Brothers of Pity and Other Tales of Beasts and Men

by Juliana Horatia Gatty Ewing

  AMONG THE MERROWS.

  A SKETCH OF A GREAT AQUARIUM.

  I remember the time when I, and a brother who was with me, devoutlybelieved in a being whom we supposed to live among certain black,water-rotted, weed-grown stakes by the sea. These old wooden ruins were,I fancy, the remains of some rude pier, and amid them, when the tide waslow, we used to play, and to pay fancy visits to our fancy friend.

  We called her Shriny--why, I know no more than when I first readCroker's delightful story of "The Soul Cages" I knew why the Merrow whomJack went to see below the waves was called Coomara.

  My remembrance of even what we fancied about Shriny is very dim now; andas my brother was only four years old (I was eight), his is not moredistinct. I know we thought of her, and talked of her, and were alwayseager to visit her supposed abode, and wander together amongst itsrotten pillars (which, as we were so small, seemed lofty enough in oureyes), where the mussels and limpets held tightly on, and the slimy,olive-green fucus hung loosely down--a sea-ivy covering ruins made bythe waves.

  I have never been to the place since those days. If Shriny's palace isthere now at all, I dare say I should find the stakes to be stumps, andall the vastness and mystery about them gone for ever. And yet we usedto pretend to feast with her there. We served up the seed-vessels of thefucus as fish. I do not think we really ate them, we only sucked out thesalt water, and tried to fancy we were enjoying the repast. Once we_began_ to eat a limpet!--Beyond that point my memory is dumb.

  I wonder how we should have felt if Shriny had really appeared to us, asCoomara appeared to Jack Dogherty, and taken us down below the waves, orkept us among the stakes of her palace till the tide flooded them, andperhaps filled it with wonderful creatures and beautiful things, andfloated out the dank, dripping fucus into a veil of lace above ourheads; as our mother used to float out little dirty lumps of seaweedinto beautiful web-like pictures when she was preserving them for hercollection.

  Shriny never did come, though Mr. Croker says Coomara came to Jack.

  Perhaps, young readers, some of you have never read the story of theSoul Cages. It is a long one, and I am not going to repeat it here,only to say a word or two about it, for which I have a reason.

  Jack Dogherty--so the story goes--had always longed to see a Merrow.Merrow is the Irish name for seafolk; indeed, it properly means amermaid. And Jack, you know, lived in a fairy tale, and not in lodgingsat a watering-place on the south coast; so he saw his Merrow, though wenever saw Shriny.

  I do not think any of the after-history of the Merrow is equal to Mr.Croker's account of his first appearance to Jack: afterwards "Old Coo"becomes more like a tipsy old fisherman than the man-fish that he was.

  The first appearance was on the coast to the northward, when "just asJack was turning a point, he saw something, like to nothing he had everseen before, perched upon a rock at a little distance out to sea; itlooked green in the body, as well as he could discern at that distance,and he would have sworn, only the thing was impossible, that it had acocked-hat in its hand. Jack stood for a good half-hour, straining hiseyes and wondering at it, and all the time the thing did not stir handor foot. At last Jack's patience was quite worn out, and he gave a loudwhistle and a hail, when the Merrow (for such it was) started up, putthe cocked-hat on its head, and dived down, head foremost, from therocks."

  For a long time Jack could get no nearer view of "the sea-gentlemanwith the cocked-hat," but at last, one stormy day, when he had takenrefuge in one of the caves along the coast, "he saw, sitting before him,a thing with green hair, long green teeth, a red nose, and pig's eyes.It had a fish's tail, legs with scales on them, and short arms likefins. It wore no clothes, but had the cocked-hat under its arm, andseemed engaged thinking very seriously about something."

  As I copy these words--_It wore no clothes, but had the cocked-hat underits arm, and seemed engaged thinking very seriously about something_--itseems to me that the portrait is strangely like something that I haveseen. And the more I think of it, the more I am convinced that the typeis familiar to me, and that, though I do not live in a fairy story, Ihave been among the Merrows. And further still that any one who pleasesmay go and see Coomara's cousins any day.

  There can be no doubt of it! I have seen a Merrow--several Merrows. Thatunclothed, over-harnessed form is before me now; sitting motionless on arock, "engaged thinking very seriously," till in some sudden impulse itrises, turns up its red nose, makes some sharp angular movements withhead and elbows, and plunges down, with about as much grace as if somestiff, red-nosed old admiral, dressed in nothing but cocked-hat,spectacles, telescope, and a sword between his legs, were to take aheader from the quarter-deck into the sea.

  I do not want to make a mystery about nothing. I should have resented itthoroughly myself when I was young. I make no pretence to have had anyglimpses of fairyland. I could not see Shriny when I was eight yearsold, and I never shall now. Besides, no one sees fairies now-a-days. The"path to bonnie Elfland" has long been overgrown, and few and farbetween are the Princes who press through and wake the Beauties thatsleep beyond. For compensation, the paths to Mother Nature's Wonderlandare made broader, easier, and more attractive to the feet of all men,day by day. And it is Mother Nature's Merrows that I have seen--in theCrystal Palace Aquarium.

  How Mr. Croker drew that picture of Coomara the Merrow, when he probablynever saw a sea crayfish, a lobster, or even a prawn at home, I cannotaccount for, except by the divining and prophetic instincts of genius.And when I speak of his seeing a crayfish, a lobster, or a prawn athome, I mean at their home, and not at Mr. Croker's. Two very differentthings for our friends the "sea-gentlemen," as to colour as well as inother ways. In his own home, for instance, a lobster is of variousbeautiful shades of blue and purple. In Mr. Croker's home he would bebright scarlet--from boiling! So would the prawn, and as solid as youplease; who in his own home is colourless and transparent as any ghost.

  Strangely beautiful those prawns are when you see them at home. And thatone seems to do in the Great Aquarium; though, I suppose, it is muchlike seeing land beasts and birds in the Zoological Gardens--a poorimitation of their free life in their natural condition. Still, there isno other way in which you can see and come to know these wonderful "seagentlemen" so well, unless you could go, like Jack Dogherty, to visitthem at the bottom of the sea. And whilst I heartily recommend every onewho has not seen the Aquarium to visit it as soon as possible, let medescribe it for the benefit of those who cannot do so at present. It mayalso be of some little use to them hereafter to know what is most worthseeing there, and where to look for it.

  No sooner have you paid your sixpence at the turnstile which admits you,than your eye is caught by what seems to be a large window in the wall,near the man who has taken your money. You look through the glass, andfind yourself looking into a deep sea-pool, with low stone-grey rocksstudded with sea-anemones in full bloom. There are twenty-one differentspecies of sea-anemones in the Aquarium; but those to be seen in thisparticular pool are chosen from about seven of the largest kinds. Thevery biggest, a _Tealia crassicornis_, measures ten inches across whenhe spreads his pearly fingers to their full extent. "In my young days"we called him by the familiar name of Crassy; and found him so difficultto keep in domestic captivity, that it was delightful to see himblooming and thriving as he does in Tank No. 1 of the Great Aquarium.His squat build--low and broad--contrasts well with those tall whiteneighbours of his (_Dianthus plumosa_), whose faces are like a plume ofsnowy feathers. All the sea-anemones in this tank have settledthemselves on the rocks according to their own fancy. They are of lovelyshades of colour, rosy, salmon-coloured, and pearly-white.

  There are more than five thousand sea-anemones of various kinds in theAquarium; and they have an attendant, whose sole occupation is to feedthem, by means of a pair of long wooden forceps.

  Reluctantly breaking away from such old friends, we pass through a doorinto a long vault-like stone passage or hall, down one side of whichthere seem to be high la
rge windows, about as far apart as windows of along room commonly are. Behind each of these is a sea-pool like thefirst one.

  Take the first of the lot--Tank No. 2. It is stocked with _Serpulae_.Sea-anemones are well-known to most people, but tube-worms are not suchfamiliar friends; so I will try to describe this particular kind of"sea-gentlemen." The tube-worms are so called because, though they aretrue worms (sea-worms), they do not trust their soft bodies to the sea,as our common earth-worms trust theirs in a garden-bed, but buildthemselves tubes inside which they live, popping their heads out at thetop now and then like a chimney-sweep pushing his brush out at the topof a tall round chimney. Now if you can fancy one of our tall roundmanufactory chimneys to be white instead of black, and the roundchimney-sweep's brush to have lovely gay-coloured feathers all round itinstead of dirty bristles, or if you can fancy the sweep letting off amonster catherine-wheel at the chimney's mouth, you may have some ideawhat a tube-worm's head is like when he pokes it out of his tube.

  The _Serpulae_ make their tubes of chalky stuff, something likeegg-shell; and they stick them on to anything that comes to hand downbelow. Those in the Great Aquarium came from Weymouth. They were dredgedup with the white pipes or tubes sticking to oyster-shells, old bottles,stones, and what not, like bits of maccaroni glued on to old crockerysherds. These odds and ends are overgrown, however, with weeds andzoophytes, and (like an ugly house covered by creepers) look picturesquerather than otherwise. The worms have small bristles down their bodies,which serve as feet, and help them to scramble up inside their tubes,when they wish to poke their heads out and breathe. These heads aredelicate, bright-coloured plumes. Each species has its own plume of itsown special shape and colour. They are only to be seen when the animalis alive. A good many little _Serpulae_ have been born in the Aquarium.

  Through the next window--Tank No. 3--you may see more tube-worms, withray-like, daisy heads, and soft muddy tubes. They are _Sabellae_.

  Have you ever see a "sea-mouse"? Probably you have: preserved in abottle. It is only like a mouse from being about the size of a mouse'sbody, without legs, and with a lot of rainbow-coloured hairs. You may beastonished to hear that it is classed among the worms. There is asea-mouse in the Great Aquarium. I did not see him; perhaps because heis given to burrowing. If he is not in one of the two tanks just namedhe is probably in No. 21 or No. 25. He is so handsome dead and in abottle, that he must be gorgeous to behold alive and in a pool. Youshould look out for him.

  It is a disappointing feature of this water wonderland that some of the"sea-gentlemen" are apt to hide, like hobbledehoy children, whenvisitors call. Indeed, a good many of them--such as the swimming-crabs,the burrowing-crabs, the sea-scorpions, and the eels--are night-feeders,and one cannot expect them to change their whole habits and customs tobe seen of the British public. Anyhow, whether they hide from custom orcaprice, they are quite safe from interference. Much happier, in thisrespect, than the beasts in the Zoological Gardens. One may disturb thebig elephant's repose with umbrella-points, or throw buns at the brownbear, but the "sea-gentlemen" are safe in their caves, and humanityflattens its nose against the glass wall of separation in vain.

  When I looked into Tank No. 5, however, there were severalswimming-crabs and sea-scorpions to be seen. The sea-scorpions are fish,but bold-faced, fiery, greedy little fellows. The swimming-crabs aresaid to be "the largest, strongest, and _hungriest_" of English crabs.What a thought for those they live on! Let us picture to ourselves thelargest, strongest, and _hungriest_ of cannibals! Doubtless he wouldmake short work even of the American Giant, as the swimming-crabs, bynight, devour other crabs, larger but milder-tempered than themselves.It speaks volumes for the sea-scorpions, who are small fish, that theycan hold their own in the same pool with the swimming-crabs.

  Tank 4 contains big spider-crabs, who sit with their knees above theirheads, winking at you with their eyes and feelers; or scramble outunexpectedly from dens and caves here and there, high up in the rockysides of the pool.

  Nos. 6, 7, and 8 contain fish.

  It really is sad to think how completely our ideas on the subject of codspring from the kitchen and the fish-kettle. (As to our cod-liver oil,we know no more how much of it has anything to do with cod-fish than wecan guess where our milk and port-wine come from.) Poor cod! If of acertain social standing, it's odds if we will recognize any of him buthis head and shoulders. I have seen him served up in country inns with apickled walnut in the socket of each eye; and in life, and at home, hehas the attentive, inquisitive, watchful, humorous eyes common to allfishes.

  Fishes remind me rather of Chinese, who are also a cold-blooded race:slow, watchful, inquisitive, acquisitive, and full of the sense ofhumour. There are fishes in the Great Aquarium whose faces twinkle againwith quiet fun.

  The cod here seemed quite as much interested in looking at us through aglass window as we were in looking at them. They are tame, and havevery large appetites--so tame, and so hungry, that the fish who livewith them are at a disadvantage at meal-times, and it is feared thatthey must be removed.

  These other fish are plaice, soles, brill, turbot, and skate. The skatelove to lie buried over head and ears in the sand. The faintest outlineof tail or a flapping fin betrays the spot, and you long for anumbrella-poke from some Zoological-Garden-frequenting old lady, to stirthe lazy creature up; but it is impossible.

  Suddenly, when you are as tired of waiting as Jack was when Coomara was"engaged thinking," the fin movement becomes more distinct, a cloud ofsand rises into the water, and a grey-coated skate, with two ornamentalknobs upon his tail, flaps slowly away across the pool.

  Sometimes these flat-fish flap upwards to the surface, poke their nosesinto the other world, and then, like larks, having gone up with effort,let themselves easily down again to the ground.

  As we were looking into No. 7, an ambitious little sole took into hishead to climb up the rocks, in the caves of which dwell crusty crabs. Bymarvellously agile doubles of his flat little body, he scrambled a goodway up. Then he fell, and two or three valiant efforts still provingvain, he gave it up.

  "He's turned giddy!" shouted a man beside us, who, like every one else,was watching the sea-gentlemen with rapt interest.

  Why the little sole tried rock climbing I don't know, and I doubt if heknew himself.

  Tank 7 is full of Basse--glittering fish who keep their silver armourclean by scrubbing it among the stones. Like other prettily-dressedpeople, they look out of the window all along.

  At Tanks 1, 2, and 3, your chief feelings will be curiosity andadmiration. The sea-flowers and the worms are rather low in the scale ofliving things. Far be it from you to decide that there are any livingcreatures with whom a loving and intelligent patience will not at lastenable us to hold communion. But though, when you put the point of yourlittle finger towards a Crassy, he gives it a very affectionate squeeze,and seems rather anxious to detain it permanently, the balance ofevidence favours the idea that his appetite rather than his affectionsare concerned, and that he has only mistaken you for his dinner.

  At present our intercourse is certainly limited, and though the_Serpulae_ and _Sabellae_ have their heads out of their chimneys allalong, there is no reason to suppose that they take the slightestinterest in the human beings who peer at them through the glass.

  But with the fishes it is quite another thing. When you can fairly lookinto eyes as bright and expressive as your own, a long stride has beentaken towards friendly relations. You flatten your nose on one side ofthe glass, and Mr. Fish flattens his on the other. If you have thestoniest of British stares he will outstare you. You long to scratch hisback, or show him some similar attention, and (if he be a cod) to askhim, as between friends, why on earth (I mean in sea) he wears thatqueer horn under his chin.

  Now with the _Crustaceans_(hard-shelled sea-gentlemen) it is differentagain. So far as one feels friendly towards a fish it is a fellowfeeling. You know people like this or that cod, as one knows people likecertain sheep, dogs, and horses. And a
very short acquaintance with fishconvinces you that not only is there a type of face belonging to eachspecies, but that individual countenances vary, as with us. It is saidthat shepherds know the faces of their sheep as well as of their otherfriends, and I have no doubt that the keeper of the Great Aquarium knowshis cod apart quite well.

  And if one's feeling for the _Crustaceans_--the crabs, lobsters, prawns,&c.--is different, it is not because one feels them to be lessintelligent than fishes, but because their intelligence is altogether amysterious, unfathomable, unmeasurable quantity. There's no saying whatthey don't know. There is no telling how much they can see. And thegreat puzzle is what they can be thinking of. For that the spinylobsters are thinking, and "thinking very seriously about something,"you can no more doubt than Jack did about the Merrow.

  The spiny lobsters (commonly, but erroneously called craw-fish orcray-fish) and the common lobsters are in Tank No. 9.

  Ah! that is a wonderful pool. The first glimpse of the spiny lobsters isenough for any one who has read of Coomara. We are among the Merrows atlast.

  I don't know that Coomara was a lobster, but I think he must have been acrustacean. Even his green hair reminds one of the spider-crabs; thoughmatter-of-fact naturalists tell us that _their_ green hair is onlyseaweed which grows luxuriantly on their shells from their quiet habits,and because they are not given to burrowing, or cleaning themselvesamong the stones like the silver-coated basse. At one time, by the bye,it was supposed that they dressed themselves in weeds, whence they werecalled "vanity-crabs."

  But the spiny lobsters--please to look at them, and see if you can somuch as guess their age, their capabilities, or their intentions. Ifancy that the difference between the feelings with which they and thefishes inspire us is much the same as that between our mental attitudetowards hill-men or house-elves, and towards men and women.

  The spiny lobsters are red. The common lobsters are blue. The spinylobsters are large, their eyes are startlingly prominent, their powerfulantennae are longer and redder than Coomara's nose, and wave about in aninquisitive and somewhat threatening manner. When four or five of themare gathered together in the centre of the pool, sitting solemnly ontheir tails, which are tucked neatly under them, each with his ten sharpelbows a-kimbo "engaged thinking" (and perhaps talking) "very seriouslyabout something," it is an impressive but _uncanny_ sight.

  We witnessed such a conclave, sitting in a close circle, face to face,waving their long antennae; and as we watched, from the shadowy cavesabove another merrow appeared. How he ever got his cumbersome coat ofmail, his stiff legs, and long spines safely down the face of the cliffis a mystery. But he scrambled down ledge by ledge, bravely, and in somehaste. He knew what the meeting was about, though we did not, and soontook his place, arranged his tail, his scales, his elbows, hiscocked-hat, and what not, and fell a-thinking, like the rest. We leftthem so.

  Most of the common lobsters were in their caves, from which theywatched this meeting of the reds with fixed attention.

  In their dark-blue coats, peering with their keen eyes from behindjutting rocks and the mouths of sea caverns, they looked somewhat likesmuggler sailors!

  Tanks 10 to 13 have fish in them. The Wrasses are very beautiful incolour. Most gorgeous indeed, if you can look at them in a particularway. Tank 32 has been made on purpose to display them. It is in anotherroom.

  No tank in the Aquarium is more popular than Tank 14. Enthusiasticpeople will sit down here with needlework or luncheon, and calmly waitfor a good view of--the cuttle-fish!

  Cuttle is the name for the whole race of cephalopods, and is supposed tobe a corruption of the word cuddle, in the sense of hugging.

  They are curious creatures, the one who favoured us with a good view ofhim being very like a loose red velvet pincushion with eight legs, andmost of the bran let out.

  Yet this strange, unshapely creature has a distinct brain in a soft kindof skull, mandibles like a parrot, and plenty of sense. His sight,hearing, touch, taste, and smell are acute. He lies kicking his legs inthe doorway of his favourite cavern, which he selected for himself andis attached to, for a provokingly long time before he will come out.When he does appear, a subdued groan of gratified expectation runsthrough the crowd in front of his window, as head over heels, hand overhand, he sprawls downwards, and moves quickly away with the peculiargait induced by having suckers instead of feet to walk with.

  Tank 15 contains eels. It seems to be a curious fact that fresh-watereels will live in sea-water. I should think, when they have once gotused to the salt, they must find a pond very tasteless afterwards. Theyare night-feeders, as school-boys know well.

  Tank 16. Fish--grey mullet. Tank 17. Prawns.

  If with the fishes we had felt with friends, and with the lobsters as ifwith hobgoblins, with the prawns we seemed to find ourselves amongghosts.

  A tank that seems only a pool for a cuttle-fish, or a cod, is a vastregion where prawns and shrimps are the inhabitants. The caves lookhuge, and would hold an army of them. The rocks jut boldly out, andthrow strange shadows on the pool. The light falls effectively fromabove, and in and out and round about go the prawns, with black eyesglaring from their diaphanous helmets, in colourless, translucent, ifnot transparent armour, and bristling with spears.

  "They are like disembodied spirits," said my husband.

  But in a moment more we exclaimed, "It's like a scene from Martin'smezzo-tint illustrations of the _Paradise Lost_. They are ghostly hostsgathering for battle."

  This must seem a most absurd idea in connection with prawns; but if youhave never seen prawns except at the breakfast-table, you must go to theGreat Aquarium to learn how impressive is their appearance in real life.

  The warlike group which struck us so forcibly had gathered rapidly fromall parts of the pool upon a piece of flat table-rock that jutted outhigh up. Some unexplained excitement agitated the host; theirinnumerable spear-like antennae moved ceaselessly. From above a ray oflight fell just upon the table-rock where they were gathered, making thewaving spears glitter like the bayonet points of a body of troops, andforming a striking contrast with the dark cliffs and overshadowed waterbelow, from which stragglers were quickly gathering, some paddlingacross the deep pool, others scrambling up the rocks, and all with thesame fierce and restless expression.

  How I longed for a chance of sketching the scene!

  Prawns are not quite such colourless creatures in the sea as they arehere. Why they lose their colour and markings in captivity is not known.They seem otherwise well.

  They are hungry creatures, and their scent is keen.

  The shrimps keep more out of sight; they burrow in the sand a good deal.You know one has to look for fresh-water shrimps in a brook if one wantsto find them.

  In Tank 18 are our old friends the hermit-crabs. As a child, I think Ibelieved that these curious creatures killed the original inhabitants ofthe shells which they take for their own dwelling. It is pleasant toknow that this is not the case. The hermit-crab is in fact asea-gentleman, who is so unfortunate as to be born naked, and quiteunable to make his own clothes, and who goes nervously about the world,trying on other people's cast-off coats till he finds one to fit him.

  They are funnily fastidious about their shells, feeling one well insideand out before they decide to try it, and hesitating sometimes betweentwo, like a lady between a couple of becoming bonnets. They have beensaid to be pugnacious; but I fancy that the old name of soldier-crabswas given to them under the impression that they killed the formerproprietors of their shells.

  With No. 18 the window tanks come to an end.

  In two other rooms are a number of shallow tanks open at the top, inwhich are smaller sea-anemones, star-fish, more crabs, fishes, &c., &c.

  Blennies are quaint, intellectual-looking little fish; friendly too,and easy to be tamed. In one of Major Holland's charming papers in_Science Gossip_ he speaks of a pet blenny of his who was not only tamebut musical. "He was exceedingly sensitive to the vibrations of stringedinstrumen
ts; the softest note of a violin threw him into a state ofagitation, and a harsh scrape or a vigorous _staccato_ drove him wild."

  In Tank 34 are gurnards, fish-gentlemen, with exquisite blue fins, likepeacock's feathers.

  No. 35 contains dragonets and star-fish. The dragonets are quaint,wide-awake little fish. I saw one snap at a big, fat, red star-fish, whowas sticking to the side of a rock. Why the dragonet snapped at him Ihave no idea. I do not believe he hurt him; but the star-fish graduallyrelaxed his hold, and fell slowly and helplessly on to his back; onwhich the dragonet looked as silly as the Sultan of Casgar's purveyorwhen the hunchback fell beneath his blows. Another dragonet came hastilyup to see what was the matter; but prudently made off again, and leftthe star-fish and his neighbour as they were. I waited a long time bythe tank, watching for the result; but in vain. The star-fish, lookingabjectly silly, lay with his white side up, without an effort to helphimself. As to the dragonet, he stuck out his nose, fixed his eyes, andfell a-thinking. So I left them.

  In Tank 38 are some Norwegian lobsters; red and white, very pretty, anddiffering from the English ones in form as well as colour.

  The green anemones in Tank 33 are very beautiful.

  The arrangement of most of these tanks is temporary. As somesea-gentlemen are much more rapacious than others, and as some prey uponothers, the arranging of them must have been very like the old puzzle ofthe fox, the goose, and the bag of seed. Then when new creatures arriveit necessitates fresh arrangements.

  There is not much vegetation as yet in the tanks, which may puzzle somepeople who have been accustomed to balance the animal and vegetable lifein their aquaria by introducing full-grown sea-weeds. But it has beenfound that these often fail, and that it is better to trust to the weedswhich come of themselves from the action of light upon the invisibleseeds which float in all sea-water.

  The pools are also kept healthy by the water being kept in constantmotion through the agency of pipes, steam-engines, and a huge reservoirof sea-water.

  It is not easy to speak with due admiration of the scientific skill, theloving patience, the mindfulness of the public good which must have goneto the forming of this Public Aquarium. With what different eyes mustinnumerable "trippers" from the less-educated masses of our people lookinto tide pools or crab holes, during their brief holiday at theseaside, if they have previously been "trippers" to the CrystalPalace, and visited the Great Aquarium.

  Let us hope that it may stir up some sight-seers to be naturalists, andsome naturalists to devote their powers to furthering our too limitedfriendship with the sea-gentry. How much remains to be done may begathered from the fact that we can as yet keep no deep-sea Merrows inaquaria, only shore-dwellers will live with us, and not all of these.And so insuperable, as yet, are the difficulties of transport, that"distinguished foreigners" are rare indeed.

  Still, as it stands, this Great Aquarium is wonderful--wonderfulexceedingly. There is a still greater one at Brighton, holding greaterwonders--a baby alligator amongst them--and we are very glad to hearthat one is to be established in Manchester also.

  It has been well said that a love of nature is a strong characteristiceven of the roughest type of Britons. An Englishman's first idea of aholiday is to get into the country, even if his second is apt to be asearch for the country beer-house.

  Of birds, and beasts, and trees, and flowers, there is a good deal evenof rustic lore. Of the wonders of the deep we know much less.

  Thousands of us can sing with understanding,

  O Lord, how manifold are thy works! In wisdom hast thou made them all. The earth is full of Thy riches.

  Surely hereafter more of us shall swell the antiphon,

  So is the great and wide sea also, Wherein are things creeping innumerable, Both small and great beasts.

  * * * * *

  NOTE.--A Great Aquarium (and something more) is being made at Naples by a young German naturalist--Dr. Dohrn, of Stettin--at an expense of between L7000 and L8000, nearly all of which comes out of his own pocket. The ground-floor of the building (an area of nearly eight thousand square feet) is to hold the Great Aquarium. It is hoped that the money obtained by opening this to the public will both support the Aquarium itself, and do something towards defraying the expenses of the upper story of the Zoological Station, as it is called. This will contain a scientific library, including Dr. Dohrn's own valuable private collection, and tables for naturalists to work at, furnished with necessary appurtenances, including tanks supplied with a constant stream of sea-water. Sea-fishing and dredging will be carried on in connection with the establishment, to supply subjects for study. Dr. Dohrn proposes to let certain of these tables to governments and scientific societies, who will then have the privilege of giving certificates, which will enable their naturalists to enjoy all the benefits of the institution.

  Surely some new acquaintances will be made among the sea-gentry in this paradise of naturalists!