but they drive forward in pursuit of whatever they can swallow, conquer, or enjoy.

A ceaseless desire of food seems to give the ruling impulse to all their motions. This appetite impels them to encounter every danger; and indeed their rapacity seems insatiable. Even when taken out of the water and almost expiring, they greedily swallow the very bait by which they were allured to destruction.

The maw is in general placed next the mouth, and, though possessed of no sensible heat, is, however, endued with a surprising faculty of digestion. Its digestive power seems in some measure to increase with the quantity of food it is supplied with a single pike having been known to devour a hundred roaches in three days. Its faculties, also, are as extraordinary; for it digests not only fish, but much harder substances-prawns, crabs, and lobsters, shells and all. These the cod or the sturgeon will not only devour but dissolve down, though their shells are so much harder than the sides of the stomach which contains them. This amazing faculty in the cold maw of fishes has justly excited the curiosity of philosophers, and has effectually overturned the system of...ose who supposed that the heat of the stomach was alone a sufficient instrument for digestion. The truth seems to be, and some experiments of the skilful Dr. Hunter seem to evince, that there is a power of animal assimilation lodged in the stomach of all creatures, which we can neither describe nor define, converting the substances they swallow into a fluid fitted for their own peculiar support. This is done neither by trituration, nor by warmth, nor by motion, nor by a dissolving fluid, nor by their united efforts; but by some principle in the stomach yet unknown, which acts in a different manner from all kinds of artificial maceration. The meat taken into the stomach or maw is often seen, though very near being digested, still to retain its original form, and ready for a total dissolution, while it appears to the eye as yet untouched by the force of the stomach. This animal power is lodged in the maw of fishes in a greater degree than in any other creatures; their digestive powers are quick, and their appetites are very craving.

Yet though fish are thus hungry and for ever prowling, no animals can suffer the want of food for so long a time. The gold and silver fish we keep in vases seem never to want any nourishment at all; whether it be that they feed on the water-insects, too minute for our observation, or that water alone is a sufficient supply, is not evident; but they are often seen for months without apparent sustenance. Even the pike, the most voracious of fishes, will live in a pond where there is none but himself, and, what is more extraordinary, will be often found to thrive

there.

Still, however, fish are of all other animals the most voracious and insatiable. Whatever any of them is able to swallow, possessed of life, seems to be considered as the most desirable food. Some that have very small mouths feed upon worms and the spawn of other fish; others, whose mouths are larger, seek larger prey-it matters not of what kind, whether of another or their own. Those with the largest mouths pursue almost everything that has life, and often meet each other in fierce opposition, when the fish with the largest swallow comes off with the victory, and devours its antagonist

Thus are they irritated by the continual desire of satisfying their hunger; and the life of a fish, from the smallest to the greatest, is but one scene of hostility, violence, and evasion. But the smaller fry stand no chance in the unequal combat; and their usual way of escaping is by swimming into those shallows where the greater ones are unable or too heavy to pursue. There they become invaders in turn, and live upon the spawn of larger fish, which they find floating upon the surface of the water; yet there are dangers attending them in every place. Even in the shallows, the muscle, the oyster, and the scallop lie in ambush at the bottom, with

their shells open, and whatever little fish inadvertently approaches into contact, they at once close their shells upon him, and devour the imprisoned prey at their leisure.

Nor is the pursuit of fishes, like that of terrestrial animals, confined to a single region or to one effort; shoals of one species follow those of another through vast tracts of ocean, from the vicinity of the pole even down to the equator. Thus the cod, from the banks of Newfoundland, pursues the whiting, which flies before it even to the southern shores of Spain. The cachalot is said in the same manner to pursue a shoal of herrings, and to swallow thousands at a gulp.

This may be one cause of the annual migrations of fishes from one part of the ocean to the other; but there are other motives which come in aid of this also. Fishes may be induced to change the place of their residence for one more suited to their constitutions, or more adapted to depositing their spawn. It is remarkable that no fish are fond of very cold waters, and generally frequent those places where it is warmest. Thus, in summer they are seen in great numbers in the shallows near the shore, where the sun has power to warm the water to the bottom; on the contrary, in winter they are found towards the bottom in the deep sea; for the cold of the atmosphere is not sufficiently penetrating to reach them at those great depths. Cold produces the same effect upon fresh-water fishes; and when they are often seen dead after severe frosts, it is most probable that they have been killed by the severity of the cold, as well as by their being excluded by the ice from the air.

All fish live in the water; yet they all stand in need of air for their support. Those of the whale kind, indeed, breathe the air in the same manner we do, and come to the surface every two or three minutes to take a fresh inspiration; but those which continue entirely under water are yet under a necessity of being supplied with air, or they will expire in a few minutes. We sometimes see all the fish of a pond killed when the ice every. where covers the surface of the water, and thus keeps off the air from the subjacent fluid. If a hole be made in the ice the fish will be seen to come all to that part, in order to take the benefit of a fresh supply. Should a carp in a large vase of water be placed under an airpump and then be deprived of its air, during the operation a number of bubbles will be seen standing on the surface of the fish's body; soon after the animal will appear to breathe swifter, and with great difficulty; it will be seen to rise towards the surface to get more air; the bubbles on its surface begin to disappear; the belly, that was before swoln, will then fall of a sudden, and the animal sinks expiring and convulsed to the bottom.

So very necessary is air to all animals, but particularly to fish, that, as was said, they can live but a few minutes without it; yet nothing is more difficult to be accounted for than the manner in which they obtain this necessary supply. Those who have seen a fish in the water must remember the motion of its lips and its gills, or at least of the bones on each side that cover them. This motion in the animal is without doubt analogous to our breathing; but it is not air, but water, that the fish actually sucks in and spouts out through the gills at every motion. The manner of its breathing is thus:-The fish first takes a quantity of water into the mouth, which is driven to the gills; these close and keep the water so swallowed from returning by the mouth; while the bony covering of the gills prevents it from going through them until the animal has drawn the proper quantity of air from the body of water thus imprisoned: then the bony covers open and give it a free passage; by which means also the gills again are opened, and admit a fresh quantity of water. Should the fish be prevented from the free play of its gills, or should the bony covers be kept from moving by a string tied round them, the animal would soon fall into convulsions, and die in a few minutes.

But though this be the general method of explaining respirations in fishes, the difficulty remains to know what is done with this air which the fish in this manner separates from the water. There seems no receptacle for containing it; the stomach, being the chief cavity within the body, is too much filled with aliment for the purpose. There is indeed a cavity, and that a pretty large one I mean the air-bladder or swim, which may serve to contain it for vital purposes; but that our philosophers have long destined to a very different use. The use universally assigned to the air-bladder is the enabling the fish to rise or sink in the water at pleasure, as that is dilated or compressed. The use assigned by the ancients for it was to come in aid of the lungs, and to remain as a kind of storehouse of air to supply the animal in its necessities. I own my attachment to this last opinion; but let us exhibit both with their proper share of evidence, and the reader must be left to determine.

The air-bladder is described as a bag filled with air, sometimes composed of one, sometimes of two, and sometimes of three divisions, situated towards the back of the fish, and opening into the maw or the gullet. Those who contend that this bag is designed for raising or depressing the fish in the water build up the following experiment -A carp being put into the air-pump, the bladder is said to expand itself to such a degree, that the fish swells in an extraordinary manner, till the bladder bursts, and then the fish sinks, and ever after continues to crawl at the bottom. On another occasion the air-bladder was pricked and wounded, which let out its air; upon which the fish sunk to the bottom, and was not seen to rise after. From thence it is inferred that the use of the air-bladder must be by swelling at the will of the animal, thus to increase the surface of the fish's body, and thence diminishing its specific gravity, to enable it to rise to the top of the water, and keep there at pleasure. On the contrary, when the fish wants to descend, it is, say they, but to exhaust this bladder of its air; and the fish, being thus rendered slimmer and heavier, consequently sinks to the bottom. Such is the account given of the use of the air-bladder; no part of which seems to me to be well supported. In the first place, though nothing is more certain than that a carp put into the air-pump will swell, yet so will a mouse or a frog; and these we know to have no airbladders. A carp will rise to the surface: but so will all fish that want air, whether they have an air-bladder or not. The air bladder is said to burst in the experiment; but that I deny. The air-bladder is indeed found empty, but it has suffered no laceration, and may be distended by being blown into like any other bladder that is found. The fish after the experiment, I grant, continues to creep at the bottom; and so will all fish that are sick and wounded, which must be the case with this after such an operation. Thus these facts prove nothing, but that when the fish is killed in an airpump, the air-bladder is found exhausted-and that it will naturally and necessarily be; for the drain of air by which the fish is supplied in the natural way will necessarily oblige it to make use of all its hidden stores; and, as there is a communication between the gullet and the air-bladder, the air which the latter contains will thus be obviously drawn away. But still further, how comes the air-bladder, according to their hypothesis, to swell under the experiment of the air-pump? What is it that closes the aperture of that organ in such a manner as at last to burst it; or what necessity has the fish for dilating it to that violent degree? At most, it only wants to rise to the surface; and that the fish can easily do without so great a distension of the air-bladder. Indeed, it would rather seem that the more the air was wanted without the less necessity there was for its being uselessly accumulated within; and to make the modern system consistent, the fish put under the air-pump, in

stead of permitting its bladder to be burst, would readily give up its contents; which, upon their supposition, all can do at pleasure.

But the truth is, the fish can neither increase nor diminish the quantity of air in its air-bladder at will no more than we can that which is contained in our stomachs. The animal has no one muscle, much less a pair of muscles, for contracting or dilating this organ; its aperture is from the gullet; and what air is put into it must remain there till the necessities, and not the will, of the animal call it forth as a supply.

But, to put the matter past a doubt, many fish are furnished with an air-bladder that continually crawl at the bottom, such as the eel and the flounder; and many more are entirely without any bladder that swim at ease in every depth, such as the anchovy and fresh-water gudgeon. Indeed, the number of fish that want this organ is alone sufficient proof that it is not so necessary for the purposes of swimming; and as the ventral fins, which in all fish lie flat upon the water, seem fully sufficient to keep them at all depths, I see no great occasion for this internal philosophical apparatus for raising and depressing them. Upon the whole, the air-bladder seems adapted for different purposes than that of keeping the fish at different depths in the water; but whether it be to supply them with air when it is wanted from without, or for what other purpose, I will not determine.

Hitherto we have seen a fish in every respect inferior to land animals in the simplicity of their conformation, in their senses, and their enjoyments; but of that humble existence which they have been granted by Nature they have a longer term than any other class of Animated Nature. "Most of the disorders incident to mankind," says Bacon, "arise from the changes and alterations of the atmosphere; but fishes reside in an element little subject to change; theirs is an uniform existence; their movements are without effort, and their life without labour. Their bones, also, which are united by cartilages, admit of indefinite extension; and the dif ferent sizes of animals of the same kind among fishes is very various. They still keep growing; their bodies, instead of suffering the rigidity of age, which is the cause of natural decay in land animals, still continue increasing with fresh supplies; and as the body grows, the conduits of life furnish their stores in greater abundance. How long a fish that seems to have scarce any bounds put to its growth continues to live is not ascertained; perhaps the life of a man would not be long enough to measure that of the smallest."

There have been two methods devised for determining the age of fishes, which are more ingenious than certain; the one is by the circles of the scales, the other by the transverse section of the back-bone. The first method is this:-When a fish's scale is examined through a microscope it will be found to consist of a number of circles, one circle within another, in some measure resembling those which appear upon the transverse section of a tree, and supposed to offer the same information; for as in trees we can tell their age by the number of their circles, so in fishes we can tell theirs by the number of their circles in every scale, reckoning one ring for every year of the animal's existence. By this method Mr. Buffon found a carp, whose scales he examined, to be not less than a hundred years old—a thing almost incredible, had we not several accounts in other authors which tend to confirm the discovery. Gesner gives us an instance of one of the same age; and Albertus of one more than double that period.

The age of the skate and the ray, that want scales, may be known by the other method; which is, by separating the joints of the back-bone, and then minutely observing the number of rings which the surface where it was joined exhibits. By this the fish's age is said to be known-and perhaps with as much certainty as in the former instance.

But how unsatisfactory soever these marks may be, we have no reason to doubt the great ages of some fishes. Those that have ponds often know the oldest by their superior size. But the longevity of these animals is nothing when compared to their fecundity. All sorts, a few of the larger ones excepted, multiply their kind, some by hundreds and some by millions. There are some that bring forth their young alive, and some that only produce eggs; the former are rather the least fruitful; yet even these are seen to produce in great abundance. The vivaparous blenny, for instance, brings forth two or three hundred at a time, all alive and playing round the parent together. Those who exclude their progeny in a more imperfect state, and produce eggs-which they are obliged to leave to chance, either on the bottom at the edge of the water, or floating on the surface where it is deeper are all much more prolific, and seem to proportion their stock to the danger there is of its consumption. Of these eggs thus deposited scarce one in a hundred brings forth an animal; they are devoured by all the lesser fry that frequent the shores-by aquatic birds near the margin, and by the larger fish in deep water. Still, however, there are enough for supplying the deep with inhabitants; and, notwithstanding their own rapacity and that of fowls of various tribes, the numbers that escape are sufficient to relieve the wants of a very considerable part of mankind. Indeed, when we consider the numbers that a single fish is capable of producing the amount will seem astonishing. If, for instance, we should be told of a being so very prolific that in a single season it would bring forth as many of its kind as there are inhabitants in England, it would strike us with suprise; yet a single cod produces full that number. The cod spawns in one season, as Lewenhoeck assures us, above nine million eggs or peas contained in one single roe; the flounder is commonly known to produce above one million, and the mackarel above five hundred thousand. Such an amazing in crease, if permitted to come to maturity, would overstock Nature, and even the ocean itself would not be able to contain, much less to provide for, the half of its inhabitants. But two wise purposes are answered by this amazing increase; it preserves the species in the midst of numberless enemies, and serves to furnish the rest with a sustenance adapted to their nature.

Fishes seem, all except the whale kind, entirely divested of those parental solicitudes which so strongly mark the manners of the more perfect terrestrial animals. How far they copulate remains as yet a doubt; for though they seem to join, yet the male is not furnished with any external instrument of generation. It is said by some that this only end in that action is to emit his impregnating milt upon the eggs that at that time fall from the female. He is said to be seen pursuing them as they float down the stream, and carefully impregnating them one after another. On some occasions, also, the females dig holes in the bottom of rivers and ponds, and there deposit their spawn, which is impregnated by the male in the same manner. All this, however, is very doubtful; what we know with certainty of the matter, and that not discovered till very lately, is, that the male has two organs of generation that open into the bladder of urine, and that these organs do not open into the rectum as in birds, but have a particular aperture of their own. These organs of generation in the male are empty at some seasons of the year; but before the time of spawning they are turgid with what is called the milt, and emit the fluid proper for impreg

nation.

Fish have different seasons for depositing their spawn: some that live in the depths of the ocean are said to choose the winter months; but in general, those which we are acquainted with choose the hottest months in summer, and prefer such water as is somewhat tepefied by the beams of the sun. They then leave the deepest parts

of the ocean, which are the coldest, and shoal round the coasts, or swim up the fresh-water rivers, which are warm as they are comparatively shallow. When they have deposited their burtheus they then return to their old stations, and leave their nascent progeny to shift for themselves.

The spawn continues in its eggs tate in some fish longer than in others, and this in proportion to the animal's size. In the salmon, for instance, the young animal continues in the egg from the beginning of December till the beginning of April; the carp continues in the egg not above three weeks; the little goldfish from China is produced still quicker. All these when excluded at first escape by their minuteness and agility. They rise, sink, and turn much readier than grown fish; and they can escape into very shallow waters when pursued. But, with all their advantages, scarce one in a thousand survives the numerous perils of its youth. The very male and female that have given them birth are equally dangerous and formidable with the rest, forgetting all relation at their departure. Such is the general picture of these heedless and hungry creatures: but there are some in this class living in the waters that are possessed of finer organs and higher sensations-that have all the tenderness of birds or quadrupeds for their young—that nurse them with constant care, and protect them from every injury. Of this class are the cetaceous" tribe, or the fishes of the whale kind. There are others, though not capable of nursing their young, yet that bring them alive into the world, and defend them with courage and activity. These are the "cartilaginous" kinds, or those who have gristles instead of bones. But the fierce, unmindful tribe we have been describing, that leave their spawn without any protection, are called spinous or bony kinds, from their bones resembling the sharpness of thorns.

Thus there are three grand divisions in the fish kind the "cetaceous," the " cartilaginous," and the "spinous;" all differing from each other in their conformations, their appetites, in their bringing forth, and in the education of their young. These three great distinctions are not the capricious differences formed by a maker of systems, but are strongly and firmly marked by Nature. These are the distinctions of Aristotle; and they have been adopted by mankind ever since his time. It will be necessary, therefore, to give the history of each of these in particular, and then to range under each head those fishes whose history is the most remarkable— or, more properly speaking, those of which we have any history; for we shall find, when we come to any of the species in particular, how little can be said of their habits, their stations, or their method of propagation.

Much, indeed, can be said of them if considered relatively to men; and large books have been written of the manner of taking fish, or of dressing them. Apicius is noted for having first taught mankind to suffocate fish in Carthaginian pickle; and Quin, for giving a sauce to the Johndore: Mrs. Glass is famous for her eel-pie, and Mr. Tull for his invention of spaying carp to give it a finer flavour. In this manner our cooks handle the subject. On the other hand, our physicians assure us that the flesh of fishes yields little nourishment, and soon corrupts; that it abounds in a gross sort of oil and water, and has but a few volatile particles, which render it less fit to be converted into the substance of our bodies. They are cold and moist, and must needs, say they, produce juices of the same kind, and consequently are improper to strengthen the body. In this diversity of opinion it is the wisest way to eat our fish in the ordinary manner, and pay no attention to cooks or doctors. I cannot conclude this chapter without putting a question to the learned which, I confess, I am not able to resolve. How comes it that fish which are bred in a salt element have yet no salt to the taste, or any that is capable of being extracted from them?

CHAP. II.

OF CETACEOUS FISHES IN GENERAL.

As on land there are some orders of animals that seem formed to command the rest with greater powers and more various instincts, so in the ocean there are fishes which seem formed upon a nobler plan than others, and which to their fishy form join the appetites and the conformation of quadrupeds. These are all of the "cetaceous" kind, and so much raised above their fellows of the deep in their appetites and instincts, that almost all our modern naturalists have fairly excluded them from the finny tribes, and will have them called, not fishes, but "great beasts of the ocean." With them it would be as improper to say men go to Greenland fishing for whale, as it would be to say that a sportsman goes to Blackwall fowling for mackarel.

Yet, notwithstanding philosophers, mankind will always have their own way of talking; and for my own part I think them here in the right. A different formation of the lungs, stomach, and intestines-a different manner of breathing or propagating, are not sufficient to counterbalance the great obvious analogy which these animals bear to the whole finny tribe. They are shaped as other fishes; they swim with fins; they are entirely naked, without hair; they live in the water, though they come up to breathe; they are only seen in the depths of the ocean, and never come upon the shore but when forced thither. These, sure, are sufficient to plead in favour of the general denomination, and acquit mankind of error in ranking them with their lower companions of the deep.

But still they are as many degrees raised above other fishes in their nature as they are in general in their size. This tribe is composed of the whale and its varieties of the cachalot, the dolphin, the grampus, and the porpoise. All these resemble quadrupeds in their internal structure, and in some of their appetites and affections. Like quadrupeds, they have lungs, a midriff, a stomach, intestines, liver, spleen, bladder, and parts of generation; the heart also resembles that of quadrupeds, with its partitions closed up as in them, and driving red and warm blood in circulation through their body. In short, every internal part bears a most striking similitude; and to keep these parts warm, the whole kind are also covered between the skin and the muscles with a thick coat of fat or blubber, which, like the bacon-fat of a hog, keeps out the cold, renders their muscles glib and pliant, and probably makes them lighter in swimming.

As these animals breathe the air, it is obvious that they cannot bear to be any long time under water. They are constrained, therefore, every two or three minutes to come up to the surface to take breath, as well as to spout out through their nostril (for they have but one) that water which they sucked in while gaping for their prey. This conduit, by which they breathe and also throw out the water, is placed in the head, a little before the brain. Though externally the hole is but single, it is internally divided by a bony partition, which is closed by a sphincter muscle on the inside, that, like the mouth of a purse, shuts it up at the pleasure of the animal. There is also another muscle or valve, which prevents the water from going down the gullet. When, therefore, the animal takes in a certain quantity of water which is necessary to be discharged and separated from its food, it shuts the mouth, closes the valve of the stomach, opens the sphincter that kept the nostril closed, and then breathing strongly from the lungs, pushes the water out by the effort, as we see it rise by the pressure of air in a fire-engine.

The senses of these animals seem also superior to those of other fishes. The eyes of other fishes, we have observed, are covered only with that transparent skin that covers the rest of the head; but in all the cetaceous

kinds it is covered by eye-lids, as in a man. This, no doubt, keeps that organ in a more perfect state, by giving it intervals of relaxation in which all vision is suspended. The other fishes, that are for ever staring, must see, if for no other reason, more feebly, as their organs of sight are always exerted.

As for hearing, these are also furnished with the internal instruments of the ear, although the external orifice nowhere appears. It is most probable that this orifice may open by some canal, resembling the Eustachian tribe, into the mouth; but this has not as yet been discovered.

Yet Nature sure has not thus formed a complete apparatus for hearing, and denied the animal the use of it when formed. It is most likely that all animals of the cetaceous kind can hear, as they certainly utter sounds, and bellow to each other. This vocal power would be as needless to animals naturally deaf as glasses to a man that was blind.

But it is the circumstances in which they continue their kind that these animals show an eminent superiority. Other fish deposit their spawn, and leave the success to accident: these never produce above one young, or two at the most; and this the female suckles entirely in the manner of quadrupeds, her breasts being placed, as in the human kind, above the naval. We have read many fabulous accounts of the nursing of the demigods of antiquity-of their feeding on the marrow of lions, and their being suckled by wolves; one might imagine a still more heroic system of nutrition, if we supposed that the young hero was suckled and grew strong upon the breast-milk of a she-whale!

The whale or the grampus are terrible at any time; but they are fierce and desperate in defence of their young. In Waller's beautiful poem of the Summer Islands, we have a story (founded upon fact) which shows the maternal tenderness of these animals for their offspring. A whale and her cub had got into an arm of the sea, where, by the desertion of the tide, they were enclosed on every side. The people from shore soon saw their situation, drove down upon them in boats with such weapons as the urgent occasion offered. The two animals were soon wounded in several places, and the sea around was tinctured with their blood. The whales made several attempts to escape; and at last the old one, by its superior strength, forced over the shallow into the depths of the ocean. But though in safety herself, she could not bear the danger that awaited her young one; she therefore rushed in once more where the smaller animal was imprisoned, and resolved, when she could not protect, at least to share its danger. The story ends with a poetical justice; for the tide coming in, brought off both in safety from their enemies, though not without sustaining an infinite number of wounds in every part.

As to the rest, the distinctive marks of this tribe are, that the number of their fins never exceed threenamely, two pectoral fins and one back fin; but in some sorts the last is wanting. These fins differ very much from those of other fishes, which are formed of straight spines: the fins of the cetaceous tribe are made up of bones and muscles; and the skeleton of one of their fins very much resembles the skeleton of a man's hand. Their tails, also, are different from those of all other fish-they are placed so as to lie flat on the surface of the water; while the other kinds have them, as we every day see, upright or edgeways. This flat position of the tail in cetaceous animals enables them to force themselves suddenly to the surface of the water to breathe, which they are continually constrained to do.

Of these enormous animals some are without teeth, and properly called whales; others have the teeth only in the lower jaw, and are called by the French cachalots; the narwhale has teeth only in the upper jaw; the dolphin's teeth, as well as those of the porpoise and

the grampus, are both above and below. These are the marks that serve to distinguish the kinds of this enormous tribe from each other; and these shall serve to guide us in giving their history.

CHAP. III.

ON THE WHALE, PROPERLY SO CALLED, AND ITS VARIETIES.

If we compare land animals in respect to magnitude with those of the deep, they will appear contemptible in the competition. It is probable, indeed, that quadrupeds once existed much larger than we find them at present. From the skeletons of some that have been dug up at different times, it is evident that there must have been terrestrial animals twice as large as the elephant; but creatures of such an immense bulk required a proportionable extent of ground for subsistence, and, by being rivals with men for large territory, they must have been destroyed in the contest.

But it is not only upon man that land has exerted its power of destroying the larger tribes of Animated Nature; it has extended its efforts even in the midst of the ocean, and has cut off numbers of these enormous animals that had, perhaps, existed for ages. We now no longer hear of whales two hundred and two hundred and fifty feet long, which we are certain were often seen about two centuries ago. They have all been destroyed by the skill of mankind, and the species is now dwindled into a race of diminutive animals, from thirty to about eighty feet long.

The northern seas were once the region to which the greatest of these animals resorted; but so great has been the slaughter of whales for more than two ages, that they begin to grow thinner every day; and those that are found there seem, from their size, not to have come to their full dimensions. The greatest whales resort to places where they have the least disturbance-to those seas that are on the opposite side of the globe near the south pole. In that part of the world there are still to be seen whales that are above a hundred and sixty feet long; and perhaps even longer might be found in those latitudes near the south pole to which we have not as yet ventured.

Taking the whale, however, at the ordinary size of eighty feet long and twenty feet high, what an enormous animated mass must it appear to the spectator! With what amazement must it strike him to behold so great a creature gambolling in the deep with the ease and agility of the smallest animal, and making its way with incredible swiftness! This is a sight which is very common to those who frequent the northern or southern ocean. Yet though this be wonderful, perhaps still greater wonders are concealed in the deep which we have not had the opportunities of exploring. These large animals are obliged to show themselves in order to take breath; but who knows the size of those that are fitted to remain for ever under water, and that have been increasing in magnitude for centuries! To believe all that has been said of the sea-serpent, or 'kraken," would be credulity; to reject the possibility of their existence would be presumption.

66

The whale is the largest animal of which we have any certain information; and the various purposes to which, when taken, its different parts are converted have brought us tolerably acquainted with its history. Of the whale, properly so called, there are no less than seven different kinds, all distinguished from each other by their external figure or internal conformation. The great Greenland whale, without a back-fin, and black on the back; the Iceland whale, without a back-fin, and whitish on the back; the New-England whale, with a hump on the back; the whale with six humps on the

back; the fin-fish, with a fin on the back near the tail; the pike-headed whale, and the round-lipped whale. All these differ from each other in figure, as their names obviously imply. They also differ in their manner of living-the fiu-fish having a larger swallow than the rest, being more active, slender, and fierce, and living chiefly upon herrings. However, they are none of them very voracious; and, if compared to the cachalot, that enormous tyrant of the deep, they appear harmless and gentle. The history of the rest may be comprised under that of the great common Greenland whale, with which we are best acquainted.

The great Greenland whale is the fish for taking which there are such preparations made in different parts of Europe. It is a large heavy animal, and the head alone makes a third of its bulk. It is usually found from sixty to seventy feet long. The fins on each side are from five to eight feet, composed of bones and muscles, and sufficiently strong to give the great mass of body which they move speed and activity. The tail, which lies flat on the water, is about twenty-four feet broad; and, when the fish lies on one side, its blow is tremendous. The skin is smooth and black, and in some places marbled with white and yellow, which, running over the surface, has a very beautiful effect. This marbling is particularly observable in the fins and the tail. In the figures which are thus drawn by Nature fancy often forms the pictures of trees, landscapes, and houses. In the tail of one that was thus marbled, Ray tells us that the number 122 was figured very evenly and exact, as if done with a pencil.

The whale makes use only of the tail to advance itself forward in the water. This serves as a great oar to push its mass along; and it is surprising to see with what force and celerity its enormous bulk cuts through the ocean. The fins are only made use of for turning in the water, and giving a direction to the velocity impressed by the tail. The female also makes use of them when pursued to bear off her young, clapping them on her back, and supporting them by the fins on each side from falling.

The outward or scarf skin of the whale is no thicker than parchment; but this removed, the real skin appears, of about an inch thick, and covering the fat or blubber that lies beneath; this is from eight to twelve inches in thickness, and is, when the fish is in health, of a beautiful yellow. The muscles lie beneath; and these, like the flesh of quadrupeds, are very red and tough.

The cleft of the mouth is above twenty feet long, which is nearly one-third of the animal's whole length; and the upper jaw is furnished with barbs, that lie like the pipes of an organ-the greatest in the middle and the smallest to the sides. These compose the whalebone, the longest spars of which are found to be not less than eighteen feet-the shortest, being of no value, are thrown away. The tongue is almost immoveably fixed to the lower jaw, seeming one great lump of fat; and, in fact, it fills several hogsheads with blubber. The eyes are not larger than those of an ox; and when the crystaline humour is dried they do not appear larger than a pea. They are placed towards the back of the head, being the most convenient situation for enabling them to see before and behind, as also to see over them, where their food is principally found. They are guarded by eyelids and eyelashes, as in quadrupeds; and they seem to be very sharp-sighted.

Nor is their sense of hearing in less perfection; for they are warned at a great distance of any danger preparing against them. It would seem as if Nature had designedly given these advantages, as they multiply little, in order to continue their kind. It is true, indeed, that the external organ of hearing is not perceptible, for this might not only embarrass them in their natural element; but as soon as the thin scarf