question ; which is—Does
the idea of “kind” include variability or not? and
if so, how much variability? Now, “kind,” or:
“species,” as we call it, is defined nowhere in the
Bible. What right have we to read our own defini-
tion into the word ?—and that against the certain
fact, that some “kinds” do vary, and that widely,—
mankind, for instance, and the animals and plants
which he domesticates. Surely that latter fact
should be significant, to those who believe, as I do,
that man was. created in the likeness of God. For
if man has the power, not only of making plants
and animals vary, but of developing them into forms
of higher beauty and usefulness than their wild
ancestors possessed, why should not the God in whose
image he is made possess the same power? If the
old theological rule be true-—“There is nothing

in man which was not first in God” (sin, of course,
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 97

excluded)—then why should not this imperfect crea-
tive faculty in man be the very guarantee that God
possesses it in perfection ?

Such at least is the conclusion of one who,
studying certain families of plants, which indulge in
the most fantastic varieties of shape and size, and
yet through all. their vagaries retain—as do the
Palms, the Orchids, the Euphorbiacezee—one organ,
or form of organs, peculiar and highly specialized,
yet constant throughout the whole of each family,
has been driven to the belief that each of these three
families, at least, has “sported off” from one com-
mon ancestor—one archetypal Palm, one archetypal
Orchid, one archetypal Euphorbia, simple, it may be,
in itself, but endowed with infinite possibilities of
new and complex beauty, to be developed, not in it,
but in its descendants. He has asked himself, sitting
alone amid the boundless wealth of tropic forests,
whether even then and there the great God might
not be creating round him, slowly but surely, new
forms of beauty? If he chose to do it, could He not
do it? That man found himself none the worse

Eq
98 GLAUCUS; OR,

Christian for the thought. He has said—and must
be allowed to say again, for he sees no reason to alter
his words—in speaking of the wonderful variety of
forms in the Euphorbiacez, from the weedy English
Euphorbias, the Dog’s Mercuries, and the Box, to
the prickly-stemmed Scarlet Euphorbia of Mada-
gascar, the succulent Cactus-like Euphorbias of the
Canaries and elsewhere ; the Gale-like Phyllanthus ;
the many-formed Crotons ; the Hemp-like Maniocs,
Physic-nuts, Castor-oils, the scarlet Poinsettia, the
little pink and yellow Dalechampia, the poisonous
Manchineel, and the gigantic Hura, or sandbox tree,
of the West Indies,—all so different in shape and
size, yet all alike in their most peculiar and com-
plex fructification, and in their acrid milky juice,—
“What if all these forms are the descendants of
one original form? Would that be one whit the
more wonderful than the theory that they were,
each and all, with the minute, and often imaginary,
shades of difference between certain cognate species
among them, created separately and at once? But

if it be so—which I cannot allow—what would the
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 99

theologian have to say, save that God’s works are
even more wonderful than he always believed them
to be? As for the theory being impossible—that is
is to be decided by men of science, on strict experi-
mental grounds. As for us theologians, who are we,
that we should limit, 4 priori, the power of God?
‘Is anything too hard for the Lord?’ asked the
prophet of old; and we have a right to ask it as
long as the world shall last. If it be said that
‘natural selection, or, as Mr. Herbert Spencer
better defines it, the ‘survival of the fittest,’ is
too simple a cause to produce such fantastic variety
—that, again, is a question to be settled exclusively
by men of science, on their own grounds. We,
meanwhile, always knew that God works by
very simple, or seemingly simple, means; that
the universe, as far as we could discern it, was one
organization of the most simple means. It was
wonderful—or should have been—in our eyes, that
a shower of rain should make the grass grow, and
that the grass should become flesh, and the flesh
food for the thinking brain of man. It was—or

H 2
100 GLAUCUS ; OR,

ought to have been—more wonderful yet to us that a
child should resemble its parents, or even a butterfly
resemble, if not always, still usually, its parents
likewise. Ought God to appear less or more august
in our eyes if we discover that the means are even
simpler than we supposed? We held Him to be
Almighty and All-wise. Are we to reverence Him
less or more if we find Him to be so much mightier,
so much wiser, than we dreamed, that He can not
only make all things, but—the very perfection of
creative power—make all things make themselves?
We believed that His care was over all His
works; that His providence worked perpetually
over the universe. We were taught—some of us
at least —by Holy Scripture, that without Him
not a sparrow fell to the ground, and that the
very hairs of our head were all numbered; that
the whole history of the universe was made up, in
fact, of an infinite network of special providences.
If, then, that should be true which a great na-
turalist writes, ‘It may be metaphorically said that

natural selection is daily and hourly scrutinizing,
THE WONDERS OF THE SILORE, ~ JOL

throughout the world, every variation, even the
slightest; rejecting that which is bad, preserving
and adding up all that is good; silently and insen-
sibly working, whenever and wherever opportunity
offers, at the improvement of cach organic being, in
relation to its organic and imorganic conditions of
life”— if this, I say, were proved to be true, ought
God’s care and God’s providence to seem less or more
magnificent in our eyes? Of old it was said by
Him without whom nothing is made— My Father
worketh hitherto, and I work.” Shall we quarrel
with physical science, if she gives us evidence that
those words are true ?”

And—understand it well—the grand passage
I have just quoted need not be accused of substi-
tuting “natural selection for God.” In any case
natural selection would be only the means or law
by which God works, as He does by other natural
laws. We do not substitute gravitation for God,
when we say that the planets are sustained in
their orbits by the law of gravitation. The theory

about natural selection may be untrue, or imperfect,
102 GLAUCUS; OR,

as may the modern theories of the “evolution and
progress” of organic forms: let the man of science
decide that. But if true, the theories seem to me
perfectly to agree with, and may be perfectly ex-
plained by, the simple old belief which the Bible
sets before us, of a Living Gop: not a mere past
will, such as the Koran sets forth, creating once
and for all, and then leaving the universe, to use
Goethe’s simile, “to spin round his finger;” nor
again, an “all-pervading spirit,’ words which are
mere contradictory jargon, concealing, from those
who utter them, blank Materialism: but One who
works in all things which have obeyed Him to will
and to do of His good pleasure, keeping His abysmal
and self-perfect purpose, yet altering the methods
by which that purpose is attained, from eon to
zon, ay, from moment to moment, for ever various,
yet for ever the same. This great and yet most
blessed paradox of the Changeless God, who yet can
say “It repenteth me,” and “ Behold, I work a new
thing on the earth,” is revealed no less by nature

than by Scripture ; the changeableness, not of caprice
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 103

or imperfection, but of an Infinite Maker and
“Poietes,” drawing ever fresh forms out of the in-
exhaustible treasury of His primeeval Mind; and yet
never throwing away a conception to which He has
once given actual birth in time and space, (but to
compare reverently small things and great) lovingly
repeating it, re-applying it; producing the same
effects by endlessly different methods; or so deli-
cately modifying the method that, as by the turn
of a hair, it shall produce endlessly diverse effects ;
looking back, as it were, ever and anon over the
great work of all the ages, to retouch it, and fill
up each chasm in the scheme, which for some
good purpose had been left open in earlier worlds ;
or leaving some open (the forms, for instance, neces-
sary to connect the bimana and the quadrumana)
to be filled up perhaps hereafter when the world
necds them; the handiwork, in short, of a living
and loving Mind, perfect in His own eternity, but
stooping to work in time and space, and there
rejoicing Himself in the work of His own hands,

and in His eternal Sabbaths ceasing in rest
104 GLAUCUS ; OR,

ineffable, that He may look on that which He hath
made, and behold it is very good.

I speak, of course, under correction; for this
conclusion is emphatically matter of induction, and
must be verified or modified by ever-fresh facts : but
I meet with many a Christian passage in scientific
books, which seems to me to go, not too far, but
rather not far enough, in asserting the God of the
Bible, as Saint Paul says, “not to have left Himself
without witness,” in nature itself, that He is the God
of grace. Why speak of the God of nature and the
God of grace as two antithetical terms? The Bible
never, in a single instance, makes the distinction ;
and surely, if God be (as He is) the Eternal and
Unchangeable One, and if (as we all confess) the
universe bears the impress of His signet, we have
no right, in the present infantile state of science,
to put arbitrary limits of our own to the revelation
which He may have thought good to make of Him-
self in nature. Nay, rather, let us believe that, if
our eyes were opened, we should fulfil the re-

quirement of Genius, to “see the universal in the
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 105

particular,” by seeing God’s whole likeness, His
whole glory, reflected as in a mirror even in the
meanest flower; and that nothing but the dumess
of our own souls prevents them from seeing day
and night in all things, however small or trivial
to human eclecticism, the Lord Jesus Christ Him-
self fulfilling His own saying, “ My Father worketh
hitherto, and I work.”

To me it seems (to sum up, in a few words, what
IT have tried to say) that such development and pro-
gress as have as yet been actually discovered in
nature, bear every trace of having been produced by
successive acts of thought and will in some personal
mind; which, however boundlessly rich and power-
ful, is still the Archetype of the human mind; and
therefore (for to this I confess I have been all along
tending) probably capable, without violence to its
properties, of becoming, ike the human mind,
incarnate.

But to descend from these perhaps too daring
speculations, there is another, and more human,

source of interest about the animal who is writhing
106 GLAUCUS ; OR,

feebly in the glass jar of salt water; for he is one of
the many curiosities which have been added to our
fauna by that humble hero Mr. Charles Peach, the
self-taught naturalist, of whom, as we walk on
toward the rocks, something should be said, or
rather read; for Mr. Chambers, in an often-quoted
passage from his Edinburgh Journal, which I must
have the pleasure of quoting once again, has told the
story better than we can tell it :—

“But who is that little intelligent-looking man
in a faded naval uniform, who is so invariably to
be seen in a particular central seat in this section?
That, gentle reader, is perhaps one of the most
interesting men who attend the British Association.
He is only a private in the mounted guard (pre-
ventive service) at an obscure part of the Cornwall
coast, with four shillings a day, and a wife and nine
children, most of whose education he has himself to
conduct. He never tastes the luxuries which are
socommon in the middle ranks of life, and even
amongst a large portion of the working classes. He

has to mend with his own hands every sort of thing
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 107

that can break or wear in his house. Yet Mr. Peach
is a votary of Natural History ; not a student of the
science in books, for he cannot afford books; but an
investigator by sea and shore, a collector of Zoo-
phytes and Echinodermata—strange creatures, many
of which are as yet hardly known to man. These
he collects, preserves, and describes; and every year
does he come up to the British Association with a
few novelties of this kind, accompanied by illustra-
tive papers and drawings: thus, under circumstances
the very opposite of those of such men as Lord
Enniskillen, adding, in like manner, to the general
stock of knowledge. On the present occasion he is
unusually elated, for he has made the discovery of a
Holothuria with twenty tentacula, a species of the
Echinodermata which Professor Forbes, in his book
on Star-Fishes, has said was never yet observed in
the British seas. It may be of small moment to
you, who, mayhap, know nothing of Holothurias:
but it is a considerable thing to the Fauna of Britain,
and a vast matter to a poor private of the Cornwall

mounted guard. And accordingly he will go home
108 GLAUCUS ; OR,

in a few days, full of the glory of his exhibition, and
strung anew by the kind notice taken of him by the
masters of the science, to similar inquiries, difficult as
it may be to prosecute them, under such a complica-
tion of duties, professional and domestic. Honest
Peach! humble as is thy home, and simple thy
bearing, thou art an honour even to this assemblage
of nobles and doctors: nay, more, when we consider
everything, thou art an honour to human nature it-
self; for where is the heroism like that of virtuous,
intelligent, independent poverty ? And such heroism
is thine!”—Chambers’ Edin. Journ., Nov. 23, 1844.

Mr. Peach has been since rewarded in part for his
long labours in the cause of science, by having been
removed to a more lucrative post on the north coast
of Scotland ; the earnest, it is to be hoped, of still
further promotion.

I mentioned just now Synapta; or, as Montagu
called it, Chirodota: a much better name, and, I
think, very uselessly changed; for Chirodota ex-
presses the peculiarity of the beast, which consists

in—start not, reader—twelve hands, like human

THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE, 109

hands, while Synapta expresses merely its power of
clinging to the fingers, which it possesses in common
with many other animals. It is, at least, a beast
worth talking about; as for finding one, I fear that
we have no chance of such good fortune.

Colonel Montagu found them here some forty
years ago; and after him, Mr. Alder, in 1845. I
found hundreds of them, but only once, in 1854
after a heavy south-eastern gale, washed up among
the great Lutrariz in a cove near Goodrington; but
all my dredging outside failed to procure a specimen.
Mr. Alder, however, and Mr. Cocks (who find every-
thing, and will at lest certainly catch Midgard, the
great sea-serpent, as Thor did, by baiting for him
with a bull’s head), have dredged them in great
numbers; the former, at Helford in Cornwall, the
latter on the west coast of Scotland. It seems,
however, to be a southern monster, probably a
remnant, like the great cockle, of the Mediterraenan
fauna ; for Mr. MacAndrew finds them plentifully in
Vigo Bay, and J. Miiller in the Adriatic, off Trieste,

But what is it like? Conceive a very fat short
110 GLAUCUS ; OR,

earth-worm ; not ringed, though, like the earth-worm,
but smooth and glossy, dappled with darker spots,
especially on one side, which may be the upper one.
Put round its mouth twelve little arms, on each a
hand with four ragged fingers, and on the back of:
the hand a stump of a thumb, and you have
Synapta Digitata (Plates IV. and V., from my draw-
ings of the live animal). These hands it puts down
to its mouth, generally in alternate pairs, but how
it obtains its food by them is yet a mystery, for
its intestines are filled, like an earth-worm’s, with
the mud in which it lives, and from which it
probably extracts (as does the earth-worm) all
organic matters.

You will find it stick to your fingers by the whole
skin, causing, if your hand be delicate, a tingling
sensation; and if you examine the skin under the
microscope, you will find the cause. The whole skin
is studded with minute glass anchors, some hanging
freely from the surface, but most imbedded in the
skin. Each of these anchors is jointed at its root

into one end of a curious cribriform plate,—in plain
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE, 111

English, one pierced like a sieve, which lies under
the skin, and reminds one of the similar plates in
the skin of the White Cucumaria, which I will
show you presently; and both of these we must
regard as the first rudiments of an Echinoderm’s
outside skeleton, such as in the Sea-urchins covers
the whole body of the animal. (See on Echinus
Miliaris, p. 89.) Somewhat similar anchor-plates,
from a Red Sea species, Synapta Vittata, may be
seen in any collection of microscopic objects.

The animal, when caught, has a strange habit of
self-destruction, contracting its skin at two or three
different points, and writhing till it snaps itself into
“junks,” as the sailors would say, and then dies.
My specimens, on breaking up, threw out from the
wounded part long “ ovarian filaments” (whatsoever
those may be), similar to those thrown out by many
of the Sagartian anemones, especially S. parasitica.
Beyond this, I can tell you nothing about Synapta,

1 An admirable paper on this extraordinary family may be found
in the Zoological Society’s Proceedings for July 1858, by Messrs.

S. P. Woodward and the late lamented Lucas Barrett. See also
Quatrefages, I. 82, or Syuapia Duvernei.
112 GLAUCUS; OR,

and only ask you to consider its hands, as an
instance of that fantastic play of Nature which
repeats, in families widely different, organs of similar
form, though perhaps of by no means similar use;
nay, sometimes (as in those beautiful clear-wing
hawk-moths which you, as they hover round the
rhododendrons, mistake for bumble-bees) repeats the
outward form of a whole animal, for no conceivable
reason save her—shall we not say honestly His ?—
own good pleasure.

But here we are at the old bank of boulders, the
ruins of an antique pier which the monks of Tor
Abbey built for their convenience, while Torquay
was but a knot of fishing huts within a lonely lime-
stone cove. To get to it, though, we have passed
many a hidden treasure; for every ledge of these
flat New-red-sandstene rocks, if torn up with the
crowbar, discloses in its cracks and crannies nests
of strange forms which shun the light of day;
beautiful Actinic fill the tiny caverns with living
flowers; great Pholades (Plate X. figs. 3, 4) bore

by hundreds in the softer strata; and wherever
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 1138

a thin layer of muddy sand intervenes between
two slabs, long Annelid worms of quaintest forms
and colours have their horizontal burrows, among
those of that curious and rare radiate animal, the
Spoonworm,! an eyeless bag about an inch long,
half bluish grey, half pink, with a strange scalloped
and wrinkled proboscis of saffron colour, which
serves, In some mysterious way, soft as it is, to
collect food, and clear its dark passage through
the rock.

See, at the extreme low-water mark, where the
broad olive fronds of the Laminariee, like fan-palms,
droop and wave gracefully in the retiring ripples,
a great boulder which will serve our purpose. Its
upper side is a whole forest of sea-weeds, large and
small; and that forest, if you examined it closely,
as full of inhabitants as those of the Amazon or the
Gambia. To “beat”. that dense cover would be an
endless task: but on the under side, where no sea-
weeds grow, we shall find full in view enough to
occupy us till the tide returns. or the slab, see, is

1 Thalassema Neptuni (Forbes’ British Star-Fishes, p. 259).

I
114 GLAUCUS ; OR,

such a one as sea-beasts love to haunt. Its weed-
covered surface shows that the surge has not shifted
it fcr years past. It lies on other boulders clear of
sand and mud, so that there is no fear of dead sea-
weed having lodged and decayed under it, destruc-
tive to animal life We can see dark crannies
and caves beneath; yet too narrow to allow the
surge to wash in, and keep the surface clean. It
will be a fine menagerie of Nereus, if we can but
turn it.

Now the crowbar is well under it; heave, and
with a will; and so, after five minutes’ tugging,
propping, slipping, and splashing, the boulder gra-
dually tips over, and we rush greedily upon the spoil.

A muddy dripping surface it is, truly, full of
cracks and hollows, uninviting enough at first sight :
let us look it round leisurely, to see if there are not
materials enough there for an hour’s lecture.

The first object which strikes the eye is probably
a group of milk-white slugs, from two to six inches
long, cuddling snugly together (Plate IX. fig. 1).

You try to pull them off, and find that they give


i. CUCUMARIA HYNDMANNT 4. UWTTORINA LITTOREA

SIPHUNCULUS BERNUARDUS in shell of TURRITELLA, with lving BALANI.
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 115

you some trouble, such a firm hold have the delicate
white sucking arms, which fringe each of their five
edges. You see at the head nothing but a yellow
dimple; for eating and breathing are suspended till
the return of tide; but once settled in a jar of salt-
water, each will protrude a large chocolate-coloured
head, tipped with a ring of ten feathery gills, look-
ing very much like a head of “curled kale,” but
of the loveliest white and primrose; in the centre
whereof lies perdu a mouth with sturdy teeth—if
indeed they, as well as the whole inside of the
beast, have not been lately got rid of, and what
you see be not a mere bag, without intestine or
other organ: but only for the time being. For
hear it, worn-out epicures, and old Indians who
bemoan your livers, this little Holothuria knows a
secret which, if he could tell it, you would be glad
to buy of him for thousands sterling. To him blue
pill and muriatic acid are superfluous, and travels
to German Brunnen a waste of time. Happy Holo-
thuria! who possesses really the secret of everlast-
ing youth, which ancient fable bestowed on the

13
116 GLAUCUS ; OR,

serpent and the eagle. For when his teeth ache,
or his digestive organs trouble him, all he has to
do is just to cast up forthwith his entire inside,
and, faisant maigre for a month or so, grow a fresh
set, and then eat away as merrily as ever. His
name, if you wish to consult so triumphant a
hygeist, is Cucumaria Pentactes: but he has many
a stout cousin round the Scotch coast, who knows
the antibilious panacea as well as he, and submits,
among the northern fishermen, to the rather rude
and undeserved name of sea-puddings; one of
which grows in Shetland to the enormous length
of three feet, rivalling there his huge congeners,
who display their exquisite plumes on every tropic
coral reef. ?

Next, what are those bright little buds, like
salmon-coloured Banksia roses half expanded, sit-
ting closely on the stone? Touch them; the soft
part is retracted, and the orange flower of flesh is

1 The Londoner may see specimens of them at the Zoological
Gardens and at the Crystal Palace ; asalso of the rare and beautiful
Sabella, figured in the same plate ; and of the Balanophyllia, or a
closely-allied species, from the Mediterranean, mentioned in p. 109.
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 117

transformed into a pale pink flower of stone. That
is the Madrepore, Caryophyllia Smithii (Plate V.
fig. 2); one of our south coast rarities: and see,
on the lip of the last one, which we have carefully
scooped off with the chisel, two little pink towers
‘of stone, delicately striated; drop them into this
small bottle of sea-water, and from the top of each
tower issues every half-second—what shall we call
it?—a hand or a net of finest hairs, clutching at
something invisible to our grosser sense. That is
the Pyrgoma, parasitic only (as far as we know)
on the lip of this same rare Madrepore; a little
“ cirrhipod,” the cousin of those tiny barnacles
which roughen every rock (a larger sort whereof
T showed you on the Turritella), and of those larger
ones also who burrow in the thick hide of the
whale, and, borne about upon his mighty sides,
throw out their tiny casting nets, as this Pyrgoma
does, to catch every passing animalcule, and sweep
them into the jaws concealed within its shell, And
this creature, rooted to one spot through life and

death, was in its infancy a free swimming animal,
Plate &.








+, B. Soweriry, & C.K ded W. Dickes,
1. BALANOPITYLLEA REGIA expanded 3. SAGARTIA ANGUICOMA closed

a. v9 be a Le De basal dise showing radiating septa.
b De bo < 4. SYNAPTA DI TA See Pune 4,
© ve bo tentacke cnla | ad lingered. tentacles colarged

2. CARYOPITYLLEA SMITII partly expa « 5
Ns be Lo section ot bey plates. — | a on its transparent anchor plate
b bo De tentacle 2.15) TA? perforated anchor plate a, Spicula,


118 GLAUCUS ; OR,

hovering from place to place upon delicate ciliz,
till, having sown its wild oats, it settled down in
life, built itself a good stone house, and became
a landowner, or rather a glebee adscriptus, for ever
and a day. Mysterious destiny !—yet not so mys-
terious as that of the free medusoid young of every
polype and coral, which ends as a rooted tree of
horn or stone, and seems to the eye of sensuous
fancy to have literally degenerated into a vegetable.
Of them you must read for yourself in Mz.
Gosse’s book; in the meanwhile he shall tell you
something of the beautiful Madrepores themselves.
His description,! by far the best yet published,
should be read in full; we must content ourselves
with extracts.

“Doubtless you are familiar with the stony ske-
leton of our Madrepore, as ‘it appears in museums.
It consists of a number of thin calcareous plates
standing up edgewise, and arranged in a radiating
manner round a low centre. A little below the
margin their individuality is lost in the deposition

1 A Naturalist’s Rambles on the Devonshire Coast, p. 110.
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 119

of rough calcareous matter. . . . The general
form is more or less cylindrical, commonly wider at
top than just above the bottom. . . . This is
but the skeleton; and though it is a very pretty
object, those who are acquainted with it alone, can
form but a very poor idea of the beauty of the living
animal. . . . Let it, after being torn from the
rock, recover its equanimity; then you will see a
pellucid gelatinous flesh emerging from between the
plates, and little exquisitely formed and coloured
tentacula, with white clubbed tips fringing the sides
of the cup-shaped cavity in the centre, across which
stretches the oval disc marked with a star of some
rich and brilliant colour, surrounding the central
mouth, a slit with white crenated lips, like the orifice
of one of those elegant cowry shells which we put
upon our mantelpieces. The mouth is always more
or less prominent, and can be protruded and ex-
panded to an astonishing extent. The space sur-
rounding the lips is commonly fawn colour, or rich
chestnut-brown, the star or vandyked circle rich

red, pale vermilion, and sometimes the most brilliant
120 GLAUCUS ; OR,

emerald green, as brilliant as the gorget of a hum-
ming-bird.”

And what does this exquisitely delicate creature
do with its pretty mouth? Alas for fact! It sips
no honey-dew, or fruits from paradise—“I put a
minute spider, as large as a pin’s head, into the
water, pushing it down to the coral. The instant it
touched the tip of a tentacle, it adhered, and was
drawn in with the surrounding tentacles between the
plates. With a lens I saw the small mouth slowly
open, and move over to that side, the lips gaping
unsymmetrically ; while with a movement as imper-
ceptible as that of the hour hand of a watch, the
tiny prey was carried along between the plates to
the corner of the mouth. The mouth, however,
moved most, and at length reached the edges of
the plates, gradually closed upon the insect, and
then returned to its usual place in the centre.”

Mr. Gosse next tried the fairy of the walking
mouth with a house-fly, who escaped only by hard
fighting ; and at last the gentle creature, after swal-

lowing and disgorging various large pieces of shell-
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 121

fish, found viands to its taste in “the lean of cooked
meat and portions of earthworms,” fillmg up the
intervals by a perpetual dessert of microscopic ani-
malcules, whirled into that lovely avernus, its mouth,
by the currents of the delicate cilize which clothe
every tentacle. The fact is, that the Madrepore, like
those glorious sea-anemones whose living flowers
stud every pool, is by profession a scavenger and
a feeder on carrion; and being as useful as he is
beautiful, really comes under the rule which he
seems at first to break, that handsome is who hand-
some does.

Another species of Madrepore! was discovered on
our Devon coast by Mr. Gosse, more gaudy, though
not so delicate in hue as our Caryophyllia. Mr.
Gosse’s locality, for this and numberless other curi-
osities, is Ilfracombe, on the north coast of Devon.
My specimens came from Lundy Island, in the
mouth of the British Channel, or more properly
from that curious “Rat Island” to the south of it,
where still lingers the black long-tailed English rat,

1 Balanophyllia regia, Plate V. fig. 1.
122 GLAUCUS; OR,

exterminated everywhere else by his sturdier brown
cousin of the Hanoverian dynasty.

Look, now, at these tiny saucers of the thinnest
ivory, the largest not bigger than a silver three-
pence, which contain in their centres a milk-white
crust of stone, pierced, as you see under the mag-
nifier, into a thousand cells, each with its living
architect within. Here are two kinds: in one the
tubular cells radiate from the centre, giving it the
appearance of a tiny compound flower, daisy or
groundsel; in the other they are crossed with
waving grooves, giving the whole a peculiar fretted
look, even more beautiful than that of the former
species. They are Tubulipora patina and Tubulipora

and stay—break off that tiny rough red



hispida ;
wart, and look at its cells also under the magnifier:
it is Cellepora pumicosa; and now, with the
Madrepore, you hold in your hand the principal, at
least the commonest, British types of those famed
coral insects, which in the tropics are the architects
of continents, and the conquerors of the ocean

surge, All the world, since the publication of
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 123

Darwin’s delightful “Voyage of the Beagle,” and
of Williams’ “ Missionary Enterprises,’ knows, or
ought to know, enough about them: for those who
do not, there are a few pages in the beginning of
Dr. Landsborough’s “ British Zoophytes,” well worth
perusal.

There are a few other true cellepore corals round
the coast. The largest of all, Cervicornis, may be
dredged a few miles outside on the Exmouth bank,
with a few more Tubulipores: but all tiny things,
the lingering and, as it were, expiring remnants of
that great coral-world which, through the abysmal
depths of past ages, formed here in Britain our
limestone hills, storing up for generations yet unborn
the materials of agriculture and architecture. Inex-
pressibly interesting, even solemn, to those who will
think, is the sight of those puny parasites which, as
it were, connect the ages and the eons: yet not so
solemn and full of meaning as that tiny relic of
an older world, the little pear-shaped Turbinolia
(cousin of the Madrepores and Sea-anemones), found

fossil in the Suffolk Crag, and yet still lingering
124 GLAUCUS 3 OR,

here and there alive in the deep water of Scilly and
the west coast of Ireland, possessor of a pedigree
which dates, perhaps, from ages before the day in
which it was said, “ Let us make man in our image,
after our likeness.” To think that the whole human
race, its joys and its sorrows, its virtues and its sins,
its aspirations and its failures, has been rushing out
of eternity and into eternity again, as Arjoon in the
Bhagavad Gita beheld the race of men issuing from
Kreeshna’s flaming mouth, and swallowed up in it
again, “as the crowds of insects swarm into the
flame, as the homeless streams leap down into the
ocean bed,” in an everlasting heart-pulse whose blood
is living souls—and all that while, and ages before
that mystery began, that humble coral, unnoticed on
the dark sea-floor, has been “continuing as it was at
the beginning,” and fulfilling “the law which cannot
be broken,” while races and dynasties and genera-

tions have been

Playing such fantastic tricks before high heaven,
As make the angels weep.”

Yes; it is this vision of the awful permanence and
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE, 125

perfection of the natural world, beside the wild flux
and confusion, the mad struggles, the despairing
cries of the world of spirits which man has defiled
by sin, which would at moments crush the natu-
ralist’s heart, and make his brain swim with terror,
were it not that he can see by faith, through all the

abysses and the ages, not merely

‘« Hands,

From out the darkness, shaping man ;”
but above them a living loving countenance, human
and yet Divine; and can hear a voice which said at
first, “ Let us make man in our image;” and hath
said since then, and says for ever and for ever,
“To, I am with you alway, even to the end of
the world.”

But now, friend, who listenest, perhaps instructed,
and at least amused—if, as Professor Harvey well
says, the simpler animals represent, as in a glass, the
scattered organs of the higher races, which of your
organs is represented by that “sca’d man’s head,”
which the Devon children more gracefully, yet with

less adherence to plain likeness, call “mermaid’s
126 GLAUCUS ; OR,

head,”! which we picked up just now on Paignton
Sands? Or which, again, by its more beautiful little
congener,” five or six of which are adhering tightly
to the slab before us, a ball covered with delicate
spines of lilac and green, and stuck over (cunning
fellows !) with stripes of dead sea-weed to serve as
improvised parasols? One cannot say that in him
we have the first type of the human skull: for the
resemblance, quaint as it is, is only sensuous and
accidental, (in the logical use of that term,) and
not homological, zc. a lower manifestation of the
game idea. Yet how is one tempted to say, that
this was Nature’s first and lowest attempt at that
use of hollow globes of mineral for protecting soft
fleshy parts, which she afterwards developed to such
perfection in the skulls of vertebrate animals! But
even that conceit, pretty as it sounds, will not hold
good; for though Radiates similar to these were
among the earliest tenants of the abyss, yet as
early as their time, perhaps even before them, had
been conceived and actualized, in the sharks, and in

1 Amphidotus cordatus, 2 Echinus miliaris, Plate VII.
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 127

Mr. Hugh Miller’s pets the old red sandstone fishes,
that very true vertebrate skull and brain, of which
this is a mere mockery.! Here the whole animal,
with his extraordinary feeding mill, (for neither
teeth nor jaws is a fit word for it,) is enclosed
within an ever-growing limestone castle, to the
architecture of which the Eddystone and the Crystal
Palace are bungling heaps; without arms or legs,
eyes or ears, and yet capable, in spite of his per-
petual imprisonment, of walking, feeding, and breed-
ing, doubt it not, merrily enough. But this result
has been attained at the expense of a complication
of structure, which has baffled all human analysis
and research into final causes. As much concerning
this most miraculous of families as is needful to be
known, and ten times more than you are likely to
understand, may be read in Harvey’s “Sea-Side Book,”
pp. 142-148,—pages from which you will probably
arise with a sense of the infinity and complexity of

Nature, even in what we are pleased to call her

1 See Professor Sedgwick’s last edition of the ‘‘ Discourses on
the Studies of Cambridge.”
128 GLAUCUS ; OR,

“lower” forms, and the simplest and, as it were,
easiest forms of life. Conceive a Crystal Palace,
(for mere difference in size, as both the naturalist
and the metaphysician know, has nothing to do
with the wonder,) whereof each separate joist, girder,
and pane grows continually without altering the
shape of the whole ; and you have conceived only
one of the miracles embodied in that little sea-ege,
which the Creator has, as it were, to justify to man
His own immutability, furnished with a shell
capable of enduring fossil for countless ages, that:
we may confess Him to have been as great when
first His Spirit brooded on the deep, as He is now
and will be through all worlds to come.

But we must make haste; for the tide is rising
fast, and our stone will be restored to its eleven
hours’ bath, long before we have talked over half
the wonders which it holds. Look though, ere you
retreat, at one or two more.

What is that little brown thing whom you have
just taken off the rock to which it adhered so

stoutly by his sucking-foot? A limpet? Not at


| SERFCLA CONTORTUPLICATA 3. DORIS REPANDA 5. PHOLADINaA PAPYRACEA



Z HINNITES PUSIO EOLIS PELLUCIDA 6. PHOLAS PARV

FISSURELLA GRAZCA
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 129

all: he is of quite a different family and structure ;
but, on the whole, a limpet-like sheil would suit
him well enough, so he had one given him: never-
theless, owing to certain anatomical peculiarities, he
needed one aperture more than a limpet; so one, if
you will examine, has been given him at the top of
his shell! This is one instance among a thousand
of the way in which a scientific knowledge of objects
must not obey, but run counter to, the impressions
of sense; and of a custom in nature which makes
this caution so necessary, namely, the repetition of
the same form, slightly modified, in totally different
animals, sometimes as if to avoid waste, (for why
should not the same conception be used in two
different cases, if it will suit in both ?) and some-
times (more marvellous by far) when an organ, fully
developed and useful in one species, appears in a
cognate species but feeble, useless, and, as it were,
abortive; and gradually, in species still farther
removed, dies out altogether ; placed there, it would
seem, at first sight, merely to keep up the family

1 Fissurella greeca, Plate X. fig. 5.
130 GLAUCUS; OR,

likeness. J am half jesting; that cannot be the
only reason, perhaps not the reason at all; but the
fact is one of the most curious, and notorious also,
in comparative anatomy.

Look, again, at those sea-slugs. One, some three
inches long, of a bright Jemon-yellow, clouded with
purple; another of a dingy grey;* another exquisite
little creature of a pearly French white,? furred all
over the back with what seem arms, but are really
gills, of ringed white and grey and black. Put that
yellow one into water, and from his head, above
the eyes, arise two serrated horns, while from the
after-part of his back springs a circular Prince-of-
Wales’s-feather of gills—they are almost exactly
like those which we saw just now in the white
Cucumaria. Yes; here is another instance of the
same custom of repetition. The Cucumaria is a
low radiate animal—the sea-slug a far higher mol-

lusc; and every organ within him is formed on a

1 Doris tuberculata and bilineata.
2 Kolis papi losa. A Doris and an Eolis, though not of these
species, are figured in Plate X.
THE WONDERS OF TIE SHORE. 131

different type; as indeed are those seemingly iden-
tical gills, if you come to examine them under the
microscope, having to oxygenate fluids of a very dif-
ferent and more complicated kind; and, moreover, |
the Cucumaria’s gills were put round his mouth,
the Doris’s feathers round the other extremity ; that
grey Eolis’s, again, are simple clubs, scattered over
his whole back, and in each of his nudibranch
congeners these same gills take some new and
fantastic form; in Melibsea those clubs are covered
with warts; in Scyllea, with tufted bouquets ; in
the beautiful Antiopa they are transparent bags ;
and in many other English species they take every
conceivable form of leaf, tree, flower, and branch,
bedecked with every colour of the rainbow, as you
may see them depicted in Messrs. Alder and Han-
cock’s unrivalled Monograph on the Nudibranch
Mollusca.

And now, worshipper of final causes and the mere
useful in nature, answer but one question,—Why
this prodigal variety? All these Nudibranchs live
in much the same way: why would not the same

K 2
132 GLAUCUS ; OR,

mould have done for them all? And why, again,
(for we must push the argument a little further,)
why have not all the butterflies, at least all who feed
on the same plant, the same markings? Of all
unfathomable triumphs of design, (we can only ex-
press ourselves thus, for honest induction, as Paley
30 well teaches, allows us to ascribe such results
only to the design of some personal will and mind,)
what surpasses that by which the scales on a butter-
fly’s wing are arranged to produce a certain pattern
of artistic beauty beyond all painter’s skill? What
a waste of power, on any utilitarian theory of nature!
And once more, why are those strange microscopic
atomies, the Diatomacese and Infusoria, which fill
every stagnant pool; which fringe every branch of
sea-weed ; which form banks hundreds of miles long
on the Arctic sea-floor, and the strata of whole moor-
lands; which pervade in millions the mass of every
iceberg, and float aloft in countless swarms amid the
clouds of the volcanic dust ;—why are their tiny
shells of flint as fantastically various in their quaint

mathematical symmetry, as they are countless be-
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 133

yond the wildest dreams of the Poet? Mystery
inexplicable on the conceited notion which, making
man forsooth the centre of the universe, dares
to believe that this variety of forms has existed
for countless ages in abysmal sea-depths and un-
trodden forests, only that some few individuals of
the Western races might, in these latter days, at last
discover and admire a corner here and there of the
boundless realms of beauty. Inexplicable, truly, if
man be the centre and the object of their existence ;
explicable enough to him who believes that God has
created all things for Himself, and rejoices in His
own handiwork, and that the material universe is,
as the wise man says, “A platform whereon His
Eternal Spirit sports and makes melody.” Of all
the blessings which the study of nature brings to the
patient observer, let none, perhaps, be classed higher
than this: that the further he enters into those
fairy gardens of life and birth, which Spenser saw
and described in his great poem, the more he learns
the awful and yet most comfortable truth, that they

do not belong to him, but to One greater, wiser,
134 GLAUCUS ; OR,

lovelier than he; and as he stands, silent with awe,
_ amid the pomp of Nature’s ever-busy rest, hears, as
of old, “The Word of the Lord God walking among
the trees of the garden in the cool of the day.”

One sight more, and we have done. I had
something to say, had time permitted, on the
ludicrous element which appears here and there in
nature. There are animals, like monkeys and crabs,
which seem made to be laughed at; by those at
least who possess that most indefinable of faculties,
the sense of the ridiculous. As long as man pos-
sesses muscles especially formed to enable him to
laugh, we have no right to suppose (with some) that
laughter is an accident of our fallen nature; or to
find (with others) the primary cause of the ridiculous
in the perception of unfitness or disharmony. And
yet we shrink (whether rightly or wrongly, we can
hardly tell) from attributing a sense of the ludicrous
to the Creator of these forms. It may be a weakness
on my part; at least I will hope it is a reverent
one: but till we can find something corresponding

to what we conceive of the Divine Mind in any
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 135

class of phenomena, it is perhaps better not to talk
about them at all, but observe a stoic “epochéd,”
waiting for more light, and yet confessing that our
own laughter is uncontrollable, and therefore we
hope not unworthy of us, at many a strange crea-
ture and strange doing which we meet, from the
highest ape to the lowest polype.

But, in the meanwhile, there are animals in which
results so strange, fantastic, even seemingly horrible,
are produced, that fallen man may, be pardoned, if
he shrinks from them in disgust. That, at least,
must be a consequence of our own wrong state ; for
everything is beautiful and perfect in its place. It
may be answered, “ Yes, in its place; but its place
is not yours. You had no business to look atit, and
must pay the penalty for intermeddling.” I doubt
that answer; for surely, if man have liberty to do
anything, he has liberty to search out freely his
heavenly Father's works; and yet every one seems
to have his antipathic animal; and I know one
bred from his childhood to zoology by land and sea,

and bold in asserting, and honest in feeling, that all
136 GLAUCUS ; OR,

without exception is beautiful, who yet cannot, after
handling and petting and admiring all day long
every uncouth and venomous beast, avoid a paroxysm
of horror at the sight of the common house-spider.
At all events, whether we were intruding or not, in
turning this stone, we must pay a fine for having
done so; for there lies an animal as foul and
monstrous to the eye as “ hydra, gorgon, or chimera
dire,” and yet so wondrously fitted to its work, that
we must needs endure for our own instruction to
handle and to look at it. Its name, if you wish for
it, is Nemertes; probably N. Borlasii;! a worm of
very “low” organization, though well fitted enough
for its own work. You see it? That black, shiny,
knotted lump among the gravel, small enough to be
taken up in a dessert spoon. Look now, as it is
raised and its coils drawn out. Three feet—six—
nine, at least: with a capability of seemingly end-
less expansion ; a slimy tape of living caoutchouc,
some eighth of an inch in diameter, a dark chocolate-
black, with paler longitudinal lines. Is it alive? It

1 Plate III.

THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 137

hangs, helpless and motionless, a mere velvet string
across the hand. Ask the neighbouring Annelids
and the fry of the rock fishes, or put it into a vase
at home, and see. It lies motionless, trailing itself
among the gravel ; you cannot tell where it begins
or ends; it may be a dead strip of sea-weed, Himan-
thalia lorea, perhaps, or Chorda filum; or even a
tarred string. So thinks the little fish who plays
over and over it, till he touches at last what is too
surely a head. In an instant a bell-shaped sucker
mouth has fastened to his side. In another instant,
from one lip, a concave double proboscis, just like
a tapir’s (another instance of the repetition of forms),
has clasped him like a finger; and now begins the
struggle: but in vain. He is being “played” with
such a fishing-line as the skill of a Wilson or a
Stoddart never could invent; a living line, with
elasticity beyond that of the most delicate fly-rod,
which follows every lunge, shortening and lengthen-
ing, slipping and twining round every piece of gravel
and stem of sea-weed, with a tiring drag such as no

Highland wrist or step could ever bring to bear on
138 GLAUCUS; OR,

salmon or on trout. The victim is tired now; and
slowly, and yet dexterously, his blind assailant is
feeling and shifting along his side, till he reaches
one end of him; and then the black lips expand,
and slowly and surely the curved finger begins pack-
ing him end-foremost down into the gullet, where
he sinks, inch by inch, till the swelling which marks
his place is lost among the coils, and he is probably
macerated to a pulp long before he has reached the
opposite extremity of his cave of doom. Once safe
down, the black murderer slowly contracts again into
a knotted heap, and lies, like a boa with a stag inside
him, motionless and blest.+

There ; we must come away now, for the tide is
over our ankles; but touch, before you go, one of
those little red mouths which peep out of the stone.

A tiny jet of water shoots up almost into your face.

1 Certain Parisian zoologists have done me the honour to hint
that this description was a play of fancy. I can only answer, that
I saw it with my own eyes in my own aquarium. I am not, I
hope, in the habit of drawing on my fancy in the presence of
infinitely more marvellous Nature. Truth is quite strange enough
to be interesting without lies.
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE, 139

The bivalve! who has burrowed into the limestone
knot (the softest part of the stone to his jaws, though
the hardest to your chisel) is scandalized at having
the soft mouths of his siphons so rudely touched, and
taking your finger for some bothering Annelid, who
wants to nibble him, is defending himself; shooting
you, as naturalists do humming-birds, with water.
Let him rest in peace; it will cost you ten minutes’
hard work, and much dirt, to extract him ; but if you
are fond of shells, secure one or two of those beau-
tiful pink and straw-coloured scallops (Hinnites
pusio, Plate X. fig. 1), who have gradually incorpo-
rated the layers of their lower valve with the rough-
nesses of the stone, destroying thereby the beautiful
form which belongs to their race, but not their delicate
colour. There are a few more bivalves too, adhering
to the stone, and those rare ones, and two or three
delicate Mangeliz and Nass? are trailing their

eraceful spires up and down in search of food. That

1 Saxicava rugosa, Plate II. fig. 2.

2 Plate VIII. represents the common Nassa, with the still more
common Littorina littorea, their teeth-studded palates, and the free
swimming young of the Nassa. (Vide Appendix.)
140 GLAUCUS ; OR,

little bright red and yellow pea, too, touch it—the
brilliant coloured cloak is withdrawn, and, instead,
you have a beautiful ribbed pink cowry,! our only
European representative of that grand tropical family.
Cast one wondering glance, too, at the forest of
zoophytes and corals, Lepralie and Flustre, and
those quaint blue stars, set in brown jelly, which
are no zoophytes, but respectable molluscs, each with
his well-formed mouth and intestines,2 but combined
in a peculiar form of Communism, of which all one
can say is, that one hopes they like it; and that, at
all events, they agree better than the heroes and
heroines of Mr. Hawthorne’s “ Blithedale Romance.”

Now away, and as a specimen of the fertility of

the water-world, look at this rough list of species,®

1 Cypriea Europea. ? Botrylli.
3 Molluscs. Trochus,—2 species. Arca lactea.
Doris tuberculata. Mangelia. Pecten pusio.
——— bilineata. Triton. Tapes pullastra.
Eolis papillosa. Trophon. Kellia suborbicularis.
Pleurobranchus plu- Nassa,—2 species. Sphenia Binghami.
mula. Cerithium. Saxicava rugosa.
Neritina. Sigaretus, Gastrochcena pholadia.

Cypreea. Fissurella. Pholas parva.
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 141
‘he greater part of which are on this very stone, and
all of which you might obtain in an hour, would the
rude tide wait for zoologists: and remember that the
number of individuals of each species of polype must
be counted by tens of thousands ; and also, that, by
searching the forest of sea-weeds which covers the
upper surface, we should probably obtain some twenty
minute species more.
A goodly catalogue this, surely, of the inhabitants
of three or four large stones ; and yet how small a

specimen of the multitudinous nations of the sea!

Anomie, —2 or 8spe- Cucumaria Hynd- Actinia clavata.















cies. manni. anguicoma.
Cynthia,—2 species. communis. crassicornis,
Botryllus, do. Tubulipora patina.
Polypes. hispida.
Annelids. Sertularia pumila. serpens.
Phyliodoce, and other —_ rugosa. Crisia eburnea.
Nereid worms. —— fallax. Cellepora pumicosa.
Polynoe squamata. -__ filicula. Lepralie,—many spe-
, Plumularia falcata. cies.
Crustacea. . :
setacea. Membranipora pilosa.

4 or 5 species. . Sica tia cata
P Laomedea geniculata. Cellularia ciliata.





Echinoderms. Campanularia volubi- - scruposa.
Echinus miliaris. lis. reptans.
Asterias gibbosa. Actinia mesembryan- Flustra membrana-

Ophiocoma neglecia. themum cea, &c.






142 GLAUCUS; OR,

From the bare rocks above high-water mark, down
to abysses deeper than ever plummet sounded, is
life, everywhere life; fauna after fauna, and flora
after flora, arranged in zones, according to the amount
of light and warmth which each species requires, and
to the amount of pressure which they are able to
endure. The crevices of the highest rocks, only
sprinkled with salt spray in spring-tides and high
gales, have their peculiar little univalves, their crisp
lichen-like sea-weed, in myriads; lower down, the
region of the Fuci (bladder-weeds) has its own tribes
of periwinkles and limpets; below again, about the
neap-tide mark, the region of the corallines and Algz
furnishes food for yet other species who graze on its
watery meadows; and beneath all, only uncovered at

low spring-tide, the zone of the Laminarie (the great

tangles and ore-weeds) is most full of all of every.

imaginable form of life. So that as we descend the
rocks, we may compare ourselves (likening small
things to great) to those who, descending the Andes,
pass in a single day from the vegetation of the Arctic
zone to that of the Tropics, And here and there,
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE, 143

even at half-tide level, deep rock-basins, shaded from
the sun and always full of water, keep up in a higher
zone the vegetation of a lower one, and afford in
miniature an analogy to those deep “barrancos”
which split the high tableland of Mexico, down
whose awful cliffs, swept by cool sea-breezes, the
traveller looks from among the plants and animals
of the temperate zone, and sees far below, dim
through their everlasting vapour-bath of rank hot
steam, the mighty forms and gorgeous colours of a
tropic forest.

“T do not wonder,’ says Mr. Gosse, in his charm-
ing “ Naturalist’s Rambles on the Devonshire Coast ”
(p. 187), “that when Southey had an opportunity of
seeing some of those beautiful quiet basins hollowed
in the living rock, and stocked with elegant plants
and animals, having all the charm of novelty to his

. eye, they should have moved his poetic fancy, and
found more than one place in the gorgeous imagery
of his Oriental romances. Just listen to him

“¢ «It was a garden still beyond all price,
- Even yet it was a place of paradise ;

ci * * *


144 GLAUCUS ; OR,

And here were coral bowers,
And grots of madrepores,
And banks of sponge, as soft and fair to eye
As e’er was mossy bed
Whereon the wood-nymphs lie
With languid limbs in summer’s sultry hours.
Here, too, were living flowers,
Which, like a bud compacted,
Their purple cups contracted ;
And now in open blossom spread,
tretch’d, like green anthers, many a seeking head.
And arborets of jointed stone were there,
And plants of fibres fine as silkworm’s thread ;
Yea, beautiful as mermaid’s golden hair
Upon the waves dispread.
Others that, like the broad banana growing,
Raised their long wrinkled leaves of purple hue,
Like streamers wide outflowing.’—Kehama, xvi. 5.

“ A hundred times you might fancy you saw the
type, the very original of this description, tracing,
line by line, and image by image, the details of the
picture ; and acknowledging, as you proceed, the
minute truthfulness with which it has been drawn.
For such is the loveliness of nature in these secluded
reservoirs, that the accomplished poet, when depict-
ing the gorgeous scenes of Eastern mythology—scenés
the wildest and most extravagant that imagination

could paint—drew not upon the resources of his
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 145

prolific fancy for imagery here, but was well content
to jot down the simple lineaments of Nature as he
saw her in plain, homely England.

“Tt is a beautiful and fascinating sight for those
who have never seen it before, to see the little shrub-
beries of pink coralline— ‘the arborets of jointed
stone’—that fringe those pretty pools. It is a
charming sight to see the crimson banana-like leaves
of the Delesseria waving in their darkest corners ;
and the purple fibrous tufts of Polysiphonia and
Ceramia, ‘ fine as silkworm’s thread.’ But there are
many others which give variety and impart beauty
to these tide-pools. The broad leaves of the Ulva,
finer than the finest cambric, and of the brightest
emerald-green, adorn the hollows at the highest level,
while, at the lowest, wave tiny forests of the feathery
Ptilota and Dasya, and large leaves, cut into fringes
and furbelows, of rosy Rhodymeniz. All these are
lovely to behold; but I think I admire as much as
any of them, one of the commonest of our marine
plants, Chondrus crispus. It occurs in the greatest
profusion on this coast, in every pool between tide-

L
146 GLAUCUS ; OR,

marks ; and everywhere—except in those of the
highest level, where constant exposure to light
dwarfs the plant, and turns it of a dull umber-
brown tint—it is elegant in form and brilliant in
colour. The expanding fan-shaped fronds, cut into
segments, cut, and cut again, make fine bushy tufts
in a deep pool, and every segment of every frond
reflects a flush of the most lustrous azure, like that
of a tempered sword-blade.” — GossE’s Devonshire
Coast, pp. 187—189.

And the sea-bottom, also, has its zones, at different
depths, and its peculiar forms in peculiar spots,
affected by the currents and the nature of the ground,
the riches of which have to be seen, alas! rather by
the imagination than the eye; for such spoonfuls of
the treasure as the dredge brings up to us, come too
often rolled and battered, torn from their sites and
contracted by fear, mere hints to us of what the
populous reality below is like. Often, standing on
the shore at low tide, has one longed to walk on
and in under the waves, as the water-ousel does in

the pools of the mountain burn, and see it all but for
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 147

a moment; and a solemn beauty and meaning has
invested the old Greek fable of Glaucus the fisher-
man: how, eating of the herb which gave his fish
strength to leap back into their native element, he
was seized on the spot with a strange longing to
follow them under the waves, and became for ever a
companion of the fair semi-human forms with which
the Hellenic poets peopled their sunny bays and
firths, feeding “silent flocks” far below on the
green Zostera beds, or basking with them on the
sunny ledges in the summer noon, or wandering in
the still bays on sultry nights amid the choir of
Amphitrite and her sea-nymphs :—

“« Joining the bliss of the gods, as they waken the coves with their
laughter,”

in nightly revels, whereof one has sung,—

**So they came up in their joy; and before them the roll of the
surges

Sank, as the breezes sank dead, into smooth green foam-fiecked
marble

Awed ; and the crags of the cliffs, and the pines of the mountains,
were silent.

So they came up in their joy, and around them the lamps of the
sea-nymphs,

Myriad fiery globes, swam heaving and panting, and rainbows,

E2
148 GLAUCUS ; OR,

Crimson, and azure, and emerald, were broken in star-showers,
lighting,

Far in the wine-dark depths of the crystal, the gardens of Nereus,

Coral, and sea-fan, and tangle, the blooms and the palms of the

ocean.

So they went on in their joy, more white than the foam which they
scattered, 3

Laughing and singing and tossing and twining ; while, eager, the
Tritons

Blinded with kisses their eyes, unreproved, and above them in
worship

Fluttered the terns, and the sea-gulls swept past them on silvery
pinions,

Echoing softly their laughter; around them the wantoning
dolphins

Sighed as they plunged, full of love; and the great sea-horses
which bore them

Curved up their crests in their pride to the delicate arms of their
riders, :

Pawing the spray into gems, till a fiery rainfall, unharming,

Sparkled and gleamed on the limbs of the maids, and the coils of
the mermen.

So they went on in their joy, bathed round with the fiery coolness,

Needing nor sun nor moon, self-lighted, immortal: but others,

Pitiful, floated in silence apart ; on their knees lay the sea-boys

Whelmed by the roll of the surge, swept down by the anger of
Nereus ; ,

Hapless, whom never again upon quay or strand shall their
mothers

Welcome with garlands and vows to the temples; but, wearily
pining,

Gaze over island and main for the sails which return not; they,
‘heedless,
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 149

Sleep in soft bosoms for ever, and dream of the surge.and the sea-
maids.

So they passed by in their joy, like a dream, on the murmuring
ripple.”

Such a rhapsody may be somewhat out of order,
even in a popular scientific book ; and yet one can-
not help at moments envying the old Greek imagi-
nation, which could inform the soulless sea-world
with a human life and beauty. For, after all, star-
fishes and sea-anemones are dull substitutes for
Sirens and Tritons; the lamps of the sea-nymphs,
those glorious phosphorescent medusee whose beauty
Mr. Gosse sets forth so well with pen and pencil,
are not as attractive as the sea-nymphs themselves
would be; and who would not, like Menelaus, take
the grey old man of the sea himself asleep upon the
rocks, rather than one of his seal-herd, probably too
with the same result as the world-famous combat in
the Antiquary, between Hector and Phoca? And
yet—is there no human interest in these pursuits,
more human, ay and more divine, than there would

be even in those Triton and Nereid dreams, if realized
150 GLAUCUS ; OR,

to sight and sense? Heaven forbid that those should
say so, whose wanderings among rock and pool have
been mixed up with holiest passages of friendship
and of love, and the intercommunion of equal minds
and sympathetic hearts, and the laugh of children
drinking in health from every breeze and instruction
at every step, running ever and anon with proud
delight to add their little treasure to their parents’
stock, and of happy friendly evenings spent over the
microscope and the vase, in examining, arranging,
preserving, noting down in the diary the wonders and
the labours of the happy, busy day. No; such short
glimpses of the water-world as our present appliances
afford us are full enough of pleasure; and we will
not envy Glaucus: we will not even be over-anxious
for the success of his only modern imitator, the French
naturalist who is reported to have fitted himself
with a waterproof dress and breathing apparatus, in
order to walk the bottom of the Mediterranean, and
see for himself how the world goes on at the fifty-
fathom line: we will be content with the wonders of

the shore and of the sea-floor, as far as the dredge
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 151

will discover them to us. We shall even thus find
enough to occupy (if we choose) our lifetime. For
we must recollect that this hasty sketch has hardly
touched on that vegetable water-world, which is as
wonderful and as various as the animal one. A
hint or two of the beauty of the sea-weeds
has been given; but space has allowed no more.
Yet we might have spent our time with almost as
much interest and profit, had we neglected utterly
the animals which we have found, and devoted
our attention exclusively to the flora of the rocks.
Sea-weeds are no mere playthings for children;
and to buy at a shop some thirty pretty kinds,
pasted on paper, with long names (probably mis-
spelt) written under each, is not by any means to
possess a collection of them. Putting aside the
number and the obscurity of their species, the
questions which arise in studying their growth, re-
production, and organic chemistry are of the very
deepest and most important in the whole range of
science; and it will need but a little study of such

_a book as Harvey’s “ Alge,” to show the wise man
152 GLAUCUS ; OR,

that he who has comprehended (which no man yet
does) the mystery of a single spore or tissuc-cell,
has reached depths in the great “Science of Life”
at which an Owen would still confess himself ‘blind
by excess of light.” “Knowest thou how the bones
grow in the womb?” asks the Jewish sage, sadly,
half self-reprovingly, as he disc6vers that man is not
the measure of all things, and that in much learning
may be vanity and vexation of spirit, and in much
study a weariness of the flesh; and all our deeper
physical science only brings the same question more
awfully near. “Vilior algd,” more worthless than
the very sea-weed, says the old Roman: and yet no
torn scrap of that very sea-weed, which to-morrow
may manure the nearest garden, but says to us,
«Proud man! talking of spores and vesicles, if thou
darest for a moment to fancy that to have seen
spores and vesicles is to have seen me, or to know
what I am, answer this. Knowest thou how the
bones do grow in the womb? Knowest thou even
how one of these tiny black dots, which thou callest

spores, grow on my fronds?” And to that question


THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 153

what answer shall we make? We see tissues divide,
cells develop, processes go on—but How and Why ?
These are but phenomena; but what are phenomena
. save effects? Causes, it may be, of other effects; but
still effects of other causes. And why does the cause
cause that effect? Why should it not cause some-
thing else? Why should it cause anything at all?
Because it obeys a law. But why does it obey the
law? and how does it obey the law? And, after all,
what isa law? the same phenomenon happen a great many times ;
and we infer from thence that it has a custom
of happening ; and therefore we call it a. law: but
we have not seen the law; all we have seen is the
phenomenon which we suppose to indicate the law.
We have seen things fall: but we never saw a little
flying thing pulling them down, with “ gravitation ”
labelled on its back; and the question, why things
fall, and how, is just where it was before Newton
was born, and is likely to remain there. All we
can say is, that Nature has her customs, and that

other customs ensue, when those customs appear:
154 GLAUCUS ; OR,

but that as to what connects cause and effect, as to
what is the reason, the final cause, or even the causa
causans, of any phenomenon, we know not more
but less than ever; for those laws or customs which
seem to us simplest (“endosmose,” for instance, or
“ oravitation ”), are just the most inexplicable, logi-
cally unexpected, seemingly arbitrary, certainly
supernatural—miraculous, if you will; for no natural
and physical cause whatsoever can be assigned for
them; while if anyone shall argue against their
being miraculous and supernatural on the ground of
their being so common, I can only answer, that of all
absurd and illogical arguments, this is the most so.
For what has the number of times which the miracle
occurs to do with the question, save to increase the
wonder? Which is more ‘strange, that an inexpli-
cable and unfathomable thing should occur once and
for all, or that it should occur a million times every
day all the world over?

Let those, however, who are too proud to wonder,
do as seems good to them. Their want of wonder

will not help them toward the required explanation ;
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 155

and to them, as to us, as soon as we begin asking
“« How?” and “ Why?” the mighty Mother will only
reply with that magnificent smile of hers, most
genial, but most silent, which she has worn since
the foundation of all worlds; that silent smile which
has tempted many a man to suspect her of irony,
even of deceit and hatred of the human race; the
silent smile which Solomon felt, and answered in
“ Ecclesiastes ;” which Goethe felt, and did not
answer in his “ Faust ;” which Pascal felt, and tried
to answer in his “ Thoughts,” and fled from into self-
torture and superstition, terrified beyond his powers
of endurance, as he found out the true meaning of
St. John’s vision, and felt himself really standing on
that fragile and slippery “sea of glass,” and close
beneath him the bottomless abyss of doubt, and the
nether fires of moral retribution. He fled from
Nature’s silent smile, as that poor old King Edward
(mis-called the Confessor) fled from her hymns of
praise, in the old legend of Havering-atte-bower,
when he cursed the nightingales because their songs

confused him in his prayers: but the wise man need
156 GLAUCUS; OR,

copy neither, and fear neither the silence nor the
laughter of the mighty mother Earth, if he will be
but wise, and hear her tell him, alike in both—
“Why call me mother? Why ask me for knowledge
which I cannot teach, peace which I cannot give or
take away? Iam only your foster-mother and your
nurse—and I have not been an unkindly one. But
you are God’s children, and not mine. Ask Him.
I can amuse you with my songs; but they are but
a nurse’s lullaby to the weary flesh. I can awe you
with my silence; but my silence is only my just
humility, and your gain. How dare I pretend to
"tell you secrets which He who made me knows
alone? I am but inanimate matter; why ask of
me things which belong to living spirit? In God
I live and move, and have my being; I know not
how, any more than you know. Who will tell
you what life is, save He who is the Lord of life?
And if He will not tell you, be sure it is because
you need not to know. At least, why seek God
in nature, the living among the dead? He is not

here: He is risen.”
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 157

He is not here: He is risen. Good reader, you
will probably agree that to know that saying, is to
know the key-note of the world to come. Believe
me, to know it, and all it means, is to know the key-
note of this world also, from the fall of dynasties and
the fate of nations, to the sea-weed which rots upon
the beach.

It may seem startling, possibly (though I hope
not, for my readers’ sake, irreverent), to go back at
once after such thoughts, be they true or false, to
the weeds upon the cliff above our heads. But He
who is not here, but is risen, yet is here, and has
appointed them their services in a wonderful order ;
and I wish that on some day, or on many days, when
a quiet sea and offshore breezes have prevented any
new objects from coming to land with the rising tide,
you would investigate the flowers peculiar to our sea-
rocks and sandhills. Even if you do not find the
delicate lily-like Trichonema of the Channel Islands
and Dawlish, or the almost as beautiful Squill of
the Cornish cliffs, or the sea-lavender of North

Devon, or any of those rare Mediterranean species
158 : GLAUCUS ; OR,

which Mr. Johns has so charmingly described in his
“Week at the Lizard Point,’ yet an average cliff,
with its carpeting of pink thrift and of bladder
catchfly, and Lady’s finger, and elegant grasses, most
of them peculiar to the sea marge, is often a very
lovely flower-bed.

Not merely interesting, too, but brilliant in their
vegetation are sandhills ; and the seemingly desolate
dykes and banks of salt marshes will yield many a
curious plant, which you may neglect if you will:
but Jay to your account the having to repent your
neglect hereafter, when, finding out too late what
a pleasant study botany is, you search in vain for
curious forms over which you trod every day in
crossing flats which seemed to you utterly ugly and
uninteresting, but which the good God was watching
as carefully as He did the pleasant hills inland:
perhaps even more carefully ; forthe uplands He has
completed, and handed over to man, that he may
dress and keep them: but the tide-flats below are
still unfinished, dry land in the process of creation,

to which every tide is adding the elements of fertility,
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 159

which shall grow food, perhaps in some future state
of our planet, for generations yet unborn.

But to return to the water-world, and to dredging ;
which of all sea-side pursuits is perhaps the most
pleasant, combining as it does fine weather sailing
with the discovery of new objects, to which, after all,
the waifs and strays of the beach, whether “ flotsom,
jetsom, or lagand,” as the old Admiralty laws define
them, are few and poor. I say particularly fine
weather sailing ; for a swell, which makes the dredge
leap along the bottom, instead of scraping steadily, is
as fatal to sport as it is to some people’s comfort.
But dredging, if you use a pleasure boat and the
small naturalist’s dredge, is an amusement in whick
ladies, if they will, may share, and which will in-
crease, and not interfere with, the amusements of a
water-party.

The naturalist’s dredge, of which Mr. Gosse’s
“ Aquarium ” gives a detailed account, should differ
from the common oyster dredge in being smaller ;
certainly not more than four feet across the mouth ;

and instead of having but one iron scraping-lip like
160 GLAUCUS ; OR,

the oyster dredge, it should have two, one above and
one below, so that it will work equally well on
whichsoever side it falls, or how often soever it may
be turned over by rough ground. The bag-net should
be of strong spunyarn, or (still better) of hide “such
as those hides of the wild cattle of the Pampas,
which the tobacconists receive from South America,”
cut into thongs, and netted close. It should be
loosely laced together with a thong at the tail edge
in order to be opened easily, when brought on board,
without canting the net over, and pouring the con-
tents roughly out through the mouth. The dragging-
rope should be strong, and at least three times as
long as the perpendicular depth of the water in which
you are working ; if, indeed, there is much breeze, or
any swell at all, still more line should be veered out.
The inboard end should be made fast somewhere
in the stern sheets, the dredge hove to windward,
the boat put before the wind; and you may then
amuse yourself as you will for the next quarter of
an hour, provided that you have got ready various

wide-mouthed bottles for the more delicate monsters,
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 161

and a couple of buckets, to receive the large lumps
of oysters and serpule which you will probably bring
to the surface.

As for a dredging ground, one may be found, I
suppose, off every watering-place. The most fertile
spots are in rough ground, in not less than five
fathoms water. The deeper the water, the rarer and
more interesting will the animals generally be: but
a greater depth than fifteen fathoms is not easily
reached on this side of Plymouth; and, on the
whole, the beginner will find enough in seven or
eight fathoms to stock an aquarium rivalling any
of those in the “Tank-house” at the Zoological
Gardens.

In general, the south coast of England, to the
eastward of Portland, affords bad dredging ground.
The friable cliffs, of comparatively recent formations,
keep the sea shallow, and the bottom smooth and
bare, by the vast deposits of sand and gravel. Yet
round the Isle of Wight, especially at the back of
the Needles, there ought to be fertile spots; and
Weymouth, according to Mr. Gosse and other well-

M
162 GLAUCUS ; OR,

known naturalists, is a very garden of Nereus, Tor-
bay, as may well be supposed, is an admirable
dredging spot; perhaps its two best points are round
the isolated Thatcher and Oare-rock, and from the
mouth of Brixham harbour to Berry Head; along
which last line, for perhaps three hundred years, the
decks of all Brixham trawlers have been washed
down ere running into harbour, and the sea-bottom
thus stored with treasures scraped up from deeper
water in every direction for miles and miles.
Hastings is, I fear, but a poor spot for dredging.
Its friable cliffs and strong tides produce a change-
able and barren sea-floor. Yet the immense quan-
tities of Flustra thrown up after a storm indicate
dredging ground at no great distance outside; its
rocks, uninteresting as they are compared with our
Devonians, have yielded to the industry and science
of M. Tumanowicz a vast number of sea-weeds and
sponges. Those three curious polypes, Valkeria
cuscuta (Plate I. fig. 4), Notamia Bursaria, and
Serialaria Lendigera, abound within tide-marks ; and

as the place is so much visited by Londoners, it may
SYNGNATHUS LUMBRICIFORMIS.

SAXICAVA

RUGOSA

9

Za.

2.

Shell

NASSA

of SAXICAVA RUGOSA,

RETICULATA.

Plate Il.


THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 163

be worth while to give a few hints as to what might
be done, by anyone whose curiosity has been excited
by the salt-water tanks of the Zoological Gardens
and the Crystal Palace.

An hour or two’s dredging round the rocks to the
eastward, would probably yield many delicate and
brilliant little fishes; Gobies, brilliant Labri, blue,
yellow, and orange, with tiny rabbit mouths, and
powerful protruding teeth ; pipe fishes (Syngnathi)*
with strange snipe-bills (which they cannot open)
and snake-like bodies; small cuttle-fish (Sepiole) of
a white jelly mottled with brilliant metallic hues,
with a ring of suckered arms round their tiny
parrots’ beaks, who, put into a jar, will hover and
dart in the water, as the skylark does in air, by
rapid winnowings of their glassy side-fins, while they
watch you with bright lizard-eyes ; the whole animal
being a combination of the vertebrate and the
mollusc, so utterly fantastic and abnormal, that (had
not the family been amongst the commonest, from
the earliest geological epochs) it would have seemed,

1 Plate XI. fig. 1.
M 2
164 GLAUCUS ; OR,

to man’s deductive intellect, a form almost as impos-
sible as the mermaid, far more impossible than the
sea-serpent. These, and perhaps a few handsome
sea-slugs and bivalve shells, you will be pretty sure
to find: perhaps a great deal more.

Meanwhile, without dredging, you may find a good
deal on the shore. In the spring Doris bilineata
comes to the rocks in thousands, to lay its strange
white furbelows of spawn upon their overhanging
edges. Folides of extraordinary beauty haunt the
same spots. The great Eolis papillosa, of a delicate
French grey; Eolis pellucida (%) (Plate X. fig. 2), in
which each papilla on the back is beautifully coloured
with a streak of pink, and tipped with iron blue; and
a most fantastical yellow little creature, so covered
with plumes and tentacles that the body is invisible,
“which I believe to be the Idalia aspersa of Alder
-and Hancock.

‘At the bottom of the rock pools, behind St. Leo-
nard’s baths, may be found hundreds of the Snipe’s
feather Anemone (Sagartia troglodytes), of every

hue; from the common brown and grey snipe’s


THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 165

feather kind, to the white-horned Hesperus, the
orange-horned Aurora, and a rich lilac and crimson
variety, which does not seem to agree with either the
Lilacinia or Rubicunda of Gosse. A more beautiful
living bouquet could hardly be seen, than might be
made of the varieties of this single species, from this
one place.

On the outside sands between the end of the
Marina and the Martello tower, you may find, at
very low tides, great numbers of a sand-tube, about
three inches long, standing up out of the sand. I do
not mean the tubes of the Terebella, so common in
all sands, which are somewhat flexible, and have
their upper end fringed with a ragged ring of sandy
_ arms: those I speak of are straight and stiff, and _
ending in a point upward. Draw them out of the
sand—they will offer some resistance—and put them
into a vase of water ; you will see the worm inside
expand two delicate golden combs, just like old-
fashioned back-hair combs, of a metallic lustre,
which will astonish you. With these combs the

worm seems to burrow head downward into the
166 GLAUCUS ; OR,

sand ; but whether he always remains in that atti-
tude I cannot say. His name is Pectinaria Belgica.
He is an Annelid, or true worm, connected with the
Serpule and Sabelle of which I have spoken
already, and holds himself in his ease like them, by
hooks and bristles set on each ring of his body. In
confinement he will probably come out of his case
and die; when you may dissect him at your leisure,
and learn a great deal more about him thereby than
(I am sorry to say) I know.

But if you have courage to run out fifteen or
twenty miles to the Diamond, you may find really
rare and valuable animals. There is a risk, of course,
of being blown over to the coast of France, by a
change of wind ; there is a risk also of not being able
to land at night on the inhospitable Hastings beach,
and of sleeping, as best you can, on board: but in
the long days and settled fine weather of summer,
the trip, in a stout boat, ought to be a safe and a
pleasant one.

On the Diamond you will find many, or most of

those gay creatures which attract your eye in the
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 167

central row of tanks at the Zoological Gardens : great
twisted masses of Serpule,! those white tubes of
stone, from the mouth of which protrude pairs of
rose-coloured or orange fans, flashing in, quick as
light, the moment that your finger approaches them
or your shadow crosses the water. .

You will dredge, too, the twelve-rayed sun-star
(Solaster papposa), with his rich scarlet armour; and
more strange, and quite as beautiful, the bird’s foot
star (Palmipes membranaceus), which you may see
crawling by its thousand sucking-feet in the Crystal
Palace tanks, a pentagonal webbed bird’s foot, of
scarlet and orange shagreen. With him, most pro-
bably, will be a specimen of the great purple
heart-urchin (Spatangus purpureus), clothed in pale
lilac horny spines, and other Echinoderms, for which
you must consult Forbes’s “ British Star-fishes :”
but perhaps the species among them which will
interest you most, will be the common brittle-star
(Ophiocoma rosula), of which a hundred or so, I can
promise, shall come up at a single haul of the dredge,

1 Plate X. fig. 1.
168 GLAUCUS; OR,

entwining their long spine-clad arms in a seemingly
inextricable confusion of “kaleidoscope” patterns
(thanks to Mr. Gosse for the one right epithet), purple
and azure, fawn, brown, green, grey, white and crim-
son; as if a whole bed of China-asters should have
first come to life, and then gone mad, and fallen to
fighting. But pick out, one by one, specimens from
the tangled mass, and you will agree that no China-
aster is so fair as this living stone-flower of the deep,
with its daisy-like.disc, and fine long prickly arms,
which never cease their graceful serpentine motion, and
its colours hardly alike in any two specimens. Handle
them not, meanwhile, too roughly, lest, whether in
modesty or in anger, they begin a desperate course
of gradual suicide, and, breaking off arm after arm
piecemeal, fling them indignantly at their tormentor.
Along with these you will certainly obtain a few of
that fine bivalve, the great Scallop, which you have
seen lying on every fishmonger’s counter in Hastings.
Of these you must pick out those which seem dirtiest
and most overgrown with parasites, and place them

carefully in a jar of salt water, where they may not


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THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 169

be rubbed ; for they are worth your examination, not
merely for the sake of that ring of gem-like eyes
which borders their “ cloak,” lying along the extreme
out edge of the shell as the valves are half open, but
for the sake of the parasites outside: corallines of
exquisite delicacy, Plumularie and Sertularic, dead
men’s hands (Alcyonia), lumps of white or orange
jelly, which will protrude a thousand star-like polypes,
and the Tubularia indivisa, twisted tubes of fine
straw, which ought already to have puzzled you; for
- you may pick them up in considerable masses on the
_ Hastings beach after a south-west gale, and think
long over them before you determine whether the
oat-like stems and spongy roots ‘belong to an animal
ora vegetable. Animals they are, nevertheless, though
even now you will hardly lisse the fact, when you
see at the mouth of each tube a little scarlet flower,
connected with the pink pulp which fills the tube.
For a further description of this largest and hand-
somest of our Hydroid Polypes, I must refer you to
Johnston, or, failing him, to Landsborough ; and go

on, to beg you not to despise those pink, or grey, or
170 * GLAUCUS ; OR,

white lumps of jelly, which will expand in salt water
into exquisite sea-anemones, of quite different forms
from any which we have found along the rocks. One
of them will certainly be the Dianthus,’ which will
open into a furbelowed flower, furred with innumer-
able delicate tentacula; and in the centre a mouth
of the most delicate orange, the size of the whole
animal being perhaps eight inches high and five
across. Perhaps it will be of a satiny grey, perhaps
pale rose, perhaps pure white ; whatever its colour, it
is the very maiden queen of all the beautiful tribe,
and one of the loveliest gems with which it has
pleased God to bedeck this lower world.

These and much more you will find on the scal-
lops, or even more plentifully on any lump of ancient
oysters; and if you do not dredge, it would be well
worth your while to make interest with the fish-
monger for a few oyster lumps, put into water the
moment they are taken out of the trawl. Divide
‘them carefully, clear out the oysters with a knife,
and put the shells into your aquarium, and you will

1 There are very fine specimens in the Crystal Palace.


THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE, 171

find that an oyster at home is a very different thing
from an oyster on a stall.

You ought, besides, to dredge many handsome
species of shells, which you would never pick up
along the beach ; and if you are conchologizing in
earnest, you must not forget to bring home a tin box
of shell sand, to be washed and picked over in a dish
at your leisure, or forget either to wash through a
fine sieve, over the boat’s side, any sludge and ooze
which the dredge brings up. Many—I may say,
hundreds—rare and new shells are found in this
way, and in no other.

But if you cannot afford the expense of your own
dredge and boat, and the time and trouble necessary to
follow the occupation scientifically, yet every trawler
and oyster-boat will afford you a tolerable satisfac-
tion. Goon board one of these ; and while the trawl
is down, spend a pleasant hour or two in talking with
the simple, honest, sturdy fellows who work it, from
whom (if you are as fortunate as I have been for
many a year past) you may get many a moving story

of danger and sorrow, as well as many a shrewd
172 GLAUCUS ; OR,

practical maxim, and often, too, a living recognition
of God, and the providence of God, which will send
you home, perhaps, a wiser and more genial man.
And when the trawl is hauled, wait till the fish are
counted out, and packed away, and then kneel down
and inspect (in a pair of Mackintosh leggings, and
your oldest coat) the crawling heap of shells and
zoophytes which remains behind about the decks,
and you will find, if a landsman, enough to occupy
you for a week to come. Nay, even if it be too calm
for trawling, condescend to go out in a dingy, and
help to haul some honest fellow’s deep-sea lines and
lobster-pots, and you will find more and stranger
things about them than even fish or lobsters: though
they, to him who has eyes to see, are strange enough.

I speak from experience ; for it was not so very long
ago that, in the north of Devon, I found sermons, not
indeed in stones, but in a creature reputed among the
most worthless of sea-vermin. I had been lounging
about all the morning on the little pier, waiting, with
the rest of the village, for a trawling breeze which

would not come. Two o’clock was past, and still the


THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. — 173

red mainsails of the skiffs hung motionless, and their

images quivered head downwards in the glassy swell,

‘As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean.”

It was neap-tide, too, and therefore nothing could
be done among the rocks. So, in despair, finding an
old coast-guard friend starting for his lobster-pots, I
determined to save the old man’s arms, by rowing
him up the shore; and then paddled homeward

again, under the high green northern wall, five hun-

‘dred feet of cliff furred to the water’s edge with rich

oak woods, against whose base the smooth Atlantic
swell died whispering, as if curling itself up to sleep
at last within that sheltered nook, tired with its
weary wanderings. The sun sank lower and lower
behind the deer-park point ; the white stair of houses
up the glen was wrapped every moment deeper and
deeper in hazy smoke and shade, as the light faded ;
the evening fires were lighted one by one; the soft
murmur of the waterfall, and the pleasant laugh of
children, and the splash of homeward oars, came

clearer and clearer to the ear at every stroke: and as
174 GLAUCUS; OR,

we rowed on, arose the recollection of many a brave
and wise friend, whose lot was cast in no such
western paradise, but rather in the infernos of this
sinful earth, toiling even then amid the festering
alleys of Bermondsey and Bethnal Green, to palliate
death and misery which they had vainly laboured to
prevent, watching the strides of that very cholera
which they had been striving for years to ward off,
now re-admitted in spite of all their warnings, by the
carelessness, and laziness, and greed of sinful man.
And as I thought over the whole hapless question of
sanitary reform, proved long since a moral duty to
God and man, possible, easy, even pecuniarily profit-
able, and yet left undone, there seemed a sublime
irony, most humbling to man, in some of Nature’s
processes, and in the silent and unobtrusive perfec-
tion with which she has been taught to anticipate,
since the foundation of the world, some of the loftiest
discoveries of modern science, of which we are too
apt to boast as if we had created the method by dis-
covering its possibility. Created it? Alas for the

pride of human genius, and the autotheism which


THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 175

would make man the measure of all things, and the
centre of the universe! All the invaluable laws and
methods of sanitary reform at best are but clumsy
imitations of the unseen wonders which every ani-
malcule and leaf have been working since the world’s
foundation ; with this slight difference between them
and us, that they fulfil their appointed task, and we
do not.

The sickly geranium which spreads its blanched
leaves against the cellar panes, and peers up, as if
imploringly, to the narrow slip of sunlight at the top
of the narrow alley, had it a voice, could tell more
truly than ever a doctor in the town, why little
Bessy sickened of the scarlatina, and little Johnny
of the hooping-cough, till the toddling wee things
who used to pet and water it were carried off each
and all of them one by one to the churchyard sleep,
while the father and mother sat at home, trying to
supply by gin that very vital energy which fresh air
and pure water, and the balmy breath of woods and
heaths, were made by God to give; and how the

little geranium did its best, like a heaven-sent angel,
176 GLAUCUS ; OR,

to right the wrong which man’s ignorance had
begotten, and drank in, day by day, the poisoned
atmosphere, and formed it into fair green leaves, and
breathed into the children’s faces from every pore, .
whenever they bent over it, the life-giving oxygen
for which their dulled blood and festered lungs were
craving in vain; fulfilling God’s will itself, though
man would not, too careless or too covetous to see,
after thousands of years of boasted progress, why
God had covered the earth with grass, herb, and
tree, a living and life-giving garment of perpetual
health and youth.

It is too sad to think long about, lest we become
very Heraclituses. Let us take the other side of the
matter with Democritus, try to laugh man out of
a little of his boastful ignorance and self-satisfied
clumsiness, and tell him, that if the House of Com-
mons would but summon one of the little Paramecia
from any Thames’ sewer-mouth, to give his evidence
before their next Cholera Committee, sanitary blue-
books, invaluable as they are, would be superseded

for ever and a day; and sanitary reformers would no
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 177

longer have to confess, that they know of no means
of stopping the smells which in past hot summers
drove the members out of the House, and the judges
out of Westminster Hall.

Nay, in the boat at the minute of which I have
been speaking, silent and neglected, sat a fellow-
passenger, who was a greater adept at removing
nuisances than the whole Board of Health put
together; and who had done his work, too, with a
cheapness unparalleled ; for all his good deeds had
not as yet cost the State one penny. True, he lived
by his business; so do other inspectors of nuisances:
but Nature, instead of paying Maia Squinado,
Esquire, some five hundred pounds sterling per
annum for his labour, had, contrived, with a sublime
simplicity of economy which Mr. Hume might have
envied and admired afar off, to make him do his
work gratis, by giving him the nuisances as his per-
quisites, and teaching him how to eat them. Cer-
tainly (without going the length of the Caribs, who
upheld cannibalism because, they said, it made war
cheap, and precluded entirely the need of a commis-

N
178 GLAUCUS ; OR,

sariat), this cardinal virtue of cheapness ought to
make Squinado an interesting object in the eyes of
the present generation; especially as he was at that
moment a true sanitary martyr, having, like many
of his human fellow-workers, got into a fearful
scrape by meddling with those existing interests,
and “vested rights which are but vested wrongs,”
which have proved fatal already to more than one
Board of Health. For last night, as he was sitting
quietly under a stone in four fathoms water, he
became aware (whether by sight, smell, or that
mysterious sixth sense, to us unknown, which seems
to reside in his delicate feelers) of a palpable
nuisance somewhere in the neighbourhood; and, like
a trusty servant of the public, turned out of his bed
instantly and went in search; till he discovered,
hanging among what he judged to be the stems of
ore-weed (Laminaria), three or four large pieces of
stale thornback, of most evil savour, and highly pre-
judicial to the purity of the sea, and the health of
the neighbouring herrings. Happy Squinado! He

needed not to discover the limits of his authority, to


THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 179

consult any lengthy Nuisances’ Removal Act, with
its clauses, and counter-clauses, and explanations
of interpretations, and interpretations of explana-
tions. Nature, who can afford to be arbitrary,
because she is perfect, and to give her servants
irresponsible powers, because she has trained them
to their work, had bestowed on him and on his
forefathers, as general health inspectors, those very
summary powers of entrance and removal in the
watery realms for which common sense, public
opinion, and private philanthropy are still entreatiny
vainly in the terrestrial realms; so finding a hole, in
he went, and began to remove the nuisance, without
“waiting twenty-four hours,” “laying an informa-
tion,” “serving a notice,” or any other vain delay.
The evil was there,—and there it should not stay ;
so having neither cart nor barrow, he just began
putting it into his stomach, and in the meanwhil«
set his assistants to work likewise. For suppose not,
gentle reader, that Squinado went alone; in his train
were more than a hundred thousand as good as hie,
each in his office, and as cheaply paid; who necded
N 2
180 GLAUCUS; OR,

no cumbrous baggage train of force-pumps, hose,
chloride of lime packets, whitewash, pails or brushes,
but were every man his own instrument; and, to
save expense of transit, just grew on Squinado’s
back. Do you doubt the assertion? Then lift him
up hither, and putting him gently into that shallow _
jar of salt water, look at him through the hand-
magnifier, and see how Nature is maxima in
minimis,

There he sits, twiddling his feelers (a substitute,
it seems, with crustacea for biting their nails when
they are puzzled), and by no means lovely to look
on in vulgar eyes ;—about the bigness of a man’s
fist; a round-bodied, spindle-shanked, crusty, prickly,
dirty fellow, with a villanous squint, too, in those
little bony eyes, which never look for a moment both
the same way. Never mind: many a man of genius
is ungainly enough; and Nature, if you will observe,
as if to make up to him for his uncomeliness, has
arrayed him as Solomon in all his glory never
was arrayed, and so fulfilled one of the proposals

of old Fourier—that scavengers, chimney-sweeps,




THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 181

and other workers in disgusting employments,
should be rewarded for their self-sacrifice in behalf
of the public weal by some peculiar badge of
honour, or laurel crown. ‘Not that his crown, like
those of the old Greek games, is a mere useless
‘badge; on the contrary, his robe of state is composed
of his fellow-servants. His whole back is covered
with a little grey forest of branching hairs, fine as a
spider’s web, each branchlet carrying its little pearly
ringed club, each club its rose-coloured polype, like
(to quote Mr. Gosse’s comparison) the unexpanded
buds of the acacia.?

‘On that leg grows, amid another copse of the
grey polypes, a delicate straw-coloured Sertularia,
branch on branch of tiny double combs, each tooth
of the comb being a tube containing a living flower ;
on another leg another Sertularia, coarser, but still
beautiful; and round it again has trained itself,
parasitic on the parasite, plant upon plant of glass
ivy, bearing crystal bells,” each of which, too, pro-
trudes its living flower ; on another leg is a fresh

1 Coryne ramosa. ? Campanularia integra.
182 GLAUCUS; OR,

species, like a little heather-bush of whitest ivory,
and every needle leaf a polype cell—let us stop
before the imagination grows dizzy with the con-
templation of those myriads of beautiful atomies.
And what is their use? Each living flower, each
polype mouth is feeding fast, sweeping into itself, by
the perpetual currents caused by the delicate fringes
upon its rays (so minute these last, that their motion
only betrays their presence), each tiniest atom of
decaying matter in the surrounding water, to convert
it, by some wondrous alchemy, into fresh cells and
buds, and either build up a fresh branch in their
thousand-tenanted tree, or form an egg-cell, from
whence when ripe may issue, not a fixed zoophyte,
but a free swimming animal.

And in the meanwhile, among this animal forest
erows a vegetable one of delicatest sea-weeds, green
and brown and crimson, whose office is, by their
everlasting breath, to reoxygenate the impure water,
and render it fit once more to be breathed by the
higher animals who swim or creep around.

1 Crisidia Eburnea.


Te ee ee ty ee ee ee

*

ow



THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE, 183

Mystery of mysteries! Let us jest no more,—
Heaven forgive us if we have jested too much on so
simple a matter as that poor spider-crab, taken out
of the lobster-pots, and left to die at the bottom of
the boat, because his more aristocratic cousins of
the blue and purple armour will not enter the trap
while he is within.

I am not aware whether the surmise, that these
tiny zoophytes help to purify the water by exhaling
oxygen gas, has yet been verified. The infusorial
animalcules do so, reversing the functions of animal
life, and instead of evolving carbonic acid gas, as
other animals do, evolve pure oxygen. So, at least,
‘says Liebig, who states that he found a small piece
‘into a flame on being immersed in the bubbles given
out by these living atomies.

I myself should be inclined to doubt that this
is the case with zoophytes, having found water in
which they were growing (unless, of course, sea-
weeds were present) to be peculiarly ready to become
foul; but it is difficult to say whether this is owing
184 GLAUCUS ; OR,

to their deoxygenating the water while alive, like
other animals, or to the fact that it is very rare to
get a specimen of zoophyte in which a large number
of the polypes have not been killed in the transit
home, or at least so far’ knocked about, that (in the
Anthozoa, which are far the most abundant) the
polype—or rather living mouth, for it is little more
—is thrown off to decay, pending the growth of a
fresh one in the same cell.

But all the sea-weeds, in common with other
vegetables, perform this function continually, and
thus maintain the water in which they grow in a
state fit to support animal life.

This fact—first advanced by Priestley and Ingen-
housz, and though doubted by the great Ellis, satis-
factorily ascertained by Professor Daubeny, Mr.
Ward, Dr. Johnston, and Mr. Warrington—gives an
answer to the question, which I hope has ere now
arisen in the minds of some of my readers,—

How is it possible to see these wonders at home?
Beautiful and instructive as they may be, can they

be meant for any but dwellers by the. sea-side 2


THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 185

Nay more, even to them, must not the glories of
the water-world be always more momentary than
those of the rainbow, a mere Fata Morgana which
breaks up and vanishes before the eyes? If there
were but some method of making a miniature sea-
world: for a few days; much more of keeping one
with us when far inland.—

This desideratum has at last been filled up; and
science has shown, as usual, that by simply obeying
Nature, we may conquer her, even so far as to have
our miniature sea, of artificial salt-water, filled with
living plants and sea-weeds, maintaining each other
in perfect health, and each following, as far as is
possible in a confined space, its natural habits.

To Dr. Johnston is due, as far as is known,
the honour of the first accomplishment of this as
of a hundred other zoological triumphs. As early
as 1842, he proved to himself the vegetable nature
of the common pink Coralline, which fringes
every rock-pool, by keeping it for eight weeks in
unchanged salt-water, without any putrefaction

ensuing. The ground, of course, on which the
186 GLAUCUS ; OR,

procf rested in this case was, that if the coralline
were. as had often been thought, a zoophyte, the
water would become corrupt, and poisonous to the
life of the small animals in the same jar; and that
its remaining fresh argued that the coralline had
re-oxygenated it from time to time, and was there-
fore a vegetable.

In 1850, Mr. Robert Warrington communicated
to the Chemical Society the results of a year’s
experiments, “On the Adjustment of the Relations
between the Animal and Vegetable Kingdoms, oy
which the Vital Functions of both are permanently
maintained.” The law which his experiments veri-
fied was the same as that on which Mr. Ward, in
1842, founded his invaluable proposal for increasing
the purity of the air in large towns, by planting
trees and cultivating flowers in rooms, that the
animal and vegetable respirations might counter-
balance each other ; the animal’s blood being purified
by the oxygen given off by the plants, the plants
fed by the carbonic acid breathed out by the

animals.




THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 187

On the same principle, Mr. Warrington first kept,
for many months, in a vase of unchanged water, two
small gold fish and a plant of Vallisneria spiralis ;
and two years afterwards began a similar experi-
ment with sea-water, weeds, and anemones, which
were, at last, as successful as the former ones. Mr.
Gosse had, in the meanwhile, with tolerable success
begun a similar method, unaware of what Mr.
Warrington had done; and now the beautiful
and curious exhibition of fresh and salt water
tanks in the Zoological Gardens in London, bids
fair to be copied in every similar institution, and
we hope in many private houses, throughout the
kingdom.

To this subject Mr. Gosse’s book, “The Aqua-
rium,” is principally devoted, though it contains,
besides, sketches of coast scenery, in his usual
charming style, and descriptions of rare sea-animals,
with wise and goodly reflections thereon. One great
object of interest in the book is the last chapter,
which treats fully of the making and stocking these

salt-water “Aquaria ;” and the various beautifully
188 GLAUCUS; OR,

coloured plates, which are, as it were, sketches from
the interior of tanks, are well fitted to excite the
desire of all readers to possess such gorgeous living
pictures, if as nothing else, still as drawing-room
ornaments, flower-gardens which never wither, fairy

lakes of perpetual calm which no storm blackens,—
odt’ év Opel, od’ év dmapn.

Those who have never seen one of them can never
imagine (and neither Mr. Gosse’s pencil nor my
clumsy words can ever describe to them) the gor-
geous colouring and the grace and delicacy of form
which these subaqueous landscapes exhibit.

As for colouring—the only bit of colour which
I can remember even faintly resembling them (for
though Correggio’s Magdalene may rival them in
greens and blues, yet even he has no such crimsons
and purples) is the Adoration of the Shepherds, by
that ‘‘prince of chlorists”—Palma Vecchio, which
hangs on the left-hand side of Lord Ellesmere’s
great gallery. But as for the forms,—where shall

we see their like? Where, amid miniature forests




THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 189

as fantastic as those of the tropics, animals whose
shapes outvie the wildest dreams of the old German
ghost painters which cover the walls of the galleries
of Brussels or Antwerp? And yet the uncouthest
has some quaint beauty of its own, while most—the
star-fishes and anemones, for example—are nothing
but beauty. The brilliant plates in Mr. Gosse’s
“ Aquarium ” give, after all, but a meagre picture of
the reality, as it may be seen in the tank-house
at the Zoological Gardens ; and as it may be seen
also, by anyone who will follow carefully the direc-
tions given at the end of his book, stock a glass
vase with such common things as he may find
in an hour’s search at low tide, and so have an
opportunity of seeing how truly Mr. Gosse says,
in his valuable preface, that—

“The habits” (and he might well have added, the
marvellous beauty) “of animals will never be tho- -
roughly known till they are observed in detail. Nor
is it sufficient to mark them with attention now and
then ; they must be closely watched, their various

actions carefully noted, their behaviour under dif-
190 GLAUCUS; OR,

ferent circumstances, and especially those movements
which seem to us mere vagaries, undirected by any
suggestible motive or cause, well examined. A rich
fruit of result, often new and curious and unex-
pected, will, I am sure, reward anyone who studies
living animals in this way. The most interesting
parts, by far, of published Natural History are those
minute, but graphic particulars, which have been
gathered up by an attentive watching of individual
animals.”

Mr. Gosse’s own books, certainly, give proof
enough of this. We need only direct the reader to
his exquisitely humorous account of the ways and
works of a captive soldier-crab,1 to show them how
much there is to be seen, and how full Nature is also
of that ludicrous element of which we spoke above.
And, indeed, it is in this form of Natural History :
not in mere classification, and the finding out of
means, and quarrellings as to the first discovery of
that beetle or this buttercup,—too common, alas!
among mere closet-collectors,—* endless genealogies,”

1 Aquarium, p. 163.




THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 191

to apply St. Paul’s words by no means irreverently

or fancifully, “ which do but gender strife ;’—not in

these pedantries is that moral training to be found,
for which we have been lauding the study of Natural

History: but in healthful walks and voyages out of

- doors, and in careful and patient watching of the
living animals and plants at home, with an observa-
tion sharpened by practice, and a temper calmed by
the continual practice of the naturalist’s first virtues
—patience and perseverance.

Practical directions for forming an “ Aquarium ”
may be found in Mr. Gosse’s book bearing that name,
at pp. 101, 255, e¢ seg.; and those who wish to carry
out the notion thoroughly, cannot do better than buy
his book, and take their choice of the many different
forms of vase, with rockwork, fountains, and other
pretty devices which he describes.

But the many, even if they have Mr. Gosse’s book,
will be rather inclined to begin with a small attempt ;
especially as they are probably half sceptical of the
possibility of keeping sea-animals inland without

changing the water. A few simple directions, there-
192 GLAUCUS ; OR,

fore, will not come amiss here. They shall be such
as anyone can put into practice, who goes down to
stay in a lodging-house at the most cockney of
watering-places.

Buy at any glass-shop a cylindrical glass jar, some
six inches in diameter and ten high, which will cost
you from three to four shillings; wash it clean, and
fill it with clean salt-water, dipped out of any pool
among the rocks, only looking first to see that there
is no dead fish or other evil matter in the said pool,
and that no stream from the land runs into it. If
you choose to take the trouble to dip up the water
over a boat’s side, so much thie better.

So much for your vase; now to stock it.

Go down at low spring-tide to the nearest ledge
of rocks, and with a hammer and chisel chip off a
few pieces of stone covered with growing sea-weed.
Avoid the common and coarser kinds (fuci) which
cover the surface of the rocks; for they give out
under water a slime which will foul your tank: but
choose the more delicate species which fringe the

edges of every pool at low-water mark ; the pink


THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 193

coralline, the dark purple ragged dulse (Rhodymenia),
the Carrageen moss (Chondrus), and above ail, the
commonest of all, the delicate green Ulva, which you
will see growing everywhere in wrinkled fan-shaped
sheets, as thin as the finest silver-paper. The smallest
bits of stone are sufficient, provided the sea-weeds
have hold of them; for they have no real roots, but
adhere by a small disc, deriving no nourishment
from the rock, but only from the water. Take care,
meanwhile, that there be as little as possible on the
stone, beside the weed itself. Especially scrape off
any small sponges, and see that no worms have made
their twining tubes of sand among the weed-stems ;
if they have, drag them out; for they will surely
die, and as surely spoil all by sulphuretted hydrogen,
blackness, and evil smells.

Put your weeds into your tank, and settle them at
the bottom; which last, some say, should be covered
with a layer of pebbles: but let the beginner leave it
as bare as possible ; for the pebbles only tempt cross-
grained annelids to crawl under them, die, and spoil
all by decaying: whereas if the bottom of the vase

QO
194 GLAUCUS ; OR,

is bare, you can see a sickly or dead inhabitant at
once, and take him out (which you must do) instantly.
Let your weeds stand quietly in the vase a day or
two before you put in any live animals; and even
then, do not put any in if the water does not appear
perfectly clear: but lift out the weeds, and renew the
water ere you replace them.

This is Mr. Gosse’s method. But Mr. Lloyd, in
his “Handbook to the Crystal Palace Aquarium,”
advises that no weed should be put into the tank.
“Jt is better,” he says, “to depend only on those
which gradually and naturally appear on the rocks
of the aquarium by the action of light, aad which
answer every chemical purpose.” I should advise
anyone intending to set up an aquarium, however
small, to study what Mr. Lloyd says on this matter
in pp. 17—19, and also in page 30, of his pamphlet; ~
and also to go to the Crystal Palace Aquarium, and
there see for himself the many beautiful species of
sea-weeds which have appeared spontaneously in the
tanks, from unsuspected spores floating in the sea-

water. On the other hand, Mr. Lloyd lays much




re

THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 195

stress on the necessity of aérating the water, by

~ keeping it in perpetual motion; a process not easy

to be carried out in small aquaria; at least to that
pertection which has been attained at the Crystal
Palace, where the water is kept in continual circula-
tion by steam-power. For a jar-aquarium, it will
be enough to drive fresh air through the water every
day, by means of a syringe.

Now for the live stock. In the crannies of .every

ock you will find sea-anemones (Actinic); and a

dozen of these only will be enough to convert your
little vase into the most brilliant of living flower-
gardens. There they hang upon the under side of
the ledges, apparently mere rounded lumps of jelly:
one is of dark purple dotted: with green; another of
a rich chocolate ; another of a delicate olive ; another
sienna-yellow ; another all but white. Take them
from their rock; you can do it easily by slipping
under them your finger-nail, or the edge of a pewter
spoon. Take care to tear the sucking base as little
as possible (though a small rent they will darn for
themselves in a few days, easily enough), and drop
02
196 GLAUCUS ; OR,

them into a basket of wet sea-weed; when you get
home turn them into a dish full of water and leave —
them for the night, and go to look at them to-morrow.
What a change! The dull lumps of jelly have taken
root and flowered during the night, and your dish is
filled from side to side with a bouquet of chrysanthe-
mums ; each has expanded into a hundred-petalled
flower, crimson, pink, purple, or orange; touch one,
and it shrinks together like a sensitive plant, dis-
playing at the root of the petals a ring of brilliant
turquoise beads. That is the commonest of all the
Actinize (Mesembryanthemum); you may have him
when and where you will: but if you will search
those rocks somewhat closer, you will find even more
gorgeous species than him. See in that pool some
dozen large ones, in full bloom, and quite six inches
across, some of them. If their cousins whom we
found just now were like Chrysanthemums, these are
like quilled Dahlias. Their arms are stouter and
shorter in proportion than those of the last species,
but their colour is equally brilliant. One is a bril-

liant blood-red ; another a delicate sea-blue striped




THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 197

with pink ; but most have the disc and the innumer-
able arms striped and ringed with various shades of
grey and brown. Shall we get them? By all means
if we can. Touch one. Where is he now? Gone?
Vanished into air, or into stone? Not quite. You
see that knot of sand and broken shell lying on
the rock, where your Dahlia was one moment ago.
Touch it, and you will find it leathery and elastic.
That is all which remains of the live Dahlia. Never
mind; get your finger into the crack under hin,
work him gently but firmly out, and take him home,
and he will be as happy and as gorgeous as ever
to-morrow.

Let your Actiniz stand for a day or two in the
dish, and then, picking out the liveliest and hand-
somest, detach them once more from their hold, drop
them into your vase, right them with a bit of stick,
so that the sucking base is downwards, and leave
them to themselves thenceforth. °

These two species (Mesembryanthemum and Cras-
sicornis) are quite beautiful enough to give a beginner

amusement: but there are two others which are
198 GLAUCUS ; OR,

not uncommon, and of such exceeding loveliness,
that it is worth while to take a little trouble to
get them. The oncis Dianthus, which I have already
mentioned ; the other Bellis, the sea-daisy, of which
there is an excellent description and plates in Mr.
Gosse’s “ Rambles in Devon,” pp. 24 to 32.

It is common at Ilfracombe, and at Torquay; and
indeed everywhere where there are cracks and small
holes in limestone or slate rock. In these holes it _
fixes its base, and expands its delicate brown-grey
star-like flowers on the surface: but it must be
chipped out with hammer and chisel, at the expense
of much dirt and patience; for the moment it is
touched it contracts deep into the rock, and all
that is left of the daisy flower, some two or three
inches across, is a blue knot of half the size of a
marble. But it will expand again, after a day
or two of captivity, and will repay all the trouble
which it has cost. Troglodytes may be found, as
I have said already, in hundreds at Hastings, in
similar situations to that of Bellis; its only token,

when the tide is down, being a round dimple









MP cee ee I ee aN Ee EST ATE NE Lee foe mT PE ae aM TE ee EMC TN Ney STM EME ER ee RCE eT Te LOFT

THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. ~ 199

in the muddy sand which fills the lower cracks of

rocks.

But you will want more than these anemones,
both for your own amusement, and for the health of
your tank. Microscopic animals will breed, and will
also die; and you need for them some such scavenger
as our poor friend Squinade, to whom you were
introduced a few pages back. Turn, then, a few
stones which lie piled on each other at extreme
low-water mark, and five minutes’ search will give
you the very animal you want,—a little crab, of a
dingy russet above, and on the under side like
smooth porcelain. His back is quite flat, and so are
his large angular fringed claws, which, when he folds

them up, lie in the same plane with his shell, and

fit neatly into its edges. Compact little rogue that

he is, made especially for sidling in and out of
cracks and crannies, he carries with him such an

apparatus of combs and brushes as Isidor or Floris

“never dreamed of; with which he sweeps out of

the sea-water at every moment shoals of minute

animalcules, and sucks them into his tiny mouth.
200 GLAUCUS; OR,

Mr. Gosse will tell you more. of this marvel, in -
his “ Aquarium,” p. 48. ,

Next, your sea-weeds, if they thrive as they ought
to do, will sow their minute spores in millions
around them ; and these, as they vegetate, will form ©
a green film on the inside of the glass, spoiling
your prospect: you may rub it off for yourself, if
you will, with a rag fastened to a stick ; but if you
wish at once to save yourself trouble, and to see
how all emergencies in nature are provided for,
you will set three or four live shells to do it for
you, and to keep your sub-aqueous lawn close
mown.

That last word is no figure of speech. Look
among the beds of sea-weed for a few of the bright
yellow or green sea-snails (Nerita), or Conical Tops
(Trochus), especially that beautiful pink one spotted
with brown (Ziziphinus), which you are sure to
find about shaded rock-ledges at dead low tide, and
put them into your aquarium. For the present,
they will only nibble the green ulve; but when

the film of young weed begins to form, you will


Plate &.



6. B Sowerby, & C.K, del.

1. LIrToRINA LITTOREA. see Plate 9,
a. opercum,
b. pallet.
. part of pallet, magnifica.
2. wasda” RETICULATA Se Date Th
“a, egg capsules.
b. cy fry:
a. shell “ot
e. pallet, magnified.

. ECHINUS MILIARTS.

PATELLA ‘VULGARIS.
a, palate, nat. size.
b.e, ditto. enlarged.





a. teeth & diges
b. suckers, enlarged.
c. spine & socket.
a, sbell denndea,
e. Pedicellaria.

See Plate 7.
anil.

0. NEMERTES BORLASII. See Plate 3.
a. head, enlarged.
b, head expariled, swallowing
a Terebella,

i bites cacesitilei




THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 201

see it mown off every morning as fast as it grows,
in little semicircular sweeps, just as if a fairy’s
scythe had been at work during the night.

And a scythe has been at work; none other than
the tongue of the little shell-fish; a description of

its extraordinary mechanism (too long to quote here,

‘but which is well worth reading) may be found in

Gosse’s “Aquarium.”!

A prawn or two, and a few minute star-fish, will
make your aquarium complete; though you may
add to it endlessly, as one glance at the salt-water
tanks of the Zoological Gardens, and the strange
and beautiful forms which they contain, will prove
to you sufficiently.

You have two more enemies to guard against;
dust, and heat. If the surface of the water becomes
clogged with dust, the communication ‘between it
and the life-giving oxygen of the air is cut off; and
then your animals are liable to die, for the very
same reason that fish die in a pond which is long
frozen over, unless a hole be broken in the ice to

1 P, 34. Figures of it are given in Plate VIII.
202 . GLAUCUS ; OR,

admit the air. You must guard against this by
occasional stirring of the surface, or, as I have
already said, by syringing and by keeping on a
cover. A piece of muslin tied over will do; but a
better defence is a plate of glass, raised on wire
some half-inch above the edge, so as to admit the
air. I am not sure that a sheet of brown paper
laid over the vase is not the best of all, because
that, by its shade, also guards against the next
evil, which is heat. Against that you must guard
by putting a curtain of muslin or oiled paper
between the vase and the sun, if it be very fierce,
or simply (for simple expedients are best) by laying
a handkerchief over it till the heat is past. But if
you leave your vase in a sunny window long enough
to let the water get tepid, all is over with your pets.
Half an hour’s boiling may frustrate the care of
weeks. And yet, on the other hand, light you must
have, and you can hardly have too much. Some
animals certainly prefer shade, and hide in the
darkest crannies; and for them, if your aquarium

is large enough, you must provide shade, by arrang-


THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 263



ing the bits of stone into piles and caverns. But
without light, your sea-weeds will neither thrive nor
keep the water sweet. With plenty of light you
will see, to quote Mr. Gosse once more, “thousands
of tiny globules forming on every plant, and even
“all over the stones, where the infant vegetation is
beginning to grow; and these globules presently
rise in rapid succession to the surface all over the
vessel, and this process goes on uninterruptedly as
long as the rays of the sun are uninterrupted.

“Now these globules consist of pure oxygen, given
out by the plants under the stimulus of light; and
to this oxygen the animals in the tank owe their
life. The difference between the profusion of
_ oxygen-bubbles produced on a sunny day, and the
paucity of those seen on a dark cloudy day, or in a
northern aspect, is very marked.” Choose, therefore,
a south.or east window, but draw down the blind,
_or throw a handkerchief over all if the heat become
fierce. The water should always feel cold to your

hand, let the temperature outside be what it may.

1 P, 259,
204 GLAUCUS; OR,

Next, you must make up for evaporation by fresh
water (a very little will suffice), as often as in sum-
mer you find the water in your vase sink below its
original level, and prevent the water from getting
too salt. For the salts, remember, do not evaporate
with the water; and if you left the vase in the sun
for a few weeks, it would become a mere brine-pan.

But how will you move your treasures up to town?

-The simplest plan which I have found successful
is an earthen jar. You may buy them with a cover
which screws on with two iron clasps. If you do
not find such, a piece of oilskin tied over the mouth
is enough. But do not fill the jar full of water ;
leave about a quarter of the contents in empty air,
which the water may absorb, and so keep itself fresh.
And any pieces of stone, or oysters, which you send
up, hang by a string from the mouth, that they may
not hurt tender animals by rolling about the bottom.
With these simple precautions, anything which you
‘are likely to find will well endure forty-eight hours
of travel.

What if the water fails, after all ?
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 205

Then Mr. Gosse’s artificial sea-water will form a
perfect substitute. You may buy the requisite salts
(for there are more salts than “salt” in sea-water)
from any chemist to whom Mr. Gosse has entrusted
his discovery, and, according to his directions, make
sea-water for yourself,

One more hint before we part. If after all, you
are not going down to the sea-side this year, and
have no opportunities of testing “the wonders of the
shore,” you may still study Natural History in your
own drawing-room, by looking a little into “the
wonders of the pond.”

I am not jesting; a fresh-water aquarium, though
by no means as beautiful as a salt-water one, is even
more easily established. A glass jar, floored with
two or three inches of pond-mud (which should be
covered with fine gravel to prevent the mud washing
up); a specimen of each of two water-plants which
you may buy now at any good shop in Covent
Garden, Vallisneria spiralis (which is said to give to
the Canvas-backed duck of America its peculiar

richness of flavour), and Anacharis alsinastrum, that
206 GLAUCUS ; OR,

magical weed which, lately introduced from Canada
among timber, has multiplied, self-sown, to so pro-
digious an extent, that it bid fair, a few years sinee,
to choke the navigation not only of our canals and
fen-rivers, but of the Thames itself:? or, in default
of these, some of “the more delicate pond-weeds ;
such as Callitriche, Potamogeton pusillum, and, best
of all, perhaps, the beautiful Water-Milfoil (Myrio-
phyllium), whose comb-like leaves are the haunts of
numberless rare and curious animalcules :—these (in

themselves, from the transparency of their circu-

lation, interesting microscopic objects) for oxygen-—

breeding vegetables; and for animals, the pickings
of any pond; a minnow or two, an eft; a few of the
delicate pond-snails (unless they devour your plants
too rapidly): water-beetles, of activity inconceivable,
and that wondrous bug the Notonecta, who les on

his back all day, rowing about his boat-shaped body,

1 But if any young lady, her aquarium having fuiled, shall (as
dozens do) cast out the same Anacharis into the nearest ditch, she
shall be followed to her grave by the maledictions of all millers
and trout-fishers.. Seriously, this is a wanton act of injury to the
neighbouring streams, which must be carefully guarded against.
As weil turn loose queen-wasps to build in your neighbour's banks.

~



4
.
:


THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 207














3 with one long pair of oars, in search of animalcules,
- andthe moment the lights are out, turns head over
heels, rights himself, and opening a pair of hand-
E some wings, starts to fly about the dark room in
E company with his friend the water-beetle, and (I
~ suspect) catch flies; and then slips back demurely
into the water with the first streak of dawn. But
. perhaps the most interesting of all the tribes of the
a Naiads,—(in default, of course, of those semi-human
- nymphs with which our Teutonic forefathers, like
the Greeks, peopled each “sacred fountain,”’)—are
_ the little “water-crickets,” which may be found
. running under the pebbles, or burrowing in little
. galleries in the banks: and those “caddises,” which
. crawl on the bottom in the stiller waters, enclosed,
3 all save the head and legs, in a tube of sand or
. pebbles, shells or sticks, green or dead weeds, often
: arranged with quaint symmetry, or of very graceful
. shape. Their aspect in this state may be somewhat
E uninviting, but they compensate for their youthful
3 ugliness by the strangeness of their transformations,

and often by the delicate beauty of the perfect
208 GLAUCUS ; OR,

insects, as the “caddises,” rising to the surface,
become flying Phryganexe (caperers and sand-flies),
generally of various shades of fawn-colour; and
the water-crickets (though an unscientific eye may
be able to discern but little difference in them in
the “larva,” or imperfect state) change into flies
of the most various. shapes ;—one, perhaps, into
the great sluggish olive “Stone-fly” (Perla bicau-
data); another into the delicate lemon-coloured
“Yellow Sally” (Chrysoperla viridis); another into
the dark chocolate “ Alder” (Sialis lutaria): and the
majority into duns and drakes (Ephemere) ; whose
grace of form, and delicacy of colour, give them a right
to rank among the most exquisite of God’s creations,
from the tiny “Spinners” (Baétis or Chloron) of in-
candescent glass, with gorgeous rainbow-coloured eyes,
to the great Green Drake (Ephémera vulgata), known
to all fishermen as the prince of trout-flies. These
animals, their habits, their miraculous transforma-
tions, might give many an hour’s quiet amusement
to an invalid, laid on a sofa, or imprisoned in a sick-

room, and debarred from reading, unless by some


THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 209

such means, any page of that great green book out-
side, whose pen is the finger of God, whose covers
are the fire kingdoms and the star kingdoms, and
its leaves the heather-bells, and the polypes of the
sea, and the gnats above the summer stream.

I said just now, that happy was the sportsman
who was also a naturalist. And, having once men-
tioned these curious water-flies, I cannot help going
a little farther, and saying, that lucky is the fisher-
man who is also a naturalist. A fair scientific
knowledge of the flies which he imitates, and of
their habits, would often ensure him sport, while
~ other men are going home with empty creels. One
would have fancied this a self-evident fact; yet I
have never found any sound knowledge of the
natural water-flies which haunt a given stream,
except among cunning old fishermen of the lower
class, who get their living by the gentle art, and
bring to“indoors baskets of trout killed on flies,
which look as if they had been tied with a pair of
tongs, so rough and ungainly are they; but which,
nevertheless, kill, simply because they are (in colour,

PB
210 GLAUCUS ; OR,

which is all that fish really care for) exact likenesses
of some obscure local species, which happen to lie
on the water at the time. Among gentlemen-fisher-
men, on the other hand, so deep is the ignorance of
the natural fly, that I have known good sportsmen
still under the delusion that the great green May-fly
comes out of a caddis-bait; the gentlemen having
never seen, much less fished with, that most deadly
bait the “ Water-cricket,” or free creeping larva of
the May-fly, which may be found in May under the
river-banks. The consequence of this ignorance is
that they depend for good patterns of flies on mere
chance and experiment; and that the shop patterns,
originally excellent, deteriorate continually, till little
or no likeness to their living prototype remains,
being tied by town girls, who have no more under-
standing of what the feathers and mohair in. their
hands represent than they: have of what the National
Debt represents. Hence follows many a failure at
the stream-side; because the “Caperer,” or “Dun,”
or “Yellow Sally,” which is produced from the fly-

book, though, possibly, like the brood which came out




THE WONDERS GF THE SHORE. 211

three years since on some stream a hundred miles
away, is quite unlike the brood which is out to-day
on one’s own river. For not only do most of these
flies vary in colour in different soils and climates,
but many of them change their hue during life;
the Ephemere, especially, have a habit of throwing
off the whole of their skins (even, marvellously
enough, to the skin of the eyes and wings, and the

6

delicate “whisks” at their tail), and appearing in
an utterly new garb after ten minutes’ rest, to the
discomfiture of the astonished angler.

The natural history of these flies, I understand
from Mr. Stainton (one of our most distinguished
entomologists), has not yet been worked out, at
least for England. The only attempt, I believe,
in that direction is one made by a charming book,
“The Fly-fisher’s Entomology,” which should be
in every good angler’s library; but why should not
a few fishermen combine to work out the subject
for themselves, and study for the interests both of
science and their own sport, “The Wonders of the

Bank?” The work, petty as it may seem, is much
P2
212 GLAUCUS ; OR,

too great for one man, so prodigal is Nature of -her
forms, in the stream as in the ocean; but what if a
correspondence were opened between a few fishermen
—of whom one should live, say, by the Hampshire
or Berkshire chalk streams; another on the slates
and granites of Devon; another on the limestones
of Yorkshire or Derbyshire ; another among the yet
earlier slates of Snowdonia, or some mountain part
of Wales; and more than one among the hills of
the Border and the lakes of the Highlands? Each
would find (I suspect), on comparing his insects with
those of the others, that he was exploring a little
pecutiar world of his own, and that with the excep-
tion of a certain number of typical forms, the flies
of his county’were unknown a hundred miles away,
or, at least, appeared there under great differences of
size and colour; and each, if he would take the
trouble to collect the caddises and water-crickets,
and breed them into the perfect fly in an aquarium,
would see marvels in their transformations, their °
instincts, their anatomy, quite as great (though not,

perhaps, as showy and startling) as I have been


THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 213

trying to point out on the sea-shore. Moreover, each
and every one of the party, I will warrant, will find
his fellow-correspondents (perhaps previously un-
known to him) men worth knowing; not, it may be,
of the meditative and half-saintly type of dear old
Izaak Walton (who, after all, was no fly-fisher, but
a sedentary “popjoy,” guilty of float and worm),
but rather, like his fly-fishing disciple Cotton, good
fellows and men of the world, and, perhaps, some-
thing better over and above.

The suggestion has been made. Will it ever be
taken up, and a “Naiad Club” formed, for the
combination of sport and science ?

And, now, how can this desultory little treatise
end more usefully than in recommending a few
books on Natural History, fit for the use of young
people; and fit to serve as introductions to such
deeper and larger works as Yarrell’s “Birds and
Fishes,” Bell’s “Quadrupeds” and “Crustacea,”
Forbes and Hanley’s “Mollusca,” Owen’s “ Fossil
Mammals and Birds,” and a host of other admirable

works? Not that this list will contain all the best;
214 GLAUCUS ; OR,

but simply the best of which the writer knows ; let,
therefore, none feel aggrieved, if, as it may chance,
opening these pages, they find their books omitted.
First and foremost, certainly, come Mr. Gosse’s
books. There is a playful and genial spirit in them, _
a brilliant power of word-painting combined with
deep and earnest religious feeling, which makes
them as morally valuable as they are intellectually
interesting. Since White’s “History of Selborne,”
few or no writers on Natural History, save Mr. Gosse,
Mr. G. H. Lewes, and poor Mr. E. Forbes, have had
the power of bringing out the human side of science,
and giving to seemingly dry disquisitions and ani-
mals of the lowest type, by little touches of pathos
and humour, that living and personal interest, to
bestow which is generally the special function of the
poet,: not that Waterton and Jesse are not excellent
in this respect, and authors who should be in every
boy’s library: but they are rather anecdotists than
systematic or scientific inquirers; while Mr. Gosse,’
in his “Naturalist on the Shores of Devon,” his

“Tour in Jamaica,” his “Tenby,” and his “ Canadian


THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 215

Naturalist,” has done for those three places what
White did for Selborne, with all the improved appli-
ances of a science which has widened and deepened
tenfold since White’s time. Mr. Gosse’s “ Manual
of the Marine Zoology of the British Isles” is, for
classification, by far the completest handbook extant.
He has contrived in it to compress more sound
knowledge of vast classes of the animal kingdom
than I ever saw before in so small a space.?

Miss Anne Pratt’s “Things of the Sea-coast” is
excellent; and still better is Professor Harvey’s
“ Sea-side Book,” of which it is impossible to speak
too highly ; and most pleasant it is to see a man of
genius and learning thus pathering the bloom of his
varied knowledge, to put it into a form equally
suited to a child and a savant. Seldom, perhaps,
has there been a little book in which so vast a
quantity of facts have been told so gracefully,

simply, without a taint of pedantry or cumbrousness

1 Very highly also, in interest, ranks M. Quatrefages’ ‘‘ Rambles
of a Naturalist” (about the Mediterranean and the French Coast),
translated by M. Otté.
216 GLAUCUS; OR,

—an excellence whith is the sure and only mark of
a perfect mastery of the subject. Mr. G. H. Lewes’s
“Sea-shore Studies” are also very valuable ; hardly
perhaps a book for beginners, but from his admirable
power of description, whether of animals or of
scenes, is interesting for all classes of readers.
Two little “Popular” Histories—one of British
Zoophytes, the other of British Sea-weeds, by Dr.
Landsborough (since dead of cholera, at Saltcoats,
the scene of his energetic and pious ministry)—are
very excellent; and are furnished, too, with well-
drawn and coloured plates, for the comfort of those
to whom a scientific nomenclature (as liable as any
other human thing to be faulty and obscure) conveys
but a vague conception of the objects. These may
serve well for the beginner, as introductions to Pro-
fessor Harvey’s large work on British Alge, and
to the new edition of Professor Johnston’s invalu-
able “British Zoophytes.” Miss Gifford’s “ Marine
dotanist,” third edition, and Dr, Cocks’s “Sea-weed
Collector’s Guide,” have also been recommended by

a high authority.
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 217

For general Zoology the best books for beginners
are, perhaps, as a general introduction, the Rev.
J. A. L. Wood’s “ Popular Zoology,” full of excellent
plates; and for systematic Taine Mr. Gosse’s
four little books, on Mammals, Birds, Reptiles, and
Fishes, published with many plates, by the Christian
Knowledge Society, at a marvellously cheap rate.
For miscroscopic animalcules, Miss Agnes Catlow’s
“Drops of Water” will teach the young more than
they will ever remember, and serve as a good in-
troduction to those teeming abysses of the unseen
world, which must be afterwards traversed under
the guidance of Hassall and ee

For Ornithology, there is no book, after all, like
dear old Bewick, passé though he may be in a
scientific point of view. There is a good little
British ornithology, too, published in Sir W.
Jardine’s “Naturalist’s Library,” and another by
Mr. Gosse. And Mr. Knox’s “Ornithological
Rambles in Sussex,” with Mr. St. John’s “ High-
land Sports,” and “Tour in Sutherlandshire,” are

the monographs of naturalists, gentlemen, and
218 GLAUCUS ; OR,

sportsmen, which remind one at every page (and
‘what higher praise can one give?) of White’s
“Wistory of Selborne’’ These last, with Mr.
Gosse’s “Canadian Naturalist,’ and his little book
“The Ocean,” not forgetting Darwin’s delichtful
“Voyage. of the Beagle and Adventure,” ought to
be in the hands of every lad who is likely to travel
to our colonies.

For general Geology, Professor Ansted’s Intro-
duction is excellent; while, as a specimen of the
way in which a single district may be thoroughly
worked out, and the universal method of induction
learnt from a narrow field of objects, what book can,
or perhaps ever will, compare with Mr. Hugh Miller’s
“Old Red Sandstone” ?

For this last reason, I especially recommend to the
young the Rev. C. A. Johns’s “ Week at the Lizard,”
as teaching a young person how mueh there is to be
seen and known within a few square miles of these
British Isles. But, indeed, all Mr. Johns’s books are
good (as they are bound to be, considering his

most accurate and varied knowledge), especially his
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 215

“Flowers of the Field,” the best cheap introduc-
tion to systematic botany which has yet appeared.
Trained, and all but self-trained, ike Mr. Hugh
Muller, in a remote and narrow field of observation,
Mr. Johns has developed himself into one of our
most acute and persevering botanists, and has added
many a new treasure to the Flora of these isles; and
one person, at least, owes him a deep debt of gra-
titude for first lessons in scientific accuracy and
patience,—lessons taught, not dully and dryly at the
book and desk, but livingly and genially, in adven-
turous rambles over the bleak cliffs and ferny woods

of the wild Atlantic shore,—

‘Where the old fable of the guarded mount
Looks toward Namancos and Bayona’s hold.”

Mr. Henfrey’s “Rudiments of Botany” might accom-
pany Mr. Johns’s books. Mr. Babington’s “ Manual
ef British Botany” is also most compact and highly
finished, and seems the best work which I know of
from which a student somewhat advanced in English
botany can verify species; while for ferns, Moore’s

“Handbook” is probably the best for beginners.
220 GLAUCUS ; OR,

For Entomology, which, after all, is the study
most fit for boys (as Botany is for girls) who have
no opportunity for visiting the sea-shore, Catlow’s
“Popular British Entomology,” having coloured
plates (a delight to young people), and saying some-
thing of all the orders, is, probably, still a good
work for beginners.

Mr. Stainton’s “Entomologist’s Annual for 1855”
contains valuable hints of that gentleman’s on taking
and arranging moths and butterflies; as well as of
Mr. Wollaston’s on performing the same kind office
for that far more numerous, and not less beautiful
class, the beetles. There is also an admirable
“Manual of British Butterflies and Moths,” by Mr.
Stainton, in course of publication; but, perhaps, the
most interesting of all entomological books which
I have seen (and for introducing me to which I
must express my hearty thanks to Mr, Stainton), is
“Practical Hints respecting Moths and Butterflies,
forming a Calendar of Entomological Operations,” ?
vy Richard Shield, a simple London working-iman.

1 Van Voorst & Co. price 3s,
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 221

I would gladly devote more space than I can here
spare to a review of this little book, so perfectly
does it corroborate every word which I have said
already as to the moral and intellectual value of such
studies. Richard Shield, making himself a first-rate
“lepidopterist,” while working with his hands for a
pound a week, is the antitype of Mr. Peach, the
coast-guardsman, among his Cornish tide-rocks. But
more than this, there is about Shield’s book a tone
as of Izaak Walton himself, which is very delight-
ful; tendor, poetical, and religious, yet full of quiet
quaintness and humour ; showing in every page how
the love for Natural History is in him only one ex-
pression of a love for all things beautiful, and pure,
and right. If any readers of these pages fancy that
I over-praise the book, let them buy it, and judge
for themselves. They will thus help the good man
toward pursuing his studies with larger and better
appliances, and will be (as I expect) surprised to find
how much there is to be seen and done, even by a
working-man, within a day’s walk of smoky Babylon

itself; and how easily a man might, if he would,
222 GLAUCUS ; OR,

wash his soul clean for a while from all the turmoil
and intrigue, the vanity and vexation of spirit of
that ‘“too-populous wilderness,” by going out to be
alone a while with God in heaven, and with that
earth which He has given to the children of men,
not merely for the material wants of their bodies,
but as a witness and a sacrament that in Him they
live and move, and have their being, “not by bread
alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the
mouth of God.”

Thus I wrote some twenty years ago, when the
study of Natural History was confined mainly to
several scientific men, or mere collectors of shells,
insects, and dried plants.

Since then, I am glad to say, it has become a
popular and common pursuit, owing, I doubt not,
to the impulse given to it by the many authors
whose works I then recommended. I recommend
them still; though a swarm of other manuals and
popular works have appeared since, excellent in their

way, and almost beyond counting. But all honour
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 223

to those, and above all to Mr. Gosse and Mr. Johns,
who first opened people’s eyes to the wonders around
them all day long. Now, we have, in addition to
amusing books on: special subjects, serials on Natural
History more or less profound, and suited to every
kind of student and every grade of knowledge. I
mention the names of none. For first, they happily
need no advertisement from me; and next, I fear to
be unjust to any one of them by inadvertently omit-
ting its name. Let me add, that in the advertising
columns of those serials, will be found notices of all
the new manuals, and of all apparatus, and other
matters, needed by amateur naturalists, and of many
who are more than amateurs. Microscopy, mean-
while, and the whole study of “The Wonders of the
Little”’ have made vast strides in the last twenty
years ; and I was equally surprised and pleased, to
find, three years ago, in each of two towns of a
few thousand inhabitants, perhaps a dozen good
microscopes, all but hidden away from the public,
worked by men who knew how to handie them,

and who knew what they were looking at ; but who
224 GLAUOUS ; OR,

modestly refrained from telling anybody what they
were doing so well. And it was this very discovery
of unsuspected microscopists which made me more

as I see now in many



desirous than ever to see
places—scientific societies, by means of which the
few, who otherwise would work apart, may com-
municate their knowledge to each other, and to the
many. These “ Microscopic,” “ Naturalist,” “Geo-
logical,” or other ‘societies, and the “Field Clubs”
for excursions into the country, which are usually
connected with them, form a most pleasant and
hopeful new feature in English Society; bringing
together, as they do, almost all ranks, all shades of
opinion; and it has given me deep pleasure to see, in
the case at least of the Country Clubs with which I
am acquainted, the clergy of the Church of England
taking an active, and often a leading, interest in
their practical work. The town clergy are, for the
most part, too utterly overworked to follow the
example of their country brethren. But I have
reason to know that they regard such societies, and

Natural History in general, with no unfriendly eyes ;
THE WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 225

and that there is less fear than ever that the clergy
of the Church of England should have to relinquish
their ancient boast—that since the formation of
the Royal Society in the seventeenth century, they
have done more for sound physical science than any
other priesthood or ministry in the world. Let me
advise anyone who may do me the honour of reading
these pages, to discover whether such a Club or
Society exists in his neighbourhood, and to join it
forthwith, certain that—if his-experience be at all
like mine—he will gain most pleasant information
and most pleasant acquaintances, and pass most
pleasant days and evenings, among people whom
-he will be glad to know, and whom he never would
have known save for the new—and now, I hope,
rapidly spreading—freemasonry of Natural History.

Meanwhile, I hope—though I dare not say I trust
—to see the day when the boys of each of our
large schools shall join —like those of Marl-
borough and Clifton—the same freemasonry; and
have their own Naturalists’ Clubs; nay more;

when our public schools and universities shall

Q
226 GLAUCUS ; OR,

awake to the real needs of the age, and—even to the
curtailing of the time usually spent in not learning
Latin and Greek—teach boys the rudiments at
least of botany, zoology, geology, and so forth; and
when the public opinion, at least of the refined and
educated, shall consider it as ludicrous—to use no
stronger word—to be ignorant of the commenest
facts and laws of this living planet, as to be ignorant
of the rudiments of two dead languages. All
honour to the said two languages. Ignorance of
them is a serious weakness ; for it implies ignorance
of many things else; and indeed, without some
knowledge of them, the nomenclature of the physical
sciences cannot be mastered. But I have got to
discover that a boy’s time is more usefully spent,
and his intellect more methodically trained, by
getting up Ovid’s Fasti with an ulterior hope of
being able to write a few Latin verses, than in
getting up Professor Rolleston’s “Forms of Animal
Life,” or any other of the excellent Scientific
Manuals for beginners, which are now, as I said,

happily so numerous.
THE "WONDERS OF THE SHORE. 227

May that day soon come; and an old dream of
mine, and of my scientific friends, be fulfilled at last.

And so I end this little book, hoping, even pray-
ing, that it may encourage a few more labourers to
go forth into a vineyard, which those who have
toiled in it know to be full of ever-fresh health, and
wonder, and simple joy, and the presence and the

glory of Him whose name is Loves.

Q 2
APPENDIX.
APPENDIX.

PLATE IL

ZOOPHYTA. POLYZOA.

Tue forms of animal life which are now united in
an independent class, under the name Polyzoa, so |
nearly resemble the Hydroid Zoophytes in general
form and appearance that a casual observer may sup-
pose them to be nearly identical. In all but the more
recent works, they are treated as distinct indeed, but
still included under the general term “ ZOoOPHYTES.”
The animals of both groups are minute, polypiform
creatures, mostly living in transparent cells, springing

from the sides of a stem which unites a number of
232 APPENDIX.

individuals in one common life, and grows in a shrub-
like form upon any submarine body, such as a shell,
a rock, a weed, or even another polypidom to which
it is parasitically attached. Each polype, in both
classes, protrudes from and retreats within its cell by
an independent action, and when protruded puts forth
a circle of tentacles whose motion round the mouth
is the means of securing nourishment. There are,
however, peculiarities in the structure of the Poly-
zoa Which seem to remove them from Zoophytology
to a place in the system of nature more nearly con-
nected with Molluscan types. Some of them come
so near to the compound ascidians that they have
been termed, as an order, “ Zoophyta ascidioida.”
The simplest form of polype is that of a fleshy
bag open at one end, surmounted by a circle of con-
tractile threads or fingers called tentacles. The plate
shows, on a very minute scale, at figs. 1, 3, and 6,
several of these little polypiform bodies protruding
from their cells. But the Hydra or Fresh-water
Polype has no cell, and is quite unconnected with

any root thread, or with other individuals of the
APPENDIX. . 233

same species. It is perfectly free, and so simple in
its structure, that when the sac which forms its body
is turned inside out it will continue to perform the
functions of life as before. The greater part, however,
of these Hydraform Polypes, although equally simple
as individuals, are connected in a compound life by
means of their variously formed polypidom, as the
branched system of cells is termed. The Hydroid
Zoophytes are represented in the first plate by the

following examples.

FLyDROIDA.
SERTULARIA ROSEA, £1. I. jig. 6.

A species which has the cells in pairs on opposite
sides of the central tube, with the openings turned
outwards. In the more enlarged figure is seen a
septum across the inner part of each cell which
forms the base upon which the polype rests. Tig.
7 & indicates the natural size of the piece of branch
represented; but it must be remembered that this

is only a smail portion of the bushy shrub.
234 APPENDIX.

CAMPANULARIA SYRINGA. 1. I. fig. 8.

This Zoophyte twines itself parasitically upon a
species of Sertularia. The cells in this species are
thrown out at irregular intervals upon flexible stems
which are wrinkled in rings. They consist: of length-

ened, cylindrical, transparent vases.

CAMPANULARIA VOLUBILIS. Pl. I. fig. 9.

A still more beautiful species, with lengthened
foot-stalks ringed at each end. The polype is re-
markable for the »:ctrusion and contractile power of

its lips. It has about twenty knobbed tentacula.

POLYZOA.

Among Polyzoa the animal’s body is coated with
a membraneous covering, like that of the Tunicated
Mollusca, but which is a continuation of the edge of
the cell, which doubles back upon the body in such
a manner that when the animal protrudes from its

cell it pushes out the flexible membrane just as one
APPENDIX. 235

would turn inside out the finger of a glove. This
oneness of cell and polype is a distinctive character
of the group. Another is the higher organization of
the internal parts. The mouth, surrounded by ten-
tacles, leads by gullet and gizzard through a channel
into a digesting stomach, from which the rejectable
matter passes upwards through an intestinal canal
till it is discharged near the mouth. ‘The tentacles
also differ much from those of true Polypes. Instead
of being fleshy and contractile, they are rather stiff,
resembling spun glass, set on the sides with vibrating
cilia, which by their motion up one side and down
the other of each tentacle, produce a current which
impels their living food into the mouth. When these
tentacles are withdrawn, they are gathered up in a
bundle, like the stays of an umbrella. Our Plate I.

contains the following examples of Polyzoa.

VALKERIA cuscuTa. Pl. I. fig. 3.
From a group in one of Mr. Lloyd’s vases. Fig.
3a is the natural size of the central group of’

cells, in a specimen coiled round a thread-like weed.
236 APPENDIX.

Underneath this is the same portion enlarged. When
magnified to this apparent size, the cells could be
seen in different states, some closed, and others with
their bodies protruded. When magnified to 3d, we
could pleasantly watch the gradual eversion of the
membrane, then the points of the tentacles slowly
appearing, and then, when fully protruded, suddenly
expanding into a bell-shaped circle. This was their
usual appearance, but sometimes they could be
noticed bending inwards, as in fie. 3c, as if tc
imprison some living atom of importance. Fig. t
represents two tentacles, showing the direction in

which the cilia vibrate

CRISIA DENTICULATA. JU. I. jig. 4.

I have only drawn the cells from a prepared speci-

men. The polypes are like those described above.

GEMELLARIA LonicaTA, Pl. I. jig. 5.

Here the cells are placed in pairs, back to back.

5a is a very small portion on the natural scale.
APPENDIX. 237

CELLULABIA CILIATA. PU. I. fig. 7.

The cells are alternate on the stem, and are
curiously armed with long whip-like cilia or spines.
On the back of some of the cells is a very strange
appendage, the use of which is not with certainty
ascertained. It is a minute body, slightly resembling
a vulture’s head, with a movable lower beak. The
whole head keeps up a nodding motion, and the
movable beak occasionally opens widely, and then
suddenly snaps to with a jerk. It has been seen to
hold an animalcule between its jaws till the latter
has died, but it has no power to communicate the
prey to the polype in its cell or to swallow and
digest it on its own account. It is certainly not
an independent parasite, as has been supposed, and
yet its purpose in the animal economy. is a mystery.
Mr. Gosse conjectures that its use may be, by hold-
ing animalcules till they die and decay, to attract
by their putrescence crowds of other animalcules,
which may thus be drawn within the influence of

the polype’s ciliated tentacles, Fig. 7 shows the
238 APPENDIX.

form of one of these “ birds’ heads,” and fig. 7 ¢, its

position on the cell.

Flusrra Lingata, Pi. 1. fig. 1.

In Flustree, the cells are placed side by side on an
expanded membrane. Fig. 1 represents the general
appearance of a species which at least resembles
F. lineata as figured in Johnston’s work. It is
spread upon a | ucus. Fig. @ is an enlarged view

of the cells.

Fuustra Foutacea. PU. I. fig. 2.

We figure « ‘rond or two of the common species,
which has cells on both sides. It is rarely that the

polypes can be seen in a state of expansion.
SERIALARIA Lenpicera. Pi. I. fiz. 10.

Noramia Bursaria. Pl. 1. fey. 11.
The “ tobacco-pipe” appendages, fig. 112, are of
unknown use: they are probably analogous to the

birds’ heads in the Cellularic.
APPENDIX. 239

PLATE V.
CORALS AND SEA ANEMONES.

CARYOPHYLLEZA Suita. Pl. V. fig. 2. Pl. VI. fig. 3.

THE connection between Brainstones, Mushroom
Corals, and other Madrepores abounding on Poly-
nesian reefs, and the “Sea Anemones,” which have
lately become so familiar to us all, can be seen by
comparing our comparatively insigniticant ©. Smithii
with our commonest species of Actinia and Sagartia.
The former is a beautiful object when the fleshy part
and tentacles are wholly or partially expanded. Like
Actinia, it has a membranous covering, a simple sac-
like stomach, a central mouth, a disk surrounded by
contractile and adhesive tentacles. Unlike Actinia,
it is fixed to submarine bodies, to which it is glued
in very early life, and cannot change its place. Un-
like Actinia, its body is supported by a stony skeleton
of calcareous plates arranged edgewise so as to ra-

diate from the centre. But as we find some Molluscs
240 APPENDIX.

furnished with a shell, and others even of the same
character and habits without one, so we find that
in spite of this seemingly important difference, the
animals are very similar in their nature. Since the
introduction of glass tanks we have opportunities of
seeing anemones crawling up the sides, so as to
exhibit their entire basal disk, and then we may
observe lightly coloured lines of a less transparent
substance than the interstices, radiating from the
margin to the centre, some short, others reaching
the entire distance, and arranged in exactly the same
manner as the plates of Caryophyllea. These are
doubtless flexible walls of compartments dividing the
fleshy parts of the softer animals, and corresponding
with the septa of the coral. Fig. 2a represents a
section of the latter, to be compared with the basal

disk of Sagartia.

SAGARTIA ANGUICOMA. PJ. V. fig. 3, a, b.

This genus has been separated from Actinia on

account of its habit of throwing out threads when
APPENDIX. 241

irritated. Although my specimens often assumed the
form represented in fig. 3, Mr. Lloyd informs me that
it must have arisen from unhealthiness of condition,
its usual habit being to contract into a more flattened
form. When fully expanded, its transparent and
lengthened tentacles present a beautiful appearance.
Fig. 3a, showing a basal disk, is given for the

purpose already described.

BALANOPHYLL&A REGIA. Pi, V. fig. 1.

Another species of British madrepore, found by
Mr. Gosse at Ilfracombe, and by Mr. Kingsley at
Lundy Island. It is smaller than C. Smithii, of a
very bright colour, and always covers the upper
part of its bony skeleton, in which the plates are
differently arranged from those of the smaller species.
Fig. 1 shows the tentacles expanded in an unusual
degree ; 1 a, animal contracted; 18, the coral; 1e,

a tentacle enlarged.
242 APPENDIX,

PLATE VI.
CORALS AND SEA ANEMONES.
ACTINIA MESEMBRYANTHEMUM. PU. VI. fig. La.

THIS common species is more frequently met with
than many others, because it prefers shallow water,
and often lives high up among rocks which are only
covered by the sea at very high tide; so that the
creature can, if it will, spend but a short portion of
its time immersed. When uncovered by the tide,
it gathers up its leathery tunic, and presents the
appearance of fig. 1a When under water it may
often be seen expanding its flower-like disk and
moving its feelers in search of food. These feelers
have a certain power of adhesion, and any not too
vigorous animals which they touch are easily drawn
towards the centre and swallowed. Around the
margin of the tunic are seen peeping out between

the tentacles certain bright blue globules looking
APPENDIX. 243

very like eyes, but whose purpose is not exactly
ascertained. Fig. 1 represents the disk only par-

tially expanded.

BuNoDES ckaAssicornis. PI. VI. jig. 2.

This genus of Actinioid zoophytes is distinguished
from Actinia proper by the tubercles or warts which
stud the outer covering of the animal. In B.
gemmacea these warts are arranged symmetrically,
so as to give a peculiarly jewelled appearance to
the body. Being of a large size, the tentacles of
B. crassicornis exhibit in great perfection the adhe-
sive powers produced by the nettling threads which

proceed from them.

CARYOPHYLLZA Situ. Pl. VI. jig. 3.

This figure is to show a whiter variety, with the

flesh and tentacles fully expanded.

2k
244 APPENDIX.

PLATE VIII.
Mo.uusca.
Nassa reticutata. Pl. VIII. jig. 2, a,b, ¢,d,¢,f

A veERY active Mollusc, given here chiefly on
account of the opportunity afforded by the birth of
young fry in Mr. Lloyd’s tanks. The Massa feeds on
small animalcules, for which, in aquaria, it may be
seen routing among the sand and stones, sometimes
burying itself among them so as only to show its
caudal tube moving along between them. A pair
of Nassve in Mr. Lloyd’s collection, deposited, on the
5th of April, about fifty capsules or bags of eges
upon the stems of weeds (fig. 20); each capsule con-
tained about a hundred eggs. The capsules opened
on the 16th of May, permitting the escape of roti-
ferous fry (fig. 2, ¢, d, ¢), not in the slightest degree
resembling the parent, but presenting minute nautilus-

shaped transparent shells. These shells rather hang
APPENDIX. 245

on than cover the bodies, which have a pair of lobes,
around which vibrate minute cilia in such a manner
as to give them an appearance of rotatory motion.
Under a lens they may be seen moving about very
actively in various positions, but always with the
look of being moved by rapidly turning wheels.
We should have been glad to witness the next
step towards assuming their ultimate form, but
were disappointed, as the embryos died. Fig.
2 f is the tongue of a Nassa, from a_ photo-

eraph by Dr. Kingsley.

THE END.

LONDON: &. CLAY, SONS, AND TAYLOR, PRINTERS, BREAD STREET WILL.

th ae

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VAAN:
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