The longest grass mixed with heath, and lined within with the bird's own feathers, usually go to the composition; however, in proportion as the climate is colder the nest is more artificially made and more warmly lined. In the arctic regions nothing can exceed the great care all of this kind take to protect their eggs from the intenseness of the weather. While the gull and the penguin kind seem to disregard the severest cold, the duck in these regions forms itself a hole to lay in, shelters the approach, and lines it with a layer of long grass and clay; within that is another layer of moss, and, lastly, a warm coat of feathers or down. The eider-duck is particularly remarkable for the warmth of its nest. This bird-which, as was said, is about twice as large as the common duck, and resides in the colder climates lays from six to eight eggs, makes her nest among the rocks or the plants along the sea-shore. The external materials of the nest are such as are in common use with the rest of the kind; but the inside lining, on which the eggs are immediately deposited, is at once the softest, warmest, and the lightest substance with which we are acquainted. This is no other than the inside down which covers the breast of the bird in the breeding season. This the female plucks off with her bill, and furnishes the inside of her nest with a tapestry more valuable than the most skilful artists can produce. The natives watch the place where she begins to build, and, suffering her to lay, take away both the eggs and the nest. The duck, however, not discouraged by the first disappointment, builds and lays in the same place a second time; and this in the same manner they take away; the third time she builds, but the drake must supply the down from his breast to line the nest with; and if this be robbed, they forsake the place and breed there no more. This down the natives take care to separate from the dirt and moss with which it is mixed; and though no people stand in more need of a warm covering than themselves, yet their necessities compel them to sell it to the more indolent and luxurious inhabitants of the south for brandy and tobacco. As they possess the faculties of flying and swimming, so they are in general birds of passage, and, it is most probable, perform their journeys across the ocean as well on the water as in the air. Those that migrate to this country on the approach of winter are seldom found so well tasted or so fat as the fowls that continue with us the year round: their flesh is often lean, and still oftener fishy-which flavour it has probably contracted in the journey, as their food in the lakes of Lapland, from whence they descend, is generally of the insect

kind.

As soon as they arrive among us, they are generally seen flying in flocks to make a survey of those lakes where they intend to take up their residence for the winter. In the choice of this they have two objects in view-to be near their food, and yet remote from interruption. There chief aim is to choose some lake in the neighbourhood of a marsh, where there is at the same time a cover of woods, and where insects are found in greatest abundance. Lakes, therefore, with a marsh on one side and a wood on the other, are seldom without vast quantities of wild-fowl; and where a couple are seen at any time that is a sufficient inducement to bring hundreds of others. The ducks in the air are often lured down from their heights by the loud voice of the mallard from below. Nature seems to have furnished this bird with very particular faculties for calling. The windpipe where it begins to enter the lungs opens into a kind of bony cavity, where the sound is reflected as in a musical instrument, that is heard a great way off. To this call all the stragglers resort; and in a week or a fortnight's time, a lake that before was quite naked is black with water-fowl, that have left their Lapland retreats to keep company with our ducks who never surred from home.

They generally choose that part of the lake where they are inaccessible to the approach of the fowler, in which they all appear huddled together, extremely busy and very loud. What it is can employ them all the day is not easy to guess. There is no food for them at the place where they sit and cabal thus, as they choose the middle of the lake; and as for courtship, the season has not arrived; so that it is wonderful what can so keep them occupied. Not one of them seems a moment at rest. Now pursuing one another, now screaming, then all up at once, then down again; the whole seems one strange scene of bustle, with nothing to do.

They frequently go off in a more private manner by night to feed in the adjacent meadows and ditches, which they dare not venture to approach by day. In these nocturnal adventures they are often taken; for, though a timorous bird, yet they are easily deceived, and every springe seems to succeed in taking them. But the greatest quantities are taken in decoys-which, though well-known near London, are yet untried in the remoter parts of the country. The manner of making and managing a decoy is as follows:

A place is to be chosen for this purpose far remote from the common highway and all noise of people. A decoy is best where there is a large pond surrounded by a wood, and beyond that a marshy and uncultivated country. When the place is chosen, the pool, if possible, is to be planted round with willows, unless a wood answers the purpose of shading it on every side. On the south and north side of this pool are two, three, or four ditches or channels, which are covered over with nets, supported by hooped sticks bending from one side to the other; so that they form a vault or arch growing narrower and narrower to the point, where it is terminated by a tunnel-net, like that in which fish are caught in weirs Along the banks of these channels so netted over, which are called pipes, many hedges are made of reeds slanting to the edge of the channel, the acute angles to the side next the pool. The whole apparatus, also, is to be hidden from the pool by a hedge of reeds along the margin, behind which the fowler manages his operations. The place being fitted in this manner, the fowler is to provide himself with a number of wild ducks made tame, which are called decoys. These are always to be fed at the month or entrance of the pipe, and to be accustomed to come at a whistle.

As soon as the evening is set in, the decoy rises, as they term it, and the wild fowl feed during the night. If the evening be still, the noise of their wings during their flight is heard at a very great distance, and produces no unpleasing sensation. The fowler, when he finds a fit opportunity, and sees his decoy covered with fowl, walks about the pool, and observes into what pipe the birds gathered in the pool may be enticed or driven. Then casting hempseed, or some such seed as will float on the surface of the water, at the entrance and up along the pipe, he whistles to his decoy-ducks, who instantly obey the summons, and come to the entrance of the pipe in hopes of being fed as usual. Thither also they are followed by a whole flock of wild ones, who little suspect the danger preparing against them. Their sense of smelling, however, is very exquisite; and they would soon discover their enemy, but that the fowler always keeps a piece of turf burning at his nose, against which he breathes; and this prevents the effluvia of his person from reaching their exquisite senses. The wild ducks, therefore, pursuing the decoy-ducks, are led into the broad mouth of the channel or pipe, nor have the least suspicion of the man, who keeps hidden behind one of the hedges. When they have got up the pipe, however, finding it grow more and more narrow, they begin to suspect danger, and would return back; but they are now prevented by the man, who shows himself at the broad end below. Thither, therefore, they dare not return; and rise they may not, as they are kept by the

net above from ascending. The only way left them, therefore, is the narrow-funnelled net at the bottom; into this they fly, and there they are taken.

It often happens, however, that the wild-fowl are in such a state of sleepiness or dozing that they will not follow the decoy-ducks. Use is then generally made of a dog who is taught his lesson. He passes backward and forward between the reed-hedges, in which there are little holes, both for the decoy-man to see and for the little dog to pass through. This attracts the eye of the wild-fowl; who, prompted by curiosity, advance towards this little animal, while he all the time keeps playing among the reeds, nearer and nearer the funnel, till they follow him too far to recede. Sometimes the dog will not attract their attention till a red handkerchief, or something very singular, be put about him. The decoy ducks never enter the funnel-net with the rest, being taught to dive under water as soon as the rest are driven in.

The general season for catching fowl in decoys is from the latter end of October till February. The taking them earlier was prohibited by an act of George the Second, which imposed a penalty of five shillings for every bird destroyed at any other season.

The Lincolnshire decoys are commonly let at a certain annual rent. These principally contribute to supply the markets of London with wild fowl. The number of ducks, widgeons, and teal that are sent thither is amazing. Above thirty thousand have been sent up in one season from ten decoys in the neighbourhood of Wainfleet.

To this manner of taking the wild-fowl in England I will subjoin another still more extraordinary, frequently practised in China. Whenever the fowler sees a number of ducks settled in any particular plash of water, he sends off two or three gourds to float among them. These gourds resemble our pompions; but, being made hollow, they swim on the surface of the water; and on one pool there may sometimes be seen twenty or thirty of these gourds floating together. The fowl at first are a little shy of coming near them; but by degrees they come nearer; and as all birds at last grow familiar with a scare-crow, the ducks gather about these, and amuse themselves by whetting their bills against them. When the birds are as familiar with the gourds as the fowler could wish, he then prepares to deceive them in good earnest. He hollows out one of those gourds large enough to put his head in; and, making holes to breathe and see through, he claps it on his head. Thus accoutred, he wades slowly into the water, keeping his body under, and nothing but his head in the gourd above the surface; and in that manner he moves imperceptibly towards the fowls, who suspect no danger. At last, however, he fairly gets in among them; while they, having been long used to the gourds, take not the least fright while the enemy is in the very midst of them; and an insiduous enemy he is; for ever as he approaches a fowl he seizes it by the legs, and draws it by a jerk under water. There he fastens it under his girdle, and goes to the next, till he has thus loaded himself with as many as he can carry away. When he has got his quantity, without ever attempting to disturb the rest of the fowls on the pool, he slowly moves off again; and in this manner pays the flock three or four visits in a day. Of all the various artifices for catching fowl, this seems likely to be attended with the greatest success, as it is the most practised in China.

CHAP. XIII.

OF THE KING-FISHER.

I will conclude the history of birds with one that seems to unite in itself somewhat of every class preceding. It seems at once possessed of appetites for prey like the

rapacious kinds, with an attachment to water like the birds of that element. It exhibits in its form the beautiful plumage of the peacoek, the shadings of the hummingbird, the bill of the crane, and the short legs of the swallow. The bird I mean is the king-fisher, of which many extraordinary falsehoods have been propagated, and yet of which many extraordinary things remain to be said that are actually true.

The king-fisher is not much larger than a swallow; its shape is clumsy; the legs disproportionably small, and the bill disproportionably long; it is two inches from the base to the tip; the upper chap black, and the lower yellow; but the colours of this bird atone for its inelegant form; the crown of the head and the coverts of the wings are of a deep blackish grey, spotted with bright azure; the back and tail are of the most resplendent azure; the whole under-side of the body is orangecoloured; a broad mark of the same passes from the bill beyond the eyes; beyond that is a large white spot; the tail is short, and consists of twelve feathers of a rich deep blue; the feet are of a redish yellow, and the three joints of the outmost toe adhere to the middle toe, while the inner toe adheres only by one.

From the diminutive size, the slender short legs, and the beautiful colours of this bird, no person would be led to suppose it one of the most rapacious little animals that skims the deep. Yet it is for ever on the wing, and feeds on fish, which it takes in surprising quantities when we consider its size and figure. It chiefly frequents the banks of rivers, and takes its prey after the manner of the osprey, balancing itself at a certain distance above the water for a considerable space, then darting into the deep, and seizing the fish with inevitable certainty. While it remains suspended in the air in a bright day, the plumage exhibits a beautiful variety of the most dazzling and brilliant colours. It might have been this extraordinary beauty that has given rise to fable: for wherever there is anything uncommon fancy is always willing to increase the wonder.

Of this bird it has been said that she built her nest on the water, and thus in a few days hatched and produced her young. But, to be uninterrupted in this task, she was said to be possessed of a charm to allay the fury of the waves; and during this period the mariner might sail with the greatest security. The ancient poets are full of these fables; their historians are not exempt from them. Cicero has written a long poem in praise of the halcyon, of which there remains but two lines. Even the Emperor Gordian has written a poem on this subject, of which we have nothing remaining. These fables have been adopted each by one of the earliest fathers of the church. Behold," says St. Ambrose, "the little bird, which in the midst of the winter lays her eggs on the sand by the shore. From that moment the winds are hushed, the sea becomes smooth, and the calm continues for fourteen days. This is the time she requires-seven days to hatch, and seven days to foster her young. Their Creator has taught these little animals to make their nest in the midst of the most stormy season, only to manifest His kindness by granting them a lasting calm. The seamen are not ignorant of this blessing; they call this interval of fair weather their 'halcyon days;' and they are particularly careful to seize the opportunity, as then they need fear no interruption." This and a hundred other instances might be given of the credulity of mankind with respect to this bird; they entered into speculations concerning the manner of her calming the deep, the formation of her nest, and her peculiar sagacity; at present we do not speculate, because we know, with respect to our king-fisher, that most of the assertions are false. It may be alleged, indeed, with some show of reason, that the halcyon of the ancients was a different bird from our king-fisher; it may be urged that many birds, especially on the Indian Ocean, build a floating nest upon the sea; but still the history of the ancient

halcyon is clogged with endless fable; and it is but an indifferent method to vindicate falsehood by showing that a part of the story is true.

The king-fisher with which we are acquainted at present has none of those powers of allaying the storm or building upon the waves; it is contented to make its nest on the banks of rivers, in such situations as not to be affected by the rising of the stream. When it has found a place for its purpose, it hollows out with its bill a hole about a yard deep, or if it finds the deserted hole of a rat, or one caused by the root of a tree decaying, it takes quiet possession. This hole it enlarges at the bottom to a good size; and, lining it with the down of the willow, lays its eggs there without any farther preparation.

Its nest, or rather hole, is very different from that described by the ancients, by whom it is said to be made in the shape of a long-necked gourd of the bones of the sea-needle. The bones, indeed, are found there in great quantities, as well as the scales of fishes; but these are the remains of the bird's food, and by no means brought there for the purposes of warmth or convenience. The king-fisher, as Bellonius says, feeds upon fish, but is incapable of digesting the bones and scales, which he throws up again as eagles and owls are seen to do a part of their prey. These fill the bird's nest of course; and, although they seem as if designedly placed there, are only a kind of nuisance.

In these holes-which, from the remains of fish brought there, are very fœtid-the king-fisher is often found with from five eggs to nine. There the female continues to hatch even though disturbed; and though the nest be robbed she will again return and lay there. "I have had one of these females brought me," says Reaumur, "which was taken from her nest about three leagues from my house. After admiring the beauty of her colours I let her fly again, when the fond creature was seen instantly to return back to the nest where she had just before been made a captive. There joining the male, she began to lay, though it was for the third time, and though the season was very far advanced At each time she had seven eggs. The older the nest is the greater the quantity of fish-bones and scales does it contain; these are disposed without any order, and sometimes take up a good deal of room."

The female begins to lay early in the season, and excludes her first brood about the beginning of April.

The male, whose fidelity exceeds even that of the turtle, brings her large provisions of fish while she is thus employed; and she, contrary to most other birds, is found plump and fat at that season. The male, that used to twitter before this, now enters the nest as quietly and as privately as possible. The young ones are hatched at the expiration of twenty days; but are seen to differ as well in their size as in their beauty.

As the ancients have had their fables concerning this bird, so have the modern vulgar. It is an opinion generally received among them, that the flesh of the kingfisher will not corrupt, and that it will even banish all vermin. This has no better foundation than that which is said of its always pointing, when hung up dead, with its breast to the north. The only truth which can be affirmed of this bird when killed is, that its flesh is utterly unfit to be eaten; whilst his beautiful plumage preserves its lustre longer than that of any other bird we know.

Having thus given a short history of birds, I own I cannot take leave of this most beautiful part of the creation without reluctance. These splendid inhabitants of air possess all those qualities that can soothe the heart and cheer the fancy-the brightest colours, the roundest forms, the most active manners, and the sweetest music. In sending the imagination in pursuit of these, in following them to the chirruping grove, the screaming precipice, or the glassy deep, the mind naturally lost the sense of its own situation, and attentive to their little sports, almost forgot the TASK of describing them. Innocently to amuse the imagination in this dream of life is wisdom; and nothing is useless that, by furnishing mental employment, keeps us for a while in oblivion of those stronger appetites that lead to evil. But every rank and state of mankind may find something to imitate in those delightful songsters, and we may not only employ the time, but mend our lives by the contemplation. From their courage in defence of their young, and their assiduity in incubation, the coward may learn to be brave and the rash patient. The inviolable attachment of some to their companions may give lessons of fidelity, and the connubial tenderness of others be a monitor to the incontinent. Even those that are tyrants by nature never spread capricious destruction, and, unlike man, never inflict a pair. but when urged by necessity.

BOOK I.-CHAP. I.

INTRODUCTION. The ocean is the great receptacle of fishes. It has been thought by some that all fish are naturally of that salt element; and that they have mounted up into fresh water by some accidental migration. A few still swim up rivers to deposit their spawu; but of the great body of fishes, of which the size is enormous and the shoals are endless, those all keep to the sea, and would quickly expire in fresh water. In that extensive and undiscovered abode millions reside whose manners are a secret to us, and whose very form is unknown. The curiosity of mankind, indeed, has drawn some from their depths, and his wants many more -with the figure of these at least he is acquainted; but for their pursuits, migrations, societies, antipathies, pleasures, times of gestation, and manner of bringing forth, these all are hidden in the turbulent element that protects them.

The number of fish to which we have given names, and of the figure, at least, of which we know something, according to Linnæus are above four hundred. Thus to appearance, indeed, the history of fish is tolerably copious; but when we come to examine, it will be found that of the greatest part of these we know very little. Those qualities, singularities, or advantages that render animals worth naming still remain to be discovered. The history of fishes, therefore, has little in it entertaining; for our philosophers hitherto, instead of studying their nature, have been employed in increasing their catalogues; and the reader, instead of observations or facts, is presented with a long list of names that disgust him with their barren superfluity. It must displease him to see the language of a science increasing, while the science itself has nothing to repay the increasing tax laid upon his memory.

Most fish offer us the same external form-sharp at either end, and swelling in the middle, by which they are enabled to traverse the fluid which they inhabit with greater celerity and ease. That peculiar shape which Nature has granted to most fishes we endeavour to imitate in such vessels as are designed to sail with the greatest swiftness; however, the progress of a machine moved forward in the water by human contrivance is nothing to the rapidity of an animal destined by nature to reside there. Any of the large fish overtake a ship in full sail with great ease, play round it without effort, and out strip it at pleasure. Every part of the body seems exerted in this despatch; the fins, the tail, and the motion of the whole back-bone assist progression; and it is to that flexibility of body at which art cannot arrive that fishes owe their great velocity.

The chief instruments in a fishi's motion are the fins, which in some fish are much more numerous than in others. A fish completely fitted for sailing is furnished with not less than two pair; also three single fins, two above and one below. Thus equipped, it migrates with the utmost rapidity, and takes voyages of a thousand

leagues in a season. But it does not always happen that such fish as have the greatest number of fins have the swiftest motion; the shark is thought to be one of the swiftest swimmers, yet it wants the ventral or belly-fins; the haddock does not move so swift, yet it is completely fitted for motion.

But the fins serve not only to assist the animal in progression, but in rising or sinking, in turning, or even in leaping out of water. To answer these purposes, the pectoral fins serve, like oars, to push the animal forward; they are placed at some little distance behind the opening of the gills; they are generally large and strong, and answer the same purposes to the fish in the water as wings do to a bird in the air. With the help of these, and by their continued motion, the flying-fish is sometimes seen to rise out of the water, and to fly above a hundred yards; till, fatigued with its exertions, it is obliged to sink down again. These also serve to balance the fish's head when it is too large for the body, and keep it from tumbling to the bottom, as is seen in largeheaded fishes when the pectoral fins are cut off. Next these are seen the ventral fins, placed toward the lower part of the body, under the belly; these are always seen to lie flat on the water in whatever situation the fish may be; and they serve rather to depress the fish in its element than to assist progressive motion. The dorsal fin is situated along the ridge of the back, and serves to preserve its equilibrium, as also to assist its progressive motion. In many fishes this is wanting; but in all flat fishes it is very large as the pectoral fins are proportionably small. The anal fin occupies that part of the fish which lies between the anus and the tail; and this serves to keep the fish in its upright or vertical position. Lastly, the tail, which in some fishes is flat and upright in others, seems the grand instrument of motion: the fins are all subservient to it, and give direction to its great impetus, by which the fish seems to dart forward with so much velocity. To explain all this by experiment:-A carp is taken and put into a large vessel. The fish in a state of repose spreads all its fins, and seems to rest upon its pectoral and ventral fins at the bottom: if the fish folds up (for it has the power of folding) either of its pectoral fins it inclines to the same side; folding the right pectoral fin, the fish inclines to that side in turn. When the fish desires to have a retrograde motion, striking with the pectoral fins in a contrary direction effectually produces it. If the fish desires to turn, a blow from the tail sends it about; but if the tail strikes both ways, then the motion is progressive. In pursuance of these observations, if the dorsal and ventral fins be cut off the fish reels to the right and left, and endeavours to supply its loss by keeping the rest of its fins in constant employment. If the right pectoral fin be cut off the fish leans to that side; if the ventral fin on the same side be cut away, then it loses its equilibrium entirely. When the tail is cut off the fish loses all motion, and gives itself up to where the water impels it.

From hence it appears that each of these instruments has a peculiar use assigned it, but, at the same time, that they all conspire to assist each other's motions. Some fish are possessed of all, whose motions are yet not the swiftest; others have but a part, and yet dart through the water with great rapidity. The number, the size, and the situation of the fins, therefore, seem rather calculated to correspond with the animal's figure than closely to answer the purposes of promoting its speed. Where the head is large and heavy, there the pectoral fins are large, and placed forward to keep it from oversetting. Where the head is small, or produced out into a long beak, and therefore not too heavy for the tail, the pectoral fins are small, and the ventral fins totally wanting.

As most animals that live upon land are furnished with a covering to keep off the injuries of the weather, so all that live in the water are covered with a slimy, glutinous matter, that, like a sheath, defends their bodies from the immediate contact of the surrounding fluid. This substance may be considered as a secretion from the pores of the animal's body, and serving not only to defend but to assist the fish's easy progress through the water. Beneath this in many kinds is found a strong covering of scales, which, like a coat of mail, defend it still powerfully; and under that, before we come to the muscular parts of the body, an oily substance, which supplies the requisite warmth and vigour.

The fish, thus protected and fitted for motion in its natural element, seems as well furnished with the means of happiness as quadrupeds or birds; but if we come to examine its faculties more nearly we shall find it very much their inferior. The sense of touching, which beasts and birds have in a small degree, the fish, covered up in its own coat of mail, can have but little acquaintance with.

The sense of smelling, which in beasts is so exquisite, and among birds is not wholly unknown, seems given to fishes in a very moderate proportion. It is true that all fishes have one or more nostrils; and even those that have not the holes perceptible without yet have the proper formation of the bones for smelling within. But as air is the only medium we know of for the distribubution of odours, it cannot be supposed that these animals, residing in water, can be possessed of any power of being affected by them. If they have any perception of smells, it must be in the same manner as we distinguish by our taste; and it is probable the olfactory membrane in fish serves them instead of a distinguishing palate by this they judge of substances that, from tincturing the water with their vapours, are thus sent to the nostrils of fish, and no doubt produce some sort of sensation. This must probably be the use of that organ in those animals, as otherwise there would be the instrument of a sense provided for them without any power in them of enjoyment.

As to tasting, they seem to make very little distinction: the palate of most fish is hard and bony, and consequently incapable of the powers of relishing different substances. This sense among quadrupeds, who possess it in some degree, arises from the soft pliancy of the organ, and the delicacy of the skin which covers the instrument of tasting; it may be considered in them as a more perfect and delicate kind of feeling: in the bony palate of fish, therefore, all powers of distinguishing are utterly taken away; and we have accordingly often seen these voracious animals swallow the fisherman's plummet instead of the bait.

Hearing in fishes is found still more imperfect, if it be found at all. Certain it is that anatomists have not been able to discover, except in the whale kind, the smallest traces of an organ either within or without the head of fishes. It is true, that in the centre of the brain of some fishes are found now and then some little bones, the number and situation of which are entirely

accidental. These bones Mr. Klein has supposed to constitute the organ of hearing; but if we consider their entire dissimilitude to the bones that serve for hearing in other animals we shall be of another opinion. The greatest number of fishes are deprived of these bones entirely; some fish have them in small numbers, and others in abundance; yet neither testify any excellence or defect in hearing. Indeed, of what advantage would this sense be to animals that are incapable of making themselves heard? They have no voice to communicate with each other, and consequently have no need of an organ for hearing. Mr. Gouan, who kept some gold fishes in a vase, informs us that whatever noise he made he could neither disturb nor terrify them; he hallooed as loud as he could, putting a piece of paper between his mouth and the water to prevent the vibrations from affecting the surface, and the fishes still seemed insensible; but when the paper was removed, and the sound had its full play upon the water, the fishes seemed instantly to feel the change, and shrunk to the bottom. From this we may learn that fishes are as deaf as they are mute; and that when they seem to hear the call of a whistle or a bell at the edge of a pond, it is rather the vibrations of the sound that affects the water by which they are excited than any sounds they hear.

The

Seeing seems to be the sense fishes are possessed of in the greatest degree; and yet even this seems obscure, if we compare it to that of other animals. The eye in almost all fish is covered with the same transparent skin that covers the rest of the head, and which probably serves to defend it in the water, as they are without eyelids. The globe is more depressed anteriorly, and is furnished behind with a muscle which serves to lengthen or flatten it according to the necessities of the animal. crystaline humour, which in quadrupeds is flat, and of the shape of a button-mould, in fishes is as round as a pea-or sometimes oblong like an egg. From all this it appears that fish are extremely near-sighted, and that even in the water they can see objects at a very small distance. The distance might very easily be ascertained, by comparing the refraction of bodies in the water with that formed by a lens that is spherical. Those unskilled in mathematical calculations will have a general idea of this from the glasses used by near-sighted people. Those whose crystaline humour is too convex-or, in other words, too round-are always very near-sighted; and obliged to use concave glasses to correct the imperfections of Nature. The crystaline humour of fish is so round, that it is not in the power of any glasses, much less of water, to correct their vision. This crystaline humour in fishes all must have seen-being that little hard pea-like substance which is found in their eyes after boiling. In the natural state it is transparent, and not much harder than a jelly.

From all this it appears how far fish fall behind terrestrial animals in their sensations, and consequently in their enjoyments. Even their brain, which is by some supposed to be of a size with every animal's understanding, shows that fish are inferior even to birds in this particular. It is divided into three parts, surrounded with a whitish froth, and gives off nerves as well to the sense of sight as of smelling. In some fish it is grey, in others white; in some it is flatted, in others round; but in all extremely small compared to the bulk of the animal.

Thus Nature seems to have fitted these animals with appetites and powers of an inferior kind, and formed them for a sort of passive existence in the obscure and heavy element to which they are consigned. To preserve their owu existence and to continue it to their posterity fill up the whole circle of their pursuits and enjoyments; to these they are impelled rather by necessity than choice, and seem mechanically excited to every fruition. Their senses are incapable of making any distinction;